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Issue 16.2 of the Review for Religious, 1957. ; A.M.D.G. Review for. Reh ious MARCH 15, 1957 Psychological Screening . Richard P. Vaughan The Religious Teacher . Sister M. Aurella Background of the Supernatural Life. Da.iel J. Formation o1: Religious Priesks . Pope Plus XII Roman Documents . R. F. Smith Book Reviews (~uestions and Answers Summer Institutes VOLUME 16 NUMBER 2 REVIEW FOR RI LIGIOUS VOLUME 16 MARCH,.1957 NUMBER 2 CONTI::NTS MORAL ISSUES IN PSYCHOLOGICAL SCREENING-- Richard P. Vaughan, S.J . 65 SUMMER INSTITUTES FOR RELIGIOUS .78 THE RELIGIOUS TEACHER AND VOCATIONS~ Sister M. Aurelia, O.S.F . 79 - OUR CONTRIBUTORS . '. 81 THE BACKGROUND OF THE SUPERNATURAL LIFE-- Daniel J. M. Callahan, s.J . 82 SOME BOOKS RECEIVED . 87 THE EDUCATION AND FORMATION OF RELIGIOUS PRIESTS Pope Plus XII . 88 SURVEY OF ROMAN DOCUMENTS~R. F. Smith, S.J . 102 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS--- 3. Varying Interpretations of Local Superiors . 112 4. Reappointment of Master and Assistant Master of Novices . 112. 5. Sisters Driving Cars . 113 6. Reception of Renewals of Vows . " . 113 7. Procurator General and Manner of Recurring to the Holy See 114 8. Unequal Suffrages . 116 9. Obligation of Weekly Confession . 116 10. Special Jurisdiction Not Required for Postulants . 117 11. Obligation to Receive Blessing of Extraordinary Confessor . 118 12. A Religious as Executor of the Will of Lay People . 118 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS-- Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana . 119 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March, 1957. Vol. 16, No. 2. 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 ecclesi-astical approval. Second class mail privilege authorized at St. Louis, Mo. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J.; Gerald Kelly, S.J.; "Henry "vVillmering, S.J. Liteiary Editor: Robert F. Weiss, S.J. Copyright, 1957, 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, 3!15 South Grand Boulevard, St. Louis 18, Missouri. Moral Issues in Psychological Screening Richard P. Vaughan, S.J. AS THE use of psychological testing for' candidates to the religious life has become more. widely known and ~ac-cepted, certain moral questions have presented themselve~ to the minds of the superiors who have considered the possio sibility of adopting some kind of a screening program. It is the aim of the present article to consider some of these questions and to offer a solution for each. Purpose of Psychological Testing Psychological testing is a means of evaluating an individ-ual's personality and ability. Its purpose is to predict the suit-ability and fitness of an individual for a position, course of studies, or state of life. When testing is applied to candidates for the religious life, the aim of the program is to determine whether the candidate has the necessary qualifications to lead the life of a religious in some particular institute, such as the Franciscans or Carmelites. These quahficattons are primarily limited to factors of personality affecting mental health. However, when there is a need to know about the intellectual capacity of an individual, psychological testing may also be used. Psychological testing, as presently used by religious for their candidates, does not offer any direct information about what one may call the internal workings of a vocation. Needless to say, it does not measure the influence of grace upon the soul. It does not in any way pretend to fathom the extent to which the soul has been moved by the Holy Spirit. Nevertheless, such testing does in a number of instances give some indication of what might be called natural motivating forces behind a desire for the religious life. In addition to the Workings of grace, the average, candidate usually has a number 65 I~ICHARD P. VAUGHAN Review for Religious of subs~idiary reasons which are instrumental in his choice of the religious state. He might be attracted by the companionship of community life or by' the opportunity to devote his life to study and teaching. Such inclinations frequently manifest themselves in a testing situation. Moreover, sometimes natural motives, which should be secondary, assume primary importance:. In these in-stances, the superior who has received a psychological evaluation of the candidate is in a better position to make a decision as to the candidate's suitability. .Finally, there are cases where the candidate may desire the religious life for purely natural reasons. An example of such a candidate would be the young woman who wishes to enter the convent because conditions at home are intolerable. Psychological testing can give indications of such motivation. It frequently "happens that the candidate is not aware of the influence of such a motive upon her final decision to enter the religious state. Through the medium 0f testing followed by interviews this influence can be brought to light, and thus the possibility of a costly mistake is lessened. The function of testing is very similar to that of the physical examination which is demanded of every candidate before he or she is accepted into the religious life. Both examinations are looking for signs of illness which will render the candidate un-suited for the religious life in a definite order or congregation. The one seeks indications of physical illness; the other, indica-tions of psychological illness. Unfortunately, the psychological aspects of the human being are not as readily discernible as the purely physical. There is much in the psychological life of an indi~vidual which lies beneath the surface and thus passes un-noticed, but .which offers definite indications of-future emotional upheaval. In some cases, the individual consciously defends against revealing this hidden "matter, lest it be detrimental to him. In other cases, the unconscious processes completely hide the matter from the individual himself. Mental fitness for the religious life often depends upon the content of this hidden 66 Ma~'ch, 1957 PSYCHOLOGICAL SCREENING matter. To uncover such material, a c6mbination of psychologi-cal testing and interviews is often needed. Although the untrained person is certainly qualified to make some evaluation of the can-didate's personality, he will usually miss most of this hidden matter which gives a deeper clue to the workings of an indi-vidual's personality. The fundamental goal of any screening program is the detection of the grossly abnormal applicant. By this latter phrase is meant the applicant who gives definite signs of debili-tating psychosis or neurosis. He is the candidate who is mentally ill, although his illness may not yet be recognizable to the untrained religious examiner. In its initial stages, mental ill-ness may easily be passed over unnoticed, unless a concerted effort is made to investigate its possible existence. A testing pro-gram that is well conducted can give some indication that suffi-cient mental .and emotional health for leading a normal re-ligious life is wanting in the candidate. Subsequent interviews by trained personnel can put a'finger on the candidate whose mental illness is serious or gives evidence of becoming serious. Such a candidate is as.unfit for the religious life as the candidate who has tuberculosis or amalignant cancer. In considering the possibility of mental illness occurring after the individual has been received into the religious li~e, it should be called .to mind that the religious life, especially in its earliest phases, is such as to be considerably more taxing on psychological strength than the average life outside the cloister or the convent. It can reasonably be presumed that the seriously disturbed person will become pro-gressively worse under the strain of religious life, since he is usually unable to benefit from the many spiritual and natural helps of this life. The Problem of Personal Data Assessing the mental health of a candidate frequently de-mands a very comprehensive and revealing evaluation of his per-sonality. As a result of this need, religious superiors sometimes 67 RICHARD P. VAUGHAN Review for Religious are in doubt as to their right to investigate such highly personal data. Typical examples of traits that'might be discovered through a psychological screening program are as follows: emotional instability, lack of self-control, paranoid-suspiciousness, and deviant sexual tendencies. It is 'obvious that were such personality charac-teristics widely known, they would seriously handicap the future of the candidate, regardless of what state of life he might eventually choose. In considering this problem it is necessary tO understand fully what are the duties" and obligations of the religious superior who has the task of accepting or rejecting candidates. Upon his deci-" sion re~ts the welfare of the Church, as Well as that of the particular order or congregation to which" he belongs. Many of the faithful look upon religious as the personifica-tions of the spirit and teaching of the Church. When they come in contact with or hear about emotionally disturbed religious, their esteem of the Church as an instrument of personal sanctity is con-siderably lessened. For in the minds .of many of these people, mental illness and sanctity are incompatible. The afflicted person would not be in his present state if he had led a holy-life. Unfor-tunafely, some go so far as. to link mental illness with sin. The psychosis or neurosis is simply the result of past wrong-doing. Although the above-mentioned opinions have no scientific basis, still their prevalence makes the. emotionally disturbed religious a source of scandal for these uninformed laymen and laywomen. A further, danger of scandal arises when the faithful have per-sonal dealings with the mentally ill religious. Psychotic a.nd neurotic symptoms frequently manifest themselves in behavior which in the normal person could only be interpreted as sinful. The outbursts of anger seen in a paranoid are but one example of such behavior. Thus, the superior has the obligation, in so far as he is able, to see that he does not admit candidates who are likely to fall prey to mental disease and thus become a source of scandal to the laity. 68 March, 1957 PSYCHOLOGICAL SCREENING If the 'candidate. is'~ulfim~ately destined for holy orders, the duty of the superior to protect the welfare of the Church is even greater, in as much as the Church relies upon the priesthood for her very life. The menially disturbed, priest c~in be a source of great scandal and actually hinder the apostolic work of the Church. Obligations of Superioks A further consideration is ~he ol~ligation a superior has to his own order or congregation and to the individual members of that order or congregation. Every supekior who receives candidates has a definite obligation to his or her institute to accept only those can-didates who will be able tolead the religious life according to the rule of the particular order or congregation the candidate ~.lans to join. It is, moreover, the duty of the superior to see that the rights of the other members of the.community are" protected. Community life is an essential part of the religious lif~ in most orders' and con-gregations. Experience" snows that the mentally ill can do'much to disrupt community life. Finally, it is the "obligation of the superior to see that only those subjects be ~icceptdd who Wil! be able to further the work of the particular order or congregation. In general, it may be said that the seribusly disturbed neurotic or psychotic contributes very little in his lifetime to the specific works of the order, and often actually hinders that wo'rk. Therefore, since the superior has the obligation to look after the welfare of his order or congregation and its members, he or she has the right to use every legitimate means to accomplish this end, A well-conducted psychological screening program would seem to be a legitimate means of' eliminating those who are incapable of leading the relig-ious life and of fostering the specific works of a given order or congregation because bf poor mental health. Thus, it seems clear that the superior has the right to inves-tigate such highly personal data' as one would obtain from a screening program, if he thinks that such information is neces-sary to determine the mental and emotional health of the candi-date. This right stems from the obligation of the superior to 69 RICHARD P. VAUGHAN Review for Religious protect the welfare of the Church and his order. To accomplish this end, it may happen that the superior will have to investigate matter pertaining to the conscience of the candidate. Ii: this investigation is thought necessary, the superior has not only the right but also the duty to ask about such matters, and the candidate has an equal duty to reveal whatever information the superior thinks necessary to arrive at a correct decision with reference to the existence of a true vocation. It should be noted that all information derived from a screening program is received in the strictest confidence. Thus, it can be revealed only to the superior who must decide upon the suitability of the candidates and, if needed, his or her consultors. Under these circumstances, the fear of any damage that might occur to the reputation o~ the candidate would seem to be minimized. I~ the candidate is rejected, in the minds of his friends and associates he could have been rejected for any o~: a dozen or more reasons. His rejection because oI: poor mental health need never be known. Refusal To Cooperate Before beg!nning a screening program, it would probably be well to inform the candidate by letter of the general aim, nature, and need of such a program. The purpose of the letter is to acquaint the candidate with some of the notions involved in screen-ing and to dispose him or her more favorably towards the pro-gram. The emphasis is placed on the personal advantage of the program for the candidate. A mistake about one's vocation is usually costly in time and money, not to mention the emo-tional upheaval that frequently results when a.religious leaves after several years in the life. Immediately preceding the administration of a series of psychological tests, the psychologist again explains the purpose and need of the program. The candidates are then urged to be frank and honest in answering the items. Most candidates 70 March, 1957 PSYCHOLOGICAL SCREENING will acquiesce in thi~ request, since by this time they realize that the program is devised imt only for the good of the order or congregation that they plan to join, but also for their own good. However, it is not beyond the realm of possibility that a candi-date will absolutely refuse to submit to the testing progr~im. This situation would then ~resent a further moral issue. Has the superior the right to reject" any candidate who refuses to take the psychological te~ts Or who gives every indication that he did not cooperate in taking the tests, thus nullifying the test results? In answering this question, it should be noted that each order or congregation with the approbation of the Holy See has the right to establish the qualifications that it desires among its members. The superior who accepts the candidates acts in the name of the. order or congregation. Thus, he has the duty to see that these qualifications are met. Among the many qualifications for any type of religious life, mental health is a primary requisite. It therefore follows that the. superior can use every legitimate means at his disposal to guarantee that only the fit and suitable candidates are accepted. Psychological screening has come to be an acceptable instrument for determining the suit-ability of candidates as far as their mental health is concerned. Hence, it follows that the superior has the right to refuse admittance to those candidates who reject the testing program or give clear evidence that they did not cooperate, since these candidates have failed to give sufficient indication that they meet one of the essential requirements of the religious life, at least as far as the superior is able to determine. In passing, it might l~e noted that those who refuse to take the test must have a reason for their refusal; and most probably this refusal is con-nected with some kind of psychological inadequacy. Omission of Items Some personality tests demand the affirmation or denial of a number of statements. A certain small percentage of these items ask the testee to affirm or deny past moral faults. When 71 RICHARD P. VAUGHAN Review for Religious the candidate is faced with such items, he is not obliged to answer them, unless such information is necessary to determine the presence or absence of a vocation. It should be noted that these items usually inquire about specific incidents and not about habits of. sin which could interfere with a vocation. The superior has the right to ask about habits of sin when this information affects his judgment as to the existence of a true vocation. How-ever, isolated incidents of moral iapses usually do not stand in the way of a vocation; hence, if the candidate omitted these items, it Would not substantially affect the purpose for which these tests are given. A ready solution to the problem might be the omission of such items from the tests. However, since a number of the personality tests used in psychological screening have been stan-dardized for a .given population and appear in a printed form, it is very difficult to omit the items. An effort'is currently being made to adapt these standardized-personality tests for the ex-clusive use of religious and their candidates and to establish stan-dards of judgment for this particular segment of the popula-tion. These new standardizations will eliminate undesirable items. In the meantime, the psychologist should choose those tests which are least likely to be affected by this difficulty; where this is not possible, he should make allowances in his interpretation of the test results for a few unanswered items. How Much Confidence in the Testing Program? A further question arises: How much confidence can a superior place in a psychological testing program for candi-dates? The superior not only has an obligation to his own par-ticular order or congregation, but he also has an equal, obligation to the candidate who feels that he has a vocation. Psychological testing for candidates has been used by a number of orders and Congregations of both religious men and women. For the most part, these various religious groups have expressed their satis-faction with the results. However, it should be borne in mind 72 Ma~'ch, 1957 PSYCHOLOGICAL ~CREENING that the whdle program is a" relatively new movement in the Church and that more time is needed before one can reach a certain judgment as to the value of such a program. The tests which are commonly used for ~andidates to the religious life have proved themselves in other areas. Some have and are being used in psychiatric .and psychologial clinics to determine path-ology. It should also be noted tha~ some of the tests used with rdligious candidates have been adapted for this specific, purpose and thus should be even more valuable when used with these populations. Nonetheless, until more data have been gathered and scientifically evaluated, it would s.eem that tl~e most prudent course of action for any superiok who is initiating a testing pro-gram would demand, a cautious and at times skeptical 'acceptance of data received from the testing program. In the beginning, some kind of an interview by trained personnel for those candi-dates who scored poorly on the tests would seem to be almost imperative. In those relatively few instances where test and in-terview results show gross deviation from the normal, rejection of the candidates would seem to be in order. In those cases where the diagnosis from the test results is in doubt, it would seem that the more prudent course in initiating the program would usually be to accept the candidate and observe the nature of hi~ progress ~during the early years of the religious life. ¯ Professional Secrecy A screening program can be administered either by a mem-ber of the religious community who has received adequate train-ing'in psychology or by a lay psychologist who has had experi-ence in clinical testing. Since there are many aspects of the religious life which a layman cannot fully understand, the pro-gram conducted by trained religious personnel is highly desir-able. Once the test results have been interpreted and necessary interviews held, all the information derived from these sources is gathered together and an evaluation of the personality of the candidate is drawn up by, the psychologist. The information 73 RICHARD P.' VAUGHAN Review for Religious contained in these reports has been obtained through the medium of~ professional confidence since the psychologist' is bound by the same type of secrecy as the physician or lawyer who obtain confideniial matter.from their clients. The.candidate, therefore~ has every right to expect that this confidence will b~ safeguarded. Hence, the psychologist can submit the information obtained through testing only to the. religious superior or som~eone ap-pointed by the superior to make the decision as, to the acceptance or rejectiori of the candidate. To reveal the results to any other member of the community or to anyone else, such as a pros-pective ~employer once the application' has been rejected, would involve a violation of professional secrecy. The superior who receives the information from the psy-chologist is not free to speak of it to other members of the com-munity, unless he thinks that he needs to" seek advice from one of his consultors before ~arrivi~ng at a decision, for he is ~bound by the same obligation of secrecy as the psychologist. More-over, if the superior can obtain the advice of the consultors without revealing the identity of the candidate, he should do so. Among certain communities, there is the practice of allowing the master of novices to read the personality evaluations 0f can-didates. Such a procedure would seem to prejudice unduly the master's opinion of the candidates before they are received into the religious life. The doubtful cases especially suffer from this practice. Furthermore, since the novice, while still a candidate, consented to take the psychological examination for the sole pur-pose of determining his suitability, it would seem morally wrong t6 reveal the contents of these tests to the magter for the added purpose of future guidance and direction, unless the novice gives his consent. Rejection of the Candidate /~ When a candidate has been refused admittance into an order or congregation because ot~ poor mental health as indicated by testing and interviews, further moral problems present them- 74 March, 1957 PSYCHOLOGICAL SCREENING selves. The first question that arise~ in such ~in event is whether the candidate should be informed of the specific reason why he has been rejected. In view of the fact that there are several possible reasons besides lack of mental health or psychological fitness that can determine the decision of a superior in accepting or rejecting a candidate, many religious communities prefer simply to inform the applicant that he or she does not appear suited for the religious life. The exact reasons for the rejection are not given; or if they are given, they are stated in such general terms that the candidate does not fully comprehend their import. Hbwever, the outcome of such a procedure sometimes results in a cdrtain amount of discontent on the part of the rejected can-didate. Often this discontent is also manifested by the religious who is sponsoring the candidate. On the other hand, it would seem that the superior has only the obligation to see that the qualifications set down in his institute are fulfilled. If the can-didate does not meet these qualifications, then, in justice to his order, he must reject the candidate; but this rejection does not necessitate his telling the applicant why he has been refused. The decision to reject a candidate poses a further problem, namely, does the superior have any obligation to advise the applicant who is mentally and emotionally disturbed to seek some type of treatment? If such an obligation does exist, it certainly is not one Of justice. Out of justice the superior is simply obliged to inform the candidate that he is not suited for the life. It may then be asked whether out of charity he should give the rejected candidate some advice as to his need of treatment and offer suggestions as to how he might obtain this treatment. If the rejected candidates are not too numerous and there are local facilities which are in a position to offer therapeutic time, it would then seem likely that the superior should out of charity offer some help in this regard. For if nothing is said, there is a great likelihood that'~the illness will become progressively worse until it reaches that state where treatment will be extremely diff'- 75 RICHARD P. ~AUGHAN . Review for Religious cult, if not impossible. Mental illness ;s much more susceptible to treatment in the young than in the old. If hn emotional dis-turbance exists which is not too deep-seated, it is not beyond the realm of possibility that the applicant can be treated and reapply for admittance after a couple of years. In.this manner, a voca-tion can be saved. All the above-mentioned~suggestions imply that the candidate will be informed of the exact nature of his illness, so that he can take some action to rid himself of the affliction. However, if the superior does not see his way clear to offer some suggestion as to possible means of alleviating the difficulty, it would-seem more prudent not to inform the candidate of his condition. Such information without any. hope of doing something about the situation can only lead toga state of frustra-tion and consequently agitate the illness of the rejected candidate. Use of Test Results After Entrance A final aspect pertains to the use of testing results after the candidate has been received into the religious ,life. In any group, of candidates entering the religious life, "there will most probably be some who have been accepted even though their psychological fitness for the life is still in doubt. A number of these doubtful cases will give some indication during their postu-lancy that they ma)) not be completely suited,for the .life. .When the decision must. be made as to Whether they should receive the habit, some superiors will include the psychological evaluation at the .time of entrance as a factor in turning their judgment one way or the other. Since the postulancy is a time of trial, in which both the order or congregation and the individual postulant are trying to determine whether a true vocation is present, it would seem that the superior, who represents the o~der, is justified in using every legitimate means at his disposal so as to arrive at a correct decision. The results of the testing program can be a very valuable aid in reaching this decision. Since the time of postulancy is relatively short, the original test results w0uld prob-ably still- apply to the postulant in doubt. However, if changes 76 March, 1957 PSYCHOLOGICAL SCREENING in personality have become conspicuous during this period, it would be wise to ~e-evaluate the individual through testing and, if necessary, through interviewing. If the postulant has been allowed to take the habit; but, at the end of .the novitiate, there is still some doubt ~asto the psychological fitness, then retesting wouldseem to be in order since the element of more than one and a half years in the religio~us life will significantly influence the personalitypattern of thee novice. This retesting will also give an indication as towhether, during the course of the novitiate, the individual has become more or less psychologically fit for the religious life. Retest results will, thus, furnish helpful supplementary material for the superior who is faced with the difficult~ decision of allowing or refusing permission to take the first vows. If the tests can be evaluated by the same psychologist who had previously conducted the testing program, the results should reveal acciirate and valu-able material. However, it should be noted that neither novices nor reli-gious with their vows can be forced to submit to psychological testing. Such a program of testing is equivalent to a manifesta-tion of conscience, which according to canon law no superior can demand of his subject. The superior, therefore, may not threaten the religious with dismissal if he refuses to take the tests. He should feel free to point out to the subject whose vocation is in dbubt the. advantages of a psychological program. He may not, however, word his advice in ~uch a fashion as to exert pressure upon the religious to submit to the testing. Moreover, the religious who has undergone the psychological investigation must either explicitly 0r implicitly give permission to the superior to obtain the results from the psychologist, It may well be that the religious insists upon dealing directly with the psychiatrist or psychologist in arriving at'a final decision as to whether he or she has a vocation to the religious life. In this case, the superior 77 I~ICHARD P. VAUGHAN ~ould ~ave no fi~t to t~e ~ghly personal data derived from t~e tests and subsequent ~nterv~e~s. Conclusion Psychological screening is a relatively .new approach to the problem of determining 'mental and emotional fitness for the re-ligious life. As in any new movement, questions and doubts are bound to arise. In the case of screening, not the least of these questions and doubts are of a moral nature. However, if the purpose of screening is fully comprehended and the basic principles of moral theology are correctly applied, satisfactory solutions can be found. In the light of these solutions, a cau-tious and prudent use of a well conducted screening program can be extremely valuable and morally justifiable in deciding whether the candidate has the requisite psychological fitness for the religious life. SUMMER INSTITUTES FOR RELIGIOUS The Institute for Religious at College Misericordia, Dallas, Penn-sylvania (a three-year summer course of twelve days in canon law and ascetical theology for sisters), will be held this year August 20-31. This is the second year in the triennial course. The course in canon law is given by the Reverend Joseph F. Gallen~ S.J., that in ascetical theology is given by the Reverend Daniel J. M. Callahan, s.J., both of Wood-stock College. The registration is restricted to higher superiors, their councilors and officials, mistresses of no~ices, and those in similar positions. Applications are to be addressed to the Rev. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. The Reverend Owen M. Cloran, S.J., will direct an Institute in Canon Law for Religious Women at St. Louis University, June 10-14. During the summer session from June 18 to July 26, the religion department will include courses on the sacramental life, Sacred Scrip-ture, moral guidance of adolescent girls, and God the author of the supernatural life. Inquiries concerning the Institute or the courses should be directed to the Department of Religion, St. Louis University, St. Louis 3, Missouri. 78 The Religious Teacher and Vocal:ions Sister M. Aurelia, O.S.F. NO ASPECT of the life of a priest or of a religious brother o~ sister is so mysterious as the manner in which the individual received the call to this special form of life. Every religious vocation has a divine origin; God is its first cause. Seemingly, there are many secondary causes; but, in the last analysis, a religious vocation comes from.God Himself. God does, however, make use of various agencies and circumstances to accomplish His purpose. The home, the Church, and the school often serve indirdctly as God's instruments in the develop-ment of vocations. A good Catholic home is the nursery for religious vocations. Statistics prove that a home in which the parents are leading truly Christian lives produces more vocations to th.e priesthood or the religious life than homes where the parents are careless and indifferent Catholics. Zealous priests, by their counsel .and friendly interest, direct many chosen souls to the service of God as priests, brothers~ or sisters. Many a religious vdcation has been brought to life by a prudent director. The Catholic school, however, is predominantly the source of religious vocations. Whil~ it is true that some earnest young people who have not had the opportunity of attending a Catholic school have become good priests, brothers, or sisters, the greater number of vocations are found among young people who are the product of Catholic schools. Therefore, religious teachers play an important part in God's plan for vocations. The manner in which God calls individuals is as varied as the characters of the individuals themselves. Some are called 79 SISTER M AURELIA directly; for example, John and Andrew, the first disciples of Our Loid, were called directly by Christ when He said to them, "Come and see." Peter was brought to our Lord by his brother Andrew. Even today some souls' receive a direct call from our Lord when He says to their wavering hearts, "Come and see." Probably most calls today are indirect, coming to souls through the instrumentality of others. It may be through a kind word, a tactful suggestion,., or the personal example of a priest or a religious brother or sister. It is, then, one of the most sacred duties of the religious teacher to develop a real understanding and appreciation of the religious life, to explain its concepts and ideals, and to create in the minds of the young a willingness and an ability to assume a life of prayer and sacrifice. This means to make young people vocation-minded, to make them reflect that perhaps God has chosen them to be among His select ones. " The personality of the teacher plays an important role in this respect. Some one has aptly said, "Though we soon forget what our teachers taught us, we readily remember the teachers themselves, their personality, their whims and humors, their ideals and enthusiasm, the ~ltmosphere they created and the spirit in which they worked.~ Names, dates, details of events fade away; but the personalities of the teachers have left lasting impressions." 'The personal example of a brother or sister is more potent than words. What we are is of greater importance than what we say. Nothing we say influences as much as what we how we acl. Our pupils see us as we really ar~', not as we think we are. We cannot hide our faults and defects, for our lives are as mirrors reflecting our inner selves. Our actions will show more plainly than words that we love our way of life, that we are happy, that we are glad to serve God as religious teachers, that our whole aim in life is to save our souls by drawing others to the knowledge and love of God. Let us examine ourselves. Do our words and actions reveal th~ v~rtues expected of a good religious? Are we friendly, 80 March, 1957 RELIGIOUS VOCATIONS patient, courteous, sympathetic? Do we exhibit self-control at all times, show practical piety--not the mushy, sentimental kind, but sincere humble devotion? Have we a prudent zeal'for the honor and glory of God and the salvation of souls? Kindness, charity, and consideration for others are the most attractive virtdes in a religious teacher. A teacher who is just and square, who is honest and sincere will attract more young people to the religious life than another who speaks piously of virtue and love of God, but who may be unjust, insincere, un-sympathetic, and unforgiving. A teacher who holds a grudge or indulges in spiteful remarks will never instill a love for the religious life. Many a vocation has been nipped in the bud or given up entirely because of a sarcastic, unjust, or disagreeable teacher. Remember that a holy and happy religious is the best advertisement for his or her community.': What kind of advertisement am I for my community? Do I repel others by my brusque, sharp, and domineering manners? Am I kind and considerate in my dealings with my pupils?" with my fellow teachers? Do I always remember that I represent the meek and gentle Jesus? Our love, our enthtisiasm and devotion to our work, tour sincere appreciation of our holy vocation will act as a powerful magnet, drawing others to follow more intimately the loving Christ as a priest, brother, or sister. Good example, prayer, sacrifice, and a holy life are the best means by which we may hope to influence others and make them vocation-minded. OUR CONTRIBUTORS RICHARD P. VAUGHAN is an instructor in psychology at the University of San Francisco and clinica! psychologist for the Mc- Auley Clinic, St. Mary's Hospital, 'San Francisco. SISTER M. AURELIA is co-author of Practical Aids for Catholic Teachers and, after teaching school for fifty-four years, is now retired at the Mother House, Millvale, Pennsylvania. DANIEL J. M. CALLAHAN, pro-fessor of dogmatic theology for thirty years, is now engaged in coun-selling and retreat work for priests and religious at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. R. F. SMITH is a member of the faculty of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. 81 The Background :he. ¯ Superna!:ural Lit:e Daniel J. M. Callahan, S.J. m~mO STRIVE for the perfection of the supernatural life is mandatory for us as religious. ~ Obviously then, our asceti-cism must be founded on the truths of faith, and a thorough appreciation of them will be the strongest incentive to the cor-rection of our faults and to the practice of virtue. In con. sequence,, a clear understanding of the supernatural is of primary importance first for our personal sanctity and then for the success of our apostolate, which is, like that of St. Paul, "To announce among the Gentiles the good tidings of the unfathomable riches of Christ, and to enlighten all men as to what is the dispensation of the mystery which has been hidden from eternity in God, who created all things" (Eph. 3:8-9). The present paper aims at the exposition of the background oi: the supernaturalas it appears in divine revelation. Though grafted on the natural, the supernatural life abso-lutely transcends the natural, but the better we comprehend the latter, the more readily shall we apprehend the fo~mer. What then is the implication of a state of nature and of a.completely natural life? Though such a condition never existed for human beings, God could have established 'it and been satisfied with it. It would mean that we w.ould be made up of body and soul, of matter and spirit, together with all the capabi!ities requisite for the discharge of human activity and for the attainment of the purpose of our creation. We would have our present composite nature resulting from the components just mentigned, a human personali~ty equipped for the functions of vegetative, sentient, .rational life and requiring due subordination and coordination to our intellect and will for the perfection of the whole. For a composite entity could subsist and evolve only on the supposi-tion of harmonizing its constituents and bringing them under 82 THE SUPERNATURAL LIFE the confrol of the highest of them. Lack of such subordination would cause life to languish, to disintegrate, and ultimately to cease. In consequence, even a purely natural life would involve struggle because of the two levels in our nature, each of which would be drawn to its own gratification, the merely pleasurable and the morally good. There could be a conflict of passion against will, an experience that could be arduous and distressing, although these unruly impulses would not be irresistible. The free will could and should restrain them through inhibition, modera~ tion, and the stimulation of opposing urges to good. In like manner, through self-love and pride, the free will could rebel against the Creator recognized as Supreme Lord, and sin. Man could arrive at the basic principles of mori~l conduct and realize his obligation to shape his life in harmony with them. He would thus be in possession of natural religion, embracing a body of truths .to be accepted, o~ duties to be fulfilled, and the cor-responding sanctions, full natural happiness or proportionate punishment in a future life, for the observance or violation of such fundamental duties. The creation of the universe, and of man in particular, was utterly gratuitous, the outcome of ineffable love. It was ef-fected, not that God might acquire something hitherto wanting, but in order to share the divine treasures with His creatures. Such is the way of true love: it purposes, not the enrichment of the lover, but that of the beloved. Infinite in every manner, God cannot increase His possessions, but He can and does apportion them among His creatures. To this love we all owe our origin; and, having lavished on man all that is inherent to his nature, the Almighty might have been content with His majestic universe and prescribed for us that we employ our native powers for the acquirement of our perfection and ulti-mate destiny, which would consist in a knowledge and love of God derived from the world around us and in a proportionate 83 DANIEL J. M. CALLAHAN Review fo~" Religious happiness here and in the world to come. The creature man could lay claim to nothing more: But God was motivated by love, and true love never says enough, for its measure is to love Without measure. God could and would do for man something more wonderful. Leaving intact his human nature, God engrafted on it another nature, a reality absolutely transcending the re-quirements and exigencies of his nature, a finite participation in the divine nature, constituting him His child and ordaining him to partake of His life through grace here and through the light of glory in the world to come. In a very summary style, such is the content of the revealed truth of our elevation to the super-natural order. A brief clarification may be desirable. God has made known to us the eternal generation of His divine Son, who while differing in person from the Father, shares in one and the same nature with Him. The Second Person is the natural Son of God, consubstantial with the Father, and with the latter the divine principle from which proceeds the Holy Spirit. This is the adorable mystery of the H01y Trinity. Analogically, in a finite manner, at the moment of man's creation God adopted him, extending to him the divine filiation. Rema!ning a creature, man was elevated to the dignity of son of God, enabled to live on a level exceeding all man's natural powers, and to enjoy forever the immediate vision of God in heaven. We are in the presence of a divine marvel, conferred on our first parents, and sincerely proffered to their offspring. Thrbugh the most disinterested and inexpressible goodness and love, G~d implanted in their souls what, not inappropriately we trust, may be termed a supernatural organism, closely paralleling their natural organism and admirably fitting them i~or their adopted life. This included sanctifying grace, corresponding to the human soul, the infused virtues and gifts of the Holy Spirit, analogous to human faculties, and actual grace to supplement God's natural cooperation in created activities. In virtue of habitual grace we 84 March, 1957 THE SUPERNATURAL LIFE share, in a finite degree, in the divine nature; we are God's'chil-dren and heirs of heaven. The infused virtues and gifts of the Holy Spirit perfect our faculties, and actual grace sets the organ-ism in action, enabling us to perform supernatural, meritorious deeds that confer on us a title to the vision of God and life e~ernal with Him. In addition to this supernatural organism the Creator bestowed on our first parents the prerogative of integrity, a preternatural gift excelling their natural constituents and implying the absence of concupiscence and the control of the passions, which, with-out rendering them impeccable, greatly facilitated the practice of virtue. By nature, too, man is incident to sickness and death, but a specific disposition of divine providence gave assur-ance to him of the immortality of his body. Finally, in order to ready Adam for his role as head of humanity, he was granted infused knowledge of the truths needful for the discharge of his unique responsibility. Such privileges implemented human nature with moral rectitude, adjusted it to the life of gr.ace, and, with the exception of infused knowledge, were not a pdrsonal endowment, but a family patrimony to be transmitted to us, conditioned on Adam's fidelity to God. To enable"them to .merit heaven, our first parents~ retained their freedom, the power of turning from real good to that which is btit apparent good. A divine precept was imposed on them. Satan tempted them to disobedience and because of pride and sensuality they succumbed. With the knowledge of God's liberality to them, His inalienable rights to their compliance, the gravity of the mandate, and the severity of the sanction, their willfulness implied a negation of the Creator's dominion and wisdom, and was a grievous sin. What were the consequences? God might have put them to death immediately, b'ut His goodness and mercy are in the fore. He forebore, and though they had forfeited sanctifying grace God condescended to retain in them the virtues of faith and hope. 85 DANIEL J. M. CALLAHAN Review for Religious Through actual grace He induced them to repent, forgave the .sin, and gave them the assurance of a redeemer who would vanquish the evil spirit and reinstate fallen humanity. Nor was their nature impaired, and though weaker in comparison with the energy it enjoyed through the prerogative of integrity, there~ is no conclusive evidence that it was more feeble than it would have been in a purely natural order. In lieu of inheriting their original patrimony, because of the sin of our first parents, we enter the world destitute of sanctifying grace, the infused virtues, the gifts of the Holy Spirit, integrity and immunity from sickness and death. Our situation is similar to that of a child born after the loss of the father's wealth through fault or financial failure: we have suffered a mo-mentous deprivation, but no injustice. The resultant struggle against our lower nature may be arduous and protracted, .but God will never be wanting with His grace and we can achieve victory. Having vividly depicted this inner conflict, St. Paul poses the question: "Unhappy man that I am, who will deliver me from the body of this death?" And he replies at once: "The grace of God through Jesus Christ." Salvation is attainable only through the grace merited ~or us by Christ. Impelled by purest love and measureless kindness, through the mystery of the Incarnation the Second Divine Person became one of us that through our incorporation in Him we may be one with Him. Through a life of obedience and self-abnegation, of adequate and even super-abundant reparation, our Blessed Lord compensated the divine majesty outraged by sin, rendered to God perfect praise, glory, service, and thus reinstated us in the supernatural life. Such is the Catholic dogma of the redemption, operative through the foreseen merits of Jesus from the Fall and effective for all time. Through the infusion of sanctifying grace original sir/ is remitted, and our natural faculties are properly orientated 86 March, 1957 THE SUPERNATURAL LIFE a.nd fortified by means of the infused virtues, .~the,gift~. of the Holy Spirit and actual graces. Christ established the Church,in which and through which He perpetuates His religion, a~suring to God perfect worship, and to us divine truth, wise guidance, and transcendent sanctity. The universal Mediator, the magnetic Ideal for all, through His transforming, divinizirig grace, remedies ~he disasters of sin, and through His sacraments and constant inspirations enables us to approximate the blessed statue of integ-rity forfeited through sin, thus restoring peace, s.ecurity, unioii here, and effortless beatitude in the life beyond. In conclusion, it may be well to assess our practical appr~ci.a-tion of the supernatural and of our superhuman dignity as chil-dren 6f God, brothers and sisters of Jesus. As religious we have superior advantages and we are circumscribed with every safe-guard. Profound faith, constant vigilance tempered with con-fidence, recollection, prayer, self-abnegation are the most appro-priate expression of our gratitude and the efficient means of expanding our new life in Christ, SOME BOOKS RECEIVED [Only books sent directly to the Book Review Editor, West Biaden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana, are included in our Reviews and Announcements. The following books were sent to St. Marys.] Nature: The Mirror of God. Report of the Thirty-Sixth Annual Meeting of the Franciscan Educational Conference, St. Anthony" on-the-Hudson, Rensselaer, N. Y., Aug. 16-19, 1955. By the Fran-ciscan Educational Conference, D.C. $3.50 (paper ~over). Hacia el origen del hombre. Pontificia, Comillas (Santender). The Bible and the Liturgy. Capuchin College, Washington 17, By V. Anderez, S.J. Universidad 120 pesetas (paper cover). By .Jean Danielou, S.J. University of Notre Dame Press, Notre Dame, Indiana. $5.25. The New Ritual: Liturgy and Social O~der. Proceedings of the National Liturgical Week, Worcester, Mass., 1955. By the Liturgical Conference, Elsberry, Mo. $2.00 plus 8c postage (paper cover). The Family Rosary Novena. By Leo M. Shea, O.P., and William Sylvester. Catholic Art Services, Inc., 500 South 4th St. Minneapolis, Minn." $1.00 (paper cover). 87 The I:: lucat:ion and Format:ion ot:: Religious Priest:s Pope Pius XII [EDITORS' No'i~E: This apostolic constitution was issued May 31, 1956, under the title Sedes Sa~ientiae. It states the general principles which are to govern the formation of religious destined for the priesthood. Many of these principles, we think, will be of interest to all religious. The original Latin text appeared in the ilcta/l~ostolicae Sedis, 1956, pp. 354-65.] sEAT OF WISDOM, Mother of God Who is the Lord of all k~owledge, and Queen of the Apostlesmsuch is the Most Blessed Virgin Mary, to whose honor We dedicated an entire holy year. With special reason, then, is she considered the Mother and Teacher of all those who embrace a state devoted to. the acquiring of perfection and at the same time st'~ivd to carry on the apostolic warfare of Christ the Highpriest. The pursuit of so excellent a vocation--religious, and at the same kime priestly and apostolic--urgently demands for its effective realization the leadership and assistance of her who has been appointed the~ Mediatrix of all graces pertaining to sancti-fication and who is rightly called the Mother and Queen of the Catholic priesthood and apostolate. We earnestly implore her favor, therefore, that just as she has procured for Us light from above in framing these regulations, so she may by her. protection assist those whose duty it will be to put them into effect. In the gracious kindness of God's providence it has hap-pened that, throughout the centuries, Christ the Redeeemer has breathed into souls of His predilection in an interior and, as it were, mysti~ conversation that invitation once offered in His living voice to the young man who asked Him about eternal life: "Come, follow Me" (Mt. 19:21). Some of those who by the grace of" God heard that call and like the holy apostles pro-claimed, "We have left everything and followed Thee" (Mt. 88 RELIGIOUS FORMATION 19:27), were also made by our Lord "fishers of men" (Mt. 4:19) and "laborers" chosen by Him to be sent "into His vinyard" (Mt. 9:38). This double vocation occurs today just as in former times, since the union of the states of religious perfection with the priestly dignity and apostolic ministry has become daily more frequent and intimate. For, generally speaking, the monks of antiquity wer.e not priests. The few among them who were forced almost of necessity tb accept the prie.sth.ood in order to convert men to Christianity were somewhat drawn away from their own Rule. In later times the mendicants, although imbued~ with an admirable apostolic zeal, were not all required by their Rule to be priests. Even the holy Father of Assisi himself was not a priest. The canons regular on the contrary, and especially the clerks regular, by a special divine vocation received and exer-cised sacred orders. Finally, innumerable congregations and so-cieties of common life imitated them as clerical institutes. To these are added in our own day (fo~ ~God always provides for the needs of each age) some secular clerical institutes. Besides, at the present time, even in the older orders of the Latin Church which are not formally lay orders, all the mem-bers, with the'exception of those who ard called coadjutors or conversi, are destined for the priesthood, which is, in fact, a strict requirement for those who govern these orders. Consequently, in our time the Church has the benefit of a great host of ministers who devote themselves both to the acquisi-tion of. perfection by the practice of the evangelical counsels and to the fulfillment of the priestly office. This multitude of men constitutes what is called the religious clergy, side by side with those who are called the secular or diocesan clergy. Both are vigorous and flourish in the spirit of fraternal emulation and fruitfully assist one ariother under one and ihe same supreme authority of the Roman Pontiff, with due respect, of course, to the power of the bishops. 89 P~us XII Review for Religious In'order to attain properly 'and surely their double end, it ~must be evident to all that the religious clergy need wise norms by which to guide and promote their education and formation, whether it be religious or clerical and apostolic. Hitherto this need has been satisfied chiefly by the stitutions and' statutes ~of each group by which the training of the young men and their course of studies are regulated; and, of course, prescriptions and regulations of the Holy. See are' not completely lacking. Still, a set of general, coordinated, and more complete, norms which would be supported by the apostolic authority and which would be universally obseived has long been desired in order that this important work, which is of the highes.t moment for the good of souls, may be placed on a sedure foundation .and with continuous and fitting effort~ may be fruit-fully developed and perfected. So excellent a work requires the constant vigilance of the Apostolic~ See itself. Indeed, the diocesan seminaries, which are institutions for the common good in the Church, are under the active care and perpetual control of the Sacred Congregation of Seminaries and Universities. By the same token schools which are recognized and sanctioned by the Church as proper to those who are tending to perfection are likewise institutions for the common good and are subject to the authority of the Sacred Congregation for Religious. It was for these many reasons that, by Our apostolic author-ity, we ratified in 1944 within the Sacred Congregation for Religious, "the erection and establishment of a special committee or commission of qualified men who are to investigate all the questions and matters in any way" pertaining to the religious and clerical education of aspirants, novices, and junior members of any religious order or.society of men living the common .life without vows and also their instruction in letters, the sciences, 'and the ministry" (AAS 36 (1944), 213). 90 March, 1957 RELIGIOUS FORMATION This committee was ~made up of experienced men from different religious bodies and different nations. When the gen-eral congress of the states of perfection was called in 1950, all the existing documents which were relevant had been examined, details of information had been gathered from all parts of the world in accordance with the circular letters sent to all general superiors, and an immense file had been accumulated. After-wards, using various appropriate proposals suggested during the congress, the commission reconsidered and revised the schemata already prepared and finally submitted them for Our approval. Now, therefore, We are issuing a number of statutes, with a preamble containing certain fundamental principles and norms concerning the education and formation--religious as well as priestly and apostolic--of candidates. These principles and norms are to be kept in mind at all times by everyone concerned. II. In the "first place, We wish it to be clear to all th~it the foundation of this entire life, which is called the divine vocation, whether it be religious or priestly and apostolic, consists of two essential elements, one divine and the other ecclesiastical. In regard to the first, the vocation from God to enter the religious or priestly state is so necessary that, without it, the very founda-tion on which the whole edifice rests must be said to be wanting. If God does not call a candidate, His .grace does not move 'nor help him. Indeed, a true vocation to any state must be regarded as, in a measure, divine, in the sense that God Hims.elf is the principal author of all states and all dispositions and. gifts, whether natural or st~pernatural. Bu~ this is especially true of a religious and priestly vocation which is resplendent with so sublime a title and which abounds with so many natural and supernatural endowments that it cannot but "descend from the Father of lights from whom every best and perfect gift comes" (James 1:17). 91 PIUS XII Review for Religious The second element of oa religious and sacerdotal vocation, as the~ Roman Catechism teaches, is this: "Those are said to be called by God who are called by the lawful ministers of the Church." This by no means contradicts the things We have said about the divine vocation; rather it is most closely associated with them. The divine vocation to the religious and clerical itate means that one is destined to lead publicly'a life of self-sanctifiCation and to exercise a hierarchical ministry in the Church which is a visible and hierarchical society. Consequently, this vocation must be authoritatively approved, accepted, and controlled by the hier-archical superiors to .whom the government of the Church has been divinely committed. All who are charged with the task of bringing to light and testing such vocations must be alert to these truths. They must never in any way force a person to embrace the priestly or religious state, nor may they persuade or accept anyone who does not clearly show the true signs of a divine vocation. Similarly, no one must be urged to the clerical ministry who indicates that he has received from God a vocation only to the religious life. Moreover, those who have° been given the gift of a religious vocation must not be pressed or drawn into the secular, clergy. Finally, let no one be turned from the priestly state who is known by definite signs to be divinely called to it. Evidently, then, those who aspire to do service as clerics in the state of perfection and for whom these norms are estab-lished must have at the same time all those qualities which are required to constitute a multiple vocatibn of this kind, religious as well as sacerdotal and apostolic. Consequently, all the gifts and qualities which are considered n~c'essary for the fulfillment 6f divine offices so sublime ought to be found in them. III. Moreover, the ~eeds of the divine vocation and the qualities required for it, even when present, obviously need education and 92 March, 1957 RELIGIOUS FORMATION formation to develop and mature. Nothing is immediately perfect at birth, but attains perfection by degrees. In regulating this development all the circumstances both of the person who has been divinely called and of place and time must be taken into account in order that the desirdd end may be effectively reached. The education and formation of the junior members, therefore, should be thoroughly sound, enlightened, solid, and complete. It should be wisely and courageously adapted to present-day needs whether internal or external. It ought to be assiduously developed and watchfully tested with regard to the perfection both. of the religious and of the priestly and apos-tolic life. We know from experience that only proven and well-chosen teachers can do'.all this. These men.mult not only be eminent in learning, prudence, and the discernment of spikits and well-equipped by their varied experience of men and affairs and by their other human gifts; but they must also be filled with the Holy Spirit and that sanctity which will make them an example of virtue before the eyes of the young men. In the whold matter of education, certainly, men are more atkracted by virtue and a good life than by words. In the accomplishment o~ this important task, ~:he first rule for the educator should be that which our Lord proclaimed in the Gospel: '!I am the good shepherd, the good shepherd gives his life for his sheep , . . I am the good shepherd, and I 'know Mine. and Mine know Me" (Jn. 10:11, 12, 14). St. Bernard expressed the same rule in these words: "Learn that you must be mothers of your subjects and not lords: strive rather to be loved than to be feared'~ (Sermon 23, On the Canticles). The Council of Trent likewise frequently exhorts that ecclesiastical superiors "must first be admonished to remember that they are shepherds and not tyrants and that they must so rule their subjects as not to domineer over them but to :love them as sons and younger brothers. They ought to endeavor by exhortation and admonition 93 PIUS XII Review for Religious to deter them from what is unlawful lest they be compelled to administer due punishment after faults have been committed. Yet if, through human frailty, their subjects have done wrong, t.hey must observe the precept of-the Apostle, and reprove, entreat, rebuke them in all kindness and patience. Benevolence towards those who need correction is certainly more efficacious than severity, exhortation is better than threats, and charity accomplishes more than force. If on account of the gravity of the offense, there is need of the rod, then rigor must be tem-pered with gentleness, justice with mercy, severity with clemency. Thus, without harshness, the discipline so salutary and necessary for public order may be maintained; those corrected may amend their ways; or, if they are unwilling to repent, others may be deterred from wrongdoing by the wholesome example of their punishment" (C.I.C.c. 2214, § 2; Conc. Trid. sess. XIII de ref. cap. 1). :~ Moreover, let all those who in any way are charged with the instruction of candidates remember that this kind of education and formation demands an organic progression in which all suitable resources and methods are used according to circum-stances. The whole ~nan must be considered under every aspect of his vocation so that he may be molded in every part into "a perfect man in Christ Jesus" (Col. 1:28). As to the means and techniques of training, manifestly those based on nature itself and those which are supplied by the human research of our day, if they are good, are not to be despised. In fact, they should be highly esteemed and wisely used. Nevertheless, no error could be worse, in the formation of such select subjects, than to rely solely or too much on natural means of this kind, and to esteem of less importance or to neglect in any waylthe instruments and resources of the supernatural order. Indeed, to attain religious and clerical perfection and an abundance of apostolic fruit, the supernatural means, such as the sacraments, prayer, mortification, and others of this kind ~ire not merely neces-sary but primary and altogether essential. 94 March, 1957 RELIGIOUS FORMATION While keeping this proper order of procedures and means, however, nothing should be neglected that conduces in any way to the perfection of body and mind, to the: cultivation .of all the natural virtues and to the vigorous formation of the whole man. Thus, the supernatural formation, whether religious or priestly,' will adhere to a very solid foundation of natural goodness and cultivated humanity. Surely, the way to Christ becomes easier and more secure for men, io the extent that there appears in the person of the priest "the goodness and kindness of God our Savior" (Tit. 3:4). Although the human and natural formation of.the religious clergy is to be highly esteemed by all, there must be no doubt that supernatural sanctification of the soul holds the first place in the total course of training. For if the admonition of the Apostle pertains to every-Christian: "This is the will of God, your sanctification" (I Thess. 4:3), how much more does it apply to a man who has not on!y been enriched by the priegt-hood but who has p-ublicly professed his intention of striving for evangelical perfection itself? Indeed, by his office he becomes an instrument for the sanctification of others. Upon his own sanctity, therefore, depend in no small measure the salvation of souls and the spread,of the kingdomof God. Let everyone, then, in those states devoted to the acquisition of evangelical perfection remember and frequently consider be-fore God that they do not sufficiently fulfill the duties of their profession if they avoid grave sins or, with God's help, even venial sins. It is not sufficient to carry out only materially the precepts of superiors nor even to observe the vows or the obligations by which one is bound in conscience. It is not sufficient, finally, to obey one's own constitutions, according, to which, as the Church commands in her sacred canons, "each and every religious, superior as well as subject, is bound to order his life . . . and thus tend to the perfection of his state" (C.I.C. c. 95.3). All this they must do with full spirit and a burning 95 Review fo~¯ Religious love, not just from necessity, but also "for conscience's sake" (Rom. 13:5). Assuredly, if they are to ascend the heights of sanctity and to show themselves living fountains of Christian charity to all, they must be on fire with unbounded love towards God and neighbor and be adorned with every virtue. IV. When provision has been made for the sanctification of ,the soul, care must also be given to the most exact intellectual and pastoral education of the religious clergy. In view of its importance and aware of Our supreme duty, We desire to set forth and to recommend somewhat more fully the principles concerning this education. Both solid instruction, 'which is complete in every respect, and intellectual formation are most necessary for such religious. This need is clearly and fully deduced from the threefold dignity, religious, priestly, and apostolic, which they assume in the Church of God. The principal duty of religious men is to seek God alone and, adhering to Him, to contemplate divine things and transmit them to others. ' They must remember, however, that they can in no wise rightly and fruitfully fulfill this holy duty and attain to sublime union with Christ, if they lack that copious, profound, and ever more perfect knowledge of God and His mysteries which is derived from sacred learning. It is the priestly dignity of one who is distinguished as an ambassador of the Lord of all knowledge that causes him with special appropriateness to be called "the salt of the earth" and "the lightof .the world" (Mt. 5:13i 14). This dignity demands a full and solid training especially in ecclesiastical subjects, those, namely, which can nourish and strengthen the spiritual life of the priest himself and keep him free from every error and unsound novelty. This learning, besides, will make him a faith-ful "steward of God's mysteries" (I Cor. 4:1, 2) and a perfect 96 March, 1957 RELIGIOUS FORMATION" man of God, "fully equipped for every good deed" (II Tim. 3:17). Each member of the states of perfection fulfills his apostolic office in the Church according to his own vocation--by pious sermons to the people, the Christian education of boys and young men, the administration of the sacraments and especially penance, missions to unbelievers, the direction of souls in the spiritual life, or by his very manner of daily living with the people. Such works, however, will not be able to bring forth rich and long-lasting fruit~ unless the ,religious themselves have thoroughly learned the sacred teaching and deeply penetrated it by continual study. In order to achieve this solid and complete intellectual education and formation, in accordance with the natural progress of the .young men and the orderly distribution of studies, the superiors should diligently see to it that, with respect to the knowledge of letters and other subjects, religious students "be at least equal to the lay students who are following the same courses. If this is secured, the minds of the students will b'e more exactly developed anda selection can be made mbre easily at the proper time" (Plus XII, iVlenti noslrae, 23 Sept. 1950). Likewise, the young men will have been prepared for a more profound understanding of their ecclesiastical studies and equip-ped with suitable aids. Only qualified and carefully selected teachers should in-struct in the fields of philosophy and theology, and everything enjoined by the sacred canons and the prescriptions of Our predecessors as well as Our own must be religiously observed: Due reverence for and absolute fidelity to the ecclesiastical magis-terium especially should be professed always and everywhere and should be instilled into the minds and hearts of the "students. They should learn that prudence and caution must always ac-company the diligent and commendable investigation of' new questions which arise with the progress of the times. The method; 97 P~us XII Review fo~" Religious teachings, and principles of the Angelic Doctor are to be retained and universally followed in the philosophic and theological edu-cation of the students. With Aquinas as guide and teacher, all ought to teach theology according tO a method at once positive and what is called scholastic. In the light of the authentic magisterium, the sources of divir~e tevelati, ot~ 'should be accurately scrutinized' with the help of all suitable aids. Then let the treasures of truth thus obtained be clearly developed and effectively defended. Since the dep'osit of revelation his been entrusted solely 'to the magisterium of the Church' for authentic interpretation, it must be faithfully ex-plained not in a merely human way, by private jhdgment, but according to the sense and mind of the Church. Let the teachers of Christian philosophy and theology know, therefore, that they do not teach in their own right and name but only in the name and by the authority of the Church and hence under her watch-ful direction. From her they have received the canonical mission to exercise their ministry. Wherefore, while due liberty of opin-ion is preserved in matters which are still disputed "they must remember well that the faculty to teach has not been given them in order that they may communicate to the students their own conjectures and opinions of their subject, but that they may im-part to them the approved doctrines of the Church (St. Pius X, Motu proprio Doctoris Angelici, 29 June, 1914). Moreover, let all, both teachers and students, keep in mind that ecclesiastical studies do not aim merely at intellectual train-ing but strive for an integral, solid formation, whether religious or priestly and apostolic. Hence, they are not to be directed simply to the passing of examinations but to the impressing of a form, so tospeak, on the minds of the students, a form which will never" slip away, and from which, when the occasion arises, the student can always draw light and strength for his own needs and the needs of others (Cf. Plus XII, Address to Students, 24 June, 1939). 98 March, 1957 RELIGIOUS FORMATION To this end, intellectual instruction must first of all be closely joined with zeal for prayer and the contemplation of divine things. It must be so complete that no part of the pre-scribed subjects is omitted. It must be coherent and in every respect so compact and sound that all the subjects harmonize and form one solid and properly ordered system. It must also be wisely adapted to refuting the errors and meeting the needs of our day. It should include modern findings and at the same time be very much in harmony with venerable tradition. Finally, it should be effectively directed to carrying out fruitfully pastoral duties of all kinds. As a result, future priests who are so in-structed will be able to set forth and defend sound doctrine easily and accurately in sermons and catechetical instructions to learned and unlearned "alike, to administer the sacraments pro-perly, to promote actively the good of souls, and to be useful to all in word and deed. Assuredly, all that We have thus far said about the spiritual and intellectual formation of students especially tends towards and is clearly necessary for the molding of truly apostolic men. In fact, if due sanctity, and learning are wanting in a priest, obviously everything is wanting. Nevertheless, in order to satisfy Our most serious duty, we must add here that, besides sanctity and adequate knowledge, the priest certainly needs a careful and thorough pastoral preparation to fulfill his apostolic min-istry properly. In this way true skill and readiness in under-taking the multiple works of the~ Christian apostolate will be pro-duced and developed. It is clear that, if diligent preparation in theory, in technique, and in the skill acquired by long practice is an ordinary pre-requisite for the exercise of any art, then the formation required for that which is deservedly called the art of arts must be equally diligent or rather more exacting and profound. 99 PIus XII Review fo~" Religious This pastoral formation of the students is to begin as they enter upon the course of studies; it is to be gradually perfected in the course of time; and the final consummation is to be achieved, when the theological course is completed, through a special period of probation. According to its special end, each institute ought to strive, in the first place, ,that those who are to. be the future ministers and apostles of Christ should be solidly and deeply imbued with and practiced in the apostolic spirit and virtues, according to the mind of Chriit Himself. They' should have an ardent and most ptire desire to promote the glory of God; an active and burning love for the Church, both in protecting her rights and in preserving and spreading her doctrine; an inflamed zeal for the salvation of souls; a supernatural prudence in word and deed united with evangel-ical simplicity; a humble abnegation of self and complete submis-sion to superiors; a firm confidence in God and an acute aware-ness of their own duties; manly ingenuity in undertaking works and constancy in pursuing them once begun; a great soul pre-pared to do and suffer anythingf even the hardest; finally a Christian amiability and human kindness which will draw all men. There is, besides, another end to be sought in imparting pastoral training, According to the level of progress in studies, the students should be instructed in all those subjects Which are especially conducive to forming in. every way the "good soldier of Christ Jesus" (II Tim. 2:3) and to equipping him with proper apostolic weapons. Hence, in addition to the philo-sophic and theological studies, which, should also be suitably ordered to pastoral activity, as We have said, it is very necessary that instruction be given to the future shepherds of the Lord's flock in psychology ,,and pedagogy, in didactic and catechetical methods, and in other social and pastoral matters, under experi-enced teachers and accor~ling to the norms of this Aposto!ic. See. This training should correspond to modern advances in these subjects and make the young men fit and ready for the mani-fold needs of the preserit-day apostolate. 100 March, 1957 RELIGIOUS FORMATION In order that this doctrinal education and formation in apostolic matters may be confirmed by use and practice it should be accompanied by exercises which are wisely adapted to the level of development and prudently regulated. We desire that these exercises be carried on, perfected, and continually strength-ened, after the promotion to the priesthood, in a special pro-bation under experienced men who will direct by their teaching, advice, and example while at .the same time the sacred studies are continued without interruption. Now that We have stated these general principles by which the work of education of the teachers and students are to be molded and directed, We decree and declare, after mature and thorough deliberation, with certain knowledge and with the fullness of. apostolic authority, that the general norms under each heading of serious import are~ to be observed by all to whom they pertain. We also grant to the Sacred Congregation for Religious the power to implement under Our authority .and by means of ordinances,, instructions, declarations, interpreta-tions, and other such documents the General Statutes already approved by Us. The same Sacred Congregation is authorized to take all the steps that will tend to the faithful observance of this constitution, the statutes, and their ordinances. Everything to the contrary notwithstanding, even though worthy of special mention. Given at Rome, from St. Peter's, the thirty-first day of the month of May, feast of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Queen of the World, in the year of Our L~rd one thousand nine hundred and fifty-six, the eighteenth of Our pontificate. PIUS XII POPE 101 Survey oJ: Roman Document:s THE PRESENT ARTICLE will survey the principal Roman documents which appeared in the ~!cla/l/~osto!;cae Se~/is (AAS) during the period June 1, 1956, to September 30, 1956, inclusive. It should be noted that in the course of the article all page references to AAS, unless otherwise noted, are to the 1956 AAS (volume 48). During the four month period of this survey, only one document was published in AAS that directly referred to religious life. This document was an instruction of the Sacred Congrega-tion of Religious, issued on March 25, 1956 (AAS, pp. 512- 526). The instruction deals with.the cloister of those religious women who in strict canonical .terminology are called nuns. Henceforth, the document states, all nuns, even those who, by temporary exception, pronounce only simple vows, must accept and retain either major or minor papal cloister if they wish to retain the name and canonical status of nuns. Since Father Gallen in the January, 1957, issue of I~EVlI~W FOI~ RELIGIOUS (pp. 36-56) has adequately covered the detailed legislation on major and minor cloister that is contained in the instruction, there is no need to include a summary of the document in the present article. The Church and the Life of Worship Since religious by vow and by name have a special relation' to that virtue of religion which is concerned with the worship due the Divine Majesty, it is fitting that the next documents to be considered should be those which deal with public or pri-vate worship and with the Church in which the life of worship should be exercised. 102 ROMAN DOCUMENTS On September 2, 1956 (AAS, pp. 622-627), the Holy Father delivered a radio message to the city of Cologne, Germany, where German Catholics had gathered to attend the Eighty-seventh Congress. of German Catholics. Taking as his own the general theme of the Congress "A sign to the nations," the Pontiff proceeded to outline three ways in which the Church today is clearly and truly a sign to the nations of the world. The first way in which the Church is such a sign derives from the consid-eration that, ~although erroneous ideologies of the last century have attempted to introduce themselves into the Church, still she has always kept safe and intact all the dogmatic truths confided to her by her divine Founder, Christ our Lord. The Church's social teaching, both" in the past and in the present, is the second reason why the Church today continues tO be a sign to the nations. The third reason why today's Church continues to fulfill the prophecy of Isaias is to be found in the persecutions which the Church has undergone in recent years, for these persecutions show clearly that the Mystical Body which is the Church i~ even now participating in the wounds of Christ her Spouse. The public worship of the Church is in some way touched upon by the Holy Father in two documents from the period surveyed in this article. The first of these documents gives the text of the radio address delivered by Pius XII on May 6, 1956 (AAS, pp. 475-480), to the Fifteenth National Eucharistic Con-gress of Italy. The speech, though brief, gives a moving descrip-tion of the need that the modern world, splintered and divided by hatreds, has for the Eucharist which is the sacrament of unity and the bond of charity. The second document which is concerned with the life of worship also concerns the sacrament of the Eucharist, being a message sent on June 25, 1956 (AAS, p.p. 578-579), by the Holy Father to the. Sixteentl~ National Eucharistic Congress of France. The Vicar of Christ has only piaise for the priests and 103 Review for Religious faithful of France because of their desire for a living celebration of the liturgy of the Church; but he also reminds them that to this must be joined an intelligent and fervent devotion to Christ present in the tabernacles of their churches. In the life of the priest especially, continues the Pontiff, nothing can replace long and quiet prayer before the Blessed Sacrament. During the four months surveyed in this article the Holy Father has also contributed to the private worship and devotions of Catholics by personally composing and publishing three prayers enriched with partial indulgences (AAS, pp. 592-59J; 641-642). The first prayer is a prayer to be said l~y priests for the sanc-tification of priests. The second prayer is for the same inten-tion but to be recited, by the faithful. The third prayer is one composed in honor of our Lady, the Mother of Orphans. A partial indulgence of a thousand days is granted each time any of these prayers is recited; as is clear fi'om the nature of the first prayer, the indulgence attached to it can be gained only by priests. Medicine and Morality On May 8, 1956 (AAS, pp. 454-459), the Holy. Father addressed a group of coronary specialists. The body of the Pope's allocution consisted of a remarkable survey of the'history of recent heart research and manifests a surprising grasp of contemporary problems and difficulties in the treatment of heart diseases. The introductory and concluding "paragraphs of the allocution are also noteworthy for the Christian conception of care for the sick which they suppose and imply. At the beginning of his allocution the Holy Father recalls that bodily pain affects the entire man even to the deepest recesses of his moral being; for it compels a man to. reconsider his pur-pose in life, his attitude .towards God and neighbor, and the meaning of his existence on thik earth. Hence medical science, if it wishes to be truly humane, should also treat the entire man. It is here, continues the Pontiff, that medicine 'experiences its 104 March, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS own weakness, for it has .neither the authority nor the power to enter the realm of the human conscience. Medical science then must seek elsewhere that further aid which will extend and com-plete the work of medicine itself. At the conclusion of this same allocution Plus XII has oc-casion to mention the necessity of stressing the prevention of heart disease by the observance of those laws of hygiene which are dictated by the very structure and functioning of the human body.~ These laws of hygiene, he adds, should occasion the re-membrance of a higher disciplinemthat of the human spirit-- which consists in large part in a humble submission to the world as God has created it and to human society with the laws that govern it. Moreover, the recognition of God's sovereignty and of His merciful interventions in the history of mankind will lead to the acceptance" of pain and even of death; death, indeed, will lead man to the presence of God and it is this ultimate conclu-sion of the drama of human life that enables the sick to accept pain and that gives to those who care for the sick a real understanding and an efficacious program of aid. A few days after the preceding address, the Holy Father spoke to another group of medical men, this time eye specialists (AAS, pp. 459-467). The main topic of the allocution centered around the moral issues involved in the transplantation of a cornea "from a dead human body to a living person. Before considering this matter, however, the Holy Father took time to clarify certain other points which deserve mention here. The first point is concerned with the morality of hetero-grafts, that is, with the transfer of tissue or organs from animals to men. The morality of such transplants, says the Pope, must be determined by considering what tissue or organ is involved in the transfer. To transfer animal sex glands to a human body is immoral while the transfer of an animal cornea to a human eye causes no moral difficulty, providing the transfer is bio-logically possible and warranted. 105 R. ~F. SMITH Review for Religious The Pontiff then considers an argument sometimes used to justify the removal of the organs required in transplantations from one human person to another. The .argument, remarks the Holy Father, states that just as in the case of a single human being it is permissible in cases of necessity to sacrifice a particular organ for the good of that individual's organism considered as a whole, io also it should be equally permissible to sacrifice a member or an organ of an individual for the sake of that other organism or totality, "humanity," which is present in the person of a suffering patient. Pius XII, however, is quick to point out that this argument neglects the essential difference that exists between a physical organism and a moral one.1 In the physical organism of an indi-vidual human being, the members or-parts are so absorbed into that organism that they possess no independent existence and have no end other than that of the total organism. On the con-trary, in a moral organism such as humanity individual human beings are but ~unctional parts of that organism, which, there-fore, can make demands of them only on the level o~ action. As far as physical existence is concerned, individual human beings are in no way dependent on each other or on humanity. Humanity then has no right to make demands on individuals in the realm of physical existence. Hence, concludes the Holy Father, "humanity" can not demand the excision of an organ of an individual human, being, for such a demand moves principally in the realm of physical existence. The Vicar of Christ turns now to a consideration of the main theme of the allocution: the morality of the transfer of a cornea from a dead human body to the eye of a living person. Morally speaking, states the Holy Father, there is no objection 1The matter of physical and moral organisms has been considered by the Holy Father previously. Not all theologians have agreed in the interpretation of the Pope's teaching; for an introduction to the entire question, see Gerald Kel|y, S.J,, ~'Pope Pius XII and the Principle of Totality," T/~eological Studies, 16 (1955) 373-96, and "The Morality olc Mutilation: Towards a Revision of the Treatise," Theological Studie~, 17 (1956) 322-44. 106 March, 2957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS to such operations considered in themselves. On the one hand, such operations correct a defect in the patient; on the other hand, such operations do not violate any property riglits of the dead body, for a corpse is not the subject of rights. This last statement does not mean, he continues, that there are no obligations whatsoever with regard to the corpses of human beings. On the contrary, it is morally erroneous to regard a human corpse as on exactly the same level as the dead body of an animal. There remains in a human corpse, something of the dignity that belonged to it as an essential part of a human person; it was made to the "image and likeness of God"; to it in a cer-tain sense can be applied the words of the Apostle (I Cor. 6: 19) : "Know you not that your members are the temples of the Holy Ghost, who is in you?"; and finally this dead body is destined for resurrection and eternal life. None of this, adds the Holy Father, prevents the use of human corpses for legitimate medical study and research. The removal of the cornea from a human corpse, the Roman Pontiff goes on to say, can become illicit if it involves a violation of the. rights and feelings of the parties who are re-sponsible for the body. Neither would it be equitable that only the bodies of poor patients in public clinics and hospitals should be destined for such medical and surgical use. The Pope concludes by pointing out that public authority must likewise show respect and ~onsideratidn for human corpses. Moreover, the rights of the next of kin should be honored by public authority, though in cases where there is suspicion of death from criminal cause or where danger to public health is involved it may be necessary to give human corpses into the charge of public authority. Membdrs of the Second World Congress on Fertility and Sterility were addressed by the Holy Father on May 19, 1956 (AAS, pp. 467-474). His Holiness points out that the work of the Congress with regard to the causes and cure of involuntary 107 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious conjugal sterility is most important. Such sterility, he says, is a matter not only of social and economic concern, but it also in-volves s1~ritual and ethical values. It is eminently human that man and wife should see in their child a full and complete expres-sion of their mutual love and surrender. For this reason invol-untary sterility can be a serious danger to the stabil!ty of their union. Moreover, marriage unites two persons in a common march to.wards an ideal: the achievement of those transcendent values which the Christian revelation proposes in all their gran-deur. The married couple pursue this ideal by. consecrating themselves to the attainment of the primary end of marriage, the generation and education .oi: children. Fatherhood and motherhood, then, constitute the end to which all other aspects of n~arried life are subordinate. As the Church has always taught, the common, external life of man and wife, their personal enrichment eve~ intellectually and spiritually, and the spiritual profundities of their married love have all been placed by the Creator at the service of posterity. The Church, moreover, has steadfastly avoided the mentality which separates in the act of generation the biological activity from the personal relationship of the married couple. On the contrary, the biological conditions of generation must be placed in the unity of the human act of conjugal union which involves organic functions, sensible emotions, and the animating spiritual and disinterested love. These difl:erent aspects, says the Holy Father, may never be separated to the point of positively excluding either the pro. creative intention or the conjugal relationship. The relation-ship which unites the parents to their child°is rooted, it is true, on the organic level; but its deepest roots are to be found in the deliberate choice of the parents whose will to give themselves to each other finds its true flowering in the being which they bring into .the world. Only such a consecration could guarantee that the education of the children would be carefully, courageously, 108 March, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS and patiently provided for. Human fecundity, then, over and beyond the physical level, reveals essential moral aspects which it is necessary to consider even when treating that fecundity from a medical viewpoint. These moral aspects, the .Holy Father warns, must always be kept in view when methods of artificial insemination are con-sidered. Indeed, if by artificial insemination is meant fecunda-tion that is achieved entirely apart from that human act that is naturally the cause of human conception, then such artificial insemination must be completely avoided. Such insemination exceeds the limits of the marriage contract which gives the couple the right to exercise their sexual powers only through the natural accomplishment of the marriage act. Nor can such artificial fecundation be justified by reason of the intended offspring; for the matrimonial contract is not concerned with such intended off-spring, but with the natural acts which are destined for the engendering of new life. Moreover, the Holy Father's audience was reminded, any method of procuring human semen by direct, voluntary, and solitary exercise of the procreative faculty is like-wise forbidden; such actions, being of their very nature illicit, may never be permitted in any circumstances. The Vicar of Christ concludes his a11ocution with words that will have special meaning for all religious. He recalls to his listeners' minds a fecundity far higher than that of natural human fecundity. This higher fecundiCy is that of lives entirely consecrated to God and to neighbor; this fecundity involves the entire renouncement of family life, not indeed from a fear of life and its struggles, but from a realization of the destiny of man and of that universal love which no carnal affection is able to ¯ restrict. This, says the Holy Father, is the most sublime and the most enviable fecundity possible to a human being, for it transcends the bio.logical level to enter that of the spirit. As a conclusion to this sect.ion, it may be noted that on June 3, 1956 (AAS, pp. 498-499), the Holy Father gave a short 109 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious address on the nature and purpose of Canon Law in the life of the Church. Finally, the decisions of the Rota for the year 1955 may be found in AAS, pages 375-436. Miscellaneous Topics Several Roman documents between June 1 and September 30 were concerned with the saints of the Church. In two radio addresses, one to Rouen, France, the other to Loyola, Spain, the Holy Father gave clear proof that his oratorical powers are unabated. In the address to Rouen, the Pope, after giving a remarkable analysis of the Christian ideas and spirituality that shine forth in the very structure of cathedrals like that of Rouen, delivered an inspiring panegyric of St. Joan of Arc, praising her fidelity to her vocation, her consecration to an ideal, and the generosity of her total sacrifice. In the address to Loyola, the Holy Father (AAS, pp. 617-622) gave a spiritual profile of St. Ignatius Loyola, saying that the saint was characterized by the purest love of God which flowed over into an unconditional service of Christ manifested by intense love of the Church, the Spouse of Christ, and by total obedience to the Roman Pontiff, the Vicar of Christ on earth. The Sacred Congregation of Rites published several docu-ments dealing with one or other phase of the process that leads to the canonization of saints. On May 22, ~956, the Congrega-tion ?fficially acknowledged the two miracles necessary for the beatification of Pope Innocent XI (AAS, pp. 531-533). The same congregation also approved on February 19, 1956, and May 22, 1956 (AAS, pp. 584-586; 634-637), the introductioa of the causes of the following servants of God; Joseph Mary Cassant (1879-1903); Theodora Guerin (1798-1856); and Vic-toria Rasoamana?ivo ( 1848-1894). Next to be noted are documents that pertain to the intel-lectual life of the Church. By, an apostolic letter dated June 5, 1956 (AAS, pp. 493-496), the Holy Father established new 110 March, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS statutes for the Pontifical Roman Academy of Theology; the most important change is that the Academy besides its forty constitutive members may now have corresponding members throughout the world, the number of which is not limited. The Sacred Congregation of Seminaries and Universities (AAS~ 589- 590; 637-638) gave to the Institute of Social' Sciences of the Gregorian Univ~ersity, Rome, and to the similar institute of the Angelicum, also in Rome, the perpetual r!ght~ to grant academic degrees. The same Congregation, (AAS, pp. 638-639) gave the theological fa~.ulty of the Marianum the perpetual right to grant academic degrees up to and including the doctorate in sacred theology. One epistle and three addresses of the Holy Father deserve at least a passing word. On June 29, 1956 (AAS, pp. 549-554), His Holiness sent an apostolic epistle to Cardinals Mindszenty, Stepinac, and Wyszynski. This poignant epistle encourages the three cardinals and the faithful entrusted to them to show cour-age in the face of their difficulties and to exercise their zeal by letting the light of Christ shine before men. On May 6, 1956 ('AAS, pp. 449-453), Pius XII addressed the members ot: the Swiss guard on the occasion of the four hundred and fiftieth anniversary of their being founded; the Pope took the occasion to praise their loyalty to the Holy See. On June 3, 1956 (AAS, pp. 499-503), the Pontiff addressed an audience composed of women, engaged in domestic service "in Rome, urging them to rejoice in the silent martyrdom of their daily life and to take a holy pride in their life of service and obedience, since their obedience is not to men but to God who commands in all legitimate authority. On July 1, 1956 (AAS, pp. 573-577), the Vicar of Christ spoke to Italian members of the third order of St. Francis, reminding them .that they should be a school of genuine Franciscan spiritua.lity with a Franciscan doctrine of God, a Franciscan way of contemplating Christ, and a Franciscan way of imitating Christ. 111 QUESTIONS AND .ANSWERS Review for Religious Finally, it should be noted that on June 27; 1956 (AAS, p. 508), the Holy Office placed on the Index of Forbidden Books the two following titles by Simone de Beauvoir: Le deux-ieme sexe (2 vol.) and Les manJarins. (Both works have been translated into English under the titles: The Second Sex and The Mandarins.) This concludes the present survey of Roman documents which appeared in AAS between June 1, 1956, and September 30, 1956. The following article will summarize the documents which have appeared in the remaining iisues of the 1956 AAS. ( ues!: ons and Answers [The following answers are given by Father Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland.] --3-- What can be done to avoid the highly varying practices and in-terpretations of local superiors? It is not reasonable to expect all local superiors to be perfectly the same in these matters. The higher superior can avoid excessive variation by his directions, especially on the occasion of.the canonical visitation, and by organizing regular meetings of local superiors. Such meetings can produce many other profitable effects, for example, the assistance of inexperienced superiors, the imparting of new ideas, energy, and vitality, and the avoidance of the perpetuation of the same problems. Our constitutions state simply: ~The master of novices and his assistant are appointed for three years.'~ May they be reappointed repeatedl)~ and without limit? Both may be reappointed immediately and without any limit in the number of reappointments, since the constitutions do not forbid their immediate and indefinite reappointment. 112 March, 1957 QUESTIONS AND fl~NSWERS --5m May sisters drive cars? Canon law does not forbid sisters to drive cars. His Holiness, Pope Pius XII, has given the answer with regard to the constitutions: "The constitutions also, taken in both their letter and spirit, facilitate and procure for the sister everything that she needs and should do in ourday to be a good teacher and educator. That is evident in the purely mechanical aspect. For example, today in several countries sistdrs also, ih a becoming manner, ride bicycles when this is demanded by their work. In the beginning this was something completely new, but it was not contrary to the Rule." (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Janu-ary, 1955, 10.) If riding a bicycle, a common method of transporta-tion in Europe, is not incompatible with the constitutions, neither is driving a car. It is presumed that the sister is a competent driver and that, her headdress permits unrestricted lateral vision. A sister driver would often avoid waste of time by the community, prevent externs from learning private community matters, and would likewise exclude what is now a quite frequent imposition on seculars. Do renewals of temporary vows have to be received? Reception is the act by which the legitimate superior according to the constitutions, either personally or through a delegate, accepts the religious profession in the name of the Church and of the particular institute. In virtue of c. 572, §~ 1, 6°, reception is required for the validity of any religious profession, solemn or simple, whether the simple profession is first temporary, a renewal, prolongation, or final perpetual. A juridical renewal is a new profession of vows that have already expired or are soon to expire. It is to be most carefully distinguished from a mere devotional renewal, whose purpose is merely to renew one's fidelity and fervor in the observance of the vows. The confusing of the two can cause an invalid profession, especially by the lack ~f legitimate reception. A juridical renewal is a new religious profession and demands all the requisites of a religious profession. If the first profession was made for a year on August 15, 1956, it is evident that the renewal On August 15, 1957, is just as much a religious profession as the first profession. Therefore, juridical renewals must be legitimately received; if not so received, they are clearly invalid. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May 1949, 131-32. 113 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review fo~ Religious I am a secretary general. Will. you please explain the office of procurator general and the approved manner of recurring to the Holy See? Individual religious men and women have the right of' uncensored correspondenc.e with the Holy See (c.611) and may therefore write dffectly and in the vernacular to the Roman congregations, tribunals, and offices to communicate information, accusations, and petitions. This right follows also from the immediate jurisdiction of the Roman Pontiff over all the faithful (c. 218) a~d. from the fact that he is the supreme superior of all religious (c. 499, § 1). The counsel of prudence previously given in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS iS also ap-plicable here: "Religious should be instructed not to be quick to write to the Holy See, the cardinal protector, the apostolic delegate, or the local ordinary, or his delegate. Such letters demand a serious matter that cannot be resolved by recourse to one's owfi religious superiors. External authorities and dignitaries should not be annoyed by needless and extraneous correspondence; and domestic grievances, especially if purely personal or subjective, are to be confined by the family walls." (March, 1956, 100-101.) Matters appertaining to the forum of conscience and especially to the sacramental forum are sent directly to the Sacred Penitentiary; if forwarded through a procurator general or other agent, they should be enclosed in a sealed envelope. The preceding principle in practice will apply almost solely t,o priests. Outside of the cases given above, the manner of recurring to the Holy See is as follows: 1. In pontifical institutes of men. Every pontifical institute of men, whether clerical or lay, is obliged to ha've a procurator general (c. 517), who handles the affairs of his own institute, its provinces, houses, and individual members with the Holy See. The procurator general is obliged to reside in Rome; but when the institute i~ small and has little business with the Holy See, the Sacred Congregation of Religious will permit the procurator to reside elsewhere or that the affairs be fiandled by the procurator of another institute or by another agent,, even secular, residing in Rome. 2. Monasteries of nuns subject to regulars. The business of these monasteries with the Holy See is ordinarily handled by the procurator general of the same order of men. This is also done with sufficient frequency by monasteries that are not in fact subject to regulars and 114 March, 1957 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS sometimes also by third orders of men and women, e. g., by Fran-ciscan congregations of brothers or sisters. 3. Other religious institutes, e. g., diocesan congregations of men and pontifical or diocesan congregations of women. These generally recur to the Holy See through their local ordinary. Such petitions will practically always be first submitted to the superior general, and the particular ordinary will therefore be of the diocese of the resi-dence of the superior, general. Occasionally petitions are forwarded through the local ordinary of a pro'vincial or of a particular house. Pontifical institutes may recur through their cardinal protector. All of these institutes are also permitted to recur through an approved agent in Rome or through an ecclesiastic in Rome known to the Roman Curia. It is not completely unknown for a religious institute of women having a house in Rome to expedite at least some of its affairs with the Holy See through one of its own sisters. Furthermore, religious superioresses may send petitions directly and in the ver-nacular to the Holy See when this is required by secrecy or other circumstances of the particular case. The preferred language in communications to the Holy See is Latin, but Italian or French may be employed. Other languages, especially German, English, Spanish, and Portuguese, are tolerated; but their use, unless the communication is brief and of little im-portance, can readily cause delay. The communication should state the facts of the case and the petition briefly and clearly. All reasons for the petition are to be given with equal clarity and brevity. The same principle is to be followed in a petition to a local ordinary or a diocesan chancery. The reply of the Holy See is called a rescript. It will ordinarily b~ in Latin. A lay institute should secure an accurate and complete translation and should also strive to obtain at least a copy of the original. Questions may later arise as to the wording or sense of the rescript, and it is always unsatisfactory in such circumstances to work with anything but the original. It is evident that both the original and the translation should be carefull~ preserved in the files of a higher superior. The manner of designation of the procurator general is left to the constitutions. He is more frequently elected in the general chapter, but in some institutes he is appointed by the superior general. If the procurator general is given a determined duration of office by the constitutions, .he may not be licitly removed before the expiration 115 ~UESTIONS AND ~NSWE~S Review for Religious of that time without consulting the Holy See. If he is removable at any time, such consultation is not prescribed. The precedence and ex officio membership of the procurator general in the general chapter. depend on the particular constitutions. Is it permissible to give more suffrages to some deceased religious? The prescribed suffrages must be equal for all professed and novices, whether the professed are of solemn or simple vows, per-. petual or temporary (cc. 567, § 1; 578, 1°). Postulants are not included in the prescribed suffrages unless this is expressly stated in the constitutions. Such a statement is not found in the constitutions of lay institutes. The higher superior may command or exhort the members of the institute to give some suffrages to a deceased postu-lant. Canon law forbids that less suffrages be given to a professed of temporary vows or a novice precisely because one is such a pro-fessed or a novice. The wording of the canons does not forbid the giving of less suffrages to a lay brother than to a priest or teaching brother, to a lay sister than to a choir sister. However, this is opposed . to the spirit of the canons and is not likely to be approved by the Holy See. It is also not" found in the practice of the Holy See in th~ approval of constitutions. Neither the letter nor the spirit of the canons forbids the granting of greater suffrages to present or past superiors, and this is often found in constitutions of lay institutes approved by the Holy See. Additional suffrages are frequently given in the whole institute to the superior general, but in some constitutions only when he dies in office. This is also true of the general officials, but rarely when they die out of office. The same norm is also verified in the case of a provincial in his own province, particularly if he dies in office. This norm is extended only very infrequently to provincial officials, and only most rarely when they die out of office. A local superior is very frequently given added suffrages in his own house, but very rarely when he dies out of office. --9-- What is the obligation df religious to go to confession weekly? Can. 595, § 1, 3° reads: "Superiors must take care that all religious approach the sacrament of penance at least o~ce a week." I16 March, 1957 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS The canon places no obligation on religious to confess at least once a week. The obligation of the canon extends on!y to superiors, who must make it possible for their subjects to confess at least once a week and exercise prudent vigilance that they do so. The canon also gives superiors the right of inquiring wheth'er their subj~ects so fre-quent the sacrament of penance, and the subjects are Obliged to answer truthfully. The superior has the right likewise of inquiring whether the subject, goes to the designated confessors but may not inquire about either the fact of approach to or the person of the occasional confessor. It is evident that this right of vigilance and inquiry is to be used prudently in such a delicate matter. When the constitutions merely repeat the code in this matter, there is no obligation of weekly confession even from the constitutions. However, the code presupposes that such an obligation exists at least from custom. 'Almost universally the constitutions oblige religious to confess at least once a week. Since the constitutions and customs do not oblige under sin, the omission of the weekly confession will not be a sin in itself and a reasonable cause will justify its omission. The omission of confession for a pr01onged period of time, except in special cases (e.g., scrupulosity), is not in accord with the supposition of the canon or the sanctity of the religious state. Is special jurisdiction postu.lants? required for the confessions of female The necess.ity of special jurisdiction extends only to professed religious women and novices, not to postulants, who are absolved in virtue of the same jurisdiction as secular women (c. 876, § 1). Furthermore, the canons on the confessors of religious women (520- 527) apply to all religious women, professed or novices, of all religious institutes, whether orders or congregations, as also to all societies of women living in common without public vows. They do not apply to postulants. There are no special laws in the code on the confes-sions of postulants. In practice the postulants go to the confessors of the novices. A confessor of a group of professed religious women or novices and postulants must possess special jurisdict!on for religious women and the usual jurisdiction for the confessions of women. 117 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Why are religious obliged to go to the extraordinary confessor at least to receive his blessing? Religious are not obliged to go to confession to the extraordinary but they are obliged to go to him at least to receive his blessing. This obligation extends to professed religious women and novices (cc. 521, § 1; 566, § 1) and to novices in any institute of men, (c. 566, § 2, 4°) but not to professed religious men (c. 528) nor to any postulants. The obligation of receiving at least the blessing of the extraordinary is imposed lest any who should go to him be deterred from doing so by human respect. May a religious be the executor of the will of a parent? In virtue of c. 592, all professed religious, clerical or lay, men or women, are held to the obligations imposed on clerics in cc. 124-142, except when the nature of the matter or the context manifests that the particular canon applies only to clerics. Can. 679, § .1, applies exactly the same principle to the members of societies living in com-mon without public vows. Novices and postulants, unless they have already received first tonsure, are not subject to these obligations. Can. 139, § 3, forbids clerics, without the permission of their own ordinary, to undertake the administration of property that belongs to lay persons. Therefore, clerics and consequently professed religious also are forbidden to be guardians of orphans or widows or to be the administrators of executors of wills of lay people. To do so, religious must have the permission of their higher superior if their institute is clerical and exempt, or of the local ordinary in the case of all other religious. 118 ook Reviews [Material for this department should be sent to Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West. Baden Springs, Indiana.] THE TWO-EDGED SWORD. An interpretation of the Old Testa. ment. By John L. McKenzie, S.J. Pp. 317. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee 1. 1956. $4.50. We agree absolutely with. the opening words of the Catholic Biblical Quarterly review of The Two-Edged Sword: "This is. a suprendely important book.". Reading The Two-Edged .Sword is an experience ,which no priest nor religious should deny himself. In recent' years study of the Bible has become an exact science, one in which linguistic, archaeological, and historical discoveries in the Near East have illuminated nearly every portion of the Old Testa-ment. This modern acquaintance with the past has led to intensely specialized work on the Bible, work that is usually highly technical. And it has been said that this. vast new area of study has been scien-tifically profitable but spiritually barren. The latter charge cannot be made by anyone who reads The Two-Edged Sword. It is true that isolated problems and individual sections of the Old Testament do not lack plentiful technical discussions. Yet the scholar '~lone is able to assemble the dissected parts. While such dismantling is necessary, the Old Testament is a literary whole and should be er~countered as such. Father McKenzie arranges for just such an encounter in presenting the significance of the Old Testament viewed in the light of the new learning. Few authors in any language have ventured so comprehensive an interpretation of the Old Testa-merit. Both simple and profound, The Two-Edged Sword is the work of an artist with literary, linguistic, scientific, and, above all, deep psychological and spiritual insight, generated, no doubt, by years.of contact with God's word. Father McKenzie's method is orderly with-out being cramped or overly schematic. Beginning with the concept of sacred books, the author points out the significance of the fact that God could and 'did speak to man. Such revelation, in its con-crete historical setting, formed the Hebrew idea of Yahweh,. of the history and origin of the world, of man, and of the nations. The 119 Book REVIEWS Review for Religious hope of the future, the mystery of iniquity, life, death, prayermthese are some of the topics of the one scientifically conceived and artistically developed whole. And this whole is concluded with a chapter pointing out that while the Old Te.stament is significant in itself, it is vital in understanding the New Testament and its central figure, the In-carnate Word. Father McKenzie has written The Two-Edged Sword for the general reader, the man to whom God speaks through the inspired authors and who needs a guide through Hebrew thought patterns, Hebrew beliefs, and Hebrew history. Since God "wrote through the ancient Hebrew," the author suggests, "the more we know of their habits of mind and speech, the better we shall apprehend the full meaning of the word of God." And the word of God, today, yester-day, and tomorrow, cannot be neglected without peril. The Two-Edged Sword is a positive contribution to solid devotion, devotion based on the word of God in all its implications. The book is as modern as the recent Suez crisis, the problems of Hungarian revolt and Red terror. The reader will find nothing of the fustian and antiquated, but will sense an approach which is modern and which is anchored to the world of the past ~in which men' felt they could reach out and touch God." The author shows a deep reverence for the Bible, a reverence which the reader himself will experience because Father 'McKenzie articulates in precise and delicate language his own feelings. While the book is devotional, modern, and reverently done, Father McKenzie skillfully turns science to the cause of spiritual significance without in any way demeaning science. Father McKenzie's style, the reader will observe, is characterized by economy, elegance, and exactness--qualities which seem to flow from his intense personal experience of life as seen in the light of the Old Testament, from years of careful study, and from the discipline of scholarly writi'ng. There is a large enlightenment, a broadness of outlook present on every page of The Two-Edged Sword. For these reasons, The Two-Edged Sword, the only work of its kind in English, meets the test of a great book: it yields new insights with each reading. The only. satisfying and logical reaction to a supremely important work is to read it.--P. JOSEPH CAHILL, S.J. 120 1957 BOOK REVIEWS STEPHEN T. BADIN, PRIEST IN THE WILDERNESS. By J. Herman Schauinger. Pp. 317. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee 1. -1956. $7.50. Historian Schauinger, whose two previous volumes were note-worthy for their diligent, constructive scholarship, has performed a ¯ genuine service for American Catholics in the work here under con-sideration. His well-documented study of the forthright Badin is a distinct step toward the proper appreciation of a character already held in high esteem though not as thoroughly understood as he deserves. A certain amount of studious (if not studied) controversy sur-rounds Father Badin, as is always the case with strong, virile char-acters. It is the happy task of the author to champion the priestly pioneer by bringing to light the very sources of misunderstanding. Badin emerges from the investigation convincingly unscathed, a man of gigantic but not overdrawn proportions facing very real problems. In a word, Badin is depicted as truly worthy of the honor that was 'his, both as the first priest ordained in the United States and as a venerated missionary still marvelously active in his declining years. Tracing the early development of American Catholicism through the eyes of the sacerdotal frontiersman, the writer enables his audience keenly to perceive numerous pastoral problems and the way in which the missionary must face them. Native ingenuity, a priestly educa-tion continued through life under tremendous handicaps, advice from far distant theologians--all play a part in the picture. The connec-tion between such problems and controversy surrounding Badin is obvious enough to the student of American history. But the religious reader cannot avoid the reflection that Badin could not have faced the challenge so well and for so l~ng a time unless he drew down tremendous graces by a sincerely zealous life and by continual prayer. If Badin faced problems, social, moral, canonical, and civil in character, he also faced the prejudice, intolerance, and bigotry of the incredibly misinformed and the violently emotional irreligionists of his day. H~ faced this latter group quite' positively by making the Catholic position clear in sermons, in conversation, in letters, and in the press. He sustained, moreover, those disagreements which unfortunately arise between people who are. trying to work for a common cause when the proper course of action is not clear. And the import of 121 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious the present .volume is that he faced such conflicts reasonably, if firmly. There is no wonder that some little traces of misunderstanding still surround him in death. It is, however, a praiseworthy thing that his modern apologist has seen fit to put these elements into proper perspective. It must be noted, nonetheless, that historical research regarding Badin, so remarkably and painstakingly furthered by the. au.thor, has not completely solved certain mysteries. Among these are the reason for Badin's sojourn in Europe and an ad.equate explanation of his temporary life as a Dominican novice. The author's conjectures on these two points seem possibly to go beyond the bounds of scholarly limitations superbly maintained in the work as a whole. The book will unquestionably repay the careful study of the serious historian as well as the more cursory reading of the mature religious. Its narrative for the most part flows smoothly and its message is pertinent not only as satisfying an historial need but also as an incentive to the apostolic spirit of the discerning reader. --MATTHEW E. CREIGHTON, S.J. CONTEMPORARY CHURCH ART. Text by Anton Henze and Theodor Filthaut. Translated from the German by Cecily Hastings. Edited with a preface by Maurice Lavanoux. 64 pages of text, 125 full page photographs of American and European churches, statues, vestments, etc. Sheed and Ward, New York. 1956. $7.50. "Art reflects the thinking of the times," so the age-old adage aptly describes the historical development and progress of man's theoretical and practical application toward intellectual and structural beauty, form, and function. But there are two trends stemming from this adage that indicate different directions of analysis. The one considers the general crass materialism of today's thought materialized in the plain, low, sprawling, accent-on-the-materials-used type of art and architecture; the second is a sincere and earnest effort to unite and utilize man's noblest religious aspirations in an entirely new approach (as opposed to historicism), seeking worshipful entrance and devotional proximity via the liturgy to the altar of God: Introibo ad altare Dei. It is this "renewal of the creative manifestations of our time for the greater glory of God" that typifies Contemporary Church Art and recommends itself warmly to the layman as well as the priest, religious, artist, and teacher in the matter of church art. 122 March, 1~57 ~00K ANNOUI~CEMENT~ In "The Potentialities 6f Modern Church Art and Its Position in History" and "Church Art and the Liturgy" (two essays comprising the major part of the text), the authors, Anton Henze and Theodor Filthaut respectively, elaborate this theme. They define the nature and purpose of church art, sketch its history, analyze its anomalies in present times, and discuss the relationship between society and the Church and its imagery in the twentieth century. Using as their points of reference the ll~lediator Dei of Pope Pius XII and the Instructio de arte sacra of the Supreme Congregation of the Holy Office, the authors set out intelligently by positive instruction to check and correct the sterile sway of pure design and sentimental trash ("the enemy of faith") and encourage action to work for a renewal of "that artistic climate which must be a prelude to a sane outlook in matters of religious art." Particularly recommended are the brilliant, lucid plates which make up the greater part of the book, though it is a shade ~hy this side of fulfillment in that there are no plates in color. But there is an element of freshness in the variety of the selections of type and top-ography, including an ample representation .of American examples that is almost electrifying. These pictures truly speak a thousand words, at once removing stubborn obstacles of ignorance and prejudice and creating an eager desire for a v.igorous renewal of the creative manifestations of our time--"to make that renewal possible for the greater glory of God." Contemporary Church Art discloses the locus of contemporary church art.--l'~o\\',-~.RD .l.X'IAND

Transcript of an oral history interview with Robert William Christie, conducted by Jennifer Payne on 21 November 2013, as part of the Norwich Voices oral history project of the Sullivan Museum and History Center. Dr. Robert W. Christie matriculated at Norwich University in 1940, the youngest member of his class. Although he is an alumnus of the class of 1944, he did not graduate until 1947 due to service in World War II. Dr. Christie received his M. D. from SUNY College of Medicine in 1951. He practiced medicine in Northfield, Vermont, 1952-1954, then specialized in pathology and practiced as a pathologist at seven hospitals in northern New Hampshire and Vermont. He discusses his experiences in the military as well as at Norwich University and as a physician in his interview. ; 1 Robert W. Christie, NU '44, Oral History Interview November 21, 2013 At the Kendal at Hanover Continuing Care Retirement Community 80 Lyme Rd, Hanover, NH 03755 Interviewed by Jennifer Payne JENNIFER PAYNE: This is Jennifer Payne with the Norwich Voices Oral History Project. Today's date is November 21st, 2013, and I am with Robert W. Christie—class of '44—and we are at Kendal at Hanover Continuing Care Community at 80 Lyme Rd. in Hanover, New Hampshire. Thank you, Dr. Christie for agreeing to be with us today and to do an oral history. ROBERT W. CHRISTIE: Thank you Jennifer. It's a pleasure and, I believe, a privilege to be able to do this. I've called a few things that I've written to augment this oral history, and I'll start off with the Independence Day celebration address that I delivered at the Dartmouth College Green in Hanover, New Hampshire on July 4th, 2012. JP: Thank you. RC: "I believe I was asked to speak here today because I am one of the contributors to—as well as one of the editors of—Kendal at Hanover's recent book of memoirs, "World War II Remembered". My comments will be about some local history, some personal history, some family history, and a few beliefs that I hope you may find to be of interest, and perhaps even instructive. I will conclude by offering you a challenge. (break in audio) JP: -- now. OK. RC: I will conclude by offering you a challenge. First, the local history. My alma mater is Norwich University, the country's oldest private military college, which was founded in 1819 right across the Connecticut River in Norwich, Vermont. Its initial enrollment, as I recall, was 17 male cadets. Captain Alden Partridge, its founder, attended Dartmouth and later became superintendent of the US military academy at West Point. Partridge, an American education visionary, believed that Norwich University's graduates should be trained to lead in times of 2 peace, as well as in times of war. The concept of land-grant colleges, and ultimately the nation's reserve officers' training program—ROTC—were founded at Norwich University. The first land-grant college bill was introduced by Representative Justin Smith Morrill of Vermont in 1857—using Norwich University as a model and prototype—and was enacted into law in 1862. The mission of these institutions, which include Cornell University and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, as set forth in the 1862, was to focus on the teaching of practical agriculture, science, military science, and engineering—without excluding classical studies. I might add here that, during the Civil War, many of the Confederate Army officers were West Pointers—were West Point graduates, who had defected to the Confederacy, and many others were from the numerous state-supported military schools and colleges scattered throughout the South at that time. The Citadel and VMI are two examples. The only source of professionally trained officers in the Union army in the Civil War were graduates of West Point and Norwich University. Norwich University now resides in Northfield, Vermont, following a disastrous fire in 1866. An apocryphal tale has it that the university's old south barracks burned to the ground as an act of arson by Dartmouth College students who were intensely jealous of the attention Norwich's men in uniform were getting from the local young ladies. Since 1972, Norwich has been --" (break in audio) RC: "--teen-seventy-two Norwich has been co-ed—the first military college to become so. It now has an enrollment of over 2,000, including both cadets and civilian students. Last year, as I recall, the highest ranking cadet regimental officer, and one or two of the battalion commanders, were women." (break in audio) RC: I think I was a trustee during that time at Norwich, and I might have been involved in the discussions about integrating women into the Norwich family. So -- JP: That would be fascinating.3 RC: OK. Go back to. JP: Sure. Yeah. RC: "Next, some personal history. I spent eight years in the military. Three in horse cavalry ROTC at Norwich, and as an enlisted man and commissioned officer in the US Army. Horse cavalry had become obsolete, and I ended up in armor—tanks. My military occupational specialty—MOS—was tank unit commander. My military experience overseas in World War II was in the ETO—the European Theatre of Operations. I joined the 33rd Armored Regiment of the Third Armored Division. At the beginning, the Ardennes offensive—the so-called "Battle of the Bulge". The Third Armored Division was the spearhead of the First Army. My combat service was as its tank platoon leader, and eventually the company commander in a medium tank battalion. My promotion to company commander had much to do with fate, luck, and the attrition—300%—in men and equipment that the Third Armored Division experienced. From its going ashore in Normandy, until the end of the war. I moved up in command as my company's more senior officers were killed, wounded, or rotated. (break in audio) RC: "and a result of the attrition—300%—in men and equipment, that the Third Armored Division experienced. From its going ashore in Normandy, until the end of the war. I moved up in command as my company's more senior officers were killed or wounded. When the war ended at the Elbe River in Germany, we met the Russians, who had just arrived at the other side of that river. My survival and presence here today has a lot to do with my following one of Murphy's rules of combat: 'Never follow anyone braver than yourself.' Unless, of course, my company's orders from the battalion headquarters were taking that next objective, move out. I never felt brave or heroic. I just followed orders and trusted that I would somehow survive. It never really occurred to me emotionally that I would be killed. Now, some family history. On my mother's side of the family, my great-great-great-Grandfather, Johnathon Hildrith was a captain in the militia raised in Chesterfield, New Hampshire, and fought in the Revolutionary War's Battle of 4 Bennington in 1777 [sic]. I guess that makes me a son of the American Revolution—comparable to the Daughters of the American Revolution, whose name is much more familiar than the sons'. My great-Grandfather, on my father's side, George H. Weeks, was a sergeant promoted to first lieutenant in the Union army in the Civil War. American Civil War records show that as a member of the New York 115th infantry regiment, over his three years of service, he fought in 57 battles and scrimmages in Maryland, at Harpers Ferry, and Fredericksburg, Virginia—as well as in Florida, North Carolina, and Maryland. My father, George R. Christie, who's trained as a pilot and commissioned as a second lieutenant in the army's fledgling Air Corps in 1917—18. His memoir, "Wooden Props and Canvas Wings" tells, with humor and candor, what that experience and learning to fly was like in World War I. My younger brother, George R. Christie, Jr., enlisted in the army and was a parachute infantryman, AKA paratrooper. But fortunately, he did not have to serve in combat because Japan surrendered and World War II ended. He did, however, have to jump out of moving airplanes while in the air. And here are some of my beliefs. Perhaps my family history has led you to think that I am a hardcore, super patriotic, militarist by family tradition. Far from it. I found out firsthand what war was like, and I would like to see it disappear from the face of the Earth. But I fear it will not. I suspect war is built into the genome of the third chimpanzee. That's us, as Jared Diamond has characterized Homo sapiens in his book of that title, "The Third Chimpanzee". Anthropologist Jane Goodall describes troops of lower world-order chimpanzees systematically annihilating other troops whose territory they've coveted. Will and Ariel Durant, authors of the 11-volume, "The Story of Civilization" followed it in 1968 with a concise summary book, "The Lessons of History". I reread that 117-page book every New Year's Day. The Durants' chapter on war is not encouraging. Here is a quote: 'In the 3,421 years of recorded history, only 268 have seen no war.' Now, in 2012, you can add on another 44 years, and make that 268 out of 3,465 years. 5 Here are eight things that I believe to be true. War and religion are the two great constants in civilization's history. In our time, overpopulation of the Earth is a fundamental cause of most of the world's problems, especially war. Human ignorance, greed, religious conflicts, and weapons of mass destruction come next. In that order. If a country does not adapt, and prepare for war imaginatively and continually, others who have so prepared, will overcome it. The British were slow to find that out during our Revolutionary War when the colonials used the ungentlemanly tactics of guerrilla warfare over a period of seven years, to force the British to surrender. Number four, terrorists and drones are now the guerrilla equivalence of 21st century warfare. Number five, in warfare, science prevails. Prayer vigils and marches for peace, unfortunately, have not been shown to be effective. The world's acknowledgement of the overwhelming military and economic power of the United States is what has prevented, so far, another world conflict. Number six, American democracy—based, perhaps, on its Anglo-Saxon beginnings in English with the Magna Carta—shines as a beacon of hope to the rest of the world. Number seven, democracy cannot be exported. It has to arise from within a people, as did ours here in the United States. And number eight, our democracy along with liberty, must not be taken for granted. It must be nurtured, defended, and—when necessary—fought for when others threaten. So I am an unapologetic patriot, staunch believer in liberty, our constitution, and our way of government—with all its flaws. Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandeis stated, 'Our country's founders believed liberty to be the secret of happiness, and courage to be the secret of liberty.' So here's my challenge to you. On this day of celebration of our independence, for which so many Americans before us have given their lives—I challenge each of you to carry in your heart that secret of happiness. The flame of liberty. And to accept the responsibility and courage to preserve and hold high the torch that carries that flame. May God bless each of you. May God bless our independence. May God continue to bless America." So that's the end of that. RC: I almost flunked out of OCS because my voice projection was inadequate in the eyes—or ears—of "Natty Bumppo" who was the "Tac Officer" for our class at OCS at Fort Knox. And he told 6 me he was going to wash me out if I didn't improve, and he gave me a week to improve my voice as I spoke—that I would use in commanding troops. So I did. Very carefully, I went out behind the barracks and talked loudly and focused and so on. And so, a week later, he had me take charge of the company—the OCS company that I was in—and had me lead them on the parade ground by giving voice commands of which way to turn, where to stop, so on. Incidentally, as a footnote, my father almost flunked out of flight school at Cornell—pre-flight school—because—for the same reason—he was not giving commands loudly enough! And as a result, he had to, once again, command his troops on the parade ground. And during that exercise, he managed to march them into the side of the barracks. Which again, almost flunked him out of OCS. But my father was survivor, and he survived that, too, and went on and graduated from the pre-flight training, and went on to learn to fly in Arkansas. JP: Oh, my. So, where were you born? RC: I was born in Mineola, New York. My father said that the hospital in Mineola was in Nassau County on Long Island, and my mother was supposed to have a delivery date—which had passed by—and so, they got out in the car and drove around in the hopes that driving around would stimulate labor. And they were going through Mineola, and she started to have labor pains, so they drove right up to the hospital, and there she stayed until she underwent the delivery. So that's why I was born in Mineola, New York. But both my parents were New York City folk for generations. And I actually lived in New York from time to time, and—but most of my boyhood, and going up to public high school, was in Freeport, New York—which is also on Long Island. But the—when people ask me where I'm from, I always tell them I'm a New Yorker because I really feel I have that accent—and I just feel like that was where I came from. OK? JP: Yes. That's great. Why did you—how did you decide on Norwich? RC: Well, that's an interesting question. Actually I didn't decide. My father decided. My father was an employee of the Standard Oil Company of New York all his life. And he moved up in the ranks—so to speak—and it was the—talking to some of the—of his colleagues in the fuel oil 7 division. And he said, you know my son is thinking about going to college. Do you guys—you're all college graduates—do you have any suggestions to give me? Because I never graduated from college and my wife never graduated from college. And so, we don't know where to start. So, one of the guys during this conversation happened to be a Norwich trustee. And he said, George, I know just where your son should go. And he said, Norwich University. It's a beautiful location up in Vermont. It's a wonderful school. I'm a graduate myself, and he should go there. And my father said, well you know, I've been thinking about seeing whether I could get Bob into West Point, but I don't have any political connections—and he just went to a public high school, and wasn't a particularly outstanding student, so I don't think that will ever happen. And this other fellow—whose name was [Fred Coburn?] [00:21:46] a Norwich trustee—said, well you'll get the same kind of training at Norwich that you would have gotten at West Point. And he said, you know, I think that we can agree there's a war coming. This was back in 1940. And you've been in the army, you know that officers are treated better than enlisted men in the service, and when he finishes his experience at Norwich, he'll be commissioned a second lieutenant from the ROTC. So my father came home and told me the story, and said, that's where I think you ought to go. I was a good boy. I always followed what my mother and father told me to do. So I said, OK, Dad. And he said, I'll write the checks and we'll go up there when we find out whether you've been accepted or not. And sure enough, I was accepted readily. Because getting into Norwich was not a problem in those days—there were very few applicants, as it turned out—and they, Norwich, was really very happy to have anybody show up who wanted to go to Norwich. So I never set foot on the Norwich campus until the day my mother and father drove me up to Northfield, Vermont. And neither of them had ever been in Vermont themselves. They dropped me off at the parade ground. I gave them a big hug, and they drove off, and I never saw them again on that particular location until my graduation seven years later in 1947. After the war. So, that was my introduction to Norwich University. JP: And your major was a chemistry—you were a chemistry major --8 RC: Well, yeah. That's another story. I said, "Pop, you know, I don't know anything about college. How do you know what kind of courses to take?" And he said, "Well, you know, son, the chemists in this company do exceptionally well. And he said that they're well paid and they have interesting job. Why don't you take courses in chemistry?" That's how I became a chem major. I wasn't an outstanding high school chemistry student, but my father told me it was a good idea. So, being a good boy. And incidentally, I was the youngest man—next to the youngest man in my class of 1944, when I matriculated. Gerry Collins was the only one who was a few weeks younger than I was, and we were both 16-years old. JP: You were 16. You graduated from high school and were at Norwich at 16? RC: Well, and that's another story in itself because my whole career at Norwich—in those first three years before I went into the service—I was just not of the same mindset of the rest of my classmates. They were one year older, one year more experienced, been out with more girls, done more things, and so on. And I just felt—and I really actually was—kind of a misfit. And I always was a—you know—I wasn't a momma's boy, or a daddy's boy, but I always was a—I followed what my family told me to do. And that wasn't what most of my classmates experienced, I bet. And so—and that feeling dogged me through the first three years of college, and I did not terribly enjoy Norwich as a cadet—for that reason. I didn't realize it at the time, but when I got back, and put in my final year—after having been in the army, been through the war, and all of my classmates at that time—I caught up with them. Let me leave it at that. I felt very comfortable my senior year, when I was at Norwich. The first three years, they were not good years for me. JP: Oh. Did you join a fraternity? RC: Because I was a social misfit, I was never invited to enjoy the privilege of being tapped for a fraternity. It was only when I came back to Norwich, as a veteran, that—over at Theta Chi—which started at Norwich University – they invited me to come and join the fraternity. A lot of my friends were there, so I did. So that's my fraternity history.9 JP: But you were—you were editor of the "Guidon"? RC: Well, I would have been—in my senior year—I had worked up from the reporter, to assistant managing editor, to managing editor, and I was actually putting down—putting the newspaper together—the "Guidon"—and I used to go down to John Mazuzan's office. He was a Norwich graduate, and he published the "Northfield News"—the Northfield newspaper—and I used to set type down in his printshop for the headlines of the next issue of the "Guidon". So that's really—I think—where I got hooked on writing, publishing, editing—which exist through—have existed through my lifetime. JP: You've written five books, at least? RC: Yeah. JP: Yeah. So, I was going to ask what you did to relax. But you didn't—didn't really -- RC: Well, that's another story. At Norwich, in those days, you didn't relax. I mean, if you were an engineer major—civil, electrical, whatever, mechanical—or you were a chem major—you had lab every afternoon, except those afternoons when you were on the parade ground, or down at the riding hall. And there was no free time. And you went to bed at taps, you got up at reveille, and you didn't relax. It was go, go, go. But, you know, for a kid my age—a teenager—that was life. And this is what you did when you went to a military college. I didn't know any different. JP: My gosh. What was your least favorite class at Norwich? RC: Well, if you were a chem major, you had to take scientific German. Not something you learn to speak, but you had to read—learn to read German. The reason being—purported reason—was that so much of the chemical—chemistry literature at that time, was written in German. Because all of the chemistry research was going on in Germany in the early 19—late 19th—early 20th—and throughout the 20th century. So if you wanted to be a chemist, and you wanted to be able to read the chem literature, you needed to be able to read German. And I didn't enjoy that at all. And also, I must say, that it wasn't all bad. Because, having been in Germany afterward—and having some familiarity with the language—and not having learned it to speak, or really 10 understand it as it's spoken, but to only to read and to write—it was helpful to me, because I ended up as a—in the Constabulary—which, incidentally, General Harmon was the commanding general of—after the war—the Third Armored Division became morphed into the Constabulary—which was essentially a state police organization—and we were training new recruits coming overseas to be, essentially, state police officers—rather than people going out killing people, which is what we were originally trained to do, and what we actually did during the war. So I got to know German well enough. It was called Schlafzimmer Deutsch—Bedroom Deutsch. I think you get the connection. And so you get to use a lot of the language necessary to get along. And my job, as a troop commander in the Constabulary in the city of Ulm was to run the city through the Bürgermeister, the mayor. And so the Bürgermeister used to come to me every morning to get his orders of what the Constabulary wanted him to be doing or not doing. And so, you know, I had to carry on a conversation with him, and he spoke some English and I spoke some Deutsch, and we were able to communicate. So this course that I took at Norwich was not completely lost. JP: You may not have enjoyed it at the time, but -- RC: No. JP: Was there -- RC: But that's true of so many things in life, you know? You just never know how things are going to be useful, not useful—you regret them, you enjoy them later on—never realizing how important they might be in your life. Incidentally, I notice that I'm dropping my voice at the end of—do I don't know whether that's not coming through well. JP: You're still—when you talk, it goes up to the orange, so—mine isn't—let's see—upped it a little bit. I'll keep an eye on it, but you're looking—looking good. RC: You mean, I'm hearing good.11 JP: Yes. Yeah. Well, I look at this, and as long as you go in—up to the orange—you're fine. We don't want you in the red a lot, because then it could clip—although I've never had that happen—but so far, so good. Was there a favorite instructor at Norwich who you had? RC: Well, I had two—three. Perley Baker1 who was a professor of chemistry. Shorty Hamilton2 who was next in command. They had both been in the—in World War I, and they had been in the chemical warfare departments. And I liked them both. Absolutely different personality. Perley Baker stood up straight, was well-dressed, uniform, trousers creased, so on. Shorty Hamilton was a bit of a slob, if I may say so—very relaxed—very laid back, Vermont-type personality. And we all were respectful of Perley Baker, but we all enjoyed the presence of Shorty Hamilton. I'll put it that way. And if you had a problem, you'd enjoy talking to Shorty rather than Perley. That does not mean that we didn't think a lot of Perley. The third guy—I've forgotten his first name—his last name was Taylor.3 He was a civilian. He was very uncomfortable in uniform. I think he was at Norwich as an instructor in English because somehow he thought he might not have to go into the real service if he was a professor at Norwich. Anyhow, it didn't turn out that way because Norwich closed, and I don't know where he went. Never—but he taught English. And I loved that course. That's where, incidentally, the term "Natty Bumppo" came from because some of the readings that I did were Nathaniel Hawthorne.4 And it may not have been American history that he taught. It might have been teaching American literature—I think that was it—and we did a lot of reading of American literature. And I really enjoyed that. And I realized—I've realized, latterly in my life, that I should have been an English major, not a chem major. But, you know, I was on the Dean's List all the time, so it wasn't completely lost. JP: For the audience, can you explain who Natty Bumppo is? For those not familiar. 1 Perley Dustin Baker, Professor of Chemistry 2 Harold Chapman Hamilton, Professor of Chemistry 3 Ralph Carlyle Taylor, Assistant Professor of English 4 Natty Bumpo is the protagonist of James Fenimore Cooper's Leatherstocking Tales.12 RC: Natty Bumppo was a comical character in Nathaniel Hawthorne. I've forgotten all the details, but if we can break right now -- (break in audio) JP: And we're back with Dr. Christie. So, let me ask you. Do you remember any funny stories about life or people at Norwich? RC: Well, after so many years, it's hard to recall. But one funny story that I actually described in a publication here at Kendal, was a small essay called "Life's Darkest Moment" or "The Day I Goosed Shorty Hamilton". So I'm going to read this little essay. "It was one of those Tuesday or Thursday afternoons when all those of my classmates majoring in liberal arts were either back in their barracks doing Chinese infantry drill, i.e., sacked out, or walking towards around the upper parade of Norwich University to work off excess demerits, or sweating on an athletic field for some jock team. The sophomore chemistry majors—guys like myself—were doing the lab exercise requisite to quantitative—or maybe it was qualitative—analysis, down in the dingy basement labs of Dodge Hall. Major Shorty Hamilton—his real first name, I believe, is Harold, but I'm not sure. Major Shorty Hamilton and Lieutenant Perley Baker were the two professors staffing the chemistry department. Both had graduated from Norwich, and both had served in the US Army. Each was rather austere. Perley always looked spit-and-polish military, with his neatly trimmed mustache, the bright silver leaves on one side of his cocky blouse's lapel, and cross-flasks of the army's chemical warfare department on the other. And a Sam Brown belt tightly buckled over his upper torso. I always felt that he was the very essence of a Norwich faculty member. "Shorty" was what cadets called Major Hamilton when he wasn't within earshot. My recollection is that his first name was Harold, but the years have dulled my memory. Shorty was a bit more—no, a lot more—casual in his appearance than Lieutenant Colonel Baker. His was the appearance of a college professor who dressed as casually in his military uniform as regulations would permit. His uniform did not seem to have been tailored for him, but rather for Ichabod Crane. And although he was clean-shaven, he always looked a bit scruffy. Shorty was at 13 least six-foot six, and perhaps even taller. The only other person on the entire hill who was equally tall was my across-the-hall chemistry major classmate in my barracks, Jim Lombard. 5 [00:40:45] Jim always looked a day late and a dollar short, and a dead ringer for Shorty when viewed from behind. Well, the lab on this particular afternoon wore on, and there were those frequent intervals when certain laboratory maneuvers—such as filtering in a solution—consumed time that could not be usefully employed on much else except poring over the lab manual to make sure you had it right, checking your neighbors' experiments for reassurance that you were not doing the wrong one, or even light horsing around to make time pass until a liquid in the funnel made its leisurely way through the Whatman filter and into the flask below. It was this last interval of waiting that lead to my downfall. (break in audio) RC: Since there were only uncomfortably high stools on which to perch while working at the bench, we often stood up and leaned on our elbows with our heads down over the manuals, trying to appear busy studying. To protect our uniforms from misdirected reagents, we wore long wrap-around aprons, and thus, one man's back looked very much like another's. In one of the intervals of waiting for things to happen chemically, I noticed Jim's derrière sticking far out, as it always did when he bent over the bench across the aisle from my own—a consequence of his long torso. The opportunity was more than an 18-year old could resist at the moment. I had hardly swung an extended thumb at the end of my looping right arm at the inviting target. I connected this maneuver with a resounding thump that almost lifted Jim off the floor. Or at least I had thought it was Jim. Of course, it wasn't. It was Major Hamilton. No cadet could ever have been more embarrassed than I was at that suspended moment. Although greatly surprised by this assault from behind, Shorty slowly drew himself up to his full height, and looked around to see the perpetrator of this bold and unseemly attack. His eyes centered on me through his steel-rimmed glasses, since I was the obvious culprit. I stammered, 'I'm sorry, sir. I mistook you for someone 5 James E. Lombard14 else.' I didn't know what else to do, pass gas or wind my watch. The then current colloquial military aphorism appropriate for such extreme circumstances of mortification. The professor said not a word, but rather turned around and assumed his former position leaning over the bench top next to him. Of course, I expected to suffer some terrible fate as a result of this misadventure, but none occurred. No demerits, no report to the commandant of cadets, no invitation to discuss the matter further in the privacy of Shorty's office. Nothing at all happened. But in a bleak, and laconic reference to the events came eleven years later. I was practicing general medicine in Northfield, Vermont where Norwich University is situated. Shorty, now retired from the faculty, came into my office as a new patient. Not having seen each other since my college days, we greeted one another warmly, and made some small talk as I addressed his relatively simple medical problem, which was easily solved. As was the custom in civility in those days, Shorty thanked me for my ministration, but then, on his way out—and halfway through the door—he turned, and with a broad smile, said wryly, 'You know doctor, when I heard that you had become a physician, I thought that you would have specialized in proctology.'" JP: That's a good story. RC: Well, it's kind of unique to Norwich. JP: It certainly is. And well told—well told. Gosh. How did your training prepare you for your work life? RC: Well, I can't really say that my training at Norwich prepared me for what I ultimately did with my life. And my life experiences have been so varied, and I've done so many different things at so many times, for so many different reasons, it's hard to say that I was really prepared through anything that I learned at Norwich. Except a certain attitude about—I would say—responsibility and leadership. JP: What about both of those? What is it about responsibility? RC: Well, Norwich—as you know—attempts to train people as leaders. And one of the things that you learn as a leader, is that you're responsible for the people that are under your command. And 15 since I was a corporal—promoted to corporal my sophomore year, I had a squad of cadets that I was responsible for. And learned that—also when I was down in the barn—the stables of course, is what they were called—my first responsibility was to my horse, before myself. The horse got watered, the horse got fed, the horse got groomed, before I took care of my own needs. So, I think those little things probably inculcated into my personality the importance of responsibility. JP: So you are the class agent for your class and—do you—you stay in touch with some of your classmates? RC: Well, I've stayed in touch with as many of my classmates as I was able to. The class agent before me was a fellow named Al Lockard6—good friend, a Theta Chi—and he, unfortunately, died suddenly after having both of his hips replaced. And while he was working out in post-op therapy, had a pulmonary embolism and died. And the irony is that before his operations, he and I had either spoken or corresponded. And I said, you know, Al, I would never have two major operations like that done at the same time because complications of being on an operating table for that protracted period is an additional hazard. He said, yeah, I know, but the physical therapy afterward—I don't want to go through that twice. So that's why I'm having both done. I said, OK, boy. And that was it. And sure enough, he had what I had predicted, unfortunately—a sudden, severe complications. So I took over from him as class agent. And that was many years ago. JP: You have correspondence in the archives between you and Perry Swirsky. How many years did you guys correspond? RC: Well, that's an interesting question. Perry and I were roommates during my junior year. Perry and I had entirely different personalities. He was a Jew. He had entirely different life experiences from my own—had grown up in Springfield, Massachusetts. His father was a banker. He owned and operated a chain of furniture stores, and he was very well-off. And I didn't have any contact with him at all after OCS because at OCS—when we graduated, we 6 Alan T Lockard16 spread to the winds. He went to Sicily and Italy as a tank unit commander. I went to France, Belgium, and Germany as a tank unit commander. And so, we just lost contact with each other. And he hated Norwich. I mean, I didn't have a terribly great experience my first three years, but he hated them. First of all, he was one of only two Jews in my class. And he never really integrated with the class, and as a result, he felt like a loner and an outsider. And I, in my own way, also had those same feelings—for reasons I've already explained. I was too young, and hadn't had enough of the experiences my classmates had had, and I always felt as—to be—in a way, a loner—and out of sync. So anyhow, that might have had something to do with the reason that we linked up as roommates during our junior year. Perry—if I may diverge—was a very interesting guy. Somewhere I have recorded—or recounted—the fact that there were two members of my class that I know were awarded silver stars during World War II. Perry was one of them, and another one whose name will occur to me in a moment—I'm having a senior moment—also was awarded a silver star at Bastogne during the Bulge in Belgium. Anyhow, back to Perry. Perry was a platoon leader in a brigade that was assigned to an Italian tank division. And the relationship between the American units and the Italian units was—according to Swirsky—pretty ad hoc. So he was commanded one day to take his platoon and to take the hill that this Italian major pointed out to him. And he said, when you get up there, hold your ground and don't leave for any reason. And we'll be up to relieve you. So Perry did just that. And on his way up, he was literally killing Italians and Germans who were on that hill. And then, because he couldn't stand the thought of running his tank over a possibly wounded soldier—or even a dead one—he jumped out of his tank and was taking these bodies—living or dead—out of the way of his tanks and his platoon, as he went up this hill under fire. And then he held out at the top against a counter attack, which he and his platoon repelled. And then he found himself stranded. Nobody ever came to relieve him. So, after a while, he got his guys together and took them back down the hill. And he said, the Italians forgot he was there. He said, I didn't do anything heroic, but I guess somebody thought it was worth a silver star, so that's what happened 17 to me. Well, anyhow, that's a story that I don't think has been told enough times. But just the idea that he's jumping out of his tank, under fire, to take wounded soldiers out of the way, so he wouldn't run over them. I mean, the mindset—the moral—whatever it is inside him to make him want to do that—or need to do that. But that's the kind of guy Perry was. Anyhow, at our 50th Norwich reunion, Perry and I got together again. He was awarded the Distance Cup for the guy who had traveled the furthest distance to come back to reunion. He had come from Israel. So that sort of cemented his relationship, I think, with his alma mater. Which had waned from a very weak beginning. But anyhow, he came back to his 50th. And he came and stayed at my home in Lancaster, New Hampshire after the reunion. And we really got to know each other, and our wives had a good time. And then I kept in contact with Perry, and he invited me to join him—he and his wife Betty were going to London for a week—and he said, why don't you come over and join us? So I said, OK. My wife, Connie, wasn't interested in going. So I flew over and met Perry at the hotel that he had suggested, and I went to check in, and I found out I was already checked in and my bill was paid in advance. So Perry and Betty and I had a ball for a week. We went to the theatre, we did everything. And, you know, after that it once again cemented our relationship. And then we started to write by cursive letters, then typewriters, then I started to send emails—and he didn't have a computer—and I got on his butt a little bit and told him it was time he came into the 20th century. So he got a computer and we started to exchange emails. I kept a record of every email I got from him, and a copy of everything I sent to him—and kept them in a three-ring binder. And at the end of every year, I sent the binder over to Kreitzberg Library as part of the archives. And I did that until just this past month—October, 2013—when I got an email from Betty telling me the sad news that Perry had died. And of course, in those volumes of correspondence—which is mostly nonsense, inane stuff—but correspondence between two guys with similar backgrounds, similar experience, one living in Israel, one living in the State, talking about what's going on in our country or town—and he lived in Ashkelon, which is about five kilometers from the Gaza Strip. So he used to report when the mortar shells were 18 being lobbed into Ashkelon, and they would hide in the stairwells of their apartment building—and so on. So all of this stuff, I think, is an important part of history. I'm so pleased that I decided to send that stuff to the archives. JP: I think that other researchers use it. I know I've used it. It's a great resource. It's, as you said, guys talking about world events with similar backgrounds. What advice would you give a rook today about how to survive and thrive? RC: Well, I—free advice, as you know, some said, "is the smallest coin of the realm," but I give it freely and frequently. I give it to my children whether they want it or not. And I give it to anybody when I think that they need it. But anyhow, I don't know what life is really like for a rook at Norwich now. All I know is what I remember back in the '40s. But I would say keep your head down, keep your mouth shut, keep out of trouble, work hard, learn responsibility and leadership. Beyond that, I don't know what I could say. JP: Those are good. You have a poem that you wrote. Would you be interested in reading that? RC: Well, yeah. One of my avocations is poetry. I'm an amateur. I never taken a course in poetry or how to write it, every once in a while the muse seems to sit on my shoulder, and I have this tremendous urge to sit down and write something. And at first I thought I had to write rhyme verse, and I think that's probably what kept me from writing poetry most of my life. But when I was on an expedition in Greenland and I kept a journal—which I self-published—it is also in the Kreitzberg Library. I found that I wrote some poems when I was in isolation, up on the icecap. And so I'm really surprised when I looked back and find that I've been writing fairly seriously for about 20 years—the last 20 years of my life. Why? I can't explain. But anyhow, I can only write what I feel and what I believe. And a lot of it is counterintuitive, and politically incorrect, and whatever—but I wrote one poem that I used at a veteran's luncheon that we had here at Kendal. And the poem is called "A Veteran Speaks". And here it goes. "Intelligentsia, laugh if you will. Yea, sneer at the patriotic redneck fools who chance their lives and crouch in fear in cold foxholes for the likes of you. You, who take the high ground or the streets to stake out your 19 perception of the higher morality with placards shouting, "Peace! Peace!", and then go home to a warm bed. Could it be that your God is neutral, and doesn't give a damn whether peace or war prevails? You take as a given that God is only with you. You, who are on the side of peace. Could it be that peace is but an unstable interval granted by God for the rest between the wars he has ordained as a sorting out, according to one of his laws, the one that Darwin deciphered? If you were as wise as Sophocles, you would know that only death keeps time from inevitably eroding friendships—be they of men or of countries—bringing them inevitably to war. God must laugh at the prophets. Those mystical schizophrenics that even now show up in every land, and claim to have heard the voice of God speaking directly to them. Explaining his will, giving birth to the myths contrived to all and control the credulous. And when the prophetic religious move on to theocracies, and the great Theocracies then clash for the great sorting out—Darwinian style. Then, perhaps God smiles and says, it is good. Laughers and sneerers, moral high-grounders, you leave it to others to lose their lives, taking the high-ground on the battle field. Lives you think they gave in vain. In peace's time, you finesse your turn to follow the action of someone else's father, mother, cousin, forebear, who risked their lives for you with the love you have never comprehended. Too late, you may learn that you have never lived until you have almost died. And that for those who have had to fight for it, freedom is a flavor you—the protected—have never known, and cannot understand." JP: Wow. Thank you. (break in audio) JP: So, in the book that you wrote with a couple of your classmates for your yearbook that never was—then and now. You talk about missing something—maybe—whether or not—no, it's called "Do You Remember?" and one of them is the joy of being dragged out of the sack in the middle of the night for P-call, and then being sent for a cold shower when your personal plumbing refused to produce. What is P-call?20 RC: Well, P-call is "piss call," and it was standard operating procedure to treat rooks in that way, as part of their growing up. And—what do you call that now? When you mistreat people? JP: Hazing. RC: Yeah. That was one of the hazing treatments that rooks were occasionally exposed to. And P-call was not only occasionally. I'll mention one other experience that I had as a matter of hazing by my classmates. Was that Basil Burrell who was my roommate in my freshman year—were pretty straight arrows. He and I had similar personalities, went to the same church, we had the same standards, both went to public high schools. We just got along very well together. And Bass and I were taking what was euphemistically called "a ride" as a sort of hazing and discipline, and kind of a getting-even with people who were straight arrows, and who—incidentally—were whistle-blowers. Basil and I, living according to the code of honor and the rook handbook, said that if you see something that is wrong and against the rules, it is your responsibility to report it. JP: It's still that way. Yeah. RC: So we saw guys cheating at an exam in a military class. And we said, hell, that ain't right. So we reported it. Well, I learned an important life lesson right then. Whistle-blowers get in trouble. And Basil and I were taken for a ride one night—about 2:00 in the morning—it was the late fall or early spring—I don't remember that it was in the dead of winter—and were taken in a car, blindfolded, and driven around for about twenty minutes—on what obviously were backroads—you could tell from, you know, from the rumple and the noise, and the tread of tires on the road—and they'd drop you off and leave you there to figure out how you're going to get home. And so Basil and I went on a ride once, as retribution, I think, for the fact that we were whistle-blowers. So, that's another level of hazing. And I must say that when I mentioned this anecdote to Russ Todd—a former Norwich president, and a Theta Chi whose butt I paddled as initiation to Theta Chi—and he looked at me and rolled his eyes in disbelief. He said, you mean that really happened? And I said, you're damn right it happened. And I'll tell you something else, I bet it's 21 happening right now, right under the nose of the people who have written and our trying to enforce the honor code—whatever it may be. And he said, well, Bob, you may be right. JP: You mentioned that Perry was one of only two Jews at Norwich—and I know there was a fraternity of the Klan during the teens. Was there much antisemitism there? RC: There wasn't expressed Semitism—antisemitism. And there weren't really two Jews in my class, there were three—which is another anecdote, if you're prepared for this? JP: Sure. RC: The day that my folks dropped me off on the parade at Norwich—my very first day—we were lined up by the company—the troop that we were assigned to. And we were told to line up according to alphabet—we had little tags on—and so we did that. And I was at one end, and there was another guy whose last name began with a 'Y' or a 'Z' at the other end. And in between were two Katzes—K-A-T-Z. The Katz were Isadore Katz and Sidney Katz, and once we were lined up, the second lieutenant in the army—who was assigned to the commandant of cadets—stood in front of us and said, OK. Now I want you to sound off, loud and clear, your last name first and then the first initial of your last name because that's how you'll be known here at Norwich. So we went down the line, got to me, and I was "Christie, R, sir." Then it was the next guy, and whoever it was. Well, we got to Katz. And Lieutenant Kelly was standing there observing all of this, and it came to Isadore Katz. And he said, "Katz, I." And the next one was Sidney Katz, and Sidney Katz said, "Katz, S." Kelly broke up. And the whole exercise got out of control. But the sad part of the story is that Katz Ass—as he was forever known—I say forever, for the next three weeks that he lasted at Norwich as Katz Ass. He left. He just couldn't stand that kind of treatment. And so there was only two Jews, and one was Izzy Katz, who was a good friend, paratrooper, never dropped in combat—which we reminded him of frequently. But anyhow, he and I were also on the "Guidon" staff, and we were on the War Whoop staff. So the then and now book, he and I worked together very closely. And we became very close friends. And he was a real New York Jewish type—wheeler dealer—he ran a Christmas tree farm in some 22 place up in northern Vermont. He was in show business, he was out in Hollywood, he was writing script and so on—wonderful guy—and I got to meet him again when he was living out in Tucson when I was visiting some of my wife's relatives out there. So anyhow, that's the story of Jews at Norwich in 1940-41—particularly of Katz, I and Perry Swirsky. JP: You mentioned earlier about being on the board of trustees when Loring Hart was president and considering adding women to the core. Do you want to talk about that at all? RC: Well, there isn't an awful to talk about. It happened. I would say the majority of the alumni were against it. Just as, here at Dartmouth, when it integrated and had women, the alumni were up in arms. And it was only the strength of character of the president and the trustees—said, it's going to happen. And that's what happened with Norwich trustees and Loring Hart said, this is going to happen. It's got to happen. And of course, this was before the civilian component. These were just women who were being integrated into the cadet corps. So, that was a big deal. JP: What were they afraid of? Not be obvious—not to be obtuse. RC: You know, in Fiddler on the Roof—it's tradition. Tradition. This is a men's college, it's a military college. Women have no place in the military. You know, whatever. That's history. Who would ever dream that there would be gay marriages in our time. JP: And Don't Ask Don't Tell got repealed. RC: Exactly. JP: Do you have anything else that you would like to add? Is there anything else you'd like to say? RC: Only to congratulate you and your tolerance of all that you've had to go through to take this interview. And I'm enjoying it immensely while it's happening. And, again, it's something for posterity, and that's part of what I do. Litera scripta manet, the written word endures. I think the spoken word, in our time, also endures. Someone may be listening to this 100 years from now, wanting to wonder what life was like in the early 20th century at Norwich. JP: It has absolutely been my honor and pleasure to talk with you, Dr. Christie. Thank you so much. RC: Well, thank you so much.23 JP: All right. (break in audio) [1:18:51] JP: And we're back with Dr. Christie, talking about his relationship with Dartmouth. RC: When I went to medical school, it was courtesy of the GI Bill and the Norwich Dean at the time, who made it possible for me to get into medical school without the preexisting courses that every pre-med has to take to apply to medical school. Zoology and comparative anatomy—which is dissecting cats and frogs and so on. The Dean at Norwich let me take freshman zoology and sophomore comparative anatomy in the pre-med program during my senior year, so that I would have the basic qualifications to apply to medical school. I had the good fortune to have a family friend who was on the admissions committee of the Long Island College of Medicine in Brooklyn, New York. I won't go into further detail—that's unnecessary—but anyhow, graduating from Norwich magna cum laude—having the World War II experience, the friendship of a member of the admissions committee of the medical school—all led to the fact that I was able to get into medical school at a time when GIs were coming back in droves—all with GI Bill opportunities ahead of them—and all trying to get into the existing colleges and universities. Well, I won't go into further detail, but the Long Island College of Medicine morphed into the State University of New York. So although I matriculated into a private medical college in Brooklyn, I actually graduated from the State University of New York at New York City—which was the official name at the time. It's now known as Downstate. And Downstate has an established academic history that I think has been accomplished since it was put together. The reason that SUNY was founded was that New York state found that they had no state university, much to their amazing. There were all kinds of private universities and colleges all over the state, but there was never any need for a state university. So they cobbled together one, and they needed medical schools, graduate schools, law schools, and so on. And Syracuse's medical school—which was a private medical college, like Long Island College of Medicine—became the SUNY upstate medical school, and Long Island College became the downstate medical school. 24 And that's the way they exist at the present time. Anyhow—with that little footnote—when it came year for me to graduate, I had just been very fortunate to graduate where I did in my class. Which was right about in the middle. You know, one thing that most people don't realize—and it's important—that 50% of the doctors in the Unites States graduated in the lower half of their medical school class. But anyhow—that being said—I did actually write two medical papers while I was a student—which sort of, I think, got me started on my writing career—which has continued to this day. Anyhow, these publications were the reason that I was awarded two prizes on the day of graduation, much to the consternation of most of the other students in my class who had graduated summa cud laude in medical school and wondering what this dumb guy was doing getting these awards. Well—a little background for that, too, is that the Long Island College of Medicine was in Brooklyn, and almost all of my classmates were Jewish. And I learned the lingo and I can spout a Yiddish phrase at the drop of a hat—which may have some relationship to the fact that Perry Swirsky and I got along so well. We used to exchange Yiddish aphorisms and so on. That being said—so all of my classmates—there was a Jewish quota—this is something else that is not known—during the early 19th century—in all medical schools, because the deans had their own association, and they—you may not want to record me—it's not well known, but there was a Jewish quota when I went to Long Island College of Medicine—and there were a lot of bright Jewish kids—as you can imagine—in New York City, which included Queens, Brooklyn, Manhattan, Staten Island, Bronx—and they were excluded from medical school. They would apply, be turned down, but—being the kinds of folks they were—would say, OK, well we'll go to CCNY or NYU or Queens College, and we'll get a masters degree in physiology, and they would reapply. And every member of my class at Long Island College of Medicine who was Jewish, had a long history of applying and being turned down by medical schools all over the United States. But the ones that got into my class were the ones who had the persistence and the credentials to get in. So, that put a guy like myself—from Norwich, with its very limited background—in zoology and comparative anatomy, dissecting frogs with guys who had PhDs in 25 biochemistry and so on. And, you know, it showed up. I mean, I was a struggling student all through my first two years where it's all classroom and very little clinical experience. Soon as I got into the clinical years, I was able to really play the game with all the rest of them. I could handle myself as well with patients as they could. And so, that was one of the reasons I was able to graduate. Not because of my academic record in my first two years. But—that having been said—it's important that—the senior year was the first year of something called the intern matching program. Up until that time, everybody had to have an internship if they were going to be licensed in a state in the United States. It didn't make any difference which state. They all required the fact that you had had an internship. In other words, that you had had some clinical experience. So, I listed in this first year of the matching program—a number of the hospitals that I knew in New York City—Bellevue and Roosevelt Hospital in Columbia, PNS—and the way things worked out, I had an opportunity to list one other out-of-city appointments that I would accept. And that turned out to be Mary Hitchcock Memorial Hospital in Hanover, New Hampshire. The reason I did that was that my freshman year of medical school, a fellow at my autopsy table—there were four of us who dissected the same cadaver—was a Dartmouth graduate, and he and I became close friends. We did a lot of visiting and traveling together. And he said, I'm going to take a tour of the hospitals up in northern New England. Would you like to come with me? And I did. And he and I visited the medical school at Burlington, and the one over here in Hanover. And when I—you know, I had loved being in Vermont, and the years that I had spent there—although it wasn't all salubrious, the first three years. I did love Vermont and northern New England, and the idea—and I was married at the time—of just doing something different came to mind. And I said, oh, what the hell? So, the phone rang. Dartmouth called up the Mary Hitchcock hospital and said, would you accept an appointment as a rotating intern? There will be 11 other interns in your intern class. And I said, yeah, sure. Sign me up. And that's how come I didn't go to Bellevue or Roosevelt Hospital or Brooklyn hospital—I ended up going to Hitchcock hospital. From there, I went and finished my internship, did a year in internal 26 medicine—wanted to do what I went into medicine for in the first place. Be a family doctor. An emulation of my family doctor when I was growing up. JP: Really? RC: And so, a couple of Dartmouth medical school graduates were practicing over in Northfield, and they had a place called the Green Mountain Clinic. And they were looking for an associate, and they came to Dartmouth, and they made their needs known, and we got connected. And I said, what the hell? I'm not sure I want to be an internist. I'd like to see what it's really like to practice medicine. So that's how I got connected with being in practice—general practice for three years at Northfield. And, because of my Norwich background, Ernie Harmon—who was then the president—appointed me the university surgeon. Well, I wasn't going to do any surgery at the university. But the three of us who were the doctors in the town at Green Mountain Clinic took turns taking sick call. And what we were called was—you know, in the army, when you're the doctor, you're the surgeon. You go down to see the surgeon because that's what doctors did mostly in the army. So anyhow, that's how I became the university surgeon, and it was my relationship with Ernie Harmon—which is a whole other set of stories—that led to that. Ernie was actually one of my patients for minor illnesses. He got most of his care at the VA hospital down here. But, you know, when he had a sore throat or a boil or something like that, he'd come down to the Green Mountain Clinic and be one of my patients. As was Shorty Hamilton, of course. Perley Baker. So I was well connected later on with the faculty. But that's what my connection with Dartmouth reconnected me with Norwich. And when I got to Norwich, I was amongst a lot of Norwich alums—one of which was John Mazuzan, the fellow who had the printing office where I set type for the "Guidon", and who actually printed up the "Guidon". He was the one who did the Norwich record, and it was a very minor publication, I can assure you. And he asked me if I would work with him on the Norwich record. And so, I did, and before I knew it, I was a member of the Alumni Association. Because he was, in essence—because he was the publisher of the Norwich record of the Alumni Association. There was no association. 27 So he said, you know, I'm going to appoint you the Alumni Association president. So that's how I became president of the Norwich Alumni Association. Well, that led to a slot on the board of trustee. When I finished being a trustee for five years, with Bob Hallam—another Norwich graduate -- JP: The engineer? RC: Yeah. And a very successful one. We were approached after we finished out final year by Jake Shapiro, who was a war hero in the Africa corps—was badly wounded—shot up there—but a very dedicated Norwich alumnus. And he and I got to be good friends. And he used to visit me because he was a business man with business over in Maine, and when he was traveling from wherever he was living at the time, he would always drop in at the farm where I was living. And we would have a couple drinks together, and sometimes dinner together. So Jake was a good friend. But that came later. But Jake said to Bob Hallam and myself, you know, we've been thinking as the trustees that it's so damn sad that so many guys like yourselves, who have had all the experience in the Alumni Association—you're graduates—and so on. And you go become a trustee, and there's nothing beyond that for you to be involved with Norwich about—except maybe giving money. So Jake said, how would you guys like to start some kind of organization of fellows of Norwich University, who will sort of be in the background and be a means of continuity of active alums who have done a lot for the university, who have been connected in some way. And so, Bob Hallam and I—and the then commandant of cadets—got together and we set up the Board of Fellows, and I became the first president of the Board of Fellows, and was the president for—I don't know—five or eight years—and did that. And so, I've just been connected with everybody—all the presidents and whatever—right along the line—and that, of course, explains my deep relationship—and continued relationship—with Norwich. And I doubt that the many of my peers here at Kendal have the kind of relationship with their alma mater that I've had with mine. For all the reasons that I've been talking about here. Oh, here I've run on for more --28 JP: That's fine. I have to ask. If you've got a Harmon story -- RC: I do. Well, I have a couple of Harmon stories. JP: That's fine. RC: The first was at the time I graduated from Norwich, when we came back as seniors. Of course, we were in uniform. And we were sort of mentors to the cadets. When they wanted to know what it was like in the real military—what combat was like, all that stuff. You know, they'd—we'd have a beer together up at the tavern and—you know, we got an unofficial role—but anyhow, we were in uniform. The day I graduated, Ernie Harmon was on the stage. He was not the president at the time, but I think he might have given the graduation address. "Ol' Gravel Voice" he was called, and he gave a wonderful talk. And I—you know—he was the CG of the Second Armored Division in Africa and Sicily—not sure Africa, but I know in Sicily and Italy—and then he went to the ETO, and he was involved, as I was, in the Battle of the Bulge. So we had this loose relationship. Well, walking across the stage to get my diploma, Ernie sees my Third Armored Division patch on one shoulder of my uniform, and the Constabulary patch on the other. And of course, he had been the commanding general of the Constabulary—which my division had become, as I previously accounted as the kind of occupation police force in Germany. Well, I was the troop commander of my Constabulary troop in Ulm and the discipline was a little loose in my troop. I have to admit that. It wasn't that I didn't know what was right, or what should be done. But, you know, the war was over, I was waiting to go home, and I wasn't a spit and polish guy in my troop. It ran very well, everybody was happy, no suicides or anything like that. But anyhow, who should arrive on the scene in Goering's private train—which he had commandeered after the war. It was painted with a big Constabulary signature on the side—same as on the patch on my shoulder—and out of it stepped Ernie Harmon to inspect my troop, unannounced. Well, he came up to where we were, and he found a few things he didn't like. One was that a recent recruit was standing around doing nothing in particular when Ernie thought he should be doing something in particular. He didn't care what it was, but he should be 29 doing something. Well, unfortunately, a buck sergeant—recently over from the States, not part of the combat experience—was in charge of this group of other new recruits. And this guy, this buck sergeant, was sweeping off the steps of the mess hall. And when Ernie Harmon saw a buck sergeant sweeping the steps, with privates standing around doing nothing, he exploded. And he started to chew, and he started at the bottom, and he chewed right up through the privates, through the corporals, through the sergeants, through the top sergeant, through the lieutenants, through the captain—that was me—and he said, Christie, I don't want to have anything like this happen under your command. Understand that? Yes, sir. Well, things tightened up after that, of course. Although, he never did come back. And I came home a couple of months after that. But that was my first experience—face to face—with Ernie Harmon. Which is the prelude to what happened when I picked up my diploma from his hand. He looked at my patches and gave a kind of quizzical look, and he said, "I know you, you son of a bitch." I didn't know what to do. So like I said, pass gas or wind my watch—at that point. So anyhow, I said, "Yes, sir. I remember you, too, sir." And the next thing he said—well, of course people were lined up to walk across the stage—and not many of them would have a conversation with Ernie Harmon. So anyhow, he said, Christie, are you married? And I said, "No, sir." Well, he said, "Get married and be productive!" Yes, sir. And that was—the next time I saw him, he was the president of Norwich University, and he was one of my patients. JP: Oh my gosh. He had Goering's train car? RC: Oh, yeah. He captured it—you know—we had souvenirs. That was one of his souvenirs. He had to travel all over Germany on the railroad. He needed a private car, private engine—whatever. Goering had that in spades. Beautiful train, engine, and had two cars. It was Ernie Harmon's headquarters. JP: Oh my gosh. I've never heard that story. That is priceless. RC: So, that's my Ernie Harmon story. JP: Oh, thank you. That's a good one. Anything else?30 RC: I think I've kind of run out of anecdotes. I, you know, I could come up and talk all day and all night about things that I remember that have happened. But anyhow, that is just skipping on top of some of the highlights. JP: Thank you so much. END OF AUDIO FILE

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Name $ WEAVER ORGAN AND PIANO CO., MANUFACTURERS, f | YORK, PA , U S A. | Address \v '■I-' I I II 1II Students' Headquarters —FOR— HATS, SHOES, AND GENT'S FURNISHINGS. Sole Agent for WALK -OVER SHOES ECKERT'S STORE. Prices Always Right TJie Lutheran PuWicdtioij Society No. 1424 Arch Street, PHILADELPHIA, PA. Acknowledged Headquarters for anything and everything in the way of Books for Churches, Colleges, Families and Schools, and literature for Sunday Schools. PLEASE REMEMBER That by sending your orders to us you help build up and develop one of the church in-stitutions with pecuniary ad-vantage to yourself. Address HENRY 8. BONER, Bupt, THE KA ERCURV The Literary Journal of Gettysburg College. VOL. XVII GETTYSBURG, PA., OCTOBER, 1909 No. 5 CONTENTS. ARTICLE I.—TENNYSON" CENTENARY, AUG., 1809- 1909.—Tennyson and In Memoriam 2 REV. CHARLES WILLIAM HEATHCOTE, '05, A.M., B.D. GETTING EVEN 5 E. C. STOUFFER, '11. CULTURE S G. F. POFFENBERGER, '11. NOBLE CHARACTER OUR NATIONAL SAFEGUARD. 9 PAUL S. MILLER, '10. IS THE GRANTING OF ATHLETIC SCHOLARSHIPS GOOD POLICY? 12 PAUL M. MARSHALL, '10. A COMPLETED PLAN 13 TAXIS, '09. THE WORLD IS OVER-ORGANIZED 16 ROT V. DERR, '10. WHAT IS SUCCESS? 21 E. W. HARNER, '12. OUR SYMBOL—OUR IDEAL 23 RALPH E. RUDISILL, '10. AN INDIAN SOLILOQUY 25 1911. EDITORIALS 28 BOOK REVIEWS 31 2 THE MEEOUEY ARTICLE I.—TENNYSON CENTENARY AUG. 1809-1909.- TENNYSON AND IN MEMORIAM. BY EEV. CHAELES WILLIAM HEATHCOTE, '05, A.M., B.D. |ANY problems have disturbed the human race from the very early ages. We have had men in the past history of the world, and in fact through all periods of later development and even now, asking such questions as. Does death end all ? Whence is the origin of evil ? Why do we have suffering ? Is the soul immortal ? Poets, philosophers, prophets, priests, aye in fact all humanity, have grappled and continue to grapple with these deep problems. Socrates, Plato and Aristotle were not the only ancient philoso-phers who sought to know the cause and effect of things. Thus the problem of life, death and immortality have puzzled sages. We have many poets seeking to bring to light various thoughts to explain these things. The Great Master has pointed out to us, and has revealed to us, that if we are true to God, fellowman and self, we shall inherit eternal life. He has revealed to us the con-ditions, how we may be saved, and thus receive immortality. However, with this revelation each generation is able to meet these various problems and with the spirit of truth to be able to understand them in part at least. Also where true understanding is impossible we have a faith in the Christ, which is firm and strong, for, though now we see through a glass darkly, then we shall see face to face, and we shall be known even as we are known. Thus the poets have struggled with these perplexing problems. They probably give us a better insight into the religious consci-ousness of each generation than do the theological writers. They seem to have a deeper prophetic insight into nature. Thus Mil-ton struggled with the same problems. Though his poetry is not popular, nevertheless it is classic. We find there is a deep in-sight into the problems that have confronted the human race. As Alfred Tennyson mourns the loss of his beloved friend and college mate, Arthur Henry Hallam, in the immortal poem, la Memoriam," so Milton has written "Lycidas," a poem, mourning the loss of Edward King of Christ's College. He had perished THE MBHCOKT. 3 in a shipwreck off the coast of Wales on the 10th of August, 1637. Of him Milton writes: "Weep no more woeful shepherds, weep no more, For Lycidas, your sorrow, is not dead, Sunk though it be beneath the watery flood: So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, And yet anon repairs his drooping head. And tricks his beams, and with new spangled ore, Flames in the forehead of the morning sky." Again, Thomas Gray in his beautiful poem, "The Elegy Writ-ten in a Country Church Yard, points out the tribute to the hum-ble ones who are the strength and power of a nation and who de-part from their loved ones and the world in time seems to forget them. They are deserving of the highest praise and emulation. Thus he writes: "Let not ambition mock their useful toil, Their homely joys, and destiny obscure; Nor grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and simple annals of the poor. The boast of Heraldry, the pomp of Pow'r, And all that Beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Await alike th' inevitable hour The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor yet ye proud, impute to these the fault, If memory o'er their tomb no trophiees raise, When through the long-drawn aisle and fetted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. Emerson, our own beloved poet, came face to face with the great problem of death when his son, Waldo, died January, 1842. He wrote the beautiful poem, "Threnody," about the loss of his child. As we read this poem our hearts go out in sympathy to the poet, for we feel every word of the poem vibrating, as it were, with his sorrow. , GETTYSBURG COLLEGE f I Gettysburg, Pa. 1 | - LIBRARY - § 4 THE MEKCDBY. The first part of the poem is a true picture of the poet's grief. He writes: "And, looking over the hills, I mourn The darling who shall not return." In conclusion he writes: "Silent rushes the swift Lord Through ruined systems still restored, Broad sowing, bleak and void to bless, Plants with worlds the wilderness; Waters with tears of ancient sorrow Apples of Eden ripe to-morrow. House and tenant go to ground, Lost in God, in Godhead found." Of the poem Dr. Holmes said, "It has the dignity of Lycidas without its refrigerating classicism, and with all the tenderness of Cowper's lines on the receipt of his mother's picture. Thus when Tennyson wrote "In Memoriam," great grief filled hisieart for the loss of his dear friend and college chum, Arthur Henry Hallam. Tennyson was a man of strong character, pure and noble ideals. He is a philosopher, poet, sage and prophet. His poetry though deep and classic is also popular. He has a living mes-sage for each one. His poetry comes from a deep sympathetic heart and is therefore living and true. Alfred Tennyson, the English poet-laureate, was born at Som-ersby Eectory, Lincolnshire, Aug. 6, 1809. He graduated from Trinity College, Cambridge, the same institution from which Hallam was graduated. Tennyson won the chancellor's medal in 1829 for the poem "Timbuctoo." Tennyson began to write poetry at a very early age. In 1830 appeared a volume of well written verse. In 1842 he published another volume of poems, which showed deep thought and con-templation and which won for him a high place among the Eng-lish poets. In 1847 appeared the "Princess," and in 1850 the world was THE MERCURY. given the immortal elegy, "In Memoriam." In 1855 the poem "Maud," appeared in a volume together with the "Charge of the Light Brigade," and an ode on the death of the Duke of Welling-ton, part of which reads as follows: "Lo the leader in those glorious wars Now to glorious burial slowly borne, Follow'd by the brave of other lands, He, on whom from both her open hands Lavish honor show'd all her stars, And affluent Fortune emptied all her horn. Yea, let all good things await Him who cares not to be great, But as he saves or serves the State." During the remaining years of his life he published the "Idylls of the King," "Enoch Arden," "The Northern Farmers," "Ti-resias," "Demeter" and other poems, "Akbor's Dream," "The Death of Oenone," "Queen Mary," "Harold," "Becket," "The Cup," "The Promise of May," and "The Foresters." He was raised to the peerage in 1874 on account of his ability and also as a tribute to his work. He died Oct. 6, 1892, aged 83 years, at his home Aldworth Surrey. GETTING EVEN. E. C. STOUFFEE, '11. | HEN Eoger Craig received an appointment on the re-porters' staff of the "New York Journal," all his friends and neighbors predicted a bright future for him, and at the beginning of his career it seemed as though their predictions would come true. His willingness to work, keen per-ception and native courteousness made him a favorite with every-one, and at the same time an invaluable member of the staff. The hardest work was assigned to him but he invariably accom-plished it successfully. AVhen he was sent to interview a man he 6 THE MERCURY. usually had a story for his paper. As a result one promotion fol-lowed another in such rapid succession that, any other young man they would have caused to swell up with pride, but Craig only determined to work harder and rise still higher. He had now been in the employ of the great newspaper four years and during that time had risen to the front rank as a re-porter. Occasionally during those four years a letter went from him to the old editor of the only weekly newspaper which his native New England town. boasted. These the old man pub-lished gladly and the townspeople read them eagerly. At the village store when Roger's name was mentioned and his success discussed, old men between streams of tobacco juice, used to say, "I told you that he'd git along." While Craig was getting along in this happy wajr, the morning came when the entire world was shocked by the news that our President, Win. McKinle}1, had been, perhaps, fatally wounded hy an anarchist while shaking hands with him at the Pan-Ameri-can exposition at Buffalo. Eoger heard the news and then thought a moment. A letter wouldn't reach his home town for two days and that would be too late for that week's issue of the paper. Thinking to do a kindness to the old man he sent a tele-graph dispatch to him telling him of the cowardly attempt on the President's life. The old editor was astounded. In all his life as an editor he had never received a telegram. Carefully adjusting his spectacles he read it again and again. This surely must be a mistake. It cannot be possible. Surely no one would try to take President McKinley's life. Wo one could do that. This must, therefore, be a mere joke of young Craig's. And it was plainly his duty to advise the young man against such foolishness. Accordingly two letters left his office that day. One was addressed to Craig at his rooms in New York. It contained a warning against the danger, and a little fatherly advice concerning practical jokes. "A mat-ter of the importance of his recent telegram was entirely too serious for a joke," etc. The other letter went to the managing editor of the "New York Journal" and said that a watch ought to be kept on young Craig, for he must be somewhat beside himself. Then followed a detailed account of the telegram. In the Mid-dleberg "Chronicle" there appeared a long article saying that THE MERCURY. young Craig must have suddenly lost his reason, for this week he became seized with the notion tht President McKinley was assas-sinated, and telegraphed the same to us. Of course we are very sorry for the man and sympathize deeply with him in his afflic-tion, etc. The next morning when the postman brought in the old man's mail he saw the rival newspaper of the neighboring town had its entire front page taken up by an account of the attempt on Mc- Kinley's life. The old man was dumfounded. He might doubt Craig's telegram, but he never could doubt that newspaper. He saw where his rival had beaten, whereas if he had not been so foolish the advantage might have been his. That afternoon he was kept busy cancelling subscriptions to his paper. That night a weary heavy hearted old man wrote a long letter to the young reporter. He offered profuse apologies for the treatment which had been given him and ended by saying that he never would doubt his word again no matter what news item he might send him, he would publish without for a moment questioning as to its truth. Meanwhile the two letters reached their destinations. Eogers received his with a feeling of amusement. His mental comment was merely, "Blamed old fool. He's crazier than I am." But when the managing editor read his a frown crossed his forehead. He pondered a moment and then summoned young Craig. When the young man appeared a stern-faced manager faced him. The manager motioned him to a chair and then said: "I am sorry that I must inform you that your services are no longer required by us. I have here a letter from the editor of your home paper in which he informs me that you have been sending news matters from our office. We pay enormous sums yearly to maintain private wires, so of course we cannot allow our employees to send away what we pay so dearly for." The young man's head swam. Before all looked bright to him. In a moment all was changed. A feeling of intense anger towards the old man, whose ignorance had caused his misfortune, took possession of him and a desire to get even filled his mind. He went to the nearest telegraph sta-tion and sent the following telegram to the old editor: "At last the long-standing dispute between Emperor William and Edward VII concerning the Imperial Crown has been settled. The two 8 THE MERCURY. rulers decided to fight a duel and thus decide. The weapons were automobiles run toward each other at full speed. Santos Dumont in his airship carried Edward VII, the one who was found to be the nearer alive, to Eome, where he was crowned amid loud acclamations from the people." The next morning the little weekly came out with a full page account of the affair and two days later the sheriff closed the little office forever. And so far as young Craig was concerned, the last that was heard of him he was shucking oysters in a wholesale oyster house down along the Chesapeake Bay. *£• *&• CULTURE. G. F. POFFENBERGER, '11. |UCCESS to-day demands both natural ability and cul-ture. In the past, men have risen to the summit of human achievement through their natural ability alone. But the strenuous, vigorous and active life of the pres-ent requires every contestant in the race to be fully trained.Ig-norance in responsible positions is a thing of the past. Nature often endows a man with one talent which if developed, produces a man of genius, if neglected, degenerates him into an abnormal being. Upon one man may be bestowed strong intel-lectual abilities at the expense of his physical nature; to another may be given the vigor with small attention to intelligence; many in the present age are possessed of both qualities. To equalize the gifts of nature culture should be given the office of mediator and instructor. Culture to-day is within the grasp of everyone, whether he be of high or low birth. To all the schools of the country are open; to all the colleges and universities of the land offer their oppor-tunities. Nor is self-culture less practical; for its end is the same though its means are more severe and trying. The reading of choice literature and the associations with great works of art produce an effect upon the character to be marked as the test of the fully trained mind. Critical power in litera- THE MERCUEY. » ture is a degree of cultivation rarely attained, but when attained, it places its possessor in a position almost superhuman. The perception of beauty is another test of culture. Only a small part of this earth is given over to one's needs; the whole universe however, is within the hand of the fortunate one who perceives beauty in nature. Beauty is an all-pervading presence. It unfolds itself in the myriad blossoms of the springtime; it is beneath the dark shade of the summer trees; it haunts even the depths of the earth and sea. The uncultured man looks upon all these with a hardened heart. To the man of culture it is a reve-lation of the proper course of human action not only here, but even through eternity. The greatest attribute of culture is its power not only to in-duce impressions but to produce expressions. The cultured man is an artist. Expression may be made to the world through the medium of the brush, the pen, or a higher medium still, the hu-man voice. Speech is one of our greatest distinctions from the brute, and its highest cultivation marks the highest type of man. Our power over others depends less upon the amount of thought within us, than our power to bring it out. The ages of the world have been marked by the gradually widening breach between man and beast, the physical and the spiritual. The past is behind us, we must keep up with the pres-ent only. Future years will produce still greater changes, and through the influence of culture, mental and spiritual man will attain that perception which his Creator intended for him. NOBLE CHARACTER OUR NATIONAL SAFEGUARD. PAUL S. MILLER, '10. |HEN we speak of character and its influence it is neces-sary first that we know what is meant by character. By character is meant the composite of definite moral and personal traits which serves to distinguish an indi-vidual and to mark the type to which he belongs. Therefore, 10 THE MEKCUEY. noble character is that which, in the highest sense constitutes the man. It is very evident then, that the men who fill our executive chairs must possess noble characters in order that they may be true to themselves, true to the instincts which, with our race seem to go hand in hand with freedom,—love of order and respect for law. A man to possess a noble character need not be a great man as the world classes great men, but the man who has a true, noble character, who uses his gifts rightly and does his duty in whatever station of life he is situated. One of the most important factors to be considered in the de-velopment and acquisition of a noble character, by which the moral nature must be subjected and brought under control, is the will, by which the mental faculties are directed and energized. It is through a strong will that bad habits are overcome and habits of truthfulness, honesty and obedience are established in their stead. It is through a well controlled will that self-respect, self-control and strength of character is obtained. One of the greatest forces in the world is man; and one of the most determinate and irresistible forces in man is his will. When the will collects its forces and makes a final resolution to accomplish some act it is then that man has the power on the one hand to poison the very springs of national life or on the other to become in reality the agent of God. This nation of ours stands as it is to-day because of such reso-lutions as the latter being carried out by men of strong wills and noble characters. With such powerful forces as Washington and Lincoln to guide and urge us on, it is not only right, but it is the duty of every one of us to attain the highest possible standard of noble character. It is from the young men of to-day, those who are now in the course of their education, that our future governors, senators, statesmen and presidents must be chosen. We may assume, then, that if the seed of a noble character is sown in youth we may ex-pect the rising generation to enter this world prepared to fight the battles of life, and our higher offices filled by men who will strive for the betterment of themselves and their posterity and men who may be entrusted with the government of this grand and glorious nation. TUB MEKCURY. IT If the Englishman is proud of his country, scattered as it w all over the world, so that, as he boasts, "the beat of the morning, drum encircles the earth," if the Swiss peasant loves his moun-tain heights, if the Scotchman delights in his desolate moor, and the Irishman thinks his little island of poverty the dearest spot on earth; if even the despised Chinaman dreads to die outside of his native land, what should be the devotion of Americans to this the grandest land the sun has ever shown upon, a land where hu-man happiness is so widely disseminated, where human govern-ment is so little abused, so free from oppression, so invisible, in-tangible and yet so strong. The world is asking the young American to-day what may we' expect of you when you are called upon to take the place of re-sponsibility made vacant by the deaths of those who now occupy them. Are we going to disappoint the world and make a failure of our lives? Or will we meet the demand of the times and profit by the failures and successes of our predecessors. A nation must also possess a character if it would endure; and this is obtained only through the character of the individual. When national character ceases to be upheld, a nation may be regarded as next to lost. When such a state is reached that honor and obedience are seemingly lost, the only remedy is the restoration of individual character, and if this is irrecoverably lost, all is lost. Then let us, as a rising generation, be marked with that great feature of noble character, that moral worth and intelligence that we may have the power to erect a bulwark which shall prove im-pregnable in that hour of trial, when fleets and fortifications shall be vain. If, therefore, it is in our power to preserve this precious heri-tage, let us cling to it with a patriot's love, with a scholar's en-thusiasm, and with a Christian's hope and may this grand nation which is still part of the great universe be as an ornament of a' free people and continue to be free and which God may preserve-till time shall be no more. iETTYSBURG COLLEGE Gettysburg, Pa. LIBRARY 12 THE MEHCURY. IS THE GRANTING OF ATHLETIC SCHOLARSHIPS GOOD POLICY? PAUL M. MARSHALL, '10. HE problem of the athletic scholarship confronts every college or university of prominence to-day; in most cases it is not a question of dollars and cents but a ques-tion of principle and the future welfare of the college. Whether the moral and mental side of an institution is benefitted by the presence of men that an athletic scholarship has brought to its campus is probably debated in the faculty meetings of every school. The true and original purpose of such a scholarship was to help those students athletically inclined who were financially un-able to get through college; it was intended not for the lazy, happy-go-lucky athlete that is never a credit to any college but for the earnest student whose only hope of education lies in his athletics. Such men, working hard for an education, would probably be compelled to resort to summer ball or professional sport of some kind to carry on their college work and then if they attempted to engage in school athletics there would be the cry of "professional-ism" and "impure sports." This is the man to whom an athletic scholarship is a salvation, an inspiration that will goad him on in every line of work; the duty to his college comes first, and in after life any alumnus can point to him -with pride as a fellow-graduate. He is a credit to the institution he represents. But in these attempts to aid the worthy, the bounds have been over-stepped and the college has forgotten the kind of men the athletic scholarship was designed for; an insight into the man's character is overlooked, not a thought is given to his personality;: there is but one thought and that is the athletic ability of the applicant. Credentials of good character and moral worth are not asked for; all that is needed is a recommendation from some former team-mate or coach to insure the receipt of such a scholar-ship. This man, in his few years at college, whilst he may have been instrumental in a few victories, will probably have had a demoral- THE MEECUBY. 13 izing effect on the student body; the tendency to loaf is prevalent., for he is not interested in college work and the result is that in most cases he is classed as a special student. These specials are a drag to the institution and are seldom a credit to their Alma Mater. The man who does not have graduation in view will never take the interest in his work that should be characteristic of every college man. A college is known by its alumni. Are the men who were in college the beneficiaries of athletic scholarships, fit persons to in-fluence increased attendance and bring credit upon the college? The fact that athletic prominence brings success to an institution is undisputed, but the fact carries with it the provision that only men strong in every line of work shall be allowed to represent the college. On the whole the athletic scholarship discourages study and aptitude in any phase of work other than the athletic; is is mis-used and has become rather an easy way of spending four years than an encouragement to deserving students. To the poorly en-dowed small college that must strive in every way to exist where a few such loafers may have an infinite influence on the student body, the athletic scholarship is the cause of a lowering of every standard of the school's worth. In the university the plan may not reflect on the general student life, but no matter where or what may be the school concerned, the granting of athletic scholarships is indiscreet and not in harmony with the best poli-cies of the institution. A COMPLETED PLAN. TAXIS, '09. HE directors of The Slicem Packing Co. Limited had gathered together and had been discussing the rumors relative to the investigation of their business by the government deputies. The board room was filled with. the smoke from their cigars, and a hush pervaded the chamber. Each man was thinking deeply of the approaching storm. "WelL 14 THE MERCURY. fellows, this city is too hot for me, and I am going to take a trip abroad for my health," finally declared the youngest, and most promising director. "But, Des, that'll never do. You see that will put us in a poor light and we can't afford it," apologetically said one of the others. "Oh shucks Gordon! Poor light or not, I am going abroad. Now gentlemen, you have heard my de-cision. Do as you think best; I shall do as I have just said." So saying H. G. Desmond Vanderpew abruptly left the heated room and directed his steps to his palatial home in Madison Square. Here he made all preparations for his intended trip. Soon after Vanderpew's arrival a cab was seen to stop at his door. Vanderpew descended the wide, white, highly polished marble steps, entered the waiting vehicle and gave a last glance at his father's beautiful mansion, surrounded with artistically arranged flower beds. The carriage, after a half hour's time, finally stop-ped in front of the Past Line Steamship Co. Vanderpew step-ped out, paid the cabby and, handing his suit case to the porter, crossed the gang plank. Soon he felt the movement of the great ship and he began to breathe easier. During the entire trip he remained in his state-room, partly on account of illness, but more especially that he might not encounter any of the government officers who might have decided that they likewise needed recuperation. Vander-pew consulted maps and catalogues to occupy his time. He de-liberated as to the best course to pursue. At last he decided to go to a little town in Germany by the name of Stoburg. "Here," he reasoned with himself, "I can be incognitio, free from molesta-tion, and it will be the last place that those sleuths will stick their noses." Accordingly when the ship was docked at Queenstown, he sought the next departing vessel for the continent, where he boarded a train for Leipsic. When he ultimately reached the station, night had already settled over the quiet town and many of the inhabitants had already obtained a few hours' sleep. Hav-ing refused the assistance of a cabman, Vanderpew trudged along over a well paved street in search of a hotel. Finally, after a painfully long walk he located one and going to the assigned apartment retired, weary, yet with a mind free from fear of the tieputies. THE MEKCUBr. 15 When he awoke the next morning, the sun was high in the heavens. After his necessary toilet had been performed ,he de-scended to the large room, which was used as a bar room, dining room and general parlor. Here he met the fat, cheerful, rosy-cheeked proprietor, who inquired about his welfare. "Oh, I feel fine, and I shall take advantage of this fine weather, and go walk-ing." Vanderpew strolled slowly down the street, idly looking into the shops. At last he found himself at the end of the paved street and at the beginning of a road. "I guess I'll keep right on," he murmured. So saying he stooped, picked up a stone, ex-amined it curiously, then resumed his walk. Soon he was in the midst of one of those renowned forests of Germany. The trees stood in parallel rows. The underbrush so common to American forests had been cleared away and at intervals were benches for • the comfort of the passerby. At the beginning of the forest the State Forester was directing his busy assistants to mark this or that tree which he deemed ready for the ax. After watching the operation so new to him, Vandepew resumed his walk. Gradu-ally the place became forsaken. The sun heated the aisles be-tween the tall cedar trees, while the stirring breeze prevented the heat from becoming too intense. The trees shaded the edges of the paths and the birds filled the air with their songs. In a meditative mood Vandepew strolled on and on. Suddenly he espied a girl sitting on a bench directly to his right. Her tall figure, with its broad shoulders, plump arms and gibson waist betrayed an American lineage, as also did her almond eyes and high pompadour. "Gee! what a beaut!" he muttered, "wonder if there's any wrong in a casual acquaintance. I guess she's Dutch, but I'll be darned if she doesn't look like the best Ameri-can beauty I've ever seen. Well, here goes." In the meanwhile he had approached her. He stopped, summoned courage, and then blurted out, "Sprechen sie Deuteh?" The girl raised her eyes from her book in surprise and asked, "Pardon me, but did you speak to me ?" "Er-er ye-e-s, that is to sayy—yes!" "Are you acquainted here?" he continued meekly. "Just a little," she answered, "you see I am staying at the Hotel and am out for pastime." "How miraculous! I should say how delightful! I am also a guest at the same place. How would you like to 16 THE MERCURY. have a companion in the indulgence?" "Well, I suppose that since we are both Americans, it will not matter if we don't have a formal introduction, just this once. Do you think it will ?Oh, no," he quickly answered, sliding his arm around her slender waist, "of course not." We are co-admirers of nature." "Oh well," he continued, "I shall introduce myself and you can tell me who you are and we will be over Mrs. Grundy's objections. My name is Henry Griswald Desmond Vanclerpew of New York City, twenty-five years of age, secretary of The Slicem Packing Co., millionaire, a free and accepted Mason of the thirty-second degree, Knight Templar, a lover of sports and an admirer of Kipling, et cetera, and you? "Well, Desmond, it is strange you do not remember your old sweetheart, Inda Audrey Meredith, the possessor of nineteen American summers and two German winters, the maker of your twenty odd cushions, also your old yacht mate." "Audrey! How changed! Let's do now what we had plan-ned before your trip abroad. Will you dear?" Their lips met in common consent and silence prevailed. THE WORLD IS OVER-ORGANIZED. ROT V. DERR, '10. I HE inherent meaning of the word "organization," is al-most as old as Time itself. The principles of organiza-tion form the basis of society and government. When-ever a number of people desire to establish a principle, foster an idea or promote an interest, they must first organize. Thus a system of work is laid; disorder and inequality are pre-vented; concentration of effort, and harmony prevail. But the question that concerns us for the present is, whether or not the tendency is toward too much organization. Never in the history of the world has there been so much or-ganization. This is true in Church, in State, in Industry, but especially in social and fraternal life. To be convinced of the growing tendency toward organization, we need only to look at THE MEHODIty. 17 the Church. The average modern city organization counts its organizations by the dozen. There are societies for the old, the middle-aged, the 3'oung; for the men and for the women, old and young. There are missionary organizations, temperance, social, charitable and sometimes individual organizations. That the aims and purpose of all these organizations are praiseworthy and right, is not denied. But the question is whether there is too much organization for the moral and spiritual force necessary to keep it in smooth running order. Is the machinery becoming too huge and unwieldly ? Are we going too far ? It is evident that to carry out successfully these different or-ganizations, their plans and methods of work, each one must be regulated by its system of officers, meetings and routine of work. The regime of just one organization to be executed with any de-gree of success demands a considerable outlay of time, money and energy. How can so many survive? Some must suffer. This accounts for the failure of so many organizations. Not because the aim of the society may not be worthy nor its plans commen-dable, but the expenditure of time and talent necessary to insure its success, is too much, considering the other important and more necessary organizations to which one may belong. One cause of over-organization is the attempt to execute a prin-ciple or policy that is already being enforced, only in a more general way. To be more clear, the tendency is to counteract every particular evil, or to promote every particular virtue by a corresponding organization with its whole system of work. To attack the vice, profanity, the Anti-profanity League is organized. The smoking of cigarettes is assailed by the Anti-cigarette Asso-ciation. Organizations of this nature exist without number. Certainly some of them are absolutely necessary and constitute the best way to fight a foe or promulgate a principle. They are sometimes more effective than an organization having a broad, genial scope. An example of this type would be the Anti-Saloon League, now working wonders by its sane principles and com-mon sense methods. The scope and mission of these organiza-tions vary. Let us ask the question. Is an organization justi-fiable whose purpose and aims are already covered by another greater, more inclusive and comprehensive organization? For example, does the desecration of the American Sabbath demand is THE MEKCUBT. an organization whoso purposes shall be to mitigate its abuse or to give the laborer his rest, and so on, when the State or the Church should properly regulate these matters. This is not per-haps a good concrete example, but it will suffice to illustrate the point in question. It must not be understood that organization is not essential to moral and social reform. The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals has its place; the Civic Asso-ciation for Public Improvement is certainly a good thing; Purity organizations, Peace organizations and Charity organizations— all may be productive of immense good. But it is the sub-di-visions of these ideas and principles into so many corresponding small organizations that are hurtful. The trouble is not in or-ganization but in excessive organization. Another field in which too many organizations are undouhtedly "responsible for the destruction of the real usefulness of their gen-eral principles, is that of the fraternal secret orders. These, too, like the church and reform organizations have multiplied with great rapidity in recent years. The principles of these various orders are mostly of a patriotic, fraternal, or charitable nature; their emblems are such words as these: Virtue, Liberty, Pa-triotism, Mercy, Charity or Fraternity. One especial feature of the majority of such orders, is the sickness and death benefits. This feature really forms the basis for the large membership. With some exceptions of course, there can hardly be any seri-ous charge brought against the principles of these secret orders. Here, too, the harmful results ensue from the fact that there are too many being organized. They can not compete with the in-surance companies and the already existing secret orders of an established reputation. Frequently men unite with as many as six or more of these orders. These societies like all other orga-nizations must have their regular meetings, whether weekly or monthly, to maintain interest. Evidently faithfulness in dis-charging duties and pledges necessitates neglect of other import-ant business or home relations. As a result of this complexity many a one drops out. Consequently for lack of membership and financial strength, many organizations of this type "go un-der," in common parlance. Hence there is almost absolute loss of the money paid in. This condition needs no further comment. The multiplication of secret fraternal orders without a very ., THE MERCURY. 19 strong, practical, financial basis, is bound to demonstrate the evil effects of over-organization. Tliere is an economic aspect to this problem of organization. And the disastrous effects of over-organization frequently find their causes in economic conditions. The financial side is espe-cially referred to. The carrying out of the principles of an or-ganization incurs more or less expense, depending upon its na-ture. If it is an association for moral, social or civic reform, or if a fraternal order, it must have its official newspaper organ, its corps of workers and representatives in the field. The exten-siveness of the various systems and processes of work vary. In any case the financial funds must be raised to insure the welfare and safety of the organization. Very frequently many must suffer and finally fail through lack of monetary resources. The newspapers representing church denominational interests and moral reform are constantly making strenuous appeals for in-creased subscription lists in order to maintain their existence. The demands upon the average man's poeketbook made by the innumerable organizations are great. Only the most practical, beneficial and important organizations can survive. The others eke out a miserable existence and become a parasite on society. It is pitiable to see an organization launch out with seemingly bright prospects and worthy ideals, soon to be overwhelmned by the more solid, sturdy ones already in existence. Yet this oc-curs somewhere nearly every day. Another feature of nearly all organizations is to hold conven-tions, assemblies and so forth. These may occur annually, bien-nially or in a few cases less often. It may on the surface seem of little value to refer to this fact. But the increase of all sorts of organizations has occasioned so many such gatherings that the. people at large are coming to view them with dissatisfaetiou'- Pree entertainment at even church assemblies is no longer pos-sible at many places. The demands upon good nature and hos-pitality become too excessive. This is but one phase of the man • agement of the convention prohlem. Too much needless organi-zation with its array of conventions and external manifestations, will soon find a complaining public. As stated at the outset the whole world is full of organiza-tions. It is impossible to enter detailedly into all the different I GETTYSBURG COLLEGE 1 f Gettysburg, Pa. LIBRARY 20 THE MEECUBY. fields and discuss this problem of over-organization. Thus fir I have pointed out the tendencies along certain lines and shown the evils thereof. Perhaps in other lines of activity the danger of over-organization is not yet to be feared. The organization in political life certainly cannot be ques-tioned. The safety and welfare of a nation depends largely upon the interest of the people in the government. The sub-divisions of our own country into parts ranging from the grand federal to the county, district or municipal, form the basis for the people's share in government. Let us observe conditions among the industries and professions. Every branch of industry is thoroughly organized, and has its official organs, its conventions, its officers, routine of work, and so forth—all to advance their representative interests. These include all trades and business professions, which are numbered by the hundreds. It would be useless to enumerate them. It is only by the above methods that they can further their interests. The conditions and needs of the age demand such organizations. Take for example, the great agricultural industry: possibly no industry has ever made such strides. The methods of farming are assuming a scientific coloring, through Experimental Sta-tions, State Agricultural Schools, Farmers' Institutes and other organizations. As yet organization does not seem to be produc-ing harmful results along this line of industry. And perhaps the same thing could be said of the other indus+ries and occupa-tions. In like manner the educational and professional fields are im-proving their methods of work. Jfot thus to organize and mutur ally assist each other by new plans and good ideas, would be a cause of selfishness. Hence it is not difficult to undertsand why every week has its record of assemblies of educators, medical men, and the other professions. The tendency along the educational line may perhaps need restraint, lest too many chatauquas over-flow us with methods of work and instruction, and confuse our better judgment. A similar tendency within the past few years is the idea .of reunions. Every day in the summer season is scheduled for some sort of a reunion, varying in extent from a church denominational affair to a Sunday School picnic. Again, THE MERCURT 21 we repeat, the motive and aim are right. But are we carrying the idea too far? To summarize briefly the content of our discussion, we first note that the opposition is not against organization in itself. Over-organization tends to despise rather than marshal concen-tration of effort; it is impossible to devote the required amount of time and money to many organizations, though all may be more or less worthy. Too often over-organization becomes a matter of formal externality and lacks moral or spiritual earnestness. We need but cite the methods of modern evangelism to impress this fact. In conclusion it can be said that the formation of an or-ganization whose purpose shall be to prevent the formation of useless organizations, would be hailed as a great blessing to man-kind. WHAT IS SUCCESS. E. W. HARNER, '12. UCCESS, as generally defined, means the attainment of a proposed object. In this sense the man who makes it the object of his life to win a great fortune and does so, is successful, in that, he accomplishes what he has aimed for. This too, is the worldly conception of the subject. Hence, the man who starts in business, whatever his circumstances may be when he begins, and who, amasses a great fortune, is said to be successful. The politician who reaches out into-the political world and grasps the full glory of a politician, is said to be a successful man, in that he attains that which he has had in view. The young lawyer, who is admitted to the bar and performs his duties with great skill is looked upon by the world as being successful. But what is a successful life? It is not the amassing of wealth only, nor the attainment of high position, nor yet the win-ning of fame in one form or another. Life is made up of many-interests and the reaching of no one particular goal will neces-sarilv mean success. 22 THE MERCURY. "Wealth is not always a synonym of success." Many men whom the world delights to honor, attained their lofty heights of grandeur without ever acquiring anything of wealth. The truly successful are those who have achieved the greatest good in their respective callings, whether that success has brought them riches or not. Honor and fame are not requisites to success. Many men have reached positions of wealth, of high honor and fame, and yet their lives in the true sense have been failures. "Honor and Fame, from no conditions rise, Act well your part, there, all the honor lies." What, then, is true success ? No better answer could be given than that success is the faithful performance of all the duties of life that devolve upon us. God brings every human being into the world for a purpose, and he who comes the nearest to the ful-filment of that purpose is successful, whether he dies rich or poor, occupies a high or humble position, whether his name be known or unknown to the world. The successful are those who can surmount all difficulties, who can govern their own lives and Avho can say to the devil when tempted, "Get thee behind me Sa-tan." Men of great physical strength or those who are great in battle are not always successful, but those who are the architects of their own fortunes, and whose lives are full of kind deeds and noble acts. "It calls for something more than brawn, or muscle to overcome, An enemy that marches not with banner, plume or drum, A foe forever lurking nigh in silent, stealthy tread, Forever near thy board by day, at night thy bed. All honor, then, to that brave heart, though poor or rich he be, Who struggles with his baser part who conquers and is free. He may not wear a hero's crown nor fill a hero's grave, But truth will place his name among the bravest of the brave." THE MERCURY. 23 OUR SYMBOL—OUR IDEAL. RALPH E. RUDISILL, 'lO.* N all ages the achievements of man and his aspirations have been represented in symbols. Eaces have disap-peared and no record remains of their rise or fall, but by their symbols we know their history. The mono-liths of the Assyrians and the pyramids of the Egyptians tell their stories of forgotten civilization. They teach us sad lessons of the vanity of ambition; cruelty of arbitrary power, and the miseries of mankind. The Olympian Jupiter enthroned in the Parthenon expressed in ivory and gold the awful majesty of the Greek idea of the King of the Gods; the bronze statue of Minerva on the Acropolis was a magnificent symbol of the protection of the patron Goddess of Athens to the mariners who steer their ships by her helmet and spear. But these are all dwarfs in com-parison to our symbol. Greater than the monument in St. Paul's Cathedral commemorating the victories of Wellington upon land; greater than the monuments upon this very battlefield where lay buried the shackles of nearly four millions of men. Greater than these is our symbol—the fruit of political equality, of intelligence and virtue, of private sovereignty and public duty: it is the free, true, harmonious man of America. America. Ah! what a name! To-day we stand a nation that has uprooted slavery; a nation that has crushed anarchy; a nation that has overcome bankruptcy. How we rejoice in our principles of government! How they represent to the world the best results of liberty. De-mocracy is our nation's symbol. Manhood is the symbol of our people. Manhood is the Gibraltar of our Eepublic. Manhood, that which no ancient nation has ever fostered. Walk thoughtfully, kind friends, among the nations of to-day. You are tramping upon the fallen graves of centuries. Why have they gone? They died, not of old age but from the results of injustice and wrong. They died for want of manhood. Na-tional power is nothing. Universities are nothing. Colleges are nothing without manhood. Can America be added to this long list of republics. Can she thus betray herself ? Assuredly not. 'Winner of Junior Oratorical contest. 24 THE MEKCUBY. Search the creation round and where can you find a country that represents so sublime a view as America in equality. What noble institutions! What a comprehensive policy! What a wise equalization of every political advantage! ISTo fairer prospect of success could be presented. This is a land where competition is free. This is a republic which Mammon shall not rule. This is a nation where anarchy shall not sway. Equal rights and common opportunities have been the spurs of ambition and the motors of success. The American asks for a fair field and he becomes a Eoosevelt or a Lincoln. "Our only path is duty, our lamp is truth, our goal is victory." Who, then, are the truest Americans of our country to-day? Not the man who allows the glitter of gold to blind him; not the man who stands back and sees the liberty and happiness of thou-sands of women and children sacrificed upon the altars of Mam-mon, not he who corrupts the legislature. But he who has chosen a high ideal. Our country's appeal to-day goes forth to the humblest citizen. She has thrust upon everyone the most sacred privilege that she can give to man,—the privilege of sharing in the government and guarding her welfare. She asks of him in return to live a heroic life. No victory can be lasting, no reform can be permanent, unless the citizen back of it is just and virtu-ous. For the noblest ideal we look to Him above. He it was who taught this principle of equality. Was it not He who taught that man is worth more than money. Was it not this ideal that builded the foundations of free government as broad and as deep as this continent. Was it not this that stayed the tide on this heroic field. Such must be the active ideal of the American to-day. "Eight is right—since God is God, And right the day must win. To doubt would be disloyalty, To falter, would be sin." As Antaeus in battle renewed his strength whenever he touched his Mother Earth, so shall this Eepublic live, as long as its citi-zens follow and imitate the examples of our makers of the con-stitution and the Prince of Peace. THE MERCURY. 25 Assuredly we have reason to look into the future with hope. A hope not built upon the shadow of a glorious past, but rather upon the integrity of the average American citizen. A hope built upon the principles of equality and justice. May our citizens march clown the ages with the symbol of liberty and with the Bible for their guide in morals and conduct, let them as they lead the grand procession to that land beyond where shall be the union of all mankind, exclaim: "Forever float that standard sheet, Where breathes the foevbut falls before us, With freedom's soil beneath our feet And freedom's banner streaming o'er us." AN INDIAN SOLILOQUY. 1911. T was a beautiful night, such as is seldom seen, even in the warm summer months, in the valley of the majestic Susquehanna. The sun had set over an hour ago with a clear sky and the western horizon, formed by the dis-tant mountain tops, was still a shade brighter than the rest of the heavenly dome. Not a zephyr was stirring, not even on tha bosom of the broad river, whose surface was as calm and placid as a sea of glass. One by one the stars were beginning to peep from the heavens and smile upon the drowsy earth. Far away in the east, over the top of the mountain like a great silver ball sus-pended from the lofty home of the gods, hung the moon in all her beauty, shedding upon the earth a soft mellow light. To add to the beauty of the scene, far to the north could be heard the soft rippling of the stream, as it rushed between the rocks at the falls. The water-gods seemed to be doing their best to excel all na-ture, and to the ear of the silent listener, the noise of the waters bore something of the divine in nature. Such was the scene be- 26 THE MERCURY. fore Splashing Water as he lay upon the ground, before the old wigwam. Splashing Water was the son of the chief of the Wiconisco In-dians. Long ago his father's braves had intruded upon the hunt-ing grounds of the great Susquehannas, who claimed all the land bordering upon the great river which still bears their name. The Susquehannas resented the intrusion, but Splashing Water's father, after counselling with all his warriors, decided to make good his claim with the arrow and the tomahawk. Preparations for war were made and one dark night when all was ready, the Wiconisco braves stole forth from their camp to meet the Susque-hannas in deadly conflict. Early in the morning, long before the face of the Great Spirit began to light up the eastern sky, the battle was fought. The Wiconiscos were defeated. Twenty of their braves fell by the arrows of the enemy, but by far the great-est loss to the whole tribe was that of Splashing Water. Splash-ing Water, the pride of the camp, was captured and taken far away to the great camp of the Susquehannas on the Island of the Bald Eagle. That was many moons ago and tonight as he lay before the wigwam of his guard, he pictured to himself the sight of his father's camp. "It is true," thought he, "this camp is much bigger and this tribe is much stronger than my father's, and then too, they have the Great Eiver, but still I would rather be home on the great mountain." "What are they doing at home," he wondered, "perhaps they are planning how to come and free me from these awful men." He then pictured his father's camp. There were the wigwams of the braves arranged in order around the clear, cool spring and the great trees casting their soft shadows over the ground. There were the camp-fires, just dying out and around them lay the forms of many sleeping warriors. "How fine it would be to be there," thought he. Here he glanced around and noticed that the fires of his cap-tors were also dying out. Here and there among the wigwams the form of a dusky warrior moved about, but otherwise all was quiet, responding to the beautiful night the Great Spirit had given. "A little longer," thought Splashing Water," and they will all be asleep. Then why can't I escape?" He decided to THE MERCURY. 27 wait, for he saw that his guard, who was lying near him, was be-ginning to doze. In about an hour everything was quiet. Not a moving figure could be seen, and Splashing Water decided that now was the time to make a dash for home. Cautiously raising himself, he crept to the entrance of his guard's wigwam. All was still within. He crept a few steps farther and felt about for the bow and quiver of his guard. He grasped the bow in his hand and quietly hung the quiver over his shoulder. Peering out of the entrance, he made sure that the track was clear, then slowly crept forth in the direction of the shore, stopping every few paces, and straining every nerve to hear the faintest sound of alarm. But not a sound did he hear. Finally he arrived in the clump of willow trees overhang-ing the shore, under whose protection the bark canoes of his cap-tors were moored. Quietly creeping into the nearest one he grasped a pole and gently pushed it from the shore. When the boat was far enough from shore to be controlled by the current, he lay flat on the bottom of it and allowed it to drift down stream, in order that he might not make the least noise. When he had drifted for some time, he arose to his feet, grasped the pole and pushed the frail canoe to the shore with great speed. "Good-bye to the Island of the Bald Eagle," thought Splashing Water as he leaped upon the shore and plunged forward under cover of the thick forest. He traveled all night, and at the first signs of dawn drew near to the camp of his father. Great was the rejoicing as the fires of the tribe were kindled, amid the talk and laughter of the braves and squaws, when into the camp strode the athletic form of Splashing Water, the pride of the Wiconiscos. I H E HE RC U RV Entered at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class Matter. VOL. XVII GETTYSBURG, PA., OCTOBER, 1909 No. 5 Editor in-Chief SAMUEL FAUSOLD, 'IO. Exchange Editor G. E. BOWERSOX, 'io Business Manager PAUL S. MILLER, 'IO Ass't Bus. Managers ROY R. ALLEN, 'II RUFUS N. WENRICK, 'II Assistant Editor RALPH E. RUDISILL, 'IO Associate Editors E. J. BOWMAN, 'II C. M. DAVIS, 'II Advisory Board PROF. G. F. SANDERS, A. M. PROF. P. M. BIKLE, PH. D. PROF. C. J. GRIMM, PH. D. Published each month, from October to June inclusive, by the joint literary Societies of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. Subscription price, one dollar a year in advance ; single copies 15 cents. Notice to discontinue sending THE MERCURY to any address must be ac-companied by all arrearages. Students, Professors and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Business Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. EDITORIALS. IN this, the first number of the MEBCUEY, since the opening of college, we take the opportunity of impressing upon the student body the importance of the liter-ary societies. The literary so-cieties hold out to every man at Gettysburg a golden opportunity for self-development. True it is, the class room is the place for in-tellectual training, but the liter-ary societies are a most useful adjunct for the training of a dif- THE MERCURY. ferent sort, though of no less importance, is here received. No col-lege man who cannot express his thoughts to the best possible advantage, measures up to the standard which the world sets up for him. To meet this demand for correct expression of thought is the purpose of the literary societies. For certain reasons, how-ever, during the past year, the college community has been very indifferent to literary work. The various phases of college life were emphasized to such a degree, that apparently the work of the societies was excluded and consequently literary spirit was very low. Now at the opening of the new collegiate year let us firmly resolve that this shall not be the case in the future. Let us go to work and strive to raise the standard up to its old mark. To the new men, we would say, join a literary society early in your course. We do not presume to dictate which society you should join. Each one of the societies needs you, and your so-ciety will be for you just what you help to make it. But what-ever else you do, join one of the literary societies. However, when you have joined, fall to work. No society will do you any good whatever, unless you work for it. Let us all, both old men and new, work for the glory of Phrena and Philo and strive to make this a banner year in literary work at Gettysburg. IT is a terrible thought that the "very glory of our civilization is the danger of our times." In the utilization of all the agencies of nature in every line of development, in the multiplication of the sources of wealth and prosperity, this country is unparalleled, and yet every element of progress carries with it the agencies of destruction. Along with the best of benefits march dangerous evils. For "vice and immorality sweep over this land like black clouds." Simply turn to the politicians of New York and we see them attacking the Governor, thus making it hard for young men to do right and easy for them to do wrong. After we have been launched into the world to win our way as best we can, the State takes no further action than to provide for a policeman to arrest us if we go astray. And then there is before us the saloon, pool-room and gambling den to invite us as participants. We have to but ask ourselves, how many men have fallen to such a degradation and answer by referring to Sing Sing where 30 THE MERCURY. seventy per cent, of the prisoners are college and university grad-uates. Why have such men of splendid opportunities fallen to such a state? We find it is because they have never endeavored to cultivate their morals or to strive for manliness. It seems to be the tendency of college men to be pusillanimous and discourage rather than encourage the aspirants to an exalted character, to taunt him with assertions hard for a sensitive boy to bear, as to his rusticity and state of being unsophisticated. How often does one learn too late that liberty with friends causes ruin, that in-dulgence is only to burst the restraints of the Ten Command-ments, the Golden Eule and the teachings of home. In this day of twentieth century hustle—in this CULTURE age Qj! fgygj-igh haste, culture has trouble to hold its own. Culture which means a liberal education, broad-minded-ness and refinement, is rivalled by our modern all-pervading lust for gold. Disregarding morality and final destin\r, what shall you do? Shall you spend your life in hot pursuit of the almighty dollar or seek those indefinable yet so easily recognized qualities, the sum total of which constitutes culture. This is the question so often confronting the young man just out of High School. He necessarily ponders, "Shall I take a purely technical course preparing me for one line of work or shall I take a general college course with the view of developing the all-around man. The temptation to follow the first alternative is hard to over-come. This fact is exemplified in men in the business world who are experts in their own departments of work, yet are lamentably ignorant as to all other subjects. These men do not have a true sense of values. They do not have the right perspective of life. They too often spend their whole lives in the pursuit of dollars for the dollar's sake and cannot enjoy what we call the higher things, because of lack of culture. As an illustration, these one-sided men can not enjoy music because they do not understand music. This fact fortifies the truism that a man gets out of a thing what he puts in it. TUP: MERCURY. 31 A man should be true to himself. If a man is true to himself, he will find time to develop his aesthetic and moral natures. Thus he can enjoy life in the full and besides the busy hours spent in attaining a livelihood can snatch a few moments from his busy life to enjoy nature and all her beauties. No matter what your profession will be, build upon the solid foundation of a collegiate course. This will insure knowledge, efficiency and cul-ture. DON'T forget the Bloomhardt literary prizes to be awarded next spring. These prizes will be awarded on the basis of literary merit. Get busy! Use your literary talent. Thus help your-self and immediately help us retain the high standard of the MERCURY. STUDENTS patronize our advertisers! The MERCURY adver-tisers are friends of the college and of you. Show your appre-ciation by helping them, even as they help us. A BOOK REVIEWS. HE Testing of Diana Mallory, by Mrs. Humphrey Ward. —Philo. Here is an interesting picture of English life. The authoress depicts the political and social life of England as few novelists can. We are led by easy stages to a realization of England's greatness as an empire and learn something of the domestic problems which concern her. To be sure, a love tale is the binding thread of the story. Diana Mallory is a true heroine. We love her from start to finish— sympathize with her in her troubles and rejoice with her in her joys. The other characters of the story are representative of every phase of English life. The Englishman in his favorite past-time—hunting—is seen hot on the chase and the parliamen-tarian playing with might and main the uncertain but always in- 32 THE MERCURY. teresting game of politics engages our rapt attention. Incident-ally we are given a picture of beautiful Italy and interesting glimpses of India and other parts of the world are obtained. The Diva's Ruby, by P. Marion Crawford. . Philo-—is a narra-tion of the winning of Diva, an English primadonna, by Win. Van Torp, an American cowboy millionaire. The scene is laid chiefly upon the continent and in London. However we are first introduced to a little Tartar city in Central Asia from which comes the ruby which gives the book its title. The book portrays the moving of that master passion, love, showing the terrible con-flict which takes place in the hearts of both men and women, the conflict between true love and the obligations of honor. The characters are of a high type except where the oriental thirst for revenge betrays itself in the person of Baraka. The plot is com-plex in that it centers about three characters instead of the or-dinary one or two. The style is clear but retarded by unimport-ant details. Moreover the language used by the various charac-ters is not altogether in harmony with themselves as the writer portrays them. We find very little difference between the con-versation of the learned Greek scholar, Logotheti, and the rough, uncultured American financier, Van Torp. All things consid-ered, it deserves to stand among the modern works of fiction. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. I•N this Drama of Tour Year's Course, Play your part without dad's horse ; This to do is up to you With just a little tact between each yearly act, In some domain take a stroll And sell ALUMINUM for next year's Role (roll). Every summer hundreds of students raake BIG MONEY selling Aluminum Cooking Uteusils. For particulars address LOUIS HETZEL, Gettysburg College, GETTVSBURB, PA. THE STEWART & STEEN CO., COLLEGE ENGRAVERS, 1024 Arch Street, PHILADELPHIA. MAKERS OF INVITATIONS, PROGRAMS, MENUS, VISITING CARDS, DANCE CARDS, MONOGRAMS, CLASS AND FRATERNITY STATIONERY. P. S. MILLER, 'TO, Representative, Who has a full line of samples. kl^H, EDUCATION The times an 1 the Schools demand that the best things shall be done and in the best manner. Watermans@)FountamPen accomplishes everything that can be required of a good writing in-strument. Made to last for years of service and give its owner the satisfaction which comes with owning "the best." W From all dealers. The Globe trade-mark is our guarantee *~—^-^ school SI. Bo.lon 209 Sl.lc Si ChU."> Q V 742 Morkel Si-. San Franci*co. 1.10 5t. Jemci Si. Montreal 12 Cold«n L*n«. London GR. do Hono^-e Paris PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. FUfJJVTTU^E Mattresses, Bed Springs, Iron Beds, Picture Frames, Repair Work done promptly. Under-taking a specialty. - Telephone No. 97. H. B. BENDER. 37 Baltimore Street, Gettysburg, Pa EDGAR C. TAWNEY BAKER West Middle Street. J. B. WINEMAN, DEALER IN CHOICE FAMILY GROCERIES, PROVISIONS AND FRUITS, BOARDING CLUBS A SPECIALTY. L. WEIGAND, DEALER IN FRESH AND CURED MEATS OF ALL KINDS-Boarding Clubs a Specialty. Sou^p's f^estaupant, No. 7 Chambersburg Street. J PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. EMIL ZOTHE, College Emblems, Engraver, Designer and Manufacturing Jeweler, 722 Chestnut St, Philadelphia. Specialties: Masonic Marks, Society Badges, College Buttons, Pins, Scarf Pins, Stick Pins and Athletic Prizes. All Goods ordered through G. F. Kieffer. Charles S. Mumper, DEADER IN FURNITURE, PICTURE FRAMES OF ALL SORTS REPAIR WORK DONE PROMPTLY I will also BUY or EXCHANGE any SECOND-HAND FURNITURE No. 4 Chambersburg street, Gettysburg, Pa. OHLER BRO.'S RESTAURANT, First National Bank Bld'g. The place to eat the best Ice Cream. QUICK LUNCH and Oysters in season. D. J. Swartz, DEALER IN COUNTRY PRODUCE, GROCERIES, CIGARS AND TOBACCO. GETTYSBURG. J. i MUMPER Your Photographer, If not, why not? 41 Baltimore St., Gettysburg. FLEMMING X BAIR'S LIVERY, Baltimore Street, First Square, Gettysburg-, Pa. Competent Guides for all parts of the Battlefield. Arrange-ments by telegram or letter. Lock Bock 257. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. WINDSOR HOTEL, W. T. BEDBAKEE, Manager. Midway between Broad St. Station and Beading Terminal on Filbert St. A convenient and homelike place to stay while in the city shopping. An excellent restaurant where good service combines with low prices. BOOMS $1.00 PEE DAY AND UP. The only moderate priced hotel of reputation and consequence in PHILADELPHIA. The Modern Steam Laundry . . OF YORK . . Offers the COLLEGE STUDENTS first-class work at Special Low Prices. E. C. STOUPFER, Local Agt. C. D. SMITH, Prop. The Baltimore Medical College Preliminary Fall Course begins September ist. Regular Winter Course begins September 20th. Liberal teaching facilities ; Modern college buildings ; Comfortable lecture hall and amphitheatres ; Large and complete equipped laboratories; Capacious hospital and dispensary; Lying-in department for teaching clinical obstetrics ; Large clinics. Send for catalogue. Address DAVID STREETT, M. D., Dean, N. E. Cor. Madison St., and Linden Ave., Baltimore, Md. COMPILER IMPRINT ON JOB WORK MEANS TASTY WORK CAREFULLY DONE. MENU CARDS WINDOW POSTERS LETTER HEADS ENVELOPES DANCE CARDS TICKETS Programs of all kinds. Everything the College Man wants in Paper and Ink. Specially designed work. Latest Effects in Paper, done in Colors along lines of College Men's Associations. Catalog and Book work. The Gettysbutg Compiler will keep old and new students in touch with town and college life.

The Mercury December, 1908 HEEP THOSE WHO HEEP US. The Intercollegiate Bureau of Academic Costume. Cotrell & Leonard, ALBANY, N. Y. 2**£™°I CAPS AND GOWNS TII Gettysburg College. Lafayette, Lchigh. Dickinson, State College, Univ. of Penn s> Ivani i. Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Wellesley, Bryn Mawr and the others. Class Contracts a Specialty. Correct Hoods _»»■ Degrees. The College Man's Opportunity. We offer the Surest Means of finding your right place. Hundreds of good positions open in business, in teaching and in technical work. Offices in 12 cities. Write us to-day. TUB JYMTJOJVJZ, OB»^JVIZJlTIOJV Of BXAIJV BHOXBJtS. Commonwealth Trust Building, Philadelphia, Pa. HOTEL GETTYSBURG, Headquarters for BANQUETS. Electric Lights, Steam Heat, All Conveniences. Free Bus to and from station. Convenient for Commencement Visitors. BATES $2.00 PEB DAY. £iver-y Cttad-ied. Jotin P. M^tifl- Proprietor. DEALERS IN All kinds of Fresh and Smoked Meats Chambersburg St., Gettysburg, Pa. WE RECOMMEND THESE FIRMS. Established 1867 by Allen Walton. ALLEN K. WALTON, Pres. and Treas. ROBT. J. WALTON, Supt. Hummelstown Brown Stone Company, QUARRYMEN and Manufacturers of BUILDING STONE, SAWED FLAGGING and TILE. WalioTwille, 33a.-LiprT.-Ln. -&o., Pa,. CONTRACTORS FOR ALL KINDS OF CUT STONE WORK. Telegrapn and Express Address, Brownstone, Pa. Parties visit-ing quarries will leave cars at Brownstone Station on the P. & R. R. R. For Artistic Photographs Go To TIPTOJV The Leader in PHOTO FASHIONS Frames and Passapartouts Made to Order. PATRONISE OUR ADVERTISERS Come and Have a Good Shave or Hair Cut —AT— Harry B. Sefton's BARBER SHOP. 35 Baltimore St. Barber's Supplies a Specialty. Also choice line of Cigars. SHOES REPAIRED -BY-Charles Hartdagen, Middle St., Opp. Court House, GUARANTEE ALL WORK. GETTYSBURG DEPARTMENT STOKE. Successors to the L. M. Alleman Hardware Co., Manufacturer's Agent and Jobber of HARDWARE, OILS, PAINTS AND QUEENSWARE, GETTYSBURG, PA. Vke only Jobbing House in Adams County. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. 2 * * » | Seligniqi] I * % 1 ^ B^etim | !t ** 2 Are Gettysburg's Most * * * aV * « v. « «» V* t- * * * * -3 Reliable TAILORS #»»**###*#**#*****»*** PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. i^l^^^^i^^^^^^i^i^^i^^r'i^M^l^.y^yi^-^i^^i^: as ;!. .1.1I ■>!•■ II IIfI Essentially the instruments for criti-cal and discriminating- buyers. Super-ior in every detail of construction and superb instruments for the production of a great Variety of musical effects and the finest shades of expression. Close Prices. Easy Terms. Old Instruments Exchanged. WEAVER ORGAN AND PIANO CO., MANUFACTURERS, YORK, PA , U S A. \&i^iAtt%zi&Zfc5%'i$te*&*&M$',?¥:&& s Headquarters —FOR-HATS, SHOES, A*TD GENT'S FURNISHING. Sole Agent lor WALK-OVER SHOE EGBERT'S STORE. Prices Always Right Itje Lutheran Mlieirtloji Society No 1424 Arch Street, PHILADELPHIA, PA Acknowledged Headquarters for anything and everything in the way of Books for Churches, Colleges, Families and Schools, and literature for Sunday Schools. PLEASE REMEMBER That by sending your orders to us you help build up and develop one of the church in-stitutions with pecuniary ad-vantage to yourself. Address HENRY 8. BONER, Supt, THE KAERCURV The Literary Journal of Gettysburg College. VOL. XVI GETTYSBURG, PA., DECEMBER, 1908 No. 7 CONTENTS. A CHRISTMAS POEM 2 E. J. BOWMAN, '11. JUSTIFICATION OP THE BOYCOTT 3 E. E. SNTDER, '09. CONSTITUTION OP THE KEYSTONE DEBATING LEAGUE 7 IS THE GOVERNMENT COSTING US TOO MUCH?. 9 P. S. DENGLER, '09. OUR LITERARY SOCIETIES II.—PHRENA 11 WHY IS GETTYSBURG NOT WEALTHY? 13 ST. G. PHILLIPY, '09. THE JUNIOR "PROM" SOCIALLY CONSIDERED. .15 BIOGRAPHY OF SCHILLER 17 MISS BAUSCH, '11. CULTURE'S DISTRESSING FOE 20 G. E. WOLF, '09. THE ECONOMIC ASPECTS OF THE LINCOLN ROAD.22 G. L. KIEFFER, '09. THE "INDIAN STEPS." 23 E. C. STOUFFER, '11. THE INVESTIGATION OF THE FARMER; WHAT IS IT LIKELY TO BE WORTH? 25 MISS HELEN H. BRENNEMAN, '08. EDITORIALS 27 BOOK REVIEWS 29 EXCHANGES 30 THE MERCURY A CHRISTMAS POEM. E. J. BOWMAN, '11. .Behold the earth in solemn stillness lies! Again, his course traversed, the king of day Has sunk beneath the distant mountain tops. No longer glows in radiance the sky, But silent night enshrouds the wearied earth. No sound of man or beast comes forth to break The charm that over all has cast its spell. And far above from out the folds of heaven's Aetherial dome, the stars innumerable and Sublime are smiling on the earth below. All nature bows her head in reverence, thus- The God of Peace to laud and magnify. 'Twas such a night when from far Eastern lands, O'er mountains high, through valleys deep, Wise Men? Their way were tracing, guided by a star Outshining all the innumerable host That spangled all the heaven's majestic dome- When lo o'er Judah's city, Bethlehem, It stopped, and there, within a lowly hut, Behold, asleep within a manger lay The Holy One, the Buler of the Wise, By seers announced and prophets long before- 'Twas such a night when on the rolling hills O'erlooking David's City, Bethlehem, The humble shepherds, holy and devout, Their flocks were guarding from the hostile foe That roamed o'er hill and plain in quest of prey- When lo, the glory of the living God Around them shown, and, standing in their midst They saw the form of One divine in robe Of heavenly light, and in a tender voice The Messenger addressed the shepherds thus: "Fear not, I bring you tidings of great joy, THE MERCURY. To you, I bring them and to all mankind: In yonder Bethlehem is born this day A child, who is your Saviour and your Lord." Then while the shepherds filled with awe, o'er this Mysterious scene were meditating deep, Their gaze beheld a heavenly host in robes Of shining white around the Messenger Of love. Then forth upon the hallowed night The mellow strains of heavenly music broke, And there alone by God's own chosen few "Was heard the anthem of the Christmas-tide: "To God on high be glory evermore And upon earth goodwill and peace to men." JUSTIFICATION OF THE BOYCOTT. E. E. SNYDER, '09. JHE justification of the boycott is by no means an easy task. Its practice and its underlying principle have always been questioned and in view of the advanced and radical ground taken by both its advocates and its opponents, a careful study of the boycott, its history, its develop-ment, its modern forms, and its ultimate object, is necessary to enable us to pass judgment upon it, either favorable or unfavor-able. The term originated in 1880 when Captain Boycott, an Eng-lishman, who was the agent of Lord Barne in the Connemara district of Ireland, became so obnoxious because of his harsh treatment of the tenants, that they retaliated by inducing the people for miles around to have nothing whatever to do with him. They would neither speak to him, work for him; buy from him, sell to him, or in any way connect themselves with him. More than this they resorted to violence and even blood-shed, to prevent others from doing so. But this was not the ori-gin of the practice although it gave rise to the term. The prac- 4 THE MERCURY. tice extends almost as far back as history itself. In 1327 the citizens of Canterbury, England, boycotted the monks of Christ's Church. They refused to inhabit the houses of the prior, and passed an ordinance that no one should buy, sell, or exchange drink or victuals with the monastery. A severe punishment was provided against the disobedience of the order. The first use of the boycott in America was during the period just preceding the Eevolution, when the colonists boycotted several articles of British make. This culminated in the Boston Tea Part}', which was advocated and supported by our best and most patriotic citizens. Thus the advocates of the boycott claim that it was born in the cradle of American liberty. It was a great weapon, used by the Abolutionists against slavery, and it has often been used by ministers and others prominent in the social world against intemperance, immorality and other social evils. It has been used by the Manufacturer's Association against the work-ingmen, but here it is known as the "black list," and in this form it has ruined thousands of poor laborers. It has also been used by the laborers, in retaliation against the capitalists and it is this use which represents what we today recognize as the boy-cott. Thus from its history we might define boycott in its original usage, as meaning a combination of many to cause loss to one person by refusing to have any relations with him and by influ-encing and coercing others to treat him in like manner. In re-taliation for some wrong either real or imaginary, they withdraw from the victim all beneficial intercourse and even resort to force, in order to persuade others to do likewise. Today the term boy-cott means a combination of many usually organized working-men against an individual or a combination, through which they seek by withdrawing their support and services to secure redress for some infringement upon their rights. It,is this use that we would attempt to justify. The boycott, as has been mentioned, is but another name for the "black list," although it is usually practiced with a nobler end in view. The boycott usually seeks redress for wrongs, while the "black list" disregards the justice of its object and seeks only additional advantages by this coercive means. Yet the capital-ists raise a great cry of injustice when the boycott appears,, and shall be defined by the college that submits the question. THE MERCURY. lose no time in making their appeal to the courts for injunction and protection, although they are daily and yearly practicing the same principle against the laborer who can seek justice through no other means. But in this case it is the poor man's ox, that is gored instead of the rich man's, and if he would resist or seek redress, he is pointed out as dangerously affected by socialistic principles, and often suffers for trying to maintain a right guar-anteed to all by our Constitution. In practice, also, the boycott has changed, and few of the ob-noxious and injurious characteristics of the ancient boycott re-main. The boycott, as practiced at present, as has been stated, is simply the ostracism of an individual or organization, by an organization in order to secure, what they believe to be their rights. It may result in great pecuniary loss to the victim and because of this fact has often been restrained by injunction, but ■no violence attaches to it; no personal harm or injury, and in many cases individual bitterness has been eliminated. No force or coercion is used outside the obligations of membership in the contending organization, although, this fact is often changed, .and it is true that many organizations do take up the fight in sympathy. It is, when rightly used, but an effective weapon in the hands of the laborer by the use of which he is able to secure consideration and justice, when other means have failed, and as such its use is justifiable. From the laborer's standpoint its use possesses considerable economic importance, for it is only by its use, through the me-dium of his organization that he can battle, with any degree of success against the oftimes higher intelligence and more perfect organization of his employers, the capitalists. In this age, the tendency of each class, seems to be to gain wealth regardless of the loss, they may occasion. To the laborers, the boycott, is one of the few barriers that stand between him and a lower standard of living, which would be the inevitable result, were these barriers removed. Our eco-nomic welfare depends upon progress in every class. If the laborer is to share this progress he must advance and not recede. He must raise his standard of living, his culture and his edu- •cation instead of lowering them. To do this he must be in con-tinual conflict with the capitalist, who is his superior in educa- THE MERCURY. tion, and had an additional advantage because of his capital. The boycott has proved to be one of the few things which the •capitalists have not been able to overcome, and as its use enables the laborers to maintain his ground in the conflict for advance-ment, it is certainly justifiable. The boycott can also be regarded, as simply the practice of the right guaranteed to each citizen by our government, to say, write, or publish, anything he wishes, on his own responsibility. This is what the laborer claims for the boycott. He certainly has the right to govern his own words and dealings and to use his influence with others so long as he advocates a just cause and uses no coercive measures to secure adherents. This represents the workingman's idea of the boycott, and while it must be ad-mitted that it is here pictured in its most favorable form, and •that it is seldom practiced within the prescribed limits, yet the argument is founded upon a basis of justice and many decisions of higher courts have recognized this fact. As a last claim, we would advance the boycott, as the only ef-fective weapon against the "black list." No man has a right to work permanent ruin to another because of individual difference of opinion nor has an organization a similar right, and since the employer often uses this means against the employee, the laborer has a right to defend himself by the boycott. It is a hard and bitter solution to the problem. It is the Old Testament dispen-sation, "An eye for an eye." but when we consider that the con- 'ditions, from an ethical standpoint are far from normal, we must be satisfied if they do require abnormal means. Thus would we justify the boycott, from an economical view-point, but when we turn on our question the light of an ethical culture, we find it again questionable and we are compelled to ask ourselves the question, "Is there in the business activity of today, as represented by the masses on both sides, a point where ;an individual can retain pure ethical ideals and secure true eco-nomic good?" Perhaps in the masses there is not, but it is pleasing to note that here and there in the great business hustle of our age, we see sturdy advocates of a higher principle emerg-ing from the ranks of both contestants and when these shall have gained a majority the justification of the boycott will be impos-sible, but not until then. THE MERCURY. 7 CONSTITUTION OF THE KEYSTONE DEBATING LEAGUE. ARTICLE I. NAME AND MEMBERSHIP. This organization shall be known as the Keystone Inter-Colle-giate Debating League and shall have the following members: Bueknell, Lafayette and Gettysburg Colleges. ARTICLE II. PURPOSE. The purpose of this organization shall be to increase interest in debating in each of the colleges represented and to encourage inter-collegiate debating. ARTICLE III. ORGANIZATION. The executive committee shall consist of one undergraduate from each college represented and shall meet annually at the time and place of the final debate to transact all business of the League. ARTICLE IV. CONTESTANTS. Each college shall send to the contest in which it participates three representatives. Contestants shall be regularly enrolled students in the collegiate department taking at least ten hours of recitation or lecture work per week. The names of the de-baters and alternate shall be submitted to the opposing team at least ten days before the debate. No college shall protest the-eligibility of a debater later than five days before the debate. ARTICLE V. SELECTION OF QUESTION. The question for debate shall be submitted not later than six weeks and returned not later than five weeks before the debate is to be held. The college that receives the question shall select sides. No college shall submit the question to the other college twice in succession. Terms in the question, if not understood. THE MERCURY. ARTICLE VI. JUDGES. The college at which the debate is held shall submit to the visiting team at least four weeks before the debate the names of prospective judges. The visiting team may strike from the list any of "the names and shall return the remainder within one week designating the order of preference. No personal friend of any contestant and no one having had student of official relations with either of the colleges involved, shall be eligible for appoint-ment as judges. At the close of the contest, without conference-with his associates, each of the three judges, deciding for him-self, shall give his vote duly signed and sealed to the presiding officer who shall announce the decision. The judges shall base their decision on argument and composition and delivery; argu-ment to count sixty per cent., composition and delivery forty per cent. ARTICLE VII. CONTEST. The college at which the debate is held shall select the presid-ing officer. Each debater shall have fifteen minutes; ten min-utes for his opening speech and five minutes for rebuttal. The first speech in rebuttal shall be made by the negative, and the-affirmative shall close the debate. The order of speakers in re-buttal shall be left to the discretion of the respective teams. No> new material shall be introduced in rebuttal speeches. ARTICLE VIII. EXPENSES. At the annual meeting of the Executive Committee, each col-lege shall present an itemized statement of its expenses necessary for the year. This expense shall be born equally by the colleges-of the League. TIIE MERCURY. IS THE GOVERNMENT COSTING US TOO MUCH. F. S. DEX3LER, '09. F wo except the most active period of the Civil War, the total drafts upon the Treasury of the U. S. during the past Congresshavebeengreater than at any period in our history. The total appropriations made by Congress dur-ing the Civil War were $1,309,000,000 of which $1,030,000,000 was spent upon the army. The appropriations for the fiscal year 1909 reached a total of $1,007,000,000. In these days, when private fortunes sometimes run up to a hundred million dollars we are liable not to realize how large a sum a billion dol-lars really is. It would take an expert counter, working eight hours a day, over one hundred years to count a billion silver ■dollars. A billion dollars in twenty dollar bills would make a pile 13,750 feet high. What is all this money used for? The expenditures may be classed under three general heads: Postal Service, $225,000,000. Military Service, $500,000,000. Other Government Service, $225,000,000. The largest appropriation for a single department was that for the post office. The postal service is one of the greatest utilities which the government gives to the people and one which the peo-ple can appreciate every day. The post offices scattered all over the land turn into the postal department a large revenue each year but it is not sufficient to run the service. The quarter of a billion dollars is disbursed through many channels. The sal-aries of postmasters, clerks, carriers and messengers total in the millions. The railroads come in for a large amount for carrying the mail. The rural delivery was established in recent years at a cost of about $25,000,000. A bill was proposed at the last Congress to establish a rural parcels post, but it was not passed. The most significant feature of the appropriations during the year is the great amount of attention that has been given to the building up of the military branch of the government. The ex-penditures for the army and navy, if we leave out of account the years when the country was engaged in war, have been the larg-est in the history of the country. The army was granted $95,- 10 THE MERCURY. 000,000; the navy, $123,000,000; the amount $163,000,000 for pensions should be included. The remainder of the half billion dollars is spent for fortifications, military and naval academies, soldiers' homes, arsenals, armories,'navy yards and numerous other things of a similar nature. The total expenditures for military purposes, direct or indirect, is truly a colossal sum when we bear in mind that our standing army today is not over 70,000. The sending of our fleet around the world is an event in history—an event which cannot fail to have a good influence. While we may be a peaceful nation, it will show that we have strength enough to protect ourselves in time of trouble. Some people think that our navy is too large. They say that our ships have nothing to do and then they get into trouble as in the cap-turing of the Philippine Islands. The remaining quarter of a billion dollars goes for a great number of things. The Agricultural Department, the Diplo-matic and Consular service, the Indian Bill, the different bu-reaus and public works are all included. We have seen where the money goes. Now, where does it come from? The revenues of the government amount to about $800,000,000 and this will leave a deficit of about $200,000,000. The treasury has a surplus of $250,000,000 to meet this. If this is not sufficient bonds can be sold. The Speaker of the House and the House itself keep restrain-ing hands on the extravagant tendencies of the varioifs commit-tees. The tendency of Congress to spend money is increasing at an appalling rate. The money appropriated by last Congress would have run the government during the decade ending 1896. These periods are both far enough removed from the Spanish War not to be materially affected by it. The world has advanced and moved forward since 1896, but not to such an extent as to warrant the rate of increase of running the government. There seems to be a leakage somewhere. Congress should remember that even a million dollars does not flow into the treasury of its own accord but it is pushed in and that as a result of the sweat of many brows. This does not mean that a narrow-minded policy should be adopted. The American people are willing to pay well to keep their country in the front ranks of the army of THE MEKCUEY. 11 progress. The last Congress has made a record in appropriating, public money and it is up to Congress to make a record in the-spending of it. OUR LITERARY SOCIETIES II—PHRENA. N the account of Philo which was published last month we find much that is very similar to the history of" Phrena The Phrenakosmian Literary Society was founded Feb. 4th, 1831, in Linwood Hall. At the second regular meet-ing a constitution and by-laws were presented and adopted. We are fortunate in having the original copy in an excellent state of preservation. Although frequently modified and amended, this historic document retains its original and noble spirit. The whole aim of its authors and zealous defenders is admirably ex-pressed by this, the motto of the Society: Kocr/m T/iv peva. There also exists the minutes of all the meetings that have been held since the Society was organized. These also have been well cared for and may be found among the treasures of the li-brary. As for Phrena's library, it can be said that it contains 5,845 volumes, which are the results of the energetic exertions of our members. Various catalogues of these books have been made for the use of our members, but most of them are not suitable for reference work. The Society is now indebted to George Heintz. '09 for a complete card index of the library. This not only en-hances the value of the present, collection of books but insures to us the proper recognition, care, and usefulness of any works we may add. Other property of value has accrued to the Society. In 1837r when Phrena was given a large and convenient room in the new college building (Old Dorm.), efforts were immediately made to secure suitable furniture. Here again the characteristic as-siduity of Phrena's members was triumphant. Improvements have been made from year to year, and the present beautiful ap-pearance of our hall furnishes sufficient evidence of the energy 12 THE MERCURY. as well as the taste of those by whom it was accomplished. The-present apartment in Eecitation Hall is elegantly furnished. Busts of Franklin, Webster, Cicero and Demosthenes have appro-priate places on the walls. The walls are also decorated with portraits of those Phrenakosmians who have done honor to their Alma Mater by becoming capable to hold professorships in our college. The Society has helped men individually, and has contributed much to the health of college spirit. A literary contest in which much spirit is shown, is held each year, with our sister society, Philo. Formerly it was the custom of the two societies to join at commencement time and be addressed by an honorary mem-ber of each society, alternately. In earlier years, of those be-longing to Phrena, and Eev. E. J. Breckenridge, D.D. officiated in 1842, Eev. T. H. Stockton, D.D. in 1844, and Eev. George B. Cheener, D.D. Much time and labor could be spent in arranging the inter-esting events of Phrena's history, but the space on these pages-does not permit the presentation in detail of very much con-tained in the Society's records. Suffice it to say, the work of those who have gone before should be gratifying to us as presag-ing that like privileges and honors are in store for their succes-sors. With the same noble aspirations and unalterable determi-nation let us be true to our literary societies as were those who have gained so much by supporting them. At present, Phrena is wide awake, doing excellent work and living true to the spirit of her fathers. THE MEECUEY. 13 WHY IS GETTYSBURG NOT WEALTHY ? N. G. PHILLIPY, '09. N" treating this question we will consider the people as a whole, taking as broad a view as possible under the cir-cumstances. According to Webster, wealth means large possessions, opulence, riches. Of course we could not compare Gettysburg with a large city and expect the same amount of wealth, but should more properly compare it with smaller towns of its own size. One of the foremost reasons why Gettysburg is not wealthy is the lack of industries conducted on a large scale. We find no shops or anything of a like nature whereby the owners or entre-preneur can amass a fortune. The ordinary workman cannot collect a fortune as nearly all his wages are used to support his: family. As a rule where there are no large enterprises located we find little wealth. It is true the location of the town geo-graphically may be accountable for the lack of industries, but this does not demand consideration under the present question. The lack of employment for men accounts for the slow in-crease in population. An increase in the value of land and property depends largely upon an increase in population and as the values of each remain nearly the same from year to year, speculation and investments in this line are unprofitable and unremunerative in Gettysburg. The country surrounding the town is not so very fertile and agriculture is not as productive as we find in many other locali-ties. Very few agricultural products are put on the market by the farmers near the town in any great quantity. We do not find minerals profitable for mining in the neighboring localities so very little shipping is carried on. 'Eailroads depend on freight for their profits and when there is little transportation railroad facilities are usually poor. Being located inland the people have not the opportunity to carry on markets or any other pursuit which water affords. The people themselves, have a great influence on any town. If we make a careful study of the people and their pursuits we have partly, at least, the solution of our problem. In our study 14 THE MERCURY. we must take into account their likes and dislikes, their desires,, their ambitions and their doings. The people as a whole are of a retiring nature. There seems: to be little greed for money and little ambition to amass a great, fortune. Each individual is actuated by a desire to live com-, fortably and save enough to keep himself and family during old age. Judging from appearances everybody is contented and happy, a condition which is proof of the statement that the de-sire for riches is lacking. We find the population as a body, industrious, being em-ployed at different occupations. An unusual number are en-gaged in educational work who labor more for knowledge and the pleasure afforded thereby, than for the money received for their work. It is natural in a college town to have cultured people. Peo-ple of culture and refinement have their surroundings fashioned after their ideas and influence the whole community. This class has certainly added much to the community. The battlefield also attracts many well-to-do people who come here to. live a retired life and to enjoy the beautiful surroundings. In Gettysburg, if a man is not engaged in educational work, he is in sympathy with it and usually formulates his opinions accord-ingly. In conclusion, the people are interested in their personal welfare, mentally as well as physically, and do not have the de-. sire for great wealth as their sole ambition. THE JIEUCURY. 15 THE JUNIOR "PROM" SOCIALLY CONSIDERED. CLL consideration of the social significance of the Junior Prom naturally involves a taking into account the general social life of the college community. For it is obvious that the character and tone of this annual function must, to a large extent, be determined by the social life as it is developed throughout the year. And since the Junior Prom is just in its infancy,—in its formative period,—this pa-per shall be both critical and suggestive. The social life of our college seems to be the characteristic so-cial life of colleges in general. It is very different from the so-cial life that existed in earlier years of the college. New condi-tions in the social structure at large, together with the increased number of students, have all contributed to the existent social status in the college community. The present exclusive tenden-cies in modern family life, unknown to our forefathers, cannot fail to produce like tendencies among a body of students; the social product developed in our college is, in short, but an out-growth of the existing trend of home life. Though the number of students in any one college is really small, when compared with the number enrolled in a modern university, yet it has grown so that no longer can the authorities of even the small college boast that theirs is the privilege of easily acting in loco parentis, and of forming with the student body a well regulated family. Instead of one united family, thoroughly democratic in its workings and with a reasonably common purpose and as-piration, the student body has been organized by the fraternity into many little families, each with its distinctive membership making of paramount importance the promotion of its own inter-ests and those of its individual members. The college authori-ties have, in other words, failed to meet new conditions by their failure to provide a sane and invigorating college family atmos-phere for the student to grow in, and it should not be surprising, therefore, that the students have themselves provided their own substitute, inferior though it may be. The fraternity is not lacking in provsions for the diversion of 16 THE MERCURY. its members. Numerous social events are held during the year, and occasionally an inter-fraternity function is arranged. Be-tween the members of this organized portion of the student body, who are thus frequently brought together, there naturally is formed a rather strong attachment. But how about the unorga-nized portion, which is comprised, for any one of several reasons, of the men whom the fraternity has not attracted? The social opportunities of most of these men are not only more limited, they are also more individualistic. That there should be a cer-tain divergence, therefore, between the fraternity and non-fra-ternity element is not to be wondered at. The Junior Prom is a step in the direction of preventing this divergence. Every element in the student body is to be repre-sented as far as possible on a common basis. The possibilities of general good fellowship are on this occasion to be fully pre-sented and fostered. Men who are seldom to be found in com-pany of their fellows in a purely social way are to find in the Junior Prom an opportunity of seeing what such commingling means for a man and for the community. Men to whom this is not a new experience are to find pleasure in assisting the unini-tiated over the stony places. The realization of all this could not, of course, be expected in the two times in which the Junior Prom has been held. Indeed it may require several more years to accomplish the desired re-sults. It seems very apparent, however, that tendencies point in the right direction. Last year's Prom marked an improvement over the first, in that dancing was not the exclusive feature of the occasion. Provision was made, though not of a sufficiently definite and attractive character, for those who do not dance. This is not passing judgment upon dancing as a means of di-version; it does mean to imply, however, that to allow dancing or any other form of diversion to become the exclusive feature of a social event indicates a distortion that cannot fail to prove exceedingly narrowing. It implies, too, that it is altogether un-fair to expect those who do not dance to attend an affair which provides definitely only for those who do dance, and which gives dancing such predominant or exclusive place that real com-mingling is impossible. Dancing has become such a mighty factor in the social life of young people everywhere that it is not THE MERCUttY. 17 surprising that it has gained a considerable foothold in our col-leges, but to permit it to have the ascendency at an event, such as the Junior Prom, which contemplates the presence of a large number who do not dance, shows great inconsiderateness and means the blasting of the real significance of the Prom. The far-reaching influence of the Junior Prom, properly regu-lated, can hardly be appreciated at this early stage in its evolu-tion, but to behold its possibilities along the lines indicated should be sufficient to impel us to assist in its proper develop-ment. A. ± A BIOGRAPHY OF SCHILLER. MISS- MARY BAUSCH, '11. JOHANJST Christoph Frederick Schiller was born at Mar-bach, in Wurtemburg, Germany, Nov. 10, 1759. He was the only son of Johann Casper Schiller, an officer in the Wurtemburg army, who held an inferior position in the Duke of Wurtemburg's household. The elder Schiller is was a man of great strength of character. To him Schiller is indebted for his firm and positive traits. His mother, Elizabeth Dorothea Kodweis, the daughter of an innkeeper at Marbach, was just the opposite of her husband in temperament, of strong yet gentle demeanor, full of simple charm and wisdom. We can see deep traces of this mother's sweetness and gentleness in the life of the gifted poet. Schiller did not find it easy to choose a profession. He first attended school at the village of Loech, where influenced by Par-son Moser, his teacher, he prepared himself for the clerical pro-fession. These plans were thwarted by the Duke of Wurtem-burg. He next entered the public school at Ludwigsburg. At the age of fourteen, he became a student at the military academy near Solitude Park, Ludwigsburg, the Duke wishing to have his services for the state. There he pursued the study of law, which was very repugnant to him. After two years had passed he 18 THE MERC PET. gave this up, and began the study of medicine, and was subse-quently appointed regimental surgeon. During this time, however, he was engaged in. the study of lit- 'erature. He was especially fond of the classics and became very proficient in Greek. His knowledge of Greek philosophy is ap-parent in his writings. His first work of note, "The Eobbers," he completed before he was twenty-two years old. Schiller pro-tested in this work against the restraints which he felt the Duke had unjustly forced upon him. Fearing the Duke whose wrath he had thus kindled, he fled to Mannheim. There he passed through many hardships, one reverse of fortune followed an-other. But still he continued to write. Schiller's first play in verse was "Don Carlos,'"' which was pre-sented at Hamburg in August, 1787. The Duke of Weimar, whose interest had been aroused in the young poet, made him one of the counsellors of his court. Upon his arrival at Weimar, Schiller was introduced to Goethe. This acquaintance subse-quently ripened into a close friendship. Early in December, 1788, Schiller's "History of the Eevolt of the Netherlands" was published. This work brought the best results, financially, which he had yet received. It not only had a rapid sale but it aroused the attention of the intellectual world. Through the influence of Goethe, he was offered a professorship in history at the University of Jena which after some hesitation he accepted. On Feb. 22, 1790, he was married to Charlotte von Lengefeld, a most admirable woman who aided him greatly in his life work. A very busy life opened to Schiller while at Jena. It was not unusual for him to spend fourteen hours daily in lecturing and writing. But the strain of such heavy work was too great for a man so delicately constituted as Schiller. A dangerous pulmonary dis-ease overtook him so that he was forced to give up his position as instructor in the university. Then through a generous gift he was enabled to revisit Wurtemburg, where he remained almost a year. In May 1794, he returned to Jena much improved in health although never again entirely well. The period between 1796 and 1800 was especially rich in lyrical productions, of which "Der Taucher," and "Das Leid von THE MERCURY. 1$ der Glocke " aTe prominent. The latter has been considered the best known of Schiller's poems. It deals with the most dra-matic events in the life of man. His great works, "Wallenstein" and "Maria Stuart" followed in close succession. Next came "Die Jungfrau von Orleans" in 1801, "Die Brant von Messina" in 1803, and "Wilhelm Tell," the last and perhaps greatest of his works, in 1801:. In this last great tragedy, Schil-ler portrays with wonderful power the Swiss resistance to tyr-anny. He causes the leader, Wilhelm Tell to stand elevated as a national hero. In all his writings, Schiller's love of liberty and hatred of despotism is manifest, but in none so much as in Wilhelm Tell. Schiller had now reached the zenith of his glory. His man-ners and appearance had improved. The timidity and conscious-ness of youth was replaced by the dignity and ease of more ma-ture years. He was overwhelmed with public honors and enthu-siastically received everywhere he went. But alas, when prosperity and fame seemed permanently se-cured to him, the dread disease which had undermined his health again overtook him. He endured this last trouble with great fortitude; though he had to pass through many trials yet his spirit seemed as it were to soar above them all. He continued to work until at last, his weakened powers being overcome, he passed away on May 9,, 1805, at the age of forty-five. The news, of his death brought universal grief to Germany. 20 TKE MEKCURY. CULTURE'S DISTRESSING FOE. G. E. WOLFE, '09. UST as men err in making happiness a distinct end, so do they err by putting culture in a similar position. And just as they deceive themselves by trying to pro-cure happiness as they would some commodity, so they deceive themselves by like attempts to gain culture. Life would indeed be a barren thing, if it were not enriched by our capacity for happiness and culture, but it is worse than barren where there is a false conception of these enrichments. That culture should be perverted to such an extent that men would make it a fad, seems almost inconceivable, yet that is what the intellectually curious and the socially idle made it some twenty years ago. What abhorrence must have been aroused in all who possessed true cultural instincts! For a fad is always a sham—a gross perversion—and a sham in the world of art ox-literature begets a peculiar offensiveness and hatred. The short-cut, superficial methods employed in pursuing this culture fad must have been entirely detestable to all serious-minded and sin-cere people. Could it be otherwise, with genuine culture possess-ing the rich qualities of ripeness and maturity in taste, intellect and culture ? How crude and defective the sham in the presence of the real! But this perversion, while more pronounced at certain periods, lias not been confined to one or two decades. Haste and arti-ficiality have always been employed by men, in their eagerness to possess the charming ripeness and greatness of soul which mark the truly cultured man. Recent years, however, have de-veloped a new condition, the recognition of which requires no unusual insight. There has developed a foe to culture which is distressing, not simply because it is aiming at culture by per-verse methods, but because it is entirely at variance with true cul-ture and lias so widely disseminated its influence that one may rightly inquire whether the true cultural instinct will not even-tually be quenched on account of it. "Smartness" is not a modern product by any means, but never has it captivated a people as it has the present generation; never THE MERCURY 21 has it held such predominant sway. Strictly speaking this spirit belongs to the world of mediocrity, but so important has it be-come that it claims recognition as the "real thing" from alL We have our so-called "smart sets," but the spirit of smartness in these days finds fruitful soil among all classes—as well among the wealthy as among the not-rich, as well among the intelligent as among the unlettered. And it is this, we believe, that today constitutes culture's distressing foe: it is this that makes impera-tive the loud calls, "Let Us Go Back"—in the direction of "The Simple Life." Not that there are no more who possess true culture, or who are eager to possess it. There are such indeed, but so effectually has the "sporty" microbe been doing its work in the rising gen-eration, that quiet people have well-nigh been driven to despera-tion, those with undeveloped cultural instincts have been tainted or entirely diverted and others never get a desire for cultural pursuit at all. One does not have to be a pessimist to be conscious of the fact that it is the fashion for everybody to be gay; that we are all called upon to persevere in a gala atmosphere. From the ex-treme solemnity of bearing that characterized our forefathers we have swung clear to the opposite extreme. It is impossible not to come in contact constantly with the cheap jargon that is everywhere afloat; with the lightness, cyni-cism and insinuation of immoral sentiment which marks the con-versation of popular young people. Fashionable clothes and jaunty manners never played as prominent a role as today. Plain, unassuming people, to whom this pertness and super-, ciliousness is extremely repulsive, are wondering when there will \ be a reaction toward the sane and rational. Surely the reaction-must come, and parents and educators have no more important duty before them than to seek to obliterate this spirit of sm^rt-. ness. THE MEECUEY. THE ECONOMIC ASPECTS OF THE LINCOLN ROAD. G. L. KIEFFEK, '09. JJST order to consider this subject properly, we must first inquire into the nature of the proposed "road." There-fore, briefly, "The Lincoln Eoad" is a proposed na-tional memorial to Abraham Lincoln. The "road" is to be a grand boulevard joining Washington, D. C, with Gettysburg, Pa. Its two hundred feet of width are to be occupied by green-sward plots, hedges, and trees, a speedway for automobiles, a driveway for carriages and wagons, two double-tracked electric railways, the one for express trains and the other for local trains. The very nature of the proposed "road" declares that it shall be equally open to both the rich and the poor. This being true it will be the means of bringing to Gettysburg, for at least a day, many of the hundreds of thousands of tourists that annually visit Washington. Hence with all this traffic, the very "road" itself might become an economic asset to the United States gov-ernment. To accommodate these people appropriate hotels would have to be maintained in Gettysburg. The present hotels and restau-rants would have to be renovated and enlarged. New ones also would have to be erected. A higher standard would be the order of the day for all Gettysburg hotels when official Washing-ton would be in the habit of paying them a visit at almost any hour. To meet this increase of business occasioned by the influx of people, Gettysburg herself would have to grow and increase the number of and enlarge all her business places in whatever line they might be. Naturally all property in Gettysburg would increase in value as would also all the property along the "road" from Washington to Gettysburg. To compete with the travelling facilities which would be af-forded by the proposed "road," the facilities of the present rail-roads would have to be bettered and new roads would be built— both electric and steam. All eyes would naturally be turned towards Gettysburg, which THE MERCURY. 23 with its historic surroundings, beautiful scenery, and medicinal springs, would naturally be expected to become the greatest sum-mer resort in the United States. The character and number of tourists would necessitate gov-ernment control of all guides. Thereby would undoubtedly be obliterated the blot of blots found upon the world. With gov-ernment control of all guides the tourists would be guaranteed just and equal treatment. For the guides themselves, better days would result. To Gettysburg's educational institutions would come greater publicity and a better appreciation of these institutions' rare sur-roundings. The result would naturally be manifested by an in-crease in the student bodies and an enlargement of the institu-tions themselves. All this resulting from the proposed "Lincoln Way?" Yes, more. With it connected to Gov. Stuart's proposed highway from Philadelphia to Pittsburg, "The Lincoln Way" naturally would become the backbone of a national highway system extend-ing all over the country. Then would all roads lead to Gettys-burg, which would be, in fact, the shrine of American patriotism, the Mecca for all Americans. THE "INDIAN STEPS." E. C. STOUFFER, '11. HE immense dam of McCalPs Ferry Power Company is nearing completion. As a result the slowly rising waters of the Susquehanna river are gradually cover-ing up one of the oldest and most noted landmarks of south-eastern Pennsylvania. The old "Indian Steps" are artificial shelves, cut no doubt, by means of stone hatchets into the face of a large round-pointed rock, which juts out from the west bank of the Susquehanna river. They were cut by the North American Indians possibly centuries before the discovery of America. These steps were used by the dusky inhabitants as a place on which to stand and dip the shad as they crossed the rapids on their annual journey 24 THE MERCURY. to the spawning grounds in the upper Susquehanna. Since the settlement of the country the white man has for generations used them for the same purpose. So far-famed were these steps that the Indians from the North, South, East and West came here to fish. Only the strong, vigorous and daring could fish from this rock for only such were able to endure the chill damp night winds which frequent the lower Susquehanna. As each contestant ap-peared a chalk mark or number was placed on his hat to desig-nate his turn. When his name was called he took his place, tied himself to a ring in the rock and cast the net. Each one was ■compelled to take his catch and be content. If there were a goodly number of shad, all was well; but if it proved to be a small catch he had to go away heavy hearted and take his place in the waiting line again. Year after year from these rocks hundreds of these daintiest ■of all fishes have been caught, some to grace the humble board of ■a poor riverman, some to please the fastidious taste of a city epicurean. The land around the "Indian Steps" was originally occupied by the Conestoga Indians and was preserved for them by the first proprietors of the state. Even Maryland, which was attempting to push her lines farther and farther north, respected the rights of the natives and made no attempt to appropriate this section. 'The land was held for the Indians until August 26, 1786, when a deed was granted to Joseph Eeed on condition that the "Indian Steps" should be preserved for a fishing place for the poor of the community. This charge has been faithfully kept until now. A few months more and the old landmark will have passed away and forever this curious specimen of Indian art will be lost to Pennsylvania. THE MERCURY. 25 THE INVESTIGATION OF THE FARMER; WHAT IT IS LIKELY TO BE WORTH. MISS HELEN H. BRENNEMAN, '08. EVEEAL months ago when President Roosevelt ap-pointed a committee to investigate the condition of the farmers throughout the country, it provoked quite a little amusement on the part of some people, while on the part of others it aroused sarcasm and anger. Many people regarded the President as a "busy-body" and failed to recognize the real aim in his interest in the farmers' condition. Never before has there been a man at the head of the nation with such broad and liberal views and one who has put forth such strenuous efforts in behalf of all kinds and classes of peo-ple. And it was such a motive that prompted him to take this action. The scope of this committee's work is not to ascertain the technical methods of farming and to inquire into personal matters, but to find out what are the general sanitary, social, educational and economic conditions of country life, to find out what is needed, what improvements can be effected, and in what way the government can help them. The commission was confronted with a task not only wide in its scope but comprising a large territory, and many people were to be dealt with. The President suggested that the farmers be called together in convenient meeting places for discussions, and that the members of the commission try to get in the closest touch possible with them and find out their needs. The commission has sent out circulars to professional men, business men, farmers and many others. These circulars con-tain a list of twelve questions with respect to the public schools in the vicinity and their efficiency; whether the farmers get rea-sonable returns from the sale of their products; whether they have good railroads, highway, telephone and rural postal service-accommodations ; whether there is a sufficient supply of labor in the neighborhood. These questions show what the commission are seeking to find out. It is their desire not only to ascertain the conditions but to get opinions and suggestions as to what needs to be done. Now the question arises, "What is the investigation likely to 26 THE MERCURY. be worth ?" In the first place it is very evident that almost the entire success depends upon the attitude of the people. If they continue to take it as a joke or with a feeling of animosity, cer-tainly the progress of the commisison's work is going to be checked and its ultimate success doubtful. However Dr. Bailey of Cornell University, the chairman of the commission, says that the public interest is increasing as the people come to under-stand the commission and its work. These words are encourag-ing and indicative of a very likely success. If this investigation is going to amount to anything, there must be co-operation of the people, especially of the farmers for whose benefit these efforts are being exerted. In a recent mes-sage to the commission the President said, "It is esssential that the farmers, the men who live on the soil should feel a sense of the ownership in this commisison, should feel that you gentle-men in very truth represent them and are responsive to their de-sires, no less than to their needs." If this committee receives the support of the people, it should effect some good results. There is a larger percentage of per-sons engaged in agricultural pursuits than in any other occupa-tion and it is only just that more attention should be given to their needs. The demands for better highways, better railway and trolley service are being universally agitated, and surely the commis-sion will concentrate, its efforts towards their accomplishment thus increasing the facilities of the farmer for better profits. At the Farmers' Convention held in Madison last October scientific crop raising and the need of teaching agriculture in the schools were among the principal topics approved by that orga-nization. It is just as essential that agriculture be taught in the rural schools as manual training and trades in the city schools. Here again if such a desire could be met by the gov-ernment it would not only benefit the farmers economically but the nation also. It remains to be seen just what this investigation will amount to, but nevertheless we can surmise that the educational advant-ages in some districts will be improved, that there will be bet-ter facilities for the transaction of business and that the social, educational and economic conditions will be bettered. T H E HERCURV Entered at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class Matter. VOL. XVI GETTYSBURG, PA., DECEMBER, 1908 No. 7 Editor-in-Chief Assistant Editor P. F. BLOOMHARDT, '09 CHARLES F. V. HESSE, '09 Exchange Editor Associate Editors H. REY WOLF, '09 SAMUEL FAUSOLD, '10 Business Manager EDWARD N. FRYE, '10 CHABLES L. KOPP, '09 Advisory Board Ass't Bus. Managers PROF. C. F. SANDERS, A. M. G. U. KNIPPLE, '10 PROF. P. M. BIKLE, PH.D. PAUL S. MILLER, '10 PROF. C. J. GRIMM, PH. D. Published each month, from October to June inclusive, by the joint literary societies of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. Subscription price, one dollar a year in advance ; single copies 15 cents. Notice to discontinue sending THE MERCURY to any address must be accompanied by all arrearages. Students, Professors and Alumni are cordially invited to contri-bute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Business Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. such is often the case. EDITORIALS. THE question has often been asked how a small college, with a limited number of students and a corresponding limitation of tal-ent can successfully conduct nearly as many student enter-prises as the larger univeristies— and conduct them, too, in such a way that they frequently rival similar organizations in their larger sister institutions. But Our own college may be taken as suffici- "28 THE MERCURY. ent proof. Our five varieties of athletic teams, our three publi-cations, two literary societies, debating and oratorical teams, musical clubs, and dramatic society, etc., have often been re-spected rivals to similar teams of other and larger schools. But the mere fact of the numbers of these enterprises does not neces-sarily have to affect the quality of the results accomplished. We are inclined to think that men with just as great ability and as large capacity for work are to be found in the smaller college as in the larger ones,—not as many, to be sure, but the ratio is about the same. Furthermore, the smaller college offers oppor-tunities to every one of such calibre, while in the larger schools, •only a comparatively few can take part. LAST year Gettysburg was disappointed in not being enter-tained by her dramatic society, the Mask and Wig. Presumably this was due to the lack of time for rehearsals. Nevertheless the loss was felt. This year it has been decided that no musical club trip will be taken. It has been suggested that the time, talent, and energ}', usually devoted to this organization be turned into another channel; that is, into the perfecting of a good play or minstrel show which might be allowed to take a trip, similar to the Triangle Club of Princeton. IN a few days the first term of the present collegiate year will be closed. After an arduous week's work in examinations, the Christmas vacation will be the more appreciated and enjoyed. Its rest and pleasure has been anticipated by all, but especially has it been longed for by the Freshmen. Christmas has been written about so often, and from so many different viewpoints, that little that is new is left to say. To the college student it is a joyous season to be looked forward to, but in its actual enjoy-ment, he no longer thinks of college and its surroundings for it is a vacation season at home. So, with its last issue for 1908, the MERCURY wishes all its readers a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. THE MERCURY-. 29 BOOK REVIEWS. INDER the Crust, by Thomas Nelson Page, Phrena. This volume is composed of original stories. Each story has a philosophical side. They were evidently written to stimulate thought and the author has succeeded admirably. One of the stories, "A Brother of Diagones" is especially commenda-ble. In this story, great wealth is pointed out as a stumbling block rather than an aid to happiness. The simple life, too, is contrasted to the hustle and bustle of the metropolis. Other stories of the volume effectively contrast altruism and egoism. The Biography of Thomas Jefferson, by John T. Morse, Phrena. This biography is very impartially written. The au-thor gives us the facts indulging in neither unmerited praise nor criticism. He seems to have an insight into the man's very nature and thus vividly portrays the actions of the statesman both at home and in the blaze of public life. The biography not only enumerates the achievements of Mr. Jefferson with their causes and effects but also those of contemporary statesmen. The biographer shows Mr. Jefferson as a visionary, shrewd politician and a far-sighted statesman. The book is very readable and valuable. Tides of Bamegat, by P. Hopkinson Smith, [Philo 11:6.] This is a book which one can scarcely afford not to read. It presents a very impressive picture of life. It is an account of how one member of a noble and respectable family brought shame and disgrace to the family name There is seen the secret sufferings of the sister through false modesty. Her life would have been made happy indeed, if she had only opened her heart to her lover. It shows how one sister may give advantages and culture to another and instead of receiving gratitude, have her head bowed in shame while the other, seemingly soulless, is not af-fected. There is also brought out the yearning and love of a father for his son whom he has driven from home in a fit of anger for the evil he has done when he refuses to do right. The story is somewhat overdrawn, but otherwise one can find no fault. It is nevertheless very instructive. Although somewhat tedious at times it is generally interesting. The language is clear and wholesome. The Brass Bowl, by Louis Joseph Vance, [Philo, 11:8.] The so THE MEECURY. title of the book is somewhat fanciful as the bowl has practically the least connection with the story. Anyone wishing to read a book for entertainment and recreation will find this romance suited to his purpose as it is very interesting, simple and full of action. The thread of the story seldom breaks and the climax is near the end. The reader will be pleased with the happy ter-mination. No characters are used except those which are neces-sary to the plot. The principal parts are played by persons of high social rank, and they seem to be somewhat magnified. There is no place in the book that is tedious. The narration is clear, animated and well balanced. The language is simple and vigorous. The author has handled 'the plot very well. He shows broadmindedness, independence, the possession of a vivid imagination and a pleasant sense of humor. He has an ac-quaintance with high social life. The reader will be very much pleased with "Mad Maitland's" spirit as he makes his wild flights and also with Miss Sylvia Graeme who comes into Mait-land's life in a very peculiar way. EXCHANGES. JE are glad to have with us again most of our old ex-changes. There are a few that have not arrived yet. We trust that all will soon respond. It seems necessary again to call attention to the con-tent of the MERCURY. The MERCURY, we are trying to make a literary journal, and not a paper combining literary, athletic and the other departments of college activities. The "Gettysbur-gian," our weekly publication, contains the news of the various departments of college life. Among the good things in the "College Student" we would call attention to "Lowell's 'Biglow Papers'" and "Eelation of Diction to Character." The former is a critical essay which brings to notice many interesting facts concerning this import-ant contribution to American literature. The latter shows how the ideals and characteristics of the individual are reflected in hie writings. THE MERCURY. 31 We are glad to welcome "The Thielensian" to our exchanges. In the article entitled "Greek and Eoman Influences" the writer reminds us of some of the beauties of Athens and Borne. The beginning of philosophy was in Greece. Then from the Eomans we can learn the lesson of patriotism. Their motto was, "Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori." The Eomans understood mili-tary matters, and we can also learn much from their sculpture and architecture. "Luther in the Eeformation" is also worthy of perusal. The character sketches of Taft and Bryan in the "Otterbein Aegis" are brief but very interesting. We all admire the teachings and doctrines of Socrates, the great Greek philosopher. He busied himself by trying to teach men the truth, and even though he greatly emphasized truth, he was especially eager that men should become happy and useful citizens. To be a good citizen he regarded the "summum bonum" of the individual's life. Indeed in our present age of political corruption, we can not over-emphasize high ideals of citizenship. "Making an American Citizen" in the'Thiloma-thean Monthly" presents this subject in a forceful manner. The writer gives some qualifications of the ideal American citizen. First, he must exercise the right of franchise. It is not only his right, but his duty, to vote. Secondly, he must vote intelligently and not allow himself to be bribed by a paltry farthing. Again, he must be a doer, and not depend upon party leaders. And lastly he must have strong moral convictions. As to the prob-lem of attaining this ideal, the author says, "If I were to offer a solution of this vital problem, it would be: the continual, untir-ing moral and civic training in home and school." All scholars have more or less knowledge of epic poetry. They all know something of Homer's Iliad and Odyssey, Virgil's Aeneid and Milton's Paradise Lost, but often the epics of less renown are neglected. "The Sketch Book" contains an article entitled "Sita," which tells us of India's epics. The Eamayana and the Mahabharata are India's chief epics. "Sita" is the im-portant character in the Eamayana. She is to the Eamayana what Helen of Troy is to Homer's Ilaid. The article gives a brief summary of the epic and closes with a few ethical com-ments on the character of "Sita." 32 THE MEKCUKT. We wish to comment on two articles in the "Albright Bulle-tin." "The Character of Satan in 'Paradise Lost,'" and "Work; Man's Opportunity." The writer regards Satan as the princi-pal character of the epic, and speaks of him from that stand-point. In the latter essay, we have a very practical exposition on work and its blessings to the individual. Lovers of German literature will find pleasure in reading "Two Representatives of German Epic and Lyric Poetry" in the "Lesbian Herald." Of our High School exchanges, the "Eed and Black" (Read-ing High School) deserves special mention. The departments are well represented and as a whole the paper makes a pleasing appearance. We gratefully acknowledge the usual exchanges. "PXYK iKT2« r>rv. M3VSUT13ER5. There's no pen that gives such all-round satisfaction i Conklin's Self-Filling Fountain Pen. It's the best pen for College Men. When an ordinary fountain pen runs dry in the middle of a word, it means you've got to stop right there, hunt up a rubber squirt gun, fill your pen to overflowing, clean both pen and dropper, wash your hands, and then endeavor as best you can to collect your lost Crescent f'f train of thought. It's different with Filler Jr-l 9 FILLING "THE PEN WITH THE CRESCENT-FILLER" To fill, iust dip it in any ink, press the Crescent-Filler, and the Conklin is filled and ready to write instantly. You can't over-fill it. Hence no inky fingers, no loss of time, no ruffled temper. The feed of the Conklin is No waiting for ink to come—no jerking—no slips, blots. ng dealers handle the Conklin. IE yours does not, order direct. Look tor the Crescent-Filler and refuse substitutes. Prices, $3.00 and up. Send at once (or handsome new catalog. T3E OOHZLIH PEH CO., 31 Itiahattsn Bnildiag, Toledo, Ohio. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. FUfOTTUfjE Mattresses, Bed Springs, Iron Beds, Picture Frames; Repair Work done promptly. Under-taking a specialty. - Telephone No. 97. 3=3L ZB_ 23eri-d.ex, 37 Baltimore Si., *-tttt/xhurg;, FA EDGAR C. TAWNEY BAKER West Middle Street. J. B. WINEMAN, DEALER IN CHOICE FAMILY GROCERIES, PROVISIONS AND FRUITS, BOARDING CLUBS A SPECIALTY. SUNDAY SCHOOL LESSON HELPS AND SUPPLIES, P. ANSTADT & SONS, Publishers, Book and Job Printing of all Kinds ttrtte for Prices. YORK, PA. ■> PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. EMIL ZOTHE ^MEMS ENGRAVER, DESIGNER, AND MANUFACTURING JEWELER 722 Chestnut St., Phila. SPECIALTIES : MASONIC MARKS, SOCIETY BADGES, COLLEGE BUTTONS, PINS, SCARP PINS, STICK PINS AND ATHLETIC PRIZES. All Goods ordered through G. F. Kieffer, CHARLES S. MUMPER, MtKALER MJV TTTTTS "KFTTTTT? 15! PICTURE FRAMES OF ALL SORTS * W *■*" * * *» *fc*Hf REpA|R WORK DONE PROMPTLY I WILL ALSO BUY OR EXCHANGE ANY SECOND-HAND FURNITURE NO. 4 CHAMBERSBURG STREET, GETTYSBURG, PA D. J. SWARTZ DEALER IN COUNTRY PRODUCE, GROCERIES, CIGARS AND TOBACCO. GETTYSBURG. SHOES KEPA1UHI> —BY— 115 Baltimore St., near Court House. GOOD WORK GUARANTEED. -IS-Your Photographer ? If not, why not? 41 BALTIMORE ST., GETTYSBURG, PA. 8EFT0N I FLEMMING'S LIVERY, Baltimore Street, First Square, Gettysburg, -Pa. Competent Guides for all parts of the Battlefield. Arm »» Filbert St. A convenient and homelike place to stay while in the city shopping. An excellent restaurant where good service combines with low prices. ROOMS §1.00 PER DAY AND UP. The only moderate priced hotel of reputation and eonsequenee in > 3Pla.ila.cLe2pla.ISL • » J 1 i SQ *. • • » ,atindry . . OF YORK . . Offers tfte COLLEGE STUDENTS first-dass work; at Special Low Prices. E. C. STOUFEER, Local Agt. C. D. SMITH, Prop. MEANS TASTY WOEK SAEEFULLY DONE. MfcNU CARDS. LETTER HEADS, WINDOW POSTERS ENVELOPES, DANCE CARDS TICKETS, Programs of all kinds. Everything the College Man wants in Paper and Ink. Specially designed work. Latest Effects in Paper, clone in Colors along lines of College Men's Associations. Catalog and Book work. The Gettysburg Compiler will keep old and new students in touch with town and college life. HELP THOSE WHO HELP US. The Intercollegiate Bureau of Academic Costume. Cotrell & Leonard, ALBANY, N. Y. ™2li2^! CAPS AND GOWNS To Utttyi-buri? College Lafayette. Lehigh. Dickinson. State College, Univ of Penn sylviinin, Hnrviird, Yale. Princeton. Wellesley, Bryn Mnwrnnd the others. Class Contracts a Specialty. Correct Hoods i. Degrees. Mr. College Man We are already lining up our clients for nextSpring. With our National Organization of 12 offices we will need over 2000 college men for technical, office, sales aud teaching positions throughout the United States. We can also use at any time college men who are in the market for a position. Let us explain to you NOW. Write for the "College Man's Opportunity." It tells how Hapgoods, a great organization built up by college men has placed many thousand youngmen, has raised the standard of college meu as a business factor throughout the world. State age, education, location desired. THE JV\iTIOJVJIZ, OBGjrjVTZJlTjrOJV OF BIlJlIJV BHOHKBS. Commonwealth Trust Building, Philadelphia, Pa. HOTEL GETTYSBURG, Headquarters for BANQUETS. Electric Lights, Steam Heat, All Conveniences. Free Bus to and from station. Convenient for Commencement Visitors. RATES $2.00 PER DAY. -livery CLi'ta.c'ked. Jot]i] P. JV^tH Proprietor. BECKER & CO., DEALERS IN All kinds of Fresh and Smoked Meats Chambersburg St., Gettysburg, Pa. WE RECOMMEND THESE FIRMS. Established 1867 by Allen Walton. ALLEN K. WALTON, Pres. and Treas. ROBT. J. WALTON, Supt. flummelstown Brown Stone Company, QUARRYMEN and Manufacturers of BUILDING STONE, SAWED FLAGGING and TILE. Wa/l/fcoTwille, ]£)a.-u,pT-vlr\, ^o. Pa. CONTRACTORS FOR ALL KINDS OF CUT STONE WORK. Telegrapn and Express Address, Brownstone, Pa. Parties visit-ing quarries will leave cars at Brownstone Station on the P. & R-R. R. For Artistic Photographs Go To T{PTON The Leader in PHOTO FASHIONS Frames and Passapartouts Made to Order. PATRONISE OUR ADY$RTI$$RS Come and Have a Good Shave or Hair Cut -AT-Harry B. Sefton's BARBER SHOP. 35 Baltimore St. Barber's Supplies a Specialty. Also choice line of Cigars. SHOES REPAIRED —BY— Charles Hartdagen, Middle St., Opp. Court House, GUARANTEE ALL WORK. GETTYSBURG DEPARTMENT STORE, Successors to the L. M. Alleman Hardware Co., Manufacturer's Agent and Jobber of HARDWARE, OILS, PAINTS AND QUEENSWARE, GETTYSBURG, PA. Tb.p only Jobbing House in Adams County. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. s * * » ** *»« * ft * «« « «»* ** « « * »* « * * « **«* ***« aa »« « ***** a »*« »* * *** Seligrqciq Are Gettysburg's Most Reliable TAILORS «* And show their appreciation of your patronage by giving- you full value for your money, and closest attention to the wants of every customer. ■ T' ■,f T &.WirX'z?&/&teM$&^.'^*fc?ttvte*&^ Students' Headquarters —FOR— HATS, SHOES, AVD GENT'S FURNISHING. Sole Agent for WALK-OVER SHOE EGBERT'S STORE. Prices Always Right T|e Lutheran PubliGOlioii Society No 1424 Arch Street, PHILADELPHIA, PA. Acknowledged Headquarters for anything and everything in the way of Books for Churches, Colleges, Families and Schools, and literature for Sunday Schools. PLEASE REMEMBER That by sending your orders to us you help build up and develop one of the church in-stitutions with pecuniary ad-vantage to yourself. Address HENRY 8. BONER, Supt

Issue 67.3 of the Review for Religious, 2008. ; LiVing Spiritually Being Mentored Praying Revisiti:ng Religious Life QUARTERLY 67 3 2008 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according ~ to Charisms of Catholic religious life, As Pope Paul Vl said, our way.of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih review@slu.edu ¯ \Veh site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ Pontifical College Josephinu,n 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religiou~ ¯ RO. 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. ©2008 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific libraryI clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All l copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the ~ first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising,, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collectivd works or anthologies. Such permission ~ will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho SJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 67.3 2008 contents prisms 228 Prisms 230 240 living spiritually Holy Spirit Spirituality James W. Kinn draws upon the Gospel and Acts of St. Luke and the Gospel of St. John to show how these might lead to an effective spirituality of the Spirit in our lives, A Charity Spirituality for Educators Judith Metz SC explores ways in which the special virtues of the Charity family (humility, simplicity, charity) offer educators guidelines to greater personal spiritual depth and an enriching way of being present in an educational environment. 226 255 266 being mentored St. Th6r~se's Contribution to the Catechism Joseph E Schmidt FSC reflects on the citations of St. Th~r~se of Lisieux found in the Catechism 6f the Catholic Church, particularly emphasizing her contribution to the understanding of prayer. DeSales' ~sion of Ecclesial and Consecrated Life Alexander T. Pocetto OSFS presents Francis de Sales' understanding of consecrated life, especially modeled in the Visitation, to give us a deeper appreciation of its relevance to the life and work of the church today. Re'view for Religious 281 286 praying Christian Prayer's Trinitarian Shape John Carroll Futrell SJ weaves together many scripture passages to demonstrate how, consciously or not, Christian prayer has a Trinitarian shape to it. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion Midnight Prayer in the Ignatian Exercises Philip Shano SJ proposes that we take a fresh look at what benefits a "midnight meditation" can have for a person in retreat. 290 3O4 revisiting religious life ~ The Social Matrix of Religious Obedience Bernard J. Lee SM presents the importance of relational power, the power of the weak, and a meticulous discernment in forming the social matrix of religious obedience. Of Tabernacles and Televisions Patricia McCarthy CND challenges religious to reflect on the importance of the presence of the Blessed Sacrament in their home lives today. Group Reflection / Discussion departments 317 Scripture Scope: St. Paul's Corinthian Correspondence 322 Canonical Counsel: The Lacuna Canon: Equity and Practice 327 Book Reviews 227 67.3 2008 prisms 228 T feast of the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary is celebrated on the last day of the month of May. It may seem to be just a timely liturgical setting between the feast of the Annunciation and the feast of the Birth of John the Baptist. But on closer examination, the content of the feast seems to set a direction for our Christian living throughout these middle months of the church's liturgical year. What we celebrate is the simple event nar-rated in Luke's Gospel about Mary's hastening to help her cousin Elizabeth in the latter months of her pregnancy--a fact which Mary had learned about through the message of the angel Gabriel. It is more than a pleasant visit of relatives. We signify something more by our use of the word visitation. Visitation has a purpose. There is a certain expectation that a visitation is meant to accomplish something. The meeting between par-ties at the time of a visitation has a significance. A meaning of some import is attributed to this encounter. For Elizabeth the very greeting of Mary upon her arrival causes a special stirring in her womb. Elizabeth is inspired by the Spirit to recognize the early pregnancy of Mary, hardly visible to the human, eye. Moreover her faith professes the specialness of Mary, her cousin, by proclaiming that she is "blessed among women." Somehow the leap of the baby within her womb led Elizabeth Review for Religious to proclaim that this baby in its first formation in Mary's womb is truly the blessed One. For Elizabeth, the simple appearance of Mary saying "Here I am" produces such an explosion of faith--an extraordinary moment of spiritual consolation. For Mary, Elizabeth's profusion of faith is like a warm-ing confirmation of all that the angel had told her. She truly is highly favored by God. Her fiat allowed God to find a human home within her. Mary's own faith was so strength-ened by Elizabeth's words that she could only break forth in her own prayer of praise of God. Mary was the first to realize what it really means to bring God to another. Why do we recall this event with our special celebra-tion? What appears to be just a simple helpful visit between two cousins--mothers-to-be--sets a tone and direction for each one of us in our Christian vocation. For us it is meant to be more than just a celebration of an event, however special this event is for Mary and for Elizabeth. We are led to reflect on all the "visits" in our life--how we are being called to make each one of them a visitation. Like Elizabeth, do we find ourselves "blessed" by all the people who appear, unexpectedly or not, in the doorways of our lives? Do we allow ourselves to find God actively working in their lives and ours? Does the ordinary everyday interaction call forth in us a leap of faith that consoles us deeply? Like Mary, do we find that we truly are the "bearers of God" in the simple everyday give-and-take of human conversation? Are we continually in amazement that God desires to work through us in so many effective ways? Looking back on each day's incidents, do we experience a quiet gratitude, a desire to praise the God who chooses to shine out through the limitations of our all-too-human words and actions? David L. Fleming SJ 229 67.3 2008 JAMES W. KINN Holy Spirit Spirituality living spiritually 230 "Perhaps the most neglected area of theology in the West is that of the Holy Spirit," says George Montague.1 He sees an urgent need for such a theology. In 1983 Raymond Brown, the great scripture scholar, noted "an almost total absence of comprehensive books on the Spirit in the New Testament.''2 Pope John Paul urged: "The ecclesiology of the [Second Vatican] Council must be succeeded by a new study of and devotion to the Holy Spirit, precisely as the indispensable complement of the teaching of the council.''3 Recently some efforts have been made to fill this vacuum.4 The present article offers a description of the two dominant pneumatologies found in the New Testament and hopes to show how these might lead to an effective spirituality of the Spirit in our lives. Let us begin with the way the New Testament speaks about Jesus. The synoptic James W. Kitm, an actively retired diocesan priest, wrote about John of the Cross in our 66.2 (2007) issue. His address is 6318 243rd Court; Salem, Wisconsin 53168. Review for Religious Gospels all depict Jesus as imbued with the Holy Spirit, who is the divine influence in his life and ministry. Luke, especially, presents a consistent Spirit Christology in narrative form.5 That is, when he speaks of Jesus as the unique Son of God, as the long-awaited Messiah, and as Savior of the world, he generally refers to the Holy Spirit's influence on him. He describes God's presence and power in Jesus' life in terms of the Spirit. God as Spirit is dynamically active in Jesus in a unique way. We are familiar with the way John's Gospel speaks about Jesus as the revelation of God. The prologue describes Jesus as God's Word (Jn 1:1-14). God as Word "comes down" and is embodied in the person and min-istry of Jesus. This Word is the manifestation of God in history. The rest of John's Gospel does not speak of this "Word," but it presents Jesus as the definitive wisdom and revelation of God. The Wisdom of God, prominent in the wisdom books of the Old Testament, is repre-sented and even personified in Jesus and his teaching.6 John's Gospel presents Jesus as the light of the world, as the whole truth to be believed, and as the visual image of God: "Whoever has seen me has seen the Father" (Jn 14:9). These two ways of describing Jesus in the Gospels are paralleled by the two ways of understanding the Holy Spirit. The New Testament teaches that God is present and active in his Holy Spirit, so that all Christians may know God, love God, and be inspired to follow Jesus. Again we will follow Luke and John. Luke's Theology of the Spirit Just as Luke's Gospel presents the Spirit as the energy present and active in Jesus, so in the Acts of the Aposdes, beginning with Pentecost, Luke shows the Spirit as pres- 231 67.3 2008 Kinn ¯ Holy Spirit Spirituality ent in and empowering the early church. At the end of his Gospel, Luke relates the promise of Jesus to his apos-des: "I am sending the promise of my Father upon you; but stay in the city until you are clothed with the power from on high" (Lk 24:49). At the beginning of Acts, Jesus says: "Wait for the promise of the Father about which you have heard me speak; for., in a few days you will be bap-tized with the Holy Spirit" (Ac 1:4-5). Thus Jesus teaches that the Spirit is the power to be given to the apostles and the dynamic principle of their role as wit-nesses of "the way" of salvation through faith in him. Then Jesus summarizes the whole mission of the apostles and the work of the Spirit in them: "You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth" (Ac 1:8). The Spirit will inspire them to be witnesses to Jesus, starting in Jerusalem and continuing all over the world. Luke follows this paradigm throughout Acts, mention-ing the Spirit fifty-seven times. Because of that frequent reference to the Spirit, some would like to characterize this book as the Acts of the Spirit. Consider how effectively Luke describes the Spirit's work in Acts. First, the Holy Spirit empowers the dis- Just as Luke's Gospel presents the Spirit as the energy present, and active in Jesus, so in the Acts of the Apostles Luke shows the Spirit as present in and empowering the early church. 232 Review for Religious ciples to witness to Jesus: "We are witnesses of these things, as is the Holy Spirit who is given to [us]" (Ac 5:32). The Spirit inspires the early believers to speak in tongues and to prophesy: "They were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in different tongues, as the Spirit enabled them to proclaim" (Ac 2:4). Then the Spirit comes upon the new believers in Jerusalem: "They were all filled with the Holy Spirit and contin-ued to speak the word of God with boldness" (Ac 4:31). Next Peter and John are sent to Samaria to lay hands on the newly baptized: "Then they laid hands on them and they received the Holy Spirit" (Ac 8:17). The Spirit also marks out the first new assistants (deacons) as those "filled with the Holy Spirit" (Ac 6:3). The Spirit directs individual missionaries: Philip (Ac 8:29-39), Peter (Ac 10:19-20), and Paul (Ac 20:22). In Paul's case the Spirit directs him again and again (Ac 20:23). Also the Gentile converts are specifically seen as inspired by the Spirit: "The Holy Spirit fell upon all who were listening to the word. [The Jews] were astounded that the gift of the Holy Spirit should have been poured out on the Gentiles also" (Ac 10:44-45). Later the Spirit selects Barnabas and Paul for the mission to Cyprus: "The Holy Spirit said, 'Set apart for me Barnabas and Saul for the work to which I have called them'" (Ac 13:2- 4). Then, in the Council of Jerusalem, the Spirit inspires their decisions: "It is the decision of the Holy Spirit and of us." ( Ac 15:28). Finally, the Spirit continues to aid the "overseers" in tending the flock: "Keep watch over. ¯ the whole flock of which the Holy Spirit has appointed you as overseers" (Ac 20:28). Let me draw some conclusions. The constant inspi-ration and guidance of the Holy Spirit is the distinguish-ing feature of Lukan ecclesiology. Luke's pneumatology 233 67.3 2008 Kinn ¯ Holy Spirit Spirituality flows from his Spirit Christology. This pneumatology can be most effective for our Christian life and spiritu-ality. It can easily be understood by modern Catholics, because it begins with the historical person of Jesus as seen in the synoptics; what we naturally see there is an integral human being, Jesus, who is empowered by God's Spirit to accomplish our redemption. This pneu-matology can be very appealing to us because it shows the continuity between the Spirit's empowering Jesus and the Spirit of Jesus empowering us. Finally, with this Spirit theology, we can easily see a parallel in our Christian lives. God's Spirit dwells in us by grace in such a way as to empower us to live after the model of the Spirit-driven Jesus (Mk 1:12). 234 John's Theology of the Spirit Let us begin with John's Christology. The prologue of John's Gospel presents Jesus as the Word, the Logos, the Verbum. After this, chapters 1-13 present Jesus as "the truth," the "light of the world," the wisdom of God. To know him is to know the Father (Jn 8:20); to see him is to see the Father (In 14:9). John's Christology might be summarized by saying that Jesus is the revela-tion of God, the human expression of God. Then in chapters 14 to 16 John's Jesus promises the disciples a "new Advocate" (Jn 14:16). Jesus himself is their original Advocate: "We have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ (1 Jn 2:1), and now he promises the Spirit as an Advocate who will take his place and "be with [them] always" (Jn 14:16). Jesus even makes this assertion: "I tell you the truth, it is better for you that I go. For, if I do.not go, the Advocate will not come to you. But if I go I will send him to you" On 16:7). The disciples will somehow be better off after he has left Review for Religious them and sent them the Holy Spirit as their permanent Advocate. We can understand Jesus' amazing assertion here by considering the five Paraclete sayings in chap-ters 14 to 16. 1. "I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate to be with you always, the Spirit of truth, [who] remains with you and will be in you" (Jn 14:16-17). Here Jesus sets out the entire work of the Paraclete in his followers. He says that the Paraclete will dwell with them permanently as a new presence of Jesus in all of them. The meaning of this immanence is that there is a permanent spiritual status for all who believe in Jesus, and he assigns this divine immanence to the Spirit/Paraclete. 2. "The Advocate, the holy Spirit, that the Father will send in my name--he will teach you everything and remind you of all that I told you" (Jn 14:25-26). To "teach" in John is practically a verb of revelation, but the Spirit will not bring a new revelation: "He will not speak on his own, but he will speak what he hears . He will take from what is mine and declare it to you" (Jn 16:13-14). In John the teaching 0f Jesus contains all that the disciples need to know, all the revelation of God. The proper function of the Spirit of Jesus, then, is to make them understand Jesus' teaching clearly. Jesus promises that the Advocate "will remind you of all that I told you." Often, in John's Gospel, Jesus promises that later--after the resurrection--the disciples will remem- In John the teaching of Jesus contains all that the disciples need to know, all the revelation of God. 67.3 2008 Kinn ¯ Holy Spirit Spirituality ber what he told them and come to understand it (see Jn 2:22; 12:16; 13:7, 19; 14:19-20, 29; 15:20-21, 26; 16:4, 12- 13). He means that they will understand the deep mystery of redemption (through suffering and death) only after they have known his passion. These functions of the Spirit of Jesus, teaching and reminding, are also meant for us. Pope John Paul affirmed this: "The promise is not limited to the aposdes and their immediate companions . It extends to the future generations of disciples . of Christ.''7 3. "When the Advocate comes., the Spirit of truth that proceeds from the Father, he will testify about me. And you also will testify" (Jn 15:26-27). This will not be two sources of testimony, but only one; the Spirit will encourage the disciples internally to witness to Christ. When they experience opposition from the world, the Spirit of truth will work within their hearts to strengthen them in their own faith and provide them with unshakable confidence. 4. "[When the Advocate] comes, he will convict the world in regard to sin and righteousness and condemna-tion; sin, because they do not believe in me; righteous-ness, because I am going to the Father and you will no longer see me; condemnation, because the ruler of this world has been condemned" (Jn 16:8-11). In John's Gospel, there is no mention of formal public trials and judges (as are mentioned in Mt 10:17-18 and Mk 13:9). Rather Jesus' concern here seems to be for the same theological conflict that characterized his public life, namely, the great opposition between him and the world, the struggle for and against Jesus. Specifically here the Paraclete will prove to the disciples that the world is guilty of sin, the basic sin that consists in refus-ing to believe in Jesus. This sin is described often in John's Gospel (Jn 3:19; 9:41; 12:37; 15:22-24). Review for Religious The disciples will continue this contest against the unbelieving world, and the Paraclete will be their "coun-sel for the defense" to prove the world guilty of disbe-lief in God and his Word. The Spirit will also witness against the world to prove the world wrong about righ-teousness or justice, by showing that Jesus, whom it judged guilty, was really innocent and just. The final element in the Paraclete's witness against the world is condemnation, that is, proof that in condemning Jesus the world itself was judged. For, in the person of the Paraclete, Jesus is still present after his death; so, if Jesus' passion repre-sented the confrontation of Jesus and the prince of this world (Jn 12:31; 14:30), then Jesus' victory over death is also his victory over the prince of this world (see 1 Jn 4:3-4; 5:4-5). 5. "The Spirit of truth., will guide you to all truth; ¯. he will speak what he hears, and will declare to you the things that are coming" (Jn 16:12-13). The func-tions of the Paraclete here are similar to those in John 14:26, that is, to teach and to call to mind, but they are further developed here, especially by the addition of two phrases. The phrase "guide you to all truth" (or "guide you along the way of all truth," as in the Anchor Bible) seems to include more than a deeper intellectual under-standing by teaching a way of life that follows Jesus. The Johannine understanding of "way of truth" is not an abstract system of faith but a sphere of action, similar to the Hebrew Scriptures' way of life in conformity with the Mosaic law, and also similar to "the way" in the Acts of the Apostles.8 The phrase "declare to you the things that are com-ing" does not involve any new revelation, for Jesus also says the Spirit "will speak what he hears." Raymond Brown says that this "consists in interpreting in relation 237 67.3 2008 Kinn ¯ Holy Spirit Spirituality 238 to each coming generation the contemporary signifi-cance of what Jesus has said and done.''9 The Paraclete will help each generation to uncover the deep meaning of the person and mission of Jesus for their particular time and place. Parallels and Some Points John's pneumatology is quite parallel to his Christology. The Spirit of Jesus will perform many of the same functions as Jesus did for his disciples: teach them, be their advocate in trials, intercede for them with God, encourage them, lead them to all truth, and guide them into the future. The Spirit of Jesus will be both a permanent presence and an active teacher and guide. The Spirit will dwell in all Jesus' disciples. Once Jesus has departed, the Spirit of Jesus becomes the "new Advocate." Just as John presents Jesus in his public life as the God's Word, the complete revelation of God, so he presents the Spirit of truth as Jesus' mirror image present to all Christians to the end of time. Such a theology of the Spirit can assist us in our spiritual lives. We live in the age of the Spirit; we are to be guided by the Spirit of Jesus. Jesus himself intends that the Paraclete be his new persona dwelling within us. What Jesus was for his disciples, the Paraclete is meant to be for us. Jesus said, "I will not leave you orphans; I will come back to you" (Jn 14:18). More than that, the Father and the Son will dwell with us: "My Father will love [you], and we will come to [you] and make our dwelling with [you]" (Jn 14:23). This means that the Spirit of Jesus is the personal presence of God dwelling within us. The Father, Son, and Spirit are within us, but Jesus assigns this presence particularly to the Holy Spirit. This Spirit of Jesus is intimior intimo meo ("deeper Review for Religious in me than I am"), in Augustine's words.1° As Raymond Brown has observed, "the Old Testament theme of 'God with us' (the Immanuel of Is 7:14) is now to be realized in the Paraclete/Spirit who remains with the disciples forever." I 1 Notes ~ George Montague SM in the foreword to The Spirit, Giver of Life and Love by John Paul II (Boston: Pauline Books and Media 1996), p. 12. 2 Raymond Brown, "Diverse Views of the Spirit in the New Testament," Worship 57 (May 1983): 227. 3 John Paul II, Dominum et vivificantem, in L'Osservatore Romano, 9 June 1986. 4 See, for example, the bibliography in James W. Kinn, The Spirit of Jesus in Scripture and Prayer (Lanham, Maryland: Rowman and Littlefield [a Sheed & Ward Book], 2004), pp. 213-217. s See Luke 1:35, 41, 67; 2:10-11, 25-32; 3:22; 4:1, 14. 6 See John 1:33-34; 3:16-19; 4:26; 5:24; 6:29, 40, 47-48; 11:25-26; 14:6-1 I. 7John Paul II, Spirit, Giver of Life, p. 22. s Raymond Brown, The Gospel according to John, 13-21, Anchor Bible, vol. 29A (New York: Doubleday, 1966), pp. 628-629. 9 Brown, Gospel, p. 716. ~0 Garry Wills's translation, shortened. Ed. *' Brown, Gospel, p. 644. 239 67.3 2008 JUDITH METZ A Charity Spirituality for Educators 240 ~. harity spirituality" is modeled on the lives of ~ the 17th-century Saints Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac and our 19th-century American Saint Elizabeth Seton. Vincent and Louise were founders and collaborators in organized works of charity in France: the Confraternities of Charity, the Congregation of the Mission, and the Daughters of Charity; and Elizabeth Seton modeled her .founding of the American Sisters of Charity on their inspiration. The Charity charism of these three saints stresses seeing Jesus present in every-one we meet, especially the poor, and believing that Jesus lives and acts through us. Two scriptural passages that were guiding principles for them are St. Paul's "I live, now not I, but Christ lives in me" (Ga 2:20) and Jesus' "Whatever you do to the least of my brothers and sisters, you do to me" (Mt 25:40). Judith Metz SC is the archivist and historian for the Sisters of Charity of Cincinnati. Her address is 5900 Delhi Road; Mount St. Joseph, Ohio 45051. Email: judith.metz@srcharitycinti.org Review for Religious Charity spirituality includes response to many types of societal needs, preference for the poor, self-sacrific-ing service, hospitality, practicality, and down-to-earth common sense. The lives of our Charity saints, though filled with activity, were motivated interiorly by their relationship with God. The community motto of the Sisters of Charity is "The Charity of Christ Urges Us" (2 Co 5:14). St. Paul's hymn of charity gives us one description of what the charity of Christ looks like: "Love is always patient and kind, it is never jealous; love is never boastful or conceited; it is never rude or selfish; it does not take offense, and is not resentful. Love takes no pleasure in other people's sins but delights in the truth; it is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes" (1 Co 13:1&4-7). The Charity approach to education asks us to love and accept with openness and sincerity all persons as they are, embracing them and empowering them, nur-turing their abilities, while at the same time challenging them to grow in every aspect of their lives. Elizabeth Seton articulated this to one of her friends when she wrote: "You know I am as a Mother encompassed by many children of different dispositions--not all equally amiable or congenial, but bound to love, instruct, and provide for the happiness of all, to give the example of cheerfulness, peace, l~esignation, and consider indi-viduals more as proceeding from the same Origin and tending to the same end than in the different shades of merit or demerit.''1 In a Charity approach to education, emphasis is placed on character development, teaching sound moral principles, integrity, faith formation, and Catholic val-ues principally through the modeling of the teacher. We work to create an environment (in our personhood 241 67.3 2008 Metz ¯ A Charity Spirituality for Educators 242 and in the place itself) that nurtures those we serve in this ministry. In addition to the charity and zeal of our motto, Charity spirituality stresses certain other virtues: remembering the presence of God in our lives, humil-ity, simplicity. My reflection is on these virtues and how they may come into play in our lives as educators. The Presence of God and the Grace of the Moment The practice of the presence of God means open-ness to the "now" because God is present in it. It means believing that there is a blessing, a grace, in focusing on the person or task at hand because that is what God is asking of us now. Elizabeth Seton wrote to a friend: "I am going to meet everybody in the grace of the moment, which we never can know till we find the humour and temper of the one we are to meet with--the many mis-takes all swallowed and comforted by intention inten-tion intention.''2 We never know what the moment is going to bring, but we trust that God will be present in it--and that God is present through us to others. An important principle of the spiritual life is "Be where you are, do what you are doing." You might say, "Isn't that a kind of truism? Aren't we always doing whatever it is that we are doing?" But, if we reflect for a moment, we admit that the answer is often no. Many times we perform our work in a distracted manner as we think about our busy schedules or look out the corner of our eye at a pile on our desk. Teachers constandy experience the time crunch of preparing lesson plans, correcting papers, attending meetings, and coordinat-ing extracurricular activities, all in addition to the time spent in the classroom. The challenge is: How do we remain centered on God and on one thing at a time as we juggle these many demands? How do we bring Review for Religious ourselves to the point where we can give ourselves to what we are doing--with full attention, watchfulness, and consciousness? Why do we find it so difficult to live in the present moment? We each probably have some personality traits that make focusing a challenge, but our culture works against us as well. Technological advances can prove overwhelming to both teachers and students. Who of us does not feel besieged at times with e-mail, voice-mail messages, text-messaging, and who knows what else? We are pulled in many directions, with people clamor-ing for instant responses. Our fast-paced soci-ety also makes our students want instant oral answers. They say, "Just tell us now. We don't have time to waste looking it up or thinking about it." How do we respond to their desire for quick answers when they need to go through the sometimes tedious process of learning? How do we help them become aware of the value and joy in doing the learning, and even in waiting patiendy as it slowly matures and ripens within us? Another deterrent to awareness or mindfulness is our production-oriented culture that urges us to always be doing something "useful." Thomas Merton once observed, "We are so obsessed with doing that we have no time and no imagination left for being.''3 Only through slowing down and being more reflective can we hope to live in the now attentively. Perhaps a step The practice of the presence of God means openness to the "now" because God is present in it. 243 67.3 2008 Metz ¯ A Charity Spirituality for Educators 2441 or two outside for a deep breath of flesh air, stopping to take a series of deep breaths, or finding a quiet cor-ner during a break would help us calm our spirits and refocus our efforts. Elizabeth Seton told her sisters: "Keep well to what you believe to be the grace of the moment. You will often be at a stand for what is best in a situation so new, but only do your best as you have always done, and leave the rest for our dear God.''4 I invite you to reflect for a moment on how a quietly graced focus on the present moment might make a difference in your relationships with your students, with your colleagues, with administrators, parents, and all whom you meet. Humility Humility entails the recognition that all we have comes from our loving God, and so one of the basic stances of a humble person is gratitude. St. Vincent taught: "Be wary about crediting anything to your-self. In claiming this, you in effect steal from God and do God injury. God alone is the author of every good thing.''s Humble persons acknowledge the gifts they have received. Reflect for a moment on your own gifts: intelligence, creativity, insight, generosity--things people have pointed out to you or you recognize within yourself. As we reflect, we realize that all of these quali-fies are things we in one way or another have received and have a responsibility to cultivate. We also realize that others have different gifts. St. Paul tells us: "There is a variety of gifts, but always the same Spirit; there are all sorts of services to be done, but always the same Lord; working in all sorts of different ways in differ-ent people, it is the same God who is working in all of them. The particular way in which the Spirit is given to Review for Religious each person is for a good purpose" (1 Co 12:4-7). How do I value my gifts, the gifts of others? Recognizing that all is gift, humble people are open to the multiplicity of gifts around them--open to all the richness and diversity in the world. We can be infinitely enriched if we maintain an openness of spirit. Teaching demands humility. It is about being receptive even when it is difficult. Elizabeth Seton told her early sisters, "The [person] who is truly humble, accepts willingly, without resentment, all that [he or she] receives, though these be corrections, reprimands, slights, or anything else that may disturb her peace or hurt her feelings . This [humble] person is not demanding, domineering, dictatorial, but goes about with that quiet power which finds its source in selflessness.''6 From another perspective, at a commencement address an educator-friend of mine recently noted: Teaching is mostly about listening [which is another way of receiving]. Listen to the rhythms of life puls-ing through your bodies and in the environment all around you, both natural and cultural. Listen to the music of the spheres, as the ancients described in the rhythms of the cosmos. Most important, listen to each other, your friends and neighbors, of course, but your adversaries too. Because if you do I know that you will find they share the same aspirations as you, even though the path they choose to attain them is different from yo~ars.7 What are some manifestations of this virtue as applied to the ministry of education? One characteristic of Charity education has always been a holistic/integra-tire approach to learning, an emphasis on seeing and appreciating interrelationships, seeing the larger picture. Educators have always faced the challenge of preparing students to function successfully in their society--not 245 67.3 2008 Metz ¯ .4 Charity Spirituality for Educators just in a narrow sense but as fully developed, mature persons. Back in the early 1800s, Elizabeth Seton told her students, "I do not come to teach you how to be good nuns or Sisters of Charity; but rather I would wish to fit you for the world in which you are destined to live."8 How do we go about guiding students to become fully developed, mature persons--fitting them for the world in which they are destined to live? First, we assist them in their moral and social development. Some say today that years ago schools were "nothing but finish-ing schools." But perhaps today we have gone to the other extreme by attending only to academics and ignoring other aspects of our students' development. Today we hear stories about the problems employers have with issues like integrity and responsibility among their workers, and social development as well--leading businesses to offer sessions on matters like deportment, proper manners, and appropriate codes of conduct. Charity education stresses not only academic sub-jects but social skills and values such as respect and equality, such as shunning the prejudices of the day not because it is "politically correct" but because it is moral. Charity education stresses forming compassionate rela-tionships and assuming responsibility toward the larger community, rather than placing self at the center of the universe. It includes education in social-justice issues, with a special concern for the most needy, achieved not only through instruction but through experience. The early sisters always made it a priority to visit the sick and poor in their area, frequendy taking students with them, thereby modeling the Charity spirit of service. Charity education approaches the spiritual, cultural, and academic as a unified whole. It teaches self-disci- R~vie~v.for Religious pline, how to make good choices, and the need of look-ing beyond ourselves. It offers principles for making moral choices, for instance, in the use of new technolo-gies or in responding to the issues of the day. A second way that humility can be expressed in an educational environment is in adaptability or flexibil-ity. Adaptation to the needs of the times has been a hallmark of the American Sisters of Charity ever since they adopted their first Rule, which stated that "modi-fications [would be made to the French Daughters of Charity Rule] as. the difference of country, habit, and culture required." When Elizabeth Seton began, she had every inten-tion of focusing her efforts on the education of poor children. Soon she was involved in a boarding academy and caring for orphans as well. From these beginnings Charity schools pioneered in the education of women. They included all types of schools--elementary, board-ing academies, Latin schools, special education, nursing schools. They offered broad curriculums, meeting and often exceeding contemporary standards. Music and the fine arts always flourished alongside standard academic subjects. Meeting these demands of continual change and constant readjustment can be difficult and challenging. It requires a degree of humility to go back and reassess, to change your approach and redo your lesson plans. When I was taking education classes in college, one of our education professors often commented: "Some teachers have twenty years of experience, and some have the same experience twenty times." At the time I did not fully understand her meaning, but it did not take me long after I began teaching to realize exacdy what she meant. 247 67.3 2008 h/letz ¯ A Charity Spi~tualfty for Educators Educational flexibility includes the willingness to take risks without being defensive if your idea or project does not work. It requires making choices in the best interest of the students even when they resist and are critical-- even though it is so much easier to be popular. Vincent de Paul was so convinced of the importance of simplicity that he called it "my gospel," 248 Simplicity Vincent de Paul was so convinced of the impor-tance of simplicity that he called it "my gospel" and "the virtue I love most." "Do you know where our Lord dwells?" he asked; "it is among the simple.''9 There are many contemporary ways of describing simplicity: authentic-ity, integrity, genu-ineness, passion for the truth, sincerity, purity of intention, wholeheartedness. These words con-tain the essence of what Vincent was talking about. They include an openness to the rich-ness and diversity of worldviews, cultures, people, and ideas--a searching for the larger picture, a willingness to communicate, to always be in a stance of readiness to embrace more. Looking at several aspects of this virtue, we see how it can be part of our everyday approach to our educa-tional ministry. First is seeking the truth with sincer-ity and speaking the truth with courage. Jesus told us, "Let your 'yes' mean 'yes' and your 'no' mean 'no'" (Mt 5:37). St. Vincent often spoke of the importance of our actions matching our words, of the necessity of always Review for Religious being authentic: "Our heart must not think one thing while our mouth says another.''~° People spontaneously admire and trust those who live out what they believe and say. Trust is essential to our relationships, to true communication, which is what education is all about. Our challenge is to not get caught up in the conven-tions of our society, that is, for instance, to be "clever," to gain a laugh at another's expense; to act one way around some people and another way around others; to have hidden motives for saying and doing things, such as to ingratiate ourselves or be noticed, to gain some advantage for ourselves or be regarded as acceptable. Instead, we are called to authenticity, accepting the con-sequences whatever they may be. Elizabeth Seton advised her daughter: "Oh do try to be quite independent in virtue. Take its true dignity, and never let impious custom, or the shame of being laughed at, or even the contempt of unreasonable minds, tempt you to treat anyone with the least slight.''11 For our part, how often do we act in inauthentic ways with those in authority, with our peers, with our students? How can we hope to influence students to be models of honesty and integrity if we are not? I invite you to reflect on how seeking the truth with sincerity and speaking the truth with courage are opera-tive in your educational ministry. Are there times when you hide or gloss over the truth, when you are threat-ened by another's approach, closed to his or her point of view? Do you cloak the truth with ambiguity or have hidden agendas? Do you change your story according to whom you are speaking with--administrators, col-leagues, students, parents? How do you model and teach straightforwardness, integrity? One of the beatitudes is "Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God" 249 67.3 2008 Metz ¯ A Charity Spirituality for Educators (Mt 5:8). This is sometimes rendered, "Blessed are the utterly sincere." For St. Vincent, purity of heart or purity of inten-tion meant seeking God in all things, and willing what God wills. It means making God the center of our lives, being wholehearted, orienting our lives so that our sen-timents, our thoughts, our words, and our actions are working together. It means being without guile, with-out cynicism, living with a vision that leads and inspires others. How might this look in an educational setting? One way might be an undaunted quest for excellence despite obstacles--the indifference of students, frustra-tion at lack of resources, disparagement of our enthu-siasm for projects or even for learning itself. Elizabeth Seton spoke of her pleasure in study, her interest in the "works of imagination" and the "wonderful production of science." She was avid about learning, and instilled in her pupils a love of it. She never tired of teaching and always found new joy in engaging with her students. Are there times when I am tempted to act or speak with less than true simplicity? Have I ever curtailed my enthusiasm for fear of others' response? "Remember," Elizabeth Seton told her teachers, "the whole of our spirit is to be Humble and Simple.''12 When on~ of our sisters died recently, one of her former students wrote: "Sister taught me in 1931 and 1932. She had an enthusiastic interest in the subjects she taught, in my case trigonometry and chemistry, and I believe that interest eventually led me to obtain an engi-neering degree in 1939 from Ohio State University." How do we ever know the impact on our students of our enthusiasm and quest for excellence in the class- ¯ room? Review for Religious As early as 1810, Elizabeth Seton felt the need for teachers at her school to be better prepared. She established standards of excellence, insisted the sisters have time to study, and arranged that the more expe-rienced teachers mentor the newer ones. To improve instruction she established a normal school and hired additional help so that the sisters had time to study.13 Throughout the history of the Sisters of Charity, these practices have prevailed. In the late 19th century, for instance, the Sisters of Charity of Cincinnati appointed a congregational board of education and a superinten-dent of schools. They developed curriculums, organized summer school for the sisters, and required them to pass exams before they were allowed in the classroom. Mentors checked lesson plans of beginning teachers and offered suggestions about teaching methods and class-room management. The Charity approach to education, as to any minis-try, means being wholehearted in what we do, doing our best and striving for improvement. Whatever our success or failure, as long as we can say we did our best, we will have acted with authenticity and integrity, that is, with simplicity. In an expression of her simple trust, Elizabeth Seton told a friend, "If I succeed I bless God, if I do not succeed I bless God, for then it will be right that I do not succeed.''14 Charity Vincent de Paul and Elizabeth Seton were people of action. They were unable to speak of loving God wholeheartedly without immediately including relation-ships with and service to others. In one of her jour-nals, Elizabeth Seton noted: "The charity of our blessed Lord in the course of his ministry had three distinct 67.3 2008 IYletz ¯ .4 Charity Spirituality for Educators qualities which should be the model for our conduct. It was gentle, benevolent, and universal.''15 The impor-tance of these qualities in educational ministry is clear. Among the hallmarks of Christ;s gendeness, Elizabeth lists patience, vulnerability, accepting everyone equally, bearing with others' weaknesses, and quietly giving ser-vice. How many times a day do we feel called upon to practice patience or to bear with others' weaknesses? As educators standing in front of a classroom, we are cer-tainly vulnerable. Louise de Marillac said: "True charity loves and forbears in all things, even contradictions and repugnance.''16 Can we find in ourselves the resources to imitate Christ's gentleness when we are contradicted or shown disrespect? The second quality of Christ's ministry that Elizabeth Seton identifies is benevolence, the gratu-itous gift of self over the long haul, freely given with-out expecting any return. St. Vincent said: "Love finds a way: it is inventive even to infinity.''~7 Love is dedi-cated and steadfast under any circumstances; it is open to everyone in warmhearted hospitality. It requires hard and sometimes unpleasant work; it requires rising above our own likes and dislikes in order to give our attention and concern to others, valuing each person we encounter as a precious gift deserving our gift in return. It requires moving outside of ourselves for the sake of others. Elizabeth highlights universality as the third char-acteristic of Christ's ministry. Charity spirituality has a special concern for the poor. How can we reach out and care for those whom society has left behind or left out-side? Vincent de Paul says: "Love God, make no excep-tion of persons, be indifferent to all places.''~8 We are called upon to do this every day in our ministry--with Re'view for Religious the student who cannot get it, the student who does not care, the student who does not respect us. Elizabeth Seton welcomed pupils from diverse back-grounds against the wishes of her advisors. She accepted Protestant students and provided catechetical instruc-tion for the black children of the area. She said: "All apply to the Sisters of Charity who are night and day devoted to the sick and ignorant.''~9 How universal is our attitude toward all with whom we come in contact? How open are we to caring about and caring for all of creation? In commenting on the ministry of the Sisters of Charity, someone recently remarked on the qualities she noted: "They were never afraid to address the need and often the impossible; worked untiringly and with such zeal--quiet and unrecognized--to make life better for others. They embraced all the challenges lovingly and with such commitment--and selflessly served others." Her words remind me of St. Paul's admonition: "You should be clothed in sincere compassion, in kindness and humility, gentleness and patience. Over all these clothes, to keep them together and complete, put on love" (Col 3:12&14). "Humility, simplicity, charity, and remember God is ever present." Each one of us probably takes notice of a different aspect of this statement, and may be struck differently another time. I return to St. Paul's words: "Love is always patient and kind, it is never jealous; love is never boastful or conceited; it is never rude or selfish; it does not take offense, and it is not resentful." These words challenge us in every area that we have reflected upon. Along with love's priority, we strive for simplicity, expressed in kindness and patience, and for humility to overcome jealousy and conceit. Reflecting on these vir- 67.3 2008 Metz ¯ .4 Charity Spirituality for Educators rues and living them is a lifelong pursuit. May we make progress in doing so a little bit more each day. Notes 1 Regina Bechde SC and Judith Metz SC, eds., Elizabeth Barley Seton: Collected Writings, 3 vols. (New York: New City Press, 2000, 2002, 2006), 2:154. z Seton: Collected Writings, 2:402. 3 William Shannon, Silence on Fire: Prayer of Awareness (New York: Crossroad, 1991), p. 73. 4 Seton: Collected Writings, 2:702. s Pierre Coste, ed., Correspondance, entretiens, documents (Paris: Gabalda, 1920-1925), vii, 289. 6 1809 Instructions, leaflet. 7 Jeremy Curtoys, Commencement Address, Tarleton State University, 16 December 2006. s Charles I. White, Life of Mrs. Eliza A. Seton (New York: Dunigan, 1853), p. 362. 9 Coste, IX, 606, and I, 284. 10 Coste, IX, 81. 1, Seton: Collected Writings, 3a:490. 12 Seton: Collected Writings, 3a:252. 13 First Council Book, 20 July 1818,.Sisters of Charity of St. Joseph (Emmitsburg, Maryland: St. Joseph Provincial House Archives). 14 Seton: Collected Writings, 1:362. is Seton: Collected Writings, 3 a: 193. 16 Louise Sullivan DC, ed., Spiritual Writings of Louise de Marillac (New York: New City Press, 1991). ,7 Coste, IX, 146. 18 Coste, Ix, 146. 19 Seton: C~llected Writings, 2:127. Review for Religious JOSEPH F. SCHMIDT St. Th r se's Contribution to the Catechism The Catechism of the Catholic Church was first published in the United States in 1994. It is the authoritative text for the catecheti-cal renewal called for by the Second Vatican Council. Surprisingly perhaps, St. Th4r~se of Lisieux (1873 - 1897), popularly known, as the Little Flower, is quoted six times in the text, more often than any other woman and more often than many theological and spiritual giants, including St. Teresa of Avila (quoted five times), St. John of the Cross and Cardinal Newman (quoted four times each); Saints Jerome, Benedict, Francis of Assisi, Catherine of Siena, and Ignatius Loyola (three times); Saints Bernard and Bonaventure (twice); being mentored Joseph E Schmidt FSC has written for this journal as far back as 1988. The author of three books, he is a staff mem-ber of the Sangre de Cristo Center (for international sab-baticals); 410 State Road 592; Santa Fe, New Mexico 87506. joeschmid t@newmexico.com 67.2 2008 Schmidt * St. Thdr~se's Contribution to the Catechism Saints John Cassian, Dominic, Alphonsus, and Francis de Sales (once). She is probably also the youngest per-son cited. Th~r~se's published works, from which the quo-tations in the Catechism are cited, are not extensive, although they exceed those of John of the Cross. Her writings, mostly letters, poems, and autobiographi-cal material, are not organized into any scholarly or thematic theological presentation, yet her teachings, including the cited quotations, are profound in their insights and accessible in their simplicity, and they offer a new and challenging look at the truth of the gospel. As Pope John Paul II said when he made her a doctor of the church in 1997, "One can say with conviction about Thdr~se of Lisieux that the Spirit of God allowed her heart to reveal directly to the people of our time the fundamental mystery, the reality of the gospel." "Her 'little way,' the pope continued, "is nothing other than the gospel way of holiness for all." In the Catechism, as is her "little way," Th~r~se has made a contribution to the church's understanding of the renewal envisioned by the council. Her citations in the Catechism pertain to the church's teaching on the contribution of human effort to our merit and sanctification (none), on the role of love in our sanctification (e~erything), on the power of the saints as intercessors in our sanctification (a lot), on the confidence that the faithful can have of dying into eternal life (complete), on the place that the four Gospels hold in the church (unique), and on her explanation of prayer in the Christian life (remarkable). Each citation is significant; we will consider in detail only Th~r~se's contribution on prayer. Review for Religdous Merit and Love In the article "Grace and Justification," which deals with the doctrine of merit in the Christian life, the Catechism quotes from Thgr~se's prayer, her "Act of Oblation to Merciful Love." Flowing from her spiritual maturity at the age of twenty-two, just two years before she died, this prayer expresses her understanding of the role of her weak human response to grace as well as God's gracious mercy in her sanctification and salvation. It has been called an expression, in prayer form, of her "little way." Understanding grace not as a God-given commod-ity, but as God's loving presence at the core of her I~eing, Thgr~se, in the time before her death, had come to the point of abandoning herself completely into the hands of God, her loving parent, aware of her weakness and placing no emphasis whatsoever on her own merits. She would, as she said, appear before God "with empty hands." This is the part of Thgr~se's "Act of Oblation to Merciful Love" quoted in the Catechism: After earth's exile, I hope to go and enjoy you in the fatherland, but I do not want to lay up merits for heaven. I want to work for your love alone . In the evening of this life, I shall appear before you with empty hands, for I do not ask you, Lord, to count my works. All our iustice is blemished in your eyes. I wish, then, to be clothed in your own justice and to receive from your love the eternal possession of yourself! (Catechism of the Catholic Church [CCC], §2011; see Story of a Soul [SS], trans. John Clarke, p. 277) The Catechism uses these words of Thgr&se to express the church's understanding that all our merit flows from the charity of Christ, who lives and acts in us by grace. Thgr~se's prayer is the culmination of the Catechism's presentation on the doctrine of merit, 67.3 2008 Scbmidt * St. Tb~r~se's Contribution to the Catechism emphasizing that merit is sheer divine gift. All the faith-ful are invited to appropriate this truth of Th~r~se's prayer. The Catechism also quotes Thrr~se in the section "The Church Is Holy." Love is the foundation of the holiness of the Christian and the heart of Christ's mysti-cal body, the Church. Thrr~se, at the end of her life, in meditating on this truth, expressed the significance of Iove in her life and in the life of every Christian. This is cited in the Catechism: If the church was a body composed of different members, it couldn't lack the noblest of all; it must have a Heart, and a Heart BURNING WITH LOVE. And I realized that this love alone was the true motive force which enabled the other members of the church to act; if it ceased to function, the Apostles would forget to preach the gospel, the Martyrs would refuse to shed their blood. LOVE, IN FACT, IS THE VOCATION WHICH INCLUDES ALL OTHERS; IT'S A UNIVERSE OF ITS OWN, COMPRISING ALL TIME AND SPACE-- IT'S ETERNAL! (CCC §826; see SS 194) In this reflection, Th6r~se understood her own voca-tion. She could not be a martyr or an apostle--both important members of the mystical body--but she could be the heart. She would be love in the mystical body, and thereby participate in and nourish the vocations of all those members who act on behalf of the church. "My vocation is love.t she exclaimed. Thus I shall be everything" (SS 194). Th6r~se's audacity in placing herself at the heart of love in the church was not because of her perfection of virtue, but rather because, in her very weakness and imperfection, she was boldly willing to be available to satisfy Love's own desire "to lower itself., to nothing-ness and transform this nothingness into fire" (SS 195). Review for Religious Thtr~se understood that her love of God was expressed by her complete availability to receive and radiate God's love of her. This made her weakness and powerless-ness an advantage because, in being available to God in ¯ "nothingness" and "littleness," it allowed God by stoop-ing down to manifest his infinite grandeur even more. The Catechism invites all the members of the church, in their present state as sinners, to receive and radiate God's love and, even with their limitations and weak-nesses, to share in Th6r~se's vocation to be love at the heart of the church. Death and Dying In the section "The Communion of Saints: The Communion of the Church of Heaven and Earth," the Catechism again cites some of Th~r~se's final words, encouraging all Christians to be assured that the saints intercede for the whole church. The Catechism men-tions Th~r~se's promise as she lay dying: "I want to spend my heaven in doing good on earth" (CCC $956; see Her Last Conversations, trans. John Clarke, p. 102). Over the years since her death in 1897, innumerable testimonies regarding Th~r~se's intercessory power con-firm that she continues to fulfill that promise. And the church assures us that this intercessory power is avail-able through all of the saints. The Catechism quotes some of Th~r~se's dying words in the section on the meaning of Christian death, suggesting that these words can truly be on the lips of every dying Christian. "I am not dying; I am entering life," she said (CCC §1011; see General Correspondence, trans. John Clarke, vol. 2, p. 128). She expressed a profound gospel truth with simplicity, but not without much personal struggle. 67.3 2008 Schmidt ¯ St. Thgrbse's Contribution to the Catechism 260 During her final days, Thgr&se endured excruci-ating physical pain and emotional anguish. Suffering the ravages of tuberculosis that had grown worse over eighteen months, she was also plagued by dark feelings that heaven did not exist, that only nothingness awaited her, that her immense desires to do good on earth after her death would never be realized, and that her life had been wasted. She also felt frightening temptations to suicide. Compounding all these dreadful feelings was her experience of being isolated from the nuns who attended her on her deathbed. She was fearful that, if she shared her distressing thoughts and feelings with them, she might blaspheme and cause scandal. Th~r~se's struggle in faith and her final understanding of her immanent death as "entering life" can become a source of encouragement and hope for anyone nearing death, especially for those who face their last days in pain, confusion, and darkness. Gospel and Prayer Thtr~se is also quoted in the Catechism in the section "The Canon of Scripture." She never had access to a com-plete Bible, but she made the sacred Scriptures that she did have, particularly the Gospels, a fundamental source for her prayer. Her words treasuring the Gospels are cited in the Catechism: "But above all, it's the Gospels that occupy my mind when I'm at prayer; my poor soul has so many needs, and yet this is the one thing needful. I'm always finding fresh lights there, hidden and enthralling mean-ings" (CCC §127; see SS 179). The Catechism invites all Christians, in imitation of Th~r~se, to find a source of prayer in the Scriptures, especially the Gospels. Th~r~se's contribution to Part Four of the Catechism, "Christian Prayer," is probably her most important. Review for Religious Until the publication of the Catechism, the definition of prayer that influenced most of the catechetical teaching in the church through the centuries is that of St. John Damascene. His definition, formulated at the beginning of the 8th century, was ordinarily presented in earlier catechisms in this simplified form: "Prayer is the lifting up or raising up of the mind and heart to God." St. John Damascene's full definition is retained in the Catechism, but is now placed after Th6rbse's expres-sion of prayer. The Catechism asks, What Is Prayer? Th6r~se's description of prayer is given as the answer: "For me, prayer is a surge of the heart; it is a simple look turned toward heaven, it is a cry of recognition and of love, embracing both trial and joy" (CCC §2558; see SS 242). Th6r~se's description of prayer is remarkable in at least six specific ways. In the first place, it shows her personal and invitational way of expressing her teaching. She does not define prayer didactically, but says what prayer is "for me." Her understanding of prayer comes from her own experience, and she shares her insight as a personal statement that might also be of assistance to others. She says she knows "there are really more dif-ferences among souls than there are among faces" (SS 239). By retaining Th6r~se's phrase "for me" as part of its definition of prayer, the Catechism suggests that the church respects the deeply personal and unique quality of the Holy Spirit's prayer in each person. St. John Damascene's full definition is retained in the Catechism, but is now placed after Thdr~se's expression of prayer. 261 67.3 2008 Scbmidt ¯ St. Tbdrkse's Contribution to the Catechism Second, in this definition of prayer, Th~r~se incon-spicuously and successfully combines in simple language the three traditional forms of prayer: affective prayer or prayer using short aspirations or devotional formulas, contemplative prayer or prayer of centering and simple attention, and reflective prayer or meditation. Th6r~se refers to affective prayer as "a surge of the heart." She describes contemplative prayer as "a simple glance turned toward heaven," and identifies reflective prayer as "a cry of recognition and of love, embracing both trial and joy." Third, by saying that prayer is "a surge of the heart," Th6rEse shifts the metaphor of prayer. From John Damascene's more humanly effortful, even stereo-typically masculine, image of "lifting up the mind and heart to God," Th~r~se has moved to the cooperative, even stereotypically feminine, attitude of allowing her heart, moved by the Holy Spirit of love, to surge with that Love in return. Fourth, while not excluding the possibility that reflective prayer would include the sacred Scriptures, a practice dear to her heart, Th~r~se does not refer to Scripture in her definition. Rather she alerts us to the fact that in her reflective, meditative prayer she has embraced her lived experience of both pain and happi-ness, "trial and joy." She uses her ordinary experience to deepen her relationship with God. Her very life is for her the place to find God, to be available to God, and the place from which to utter her cry to God. She includes in her description of prayer a faith-filled atti-tude of acceptance and a grace-filled attitude of surren-der in the trials and joys of everyday life. One's own experiences as the place from which prayer surges are, of course, the way of prayer pictured Review for Religious for us in the lives of the holy men and women of the Scriptures, of the prophets, and indeed of Mary and Jesus. It is here that one gains a deeper understanding of the mystery of divine love. This is the way ordinary Christians throughout the centuries have intuitively prayed, reflecting on their lived experiences, searching for divine providence in the unfolding of their lives. Th~r~se's description of prayer explicitly validates this intuitive way of praying as % cry of recognition and of love embracing both trial and joy" in people's ordinary daily life. Fifth, by including the idea that loving and hon-est reflection on her ordinary life experiences has been for her a form of prayer, Th~r~se shifts people's under-standing of prayer away from "saying prayers" from a prayer book to the idea that prayer is a matter of "prayerful-ness." Thdr~se herself, of course, used a prayer book for her prayer. She recited the Divine Office with her sisters in Carmel as the usual form of her community prayer. But, when she prayed privately and alone, she often dispensed with prayers from a book and simply reflected on her own experiences, searching for God's meaning and love in those experiences. She wrote: It is not necessary to read from a book some beauti-ful formula composed for the occasion. If this were the case, alas, I would have to be pitied! Outside the Thdr~se shifts people's understanding of prayer away from "saying prayers " from a prayer book to the idea that prayer is a matter of "prayerfulness." 263 67.3 2008 Scbmidt ¯ St. Tb~rkse's Contribution to the Catechism Divine Office, which I am very unworthy to recite, I do not have the courage to force myself to search out beautiful prayers in books. There are so many of them it really gives me a headache! And each prayer is more beautiful than the others. I cannot recite them all and, not knowing which to choose, I do like children who do not know how to read. I say very simply to God what I wish to say, without compos-ing beautiful sentences, and he always understands me. (SS 242) Her conversation with God extended throughout the day, about the things of the day, in mindfulness and prayerfulness. Sixth, Th6r~se has expanded the idea of prayer to embrace, as she hopedl a whole legion of little souls in her spirituality. She does this by offering a description of prayer that, while explicitly mentioning "heaven," does not explicidy mention God, Spirit, or Jesus. For her, of course, "heaven" was the eternal embrace of her loving God, Jesus was her beloved with whom she would share eternal life, and the Spirit was the surge of prayer itself. By not mentioning God, Spirit, or Jesus, how-ever, Th~r~se allows her way of prayer to be embraced by those who, without faith in God or knowledge of Jesus or the Spirit, sincerely search for meaning, love, and truth in their life. She has expanded the domain of prayer, thereby permitting an ecumenical and interreli-gious openness that allows the Catholic understanding of prayer to be included in every dialogue on prayer or religion, even with unbelievers. It extends the common ground on which spirituality can be discussed, an exten-sion much needed in our day. These six nuances in the new description of prayer contained in the Catechism of the Catholic Church contribute significantly to the understanding of prayer Review for Religious today. St. John Damascene died around 750. His defini-tion of prayer has had an influence on the teaching of the church for twelve hundred and fifty years, and still remains an important way of understanding prayer. If TMr?~se's definition has the same centuries-long influ-ence before Catholics and others need a new definition, they will be living in the fourth millennium, about the year 3250. Th~r?~se's definition of prayer is only one element of her contribution to the Catechism and only a small part of her spiritual legacy, but even that small part may be more enduring than people have yet imagined. Farmer God I am afield o on which you scatter seed. If some hungry sparrows come to feed upon some grains before they germinate, let it be - sparrows too depend upon your prodigality. But 0 my God, allow enough of me to grow and ripen in your summer love. Before the harvest mow, let warm winds blow across this sea of wheat that I may show your beauty at your feet. Irene Zimmerman OSF 265 67.3 2008 ALEXANDER T. POCETTO De Sales' Vision of Ecclesial and Consecrated Life d chief contribution of St. Francis de Sales (1567- 1622) to the church was to remind people that the call to holiness is addressed not only to religious and clerics, but to everyone. (To deny this, he said, is a heresy.)1 Vatican Council II'S document "The Church in the Modern World" has given added impetus to this basic truth. It is so widely accepted today that it seems to detract from the worth of the religious life? Is it any wonder, then, that people, especially the young, are asking themselves, "If all are called to sanctity and the council urges laypeople to seek it in and through ordinary life, why bother to become a religious?" In recent decades we have seen a marvelous devel-opment in the theology of marriage, and many have acquired a deeper understanding of the Christian mean-ing of conjugal love and fidelity, especially as a sign Alexander T. Pocetto OSFS is currently the Salesian Scholar in the Salesian Center for Faith and Culture of De Sales University; 2755 Station Avenue; Center Valley, Pennsylvania 18034. alexander. pocetto@desales.edu. Review far Religious of Christ's sacrificial love for the church. If the sacra-ment of matrimony has such dignity and nobility, why renounce it in favor of the religious life? Charitable works of many kinds are no longer per-formed almost exclusively by religious. The state and private individuals have practically taken over these activi-ties. Highly qualified, competent, and dedicated laypeople are spending their lives for the poor, the destitute, the mentally ill, the castoffs of society. As a result, many peo-ple ask themselves, "Why enter the religious life if I can perform these apostolic works as a dedicated layperson?" Moreover, some argue that laypeople, since they are actu-ally engaged in worldly affairs, are in a much better posi-tion to suffuse these activities with the love of Christ. In addition to all of this, a number of religious con-gregations, not adapting to the times, seem to have lost their raison d'etre. Nowadays few young people seem challenged and inspired by them, especially in the more industrialized countries of Europe and North America. Given these developments, can we conceive of the church without the religious or consecrated life? Is the religious life as a form of holiness the victim of an evo-lution in the church? Is it going to disappear, giving way to newer forms of holy living? In other words, has the religious life served its purpose, and is it now to be discarded like an old shoe? The church does not think so. Vatican II, however, asks us to deepen our understanding of the religious state in the life of the church. We cannot do this by examining hierarchical and juridical structures, for they do not reveal the necessity of the religious life. We must go back to the New Testament, particularly the Gospels, to understand what place Christ had in mind for reli-gious life when he founded the church. 267 67.3 2008 Pocetto ¯ DeSales' ~on of Ecclesial and Consecrated Life The Church and Religious/Consecrated Life The first two chapters of John's Gospel are revealing in this regard. The call of the first disciples is placed immediately after the hymn in praise of the incarnation and the witness of John the Baptist. Christ first calls his disciples and then accompanies them to a wedding feast at Cana. It seems that everything takes place to tell us that, when Christ began to establish his church, he set up two states--that of Christian marriage, inaugurated at Cana, and the consecrated life, inaugurated by the call of the disciples. John mentions the time, about four in the afternoon, when two of John's disciples decided to stay with Jesus that day--perhaps implying that the Sabbath was at hand; in any case, the detail gives a spe-cial significance to their staying with him. Their answer to "Come and see" marks the first time that disciples gathered around Jesus. But, as Mark points out, disciples did not gather exclusively for the mission of preaching, but to stay close to Jesus as companions and to go out preaching at his command: "He appointed twelve, to be with him, and to be sent out to preach" (Mk 3:14). The characteristics elements of this following of Christ are these: (1) complete submission to him, (2) renouncement of material goods, (3) life in common with him, and (4) a close and intimate association with his work of redemption--his apostolic mission. In these we can see the pattern of religious life: "union with Christ through obedience, chastity, poverty, common life, and dedication to the apostolate.''3 The religious life encompasses more than the three traditional evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience, They derive their value, importance, and significance from complete, immediate, and exclusive attachment to Jesus. One might object that the three Review for Religious vows include this attachment: they take it for granted. This is true, but it is poor pedagogy to let what is pri-mary be only implicit in what is explicitly expressed. If we reduce the religious life to the three vows, we will have difficulty making it relevant to the church's life and work today. Other elements deserve equal emphasis: total dedication to Christ, community life, and dedication to the apostolate. From the very begin-nings of the church, Jesus' followers have been characterized by their preferential love of him, by their community life, and by their apostolic zeal. "The Savior wanted the conse-crated life of his disciples and of his women followers to form the cornerstone of his church, the very first stone. "4 By a careful and prayerful examination of Scripture, we will be able to see that the religious life is a natural way of living the gospel to the full. One sign of the church in its fullness, St. Francis de Sales pointed out, is the presence of religious orders and congregations. "The true church ought to shine in the perfection of the Christian life; not so that everybody in the church is bound to follow it; it is enough that it be found in some notable members and parts, in order that nothing may be written or counseled in vain and that the church may make use of all the parts of Holy Scripture.''s In the saint's view, a full and complete vision of the church can be had only when there are people in it living con- The religious life encompasses more than the three traditional evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience. 269 67.3 2008 Pocetto ¯ DeSales' I~ion of Ecdesial and Consecrated Life 27_0] secrated lives. This visibility is necessary for the believ-ability of the church, even in today's world. The tendency in the past was to stress the verti-cal aspect of Christianity, personal union with Christ-- "Jesus and I" or "me and God." This obscured somewhat the ecclesial and communal aspects of Catholic life and religious life and the community's (horizontal) role in life and in evangelization. To understand better the place of consecrated life in the church today, we have to see it in the light of covenant theology. Religious Life and Covenant Theology God's plan of salvation is expressed as a covenant between God and human beings. In describing the nature of the church, Francis de Sales comments, "It is for a good reason that the Christian people are called a church or a convocation, because the first privilege that God bestows on man to put him in the state of grace is to call him to the church."6 Our very first privilege is to be joined to the covenant community of the church. It is no wonder, then, that Francis tells us that by baptism, which inserts us into the community of the church, we become "the ark of the covenant.''7 The new covenant was not made between individu-als but between Christ and the whole group of his dis-ciples, a community destined to regroup all of humanity in unity. The details of Pentecost mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles, the violent wind and the tongues of fire, recall similarities and parallels in the Sinai covenant (see Ac 2:2-3). In the Old Testament, the new covenant was foretold and described in terms of a marriage covenant. Francis de Sales emphasizes this in his explanation of the church's perpetuity. This idea is so central to this study that the pertinent passage needs to be cited at length: Review for Religious The glorious secretary of God says in this place (Rv 21:2) that the church is a new city, decked out by God as a bride for her bridegroom. Now just try to imagine . . . what kind of a bride she would be if she were fashioned according to the wish and desire of her groom. If the bridegroom were to fashion her as he wished, I believe that he would make her the most beautiful, the most virtuous, the healthiest, and the most long-lived that one could imagine. For there is no love like that of husband towards his wife . I ask you, would it be fitting for our Lord to have shed his blood to reconcile his church to God, his Father, and then to forsake this church in the end so that she is devastated? Certainly such a mediator merits an endless peace, a very close covenant, about which Isaiah says, speak-ing of Christianity: "I will make a perpetual cov-enant with them.''8 This text not only illuminates Francis's teaching on the church, but on the religious life and marriage as well. He uses the exact same expression--"a very close covenant" (une alliance estroitte)--in the chap-ter on marriage in the Introduction to the Devout Life.9 The Old Testament prophets like Hosea, Jeremiah, and Isaiah were fond of describing the new covenant in terms of conjugal union and fidelity. For them mar-riage was the inspiration for a full understanding of it. The covenant in the New Testament, however, gets its inspiration not from marriage but from the marriage of Christ to humanity, that is, from the incarnation and its consummation in Christ's death and resurrection--his Passover. St. Paul makes this clear when he writes to the Ephesians, "Husbands, love your wives as Christ loved the church" (5:25). Here he envisions the church as the bride of Christ and redemption as the act of love par excellence, the model of conjugal love. 271 67.3 2008 Pocetto ¯ DeSales' ~tsion of Ecclesial and Consecrated Life 272 The church's loving response and fidelity to Christ are admirably realized in the life of consecrated virgins. Virginal consecration is the integral expression of fun-damental marks of the church--covenant community, mutual union, zeal for the apostolate. This is Francis de Sales' perspective when preaching to the Calvinists. The religious life is a sign of the presence of Christ's fullness, a sign of the church in its perfection. This suggests how necessary consecrated life is to the church. Without it the church would not be the covenant community; it would not be a full mirroring of Christ. Eeclesial Dimensions of the Religious Life In founding the Visitation congregation, Francis de Sales evidently had this truth in mind. In his preface to the Visitation constitutions, he explains that bish-ops in the early church continued what the apostles had started with regard to virgins and widows. They looked after those especially who "by a special inspira-tion were called to the state of consecrated chastity.''1° Francis notes that these were of two kinds--those who lived in community and those who lived at home. He carefully lists the testimony of Fathers of the church who witnessed to various assemblies of virgins and widows consecrated to God. If we remember that the word "assembly" is his favorite word for the church, the ecclesial relevance of his conception of the reli-gious life become more evident. In fact, he wanted the Visitation to have its official beginning on the Feast of Pentecost. He takes pains to show the apostolic ori-gins of the religious life. He says: "St. Ignatius, disciple of the apostles, wrote to the Philippians, 'I greet the assembly of virgins and the congregation of widows,' and moreover herequests that the people of Tarsus Review for Religious honor virgins 'as consecrated to God' and widows as the altar or 'sanctuary of God.'" ~1 Of course, we have to avoid a strict parallel between the state of virgins and consecrated widows with that of the religious life inasmuch as "virginity founds the order of virgins and not the religious life as such.''12 Eventually the state of virgins and widows coalesced with historical developments in religious life, yet they have separate identities: "Religious life requires and consecrates not so much virginity as chastity.''~3 As Francis sees it, the believability of celibacy is closely linked to the believability of the church. This helps us to understand the unique place of the vow of chastity in the Salesian conception of the religious life. Before the Visitation became a religious order, the only vow that was taken before the oblation was that of chas-tity: "Since the fundamental vow of this congregation is made expressly and formally of perpetual chastity and continence, it is not necessary to declare how much all the sisters are obliged to it; for in a word they must belong completely to God their Spouse.''~4 This article should be compared with an earlier one on the vows: "All those who are to receive the veil will make the simple vow [of chastity] immediately before they pres-ent themselves for the holy oblation. But, with regard to the vows of poverty .and obedience, they shall only be made upon the advice of the spiritual father and with the permission of the superior.''~5 We get a deeper insight into Francis de Sales' understanding of chastity in the church in a letter to a young lady who later became a Visitandine: "Consider how agreeable the virtue of chastity is to God and the angels because he wanted it to be eternally observed in heaven, where there will no longer be any kind of carnal 273 67.3 2008 Pocetto ¯ DeSales' l~sion of Ecclesial and Consecrated Life pleasures nor marriages. Will you not be happy to begin in this world the life you will continue eternally in the next? Praise God, then, for having given you this holy inspiration.''~6 Today, with all the talk about the sanctity, nobil-ity, and dignity of conjugal love and the sacrament of matrimony and with the consequent attacks on priestly celibacy, and indeed on all kinds of dedicated celibacy, as affecting and deforming human personality, many people are uncom-fortable with this eschatological value of chastity. The world looks upon us as freaks of bygone ages. "After all," some say, "marriage is a sacrament and celi-bacy is not." What Francis has to say about the com-plete consecration achieved by this vow will shed further light on the matter. In the letter mentioned above, he continues, "[This virtue] makes our body sacred and gives us the comfort of belonging completely to his divine Majesty--heart, body, mind, and sentiment.''~7 So Francis does not view it merely as a consecration of our bodies, but as a complete attachment to Christ involving the whole person. Marriage is the sign and image, the sacrament, of the relationship between Christ and his church. "It is to be admitted without scandal or resentment that marriage, even though a sacrament, is no more than a sacrament; it is a sign of the love of Christ and is nourished by his grace; but marriage does that under carnal conditions Marriage is the sign and image, the sacrament, of the relationship between Christ and his church. Review for Religious which Christ will abolish in his final reality and which he sanctifies only to teach us how to surpass them. ¯ This is what medieval thinkers meant when they said that marriage 'signified' the union of Christ and the church but did not 'contain' it.''~8 But this otherworldliness or eschatological character of the religious life does not militate against a genuine interest in the secular city. In fact, its genuineness can be judged only by the life of service to others that one undertakes here on this earth. Francis de Sales' teach-ing on this is clear. He sees necessary contact with the world as important for religious. In his mind, there is no essential conflict between the life of contemplation and that of the apostolate or the active life, as is clear when he states the purpose of the Visitation: "Inasmuch as this congregation has two principal exercises--the one contemplation and prayer, which is practiced mainly in the house, the other the service of the poor and the sick ¯. --it has fittingly chosen as patron Our Lady of the Visitation, because in this mystery the most glorious Virgin performed that solemn act of charity toward the neighbor of going to visit and serve St. Elizabeth in her pregnancy and composed nonetheless the canticle of the Magnificat, the sweetest, the most elevated, the most spiritual and contemplative prayer that has ever been written." 19 The authenticity of our contemplative prayer is seen in how we relate to others: "It is necessary to meditate and to contemplate only insofar as it is required to per-form our duties well, each according to our vocation. . . Do you want to know whether you have prayed well and whether you have kissed our Lord with the kiss of the mouth? See if you have a heart full of kind and charitable affections toward your neighbor, if your heart 275 67.3 2008 Pocetto ¯ DeSales' l~wion of Ecclesial and Consecrated Life 276 is disposed to help him in all his needs and to put up with him lovingly on all kinds of occasions.''2° At this point it is important to point out once and for all that Francis de Sales gave in to Cardinal Marquemont's demand to change the Visitation from a congregation with simple vows to a religious order with solemn vows because he felt that, without his sup-port and approval, the Visitation could not be estab-lished in France. Bear in mind that Marquemont was influential and a close friend of Louis XIII. Francis revealed his true reasons for this change not in his let-ter to Marquemont,2~ but in a letter to Mother Favre, the superior of the Visitation monastery in Lyons. After mentioning that Marquemont wanted to see the Visitation become a religious order, Francis says: "Now my feeling was that it would be better [to leave] it a simple congregation, where only love and fear of the Spouse would serve as a cloister, with the withdrawal that is suitable to and required by such assemblies, as we have put it in the Rules. But, since what this con-gregation can hope to receive in all of France depends upon the good reception that the Reverend Archbishop [Marquemont] will give it in his city, I consent that it be changed into a religious order.''22 The entire let-ter makes it abundantly clear that he went along with Marquemont for very practical reasons. Let us, then, bury once and for all the assertion that he did this through obedience to his metropolitan, Archbishop Marquemont. His metropolitan was the archbishop of Vienne and not Marquemont. Even though de Sales decided to give in to Marquemont, there are two things that he would not accept. First, he would not change the name from the Visitation to the Presentation, as Marquemont Review for Religious requested.23 To Marquemont he gives juridical reasons to satisfy the cardinal's legalistic mind. His real reason is that the name and the mystery of the Visitation is tied to its very nature and purpose, that is, to the nature of the religious life as he conceived it. Second, he used every trick in the book to obtain a modified cloister or enclosure so that, if the sisters could not go out into the world, the world, at least in the personae of women who were disturbed, could come and spend some time in the monastery to regain their peace of soul and mind. In this way the sisters could still serve the poor: "Inasmuch as the con-gregation must hold in high esteem char-ity and solicitude for the poor and inasmuch as there is no greater poverty than that of the soul, it will be permitted to receive in the house not only for a day, but for several days, as many as required, women who either need consolation or need to prepare themselves for a general confession or to amend their lives.''24 Along this line, it is helpful to remember that some of the sisters taught catechism in the cloister to the young ladies of Annecy. For Francis, another consequence of the eschato-logical meaning of the religious life is that it stresses the importance of the covenant community's com-munal life. In his correspondence with the Barnabite Dom Just Gu4rin, he tells him to use every resource The name and the mystery of the Visitation is tied to its very nature and purpose, that is, to the nature of the religious life as he conceived it. 277 67.3 2008 Pocetto ¯ DeSales' l/~ion of Ecclesial and Consecrated Life 278] to obtain permission for the sisters to say the Little Office of the Blessed Mother.25 He felt strongly that, if the Visitandine nuns were obliged to recite the Divine Office as all cloistered nuns were obliged to do in those days, they would not be able to accept the sick and infirm and so would lose the charismatic character of making present on earth the church in heaven: "It seems that, according to the parable [of the Wedding Banquet, Lk 14:16-21], [St. Augustine, in his Rule] makes room in the religious life not only for the hale and hearty, but also for the sick, the lame, and the blind, so that like the nuptial feast of the heavenly Spouse his home may be filled with guests."26 Francis's original purpose in establishing the Visitation is what struck the people of his day. It was an ecclesial sign representing to them the kingdom of God on earth. Vghile on his second journey to Paris, Francis discussed the Visitation with laypeople who were in the party. The observation that the nobleman Albert de Gen~ve made is extremely enlightening: "In this regard, he used to say to u~ that religious life is like the banquet of the prince in the Gospel, where no one should be refused admittance, where even the ordi-nary citizen, the blind, the cripple, is to be admitted. All these things stuck out in my mind because I had seen by experience all that he foretold [about the religious life] in the great perfection which reigned in this monastery [of the Visitation of Annecy]."27 Inasmuch as it is eschatological, religious life points to and makes present, to a certain degree, the life to be lived in heaven. It is like the wedding banquet of the Gospels. In Francis's mind, life in heaven is a com-munal one. Of the communion of saints in heaven, he says, "They give to one another [indescribable] content- Review for Religious ment and live in the consolation of a happy and indis-soluble union.''2s The eschatological, communal, and ecclesial aspects of the religious or consecrated life are, for Francis, inextricably intertwined, and that is how the saintly doctor of love expounds them. His vision can revitalize religious life today by supplanting the exaggerated individualism that threatens to diminish or destroy it. Notes ~ Francis de Sales, Introduction to the Devout Life, trans, and ed. John K. Ryan (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1950), Part I, chap. 3. 2 See Jean Galot sJ, "Why Religious Life?" Review for Religious 24 (May 1965): 505-517. 3 Galot, "Why," p. 508. 4 Galot, "why," p. 509. 5 Francis de Sales, The Catholic Controversy, trans. Henry Benedict Mackey OSB (Rockford, Illinois: TAN Books and Publishers, 1989), p. 199. This posthumously published work is more aptly rifled "Meditations on the Church." See Elisabeth Stopp, "Meditations on the Church (1595-96)," in A Man to Heal Differences: Essays and Talks on St. Francis de Sales (Philadelphia: St. Joseph's Univ. Press, 1997), pp. 51-74. 6 Francois de Sales, Oeuvres de Saint Fran¢ois de Sales, ~dition Complkte (Annecy: Monast~re de la Visitation, 1892-1964), 27 vols, vol. 1, pp. 42-43. Hereafter OEA. 7 Francis de Sales, Treatise on the Love of God, trans. John K. Ryan (Stella Niagara, N.Y.: De Sales Resource Center, 2007), I, p. 209. s Sermon on the Perpetuity of the Church, OEA, 7, pp. 215-222, here pp. 215 and 217. 9 De Sales, Introduction, Part 3, chap. 38. Unfortunately, Ryan trans-lates the French word "alliance" as "alliance" instead of "covenant," which it obviously means if we understand the term as used in the ser-mon cited above. ~0 OEA, 25, p. 294. u OEA, 25, pp. 3-4. ~2 Gustave Martelet SJ, "The Church's Holiness and Religious Life" (Part 2), Review for Religious 25 (January 1966): 33. ~3 Martelet, "Church's Holiness" (Part 2), p. 33. 279 67.3 2008 Pocetto * DeSales' V'~on of Ecclesial and Consecrated Life ~40EA, 25, p. 369-370. ~5 OEA, 25, p. 245. ~60EA, 14, p. 18-19. ~7 OEA, 14, p. 19. ~s Gustave Martelet SJ, "The Church's Holiness and Religious Life" (Part 1), Review for Religious 24 (November 1965): 901. Part 3 was published in the March 1966 issue, pp. 246-268. These three articles are the late R.aymond L. Sullivant SJ's translation from Martelet's book Saintetd de l'Eglise et Vie Religieuse (Toulouse: ~ditions Pri~re et Vie, 1964). ~90EA, 25, p. 214. 20 OEA, 9, pp. 466-467. 2~ See OEA, 25, pp. 333-342. 2z OEA, 17, p. 139. 23 See OEA, 25, p. 340. 24 OF~, 25, p. 220. 25 See OEA, 18, pp. 140, 186, 195. 26 OEA, 25, p. 53. 27 Deposition of Albert de Gen~ve, Archives of the Annecy Visitation Monastery, fol. 763. 28 De Sales, Introduction, Part 1, chap. 16. 280] Rose Window A greatflower glows in the stone welcoming light with every petal, turning in circles of blue, yellow, rose, transplanted here from some celestial meadow to bloom in the house of God. Kate Martin OSC Review for Religious JOHN CARROLL FUTRELL Christian Prayer's Trinitarian Shape Prayer as a human activity is making ourselves present to the presence of God within us, so that we can recognize God's presence in everyone and everything around us. To pray we must make the human effort to respond to God's constant coming to us. We are taught in the New Testament that we should always pray in the name of Jesus, remembering always that the Holy Spirit comes to help us to go to the Father. We are called to go through Jesus to the Father, as the Holy Spirit moves us to pray. The Holy Spirit dwells in our own spirit, and our own spirits are illuminated by the Holy Spirit--through the Holy Spirit's activity in our spirit. If we feel moved to it, a good way to pray is consciously to focus our prayer: it always is meant to take us to our creator, the Father, who praying 281 John Carroll Futrell SJ has written for this journal for fifty years. His address is 3601 Lindell Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63108. 67.3 2008 Futrell ¯ Christian Prayer's Trinitarian Shape 282 seeks to draw us through Jesus' loving heart. At Jesus' baptism, "while he was praying, heaven was opened and the Holy Spirit came down upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, 'You are my own dear Son. I am pleased with you'" (Lk 3:21-22). After facing Satan's temptations, Jesus "returned to Galilee, and the power of the Holy Spirit was with him" (Lk 4:14). Just before choosing the Twelve Aposdes, Jesus "went up a hill to pray and spent the whole night there praying to God" (Lk 5:12). Through a parable, once again Jesus teaches us to "ask, and you will receive, seek and you will find, knock and the door will be opened to you." Jesus insists that "the Father in heaven [will] give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him" (Lk 5:9 and 13). In a few passages of the Gospels, Jesus actually teaches us about the trinitarian shape of all Christian prayer. He promises that "when the Spirit comes, who reveals the truth about God, he will lead you into all truth. He will not speak on his own authority, but he will speak of what he hears and will tell you of things to come. He will give me glory, because he will take what I say and tell it to you. All that my Father has is mine; that is why I said that the Spirit will take what I give him and tell it to you" (Jn 16:13-15). Again Jesus said to the Aposdes, "The Father will give you whatever you ask of him in my name. Until now you have not asked for anything in my name; ask and you will receive, so that your happiness may be complete." In a passage of John's Gospel, Jesus powerfully reveals his relationship to the Father in the Holy Trinity when he says: "Father, the hour has come. Give glory to your Son, so that the Son may give glory to you. For you gave him author-ity over all humanity, so that he might give eternal life Review for Religious to all those you gave him. And eternal life means to know you, the only true God, and to know Jesus Christ, whom you have sent. I have shown your glory on earth. I have finished the work you gave me to do. Father, give me glory in your presence now, the same glory I had with you before the world was made" On 17:1-5). "I pray for them. I do not pray for the world, but for those you gave me out of the world. They belonged to you and you gave them to me" (Jn 17:9). Building upon the gospel revelation, St. Paul con-tinues to teach us the trinitarian shape of all Christian prayer. In Romans 8:9-11 he says: "You do not live as your human nature tells you to; instead, you live as the Spirit tells you to--if, in fact, God's Spirit lives in you. Whoever does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him. But, if Christ lives in you, the Spirit is life for you, because you have been put right with God, even though your bodies are going to die because of sin." In another passage from Romans, Paul tells us: "Those who are led by God's Spirit are God's sons. For the Spirit that God has given you does not make you slaves and cause you to be afraid; instead the Spirit makes you God's children, and by the Spirit's power we cry out to God, 'Father, my Father!' God's Spirit joins himself to our spirits to declare that we are God's children" (Rm 8:14- 16). Paul rejoices that "neither the world above nor the world below--there is nothing in all creation that will ever be able to separate us from the love of God which is ours through Christ Jesus our Lord" (Rm 8:39). To the Ephesians, Paul insists that we should present everything to God in prayer, "asking for God's help. Pray on every occasion as the Spirit leads" (Ep 6:16-18). Paul exhorts the Philippians "not to worry about anything, but in all your prayers ask God for what 283 67.3 2008 Futrell ¯ Christian Pr.ayer's Trinitarian Shape In the four Gospels,, Jesus teaches us to pray chiefly by modeling prayer rather than by giving lessons. you need, always asking him with a thankful heart" (Ph 14:6). In the four Gospels, Jesus teaches us to pray chiefly by modeling prayer rather than by giving lessons. When asked specifically to teach people to pray, Jesus gives them the Our Father (Mt 6:9-13, Mk 11:25-26, Lk 11:22-24). Luke says, "Jesus told his disciples a parable [the widow and the judge] to teach them that they should always pray and never become discouraged" (Lk 18:1). Through his own example, Jesus shows us impor-tant times to pray. When performing the great miracle of the multiplica-tion of loaves and fishes, Jesus "looked up to heaven and gave thanks to God" (Mt 14:18-19, Mk 6:41, Lk 9:15-17). During his great suffering in the Agony in the Garden, Jesus prayed that God would take away this chalice of pain, but "not my will but yours be done" (Mt 6:36-46, Mk 14:32-40, Lk 22:39-46). Jesus promises that "God will judge in their favor his own people who will cry out to him day and night for help" (Lk 18:9). And Jesus practiced what he preached. He "went to lonely places to pray" (Lk 5:16). He "prayed all night" (Lk 5:12). At the Last Supper when instituting the Eucharist, Jesus "gave thanks to God" (Mr 26:28-30, Mk 14:22-26, Lk 22:14-23). At the Transfiguration, when Jesus shows Peter, James, and John his glory, we are shown the place of Jesus in the Trinity when the Father's voice is heard 284} Review for Religious from heaven saying: "This is my Son whom I have cho-sen. Listen to him" (Lk 9:29-36). Throughout Christian revelation, the three Persons of the Holy Trinity are shown to be one God; this deter-mines the shape of all Christian prayer to God. Through the Gospels we are shown that Christian prayer must be offered through Jesus Christ to the Father and that the very possibility of prayer depends upon openness to the Holy Spirit, who illuminates our spirits and moves us to pray. This is why all Christian prayer has a trinitarian shape, whether the ones praying are conscious of this or not. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion 1. To Whom do I pray when I address prayer to God? 2. How does Scripture affect my way of praying? 3. "The Eucharist models our Christian way of praying." Has this statement been true in my own way of praying? 4. What would I say is distinct about our Christian way of praying from other religious traditions? 285 67.3 2008 PHILIP SHANO Midnight Prayer in the Ignatian Exercises p ercy Bysshe Shelley wrote of "profoundest mid-ight." He sums upwhat many other writers have described--a midnight hour that speaks to us more deeply, more intimately, than the daytime hours. Such an hour can nourish those hungering for God. Thus, "midnight prayer" is a significant part of the dis-cipline St. Ignatius Loyola calls for in the Twentieth Annotation experience of his Spiritual Exercises, when people withdraw for a month from their normal activi-ties and personal relationships. Ignatius says in a note immediately before the additional directions, "The First Exercise will be made at midnight" (SpEx §72). He refers again to the midnight prayer a few other times in the Exercises. He does not spell out why this exercise is so significant. Philip Shano SJ, a Canadian Jesuit who spent twelve years in retreat work at Loyola House in Guelph, Ontario, is novice director and superior at the Jesuit Novitiate; 1035 Summit Avenue; Saint Paul, Minnesota 55105. Review for Religious Many a contemporary director either refuses to recommend this practice to retreatants or is so blas~ in mentioning it that retreatants do not see its value. These directors see it as a pass~ practice, out of place in the contemporary world. Or, worse, they see it as one of Ignatius's recommended penitential practices. It is nei-ther pass~ nor penitential. These directors are depriving retreatants of one of the many helpful practices recom-mended by Ignatius. Along with elements in the Annotations and Additions, Ignatius's point in suggesting midnight prayer is about making the retreatants' environment conducive to the serious and life-changing graces he wants them to receive during the thirty days. The early directories of the Exercises consider midnight prayer important in the daily pattern of the retreat. In a parenthetical com-ment, the official directory of 1599 states the reason for midnight prayer--"a time most helpful for meditation because of its quiet and deep silence." It says, "Those who wish to make the Exercises in full form and who have the strength for it will generally spend five hours each day in meditation: the 1st about midnight (a time most helpful for meditation because of its quiet and deep silence), the 2nd at daybreak, the 3rd a little before dinner, the 4th in the afternoon, and the 5th in the late afternoon.''1 Mealtimes vary from culture to culture, but the point about the quiet and silence of midnight cuts across cultures. Even those who stay up late and would never describe themselves as prayerful know the power of midnight's "quiet and deep silence." It is probably one of the most common times for creative writing. There is something about prayer and reflection in the late night or early morning that fosters the power of the imagination. As Ignatius said, directors should take 287 67.3 2008 Shano ¯ Midnight Prayer in the Ignatian Exercises account of the retreatants' differences of personality and energy. Most of those who make the full Exercises are being called to the life of discipline recommended by Ignatius. Directors, however, can work with them to determine if their sleep needs suggest that they should forgo the interruption that midnight prayer entails. Regrettably, many directors assume that their retreatants will find midnight prayer difficult and so they do not recommend it. One of the most common and misguided assump-tions about midnight prayer during the thirty-day retreat is that the practice is peni-tential. Directors should notice that, if ~ Ignatius connected midnight prayer with penance, he probably would have said something about it in his section on penance (SpEx §§82- 87). He does speak of the importance of sleep (§84), but he says nothing about the times of prayer as a form of penance. The practice of midnight prayer has been dropped by many contemporary directors of the Spiritual Exercises. The assumption that midnight prayer is penitential is not just incorrect; it fosters the contemporary watering-down of the Exercises. It misses one of Ignatius's main aims in his intense experience of the disciplined spiritual life, namely, the constant need to dispose retreatants to receive the graces sought. The Additions and other points in the Exercises stress the There, is something about prayer and reflection' in the late night or,, early morning that fosters ~he power of the imagination. 2,88 Review for Religious importance of the surrounding environment--the place where one has a room, the view from the window, and so on. The hours of prayer, too, can add to the helpful disposition of the retreatants. Many directors who recommend the midnight meditation speak to their retreatants about asking their guardian angel to wake them up about three hours after they fall asleep. Ideally, one does not use an alarm clock or other artificial means of rousing oneself. The idea is that, if it is to be a time when one is disposed for prayer, one will wake up. In the twenty years I have been directing the Spiritual Exercises, my experience has been that very few retreatants find it an unhelpful time to pray. Many may balk at the idea at first, but after trying it most do not dispute its value. Many are motivated by Ignatius's invita-tion to discipline. After the retreat is finished, they may even have a strong urge to continue late-night prayer. In our day a certain political correctness may induce directors to take "the clients' side" to avoid any accusa-tion of too much discipline and mortification. These, however, have a valid place in the spiritual life; it is how people grow. Still, there often is an aversion to dis-ciplines that might be uncomfortable. Directors avoid asking people to spend much time praying about sin, about hell, or about Jesus' passion and death. Midnight prayer has an obvious discomfort, disrupting ordinary sleep patterns. That does not mean that it is a bad thing. Like other things, it requires discernment. Note ' Number [34] (chap. 3, no. 7) of"The Official Directory of 1599" in On Giving the Spiritual Exercises: The Early Jesuit Manuscript Directories and the Official Directory of 1~99, trans, and ed. Martin E. Palmer SJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996), pp. 297-298. 289 67.3 2008 BERNARD J. LEE The Social Matrix of Religious Obedience revisiting religious life 2901 There are three parts to these reflections on the social matrix of obedience in religious life. The first addresses the functions of power in any social group, emphasizes mutuality in deci-sion making, and finds a helpful resource in Bernard M. Loomer's "Two Kinds of Power." The second part addresses the condition of those who feel "outside" of power, looks at how they come "inside," and finds helpful resources in Elizabeth Janeway's book Powers of the Weak. The third part addresses the dynamic in a Judeo-Christian group seeking to promote the reign of God in specit~c communal experi-ences; it finds resources in Gaudium et spes and in Paul Hanson's The People Called: The Growth of Community in the Bible. These reflections are Bernard J. Lee SM is professor of theology and vice pres-ident for mission and identity in St. Mary's University; One Camino Santa Maria; San Antonio, Texas 78228. Review for Religious an elaboration of a short discussion of obedience in my book The Beating of Great Wings: A Worldly Spirituality for Active Apostolic Communities. 1 Before addressing those three areas, I want to name two theological presuppositions that underlie what follows. The first is that all experiences of God are mediated historically and that obedience is one such mediation. We are addressed by God in and through experience. Martin Buber remarked that people won-der why God does not talk much nowadays. He says that too many people expect to hear God above or alongside daily life, and miss the point that, when situ-ation after situation calls us to make decisions that have effects, these situations are in fact the personal speech of God.2 The second presupposition is from Vatican Council II's Lumen gentium §9, that it has pleased God to save us not merely as individuals one by one, but as a people mutually related. Obedience has everything to do with the social matrix of redemption and, in our special case, the life of a religious community. We in religious life are a clear instance of persons mutually related. The Issue of Power Church thought and behavior including these reflec-tions of mine--have always been influenced by the cul-ture at large. In the culture of feudalism, the church's and religious life's sense of themselves reflected that culture. In civil life, there were a few princes and dukes, lords and ladies, and all the rest were subjects and had to obey them. Church authority tended to reflect that structure. Recall the phrase for bishops and cardinals ("princes of the church"), and the terms of address ("Your Excellency" and "Your Eminence"). At ordination the newly ordained 291 67.3 2008 Lee ¯ The Social Matrix of Religious Obedience 292 places his hands between the hands of the bishop and promises obedience to him, not to the reign of God. In religious life the designated community leaders were called superiors, which logically makes community members "inferiors." Higher leaders were and still are sometimes generals. Obedience operated in that frame-work. Titles are an index to a community's social struc-ture. There were incredible leaders in this system in the church and in religious life, but it was still this system. By and large, feudal tendencies were muted in religious life, but they were part of our history. Community members understood themselves somewhat feudally in their relationship with designated community leaders. We are in a different position in Western culture today because of a late-18th-century paradigm shift to a social matrix different from feudalism. But we must remember that more participative approaches to group decision making are really quite new if we consider reli-gious life's long history. In his bicentennial book on the French Revolution, Simon Schama discusses that paradigm shift as an aban-donment of feudal structures, in which most people were subjects, and a desire among people for wider participation in their communal life. He says: "While it was commonplace to recognize that the Revolution gave birth to a new kind of political world, it is less often understood that that world was the product of two irreconcilable interests--the creation of potent states and the creation of a community of free citizens.''3 Mutatis mutandis, these political pulls were felt in the church and in religious life. They are reflected cur-rently, for example, in the matter of episcopal collegi-ality. In parishlife in the United States, about eighty percent of Roman Catholics want a voice in the spending of parish income and in matters pertaining to justice and welfare. Over seventy percent would like to have a voice in the appointment of priests to a parish.4 This is a desire to be ecclesial citizens. Women's orders, by and large, have made significant moves toward the post- Revolution leadership paradigm. Vatican II's attention to episcopal collegiality was also a move in this direc-tion, but there is still a need for wholehearted careful development. With this as background, I am interested in ponder-ing religious obedience as part of the "post-feudal" social dynamics of a religious order's apostolic commitment to the reign of God in human history. The politics of mutual responsibil-ity for the common good would be a briefer statement of the same thing. Because politics has gotten such a questionable repu-tation in our culture, Bernard Crick felt compelled to write a small book (and a fine one), In Defense of Politics.5 We easily forget that Aristotle called politics a virtue in his treatment of the social nature of human beings, in the Nicomachean Ethics, book six.6 And St. Thomas sees politics as a virtue in his tract on prudence, De Prudentia, again as a consequence of our social nature.7 This sense of politics is a good framework for consider-ing religious obedience. The word politics is derived from the Greek word for a city (polis). Politics is how city dwellers--citizens-- We are in a different position in Western culture today because of a late-18th-century paradigm shift to a social matrix different from feudalism. 293 67.3 2008 Lee ¯ The Social Matrix of Religious Obedience 294 construe their life together to best serve their common good. Given the inevitable variety of experiences and perceptions within any group, political astuteness guides the compromises people must make in their collective espousal of the most good for all--this must not be allowed to mean a bland minimum of good. That would be bad politics. Among religious, common good is intimately related to our community's mission and to the social circumstances where we are missioned. Religious obe-dience implies a common quest for the reign of God. Maximizing that quest requires some "political" jockey-ing and compromising. In view of this, I want to reflect of the issue of power. The word power sounds threaten-ing, but it is a neutral term. Power is an issue whenever two or more people are engaged in any social interac-tion. Power is present in dialogue and collaboration. In the reflections that follow, I am especially indebted to Bernard Loomer's lecture on social ethics, "Two Kinds of Power," at the University of Chicago's Divinity School, and to Elizabeth Janeway's book The Powers of the Weak. I am interested in how communities and community leadership at every level obey together the reign of God. This may sound quixotic, but I will give it a try. This approach is limited in scope. It is concerned with obedience's social matrix, and does not touch upon the asceticism that healthy obedience requires, nor upon the prayer life that supports it, nor upon the relation-ship with God that it mediates. In my reflection I have in mind active apostolic religious orders, with mission as a key category. Loomer's "Two Kinds of Power" Bernard Loomer says, first of all, that "the presence Review for Religious of power is manifest whenever two or more people are gathered together and have any kind of relationship," and also that "its deeper and sometimes darker qualities emerge as soon as the omnipresent factor of inequality makes itself felt . The problem of power is the prob-lem of the quality of our lives.''8 I recognize that as true, wherever and whenever, in a group as small as two or as large as a nation. Loomer's major contribution to social thought is his analysis of unilateral power and relational power. The most common under-standing of power in the United States, and not infrequendy in the church, is the unilateral version of it, "the capacity to influ-ence, guide, adjust, manip-ulate, shape, control., to advance one's own pur-poses," and to be affected as little as possible in the process.9 In this pervasive model of power, one person's gain in power is nearly always connected with another's loss of power. The postconciliar Christian heart and mind seek a countercultural alternative to unilateral It takes a strong and secure person to practice relational power, one willing to be influenced by others. power. The exercise of this relational power presumes "the ability both to produce and [to] undergo an effect . . ¯ [for] the capacity to absorb an influence is as truly a mark of power as is the strength involved in exert-ing an influence.''~° One should not try to exert influ-ence without having been influenced by that situation or those persons, in order first to have an appreciative understanding of what one hopes to influence. 67.3 2008 Lee ¯ The Social Matrix of Religious Obedience 296 It takes a strong and secure person to practice rela-tional power, one willing to be influenced by others. We should not try to have effects on any person or event that we do not first understand. If we do understand, it is only because our knowledge arises from our thor-oughly experiencing someone or something "other." There is a profound and respectful mutuality in the exercise of relational power that does not characterize unilateral power. I am suggesting that healthy obedience belongs more fully and redemptively to relational power than to unilateral power. Relational power functions effectively amidst rela-tively secure people, a hard saying for something so important. When reflecting on the implications of a rich life for one who lives relational power, Loomer calls it "S-I-Z-E" and spells it out. He calls it S-I-Z-E because it takes a "big person," a secure human being, to practice it. If I were looking for a good contemporary description of holiness, I would include these thoughts, which are as applicable to a community as to an individual: By S-I-Z-E I mean the stature of your soul, the range and depths of your love, your capacity for relation-ships. I mean the volume of life you can take into your being and still maintain your integrity and indi-viduality. I mean the intensity and variety of outlook you can entertain in the unity of your being without feeling defenseless or insecure. I mean the strength of your spirit to encourage others to become freer in the development of their diversity and uniqueness. I mean the power to sustain more complex and enrich-ing tensions. I mean the magnanimity of concern to provide the conditions that enable others to increase in stature. To me, S-I-Z-E is the fundamental cat-egory. It is the essential principle. Everything else in life is an abstraction from this or a commentary upon it.~ Review for Religious That is the context for relational power. A theological note about the exercise of power is in order. What any religion does is propose the absolute perfection of God. The ways that the Greeks and the Hebrews do it contrast sharply. One who interprets God wearing a Greek hat would say that God is absolutely immutable, cannot change, because perfect being can-not change. If you can be better tomorrow than you are today, you are not perfect. If you can be worse tomor-row than today, you are surely not perfect. If you can simply be different tomorrow than today, you are not now all that you can be. So, in Greek logic, if God is perfect being, God cannot change. God then exercises unilateral power, having effects, but never being truly affected. In his book The Divine Relativity, Charles Hartshorne says: "The politically, and I am confident theologically, sounder principle is this, that he who is most adequately influenced by all may most appropriately exert influence upon all.''~2 Hebrew logic about God reflects something closer to Hartshorne's remark. It claims God's perfection as perfect love rather than perfect being, which implies being profoundly affected by the being of the ones loved. Our love must change because the ones we love change. Perfect love is not immutable, but rather the ultimate instance of relationality, and therefore the most mutable of all beings. I want to say that there is more biblical testimony for a relational understanding of God's power than a unilateral interpretation. God speaks: Sometimes I announce that I shall uproot, break down, and destroy a certain nation or kingdom; should the nation I have threatened.abandon its wick-edness, I then change my mind about the disaster I intended to afflict. Sometimes I announce that I shall build up or plant a certain nation or kingdom, but 297 67.3 2008 Lee ¯ The Social Matrix of Religious Obedience should that nation do what displeases me and refuse to listen to my voice, I then change my mind about the good I had intended. (Jr 18:7-10) One remembers also that Abraham and Moses both bargained with God to change God's mind--not philo-sophical arguments but midrashic intuitions. I am suggesting that obedience is about the exercise of power in a community and that relational power is the appropriate exercise of power. In fact, the English word obedience comes from two Latin words, audire, "to listen," and oh, to be "right in front of" what one is lis-tening to. This is not a minor insight. It is a picture of relational power. In relational power, the "power" is understood as being first of all in the community at large, in the life of the community. Elizabeth Janeway's reflections pertain more to the community's power to shape decisions than to designated leaders' power to shape them. Janeway's "Powers of the Weak" In her book Elizabeth Janeway says: "There is noth-ing inherently 'better' about the weak or 'worse' about the powerful, as human beings. What is 'better' is that a relative balance should exist between the members of a power relationship.''13 She describes three ways that those who in unilateral power situations are outside that power can exert power. The first of these is to announce their disbelief publicly, to call into question another's power to define or name something. It is to say out loud that something else could be the case, and maybe that a better case could be made. "The ordered use of the power to disbelieve, the first power of the weak, begins here, with the refusal to accept the definition of oneself that is put forward by the powerful.''14 Review for Religious The second power of the weak is in coming together, because "when mistrust [disbelief] is solitary, it can react against the doubter . Mistrust needs validation, and that comes from the assurances that one's doubts are realistic and shared by others.''~s The third power of the weak somewhat resembles a union strike or even civil disobedience--whatever its form, it is a public collective voice. Important here are the two words "collective" and "public." Though Elizabeth Janeway's reflections on the pow-ers of the weak may sound extreme, underneath them is the presumption that care for the common good is the duty of the entire community. Leadership and community are both there to serve the common good. The community's percep-tion of the common good needs to be spelled out and deserves to be a shaper of leadership and even an exercise of leadership. Similarly a designated leader's perceptions must be taken seri-ously by the entire community. There is a strong element of mutuality in the social function of obedience, but many social constructions of reality do not recognize this. The wily American composer Charles Ives once remarked that everybody knows more than anybody. I would not push this remark to an extreme, but it surely expresses some trust in collective discernment and wis-dom. On the other hand, one person sometimes has more wisdom than the collective. Leadership and community are both there to serve the common good. 299 The Dialogue between the Word and the World Meticulous discernment of what is needed to imple- 67.3 2008 Lee ¯ The Social 2Vlatrix of Religious Obedience oo] ment the reign of God, and appropriate celebration of what has already been successfully implemented, are both situated in a social matrix. Active apostolic reli-gious orders exist for collaborating with God's inten-tions for human history. This collaboration requires a community's attentive listening to what faith seeks and attentive listening to what specific social situations need or even cry out for. It also requires a careful communal search for the best strategic response, given the actual resources, great-or small, at their disposal. Whatever contributes in any way participates in leadership and invites obedience. In order to follow Mary's advice at Cana to "do whatever he tells you," it helps to remember Martin Buber's reminder that you or I encounter God speak-ing to us personally when our assessment'of events and circumstances demands that we make our decision and take our stand. I would add that often it is we, not just you or I, who must hear and obey what God is telling the bunch of us to conclude and do as a community. The Second Vatican Council stated this clearly: The people of God. labors to decipher the authen-tic signs of God's presen(e and purpose in the hap-penings, needs, and desires in which this people has a part along with other men and women of our age. For faith throws a new light on everything . . . and thus directs the mind to solutions which are fully human. (GS §11) In a similar vein, Paul Hanson describes what he considers to be the dynamics of any community that is called into existence by its Christian faith: Within biblical communities of faith, God's activity in the world was discerned in the interaction between confessional [congregational] heritage and new Review for Religious events. And word and world continue to interrelate in the life of religious communities today. Utmost care must be given to both sides of this two-dimensional exegesis. As much harm can be done by applying an inadequately understood word to a well-understood world as in applying a well-understood word to an inadequately understood world.16 This, I believe, is the context for discernment. If I were preparing a formation program, I would put a high priority on developing skills in social analysis and in hermeneutics (understanding the dynamics of interpret-ing our faith traditions) and al

Issue 12.5 of the Review for Religious, 1953. ; A.M.D.G. Review for Religious SEPTEMBER 15, 1953 Pleasure and Ascetical Life . Joseph P. Fisher intergroup Relations " Wiiliam H. Gremley The Religion Teacher . Sls~er M. Acjneslne Practice of the Holy See ¯ Joseph F. Gallen Discipline . c.A. Herbst Questions and Answers Rural Parish Wo~'kers VOLUME XII NUMBER RI VII:::W FOR RI::LI IOUS VOLUME XlI SEPTEMBER, 15, 1953 NUMBER 5 CONTENTS SOME THOUGHTS ON PLEASURE AND THE ASCETICAL LIFE-- Joseph P, Fisher, S.J . 225 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 230 ABOUT BOOKS . 230 SOME DEVELOPMENTS IN INTERGROUP RELATIONS-- William H. Gremley . . . . . 231 A YEAR WITH THE RURAL PARISH WORKERS . 242 PAGING THE RELIGION "TEACHER--Sister M. Agnesine, S.S.N.D. 248 PRACTICE OF THE HOLY SEE--Joseph F. Gallen, S.J .2.5.2 DISCIPLINE--C. A. Herbst, S.J . 272 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 25. Second Year of Novitiate . 276 26. Authority of Superior and Novice Master . 278 27. Sleeping Quarters of Novices . 279 28. Fugitive Religious and Dowry . 280 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September, 1953, Vol. XII, No. 5. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Jerome Breunig, S.J., Augustine G. Ellard, S.J., Adam C. Ellis, S.J., Gerald Kelly, s.,j., Francis N. Korth, S.J. Copyright 1953, by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Permission is her.eby gra,nted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Before wrlt;ncj to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. Some Thought:s on Pleasure and !:he Ascet:ical Life Joseph P. Fisher, S.J. ¯|T IS ALMOST INEVITABLE that a good many young reli- | gious, especially among the more fervent, run into certain difficul-ties in squaring their attitude toward pleasure and their acceptance of it with certain ascetical ideals. Practically all ascetical literature, as in a certain sense it must, enlarges on the danger of pleasure and sometimes almost gives the idea to inexperienced minds that pleasure is evil in itself. Likewise there is the insistence that the harder, the more painful, a thing is, the better. While this is true ~rightly under-stood, . young minds frequently make. no qualifications and hence fall into error. Often enough the lives of the saints seem to confirm their exaggerations. The, attitude of mind engendered by such misunder-standings makes for certain practical difficulties in the conduct of these young religious. They are constantly ill-at-ease when faced with pleasure. They feel their ascetical ideals conflict with the mode of action encouraged by customs, by more experienced religious, friends, or relatives. On certain occasions, for instance, feast days, picnics, visiting, it seems they are expected t~o enjoy food, entertain-ment, comforts of various kinds. But they feel that to do so means they must go back on the truest ascetical principles. Or it may be that they are encouraged to enjoy literature but feel that to do so would be. to lessen their ideals. As a matter of fact in the more. ex-treme cases a young religious may have his or her outlook so shaped by the conviction that pleasure is evil (or at least always very. sus-pect) and pain always good that the whole spiritual life is nothing but a kind of self-torture. As is evident, all religious should know the truth about this mat-ter. In general it may be said that not only is it no sin ~o enjoy moderate pleasure but it can easily be an act of virtue. And the goodness of the act can be indefinitely increased by the inte.ntion of directing it to a higher and nobler end, and even actually and ex-plicitly to our ultimate end. For example, a religious who likes honey may eat it with relish and glorify God by so doing. The religious knows there is no sin in such an action and implicitly understands that the action is in accord with God's designs for human life. As a 225 JOSEPH P. FISHER Reoiew ~or Religious matter of fact, the religious could make this an act of the love of God by quietly considering the Wisdom and Goodness of God manifested in this expe.rience of human life. And so with the various simple pleasures that might conceivably, come into an ordinary day. Thdre is a field of pleasure that may well call for special atten-tion. Nowadays many religious are called upon to teach the fine arts, whose whole purpose is to please. This does not mean of.course that this pleasure may be regarded as man's absolutely last end, but it is a relatively ultimate end. Unlike "practical" arts, the fine arts are not aimed at producing something useful, but something beautiful, which causes pleasure. Now if what w,e said above about the possibility of elevating the goodness of sensible pleasures is true, this possibility is even truer in regard to the pleasures of art. For the pleasure of art is a nobler pleasure than that of eating, for instance. Accordingly, it ought to be easier to sublimate the "good" present in an aesthetic ex-perience. Some may doubt this, recalling what they have heard about the immorality of artists of various kinds a~id the. warnings against being a vapid aesthete. And it must be admitted that for certain temperaments there is a danger. Father Graham, in his book, The Looe of God, puts !t stronglywhen.he says: "Artistic sensibility can and should, when controlled by prudence, lend grace and attractive-ness to the moral life. But it frequently happens that the allure-ments of beauty prove so strong that the response to them tends to degenerate into mere aesthetic indulgence. The lover of beauty is con-cerned above all else with the joyous experience of what is pleasing; when unchecked by other considerations he seeks logically an ecstatic existence of perpetual intoxication, through eye and ear and mind, with beautiful objects." It may be added that if a person is of such a temperament and gives in to it, he will undoubtedly do it to the neglect of duty. Even those who are not especially sensitive to beauty can at times be drawn from stern duty by the siren of pleasure. However, it seems that among Catholics and certainly among religious such aesthetes are rather rare. The difficulty is oftentimes the other way about. Even those whose duty it is to study literature and other works of art try to do so without apprec,iating and enjoying the beauty of them. Such an approach is obviously wrong, for unless literature and the other works of art are enjoyed, they are not correctly comprehended. And one who himself does not comprehend can hardly expect to teach others with any success. So it comes about that some rather fail in 226 September, 1953 PLEASURE AND ASCETICAL LIFE their du~;y by not enjoying what is God's Will that theyshould enjoy than by over-indulgence. For example, if Brother Aquinas is pre-paring to teach English and fears to allow himself aesthetic pleasure in reading Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice, he certainly will fail to a great extent in both his studies and his teaching. Moreover, it would be well for men if the right kind of people created and appreciated beauty. Too often the enjoyment of beauty appears to be the monopoly of sentimental, anti-intellectual, or at least non-intellectual, and irreligious escapists. "All things are yours" (I Cor. 3/33) but they won't be if we fear immod'~rately, unreasonably, the enjoyment of the beautiful. Since there is an intimate relationship between nature ahd art. it will help to see first something about the enjoyment of nature. Ac-cording to St. Paul, "All the creatures of God are good and nothing is to be rejected that is received with thanksgiving . " (I. Tim. 4/4). And "From the foundations of the world men have caught sight of his invisible nature, his eternal power and his divinity, as they are knowri through his creatures" (Romans, 1/20). The beau-ties of nature ought to lead us to God, Who is reflected in nature, the work of His bands. Many misunderstand the place of "creatures" in God'splan for men. They are normally the means by which man rises to a knowledge and love of the Creator. Too many look upon them as "absolutes," things apart from God, things which, if appre-ciated, draw us to themselves and away from God. Such a view is based upon a n.isunderstandlng of. their true nature. Creatures, finite beings, are of their very nature dependent beings, relative beings, not absolutes. They must, if properly understood, be related to the In-finite; they point to the Infinite; their participated qualities are finite reflections of the infinite attributes and should more than remind us of their prototype. For one who understands the truth about the nature of finite beings, they ought to be stepping stones or rather springboards by Which he rises to that full Being Who is the ever-active cause of their ever-dependent existence. "The Contemplation for Obtaining L6ve," which crowns the Exercises of St. Ignatius, tries to impress men with this truth, but many, satisfied with a super-ficial approach, never really understand it. But the saints have understood it. It is a commonplace that St. Francis of Assisi made much of the sacrament of nature. A biographer relates "the following of St. Francis during his last days. "Meanwhile Francis was suffering greatly. Yet amidst his bodily 227 JOSEPH P. FISHEI~ agonies .be continued to find a~ absorbing sweetness in meditating upon the be.auty of God ifiHis creationl All the.crea'tion seemed to sing of the glory of its Creator to his pain-racked senses: and this is the more wonderful when w~ rememb& ho'~ 'pain is 'apt to turn all sensible comfort into bitterness. One day,' when he was suffering more than u~ual in eyes ~ifid head, he had a great desire to hear the viol. One of the brothers attending him, had been a violist in the world. Francis called for him and said: 'Biother, th~ children of th~ world do not understand divine sacraments: and musical instru-ments, which in former times were set apart for. the praise of God, man's wantonness has converted to the mere delight of the ear. Now I would hav~ you go secretly and borrow a vi01 and bring comfort with some honest melody to Brother Body who is so full of pains.' " Now without entering into controversy about the relationship between nature and art, we can certainly transfer 'much 6f what we have said about nature and God to art and God. Whether you say that art copies nature, perfects or .sublimates nature, or helps one ap-preciate nature, in any case, artistic works ~re finite participations of Infinite Beauty an'd, if appreciated as such, can and should aid one to appreciate this Infinite Beauty. In o{her words, art ~can help one use creatures for "contemplation." A man who is impressed by finite beauty can thereby be better prepared to appreciate the Source of all beauty. One may, for instance, never have realized how a cloud re-flects God's beauty Until he has read and appreciated Shelley's poem, ."The Cloud." Pleasure, though an end in its own o~der, may, if handled prop-erly, be a means of drawing closer to God. A certain puritanical bent of mind prevents many from appreciating this fact. This is not to deny that one can practice virtue" by foregoing the enjoyment of l~gitimate pleasure. It is often said that such abstinence from legiti-mate pleasure strengthens the will so,that it wili be strong in temp-tation. There is certainly much truth in this statement, but it is well to rememberthat motivation rather than exercise is the best means of strengthening the will. However, it is clear that a religious would scarcely be imitating Christ very seriously if he endeavored to fill life with every legitimate pleasure. Christ being rich became poor for us. All who are in the way of the love of Christ know that they can manifest and add to their love by sacrifice. Even here it is well to remember that' ChriSt made use of at least some.pleasures of Ills, ¯ such as the enjoyment of friendship and of.natur~al beauty. And 228 September, 19~ 3 PLEASURE AND ASCETICAL LIFE theology will not allow us to forget the fact that all His life Christ enjoyed the Beatific Vision, even though it is true at least at times the proper effects were divinely withheld. As to whether Christ enjoyed the beauty of human art, we do not have much evidence. If he did not, it would seem that was Simply due to circumstances; cer-tainly the enjoyment of finite beauty is a very worthy human ex-perience, and Christ was a complete man. God it is who has given the artistic urge and God it is Who has created the arts in which man "imitates" the Creator. The artist, even though unconsciously, casts an illuminating light on some facet of a created good, and aids us to appreciate more fully, the beauty .of God's handiwork. Of course Christ did not need this aid, but there were many things Christ did not need that He made His own to be like us and give us an example. The question as to how far an individual religious ought togo in the renouncemen(' of even legitimate pleasure is a very personal question. Even one who wishes to go far in this regard ought to understand the truth of the matter, so that he knows to what he is bound and where he begins to practice supererogation. It is likewise well to remember that what may be or appear objectively best is not always subjectively so. An individual's nature, vocation, training, ¯ and the grace of God must always be considered in settling such questions. What is good for one may be bad for another. A novice in the spiritual life cannot do what a tried religious can do; an active religious cannot do what a contemplative can. It dbes seem that most active religious, at least in the early years of their religious life, may well use pleasure, the higher pleasur.es and even moderate sensible pleasures, to help them rise to the knowledge and love of their Cre-ator. In doing this they should not feel that they are turning their backs on Christ, for as they 'get to know His "mind" better and begin to love Him more, they will spontaneously and with peace.and equanimity begin to give themselves to what St. Ignatius styles the Third Degree of Humility, the imitation of Christ in s~ffering and humiliations through love. Certain young religious seem to think that what is really the strong meat of the mystic way is already for them early in their reli-gious lives, for they try to get to God without the use of creatures. Cardinal Bellarinine points them the way quite clearly: "But we mortal men (as it seemeth) can find no other ladder whereby to ascend unto God, but by the works of God. For those who by the singular gift of God have (by another way) been admitted into 2.29 ~JoSEPH P. FISHER Paradise to hear God's secrets, which it is not lawful for a man to speak, and are not said to have a'scended, 13ut to have been wrapt.". At death some religious who have been striving to fly without wings will agree v~itb this statement of Father Martindale: "But may not one of the great 'difficulties' of dying be this--not that yo~u. have worshipped idols--loved created things ~oo much--but that you have not loved them nearly enough? What suddenly appals one is,' that God surrc~unded one with a myriad things of unbeliev-able beauty--like butterflies, or the sea, or uneducated p, eople--and that one has allowed them to slip by almost unnoticed." Certainly one reason many do not get more out of life is that they fail to make Christlike use of one of God's good creatures-- pleasure. "For all things are yours, whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas; or the world, or life, or death; or things present, or things to cg.me--all are yours, and you are Christ's, and Christ is God's" (I Cor. 3/22:23). OU R CONTRIBUTORS ¯ "JOSEPH P. FISHER is master of novices at the Jesuit novitiate, Florissant, Mo." WILLIAM H. GREMLEY is Executive Secretary for the. Commission on Human Rela-tions, Kansas City, Mo. SISTER M. AGNESINE is nationally known as an expert on methods of teaching religion. JOSEPH F. GALLEN is professor of canon law at Woodstock Coll~ge, Woodstock, Md. C. A. HERBST is on the faculty of the Jesuit juniorate .at Florissant, Mo. ABOUT BOOKS It will be noticed that in this number of the REVIEW; book reviews, book. notices, and book announcements are conspicuous by their absence. The' reason for this is that the varied summer assignments of the editors made it impossible to do the ol~ice work necessary for organizing reviews, notices, etc. The deficiency will be remedied in the November number. 230 Some Developments in Intergroup Relations William H. Gremley IT IS almost anti-climactic these, days to dwell at length on the importance of social and political problems in America occasioned by intergroup relationships. The volume of press stories and magazine articles on the subject,, such as Supreme Court decisions, legislative action of one kind or another or "incidents," either posi-tive or negative in nature, increases daily and 'has come to be almost routine. Scarcely a Week passes without some high official, go+tern-ment or civic, making a major address regarding the international aspects of this issue. That it may be one of the most important topics of our day can-not be denied since, in degree, it permeates almost all other major nation~il concerns, yet, like all social or political issues, it must have proper perspective to be abso'rbed and understood. Unfortunately, the drama and emotion inherent in the problem is a barrier to this perspective. All ioo often the negative--the headlines on race-riots, the grim warnings that we are losing overseas allies, the economic loss from discrimination--dominates the over-all picture with scant emphasis on the positive. And, all too often, the positive is usu~illy limited to gome assertion that "ihe Negro has come a long way since slavery." A brief analysis of some developments in intergroup relations over the past ten years will disclose some positive aspects of far more importance and profundity than the latter remark. The objectives of this article will be to present some analysis of those developments, primarily as they relate to daily situations familiar to most readers. and to attempt a balance of both fiegative and pgsitive aspects so as to present a proper over-all perspecttive. " I Initially, some definitions may be of value as follows: t) The terminology of the problem has, in the past, often been misunderstood. To call it a "Negro problem" is a. misnomer for, in actuality, there is no such thing as a. N, eoro problem in the. United ~tates--nor,.for that matter, a ,Jewish, Mexi.c.o.n, or Puerto Rican .231 X~qlLLIAM H. GREMLEY Review/:or Religious problem or any other issue involving people of one race, .religion, or national origin. The problem, in. terms of a situation demanding attention or correction, is one involving re[ationsfiips between mem-bers of different groups. It is, thus, more accurate to define it as a Negro-white, Jewisb-Gentilel etc., relationship problem. Nothing in the entire range of group discrimination or prejudice has roots solely in one group. A sub-problem, for example, of employment discrimination against Jews or Negroes is dynamically related to the fears, myths, and prejudices of the white Gentile em-ployer. Moreover,. defining the issue as a "Negro problem"-implies a detached and overly-objective attitude toward 15,000,000 people that is quite unrelated to the facts of group discrimination. 2) The term, "intergroup relations" is replacing, in g~neral, such terms as "race-relations" or "human relations." The word "intergroup" obviously pinpoints the is~sue far more than either a phrase excluding religious or nationality conflicts or one embracing all personal relationships, both "inter" a'nd "intra." 3) "Minority groups," as a phrase, is confined solely to a group that, because of some facet of assumed ~roup identity--skin color, religion, language, or group, custom--suffers social, economic, or political discrimination against it. Actually, however, i'minority group" is divisive in itself since it segments people from others and should be used with caution and clarity. 4) " The phrase "civil rights" is distinct from "civil liberties" in that the latter refers to the political or quasi-political freedoms guar-anteed to all by Constitutional safeguards. These would include freedom of speech, press, assembly, religion, or right to petition or bear arms. On the other hand, "civil rights" ~ire much rffore social in nature, referring to rights involving places of piablic accommoda-tion, public or privately owned, employment, housing, health and welfare facilities, recreation or education. Somewhere in between the two terms would come rights concerning voting and police pro-tection. II. Perhaps tb~ most important single,development in intergroup relations in the last decade has been th~ establishment of official city agencies to deal with urban problems of this type. Known, for the most part, as "commissions" or "councils" followed by the words "on civic unity," "community relations," or "human relations," they represent a significant phase in the over-all advancement toward September, 1953 INTERGROUP RELATIONS solutions of these problems. In essence,, such, city agencies mean a full realization of and acknowledgement by city authorities that in-tergroup relationships in the diverse populations making up most of America's urban areas can no longer be left to chance or haphazard methods. Just as in decades past, public health, transportation, wa-ter supply, street maintenance, and a host of other various civic con-cerns have been progressively added to the functions of American city government, so too the concerns of intergroup violence, dis-crimination, and individual civil rights are now the official tax- " supported duties of more than 60 American cities. The origins of such city agendes, most of which are goyerned by city ordinance, date from the Detroit race riots of 1943. Shortly after that catast~rophe, a group of Chicago citizens, headed by the late Edwin Embree, then head of the Rosenwald Fund, persuaded the late Mayor Edward Kelly to establish the first such agency. In time, other cities followed suit ~nd today the list includes such arras as Detroit, Milwaukee, Cleveland, Buffalo, Toledo, Kansas City (Mo.), St. Louis, Cincinnati, Pittsburgh, Denver. Seattle, and scores of others. In addition, many cities, both North and South. lacking a tax-supported agency, have privately supported groups working to-ward similar ends. Basically, these agencies, composed, for the most part, of mayoral appointees serving without salary but with a paid professional staff, have three aims: 1) To prevent or lessen intergroup violence~ u~hether of the col-lective mob type or as an isolated action (i.e., a bombing or an indi-vidual attack). The most singular success in this regard has taken place in Chicago where the police force, after utilizing the guidance and resources of the Chicago Commission on Human Relations, has achieved a high degree of efficiency in the prevention of intergroup mob violence. (The Cicero riot of 1951 is a case in point. So strict and effective were police measures taken to prevent a "spilling"'over Of ¯ this affair into Chicago that, while law and order broke down com-pletely in Cicero--adjacent to Chicago-the prevalent tensions in the latter city were kept completely in check.) 2) To d~oelop harmonious relationships bettveen all groups And eliminate the causes of group friction and. prejudice. In this regard, such~ city~ag.encies have,available.,a vast.amount of resource material built up over the last ten years. The material available to schools of 233 WILLIAM H. GREMLEY Review for Religious all type~ and a~ all levels will illustrate. Audio-visual aids, teacher training workshops, and curriculum and school-community relation-ship material are some of the areas where resources may be obtained. In addition, ~xtensive tl~eoretical and practical research has been ac-complisbed regarding such problem areas a~ community organization, employment, housing, health, welfare, recreatiom and civil rights. 3) To safeguard and protect the ci~)il rights" of all groups. A greater divergence among such agencies is found in this objective th~an in the other two for an obvious reason~ The degree of civil rights legally accorded to citizens, for the most part, depends on the local or state laws on the subject. Many states, like New York and Rhode Island, have effective Fair Employment PracticeLaws. In addition, New York has a Fair Education Practice Law that prohibits school "quotas" based on group differences. Conversely the s~gregation laws of the South deny civil rights to manycitizens. Thus an inter-group city agericy relies on laws if they exist and persuasion to pro-tect such rights. In "border" states like Missouri, the agency must depend on persuasion alone to accomplish this objective. In general, the types of intergroup probiems faced by a city agency will depend on the population make-up of the city itself. In cities like Chicago, Detroit, and Kansas City, perhaps 90% of such problems spring from Negro-white relationships. New York City with a Puerto-Rican population of.some 500,000 must consider this particular problem along with Negro-white and Jewish-Gentile con-cerns. West Coast cities with people of Japanese descent comprising large .segments of the Ipopulation, Texas urban areas containing sig-nificant percentages of Mexican-Americans, and Rocky-Mountain or North Mid-West states with American Indian reservations, all have different kinds of problem areas sometim_es calling for different kinds of treatment techniques or materi~ils. III An inevitableconsequehce or ,concomitant.of the growth of both" intergroup city agencies and the extensive resource material men-tioned has beeh the development of the 'intergroup relations "pro-fessioni" For the most part, the usual frame ofreference associated with any profession--research material, academic courses and,degrees, job personnel standards, establishment of a national organization (in this case the National Association of Intergroup Relations,Offi-cials)--- characterize intergroup, relations. Over and above these cri- 234 Sgptember, 1953 teria, however, certain premises exist regarding this'field Which have strong foundation~ not only in law where the c'ase may be but, in all cases, in democratic and religious principles as well. -It may be un-necessars; to ~dd that such principles are wholly consonant with those of the two major religious traditions in America. Both Judaic and Christian concepts of individual dignity, of course, are clear and defined. Man is an individual with God-given rights as well as .God-given responsibilities. In addition, it is inher-ent in his nature to mingle and commune.with his fellowmen. Both singly and collectively, he has rights and responsibilities to others and to himself in'a social sense. It ,is thus essential to th~ nature and work of these city agencies that the premise of natural rights for all should underscore and per-meate their functions and programs. The assumption that the hu-man family is one under God, that variations between peoples of genes or customs do not detract from this assumption., and that, in keeping with this "oneness" under God, all are equally entitled, to basic rights, are fundamental four~ations for inte, rgroup wozk' not only of.the "official" city agency type but in the private an'd volun-teer area as well. Some exa.mples may help, to illustrate these concepts. Labor 1) The dignity of labor, exalted by Christ and sustained by the Popes through encyclicals, certainly means the right to fully utilize one's skills. Yet the record ~f denial ofthis righ[ by r~fusals to hire or to upgrade extends back to the mid~lle 19th Century when (and continuing almost to the 20th Century) such denial to Irish Cath-olics was illustrated by factory signs--"Help Wanted--No Irish Need Apply." Tod~y, through cultural assimilation, neither the Irish immigrant nor those of Irish descent suffer this indignity. In their place, the Negro or those of Jewish. faith.are the major victims of job discrimination. It may be said that, to some extent, every racial, religious, or nationality group whether indigenous or not to America has suffered this type of injustice. Recent advances, however, in this problem 'area give hope for the future. The numerous state and city FEPC laws, the changing atti-tude of many industries, aware of the great economic loss in wasted skills, the strong stand of the American Catholic hierarchy as well as other religious bodies against job discriminatioh--all developments INTERGROUP RELATIONS 235 WILLIAM H. GRE/vlLEY Review/:or ReligiOus for the most part of just the "past decade--indicate .a point in time when this problem will no longer be major. Health 2) Perhaps no area of life involves more compassion or human feelings than suffering brought about by sickness or accident, and in this area, perhaps above all others, divine precepts of mercy and brotherly .love should prevail. Yet, this compassion is, strangely lacking in many American cities when hospital facilities for Negroes are considered. Segregation, even in many Northern cities is the rule despite worthy exceptions and it would be impossible to estimate the amount of loss of life or unnecessary pain caused by refusals of hos-pitals to admit Negro patients. 'For example, in the Kansas City area recently, a young Negro woman, injured in an auto accident, was refused admittance to or hastily transferred from four different hospitals because of her color. Eventually taken to her home, she died shortly after. Competent medical authorities definitely asserted that, with prompt and adequate attention, she might well have survived. ' Adding to this problem is the inability of qualified minority-groups doctors, nurses, and medical technicians to obtain staff ap-pointments to hospitals practicing discrimination. Thus the ,hos-pital rationalizes--"We have no Negro doctors so we don't have Negro patients." In this aria as well as employment, however, encouraging prog-ress has been made in ~ecent years. Laws in many states have been .passed prohibiting hospitals from refusing emergency patients Because of race, color, creed, or national origin. Many single hospitals in ~ities like Chicago, New York, Kansas City, and others have taken the initiative in eliminating color bars and given Negro or Jewish doctors and nurses staff appointments. The number of Negro medi-cal students in formerly all-white attended schools is on the increase, and Negro graduates are finding it easier to obtain interr;ships, par-ticularly in municipal hospitals. Education 3) In the, field of education as well, divine concepts of justice and decency to all mankind are just as strong as the above, but school segregation, with its foolish emphasis on the "separate but'~qual" tbegry, at a time when equal facilitiesAor .minority grqups i.s .p.hy.~si.-~ cally and economically t;nfeasible, continues as a burning, national 236 September, 1953 INTERGROUP RELATIONS issue. The waste, not only in dollars but in imperfect or thwarted personal development because of these barriers amohg children is in-calculable. To fully equalize, for example, the separate public schools of the State of Missouri alone wduld cost $20,000,000 according to a re-cent surveyl--without counting the cost of continuing extra trans-portation for Negro pupils. 'On the other hand, it was estimated that approximately $.1,150.000 a year of tax-monies could be saved by integrating the Missouri public school system. It is in the field of education, however, that the record of ad-vancement in the last decade is brightest. U.S. Supreme Court deci-sions have opened ~graduate schools in the South to all applicants. (Those in the North, for the most part, have been integrated sinc'e the 19th Century.) The forthcoming Supreme Court decision on public school segregati.on may well mean thd eventual end of this-anomaly on American democracy. The record of Catholic school authorities in school segregation matters is most significant. In community after community, in-cluding' Kansas City and St. Louis and even in Deep South areas where school segregation was deep-rooted custom, boId and cou-rageous action by diocesan' or arch-diocesan officials have integrated Catholic schools at all l~vels. Jesuit colleges and high schools, in particular, have a record of many "firsts'" in this respect, welcoming all stu~tents in communities otherwise strongly segregated. " IV Despite the. admirable record of Catholic schools in eliminating school segregation, many serious problems still remain to be faced. Perhaps chief among these is that regarding the efficacy of teachers as well as curriculum material in instilling sound intergroup attitudes among pupils. Chiefly. because of existing residential segregation of minority groups in most American cities, the elimination of segregation in Catholic schools where ~t has been.accomplished does not always mean extensive integration. As a rule, a school attended wholly by white pupils remained white-attended With the reverse true for schools Wholly attended by Negroes or children of Mexican descent. It has been usually in the "fringe" areas--where the population was 1"The Cost of Segregated Schools"--Study by Stuart A. Queen, Washi~gtoa Uni-. versity. Available from Missouri Association for Social Welfare, 113 ~ West High Street, Jefferson City, Missouri. " " 237 WILLIAM H. GREMLEY mixed racially or ethnically--that significant integration of different groups took place. Such "fringe" schools are usually in a minority compared to the total number in any given urban community. Ex-ceptions should be made with reference to any isolated Negro-occupied areas outside .the main such area in an urban center. Even in those cases, however, usually not more than a handful of new Negro pupils were registered after the integration order. This residential segregation has, in some areas where the popu-lation is predominantly Catholic, stimulated several situations of racial violence in which the role of the Catholic school has severely been called into question. Following the Cicero anti-Negro riot of 1951, which occurred in a community estimated to be 65 % Cath-olic, the writer interviewed an official of a local Catholic ~chool. In response to questions concerning the use of curriculum material pro-moting positive intergroup attitudes, it" was indicated, that the teaching of such attitudes was confined to the history classes. Worthy as such teaching may be, it was hardly sufficient to relate present-day intergroup problems to the pupils. Since many of the youthful par-ticipants in that affair were observed wearing Catholic insignia of some type, such limitations were not effective as a deterrent to vio-lence. The Peoria Street violehce of 1949 in Chicago, in which extreme ¯ anti-Semitism as well as anti-Negro prejudice took the form of severe assaults and beatings on bystanders allegedly "3ewish-looking," oc-curred in an area estimated to be 90% Catholic. Teen-agers in both incidents played a predominant role in the violence. It is true, of course, that such incidents of racial and religious violence are by no means confined to areas predominantly or heavily Catholic in population. Numerous other disturbances equally or even more severe than those cited have occurred in urban localities pr(~dominantly non-Catholic. The immediate concern, however, is with the role of the local Catholic school, in social situations involv-ing pre.judice and intergroup violence and in localities where ~ignifi-cant portions of the population¯ are of the Catholic faith. Something Lacking? The percentage figures and role of teenagers in the above two af-fairs pose an important question--what was lacking in the teaching techniques of the local Catholic school that could have prevented such expressions of violence and prejudice at least by participants who 238 September, 1955 INTERGROUP RELATIONS may have been Catholic? That something was--perhaps is-- lacking is obvious. While it may be that such a lack is due to com-munity pressures and mores hostile toward p~ople of different color or religion, it is possible that lack of awareness by teachers of the problem coupled with teaching materials that possibly create disre-spect and prejudice for different groups, may also account for this deficiency. For example, in one type of reader used in Catholic ele-mentary schools, the following quotation is f6und: (The reference is to the American Indian.) "Hello, Mother," cried Tom, as he ran into the apartment house where he lived. On the table in the kitchen Tom saw a large white cake. 'Tm glad that I'm an American boy tonight," he said. "Indians never had cake for supper, did they. Mother?" "I'm afraid not, Tom," answered his mother. "They didn't wash their faces before supper, either, but American boys do that.''2 Apart from the "1o, the poor Indian" attitude implied, it is manifestly unfair to deprive tbe native American of his nationality. The matter of bodily cleanliness, of course, varied in custom among the numerous Indian tribes. It is hardly possible that- respect and dignity for the American Indian as an individual created by God could be implanted in children's minds from this passage. On the other hand, an example of the type of curriculum material that can advance positive attitudes in a realistic social situation sense is found in another reader containing the story, "Toward a Promised Land.''3 Dealin~ with effort~, based on race prejudice; to oust a competent Negro doctor from a hospital, the tale. resolves the situa-tion satisfactorily from both a moral and practical viewpoint. The efforts fail, the ~doctor is retained, and his little son sees another ad-vance toward "a promised land." Both examples above perhaps will illustrate the social impor-tance of developing proper intergroup attitudes among children, ad-mittedly often a difficult task in the face of possible parental prejudice and objections. This social importance, however, is far overshadowed by the spiritual importance. To permit or ignore the development in children of prejudiced attitudes, unchecked or not counteracted in 2"This is Our Town," Faith ~ Freedom Series, Book 3, by Sr. M. Marguerite, 'Ginn E4 Company, 1952, p. 46~ 3"These Are Our Horizons," Faith ~3 Freedom Series, Book 7, by Sr. M. Charlotte, and Mary Syron, LL.D. Ginn E4 Company, 1945, p. 136. 239 WILLIAM H. GREMLEY Review for Religious the school, may be almost as much a negation of. ~hrist'~ ~eaching.as the actual encouragement of group prejudice or bigotry. The re-sponsibility, ofcourse, is no less in the home than in.the school, but in the Catholic school the duty to ~each the'ethics of the brotherhood of man unde~ the Fatherhood of God seems of particular concern. The concern is that of Christ. In her excellent study4 on attitudes towards Jews~ by .Catholic school children, Sr. Mary Jeanine Gruesser states: "Interest in the social attitudes of Catholic children is bound up with Catholic belief and practice. Today the. tremendous~octrine of the Mystical Body of Christ is being .preached and taught with new stress and emphasis. In language that he can understand, the youngest Catholic school child is learning to live the fact that all are members, one of another, in Christ. But the teacher who is really concerned that the child take this lesson away from the classroom and back to his play group in the neighborhood, rnus~ know some-thing about the situations and conditions of intergroup interaction of which the child is.a part, of the attitudes toward other people, other religious and nationality groups, that be has already formed. These are the realities to which the doctrine' must be applied, but the two must be related t:or th~ child." Having stated and, it is hoped, adequately illustrated the prob-lem, some positive resources may be listed that may be of value. Available Resources 1) As indicated, a local city intergroup agency can be of as-sistance in suggesting acceptable audio-visual and curriculum ma-terial designed to counteract prejudice and develop healthy and wholesome attitudes in children regarding people of different groups. ~2) Private agencies such as local community relations bureaus,. some school or teacher associations or local offices of the National, Conference of Christians and Jews also have resources ~eadily avail-able for this purpose. 3) Teacher workshop~ in intergroup r61ations are now available each summer in practically every section of the country. For tb~ most part, these workshops are given at local universities and colleges. A lis[ of them may be secured from the office of the National Associa- 4"Categorical Valuations of Jews Among Catholic Parochial School Children," St. Mary Jeanine Gruesser. Dissertation, Catholic University of America Press, Washington, D. C., 1950, p. 8. 240 September, 1953 INTERGRouP RELATIONS tion of Intergroup Relations Offici'als.s Most of these institutes are secular in nature and sponsorship. They are open to all applicants and usually held during the day. A special workshop designed for Catholic religious teachers has been instituted in the Shell School 6f" Social Studies in Chicago. 4) Competent rating scales for determining children's attitudes toward members of other groups are available. Examples are the "Wrightstone Scale of Civic Beliefs," the "Bogardus Social Distance Scale," and the "Grice Scale for.Measuring Attitudes Toward Races and Nationalities." (The latter is available in Sr. 3eanine's study.) As initial steps, such s~ales are extremely valuable in determining an inventory of such .attitudes and measuring the extent of such prob-lems existing in any school. V In conclusion, the international significance of official city agen-cies as resources leading to solutions of group problems of education, employment, health, or welfare facilities is manifest. In essence, they indicatd a "coming of age" for America, a growing realization that America must and can fight its own dilemma on its own grounds. For too long the Communists have pointed a distorted finger of shame at this dilemma in our democracy withoutwas is natural for them--mention of the earnest and valiant efforts made to work 6ut these problems within the framework of our democratic tr'aditions. That we can and will continue to do so, that all group~ and re-ligious bodies, Catholic and 'iaon-Catholic alike, will strive to give substance and body to our great political and religious heritage, is inevitable. Despite the discordancies, whether of violence, discrim-inations, or prejudice, the record of progress in the over-all march of American democracy toward its fulfillment for all, is clear and pro-. found. SNational Association of Intergroup Relations Officials, 565 North Erie Street, Toledo 2, Ohio. "'Opposed to all of these and a billion times rhore powerful is that Love repre-sented by the Sacred pierced Heart of Christ. It is the love for all men, who have equal opportunity tOoshare that tremendous Love, and to return it according as they will, for it has "first loved them and gone down to death for them singly and col-lec/ tively. Such a Lo~,e, even more than the common hand of the Creator unites all men before God. Can men be so callous as to remember race-hatred while kneeling around the Cross of the Crucifie~[ Christ?" '(The Most Rev. Vincent S. Waters, 'Bishop of Raleigh, in his Pastoral Letter of June 12, 1953.) 241 A Year wit:h the Rural Parish Workers [EDITORS' NOTE: The Rural Parish Workers of Christ the King are laywomen de-voted to works oi~ the apostolate in rural areas. Father Edward A. Bruemmer, in whose parish they bare worked for several years, says of them: "[ am convinced that theE are as essential to the welfare of a rural parish as the teaching sisters in the parish school. Perform!ng the corporal and spiritual works" of mercy on a scal~ hitherto undreamed of, they have renovated the face of the earth here." We had planned to give a rather complete sketch of the beginning and growth~ of this work but it is impossible to do that in our present issue. We hope however, to give it later, because we believe it is very important for our readers to know about the va-rious possibilities ot: the lay apostolate. For the present, we content ourselves with printing this informal article written by a Rural Parish Worker who signs herself, Miss Mary. The material in this article can be obtained in brochure form from: The Rural Parish Wokers of Christ the King, Route 1, Box 194, Cadet, Mis-souri.] THE residence and center of the Rural Parish Workers of Christ the King (laywomen dedicated to the service of their neighbors in rural areas) is at Fertile.in the large rural parish of St. ,Joa-chim, Washington County, Missouri'. This is picturesque with its rolling hills, great trees and valleys, but there is evidence of poverty everywhere to mar its beauty. The inhabitanl~s for the most part are a poor, uneducated, generous, loving, and appreciative people. The Rural Parish Workers, cooperating with the pastor, do much to edu-cate, see social justice done, relieve want, spread Catholic Action in the area. I'm spending a year with the Rural Parish Workers, participating in their work and sharing in all their activities. This means sharing in the spiritual life also . . . daily Mass, Prime and Compline or Lauds and Vespers in English, individual recitation ot: the. Rosary, reading and study. This summer when I first arrived, along with two other volun-teers, Miss Pat and Miss Christina, plans for the Open House were already under way. This project is given yearly under the sponsor-ship of a group of men to make new friends for the Parish Workers and spread word of their work. We three pitched right in, helping clean up house and grounds with the neighbors and others who came to help. A week later the big day came. So did 1000 visitors. About the middle of the afternoon Mol~her .Nature came along with the 242 RURAL PARISH WORKERS biggest rain of the season! Many persgns hurried home, but many stayed, so we served food all over the house and on the porches until everyone was happily fed. That night we washed up the biggest gobs of mud and thanked God for a very wonderful day in spite of the rain. Not long after Open House we had a Clothing Giveaway for the needy people. Several times we went on visits in different parts of the parish which is 150 square miles in size. Can you imagine people who live only 50 miles from St. Louis being so isolated as not to see other human beings for weeks at a time? Well, I can state this is the truth. In 3uly a neighbor took us to visit such a family. You can imagine how glad the old couple were to see us. Even though we had been jostled around on the back of a truck (the only way we could get through the woods) and then soaked in a sudden down-pour of rain! Baptisms During another visit a littl~ girl came running across the road. "Could we come over right" away?" A neighbor's new-born baby was dying and the parents wanted Miss LaDonna or Miss Alice to baptize it. So we thankfully watched another child added to God's family in the car of the doctor who was taking the baby to the hos- ¯ pithl. We were present for many weddings in the parish church this summer. But one morning the celebration was for a different reason ¯ . . the baptism of an entire family instructed by Miss LaDonna. We volunteers were happy to witness the event and to take part in 'their joy. Although life with the Parish Workers is anything but routine, there are some things that must be done regularly. Each of us kept her own room neat and clean, and helped with the thorough weekly cleaning. We took turns, two together, in preparing meals and washing the dishes. Each evening one of us volunteers got to milk the goat. This was quite a thrill for us city girls. We volunteers helped Miss Alice with the outside work such as tying up grape vines, wa-tering trees, pulling weeds, raking gravel in the newly-made drive, etc. The Parish Workers' clean-up activities aren't limited t6 their own home, however. One afternoon we all went to watch the completing of the purifi-cation of the spring used by the people of the immediate area. The 243 RURAL PARISH WORKERS Reoieu) for Religious Parish Workers had had the spring cleaned and enclosed in 'concrete with a pipefor'tbe water to run through. This prevents people from dipping their buckets into the .waterand has greatly improved the health of the children in the neighborhood. After an especially b,u~y week we were all preparing for a day of rest when an elderly man came to the door. He bad walked several miles to tell us that his grandson was suffering from a brain tumor and must be rushed to the hospital ira.mediately. Could we get him in? So, this ended our day of rest and sent us on an errand of mercy. Several times this summer Father Bede, O.S.B., spiritual director of the Rural Parish Workers, visited us and gave us many interesting and enlightening talks which broadened our knowledge of the lay ¯ apostolate and helped our spiritual growth. Seven Weeks for doing something you thoroughly enjoy are too short as we three volunteers discovered when the Summer Session came to an end. We all left with heavy hearts. Miss Pat had to re-turn to school. Miss Christina was needed at borne. And I went borne to prepare my winter clothing and tell my family that I in-tended to return in September for a year.of service. Instructions Upon my return [ entered more fuIly into the life of a Parish Worker. Activities began with the start of weekly religious instruc-tions for the public scl~ool children. My class of twenty youngsters is made up of 2nd to 4th graders who have received their First Holy Communion. I find them very attentive and well-behaved with a thirst for knowledge. I had returned to Fertile when the country was most beautiful and the large pears on our tree were ready for picking. I donned a ¯ pair of blue jeans and an old shirt and had the time of my life climbing the tree and shaking down the pears, using the garden rake for the hi~hest branches. Seven bushels of delicious fruit were added to our pantry and shared with our neighbors. In October we entertained the members of the Parish Workers' Advisor~ Board and their wives ata buffet supper. Miss Par'and Miss Christina came to help with this gala affair., We all had so much fun together they were reluctant to leave. But plans were made to get together again when time came for selecting and packing Christmas gifts for.the 250 children in the families we assist during the year. 244 September, 1953 RURAL PARISH WORKERS Travel The distribution and sorting of clothes for these families has been given me as my special project, and I must admit I find it both interesting and helpful. Interesting because of a natural woman's instinct wondering what I will discover in each box I open, for these boxes and packages come to Fertile from all over, sometifnes from as far away as NeW York. And helpful, for in this exploited area wages are very low. Many times we bear of a child out of school bedause of no shoes or other clothing. And for many families the only new baby clothes are those we are able to supply in the layettes generously donated by women and college girls interested in this apostolate I am learning to drive. " If you ask'the Parish Workers how I am doing they ~vill answer, "Wonderfully well." But if.y6u put the question to me ~ am afraid you would receive a different answer. However, I shall keep on-, for often I could help out if I were able to drive the station wagon myself. We travel many miles,each month. Over two thousand is the average now. A number of trips are made to St. Louis, eSl~ecially to clinics and hospitals. One such trip concerned my special ,family. While visiting them one day I noticed the baby looked ill. He was terribly undernourished anyway, and I was truly worried about him. We telephoned a St. Louis hospital and the Sister told us a bed'would be available as soon as we could get.him there. The familywere un-able to pay anything but the baby remained in the hospital seven weeks and is now doing wonderfully. From.time to time I ~ake visits with ~ne of thd Parish Workers. One morning it was necessary to make a trip to the courthouse to see the judge about a f~imily we were helping. I was more than giad to be risked to go along as I would get the opportunity to meet some of the civic officials and learn how,they and the Parish Workers work together to help others. Since I have been here I have learned much about Secularigm and Communism and the inroads tb~y baremade in our country. I am also learning how to detect their prop~an~la in radio programs, newspaper articles, etc. Accompanying Miss LaDonna to the Well-Baby Clinic was al-ways a pleasure., until one day she pulled a fastone and asked the County nurse to give me a typhoid shot. Of course I knew about"it beforehand, but being a city girl I really h~d.~'tthought, much about it., We take pure drinking, water, for gr~inted' in the city, but out here 245 RURAL PARISH WORKERS Review for Religious it's different. All the water is from creel~s and springs like the one the Parish Workers fixed up last summer. The home of the Parish Workers is an old brick house. Major remodeling has made it into a modern home with many conveniences so that they may devote as, much time as possible to their apostolate of serving others. Minor work in the house proceeds slowly, one room at a time, and furniture is supplied by donations. Most of it we repair or repaint, but recently a women's group brought out a complete flew bedroom outfit which the Parish Workers placed in .my room. "Harmonious surroundings help in the development of a Christian home'," they always say. I know for sure they are relaxing at the end of a busy day. The apostolate of the Rural Parish Workers is not well known, although for several years, under the patronage of the Most Reverend Archbishop of St. Louis, they have been quietly working among the poor and downtrodden. So now we send out a monthly memo of recent news to The King's Men, an auxiliary of the Parish Workers. This and other secretarial work enables me to make good use of my typing learned in high school. Christmas There is always activity here at Fertile, but preparations for Christmas are something to behold. First, making of the Advent wreath. Three days before Advent we gathered pine from a large pine forest nearby. I had the pleasure of helping make thewreath, which we hung from the living room ceiling. ¯ With its four candles. magenta-colored ribbons and fresh green l~ine it was a beautiful re-minder of the season of preparation for the great Feast of the Nativ-ity as well as of the long period of waiting for the first "coming .of Christ over 1900 years ago. Decorations in the house were c.hanged to conform with the spirit of the season, and each evening after sup-per, as we lit the candles, one the first week, two the second, and so on, and asked God's help and blessing, we seemed to come closer to the Divine Infant soon to be born again in our hearts on Christmas Day. It was during one of these evenings when all felt in a gay and joyous mood that we selected the °"jewels" for our decorated cross. We finally all agreed on the selection and then could hardly wait for Christmas to hang the beautiful cross with its sparkling stones of red, yellow and blue. Several trips were made to St. Louis and near- 246 September, 1953 RURAL PARISH WORKERS by towns for Christmas shoppi.ng ~and to pick up clothes, canned goods, toys and candy donated by generous friends for "the needy. Also to distribute gifts to our families and friends~ Miss Pat and Miss Christina returned for a week-e.nd to help with the toys, sacramentals, and candy for the children. We were all busily engaged in this task when the Auxiliary Bishop, Most Reverend Charles H. Helrrising, arrived for a short visit with the ¯ Parish Workers. He .gave us his blessing and told us to tell others ot the need for volunteers in this rural apostolate. The following week we packed food for all the needy people of the area. We could gix;e large boxes, due to the generosity of our friends. Gifts and candy were also prepared for our children in the Sunday classes. Several trips were made to the parish church with the station wagon full of people. We live eight miles from church and "many neighbors .would have no way to get to. confession or Holy Mass if it were not for the Parish Workers. Even on the day before Christmas as we worked on the Crib and tree, time was taken so that no one would miss the opportunity to receive Holy Communion on the great feast. As we finished trimming the tree we realized the season of prepa-ration bad ended. Gifts had been hung on the tree ready for the children when they came to visit during Christmas week. They would come with hearts full 6f joyand expectancy to receive their gifts. And we were ready, too . . ." for the greatest Gift of all, ~he Son of God Himself. At Vespers on Christmas Eve the lights from the four candles of the wreath flickered and caught in the jeWels of the decorated cross. A feel!ng of peace and joy filled each of us. Later when we drove with our neighbors to Midnight Mass we could almost hear the Angels singing, "Glory to God in the.highest . . ." And afterwards the gently falling snow seemed to enhance the feeling of peace and love as all exchanged the Merry Christmas greeting. I have written of many things during my first six months with the Rural Parish Workers. There are many more, all pointed to the development of Christian homes, wi~:h interest in government, edu-cation, culture and religious welfarel But you have not the time, ¯ nor I the space to include them here. UPon reading this you may. ti~ink all is Work and no play. But that is not true. Recreation is impor~tar~t in the life of a Parish. Worker. And in the evening you may find us reading, listening to. 247 SISTER M. AGNESINE, Review [or Religious the radio, playing cards, doing hand work according to one's inte~- "ests, and occasionally going to a movie. This summer we even took time out to, go swimming, hiking, picnicking, or for an evening drive. You see, we are just one happy family and all share in one another's joys or" sorrows, working, praying and p, laying together for the glory of God and the service, of.our neighbors. " If I intend becoming a Rural Parish Worker I must spend a pe-riod of reading and instruction, and learning what my duties would be in this area or any area to which I may be sent. Already I have seen the need of the work and the good the Parish Workers are doing. So I say, "God bless them and all their under-takings, and please send more workers for this vineyard." Paging !:he Religion Teacher Sister M. Agnesine, S.S.N.D. " " THE story is told of a prosperous business man who claimed that allMs success was due to a single statement left him as a legacy by his father: "My son, when everything goes wrong with you and ill luck seems to pursue you, then look around and see where you are mismanaging things." Instead of throwing up our hands in despair, as we realize the cryi~ag needs of a world strayed far from its. Maker, suppose that we, too, look around to see whether by any chance we religion teachers might be mismanaging things. Making Religion a Living Reality Granted that we are thoroughly equipped, theologically and in-tellectually, what else is required to assure our success? Let us as-sume that we teach our religion classes regularly and cgnscientiously. We may even boast that our pupils know all the answers. But have we any assurance that they also accept these truths and are prepared to live them? In other words, have we set their hearts on fire with love and motivated their wills with .a strong determination to live their religion intelligently and consistently all th'rough life? Their words alone are not sutticient assurance: neither is their more or less praiseworthy conduct in school. Their religion must be a-living re-ality. It must be~:gme so much a part, of their being that they can- 248 SeptemSer, 1953 PAGING THE RELIGION TEACHER not. lose it without losing life itself. To imbue children with such. a living faith means more than merely teaching Christian Doctrine. It means keeping in mind the fundamental needs of our times and directing pupils to meet these needs according to God's plan. It means, therefore, to help them un~derstand and appreciate God's complete ownership of the world and all it holds, and instilling in them a deep reverence for His au-thority. ,It means helping them to evaluate the things of time in the light of eternity; of making them seeall of life from God's point of view. It means preparing them to meet the problems of life, whether as humble employees, as members of a Christian family, or as leaders of a nation. It means impressing them with a sense of responsibility not only toward God but toward their fellowmen, whom they must recognize as members of the My.stical Body of Christ. It means, finally, giving them a sense of direction, so that they will always and above all things keep clearly in view their eternal destiny. Knou)ing Not Onlg What But Also Hou) to Teach How can the religion teacher,acco, mplisb so tremendous a task? He dare not excuse himself by saying that it is primarily the function of the home to train theyoung for Christian living. For, while he cannot, exempt parents from their duties, the wise teacher will first re-establish Christian ideals in the home through the boys and girls in his classes by teaching them to understand and accept the responsi-bilities of Christian marriage and Christian family life. All of this means more than imparting knowledge. It is not the printed or spoken word alone, no matter bow important in itself, that is necessarily convincing. If the teacher is to gain the desired effect, be must know not only u)bat to teach but how to teach. He must not only inform the pupil's mind but also aim to arouse his emotions to love the faith and to move his will to accept and live it. "Religion is no use" says Father Drinkwater, "until it is accepted and" lived." Teaching b~j Example To teach religion for Christian li~ing, therefore, we must pene-trate the thick shell of modern materialism which surrounds the n~en-tality of even our Catholic pupils. But to be able to do so, we must first of all be living examples of the truths we teach. To the young--. and to the old as well--we are the Church, ~ve are religion, we are 249 SISTER M. AGNESINE Review [or Religious Christ. And unless we outrival in all that is ¯good and true,.in all that is. noble and beautiful in the highest sense Of tl~e ~word, those who, knowingly or otherwise, contrive to shape .the aims, the atti-tudes, and the ideals of the young, we cannot hope to influence them for life. If we.teach that religion must take prec.edence over all other values in life and that therefore the religion lesson is the most imPor-tant of all subjects on the program, then we ourselves ¯will have to put first things first and prove by our regularity and zeal that we mean what we say. Then, too, we will quite naturally do all in our power to make the lesson the most fascinating and interesting sub-ject taught in the school. That means, ir~ the second place, that the teacher must have some knowledge of the techniques of teaching. All too many instructors of religion are still under the impression that all they need to do is to explain the subject ~ind that the child will naturally imbibe what is being said. They do not realize that in spite of a seemingly atten-tive attitude, the pupil is often miles ~way during the religion period : like the boy who, after hearing a long explanation of what it means to be selfish and unselfish, innocently asked the teacher what kind of fish that was. Making the Lesson Purposeful and Effectit)e The following questions may help the teacher to see more clearly whether the proper means are being used to make the lesson effective. Do I know how best to appeal to the child's heart, in language adapted to his age and ability? Do I strive not only to teach the Catechism lesson but more particularly to give children a lasting love and appreciation of those sacred truths? If they are leaving the Cath-olic school or study group shortly after these instructions, am I rea-sonably sure that I have instilled into their hearts the desire to grow in the knowledge and love of their faith, through the grace of the sacraments and also through a desire for further study and readir~g? Do I have a fund of convincing illustrations and stories, prefer-ably out of everyday life, that come close to the experience and un-derstanding of my pupils, so that they will the more' readily retain what I have tried to impress upon. them? Do I giye my students an opportunity to do things for them-selves, to ask questions, and think things througb.? Or do I do all the talking myself and take it for granted that th~ pupils are thinking and learning? 250 SISTER M. AGNESlNE, Review for Religious Do I know how to motivate their wills to action so that th~ knowledge of the truths they have learned will carry over to future years? When I teach the Mass, for example, do my pupils giadually learn to live and apply its beautiful prayers and lessons to themselves, not only for the present but especially for th~ years to come? Do I aim to bridge the gap between the day's seemingly unrelated lesson to tomorrow's realities? The sacrament of matrimony with all its implications is a case in point. How well do I prepare espe-cially those pupils who are about to leave the Catholic school, to ac-cept and appreciate the Church's teachings on the subject, and to lay firm hold on high ideals of Christian family life for future use? Am I familiar with the many teaching aids that are at my dis-posal to make my work more interesting and to help deepen the im-pression? Do I know how to use them to the best advantage? There are charts and pictures, fil~ns and slides in abundance. Can I distin-guish between what is most helpful and what is merely ~ntertaining? Do I realize the importance of making careful preparation for the daily.lesson? To outline my objectives? To divide the subject mat-ter according to its imporian~e and time allotment? To test pupil knowledge and particularly to evaluate my own teaching? reading By wrong, things. Acquiring Skill in Techniques How can the religion teacher acquire a fuller knowledge of those procedures that will best insure success? Here are a few suggestions: By accepting wholeheartedly the~ responsibility to teach ~eligion for living, that is, in a manner that will help those whom he teaches to lead fully integrated Christian lives. By keeping an open mind and realizing that no matter how ex-perienced or learned he may become, there is always room for im-- provement. " By prayerfully and conscientiously preparing the daily lessons and by carefully thinking the subject matter through himself, so that he may present it most effectively. .By keeping in touch with modern methods of teaching, through and lectures, and by observing experts in the field. looking around occasionally, especially when things go to see whether by any chance he might be mismanaging If, then, we are willing to face our problems and to set about en-thusiastically learning how to meet them, we may hope to add our little share in the great work of restoring 'all things in Christ. 251 Prac :ice: ot: !:he I-Ioly . ee Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. ~ T IS both profitable and commendable for religious to study the ~ d0~uments of the Holy See that affec~ their state of life., .This is particularly true at present, when the Sacred Congregation of Religious is exercising a more .positive and directive influence on the lives of religious. This article is devoted prin~ipally to' documents addr,essed to individual religious institutes. These are evidently not a matter of general knowledge but they are of general utility, since they reveal the practice and thee principles of the Holy See. I. ERECTION AND PONTIFICAL. APPROVAL OF CONGREGATIONS 1.Constituti.ons of. a new diocesan congregation. For at least the licit erection of a new diocesan congregation, the local Ordinary must first consult the Sacred ,Congregation of Religious.1 This. con-sultation is to be addressed to the S. C. of the Propagation of the Faith for the .erection of native congregations in missionary countries. Diocesafi constitutions should be compiled in conformity with the Code of Canon Law and the practice of the Holy See as found in the approved constitutions of pontifical congregations. They ate to dif-fer from pontifical constitutions only in the matters proper to dioce- .san congregations. For the attainment of this end the practice of the S. C. of the Propagati~'n of the Faith had already commanded that after the erection of the new congregation: "The Constitutions of the new congregation, in Latin and in the vernacular (at least six copies), must as soon as possible be submitted to this Sacred Congregation so that they may be duly examined, amended, and returned with suit-able remarks to the Ordinary, to be approved by him.''2 The S. C. of Religious now follows the same practice and demands that the local Ordinary present the complete text of the 'constitutions with the con-sultation for the erection of the new diocesan congregation.3 At least one author had previously recommended such a practice to local Or-dinaries.~ The fear, already expressed by some authors, that this oractice 1Can. 492. § 1. 2Bouscaren, II, 158, n. 10. 3Larraona, CpR, XXVIII (1949), 228, nota ). 4Muzzarelli, n. 53. 252 PRACTICE OF THE HOLY SEE will ~ause an excessive similarity in the constitutions of various insti-tutes can be avoided by greater care in the. compil~tion of the spir-itual, as distinct from the canonical, ~rticles of the constitutions. The practice will also preclu,de the opposition that often arises when the ihstitute wishes to become pontifical. This opposition is usually con-cerned" with matters that are thought to be new but which should have been contained in the diocesan constitutions of the congregation, for example,~e system of delegates for the. general chapter and the six-year term~'Bf the superior general. 2. Mbtters to be presented fora decree of praise. A diocesan con-gregat! on ordinarily becomes pontifical by a decree of praise, With which the Holy See practically always now grants an experimental approval of the constitutions for seven years. The conditions neces-sary for pontifical approval are: the congregation by a sufficient test~ of time should have given proof of stability, religious observance, and of spirituai profit in its work; it is sufficient that the congregation number one hundred and fifty ~nembers and.is not necessary that the congregation have houses in more than one diocese. These facts are established primarily from the testimonial letters of the local Ordi-naries. To obtain a decree of praise the following matters are to be sent to the S. C. of Religious: a) A petition for the decree, of praise addressed to the Ron~an Pontiff and signed by the superior general and his or her c~uncillors. b) The testimonial letters of all the local Ordinaries in whose dioceses or territories the congregation has houses. Each local Ordi-nary is to send his letter directly to the S. Congregation. c) The"number of religious and houses. The S. Congregation will be aided in its judgment on the system of delegates for the gen-eral chapter !f the houses are listed in a tabular form that gives sepa-rarely the number of professed of perpetual and temporary vows in each house. d) The name in religion, full name in the world, and a brief biography of the founder or foundress and of the first superior of the congregation. e) The S. Congregation is to be informed of any extraordinary facts, such as visions and the like, .that occurred at the foundation of the congregation or thereafte~ and also of the special devotions and special and. favored religious exercises of the congregation. f) A copy of any special book of prayers in use in the congrega-tion. 253 ,JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious g) A colored picture of the habit of the professed and of the novices. h) 30 typed copies of the constitutions. These should prefer-ably be in Latin, but French or Italian is admissible. The constitu-tions should have been revised, for the new pontifical status and have been previously examined and approved by the local Ordinary of the motherhouse. They are to conform to the Code of Canon Law and the practice .of FheHoly See, and are to contain the norms and safe-guards necessary for attaining the special end of the c~regation. A recent form letter of the S. Congregati6n appears to demand only two copies of the constitutions, but it is not certain that the former num-ber of thirty is no longer obligatory,s i) Information is to be given as to the number of members who were formerly in other religious institutes. j) An historico-juridical account of the congregation from its beginning. k) A quinquennial report, which may be in the vernacular, for the five years immediately preceding the petition and compiled ac-cording to the questions of the new quinquennial report for pontifical institutes. 'A question that can apply only. to a pontifical institute will obviously not be pertinent. ¯ l) It is to be stated whether there are other religious institutes in the diocese with the same special purpose. m) If the congregation is a third order, an attestation of aggre-gation from the superior general of the first order must accompany the petition. n) The. superior general, with the consent of the local Ordinary of the motherhouse, is to designate a secular or religious priest resident in Rome to act as agent for the matter with the S. Congregation. 3. Miscellaneous details. The expense incurred at Rome for the de:- cree of praise is to be classed as insignificant. The. process can be quite slow. One American congregation mailed the necessary mat-ters to Rome in June, 1950, and received the reply in March, i953. During the pontificate of Pius XII (1939-1952) the decree of praise has been obtained by ninety-two congregations; the highest number in any one year was twelve;" and eight of the congregations listed have their motherbouses in the United States.6 4. Continuance of superiors in ottice. Muzzarelli states that on the scf. Guti,%rez, CpR, XXXIV (1953), 129. 6Cf.Guti~rrez, ibid., 130-138. 254 September, 1953 PRACTICE OF THE HOLY SEE occasion of obtaining pontifical approval .or of a new approbation of the constitutions the general, provincial, and local superiors.remain in office but only for the time for which they had been elected or ap-pointed. At the expiration of this period a new election or appoint-ment is necessary. The ~ame principle is to be applied to general, provincial, and local councillors and officials. Canon la.w regulate.s precisely the duration in office of a local su-perior, who may not have more than two successive full three-year terms in the sam~ house inclusive of the time in office hnder the for-mer and the new constitutions. However, in the case of higher su-periors the Code merely.prescribes that they are to be temporary and leaves the determined legislation on the duration.and re-election or re-appointment to the constitutions. The almost universal practice of the Holy See in approving constitutions now gives the superior gen-eral a term of six years and permits an immediate re-election only for a second ttrm. A mother general who had two full six-year terms expiring after the approval of the new constitutions is fully eligible for a six-year term, and even for immediate re-election on the expira-tion of this term, under the newly approved constitutions. The time spent in office under the former constitutions is not to be computed, since these have now lost all force.7 II. LAW 1, Observance ot: laud. It is evidently the duty of superiors to en-force the exact observance of all the pertinent laws of the Church on religious, the Rule, and the constitutions. Negligence in the observ-ance of inual[dating laws on religious can have most serious conse-quences, and this is especially true of invalidating laws on the novice-. ship and professions. The S. C. of Religious gently admonished the superiors of one institute to be more diligent in the future in com-plying with all the laws on the noviceship and the professions. 2. Exaggerated custom books. Customs are necessary for order, effi-ciency, and reasonable uniformity, but some custom books have been too minute and oppressive. From unofficial reports and summaries this appears to have been the thought at the meeting of superioresses general of pontifical institutes held at Rome in September, 1952. Greater attention is to be given to the spirit of the law, since the law of any institute should be the incarnation of its spirit. Not many prayers, but prayer is what is necessary. Formalism, legalism, and ;Muzzarelli, pp. 206-207. 255 JOSgPH F. GALLEN ' Revietv for Religious externalism are to be avoided. The centering of the religious life in the fulfillment of innumerable details, formalities, and observances should be abandoned. Religious are magnanimgus souls who have sacrificed everything to attain and intensify the love of God, not fussy externalists. III. HABIT OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN 1. Form o~ the "~abit. Pius XII expressed the. general principle on the habit of religious women when he state~l that it should manifest the consecration to Christ, religious simplicity and modesty, and be in conformity with time, place, work, and hygiene.8 This norm does not demand any universal and fundamental change in the traditional habit of religious women. Furthermore, the prin, ciple is not new in the practice of the Holy See. The Normae of 1901 stated that the habit in material, form, arrangement, and color~ should conform to religious dignity, gravity, modesty, and poverty, and that "it should exclude any adornment that was apt to l~rovoke adverse comment or ridicule.9 In its typical constitutions for diocesan missio.nary con-gregations the S. C. of tl~e Propagation of the' Faith enjoined: "The habit is to be simple, accommodated to the usages of the people and the climate and not to European customs.''1° In the Statutes for Ex-tern Sisters the S. C. of Religious cdmmanded that the habit of these sisters was to be suitably adapted to their external work and also to external and local circumstances.1~ Sincere reverence for the religio~s habit does not exclude neces-sary modifications. The more practical doubts that arise about some habits seem to be of the following nature: Is sufficient allowance made in .the habit as a whole for the heat of summer and the cgld of winter? The cove~ing of tl~e head and face often causes a questiQn in the chance observer by its stiffness, closeness, ornateness, the time evi-dently necessary for laundering, the extension of the covering beyond the face, and in a.few cases this part of the habit appears to be pro-vocative of adverse comment. We may be permitted one illustration of these observations. The extension beyond the, face does not con-tribute to safety in driving an au.tomobile, frequently makes conver-sation somewhat unnatural, and ~nust be an obstacle in such cases as working on .a patient with a doctor. This is not the most serious SAAS, 43 (1951), 741; 44 (1952),.825. . 9Normae of 1901, nn. 66-67. ' lONormae pro Constitutionibus" Cong(egationum luris Dioecesani, n. 19. IIStatuta a Sororibus Externis Seruanda, n. 26. 256 September, 1953 PRACTICE OF THE HOLY SEE defect that has b~en noted in some religious habits. The sane and practical principles of the Holy See are clear in themselves. Each habit should be sincerely examined on its conformity with these prin-ciples. 2. White habit. The Holy See has f~equently approved in constitu'- tions an ;irticl~ permitting the use of the white habit to hospital sis-ters and to those for whom such dress is necessitated or counselled by other duties or the climate. This habit is accordingly in use in sev-" eral institutes in the infirmary, kitchen, in teaching home economics, and. in similar duties. We can argue safely from the practic~ of the Holy See that such a use of th~ white habit is permitted in all insti-tutes of religious women. The white habit should be as similar as possibl'e to the ordinary habit within the demands of hospital effi-ciency, which is its primary use. The ordinary habit does not have. to be worn under the white habit. 3. Change in the habit. A change in the habit of a pontifical insti-tute or of a diocesan congregation whose habit had been submitted to the judgment of the Holy See may not be made wit,ho,ut the permis-sion of the Holy See; in other diocesan congregations the permissior{ of all the Ordinaries in whose dioceses the congregation has houses is necessary and sufficient.12 Since the habit ik prescribed by the consti-tutions, a change must also have been previously approved by the general chapter. It can be safely held that only a change in the ex-ternal appearance of the habit demands these formalities. The Nor-mae of 1901 required the permission of the S. Congregation only for a change in the appearance (t:orrna) of the habit,13 and the Holy See approves constitutions that demand the permission of the S. Congre-gation only for a change-in the form or color. These constitutions. permit the mother general with at least the advice of her council to, make other changes in the habit, for example, in the material, and this norm should be followed by all institutes for a change that does hot affect the externa! appearance of the habit. IV. DOWRY AND RENUNCIATION OF PATRIMONY IN CONGREGATIONS l. Dowrg. The dowry'is and always has been proper to institutes of women. An amount larger than the one prescribed may be re-ceived as a dowry. An institute that does not exact a dowry may ~2Can. 495, '§ 2. 13Normae of 1901, n. 70; cf. n. 69. 257 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Reviev2/:or Religious receive a dowry that is f~eely offered as such. A subject may give, comple'te, or augment a dowry during the novic~ship and after first or final simple profession. In all the cases listed above the amount that may be given is unlimited, but any amount accepted as a dowry is subject to the laws on the dowry. ' These statements are accepted canonical doctrine.14 2. Renunciation of patrimong in'a congregation of women. The point here can be more clearly proposed in the form of a case. Sister M. Anita, a professed sister in a congregation, has a patrimony of $50,000. She wishes to give the entire amount to her institute, but can. 583, 1°, forbids her, whether her congregation is pontifical or diocesan, to give away this money during her life without a _dispensa-tion from the Holy See. When asked recently for such a dispensa-tion, the S. Congregation replied that the sister, without any permis-sion. of the Holy See~ could give the money to her institute as a dowry or as an increase in her dowry. If the institute wishes to spend any part of the $50,000, permission of the Holy See will be necessary, because can. 549 forbids the expenditure of the dowry. This per-missio, n will be given if the. institute furnishes satisfactory guarantee of returning the capital sum to the sister in the event of her departure from the institute. The interest on the $50,000 is acquired abso-lutely by the institute, but the capital sum must be restored to Sister M. Anita if she definitively leaves the institute, licitly or illicitly, whether her vows have been dispensed or not,15 This is the prefer-able solution of the case, since it was proposed by the S. Congrega-tion itself. The same solution may be followed in any congregation of reli-gious women for either a professed or a novice. A dowry given during the noviceship passes into the revocable proprietorship of the institute only at first profession and thus is not a violation of can. 568, which invalidates any renunciation or obligation that a novice places on his or her patrimony during the noviceship.16 The institute is the mere depositary of the dowry, without p~oprietorship, use, or usufruct during the postulancy and noviceship. 3. Renunciation of patrimonV in a congregation of men or women. The prohibitior~ of can. 583, 1°, quoted above, applies to all congre-gations of men Or women. However, according to the common in- 14Cf. q. 194 of the Quinquennial Report [or Pontifical Institutes. 1SCan. 551, § I. 16Cf. Larraona, CpR, XIX (1938), nora 17. 258 September, 1953 PRACTICE OF THE HOLY SEE terpretation, this prohibition does not ~xtend to the case in which t'he patrimony is given away, wholly or partially, on the agreement and with secure guarantee that it will be restored if- the religious should leave the institute or be dismissed. Professed religious in congrega-tions of men may thus follow this solution, for example, to give their patrimony to their institute. If this solution is follbwed, no law of the Code obliges the institute to secure the permission of the Holy See for the spending of the money. 4. Partial renunciation of patrimony in a congregation of men or women. Without any permission .of the Holy See, professed reli-gious iri congregations of men or women may with safe pr6bability give away absolutely to anyone even a large part of their patrimony provided the amount retained is sufficient to take care of the support of the religious in the event of departure from the.institute. A patri-mony that is. so small as to be entirely inadequate for such support does not fall under the prohibition of can. 583, 1% and may be given away absolutely to anyone,a7 5. New tendency in povert~l of congregations. There are indications that some wish the poverty arising from the simple vow in congre-gations to be made the same or at least to approach more closely the poverty effected by solemn profession, for example, by permitting the professed of simple perpetual vows in congregations to give away all their patrimony.~8 Only one known concession has thus far been granted by the Holy See in this matter. An institflte of religious women of simple vows obtained the following indult from the Holy See in February, 1951: "With the consent of the Prioress General and of bet Council, and upon a favourable report from the Mother .I_n_st_ructor, the religiou.s __m_a.y.at. tb.e _e.n_~ of .tb_e!_r tert.ianship, that is, about ten years after their first profession in the Institute, and pro-vided they have made perpetual vows, renounce their personal prop-erty present and future in favour of the persons or institutions whom they judge before God to merit their preference." V. ADMISSION OF ASPIRANTS The following articles, found in some constitutions recently ap-proved by the Holy See, will be of interest to other institutes. The candidate is obliged to present a testimonial of her free state, that is, lvCf. Bastien, n. 543, 3; Larraona. CpR, II (1921), 71-76. lSCf. Acta et Documenta Congressus Generalis de Statibus Perfectionis, I, 377,429- 431. 259 3OSEPH'F. GALLEN " Ret~ietu for .Religious ¯ of her freedom from impediments. The testimonial of good character is to ,be obtained from the pastor or another known priest. ,The S. Congregation inserted the following article in one set of' constitu-tions: "The Mother General is to interrogate accuratgly on the mat-ter of health, especially concerning diseases that are classed as heredi-tary, and she is to record in writing the replies of both the aspirant and her.parents or guardians." VI. P0STULANCY Although the practice of the Holy See was said to demand that the time of the postul~ncy be accurately determined in the constitu-tions, thre'e sets of constitutions recently approved for congregations of sisters state this time only indefinitely, that is, "for .at least six months," and "not less than six months." A. congregation 6f sisters, whose postulancy is six months, re-quested and,received from the Holy See an indult for fivel years to prolong the postulancy two and a half months for all. This pro-longation will make it possible to complet~ a full coll~ge year during the postulancy. The Apostolic Delegate possesses the faculty of shortening or prolonging the postulancy prescribed by canon law.19 VII. SECOND YEAR OF NOVICESHIP 1. Dispensation. Canon law commands only one year of novice-ship, but many institutes prescribe a second year by the law of their own constitutions. The Holy See evidently does not wish an insti-tute to make a ~practice of asking dispensations from this second year. One pontifical congregation added the second year only recently, and {he Holy See granted an indult for three yeats to one of its provinces to have only. one year of noviceship. The province was.in extra-ordinary and urge.nt need of personnel. 2. Ernptogment in external" works. On November 3, 1921, the "S. C. of Religious issued an Instruction for all congregations, pon-tifical and diocesan, on the employment of novices in the external works of the institute during the second year of noviceship. " The Holy See inserts the principles of this Instruction in the constitutions of pontifical congregations. They should, therefore, be contained also in'diocesan constitutions, either approved 6riginally or revised after the promulgation of the Instruction.' These princil~!es are: (a) The spiritual formation proper to the noviceship.must be pri- 19Bouscaren, 1948 Supplement, 131. 260 September, 1953 PRACTICE OF THE HOLY SEE mary in the second year, employment in external works secondary. (b) This employment is allowable only if permitted by the consti- . tutions, custom, or usage of the congregation. (c) The only licit motive for such employment is the instruction of the novices, never th,e utility or advantage of the congregaiion. (d) The employment is to be carried out witb.~ruderice and moderation. Novices are never to have the sole charge of any external employment but are to work under the direction and supervision of an experienced and exemMary religious. (e) Novices may not be sent out of the novitiate house for such employment unless this is permitted by the constitutions, custom, or usage and the motive is exceptional, extraordinary, seri-otis, and based solely on ~be requirements of the. novice's t~aining, never on the necessity or advantage of the congregation. (F) All such employments must be given up for the two full months pre-ceding first profession, and this time is to be devoted wholly to svir-itual formation and to preparation for profession in the novitiate house?0 A congregation of sisters stated simply in a quinq.uennial report that i~ employed the second-year novices in external works. The reply of the Holy See contained the statement that the Instruction quoted above was to be observed.21 An unofficial summary of the Roman meeting of superioresses general quotes the Secretary of the S. Congregation, Father Larraona, as having r~asserted the principles of the Instruction. He is also reported as having stated that there are always dangers attendant upon this work outside the novitiate. The motive for a second year of noviceship has b~en the necessity of a deeper spiritual formation in institutes, devoted to a very active life. This motive is verified in practically all modern congre, gations. No one experienced in the training of young religious will deny that two years are too brief a period for a proper spiritual formation. It is not very reasonable to prescribe prudently a second year of novice-ship in law and then imprudently overturn the law in fact. This is the reason why the S. Congregation insists on the fundamental prin-ciple that the second year must be maintained as a year of novicesbip. Employment outside the novitiate house should be even mor~ care-fully avoided. The practical consequence of separation from the master or mistress o'f novices is almost always'the lack of any spir-itual formation proper to a noviceship. A sincere examination of the ~°Bouscaren I, 302-304. ¯ 21Cf. q. 176 of the Quinquenn:,al Ro~ort for Pontifical Institutes. 261 JOSEPH F. (3ALLEN ReOiew for Religio,,s effects of employing the second-yehr novices in external works will lead to a more universal observance of this most important Instruc-tion of the Holy See. VIII. PROFESSION I. Dispensation from longer period of temporary vows. The Code of Canon Law prescribes that a perpetual profession, solemn or simple, is invalid unless preceded by three full years of temporary vows.zz Only the Holy See may wholly or partially abbreviate this triennium in any institute; since the abbreviation would be a dispen-sation from the law of the Roman Pontiff. The same principle and reason are true with regard to permitting perpetual profession before the completion of the twenty-first year.23 Some institutes impose a longer period of temporary vows by the law of tfieir own constitutions. This period is usually five, much more rarely six, years. These added years are required only for the liceity o~ perpetual profession unless the constitutions certainly de~ mand them for validity. The latter is practically never permitted by the Holy See in approving constitutions. The constitutions of one pontifical congregation of brothers state that the prescribed five years of temporary .vows are required for the validity of its simple per-petual profession. ¯ In diocesan congregations the local Ordinary may dispense from the entir~ added duration of temporary vows if it is required only for the liceity of perpetual profession24 and probably also when it is demanded for the validity of the latter,25 since he is the legislator for such congregations.~6 Many canonis~s would very likely demand that the dispensation be secured from the Holy See in the latter case, if we mawr argue from their similar doctrine on a dispensation from the second.year of noviceship. The local Ordinary has no power to dispense in this matter in pontifical congregations. Some authors .permitted the religious superior who admits to perpetual profession to abbreviate briefly the added duration of tem-porary vows, for example, to dispense from three months of a six-year period, but they restricted this faculty to the case. in which the 2ZCan. 572, § 2; 574, § 1. ~Can. 572, § 1, I°;. 573; 574, § 1. z4Cf. Bouscaren, II, 167. 25Cf. Regatillo," Interpretatio et lurisprudentia, 172; Instituti'ones furls Canonici, I, n. 698. Z6Can. 492, § 2: 495, § 2; 80. 262 September, 1953 PRACTICE OF THE HOLY SEE added duration was required only for the liceity of perpetual pro-fession. 27 However, in the constitutions of pontifical congregations recently approved, the S. C. of Religious ,has been adding the clause that the Holy Seealone may dispense wholly or partially from the added duration, even when required only for the liceity of perpetual profession. Therefore, the faculty of abbreviation given to religious superiors in the doctrine of authors quoted above is more probably not true. The better doctrine is that they possess this power only if it is expressly granted to them by a general or. particular principle of their law. Otherwise any dispensation from the added duration in pontifical congregations should be secured from the Holy See .and in diocesan congregations from the local Ordinary. 2. Prolongation of temporary prot:ession beyond six years forbidden. The point here also can be more clearly proposed in a case. Brotl~er Francis Joseph made his temporary profession at the age of seven-teen. His profession extended to the completion of his twenty-first ~'ear. At the latter time and after the brother has spent four years in temporary vows, his higher superior is doubtful of his suitability for perpetual profession. May this superior prolong the temporary vows for another three years? Tlhe source of the difficulty is can. 574, § 2, which states: "The legitimate superior may prolong this period but not beyond a second term of three years . " The more probable interpretation of this canon has been that a pro.longation is illicit if thereby the entire pe-riod of temporary vows exceeds six years. The. contrary opinion was admitted to be probable and safe. One of the arguments for the first opi.nion has been the practice of the Holy See. The S. C. of Religious has constantly admitted a prolongation of only one year when the constitutions prescribed five years of temporary vows and has excluded any prolongation when the constitutions imposed six years of temporary vows. It was con-cluded that the S. Congregation did not wish the period of temporary vows to exceed six years. This argument is strengthened by the cur-rent practice of the S. Congregation, since recently approved consti-tutions contain the explicit statement that the entire period of tem-porary vows may not exceed six years. Furthermore, Larraona states that the 1)emporary profession may never be prolonged beyond six years without violating the Code and affirms that this has been de- 27Cervia, 128; Goyeneche, CpR, IX (1928), 325; Schafer, n. 973. 263 J(~SEPH F. G?~LLEN for Religious tided in plenary sessions of the S. Congregation and in audiences.28 He and Guti~rrez state that this same doctrine is based on a reply of the Code~ Commission, has been the constant in(erpretation and prac-tice of the S. CongrFgation, and conclude that a prolongation beyond six years in any institute demands an indult of the Holy See?9 This conclusion is justified by the arguments, even though the reply of the Code Commission has not been published. The solution of the case given at the beginning of t.bis number is accordingly that the vows of Brother Francis Joseph may be pro-longed for two years but a prolo,ngation beyond the six years de-mands an indult from the Holy See, whether the institute is pontifical or diocesan. 3. Place of first ternporar~lprofession. Can. 574, § 1, commands for liceity that the first temporary profession be made in the novitiate house. The Code prescribes nothing concerning the place of sub'se-quent temporary professions nor of perpetual profession, solemn or . simple. Constitutions frequently explicitly state that these may be made in" any house of the institute. For a proportionate reason, the S. C. of Religious.will grant a dispensation permitting the first temporary profession to be m~ide outside the novitiate house. If a motherhouse is under the authority of the one local superior and consists of a novitiate, juniorate, ter-tianship, and an academy for girls, the first profession may be made in any part of such a motberhous~ without a dispen.sation from the Holy See. The canon does not demand that the first profession be made within the part of the house reserved for or used by the novices but in the novitiate bourse. Th.erefore, a first profession m~ide any- .where in the latter satisfies the prescription of this canon. 4. Private devotional renetoal of vows. Constitutions approved by the Holy See often counsel th~ freqiient private .renewal of vows, especially after the reception of Holy Communion. Such constitu-tions usually add that special indulgences are attached t'o the latter ¯ practice. It is true that an indulgence, of three years is attached to such a renewal after the celebration of Mass or the reception of Holy Communion,3° but it is difficult to see why such a fact should be men-tioned in the constitutions, which are to contain.the more funda-mental laws of the institute. ,- 2SLarraona, CpR, XXVIII (1949), 196, nota 17. ~Larraona-Guti~rrez, ibid., 332~ .nota 42. 3ORaccolta, n. 695. 264 September, 1953 5. Special vows. The Holy~ See manifested from at least 1892 that it would no longer approve special vows in new institutes.31 The -same principle has been reaffirmed on more than one occasion. congregation of sisters, approved by the Holy See before 1850, re-cently asked the S. Congregation of Religious for an authentic inter-pretation of its constitutions on the. existence of a fourth and fifth vow. The S. Congregation in its first reply affirmed the existence of ¯ both vows, since the language of the formula of profession and the history of the matter clearly indicated that these were intended as special vows. The fourth vow was the ser'~ice of the poor, sick, and ignorant. This is especially the 'type of vow'that the Holy See will not ~dmit in new institutes, since it constitutes the special end of the institute, is already an obligation of the constitutions, and is accordingly pri-mary remot~ matter of the vow of obedience. The fifth vow, taken also in temporary profession, was that ofperseverance. A. second reply of the S. Congregation clarified this fifth vow: "The fifth vow of persevering in the same vows is to be understood in the following sense. The obligation of persevering temporarily or perpetually, ac-cording to the mind and practice of this Sacred Congregation, is in-cluded in the temporary or perpetual profession. Accordingly the words of the formula of profession on perseverance are not to be ¯ understood in th~ sense of another vow." The Holy See and authors have also defined the special vow of stability, taken in imitation of the Benedictine vow, as being con-tained in the obligation of perpetual profession,aa The vow of s~a-bility of Benedictine Sisters is defined: "By the vow of stability the Sisters attach themselves to the hbuse of their profession and ufiite themselves with the religious family there existing, and promise never to 'wrest their necks from under the yoke of the Rule.' " It is not impossible to find different and approved definitions of these special vows in theconstitutions of pon.tifical institutes, for example, that of stability. IX. TELEPHONE AND RADIO In a recent approval of the constitutions of a congregation of sis-ters, the H01y See inserted the.article: "The use of the telephone and alBattandier, n. 186¯ 32Normae'of 1901, n. 102¯ 33Bastien, n. 481. 2: Battandier, n. 187. 265 ,JOSEPH F. (3ALLEN ,Review [or Religious radio is to be regulated by the superior." In its reply to the quin-quennial report of the same type of congregation, the Holy See stated: "Listening to the radio in private does not appear becoming; therefore it would be better to forbid it." X. WORKS OF THE INSTITUTE § 1 Teaching Sisters and School~ 1. duniorates. This section on the works of the institute contains the most practical matter of this article. Unless otherwise noted, the articles quoted in this section have been inserted by the Holy See in constitutions approved during the past two or three years. The articles on the juniorate are: "After their profes,sion the Mother General shall assemble the junior professed in houses of formation, where, under the direction of a competent, l~Iistress, they shall attend Catholic schools, if. such exist. They shall be supplied with all m~ans necessary' for the pur-pose and shall apply themselves diligently to the attainment of diplo-mas that will be recognized also civilly." ¯ "During this time of formation it will be profitable to supple-ment the classes with lectures and instructions by learned Catholics, who shall emphasize the relation of teaching with Catholic faith and morals." The question of juniorates was discussed at the meeting o~ the superioresses general in Rome. The value and necessity of juniorates were clearly seen, but their immediate initiation, program, extension, and duration were left. to the individual institutes. The necessity of appointing a special Mistress of Junior Professed, distinct from the local superior, . was stated more categorically. It is to be noted that the article quoted above is far more absolute than the unofficial ,re-ports of the Roman meeting. I doubt that any experienced higher superior of congregatio,ns of brothers or sisters denies the necessity of juniorates for the proper spiritual formation and education of subjects. I personally believe that the necessity of juniorates has passed the point of discussion and opinion; it is now a matter of conviction and urgency. Congrega-tions of brothers and sisters should immediately institute a juniorate. This means that the junior professed will not be applied to the ex-ternal works of the institute until they. have completed their under-graduate studies. Extyerience proves that there is only one way of attaining this supremely important object: the superior general must 266 September, PRACTICE OF THE HOLY rise to his or her strongest moment and command it. Let no one swell the low notes of those who chant mournfully that it cannot be done: whaf has been done can be done. If the argument is proposed that the junior professed should be tested in the external works and life of the institute before perpetual profession, the answer is easy. The institute can study the expediency of increasing, with proper permission, the prescribed period of temporary vows to five or six years. The juniorate for those destined to be nurses will require study and investigation for the attainment of a suitable program. 2. Preparation for perpetual profession. This number and the pre-. ceding apply equally to brotbe~s and sisters destined for works other than teaching. At the Roman meeting of superioresses general the withdrawal of the junior professed from the ordinary life of the in-stitute for one or several months of renovation of spirit and of deeper and more mature spiritual formation before perpetual profession ap-pears to have been authoritatively favored. However, this can scarcely be held as necessary if the institute has an-adequate junior-ate. It will also be very close to the noviceship, since most institutes have only three years of temporary vows. While I do not deny the merit of this suggestion, it seems to me to be far more necessary for institutes of brothers and sisters to study the initiation of such a program several years after perpetual profession, when the religious has spent more years in the ordinary life and works of the institute and is in the age group of thirty to thirty-five. This is the critical age for religious. The vision and heart of spiritual youth have often suffered a slow death from worldliness, selfishness, the gradual e'xclu-sion of mortification, the abandonment of real prayer, and the de-structive, disillusioning, and even embittering example of others. It is. the age that needs spiritual revivification and rejuvenation. If this is not had, the soul can readily grow old with the body and crawl into eternity as enfeebled by mediocrity as the body is by age. A longer period is desirable, but it would be sufficient to devote one full summer to such a renovation. This plan does not exclude the advisability of the renovation before perpetual profession, but the necessity, value, intensity, and duration of such a renovation would depend on the length of the noviceship, the existence of a juniorate, the number of years spent in the active life, and the adop-tion of the later renovation here recommended. 3. Continuation of studies after the junforate. "After they have received their diplomas, it is the duty of the 267 JOSEPH F.'GAIzLEN Rebiew For Religious Sisters t6 advance their k~towledge by unremitting study anal reading of the books that are constantly being published." Th~ sense of this article admits no doubt, but its present observ-ance is more than doubtful; It is safe to assert that the daily average time granted to sisters for preparation for class and advancement is about an hour. If this is sufficient for preparation for class and ad-vancement, it seems equally safe to hold that only a genius may am-bition the life of a sister. ¯ The article is merely a dictate of common sense for instittites de-voted, to teaching. It will never be properly observed unless careful thought is given to such headings¯ as the following: learning is not incompatible with true piety: a solid and inspiring education in the juni0rate; the elimination of interminable vocal prayers in common: the realization tbat some spiritual duties may be made privately; the quick and painless death of the restlesshorarium that finds peace only in the clangor of. the bell; peaceful acquiescence in the fact that study in'one's room or cell is not forbidden by the natural'or canon law:~ sufficient sleep, holidays, and vacations; .a notable lessening of the time given to domestic work; the employment of more lay teachers and more secular help for domestic work; finally and especially; the elimination of the present totally unreasonable overwork. We can aptly add the admonition given by the Holy See in its reply to the quinquennial report of one institute. There are very few institutes of brothers and sisters that cannot profit by. this ~idmoniti6n: "If possible, something should be done to correct the situation whereby the' sisters, exhausted by excessive labor, are apparently exposed to many difficulties and dangers and consequently fail in carrying out, the religious life." An unofficial summary of the Roman meeting ~f superioresses general contains some very pertinent thoughts on this heading. Let us hope that the superiors subscribed .to these thoughts as actualities to be attained and not as 'the dreams of a waning summer. These thoughts are: "Maternai care must be taken of the health of the religious; the work of each must be orderly and moderate; each religious must have time for her exercises of piety." "The schedules must always be reasonable and adapted to the various regions and apostolic ministries today confided to religious." "In their individual houses, the Superiors General will provide for all the Religious the possibility and facility; 'of a Christian life 268 September, 1953 PRACTICE OF: THE HOLY SEE (with the Sacraments, the Word of God, Spiritual Direction, etc.) and of Religious life with the posiibility of carrying out the duties imposed on them by their consecration to God (day~ of Retreat, Spir-itual Exercises, and spiritual practices common to the individual In-stitute) ." "It must be remembered that the a~ostolate is also a science and an art and that the Holy See insists on the elevation of the literary. technical and professional culture of the Religious, on the absolute necessity of degrees required for the exercise of the various profes-sions: on the necessity of aspirin~ to a greater degree of proficiency, never thinking that one's culture is adequate f9r the present need." 4. Progress and annual meeting. "The Congregation is to adopt, the prhisewortby custom of an annual meeting of all the Sister teachers, under the presidency of the Mother General. for a discussion of methods of teaching and of the traditional pedagogy of the Congregation, in order that the schools of the Congregation may not only equal but surpass secular schools." 5. Subjects at~o to be studied. The following article will encourage those who are promoting courses of theology for brothers or sisters. Such a course should be partially completed in the juniorate. "They ar~ to study also dogmatic and moral theology, ecclesiasti-cal history, sociology, liturgy, Gregorian chant, and similar matters. For all of these studies the Sisters are to be" supplied with books for their individual and constant use." 6. Library. The community library, especially in small religious houses, can readily be neglected. If we had the pen and unction of Kempis, we would lament that the food of the modern monk is more abundant than his books. The library should be augmented con-stantly with books appert~aining to the subjects taught in the school and also with newly published spiritual and cultural books. The article of the Holy See On the library is: "Each house shall have a library containing Catholic books on the entire field of pedagogy." 7. Teaching of Christian doctrine. "The Sisters shall not forget that they must be approved by the local Ordinary for the teaching of Christian doctrine." "In explaining Christian doctrine, the Sisters .shall proceed gradually and, as far as possible, they shall aim to instill into the minds ,of their, pupils a thorough knowl~edge of the tt, u_ths of o~faith rather than to have them commit to memory a series of formulas." 269 JOSI~PH F. GALLEN Review For Religious The following articles were inserted' by the Holy See in the con-stitutions of a congregation especially dedicated to the teaching of Christian doctrin~ and approved finally by the Holy See in 1949. "Since the sacred sciences are especially helpful to an' understand-ing of Christian doctrine, the Sisters shall place great emphasis on the .study bf dogmatic, moral, and pastoral theology, eccl~siastical history, and similar subjects. A collection of books on Christian doctrine, especially ~f recent worthwhile publications, is to be ac-cessible to the Sisters and others who devote themselves to the teaching of Christian doctrine." ""It will be very advantageous for the Sisters, with the proper authorization', to publish and distribut~ printed works on Christian doctrine." 8. Some norms of teachin~l. , "The Sisters. shall take care that order and cleanliness are ob-served in the classroom." "They should stu.dy the character and disposition of mind of all their pupils and are to unite a certain gentleness of treatment with strictness, when/he latter is necessary." "The 'inordinate inclinations oi the children are to be corrected gradually, and they are to be aided in the acquisition of good habits by the stimulus of admdnition, opportune advice, and by bringing to light the law Of conscience, which,'as is well known, appears from the earliest years." "Offensive speech~ blows, and intemperate anger are to be avoided in punishments. A moral sense of responsibility for theii actions rather than servile fear is to be inculcated in the minds of the chil-dren." "The Sisters are to refrain absolutely from partiality and prefer-ence in their relations with the children. The deportment and coun-tenance of the.Sisters should manifest an evenness of disposition and kind.heSS united with something of reverence." "" "Experience proves that the fostering of the interior life, which is developed by good actions, faith in God, and self-sacrifice, appears even in young children as the right and safe path along which life is to be guided." "A love of modesty is to be developed in girls with regard to dress, deportment and their conduct with others." 270 " September, 1953 .PRACTICE OF THE HOLY SEE § 2 Sister Nurses arid Hospitals 9. Training and.continued pr6gress. "['he problem of overwork is particularly acute in the case of brothers and sisters applied to hos-pitals. In some religious hospitals a weekly holiday is apparently unknown. The continuation of this practice is unthinkable. Every brother and sister nurse should have at least one day a week that is completely free from hqspital duties, and it would contribute' much to 'their health, quiet of mind, and spirituality to spend as often as possiblea notable part of this weekly holiday awa.y from the hos-pital environment. Overwork will not facilitate the continued study and progress demanded by th~ following article that is inserted in constitutions by .the Holy See: "The Sister nurse must strive to increase her knowledge after she has secured a diploma valid also according to civil law." I0. Medical ethics. "A Sister is to refrain from administering medicines or assisting at Operations that are forbidden by the Church. In cases of doubt she is to consult the Superior." "Especially in extraordinary and important cases where there are at stake .the preservation of a human life, reverence for the human person, and care for the conscience of the patient, even if it is a case of extreme pain and gi.ves rise to such questions as euthanasia and others of similar nature,, the Sister shall be careful to give no help to an ac-tion that is contrary to Catholic principles." 11. Mod~stg¢. The Holy See has been inserting the following article in constitutions for several years past: "In certain cases where the care to be given is Of a particularly delicate nature, the Sisters shall dvail themselves, if possible, of the services of .the secular personnel or of the members of the sick per-son's family; for extraordinary cases the Superior should designate Sisters of proven piety and mature age who are williog to perform such works of chhrity. It is the duty of the General Chapter or Council to enact measures in this regard, to which the Sisters must con form." 12. Education as doctors. The following article, proposed to the Holy See in the genera] revision of the constitutions of two. congrega-tions, was approved by the S. C. of Religibus: "The Sisters assigned to the hospitals must be thoroughly pre-pared for the efficient discharge oftheir duties. There should be some Sisters educated as doctors and qualified for th6 various .departments 271 , C. A. HERBST Review for Religious ¯ of the hospital." Canon law does not forbid clerics or religious to study medicine or surgery. Canons 139, § 2, and 592 forl~id clerics and religious of both sexes to devote themselves avowedly, habitually, and for profit to the practice of medicine or surgery. Religious institutes devoted to nursing have by their approbation as such permission to practice the medicine and slight surgery demanded of nurses. Local Ordinaries in missionary countries may permit their missionaries, priests and re-ligious men or women, to practice medicine and surgery provided they are skilled in these arts, demand no payment, and observe rood-esty intreating the opposite sex. In other countries clerics, brothers, and sisters Who wish to i~ractice medicine or surgery must secure an indult from the Holy See. The article quoted above and approved by the Holy See implicitly grants to the two congregations a dispen-sation from th~ canonical prohibition of the practice of medicine and surgery for those qualified as doctors. Care is always to be taken to secure prbper civil authorization for the practice of these arts. [EDITORS' NOTE: Father Gallen's article will be concluded in November.] Discipline C. A. Herbst, S.J. It"I"HE very first step towards wisdom is the desire for discipline, .,| .and how should a man care for discipline without loving ~t, or love it without heeding its laws, or heed its laws with-out winning immortality, or .win immortality without drawing nearer to God" (Wis. 6:18, 19) ? Who could explain more clear!y or_show more beautifully than the Holy Spirit Himself does the place of discipline in the life of one who really wants to love God? "Order is heaven's first law" the proverb says. ¯ This conformity to law comes from discipline. Discipline in the passive sense is con-trol gained by enforcing obedience or order. There is order even in heaven, where God is supreme and the angels are ministering spirits. Where there is disorder chaos soon appears and it is impossible to at-tain the end of any organized society, which is the common good. The modern "autonomous man" is a law unto himself, a tyrant, an outlaw. Were the order established by discipline removed, "the bounded waters would lift higher than the shores," as Shakespeare says~ ?and make,a sop bf, all this.solid globe.';o ~ Then might, is right, "and the rude son should strike his father dead." Unleashed from 272 September, 1953 DISCIPLINE discipline, power obtained by our modern Hitlers and Stalins whets the appetite for more power. "And appetite, an universal wolf, must make perforce an universal prey, and last eat up himself." (Troilus and Cressida, I, iii.) Discipline corrects. This is its first function: a negative one, surely, but basic and important ever since the beginning when man short-circuited his powers through original sin and "to err is human" became a proverb. It is only too clear that in younger religious fre-quent correction is necessary. It helps to make away with the "old man," and who can put on the "new man" before putting off the old? The ways of the world (and they are gaining mightily with each decade) are not God's ways. In men of good will. which we presume aspirants to the religious life to be, correction should lead to prompt reform, or at least to a prompt attempt at reform. In those. who have already spent some time in religion it should lead not only to prompt but to thorougl~ and lasting reform. ReForm. That is a distasteful word to the worldling but opens up a vast field white for the harvest for the ease-loving religious. And we need not look across the table and plan reform for him. As Father said: "If ever you want to start a reform, start on yourself." "Charity begins at home" is true even in this negative aspect. Reform is the correlative and result of correction, and d'iscipline's first work is to correct. Discipline molds. It forms a religious after thi~ likeness of Christ. It shapes him. A character, a soul, is like clay in the hands of the p.otter. As defects are removed by correction the new man takes form under the interior influence of grace and the external influence of dis-cipline. It is exhilarating to see the young religious grow. That an earnest and fervent religious does grow even those who live with him can see. Those, however, who had known him i'n the world and after a few years see him as a religious are the ones who are really amazed at the change. The religious life is a school of perfection. One ex-pects a school to teach and mold and form and change and enlighten. ¯ .Discipline educates a soul, "leads out" its powers, the mind and the will, and induces them to make the most of the wonderful gifts God has given to each one of His children. Discipline strengthens. It gives one moral and spiritual power to act, live, and carry on enduringly and vigorously. This is conspicu-ous in the athletic world. Those who achieve fame in the field of sports do so because they have acquired physical strength, speed, and" accuracy of sense and muscle through long and severe disciplinary 273 C. A. HEI~BST Review for Religious train!ng. This extended and careful practice, their abstinence from food and luxuries and entertainment, is more rigorous than most re-ligious have to submit to. ."And they for a corruptibl( crown, but we for an incorruptible one." ~ Through discipline we store up resources of moral and spiritual strength whict~ we may draw upon in times of trial and temptation. A well-trained sc~ldier will come through many a difficult'and dang(r- ~ ous battle where an undisciplined one will succumb, as we found out in World War II. Through'discipline one acquires a great power of resistance. Discipline causes a soul to become effective and efficient in the direction~ of spiritual achievement, and to be foiceful in its life and work. A strong soul is ardent and zealous, too, and enthusiastic for, the things of God. Neither is a well-disciplined soul easily injured, subdued, or taken in. He is like a fortress, strong and firm. It is vigorous, healthy~ and tough, like an oak. Discipline makes a soul sturdy and unyielding. In the religious life we consider religious discipline in connection v~ith obedience. From an analysis of the word itself, discipline means teaching, training. "Considered in the authority which governs, re-ligious discipline is the sum total' of the rules with their ~anction. By the rules superiors teach the way which is to be followed; by pen- "ances in ~ase of infraction they bring back those who have strayed and repair the scandal given. Considered in inferiors, discipline is also c~lled regular observance, and is the ,faithful observance of the rules, in which observance all the members of the community unite in holy harmony. So important is religious discipline that it must be con-sidered as morally necessary for the conservation of the order as a whole, for that of.the religious life in a community, and for that of the spiritual life in each individual. According to what has been said, it is easy to see that superiors are under grave obligation to maintain religious discipline in the community; and in this regard, "connivance. on their part can easily become a consideiable sin" (Cotel, Catechism of the Vows, 137- 140.), In this connection we might note Canon 593: "Each and every religious, superiors as well as. subjects, must not only keep faithfully and completely'the vows they have taken, but also lead a life in conformity with the rules and constitutions of their own in-stitute and thus strive ~fter the perfection of their state." The rule of each religi0us.institute urges regular observance on ¯ all Each institute must first and foremost, of course, observe the law 274 ' September, 1953 D~SCIPLINE of the Church for religious. In Canons 594-612 we have mentioned especially the careful observance by all of th~ common llfe with re-gard to food, dress, and furniture; the careful performance of gpir-itual exercises; the wearing of the religious habit;

Issue 57.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1998. ; f,o r r eltg ous Christian Heritages and Contempora~ Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER1998. VOLUME57. :NUMBER5 Review for Religious is a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles .in the journal are meant to be informative, practical, bistorical, or inspirational, written from a tbeological _or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPPEMA@SLU.EDU Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1998 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) 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 per,nission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for 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 TracT Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wktberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 5 contents 454 feature Learning Communities: A Spirituality of Work for the Information Age Michael Skelley proposes that a spirituality which focuses on creating learning communities promises to be especially appropriate for work in the info~'mation age. He integrates theological concepts with ideas from organizational development research. 472 484 491 ignatian spirituality The Parables of Jesus and the Ignatian Exercises John J. Begley SJ offers a contemporary understanding of Jesus' parables that inserts their use within the Ignatian Exercises and so facilitates a retreatant's entering into the experience of Jesus. St. Ignatius and My Piano Anita J. Baly reflects on how her experience of the Ignatian Exercises gave her insight about playing the piano and praying as complementary processes that call on remarkably similar skills. consecrated life The Experience of God in Consecrated Life during the 20th Century Joseph A. Tetlow SJ sums up the differences between the pre-Vatican II and Vatican II approaches to consecrated life in terms of the postmodern understanding of experience as constructed, derivative, intentional, and dialogic. Review for Religious 513 Gathering the Fragments: Associate Leaders Reflect on Their Experience Roberta Archibald SSJ, Joanne Bauer SBS, and Jean Ustasiewski OSF share the experience of a group of associate leaders who meet regularly in the Philadelphia area. 522 529 536 prayer Unceasing Prayer: Romancing the Divine Jerry D. Keeney develops the image of romancing the Divine for shaping our relationship with God. Prayer Joseph McCloskey SJ draws upon his experience as a pray-er to describe some necessary elements in a prayer life. Renewal of Prayer Mary Terese Donze ASC explores ways in which the word of God inspires and nourishes our prayer life beyond and above every book on prayer. departments 452 Prisms 541 Canonical Counsel: The Evangelical Counsel of Obedience: Key Current Legislation 547 Book Reviews September-October 1998 That they may be one, as we are one. prisms Rpe John Paul II wrote the encyclical That They May Be One (Ut Unum Sint) in 1995. This document, dealing with our Christian commitment to ecumenism, took its title from the petition spoken by Jesus in his Last Supper discourse as remembered in the Gospel of St. John. Jesus prayed that all his followers would be blessed with the unity, the oneness which his Abba-Father and he enjoyed: "That all may be one as you, Father, are in me, and I in you; I pray that they may be one in us" On 17:21). A most pervasive tendency among us is to make a divi-sion of any grouping into "them" and "us." It happens in families, between those "siblings or relatives who are "out" and those who are "in." It occurs in the way male and female differences have become "them" and "us" in the gender movements of our day. It is evident in the struggles caused by racial, ethnic, or religious distinctions. Witness our contemporary history of the United States, Bosnia, Sudan, and Rwanda. It is found in the church whether between hierarchy/clergy and laity or between liberal and conservative/traditionalist. Even an official church action like excommunication pronounced by local bishops or by Vatican congregations seems to divide off members into a "them" against an "us." Historically it has been true that religious congregations vied with each other within the church, for example, the competition between branches of 14th-century Franciscans and between 17th-century Dominicans and Jesuits--something in consecrated life, Review for Religious thank the Spirit, which seems less a problem in our time. It is writ large in the struggles in our economic world between east and west and between north and south--the "have's and the have-not's." The "them" and "us" (or, at its personal ultimate, "the world" and "me") mentality seems to be in the very air we breathe. What does this year dedicated in a special way to the Spirit call forth in us? Our desire could well be that the Spirit gift us with various prisms through which to view life and our relation-. ships with others in more accepting ways. We might pray that the Spirit become for us the pervading atmosphere in which we live and move and have our being. We need to stir ourselves to take the first few steps away from "political maps" that divide everything into a "them" and "us." We could decide to take action by our daily examination of conscience~ We begin our examen by thanking God for the small ways in which we have allowed the Spirit to unite ourselves with others in our thinking about them and in our acting towards them. We then examine ourselves and note the occasions when we have succeeded in avoiding a "them" and "us" attitude and the occasions when we have not. We, moved by the Spirit, beg God's forgiveness for the obtuseness of our minds and the hardness of our hearts in choosing and reinforcing the deadly worldview of division in our behaviors of this day. Finally we ask ever more fervently for the outpouring of the Spirit upon us to strengthen us in our mission. Empowered by the Spirit, we dedicate ourselves anew to struggle at eliminating the "them" and "us" mentality in our family, in our community, in our parish life, in our work life, and in whatever other areas it seems to pre-vail. The Spirit is the Love-Reality, the very communio, of God's life. The Spirit, we might ~ay, is the Love-touch of God's life in us, and so the Spirit's presence in our lives means our communion of life with our Trinitarian God. The Spirit's activity is God's cre-ating the communio among all of us here and now. Christ's prayer, then, becomes more insistently our prayer and moves us so to work to bring about a world that is at once more human and more divine--that all may be one. David L. Fleming SJ September-October 1998 feature MICHAEL SKELLEY Learning Communities: A Spirituality of Work for the Information Age Many spiritualities of work have been developed by the world's religious traditions. The differences between these spiritualities come not only-from their various theological presuppositions, but also from the various economic and social realities they address. As the nature of work has changed over the course of human history, so too have the religious interpretations of work. We have entered a new era in the history of work, the information age. The new realities of the workplace pose an immense challenge to workers and to the theologians, pastoral counselors, and ministers who want to help them develop a spirituality of work. How can we articulate, fos-ter, and practice a spirituality of work appropriate to the information age? We may not simply assume that a spir-ituality deduced from past theologies will fit our present situation. If the nature of work truly has changed, then a different kind of spirituality will be required.~Nor can we assume that theologians have the competence by them-selves to develop a new spirituality of work. This task requires ~hat we dialogue with a wide range of scholars who study contemporary work organizations. The potential number of partners and possible agen-das for such a dialogue is immense, and we cannot engage Michael Skelley is a full-time faculty member and the director of the undergraduate program at DePaul University's School for New Learning. His research and publications have focused on spirituality, worship, work, and learning. His address is DePaul University; 243 S. Wabash, #700; Chicago, Illinois 60660. Re~iew for Religious them all. Nor will we survey the historical development of the theology of work; that has been done quite well elsewhere.~ We will integrate some insights from this tradition with a few ideas from scholars of information-age work. The growing consensus in the latter field is that the primary challenges and opportunities of the information-age workplace revolve around learning. In the Christian tradition, coincidentally, learning has long been seen as a path to holiness. This paper, therefore, will explore how a spirituality focused on transforming our workplaces into learn-ing communities might be an apt spirituality of work for the infor-mation age. The Spirituality of Work Throughout the Judeo-Christian tradition, work has been seen as both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, we some-times experience work as an opportunity to display our talents, develop our gifts, contribute to the common good, and exercise our creativity. When work is like that, it is joyful, engaging, and fulfilling. Such work experiences return intrinsic rewards that far outweigh their extrinsic compensations: they satisfy some of our deepest needs and highest aspirations. But, on the other hand, we also experience work as overwhelmed by impossible demands, torn by interpersonal conflicts, dehumanized by trivial proce-dures, and oppressed by unjust practices. Such work causes frus-tration, anger, and despair. Whatever compensation we receive, then, cannot repair the damage done to our spirits and bodies. When our work is like this, it poisons us and our family, friends, and communities. Work brings out the best and the worst in us. We need a spirituality of work precisely because work is so ambivalent. As our spiritual predecessors did in their own cir-cumstances, we search for ways of working which might help us taste more of work's blessings and fewer of its curses. We search, in other words, for ways to transform our ambivalent experiences of work into a consistent experience of God. Our positive expe-riences inspire us to believe in the goodness of work. Can we, then, find ways of working which regularly evoke the best in us and our work? Our negative experiences test our character and challenge us to change. Can-wE find ways of working which will liberate us from the destructive aspects of our work and our work-places? This transformation is the task of a spirituality of work. September- October 1998 Skelley ¯ Learning Communities A spirituality of work is a way of working that helps cowork-ers to achieve together our fullest development as human beings. Three points are important about this definition. Thefirst is that a spirituality of work is a way of working, not a way of promot-ing religious ideas and practices. Work can be integrated into spirituality without being interpreted in explicitly religious ways. We need to challenge that ancient legacy of dualist thinking which still conditions most people to assume that secular activities can-not, by definition, be sacred. That is why P~re Marie-Dominique Chenu, a pioneer, in the modern effort to develop theologies of work, said that the question of the relationship between nature and grace is fundamental to the spirituality of work.2 When people see grace and nature as separate and opposed realities, they think that the task of a spirituality of work is to make work explicitly religious. Spirituality then becomes the intrusion of something foreign into the work. Unfortunately, most of what is touted today as spirituality of work suffers from vari-ous degrees of this dualistic thinking. Such spiritualities impose religious ideas, language, and practices on work. The vigorous resistance that many working people have to these intrusions is justified, not simply because these spiritualities discourage humane work, but also because they encourage questionable theology. But when grace and nature are seen as inseparable, the task of a spirituality of work is to enhance something that is already pres-ent in the work. Spirituality then becomes a matter of making explicit what is already implicit. If, as Karl Rahner said;, our world is permeated with the divine self-communication, we can experi-ence God and achieve our fullest human potential even in the most ordinary kinds of work.3 Work becomes spiritual, not by becoming religious, but by becoming more truly work, by being true to the spiritual dimensions already part of its character. This does not diminish the important and proper place of religion; rather, it points to religion's roots in daily life. Such a spiritual-ity of work is concerned with fostering human development in ways which are appropriate to the workplace. It supports the potential we already know work possesses to engage our gifts and contribute to the common good. ~ Second, the definition above implies that a way of working is a form 6f spirituality to the extent that it supports our complete human development. Holiness is a matter of wholeness, and so whatever fosters our holistic human development leads us toward Review for Religious spiritual maturity as well.4 Or, as Irenaeus taught, God is glorified when human beings are fully alive. The major religious and spir-itual traditions of the world have proven successful at furthering the kind of human development we seek. They provide us with a wealth of complementary images of the breadth and depth of our potential as human beings. Obviously, each of these traditions has been guilty at times of fostering narrow-minded notions of virtue that highlight only some aspects of what we are capable of becoming. But, when they are seen together, it is clear that they share some fundamental values, attitudes, and standards that lead people toward fulfilling their human poten-tial and help them understand this effort,s The task of a spirituality of work is to root our ways of working in these basic understandings of holistic human development. This second point does not con-tradict the first one, namely, that the spirituality of work is a way of work-ing and not a way of promoting religious ideas. To say that a spir-ituality of work needs to be rooted in the values of the world's religious traditions is simply to propose that we need to be reflec-tive about the assumptions we bring to our work. The ways we work necessarily presuppose certain ideas, frequently muddled and usually unarticulated, about the values that guide our lives. The question is not whether we want to have a spirituality of work or not; everyone already has some sort of spirituality of work, although we are rarely conscious of this fact. Nor is the point to advocate the values of one particular religious tradition, no matter how emi-nent they may be. To do so would be to presume a consensus in the workplace about religion that is unlikely to exist. The goal is to be reflective about our fundamental values and to ensure that they support not only efficient and effective work, but fully humane work as well. We can do so by rooting our work in the most uni-versal possible expressions of basic human values. The third point we need to notice about the definition above is that a spirituality of work is about achieving our full human development together, in common, not just individually. It is a Work becomes spiritual, not by becoming religious, but by becoming more truly work, by being true to the spiritual dimensions already part of its character. Septentber-October 1998 Skelley ¯ Learning Communities way of working together with our coworkers for the transforma-tion of our work and our workplaces so that all of us can develop our full human potential. In other words, we need to challenge another kind of dualism, that between our private, individual selves and our public, communal selves. Popular spiritualities today typically identify the spiritual with an individual's interior experience. People seldom connect work with spirituality, for it is associated with the public and exterior dimensions of our lives.6 Popular attempts .to develop a spirituality of work typically assume that their task is to enhance our individual, interior development. They rarely reflect on how the spirituality of work could and should be something that all workers share. This dualistic think-ing does a disservice both to work and to spirituality. It ultimately reinforces the kind of depersonalized, mechanistic approach to work associated with Frederick Taylor, the inadequacies of which are now widely recognized.7 And it misses the critical insight of liberation and feminist theologies that transformation of the social, political, and communal dimensions of our lives is an essential part of spiritual development. Work in the Information Age: Organizational Learning After this review of the task faced by a spirituality Of work, we now need to explore how the information age has changed the nature of the work we do. This will prepare us to think about how a spirituality of work needs to be different today. At the beginning of this century, most workers in the United States were either farmers or domestic servants. By 1950 the com-position of the workforce had completely changed, and most workers were engaged in some form of industrial labor.8 The the-ologies and spiritualities of work that have appeared in the last fifty years focus on the issues of that industrial age, not recognizing how work has changed.9 At the end of the 20th century, it is clear that we have entered an entirely new age in the history of work. We live in a postindustrial society of "knowledge work," the infor-mation age. A significant but steadily shrinking number of work-ers are still employed in the industrial sector, and many others work in service jobs, but the largest portion of the workforce now consists of knowledge workers. By the year 2000, only ten percent of the workforce in the United States and other postindustrial countries will be directly involved in making things.19 Review for Religious While our parents and grandparents usually worked with their hands, moving and making things, most of us work with our heads. The work we do involves knowing, thinking, and learning. Our jobs do not simply require more educational preparation than the work of previous generations did. They require us to do some-thing fundamentally different: to create, interpret, organize, apply, transfer, and manage knowledge. Knowledge work radically changes the nature of a market economy and redefines the rela-tionship between workers and the means of production. This is a new kind of economy and a new kind of work.1~ As Peter Drucker has said, "The social center of gravity has shifted to the knowledge worker. M1 developed countries are becoming postbusiness, knowledge societies. Access to good jobs and career opportunities in developed countries increasingly requires a university diploma. Looked at one way, this is the !ogical result of a long evolution in which we moved from working by the sweat of our brow and by muscle to industrial work and finally to knowledge work. But the development also represents a sharp break with the past."12 Knowledge work requires new abilities to continually learn from and think with one's coworkers. In the past, tasks that required thinking could typically be carried out by individuals using general knowledge. Much of today's knowledge work, in contrast, is too complex for any generalist to accomplish alone. It requires the coordinated efforts of a variety of specialists. People must be able to share their expertise with one another for the work to get done. The primary agent of knowledge work, there-fore, is an organization, not an individual. This fact need not diminish the importance or dignity of the individual worker. It is a consequence of the highly specialized expertise that individ-ual knowledge workers have. Together they are able to create some-thing that none of them could create alone: Knowledge work is a multifaceted task that requires the collaboration of a variety of experts and specialists. It must be done by an organization con-centrated on a particular task. Effective organization, then, is a necessary condition for knowledge work.13 Consequently, as knowledge workers we must work not just for an organization, but at it. That is to say, we must work con-tinually at growing with our colleagues into a community that can do real knowledge work. The organization is not just where we work; it is an essential outcome of our work itself. The task of cre-ating an effective organization where knowledge work is possible Septe~tber- October 1998 Skelley ¯ Learning Communities is an inescapable part of each knowledge worker's creative efforts. The nature of knowledge work requires us to deal continually with organizational change, development, and transformation. The academic or professional discipline which concentrates on organizational change is commonly called organization develop-ment. L4.Organization development systematically applies behav-ioral science knowledge to the planned development of organizational strategies, structures, and processes in order to improve an organization's effectiveness.~s Organization develop-ment is practiced in many different ways. Most recent approaches, however, emphasize increasing the organization's capacity to learn.~6 For example, Peter Senge, director of the Center for Organizational Learning at MIT's Sloan School of Management, focuses on creating learning organizations, "organizations where people continually expand their capacity to create the results they truly desire, where new and expansive patterns of thinking are nurtured, where collective aspiration is set free, and where peo-ple are continually learning how to learn together."~7 Organizational change experts focus their efforts on organi-zational learning for many reasons. They hope that learning will simultaneously foster the development of the people in the orga-nization and provide superior economic performance. They see it as an extension of the movement to improve the quality of prod-ucts and services. They see it as a way of managing the increas-ingly rapid pace of social and technological change.~8 But, most basically, they recognize that there cannot be any consistent change for the better in work organizations unless these organi-zations are able to learn. All planned change presumes learning, and so leading change is a matter of facilitating learning. Argyris and Sch6n speak of this "learning imperative": "Now in the mid-1990s, it is conventional wisdom that business firms, governments, nongovernmental organizations, schools, health-care systems, regions, even whole nations and supranational insti-tutions need to adapt to changing environments, draw lessons from past successes and failures, detect and correct the errors of the past, anticipate and respond to impending threats, conduct experiments, engage in continuing innovation, build and realize images of a desirable future. There is a virtual consensus that we are all subject to a 'learning imperative,' and in the academic as well as the practical world, organizational learning has become an idea in good currency.'''9 Review for Religious But it is not proving easy to transform our work organiza-tions into learning communities. Organization-development spe-cialists agree that our work organizations have handicaps that prevent them from learning effectively. Senge thinks that funda-mental difficulties most organizations have in becoming learning communities can be traced in part to traditional Christian spiri-tualityd° He says that our work organizations have been rendered dysfunctional by three problems: reactiveness, fragmentation, and competition. These problems reflect deeper cultural problems that are due in large part to a tradition of dualistic thinking in Western society. From his reading of Thomas Merton, Joseph Campbell, Raine Eisler, and Elaine Pagels, Senge thinks that Christianity insti-tutionalized this dualistic thinking. Obviously, Senge's critique of Christianity would need to be more carefully nuanced and solidly supported, but in its broad outlines it is consistent with the critiques made by lib-eration, feminist, and ecological theologians.21 The problem is not spirituality per se,. but the consequences of dualistic, hierarchical, and patriarchal spiritual-ities. Dorothee Soelle, for example, says: "The tendency to isolate Christian faith from the social order has meant, among other things, that mainstream theology has failed to address work in the context of creation and redemption. It has ignored the worlds of pain created by the structural organization of our work. It has unconsciously or often even cynically obscured our creation as workers in the image of 'the great artist.' Christianity has a long record of complicity in bad, meaningless, or harmful work. This is the result not just of insufficient ethical reflection, but also of the inability to perceive Christ's work in returning the world to its people. Resurrection from sin's power happens in good work. We still wait for good work. Through good work we are revealed, in our creative empowerment, as children of God.''22 Senge is one of many organizational-change experts who see a pressing need for a new, holistic spirituality of information-age work.23 Senge's comments about spirituality and organizational change are particularly striking both because of the wide accep-tance his approach to organizational change has gained and because of the scholarly foundation that supports his work. The "Christianity has a long record of complicity in bad, meaningless, or harmful work." September-October 1998 Skelley ¯ Learning Communities fact that Senge and his colleagues stress spirituality so strongly, albeit clumsily, indicates that this area is being given more and more serious consideration by professionals in the field of orga-nization development. It is clear, therefore, that the only certainty amidst the turmoil in our workplaces today is that we must learn how to learn. A host of inexorable forces such as the explosion of information, the shrinking of the global marketplace, the reordering of social priorities, and the emergence of new technologies is reshaping every sector of the working world. Both the environment and our work requirements are changing, and changing more and more rapidly. In times of such pervasive change, neither individual workers nor work organizations are likely to be effective unless they can learn easily, quickly, and well. An important part of all knowledge work today is the transformation of our work organi-zations into learning communities. The Spirituality of Learning Learning is not only a critical issue for the information age; it is also a fruitful theme for spirituality. Learning has often been seen by the spiritual and religious traditions of the world as a path to holiness. Jean Leclercq's classic work on medieval monas-ticism, The Love of Learning and the Desire for God, beautifully cap-tures one manifestation of this intimate relationship between learning and spirituality.24 We do not have space here to sample all the rich and varied ways theologians have interpreted the role of learning in spirituality. We will focus instead on just one the-ologian who has had a widespread effect on contemporary Christian theology, Karl Rahner. Epistemological concerns are at the foundation of Rahner's understanding of Christianity, and in that sense his theology is a theology of learning. His insights can readily be translated into a spirituality of learning which deep-ens the way we see the purpose, process, and products of learning. First, Rahner changes the way we see the process of learning by showing us that learning always involves self-transcendence.2s For Rahner, learning is an activity which is necessarily rooted in our nonconceptual awareness of God. We can know finite things only because we can transcend them and experience God. Learning is possible for us because we are embodied spirits (Geist-irn- Welt) capable of self-transcendence. We are able to learn about Reviezv for Religious our material, temporal world precisely because we can reach beyond it and open ourselves to the infinite horizon of absolute mystery. This preapprehension (Vorgriff) of God is the condition for the possibility of any and every act of learning. Every time we learn anything, we experience our transcendental openness to God. When we explore the spirituality of learning, we are not introducing a transcendent element to the learning process, but rather affirming one that is already there. This means that we can never entirely understand, much less hope to control, the process of learning. We generally think of learning as a skill that we can direct and develop, and it is. Most of us expend energy throughout our lifetimes not only learning but learning how to learn. As teachers, parents, colleagues, or friends, we are also regularly called upon to direct the learning of others. We even assume that some people are such proficient learners that they will inevitably be master teachers. But the fact that our ability to learn depends upon our transcendental open-ness to the horizon of absolute mystery means that the learning process transcends our control. All learning requires that we sur-render ourselves to our capacity for self-transcendence. And, if we want to help others learn, we have to support their self-tran-scendence. We will generate very little new learning if we restrict or manipulate the learning process. Ultimately, learning is not a skill to be mastered but a mystery to be loved. Practicing a spir-ituality of learning, then, means creating space for the experience of self-transcendence to happen. Second, Rahner's theology of freedom changes the way we see the products of learning by showing that learning always involves our free self-creation.26 Learning is an expression of the capacity we have as embodied spirits to act freely. The prod-ucts of our free acts are not simply choices between particular goods. Freedom is also a process through which we create our-selves. Whenever we exercise our freedom, we not only make a choice about a particular good; we also make a choice about our-selves. The decisions we make determine who we are as persons in relationship to God and the world. Some of our free acts so totally engage us that they constitute fiandamental choices about who we are. Other acts engage us less completely and serve to confirm or,deny the fundamental selves we have chosen to become. But every exercise of our freedom in some way is an act of self-creation. Septentber-October 1998 Skelley ¯ Learning Communities Since we exercise our freedom whenever we learn, every act of learning is an act of self-creation. We usually assume that the products of learning are new ways of thinking and acting. But, for Rahner, our own self-creation is also a product of every act of learning. Whenever we learn, we not only learn about something particular; we also help determine who we will become as per-sons. Learning is not just a process through which we adopt new behaviors or ideas; it is a process of creating ourselves. Each choice we make about what, why, or how we will learn contributes in some way to our self-realization. The criteria by which we assess the products .of our learning, therefore, need to include the question of whether we are becoming more fully human, Measured by this criterion, learning which does not support holis-tic human development is fundamentally flawed. People who resist learning risk dehumanizing themselves just as much as those who resist loving. This is not to say that our value as persons is depen-dent upon how bright we are. Learning can no more be reduced to intelligence than love can be reduced to emotion. But learning and loving are critical to our self-realization because both are ways we fulfill our human potential for relationship with the world and the mystery of God. Practicing a spirituality of learning, therefore, means honoring this process of self-creati0n. Third, Rahner's theology of grace changes the way we see the purpose of learning.27 For Rahner, our transcendental orientation to the holy mystery has been universally graced by God's self-communication. Grace is not a gift from God but the gift of God, In our "natural" experience of transcendence, the absolute.mystery of God is present to us as the horizon which we can only approach asymptotically. We believe, however, that God has not remained the distant horizon of human transcendence, but has graciously drawn near to us as free and forgiving love. We never experience our transcendence, therefore, as purely natural and ungraced. The transcendence we actually experience has been radically trans-formed by God's self-gift, which is always present at least as an invitation made to our freedom. Grace is the fulfillment of our deepest human potential as embodied spirits to be filled with the infinite God. Grace makes possible for us the immediate experi-ence of God, which is always mediated by our historicity and mate-riality. But God becomes closer, not less of a mystery, in the experience of grace. Grace is the self-communication of God as the absolute mystery who remains absolute mystery. Review for Religious This theology of grace implies, then, that the ultimate purpose of learning is not to know more, but to be known more.28 When we learn, we do not simply gather new information or master additional skills; rather, we open ourselves to the self-communi-cation of God. The deepest purpose of learning is that it leads us to the point where we surrender to God's knowing of us. Learning is a privileged opportunity to enter more deeply into the abyss of the absolute mystery of God. Learning is at its best not simply when it is rooted in good principles of pedagogy or andragogy, but when it is a form of mystagogy. The process of learning, then, develops our potential to be mystics. Rahner believed that everyone is called to be a mystic.29 Mysticism is not primarily about paranormal experiences, but about attending to hidden experiences of the mystery of God in daily life. It is difficult to be a mystic, not because God is so distant, but because. God is so present. The challenge isto find ways to notice the gracious presence of God in the midst of everything in our lives, This is easier to do in some expe-riences than others. Oddly enough, our experiences of the goodness and beauty of life are not necessarily the best places to look for God. Rahner believed that we perceive the presence of God most clearly in those events in which we struggle with our limitations. Our experiences of lim-itation bring us right to the threshold of the presence of God. To the extent that we can attend to how we transcend the limita-tions we face, we open ourselves to the mystery of God. The pro-cess of learning offers abundant opportunities to struggle with limitations and experience God. Whenever we really attempt to learn, we strain to see beyond the limits of what we currently know. If we have the courage to face the limits of what we know, therefore, we invite God to enter more deeply into our lives. Rahner shows us that the process, products, and purpose of learning have spiritual depths that we normally overlook. Learning is not a neutral process of inquiry that only takes on a spiritual character when we choose to focus it on religious phenomena. Learning is intrinsically spiritual and is one of the most impor-tant ways we have to experience God. It is not surprising that tell- Learning can no more be reduced to intelligence than love can be reduced to emotion. September-October 1998 Skelley ¯ Learning Communities gious traditions throughout the world have revered learning as a path to holiness. Whatever enhances our capacity to learn fosters our spiritual, development, whether we recognize it as such or not. Disciplines for Creating Learning Communities As the 20th century draws to a close, we are beginning to glimpse how our lives will be different in the information age. But, because this new age of work is only now coming into focus, it is impossible to see yet what all of its spiritual opportunities and challenges will be. Nonetheless, we can be certain that learn-ing will become increasingly important to the work we do. The growing significance of learning makes a new way of integrating spirituality and work possible. The most effective spirituality of work for the information age will be one based on helping us transform our workplaces into learning communities. We defined the spirituality.of work above as a way of work-ing which fosters the transformation of our work and our work-places so that together with our coworkers we may achieve our fullest development as human beings. This means that a spiritu-ality of work should be a way of working, not a way of practicing religi6us activities or enjoying esoteric experiences. It should sup-port our complete human development. And it should foster the transformation of our work communities, not just our growth as individuals. A spirituality of work which is based on creating :learn-ing communities meets these three criteria. First, since it focuses on learning, such a spirituality advocates a way of working which is not explicitly religious, and which is appropriate, even vital, to the information-age workplace. Second, since the learning process engages the fundamental basis of our human identity, our capac-ity for self-transcendence, the process of learning is a particu-larly powerful way of supporting holistic human development. Third, such a spirituality of work draws us beyond caring for our individual growth into building learning communities with one another. But, if it is to help us engage in the difficult process of con-version and growth,, this spirituality of work needs to be incarnated in particular disciplines. The major spiritualities of the West have generally encouraged disciplines such as meditation, prayer, fast-ing, reading, and service as concrete means of achieving spiritual growth. There is no qu~sti6n that such disciplines will continue Review for Religious to have an important role in a fully developed spiritual life. But, since the spirituality of work attempts to engage us in a different and more specific kind of transformation than that of traditional spiritualities, it will need to encourage some additional, new dis-ciplines. The disciplines for a spirituality of work in the infor-mation age will be the disciplines for developing organizational learning. Organizational-learning researchers have over the past fifty years advanced our understanding of what those disciplines are. Peter Senge, for example, has organized them into five sets: per-sonal mastery, shared vision, mental models, team learning, and systems thinking. Each of these disci-plines has to do with helping us develop the skills to learn effectively as individ-uals and groups. There are three distinct levels to these disciplines: practices, principles, and essences. The practices are the specific activities which con-cretely express the discipline. They are the primary focus for those beginning to follow the discipline. The underlying principles are the theoretical bases for the practice of the disciplines. Progressing in the disciplines requires following the practices and understand-ing the principles. The essences are the state of being which comes to be experienced by individuals or groups that have mastered the discipline. At this level Senge's learning disciplines are united by a common sensibility: that we are learners in an intrinsically interdependent world.3° Personal mastery is the discipline of continually clarifying and deepening our personal vision, of focusing our energies, of developing patience, and of seeing reality objectively. It involves learning to expand our personal capacity to create the results we most desire and to create an organizational environment that encourages all its members to develop themselves toward the goals and purposes they choose. The practices of this discipline include various techniques for clarifying our personal vision and for holding a creative tension between the results we desire and our grasp of current reality. Senge sees the discipline of personal mastery as the spiritual foundation for a learning organization. The disciplines for a spirituality of work in the information age will be the disciplines for developing organizational learning. September-October 1998 Skelley ¯ Learning Communities The discipline of shared vision is the collective version of the discipline of personal mastery. The discipline of shared vision builds a sense of commitment in the groups we work with by developing shared .images of the future we seek to create and the principles and guiding practices by which we hope to get there. The practices of this discipline involve techniques for helping groups both acknowledge their current realities and develop a shared picture of their future that fosters sincere commitment. This discipline assumes that, when there is genuine shared vision, people excel and learn because they want to, not because they are told to. Like the discipline of personal mastery, the discipline of men-tal models is an individually oriented dis.cipline. Senge sees men~ tal models as the deeply ingrained assumptions and generalizations that influence how we understand the world and take action. The discipline of mental models helps us reflect upon, clarify, and improve these internal pictures of the world and see how they shape our actions and decisions. The practice of this discipline also helps us learn how to carry on "learningful" conversations that get us to expose our own thinking effectively and make that thinking open to the influence of others. The discipline of team learning is the collective counterpart of the discipline of mental models. This discipline transforms conversational and collective thinking skills so that a team of coworkers increases its collective intelligence and its ability to take coordinated action. The heart of this discipline is the theory and practice of dialogue. Dialogue challenges team members to suspend assumptions and enter into genuine thinking together. Team learning also involves recognizing the patterns of interac-tion in teams that undermine learning. The most critical learning discipline for Senge is the disci-pline of systems thinking. He sees it as the discipline that inte-grates the other disciplines into a coherent body of theory and practice. Systems thinking is a way of thinking about and a lan-guage for describing ~he forces and interrelationships that shape the behavior of systems. It makes the full patterns of a system clearer and helps us see how to change them effectively. Systems thinking helps us shift from seeing problems as caused by some-one or something external to seeing how our own actions create the problems we experience. Once we discover how we create our reality, we can then change it. Review for Religious When they are used together, the methods of organizational learning represented by these five disciplines have been proven to have great potential for transforming our workplaces into learn-ing communities. They provide us with the concrete theories and strategies we need so that together with our coworkers we can not only learn, but learn how to learn. By virtue of the fact that they expand our capacity to learn, these disciplines also foster our spiritual development. The disciplines of organizational learn-ing help us to learn in new ways and so broaden our opportuni-ties to experience the spiritual depths of learning. The most effective spirituality of work for the information age will focus on transforming our work organizations into learn-ing communities. It will do so by integrating disciplines of orga-nizational learning with insights from the spiritual traditions. This paper has contributed to this integration. New approaches to organizational learning such as the ones we have mentioned here provide the spirituality of work with the concrete disciplines it needs to develop learning communities. At the same time, the insights which our spiritual and religious traditions can provide deepen our understanding of what is at stake in the transforma-tion of work. We will be able to create meaning~l spiritualities of work in this new era only if we continue to engage in this process of integration. Notes ~ William E. May, "Work, Theology of," in The New Dictionary of Catholic Social Thought, ed. Judith A. Duryer (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1994), pp. 991-1002; Karen Ready, "Work," in The Encyclopedia of Religion, ed. Mircea Eliade (New York: Macmillan Publishing Co, 1987), vol. 15, pp. 441-444; Edward C. Sellner, "Work," in The New Dictionary of Catholic Spirituality, ed. Michael Downey (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1993), pp. 1044-1051; Francis Schiissler Fiorenza, "Religious Beliefs and Pr'axis: Reflections on Catholic Theological Views of Work," in Work and Religion, ed. Gregory Baum (New York: Seabury Press, 1980), pp. 92-102. 2 Marie-Dominique Chenu, "Work," in Sacramentum Mundi: An Encyclopedia of Theology, ed. Karl Rahner (New York: Herder and Herder, 1970), vol. 6. 3 Karl Rahner, "Concerning the Relationship between Nature and Grace," in Theological Investigations (Baltimore: Helicon, 1961), vol. 1, pp. 297-317; "Nature and Grace," in Theological Investigations (New York: Crossroad, 1982), vol. 4, pp. 165-188; Foundations of Christian Faith: An Introduction to the Idea of Chr#tianity (New York: Crossroad, 1978). 4Walter Principe, "Toward Defining Spirituality," Studies in Religion Septentber-October 1998 Skelley ¯ Learning Communities 12 (1983): 127-141; Sandra Schneiders, "Spirituality in the Academy," Theological Studies 50 (1989): 676-697. s Hans Kiing and Karl-Josef Kuschel, A Global Ethic: The Declaration of tbe Parliament of the World's Religions (New York: Continuum, 1993). 6 Joseph Holland. Creative Communion: Toward a Spirituality of Work (New York: Paulist Press, 1989), pp. 24-26. 7 Frederick W. Taylor, The Principles of Scientific Management (New York: Harper and Bros., 1911); Marvin R. Weisbord, Productive Workplaces: Organizing and Managing for Dignity~ Meaning, and Community (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1987), pp. 50-69, 8 Peter Drucker Post-Capitalist Society (New York: HarperBusiness, 1993), p. 5. 9 "John Paul II, On Human Work (Laborem Exercens) (Washington, D.C.: United States Catholic Conference, 1981); Dorothee Soelle with Shirley A. Cloyes, 7~ Work and to Love: A Theology of Creation (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984); Joe Holland, Creative Communion; Lee Hardy, The Fabric of This World: Inquiries into .Calling, Career Choice, and the Design of Human Work (Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 1990); Miroslav Volf, Work in the Spirit: Toward a Theology of Work (New York: Oxford University, 1991); John C. Haughey, Converting 9 to Y: A Spirituality of Daily Work (New York, Crossroad, 1989). l0 Drucker, Post-Capitalist Society, p. 5; Charles Handy, The Age of Unreason (Boston: Harvard Business School, 1989), pp. 34-35, 50-51. *~ Drucker, "The Age of Social Transformation," Atlantic Monthly (November 1994): 53-80. ~2 Drucker, The New Realities (New York: Harper, 1989), p. 173. ,3 Drucker, Post-Capitalist Society, p. 49. 14 A large and important segment of experts in this field prefers to call.the discipline "organizational transformation." See John D. Adams, ed., Transforming Work: A Collection of Organizational Transformation Readings (Alexandria: Miles River Press, 1984). ,s Thomas G. Cummings and Christopher G. Worley, Organization Development and Change (Minneapolis: West Publishing, 1993), p. 2. ~6 Chris Argyris and Donald A. Sch6n, Organizational Learning II: Theory, Method, and Practice (Reading: Addison-Wesley Publishing, 1996), ~7 Peter Senge, The Fifth Discipline: The Art and Practice of Learning Organizations (New York: Doubleday, 1990), p. 3. 18 Peter Senge et al., eds., The Fij~h Discipline Fieldbook: Strategies and Tools for Building a Learning Organization (New York: Doubleday, 1994), pp. 9-12. 19Argyris and Sch6n, Organizational II, p. xvii. 20 Senge, "Communities of Commitment: The Heart of Learning Organizations," in The Learning Organization in Action: A Special Report from Organizational Dynamics (New 'York: American Management Association, 1994), pp. 9-15. Review for Religious 21 Holland, Creative Communion, pp. 18-42, and Matthew Fox, The Reinvention of Work: A New Vision of Livelihood for Our Time (HarperSanFrancisco, 1994). 22.Soelle, 7~ Work and to Love, p. 112. 23 Adams, Transforming Work; Peter Hawkins, "The Spiritual Dimension of the Learning Organization," Management Education and Development 22 (1991): 172-187; Peter Block, Stewardship: Choosing Service over Self-Interest (San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler, 1993); Alan Briskin, The Stirring of Soul in the Workplace (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1996); Harrison Owen, Spirit: Transformation and Development in Organizations (Potomac: Abbot, 1987); and Tony Smith, Parzival's Briefcase: Six Practices and a New Philosophy for Healthy Organizational Change (San Francisco: Chronicle Books, 1993). 24 Jean Leclercq, The Love of Learning and the Desire for God: A Study of Monastic Culture (New York: Fordham University Press, 1961). 2s Karl Rahner, Spirit in the World (Montreal: Palm Publishers, 1968), pp. 57-383; Hearer of the Word(New York: Continuum, 1994), pp. 1-54; and, Foundations of Christian Faith, pp. 14-23, 26-35. 26 Karl Rahner, "Theology of Freedom," Theological Investigations (New York: Crossroad, 1982), vol. 6, pp. 178-196; Foundations of Christian Faith, pp., 35-39; "The Dignity and Freedom of Man," Theological Investigations (Baltimore: Helicon, 1963), vol. 2, pp. 246-263. 27 Karl Rahner, "Concerning the Relationship between Nature and Grace," pp. 297-317; "Some Implications of the Scholastic Concept of Uncreated Grace," Theological Investigations (Baltimore: Helicon, 1961), vol. 1, pp. 319-346; "Nature and Grace," Theological Investigations (New York: Crossroad, 1982), vol. 4, pp. 165-188; Foundations of Christian Faith,. pp. 116-133. 28 Parker J. Palmer, 7b Know as We are Known: Education as a Spiritual Journey (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1993). 29 Karl Rahner, "The Experience of God Today," Theological Investigations (New York: Crossroad, 1982), vol. 11, pp. 149-165; "Experience of the Holy Spirit," Theological Investigations (New York: Crossroad, 1983), vol. 18, pp. 189-210; "Christian Living Formerly and Today," Theological Investigations (New York: Seabury, 1977), vol. 7, pp. 3- 24. 30 This and other ideas below are developed in Senge, The Fifth Discipline, and in Senge et al., The Fifth Discipline Fieldbook. Septe~nber-October 1998 gnatian spirituality JOHN J. BEGLEY The Parables of Jesus and the Ignatian Exercises This article~ proposes a contemporary understanding of Jesus' parables, and it shouts their importance for the dynamic of the Spiritual Exercises. Those familiar with St. Ignatius's book are aware that he does not propose the parables for prayer during the Exercises. Several reasons, however, prompt the exploration of this relationship. First, contemporary scripture studies stress the importance of the parables in the Jesus' teaching, and including them within the Exercises can enrich that experience. Second, we take the New Testament seriously as the starting point of our prayer, and we want that prayer grounded in the best understanding of the New Testament that solid con-temporary scholarship can provide; Third, the parables make up a full third of Jesus' teaching, and so any attempt to "put on the mind that was in Christ Jesus" (Ph 2:5) cannot afford to overlook them. Finally, for retreatants who are troubled by doubt concerning what Jesus really said, the parables deserve our close attention. As a pio-neer of modern parable study has said, "We are standing on a particularly firm historical foundation., part of the bedrock of tradition. We are standing right before Jesus when reading his parables" (Jeremias, p. 5). Later we will discuss the dynamic of the Exercises in some detail. For the moment it will be useful to recall John J. Begley SJ teaches in the Department of Theology and Religious Studies; University of Scranton; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18510. Revie~ for Religious both the purpose of the Exercises and the purpose of the parables. Their similar purposes will readily appear. The purpose of the Exercises is "the conquest of self and the regulation of one's life in such a way that no decision is made under the influence of any inordinate attachment" (§21). Behind the somewhat archaic phras-ing is the understanding that the Exercises have as their purpose to lead "a person to true spiritual freedom, so that we make no choice or decision because we have been influenced by some dis-ordered ,attachment" (Fleming, Spiritual Exercises, §21). Similarly, the. parables' "purpose is to effect a change in the hearer, to lead to decision or action" (Boucher, p. 16-17). We begin with the parables. As Raymond Brown has remarked, "The study of the parables has generated an immense literature and sharp debates" (p. 132). We' will try to make the most of recent scholarship and to avoid controverted issues. Given the literature and the debates, it is difficult to capture the mean-ingof the parables in a single definition. J.R. Donahue in his Gospelin Parable (p. 5) cites approvingly C.H. Dodd's inductively derived definition; it will serve our purpose well. "At its simplest the parable is a metaphor or simile drawn from nature or common life, arresting the hearer by its vividness or strangeness, and leav-ing the ,mind in sufficient doubt about its precise application to tease it into active thought." As metaphor, the familiar and better known--a mustard seed, for example--is compared to the less familiar kingdom of God. The kingdom is compared to and illuminated by something bet-ter known and more readily imagined. In the context of a retreat, the astonishing growth of a tiny mustard seed into a large bush illumines the growth of the retreatant's relationship with God, which is God's work in the retreatant. As a metaphor, it moves people, to greater participation in the more obscure retreat mate-rial being described or explained. Metaphor talks of the familiar so that one can participate in the less familiar (Crossan, p. 16 ). We may note that there are parables in the Hebrew Bible: the trees (Jg 9:7-15), for example, and the ewe lamb (2 K 12:1-4). The rabbis used parables for the normal pedagogical purposes of illustrating and illuminating their teaching. The listeners of Jesus were familiar with the genre. Jesus subordinated the familiar uses of the parable to his primary purpose of proclaiming the king-dom, of sounding the call and challenge to embrace the conditions of living in the kingdom. The parables of Jesus transcend any September-October 1998 Begley ¯ The Parables of Jesus and the Ignatian Exercises previous use, for he thereby expresses what cannot be expressed by any other means than symbol and metaphor: the kingdom of God. The parables, like other, symbolic expressions, are polyva-lent. No single meaning exhausts their content. Parables cannot be reduced to a proposition. Modern parable study begins with several commonly accepted suppositions. First, the early church supplied the context of the parables as they appear in the narratives of Jesus' ministry, and we must bracket off that context if we wish to hear the parable as Jesus spoke it. For example, the command "Go and do likewise" (Lk 10:37) presently concludes the parable of the Good Samaritan. The common judgment, however, is that it does not belong to the parable as Jesus taught it, and so we exclude it from consid-eration. As we will see, the bracketing changes the parable's mean-ing dramatically. Second, the tradition has at times changed a parable of Jesus into an allegory. For example, in Mark's Gospel the parable of the sower appears both as Jesus taught it (4:3-9) and as the early church preserved it as an allegory (4:13-20). This is not to say that allegory is improper. However, to recover the para-bles as Jesus taught them, we avoid the allegorical interpretation. Other parables, such as that of the Good Samaritan (Lk 10:29-37), have in their transmission become example stories. As the message about Jesus was proclaimed in a non-Jewish culture, its second generation non-Jewish listeners were unfamiliar with the mean-ing of Samaritan, priest, and Levite. The parable became an exam-ple story, lessening the challenge of the original parable. We are not suggesting a single interpretation to the exclu-sion of all others, whether that interpretation is traditional or contemporary. The parable of the prodigal, for example, is fre-quently understood as a parable of God's mercy. As the First Week progresses, a retreatant may suggest to her director, as the result of her own understanding and experience, that she would like to spend some time during the First Week praying over The Prodigal as a parable of God's merciful love. The director must respect the retreatant's freedom and the gift of her prayer. In days to come in the retreat, as discretion suggests, the director can pro-pose the parable once again with a different interpretation drawn from modern parable study. Both interpretations are valid. Retreatants find two contributions of J. Dominic Crossan particularly helpful. First is the manner in which he has located the parables in Jesus' own experience. To a previous observation Review for Religious that parables move people to greater participation in the matter a parable illustrates, it is important to add that "Jesus' parables are radically constitutive of his own distinctive historicity, and all else is located in them" (Crossan, p. 33). They proclaim and they establish the historicity of Jesus' response to the kingdom. There is an intrinsic bond between Jesus' experience and his expression of that experience in parables. Parables are cause and not effect of what Jesus said and did (Crossan, p. 32). Retreatants find it very attractive to pray over the parables and thereby to enter into the experience of Jesus. Second, Crossan's classification of the various parables as expressions of the kingdom's temporality (as advent, as reversal, and as action) is most help-ful. As we'will see, the parables of reversal in particular have an important role to play in the Exercises. One final observation is important. For some few commentators, Crossan among them, the urgency of the para-bles is related to the ever present now of the kingdom. While it would be interesting to consider the range of scholarly opinions on the relation of the kingdom to the end time, it seems better to avoid the confusion which could result. One scholar, Donald Senior, has preserved the urgency of the parables without enter-ing into the controverted question of eschatology. He writes, "The kingdom may be future but the choice is now" (Senior, p. 93). The temporality of the kingdom in terms of advent, reversal, and action appears in two paradigmatic parables which model all three modes of the kingdom. "The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field" (Mr 13:44). "The kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; onfinding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it" (Mr 13:45-46). The parables are simi-lar in structure, as revealed by the three verbs common to both. To unpack but one, in the parable of the treasure hidden in a field, we hear of a man whose nor.mal past-present-future is rudely but happily shattered. The future, which he has presumably planned and projected for himself, is totally invalidated by the finding (advent) of the treasure, which opens up new worlds and There is an intrinsic bond between Jesus' experience and his expression of that experience in parables. September- October 1998 Begley ¯ The Parables of Jesus and the I~natian Exercises unforeseen possibilities. In the force of this advent, he willingly reverses his entire past and acts to sell all that he has. From this advent and this reversal, he obtains the treasure that now dictates his future history in a most concrete way. It gives him a new life that he could not have planned for~himself and a new world in which to live this life (Crossan, p. 34). Advent parables are fewer than parables of reversal, ~which in turn are fewer than those of action. The frequency distribution probably reflects later tradition's needs rather than the frequency with which Jesus spoke them. Later generations experienced the advent of God in the paschal mystery of the death and resurrection of Jesus and so felt less need to preserve the parables of advent. Advent parables stress one or another of three themes: hid-denness and mystery, gift and surprise, discovery and joy. For example, in the sower and mustard-seed parables, there are sharp juxtapositions of two states. In The, Sower, three instances of sow-ing loss are contrasted with three instances of harvest gain. In The Mustard Seed the contrast is between the small seed sown and the ample shade of the fully grown plant. The parables are not concerned with growth but with miracle, "not the organic and biological development but the gift-like nature, the graciousness and surprise of the ordinary, the advent of the bountiful harvest despite the losses of sowing, the large shade despite the small seed. In these ways the kingdom is advent. It is surprise and it is gift" (Crossan, pp. 37-51, emphasis added). To turn now to the First Week of the Spiritual Exercises, con-temporary experience of both directors and retreatants under-scores the advent character of the First Week. It would be impossible to number the retreatants who have summed up their First Week experience by saying, "It is all gift." In whatever man-ner the topics Ignatius proposes for prayer are treated--topics such as sin and punishment in the history of the world and in the self, past and present--the result is not a self broken by sorrow and remorse, but rather a self healed and given new life and freedom. It is an experience of one's own sinfulness, to be sure, but it is much more an experience of God's love embracing me with all of my sinfulness. The darkness of my sinfulness is shattered by the brilliance of God's reconciling, healing love. The modern mind reading the Exercises understands Ignatius's "cry of wonder" (§60) to rise from the felt awareness of God's love as experienced in the wonder of creation, in the wondei" of Review for Religious others who have been sources of life for me, in the wonder of myself as gifted, graced, and loved. The retreatant realizes, in the phrase that has become a familiar experiential reality for those who have made at least the First Week of the Exercises, that she is a "loved sinner." Mthough memories of the past, or feelings of inadequacy, fear, or self-rejection may have gripped the retreatant, now the redemptive love of God has set the exercitant free, desirous of reordering her life more effectively "to the end for which we are created" (§23). At this point the retreatant has experi-enced what in Crossan's language is called advent. To the retreatant have been revealed the hiddenness and the mystery, the gift and surprise, the discovery and joy of the king-dom. One or another of all these parable themes describes the retreatant's experience as she concludes the First Week. What had remained hidden, the mystery of the self as loved by God, has been discovered with joy as the surprising gift of God's love. In the manner of the discovery of a pearl of great price--which cannot be explained by either the skill of the direc-tor, the dispositions of the retreatant, or natural psychological development--the retreatant experiences the sheer joy of one who is loved and affirmed in the depths of the self, not despite who one is but precisely as one is. This is the important meaning of the advent parables of Jesus, and the retreatant can profitably pray over them during the First Week. From the first meditation of the First Week, the retreatant's attention has been focused on the crucified Lord, whose love for-gives and frees. In his presence the retreatant has asked, "What ought I to do for Christ?" (§53). Having experienced advent, the retreatant is now in a position to consider what return she shall make to the Lord whose love has opened for her a new way of life, more abundant than she ever thought possible. The loved sinner desires to be a loving servant. The retreatant is ready for the Second Week, in which parables of reversal and action have an important part to play. These parables have. as their purpose "to effect a change in the hearer, to lead to decision or action" (Boucher, pp. 16-17). More To the retreatant have been revealed the hiddenness and the mystery, the gift and surprise, the discovery and joy of the kingdom. Septentber-October 1998 Begley ¯ The Parables of Jesus and the Ignatian Exercises dramatically but not less surely, the parables of reversal look to the situation where "the last becomes first and the first becomes last, We have a polar reversal, When the north pole becomes the south pole and the south the north,, a world is reversed and overturned" (Crossan, p. 55) The world that is meant here is the inner world of values, priorities, and motives. It is the inner world of atti-tudes, dispositions, habitual judgments, This reversal is very much what Ignatius proposes to the retreatant at this point in the Exercises. The readiness to turn my familiar world upside down is the necessary predisposition for a good election. Ignatius underscores this in his singularly important consid-eration on the Two Standards. In an introduction to this medita-tion (§135). Ignatius reminds us that the following of Christ in loving service admits of various degrees; the sincere following of the commandments, which has been considered in meditating on Jesus' obedience to his parents, and the state of evangelical per-fection, which was considered in the youthful Jesus remaining behind in the temple. Now the retreatant, while continuing to investigate his life, is to begin to consider and to pray for a knowl-edge of the kind of life to which the Lord summons her. In the Two Standards Ignatius asks the retreatant to imagine Christ mak-ing an address "to all his servants and friends whom he sends on this enterprise." In his address he reverses the strategy of his adversary, "the chief of all the enemy," who stands beneath the first standard. As Ignatius sums up what the retreatant is, to con-sider, he says, "Hence there will be three steps: the first, poverty as opposed to riches; the second, insults or contempt ~as opposed to the honor of this world; the third, humility as opposed to pi'ide (§146, emphasis added). The .colloquy that concludes the Two Standards meditation is to be repeated at the end of each of the five periods of prayer every day until the election has been made. This threefold collo-quy addressed first to Mary, then to her 'Son, and finally to the Father is for the grace to be received under his standard, where the disciple of Christ can expect to bear poverty and humiliations in imitation of him. In a note to the subsequent Meditation on Three Classes of Men, Ignatius advises the retreatant: "It should be noted that when we feel an attachment opposed to actual poverty or a repugnance to it. it will be very helpful in order to :overcome the inordinate attachment, even though corrupt nature rebel against it, to beg our Lord in the Colloquies to choose Review for Religqous us to serve him in actual poverty" (§ 157). As Ignatius makes clear, such a disposition does not come easily: "We should insist that we desire it, beg for it, plead for it, provided of course that it be for the service and praise of the DiVine Goodness" (§157). At the critical time of making a decision that will define the self in relation to the Lord, to others, and to the contingencies of experience, the parables of reversal will serve the retreatant's need very well. It is helpful to recall that the parables represent a call which is absolute (the kingdom cannot be subordinated to any other concern) and that this absolute call is not specific (as the command to love is not specified for each particular circumstance of human life). Indeed, it is the absolute but nonspecific nature of the call of Christ to "follow me" (here and now, or later?) that requires discernment in order to come to a properly ordered deci-sion. The absolute but nonspecific call of the parables is empha-sized in the Exercises as well. The call of Christ in the Meditation on the Kingdom is abso-lute: "Whoever wishes to join me in this enterprise must be will-ing to labor with me, that by following me in suffering he may follow me in glory" (§95.). However, the manner in which one "labors with me" is not specified. Ignatius, in the oblation which concludes the Kingdom, speaks of poverty, humiliatiqns, and humility, but ~does not specify the manner in which "those who wish to give greater proof of their love, and to distinguish them-selves in whatever concerns theservice of:~the eternal King" (§97), will incarnate the proof of their love. The specification is the goal of the retreat and requires the prayer and discernment of the retreatant. Second, the change in the "world" of the retreatant, which the First Week begins and the Second Week develops, is precisely the retreatant's world of values and judgments, of desires and priorities, of hopes and dreams. The parables of reversal chal-lenge this world of the retreatant, who, through the reciprocal process of praying the parables and "reflecting on myself," begins to investigate and ask in what kind or state of life God wishes to make use of me (§135). The retreatant enters into "the mind of Christ" (Ph 2:5) and prays to make his mind her own. The parables, which communi-cate the experience of Jesus and not conclusions or admonitions, assist the retreatant to enter into her own experience of the Kingdom and to draw from that experience her own way of life. To accept the parables and the experience they offer is to take on September-October 1998 Begley ¯ The Parables of Jesus and the Ignatian Exercises a new personal perspective, a new way of interpreting and valu-ing, of deciding and acting. In a word, the retreatant develops a different and more refined set of principles, insights, and critical judgments which can be termed a personal hermeneutic. It is to grow in faith. It is worthwhile to note that the theme of reversal is an essen-tial theme of the teaching of Jesus and of the parables. The beloved Good Samaritan parable (Lk 10:25-37) has tradition-ally been heard as an example of neighborliness. In the wake of Jeremias's study, commentators today suggest that the parable has been reconstructed in the course of transmission. The con-text (Jesus' conversation with a lawyer) and his concluding com-mand ("Go and do likewise," §37) have been provided by the early church and have to be removed from consideration if we are to .come closer to the parable as Jesus spoke it. At a distance both geographical and temporal from the world of Samaritans, priests, and Levites, the story lacked the immediacy that it had for the first listeners of Jesus, and this parable of reversal has been changed by the second-generation of Christians into an example story. Once the parable is allowed to stand on its own, it is no longer simply a story of the neighborliness that fulfills the law, but becomes a parable of reversaL Crc;ssan has brilliantly noted that, if the parable is primar-ily to provide an illustration of neighbor love or an indictment of heartless religious leaders, then help offered by a Jewish layperson would have made the proper point. The shock is that it is the Samaritan who stops. At the remove of centuries, it is easy for us to overlook the hatred that existed between Jews and Samaritans. During the period of the Exile, the Samaritans had intermarried with non-Jews, had opposed the restoration of the Jewish temple, and in the 2nd century B.C. had actually helped the Syrians in their wars against the Jews. The Jewish high priest had burned the Samaritan temple on Mount Gerizim, and the Samaritans had scattered the bones of a corpse in. the Jerusalem temple, thereby defiling it and making it impossible to celebrate Passover. The Samaritans did not accept the whole of the canon-ical Jewish Scriptures. They refused hospitality to Jesus and his disciples because they were on their way to Jerusalem (Lk 9:52- 53). The Jews believed they had insulted Jesus by calling him a Samaritan (Jn 4:7-10), and Jesus himself warned his disciples to avoid the Samaritan territory (Mt 10:5). Review for Religious The shock of the parable, calling for a reversal of attitudes on the part of its hearers, is that the one who helps the Jewish victim and fulfills the law is the enemy and religious apostate. The parable reverses our understanding of who God is and whom God approves. It destroys a narrow, legalistic under-standing of the law and reveals the hatred and divisions which had become institutionalized. The world of the lawyer and his fellow listeners is turned upside down. They are to speak the unspeakable; they are to join the apparent contradictories "good" and "Samaritan." Another parable of reversal that can be useful during the Second Week is that of the Prodigal Son. It is lengthy (Luke 15:11-32) and so well .known that we need not retell it here. In Crossan's interpretation the reversal is located in the presence of the prodigal at the banquet while his dutiful older brother is out-side pouting (Crossan, p. 75). Merely to state the reversal in this way is to grip the imagination of the retreatant. It calls for a rever-sal of mind and heart that must be prayed over until it is interi-orized and can then move the retreatant toward her election/decision with gratitude and enthusiasm. Another approach to the Prodigal Son (Donahue, pp. 151- 157) may be even more helpful to the retreatant. Here the rever-sal is in our understanding, of what constitutes a relationship to God. Both sons define sonship in terms of servile obligation: "Treat me as one of your hired servants," says the younger son; "I have slaved for you," says his older brother. Each in his own way destroys the family. "As the younger son felt that the way~ to restore the severed relationship was to become a servant, the older brother maintained it by acting as a servant. Between the dutiful son and the prodigal is a bond much deeper than is visible on the surface . A relationship . . . worked out in terms of servility leads to destruction. The relationship as redefined by the father leads to joy" (Donahue, p. 157). Some women may find it difficult to pray with the images of "father" and "sons." Sandra Schneiders has captured the power of the parable from a feminist perspective: "Jesus' parable about the father actually constitutes a radical challenge to patriarchy. The divine father who has been understood as the ultimate justification of human patriarchy is revealed as the one who refuses to own us, demand our submission, or punish our rebellion. Rather, God is the one who respects our freedom, mourns our alienation, waits Septentber-October 1998 Begley * The Parables of yesus and the Ignatian Exercises patiently for our return, and accepts our love as pure gift" (cited by Donahue, pp. 161-162). The parable conveys the essential mindset for understanding discipleship and for making the decision that leads to more faith-ful discipleship. Crossan has expressed it perfectly in his discus-sion of the primary issue between Jesus and the Pharisees: "Obedience does not lead to God, God leads one to obedience" (Crossan, p. 80). The Two Standards! Ignatius focuses the retreatant's attention upon the activity of the poor and humble Christ, and so the prayerful consideration of the action parables may be somewhat less necessary than those of advent and reversal. The action parables, though, do portray cru-cial or critical situations that demand prompt and energetic deci-sion, firm and resolute action, that are very much in line with retreat purposes. They summon us to commit ourselves in response to the advent of the kingdom regardless of the reversal they demand, and so they, can prove helpful in the later days of the Second Week. They reflect the situation of the retreatant as she moves towards free self-disposition in response to her experience of the advent of the kingdom. Parables of action portray three different responses to the urgency of action (Crossan, pp. 84-85). As examples of one response (see the parable of the friend at mid-night [Lk 11:58] or the unjust judge [Lk 18:2-5]), we meet persons who accept the inevitability of what must be done and take action. In other parables (for example, the rich fool in Lk 13:16-20), the person fails to recognize the urgency of the situation and so fails to act. A third set of action parables (for example, the bridesmaids, Mt 25:1-13) describes those who respond adequately and those who do not. These parables of Jesus can effectively move the retreatant to overcome her natural hesitancy to choose what is beyond the strength of her own resources: to choose, with faith in the advent of the kingdom within her, what "would be more for his praise and glory" (§180). The explanation of the relationship between the parables of Jesus and the Ignatian Exercises has been long. A director may well question the advisability of proposing such an explanation when Ignatius expects the director to "adhere to the points, and add only.a short or summary explanation., for it is not much knowledge that fills and satisfies the soul, but the intimate under-standing and relish of the truth" (§2). Despite the length of this article's explanation, experience has shown that it is possible to l~eview for Religio~a give retreatants a "summary explanation." Retreatants easily grasp the primary idea of the different parables, are comfortable with the understanding proposed, and experience an unexpected delight in praying the parables of Jesus. A Selection of Parables Advent parables: The leaven, Mt 13:20-21; the sower, Mk 4:3- 8; the mustard seed, Mt 4:30-32; the lost sheep, Mt 18:12-13; the lost coin, Lk 15:8-9. Reversal parables: The Good Samaritan, Lk 10:30-37; The Prodigal Son, Lk 15:11-32; the rich man and Lazarus, Lk 16:19- 31; the Pharisee and the tax collector, Lk 18:9-14; the wedding guest, Lk 14:1-24; the great supper, Mt 22:1-14; the sheep and the goats, Mt 25:31-46. Action parables: the wicked husbandmen, Mk 12:1-,12); the doorkeeper, Mk 13:33-37; the talents, Mt 25:14-3 O; the unmerciful servant, Mt 18:23-38; the unjust steward, Lk 16:1-7; the workers in the vineyard, Mt 20:1-16. Bibliography Boucher, Madeleine I. The Parables. Wilmington: Michael Glazier, 1981. Brown, Raymond E. An Introduction to the New Testament. New York: Doubleday, 1997. Crossan, John Dominic. In Parables. New York: Harper and Row, 1970. Donahue, John R. The Gospel in Parable. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1988. Fleming, David L. The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius: A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading. St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1978. Henog, William R. Parables as Subversive Speech. Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1994. Jeremias, Joachim. Rediscovering the Parables. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1989. Puhl, Louis J. (trans.). The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius. Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1951. Senior, Donald. Jesus: A Gospel Portrait, 2nd ed. Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1991. September-October 1998 ANITA J. BALY St. Ignatius and My Piano One of the best things I got out of making the thirty-day Spiritual Exercises was learning I could play the piano. That is not all that I experienced in the long retreat, by any means. And Idid not know I was taking away that particular fruit when the retreat ended. At a distance of two years, however, I sense that that.gift of musical empowerment is closely linked with my spiritual journey. What would St. Ignatius think of my response to his Exercises? Would palm slap forehead in pained frustration at my lack of com-prehension? Would he laugh--or cry? Would he sharply insist that I had trivialized the meaning of his work--and knew it? Would he smile ever so slightly and nod approval? I would not presume to read back into the saint's mind. I am even clueless as to how oth-ers who have completed the Exercises would react. In the silent and solitary conduct of the Exercises, it is impos-sible to know for sure what other retreatants derive. One can make some guesses based on body language and apparent changes, but there is no way to check out assumptions orhlly. At the con-clusion of my retreat, half a dozen of us retreatants sat and tried to share with one another what had occurred for us. What impressed me that evening was how different the perceived fruits seemed to be for each participant! It was also pleasing to see how diverse outcomes seemed to comport with the Exercises. Anita J. Baly JD, MDiv, PhD, is interim pastor of the Lutheran Church of Our Saviour and an adjunct faculty member in theology at Union Theological Seminary in Virginia and the Presbyterian School of Christian Education. Her address is 3001 Libby Terrace; Richmond, Virginia 23223. Review for Religious The Spiritual Exercises are not a map that points in only one direction via a single route. The end desired is surely the same for all Christians: that we grow continually in faithfulness to the Lord's person and work, approaching more and more the fullness of the fruits of the Spirit; that we grow in the capacity to attain, relish, and express the love of God. Or, as St. Paul says so suc-cinctly: the end (telos) the Christian seeks is "eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Rm 6:22-23).~ The means to achieving that end, however, clearly differ according to God-given differences in per-sonalities, capacities, and experiences. No means are excluded automatically since "all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose" (Rm 8:28). The Exercises affirm, support, and foster individual wrestling with God's individual graces, to attain the end that is at once universal and also particular. The Exercises, that is, attune to the fact that the Spirit blows how, as, and where it wills. Each exercitant's task is to meet that universal Spirit in the exact par-ticularity of who he or she really is. Were this not to occur, the positive effects of the Exercises in fostering "the salvation of souls and their spiritual profit" would likely be severely limited.2 Theologically this makes sense: incarnation is God's presence and manifestation only in what is really there. God does not meet us inthe past, in the future, or in the way we wish things were. Incarnation means that God meets us precisely here, immediately now. It is, I believe, out of respect for God's ways of working dif-ferendy with different individuals that St. Ignatius urges the direc-tor to be brief in explaining the meditations and contemplations (§2). The saint seems to find it acceptable that exercitants work out much of the matter of the Exercises alone, with God's help. In this way, inevitably, exercitants will surely miss some details and fine points. Ignatius's sense of the compensation for this loss is clear. He says: "It is not in knowing much, but realizing and rel-ishing things interiorly, that contents and satisfies the soul" (§2). My own journey with the Exercises involved the discovery that I could play the piano. As I see it, that was not just a nice My own journey with the Exercises involved the discovery that I could play the piano. September- October 1998 Baly ¯ St. Ignatius and My Piano thing--though it is wonderful! Studying piano has actually become a major support of my continuing spiritual journey. It was a dis-covery I in no way sought, envisioned, or wanted. It came about in response to the circumstances of my long retreat. I made the Exercises at one of the large houses that groups retreatants together with multiple outside directors for one or a few events each year) Our group of retreatants and directors numbered close to seventy people, with an overall director who is a musician. He wanted music provided for the daily liturgies and asked for vol-unteer music leaders. Although there were one or two profes-sional- quality musicians among the group, they, understandably, wanted to retreat from musical production. That left canvassing the rest of us for volunteers, and five or six of us agreed to "do something" according to our capacities. In my case that was to mean simply leading hymns and responses and functioning as a cantor. I could sing and read music, but I played no instruments. As the retreat went on, the strain of producing coordinated music in an atmosphere of total silence showed on some of the original musical volunteers, who quit. That left fewer of us respon-sible for more liturgies. So I was providing music leadership to liturgies every few days with nothing but voice--and boring myself. Besides that, the various celebrants wanted different set-tihgs of liturgical responses. In order to be able to lead those, I had to try to hear them. In the silence, no one could sing them to me beforehand. There was, however, a brief daily period when all retreatants had access to the lone piano. I managed to find the notes to plunk out the melody lines of responses. I knew where the notes were on the keyboard from years of finding singing melodies with a one-finger, hunt-and-peck .method. It was, however, a sort of desperation for variety and for beauty that prompted me to take the next step. I finally made a few attempts to play a melody line under a hymn or two and once even attempted to play something as postcommunion meditation music. Those attempts resulted in poor music that did not enhance the services, in my opinion, and embarrassed me. I suppose I would have quit trying and that would have been the end of it, were it not for the movements of a few people there. One of the directors saw my embarrassment at the poverty of my tries at accompaniment. He managed to honor that pain by helping me try again in a safer way. And, when the retreat ended and we could speak, I learned that a few of the retreatants actually assumed I was Review for Religious a professional music minister! I suppose it was that small amount of affirmation and the serendipitous discovery of pleasure in a new "skill" that prompted me to continue. Once home, I had access to a piano--through the grace of two other friends. For a year I tinkered with that piano on my own, trying to teach myself, sensing in some vague way that for me the piano was a way of continuing to connect with the graces of the retreat. A year after the retreat, I began taking formal lessons. Those have now con-tinued for over a year. The piano is one among those created things that Ignatius would urge using or discarding according to its effect--for the individual pianist--in fostering or detracting from the praise, rev-erence, and service of God (§23). Music can be perverted in var-ious ways. Of itself, though, it does seem to enjoy divine approbation. The Bible in many places, especially in the Psalms, enjoins us to sing to the Lord, to make a joyful noise, to praise our God with timbrel and trumpet, voice, dance--and strings.4 Why would music be so privileged? Maybe God just likes music. That is, the use of music for religious expressions may be linked to something in God's being. Maybe music is special because it is always a common expression, a community endeavor. Even solitary composers or musicians do not invent their instru-ments. Neither do they create the musical notes and their fun-damental relationships--though composers group in "new" ways and patterns the notes and chords they have .been given. The musical givens are built right into~the world. One who discovers them is in dialogue with God the Creator. Because I only play the piano, and do not compose music for it, I dialogue with the Creator about music at one remove. My communion with the composer provides a way for me to make my musical connection with the Directing Source. When I attend faithfully to playing that music as it is written down, I know something too of God's conducting. That faithful attempt to connect with the composer's aural "vision" helps me understand and even "hear" that my studying and playing piano is connected also with my spiritual journey. For me, both praying and piano playing seem more satisfying and closer to hitting the mark when I approach them with a certain kind of discipline. Ignatius illuminates the fact that successful meditation involves the integration of memory, reason, will, and feelings (§50). And the good progress of the Exercises seems to verify that pro- September-October 1998 Baly ¯ St. Ignatius and My Piano found insight. To me, it proves the saint was truly a spiritual genius, As one who .once scored a hundred percent on the feeling compo-nent of the Myers-Briggs Preference Test, my psyche is perpetually on the edge of drowning in emotion. Besides that, my imagination is so strong that I could almost live in it. Now, imagination and feeling are essential for getting through the Exercises. It is difficult to see how an Application of the Senses meditation, for example, could progress without them (§123). The same is true for music. Without feeling, it is lifeless and powerless. Imaginative hearing certainly helps in the process of learning music. Feeling and imagination are good things in moderation. As an extreme "feeler" and "imaginer," however, I cleave to the Ignatian system because of the constant pressure it exerts on me to think and to perceive what is actually there in the world. Overly enthu-siastic thinkers and sensers probably value the Ignatian system for the opposite reason: the pressure it exerts on them to feel and to imagine. One of the supreme marvels of Ignatius's method is the way it teaches, inculcates, presumes, and honors balance. Such balance and integration are often difficult, to keep up in daily life. They are particularly hard to sustain at times of stress when the temptation is to fall back into the ways of reacting that are most automatic and comfortable for us. Our customary responses may be too lopsided to be effective--or holy. It is aware-ness followed by practice, building habits of mind and heart, that can help us to redirect our responses away from the habitual and into more prudent directions. The practice of Ignatian prayer helps with this. In a very similar way, the study of piano also teaches me to strive for balanced, integrated responses. Playing piano, like praying in the lgnatian.mode, requires using memory to aid the intellect, engaging the will in the endeavor, and aligning feelings with the will. My teacher, thus, emphasizes for me the importance of learning chord relationships and learning and remembering proper fingering. In this way my memory assists my reasoning about how to play a new piece of music. And only when my will controls my~ feelings can I keep my enthusiasm from ruining the dynamics and phrasing of com-positions. For me it is truly useful discipline to have to count continuously, thereby exercising a form of reason. My teacher also patiently reminds me that I must play the piece as it is writ-ten-- not as I may prefer or wish it to be, nor as I would find it easier to play. Those reminders are echoes of incarnation! When Review for Religious I lose the balance and proper relationship of memory, reason, will, and feelings, the pieces do not sound right. They cease to please the ear. In a profound sense they are no longer "good." In turn, that reminds me that, when I lose the balance in my spiri-tual life, it too is swerving from the best direction. One particular place where Ignatius urges balance and indif-ference is in making an election (§179). The single criterion of election is that a given alternative seems to lead more to the glory and praise of God and to the salvation of one's soul. The ideal choice, thus, is very pure and very disciplined. In a similar way, the best choice in playing music will be to put aside any personal inclinations or biases or even technical insufficiencies. The goal is to play the piece as near as possible to the composer's intention. The search for that intention can be like discerning the will of God. Sometimes neither the one nor the other is apparent on the surface. It is in both cases openness, dialogue, respect, fidelity, and persistence that create the atmosphere in which disclosure becomes more likely. Within all the balance and indifference in prayerful elections, however, it does seem that reason takes primacy (§ 182). Ignatius seems almost to anticipate the Kantian ethical principle about acting in ways that would please you if they became universal law. The saint counsels us to imagine advising an unknown person whose sanctification we desire, within the context of our own sense of what best conduces to God's glory. Having determined that advice, we are ourselves to follow it (§185). So too in music, where it is hard to imagine advising anyone to play a work other than as it is written. Once reason has helped us to know the goal for living well or for playing music well, the honorable course is to set about engaging the other parts of the personality to col-laborate in moving to this end, and in practicing and honing needed skills for doing so. Relaxation and trust enhance both instrumental playing and prayer. At a recent lesson, my piano teacher watched and heard me struggle through a work white-knuckled, tight-shouldered, gri-macing, and gritting my teeth. She then inquired, sweedy, whether I found it easier to play tense or relaxed. That reminded me of the priest at my last directed retreat who kept urging me to pray in Imaginative hearing certainly helps in the process of learning music. Septentber-October 1998 Baly ¯ St. Ignatius and My Piano peace and serenity--until I finally did. Tension and trying to retain control do not facilitate progress in either prayer or piano. Humility certainly helps in both spheres. Ignatius specifically counsels cultivating the attitude of humility at those times we contemplate our sins. He says that we are then to "lessen" our-selves via various imaginative comparisons (§58). The whole envi-ronment of the Exercises, moreover, induces humility. Much in the system cooperates to encourage the exercitant to esteem God's control and another's direction over what comes from the self alone. For me the Exercises went best at those times when I was most teachable and directable. The same is true of piano study: I play better by attuning to what is there musically and to the teacher. Playing the piano and praying are complementary processes that call on remarkably similar skills. As I hone technique in one area, I also seem to position myself for advancement in the other activity. A kind of cross-leavening seems to occur. As I attend con-sciously to what happens, it seems as though piano learnings tend to foster px:ayer learnings, not vice versa. I think that is because progress in piano happens in an external realm where any who wish may hear, measure, compare, iudge, criticize, and so forth. The no-less-real results of prayer exist in' an internal sphere fully accessible neither to others nor even to myself. Whatever helps someone to understand more of what occurs in personal prayer and to be able to communicate that has to be a boon to progress in prayer. Piano does those things for me. Piano also intimates to me and gives me the hope that King Hezekiah expressed: "The Lord will save me, and we will sing to my stringed instruments all the days of our lives, at the house of the Lord" (Is 38:20). Notes 1 Scriptural citations are from the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible. 2 The quoted words are from the Papal Approbation of St. Ignatius' Spiritual Exercises in 1548, as given in David L. Fleming SJ, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius: A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1978), p. xxiii. Other citations (§) are standard paragraph numberings used in this and other modern trans-lations of the Exercises. 3 Jesuit Retreat House, Los Altos, California. 4 Psalms 33, 68, 81, 92,144, 149, and 150 all direct the use of musi-cal instruments in praising God. Review for Religious JOSEPH A. TETLOW The Experience of God in Consecrated Life during the 20th Century In this article I try to describe the experience of God, not to prescribe for it. I begin, first, with the meanings of the terms spirituality and religion and the content of the term experi-ence. Second, I characterize modern times just before Vatican Council II under three headings: aggressive realism, methodi-cal universalism, and rugged individualism. I do this because modernity has marked consecrated life deeply and in some mea-sure still marks it, and because, when conservatives talk about the past, this is the past they mean. Third, about the council, I note only that the reform of church structures and the renewal of consecrated life brought out deep problems with authority and with our concept of the self. Finally, coming to today, I urge that we can appreciate consecrated life well in terms of the postmodern understanding of experience as constructed, derivative, intentional, and dialogic. I hope these somewhat scattered theoretical points will deepen our reflection on what the experience of God has been in consecrated life during the cen-tury that is now ending. Spirituality. For us spirituality means the experience of God in Christ. For others it means other things. The Communist government of China, for instance, has begun Joseph A. Tetlow SJ makes available here a talk that he pre-sented in Rome at a workshop attended by members of the union of major superiors of men religious; it retains something of that provenance. No newcomer to these pages, he is director of the Secretariat for Ignatian Spirituality; C.P. 6139; 00195 Roma Prati; Italy. consecrated life September-October 1998 Tetlow ¯ The Experience o[ God in Consecrated Life promoting what it calls a "spiritual civilization." Alcoholics Anonymous acknowledges only a "Higher Power" but has a spir-ituality. So has the New Age pseudo-philosophy. In this article the word spirituality is used in none of those vague senses. Here it means the experience of God in Christ, always incarnated in a tradition of prayer and interior discipline.~ A spiritual life, consequently,is the ongoing, cherished, fos-tered experience of God in Christ in one of the great consecrated-life traditions.2 Shifting "from the former stress on the rational to the experiential," serious theologians now recount "the in-break-ing God of personal experience.''3 Karl Rahner, certainly a spec-ulative theologian, was deeply stirred by Ignatius's conviction "that he had in fact experienced God directly and that others may do so as well.''4 Rahner wrote many prayers like this one.- "Thanks to your mercy, O infinite God, I know somethingabout you not only through concepts and words, but through experience . Yes, really you yourself, not just a concept of you, not just the name which we ourselves have given you.''5 John of the Cross experienced God, not an idea or a poem, and so did Don Bosco, St. Benedict, the author of the Cloud. Each experienced God in the specific way God chose~ All those who follow each of them adopt the perspectives, perceptions, and values of their masters, desiring and determined to know God as their tradition knows God. This is what we mean by spirituality. It differs from religion. Religion. Religion is the experience of creed, code, cultus, and culture and, in and through these creatures, the experience of God. Hinduism; Buddhism, Islam, even animism yield the expe-rience of God in the experience of creed, code, cultus, and cul-ture. 6 Islam, for instance, holds faith in Allah and in the prophet Mohammed, follows a moralistic code, practices cultus six times a day and a month each year, and has spread into a vast poly-morphous culture. Each Muslim experiences these creatures directly and, in them, God. The "ordinary Christian" who spent three hours worshiping in St. Peter's Square on Palm Sunday felt the presence of God in the liturgy. True, many ordinary Christians may have momentary "mystical experiences"; Andrew Greeley reported in one survey that perhaps eight in ten American Catholics have had such experiences, and we have no reason to think Americans more mystical than any other people. But those "mystical experiences" come as a surprise, for religious people Review for Religious experience God indirectly, through the created creed, code, cul-tus, and culture in their everyday lives. Religious leaders need to note two points connected with this: first, about the apostolate. The people we serve, the "millions in the middle," in Cardinal Joseph Bernardin's phrase, experience God in and through their religion. When the powerful or the super-spiritual despise these people's religion, the people suffer; for their special experience of God seems despised and degraded. Perhaps the church harmed them inadver-tently when it swiftly and almost wordlessly dismantled the liturgi-cal use of Latin and quotidian laws about fasting and communion on the tongue, Yet for centuries the church had called the full, whole-hearted living of religion, just reli-gion, "spirituality." Only a few centuries ago did theologians begin using the word spirituality for the life lived by an active, dedicated, religious elite, and only in the last two centuries did theologians begin separating the experience we call spirituality from the experience we call religion. We who find ourselves in this "elite" run the risk of so raising up spirituality as to depreciate religion. This is wrongheaded. The second thing superiors might note here concerns our own congregational lives. Are there not men in every congrega-tion who live the charism in wholehearted ways and yet cannot say they know God? We all know men who have pictures of the Holy Father, of saints and holy places, all over their rooms and offices. Perhaps they are living religion--creed, code, cultus, and cul-ture- as religion is embodied in a congregation's way of life, with all its pious practices. (Somebne told about a man who was watch-ing television and reading his breviary during the commercial breaks. He explained that Jesus had instructed us to "watch and pray.") Above all, perhaps we should consider whether the strongly conservative among us may live their interior lives in this way of religion. How do they experience God? Experience. Our topic is experience. As everyone does today, I have been talking about experience as though we all mean the same thing. But we do not. Some say experience includes just what Only in the last two centuries did theologians begin separating the experience we call spirituality from the experience we call religion. September-October 1998 Tetlow ¯ The Experience of God in Consecrated Life happens; some, that experience includes only what I am conscious of happening; some tinsist that human experience always includes language. Every one of. us, also, varies what he includes in the term. What does our topic mean, "The experience of God in con-secrated life"? Obviously, we cannot work out a perfect descrip-tion of experience here and now. Also obviously, we are probably not going to talk about it the way "scientific" philosophers talk about it. We are going to talk about experience, most likely, as Vita consecrata does.7 Perhaps, though, we need to notice, on a slightly theoretica,1 plane, that today people regularly talk about experience by using seven categories. A sort of common philosophy holds that each and every experience unfolds in seven dialogically inter-related elements: context, perspective, perception, value, desire, decision, and habit. We tend to think that any and every experi-ence is adequately described when each of these elements is accounted fo~, both in itself and in its relationship with each of the other elements. So, biographers get the concrete details of their subjects' time and place and recount how their context shaped their perspectives, how their values shaped their perceptions, and so on. Scripture scholars try to recapture the context of Jesus' life and the perspectives, perceptions, and values with which his context would have imbued him. When we look at a man's expe-rience to see whether he has the capacity to govern, we weigh his decisions and hal6its, how he perceives, what he values. Things like these constitute our view of his experience. So, at least for now, let that stand for what experience is. The description is hardly .satisfactory, so why did I raise the question? For two reasons. Fil:st, we whose main task is listening to .others must keep in mind that there is no such thing as a naive appeal to experience. The man who says, "Well, my experience tells me such-and-such" has not ended discussion, but just begun it. As philosophical theologiaJ~ John Smith argues, every appeal "carries with it a theory of experience, some principle indicating what expe-rience is and how much it is supposed to contain.''8 Conflicts between superiors and consecrated men, between individuals and their communities, commonly grow from different appreciations of experience. The second reason we need to be aware of the con-tent of experience is that the teaching church is changing its approach to experience, but is no more consistent than any of us in what content it puts into the word. Review for Religious Now let me turn to the three topics I mean to open: the pre-conciliar and modern, the council, and the postconciliar or post-modern. Preconciliar and Modern Times I begin with a story. In 1947 a young man of sixteen boarded a train on his way to a novitiate. Answering the questions of the novice-master, his back straight and shoulders squared, he explained his call. He felt drawn to a military life (his father had sent him to a military school). But he thumped the oak arm of his chair--absolutely, God wanted him to be a religious and a priest. Fifty years later, he remains both. The year 1947 came in the evening of modern times. What is modernity? How had it affected our experience of God in Christ? Intellectual historians generally concur on certain qualifies. Albert Borgmann, for instance, identifies as marks of modernity an aggressive realism (we experiment to know and we intend to con-trol life and nature with our knowledge); methodical universalism (any empirically established truth is true in every realm and in any culture); and rugged individualism (the person comes to be over against the community). Aggressive Realism. In the 1950s we perceived the modern uni-verse, unlike the medieval Christian cosmos, as impersonal and governed by regular laws that had to be understood mathemati-cally. We felt free to tear out forests, dig up mountains, and blow a hole in the earth's atmosphere. As we grew absorbed in this aggressive realism, in Richard Tarnas's words, "God was now dis-tantly removed from the physical universe, as creator and archi-tect, and was now less a God of love, miracle, redemption, or historical intervention than a supreme intelligence and first cause.''9 1 have the clearest recollection from the early 1950s of being instructed by a spiritual book written by a Frenchman and translated by a North American to turn at the end of a period of prayer and with whole heart and great fervor pray to "my First Cause." 10 This kind of realism seriously trammeled our experience of God, in part because that realism was magnified by a centuries-long failure in the church to develop anything like an adequate theology of creation,~ as John Courtney Murray argued in his book, The Problem of God. In modern times we spoke about God's Septonber-October 1998 Tetlow ¯ The Experience of God in Consecrated Life providence or God's will, both exercised, in some measure, in dis-tans. But we had lost the strong sense of God continually, con-stantly creating us and personally calling us.~2 Most religious are still surprised and delighted to hear that we are in an intimate relationship with God the ongoing Creator. In truth, our God had some of the aspects of the rationalists' Great Watchmaker who created the earth and spun it off to do its own work. Notice that the experience of God in consecrated life in the West has been countercultural and is an important gift to the Western church, as Vita consecrata points OUt.13 It also has to be the source of a renewed theology of creation for the church (one thinks of Teilhard de Chardin). Rugged Individualism. Just a century ago the West gave scien-tific sanction to individualism in social Darwinism's "survival of the fittest." So the powerful grabbed oil, railroad lands, monopolies in finance, and so on; the less than powerful were taught to blame themselves. Between Vatican Councils I and II, between the first automobile and the first manned space vehicle, the socioeconomic program of the West, in Roberto Mangabeira Unger's words, was "to turn all society into a world of patrons and clients.''~4 Furthermore, this was certainly the methodical program of the Communist elites (only six percent of China's population) and arguably the established program of the rest of the world. Princes and rich landowners lavished patronage; their clients begged help. Colonial powers favored a native elite (that now rules seventy-five new nations); the natives depended on them. Bosses ruled "their" workers; bishops had "their" priests; religious superiors had "their" subjects. All these were "clients," including the reli-gious, who leaned on (the Indo-European root of "client" is klei, to incline to or lean on). their superiors. This patron/client relationship flourished in the church, which Catholics were taught to conceive of as a "perfect" society, that.is, a visible society fully equipped for its purposes with autonomous rights and resources, with powers of jurisdiction, legislation, and administration, and, in words of Pius XlI in Mystici Corporis, a society lifted "above the whole natural order [by] the Spirit of the Redeemer, who., penetrates every part of the church's being and is active within it.''~s We religious exhorted one another to dependence on our superiors. I do not speak critically here. We must empathize with this earlier perspective on authority. Authority was felt to be, in itself, profoundly benevolent to the Review for Religious subject, creative, and ultimately successful in making people what God wished them to be, Modern people simply did what they were told by superiors, and if some of them acted immorally-- remember Eichmann--many others flourished under good lead-ership. And tens of thousands of consecrated men lived holy and productive lives by doing what they were told. It was in this con-text that a young man (just like the one who took that train in 1947), when told .by his master of novices to tie his hands to his bedstead to avoid nocturnal pollution, at first obeyed confidently. I say "at first," for there was a shadow side to this embrace of authority. As Donald Gelpi has written, "submission of one's own will to a superior [was] subtly trans-formed from a means into an end in itself." 16 The religious subjects had an. easy way to personal holiness, and, superiors could ask them to be instruments of our congregations, instruments, we confidently believed, in God's hands. Very commonly it is this instrumentalism that conservatives yearn to recapture. One man said as much to me as he was planning a par-ticularly egregious action against some liberal Christians: "I just want to be a hammer in God's hands." What did he think he is? Who had responsibility for his harmful activities? Authority, and its instruments, were experienced as univer-sally valid until the very late stages of modernism. This century's experiences--the Holocaust, the Soviet Union's Gulag, Idi Amin, My Lai, terrorism, governmental lying, the totalitarian habit of "disappearing" people---have changed our appreciation of author-ity. In earlier modernity it was perceived as benevolent; at moder-nity's end, it has come to be perceived as malevolent or at best deeply ambiguous. Even consecrated men may nowadays won-der, at a letter from superiors, What do they want now? At the end of modernity, as Hannah Arendt argued, we have to study what authority once was to come to any realistic appreciation of it. This situation is, in part, the fruit of rugged individualism. Methodical Universalism. If the secular world gladly embraced empiricism as a universal method, the church embraced scholas- We had lost the strong sense of God continually, constantly creating us and persona, lly calling us. Septentber-October 1998 Tetlow ¯ The Experience of God in Consecrated Life ticism as gladly. Before Vatican II, the teaching church was insist-ing on a unique philosopbia perennis, a single intellectual approach to meaning in human life. This insistence expressed a methodical universalism; it belonged more to modernity than to revelation. Scientists rigidly adhered to what they considered induction; Catholics rigidly adhered to deduction. One reviewer in 1949 called a masterwork by Garrigou-Lagrange "an outstanding exam-ple of the ability of a master scientist to draw a whole system of practical conclusions from a single principle.''17 The book was The Three Ages of the Interior Life, and the reviewer resonated with the book's methodical universalism.18 Integral to that methodical universalism was the firm con-viction that nature had an intrinsic order, put there by God and functioning flawlessly. Unaided reason could perceive this order with certitude (one of my philosophy professors liked to cite the Letter to the Romans). This modern trust in reason unrelated to God'.s "ongoing revelation transmuted the church's philosophical commitment to a "natural law." The trust in reason and law affected consecrated life, too: "Keep the rule, and the rule will keep you." As the 20th century progressed, we learned that nature ordered itself by evolution--having been so created by God at the time of the Big Bang. Catholics were quicker than most to accept that scientific theory as fact. Then we learned also that each person evolves, comes to be, grows, from some interior prin-ciple. The combination, grew to an insistence on "authenticity." Hence, as one author summarized the development, "in contrast with the medieval Christian worldview, modern man's indepen-dence- intellectual, psychological, spiritual--was radically affirmed, with increasing depreciation of any religious belief or institutional structure that would inhibit man's natural right and potential for existential autonomy and individual self-expres-sion." 19 He has caught most of the shibboleths of the 1960s, the pseudo-ideas, the decaying core convictions of modernity: inde-pendence, radical, institutional, structures, natural right, auton-omy, self-expression. These are the "plastic words" that many of us used when pushing far in the conciliar reforms.2° Vatican II and the Return to Roots Here is another story. Around 1967 a man from a religious com-munity made a workshop-retreat. He had been busy running a college Review for Religious and raising funds; he had never made a directed retreat or listened to one of the well'known spiritual gums. About a month a#er his expe-rience, he told another man in his community that the retreat had been powerful. He had never known, really known, that God accepts him, that God loves him as he is. He wept as he recounted the experience. In complex and varying ways, modernity had shaped the con-secrated life before Vatican II. Now we were called by the great decree Petfectae caritatis to return to our roots, to leave nature alone for a w, hile and go back to history. We needed to re-create our communities, an immensely conse-quential effort, which meant recovering ¯ our history. Some of us found that our communities were hardly living our full histories. I was astonished, for instance, to find out that St. Ignatius Loyola did not found the Society of Jesus all alone, but led a committee of friends in the Lord. to found the Company. (I have never been sure what that committee tells us about Jesuits.) One of the great consequences was a deep shift in leadership style from hierar-chical power to discerning authority, a genuinely splendid achieve-ment. Superiors decided that they were called, in Ann Ida Gannon's bold phrase, "for the service of [their] fellow religious.''~ They learned to be servant-leaders, adopting a leadership style that rejects power and governs by authority. So we began to reha-bilitate authority, and to reconnect the modern individualist to the community. Authority, which humankind always needs, is the ability so to arrange a lifeworld that those served by authority desire in great freedom to follow its decisions. Fully exercised, leadership by authority elicits and empowers the authority of every individual. For in its roots--note the Latin nounauct0r (originator, doer, author) and verb augere (increase)~authority names a human per-son's self-actualization and growth, which cannot happen to a person except in connection with a community. We need to pur-sue a difficult notion here: the concept of the self. Under the weight of modern individualism, we came to think of the self as isolated, estranged--all those anguishes of existentialism. We came to appreciate the self as having no extension, independent Fully exercised, leadership by authority elicits and empowers the authority of every individual. Septentber-October 1998 Tetlow ¯ The Experience of God in Consecrated Life not only of our bodies but even of our experiences. We have all heard people say that they can "use their experience," as though it were a computer program. We have heard that a woman "has a right over her own body" as though it were something like a suit-case. Charles Taylor summarized all this as "the punctiliar self.''22 The self has become like a little point floating through our life-world, our own life history, our experiences, convictions, body parts. For our topic, the important thing to notice is that, when the conciliar renewal arrived, we were all thinking of the self detached from our own experience and over against the commu-nity. When one of us said "I personally think." he really meant "I individually think"--that is, over against the rest of society. For person had come to mean individual and had been cut off from society. Only during postmodernity, with its search for commu-nity, did we recover the truth that no human person can exist apart from the human community. We are not angels. We might note one final rather abstruse but intensely conse-quential point. The modern concept of self, split off in Catholic life from any adequate theology of ongoing creation, let us conceive of our autonomy as almost divine. That concept entailed both the "denial of death" that philosophers have noted in some cultures and also an attempt at repudiating creaturehood. Thus, many could retract their permanent commitments and their priestly vows: "It was not my true self." At the beginning of this century, theolo-gians wrote of a triad: God, man, and creatures. Listen to the incompleteness of the modernist expression in Canon Four of the Roman Missal: "You have created man and set him over all crea-tures." Not "over all other creatures"; just "over all creatures." After the council we in consecrated life once again began to hear all other creatures "speak to us in 'their own right," and it is not an accident that consecrated men and women have been leading the so-called "ecological spirituality" movement.23 Postmodernism and Expe~ience A thirdstory. In 1987 more thanfifty men from oneprovince made a retreat together. They listened to briefpresentations during the day and prayed in silence. In the evenings they sat around and talked about themselves: How did I get my vocation, what was the hardest obedience I ever faced, where has the cross been in my life? Each said what he wished to say, the young and the 6ld; no one answered another; no one Review for Religious was forced to speak. Ten years later the men still remember that expe-rience. It drew them into communion. They even found out that they liked one another. Describing postmodernity is like describing where you are in a vast desert. There are markers, of course; but they are very hard to discern. I particularly like a triad developed by philosopher Albert Borgmann, whom I have already cited: "For each of the modern principles a counter possibility is emerging: information processing in place of aggressive realism, flexible specialization instead of methodical universalism, and informed cooperation rather than rugged individualism.''24 This is a description of global culture, but perhaps you recognize these emerging experiences: Information processing: Once we worked by the rule; now we read the signs of the times and discern. Flexible specialization: Once we legislated apostolic work; now we inculturate, make the option for the poor, and try to keep faithful to our charism. Informed cooperation: Once our ideal of obedience was the blind man being led; now we dialogue, discern, and even as we are given a mandate we remember that we are, each of us, free men. This is conse-crated life in a postmodern world. We are not likely to comprehend the experience in any seri-ous way unless we accept that postmodernity sees experience as a construct of many elements. This construct is intentional (of and by and for and with other persons and things); derivative (from other experiences and other things); and dialogic (moving in and out, back and forth, between old self and new self). Let me take each of these marks of experience and suggest a thought or two about consecrated life. Constructed. Experience is constructed. It incorporates a past and moves into a future; it combines social, cultural, intellectual, emotive, aesthetic; it entails sensations, memories, desires, and perceptions. Thus, even Descartes's insight Cogito ergo sum--one of the deepest roots of modern individualism--was in a language (Latin) that many past and present spoke. He had the insight with a brain incorporating DNA from two other persons. He felt emo-tions and conviction. Every experience is thus constructed, so that George Schner can correctly claim, "There is a sense in which no experience is strictly 'mine.'''25 The experience of living a consecrated life is also, quite obvi-ously, a construct. Each of us had a unique experience when tak-ing vows, yet we used a formul~ used by thousands before us. And September-October 1998 Tetlow * The Experience of God in Consecrated Life we promised to live these vows accordi

Issue 27.4 of the Review for Religious, 1968. ; ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. John C. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to l~vmw FOR I~LmmUS; 6~ Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63xo3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 3=I Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9m6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University~ the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1968 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS at428 East Preston Street; Bahirnore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class post.age paid at Baltimore, Maryhmd. Single cop~es: $1.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two )'ears; other countries: 55.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIE~,' FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, wher~ accom-panied by a remittance, should be sent to REWEW vo~ RELIGIOUS; P. O. Box 671; Baltimore, Maryland 21203. Changes of address, business correspondence, and orders not accompanied by a remittance should be sent to REVIEW ~OR RELIGIOUS ; 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to REview ro~ R~LIGIOGS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. JULY 1968 VOLUME 27 NUMBER 4 DAVID T. ASSELIN, s.J. Christian Maturity and Spiritual Discernment My purpose is to situate personal spiritual discernment in the context of faith-growth, that is, Christian matu-rity. From this viewpoint, to educate the faith is less a question of theological instruction than one of guided. spiritual experience. I am thinking of the teleioi of Hebrews 5:14, "the mat~[re who have their faculties trained by experience to discern between good and evil," an excellent summary of the Spirit's work of restoration out of the chaos which resulted from man's original attempt to determine good and evil for himself and on his own. The term could also be translated "the perfect," or, perhaps, "the personally fulfilled." Faith, throughout this discussion, should be under-stood in the sense of Vatican II's Decree on the At~osto-late of the Laity: Only by the light of'faith [the impressive word is "only"] and by meditation on the word of God, can one always and everywhere recognize God, in whom "we live and move and have our being," seek His will in every event, see Christ in all men whether they are close to us or strangers, make correct judgments about the true meaning and value of temporal things, both in themselves and in their relationship to man's final goal. ¯ Ex.cept for meditation on Scripture nothing is said in this text about the means of maturing the faith. The Council simply outlines the content of adult faith. What I should like to explore is an indispensable element in the process of maturation of this content. The truth of the matter is that faith is not primarily a source of answers to our questions but rather our answer to the Lord's question; "Lovest thou me?" In other words, I take faith not as quest for answers (to our in-tellectual problems) nor as a set of answers (to the ques-tions of "others), but as the answer "of the whole person 4, David T. Asselin, S.J., is spiritual di-rector at Regis Col-lege; 3425 Bayview Avenue; Willow-dale, Ontario; Can-ada. VOLUME 27, 1968 581 ÷ ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 582 to the Lord inserting His Person and Spirit, and thus articulating Himself as the divine Word, in human life. My general proposition is that at the very heart of growing in faith we find, necessarily, a refinement and increase of the grace of spiritual discernment. Without discernment there is no growth in faith. Spiritual dis-cernment, therefore, is less a question of being intellec-tually clever than of being graced and called by the Lord to grow in knowledge of Him. All things serve the Lord of history; all persons are called to be the vehicles of His creative will; all men willy-nilly serve the God of human history's purposes. Otherwise, they would not be introduced into ongoing incarnational history. However, not everyone, so far, seems to hear the call to know the Lord he se~wes, to know Him as a friend does a friend, as a son his father, a wife her husband. To know Him is the mark of spiritual growth and maturity. Faith-growth is God's work. Man can do no better than collaborate with the divine initiative in his spiritual life. This seems to imply several things. First of all, as the spiritual point of departure, it de-mands an openness to being moved by God. This is the key to obedience as well as to all spiritual encounter. The fundamental Christian attitude, then, is that of a listener, one who is open to divine initiatives whatever they might be. It is radically and essentially a prayer-attitude, one that continues, or ought to continue, be-yond prayer into the apostolate and every other work or experience. The second implication is a need for some continual scrutiny and reflection in regard to the experiences inte-rior to 6neself in prayer and in all life's situations. This self-examination is needed not merely to lay hold of juridically impt.~table faults but more importantly to grow in habitual discrimination and discernment-by-faith of the various, interior experiences and personal spiritual calls--impulses, inclinations, attractions, re-pugnances, assaults--that occur much more frequently than perhaps we either admit or spiritually discern. The third demand is a growing ability to recognize and respond only to those experiences which are dis-cernibly frotn the Lord. Here, in the area of concrete affectivity, are the contacts with the Lord's divine initia-tives guiding the individual person or community. The difference between personal spiritual direction and spir-itual government of a community involves a difference in the mode of spiritual scrutiny and recognition of the divine will in the concrete. Whatever accidental dif-ference may emerge in the mode of reflection on ex-perience, both the community scrutiny and the ifldi- .vidual scrutiny lead ultimately to the possibility of a response which we may call "rightly ordered," a direct response to inner vocation that gives first place to answer-ing the.Lord's question, "Lovest thou me?" In brief, these three requirements---openness to spir-itual experience, reflection on it, and response-ability to it--are basic elements in the growth of personal sensi-tivity to the initiatives of the Lord, or spiritual discern-ment. Whether on the community or individual level, in order to achieve government, spiritual direction, or faith-growth, the cooperation of several is required. The director 'and the directed, the superior and the subject, the spiritual father and his "son,'~ must both be. humbly alert in a collaboration of listening to the Lord's Spirit~ The basic relationship of spiritual direction and govern-ment is a structured team-work of director and directed in discerning the will of the Lord in concrete~ situations. Both, then, must be continually subordinated to the Lord's Spirit and His word as the principal director. The hierarchy of subordination, in the context of spir-itual direction, is that of a human directo]: who by his calling is the servant of a relationship growing between the one directed and the Spirit of the Lord. In a sense, then, the human director takes his stand, spiritually, in the lower, not the higher, place. In this relationship of spiritual direction, destined to serve the Lord's creative work in the individual and in the ~ommunity, the responsibility falls first on the Lord Himself, secondly on the group or the individual' called to Him, and finally on the servant of their relationship, the spiritual director. If there" is any subordination to human direction in responding to God, this sub-ordination must be established by the Lord and guaran-teed. by Him (or by a convenant or pact freely entered into on the part of the subject). Growth in discernment of the action of God's Spirit is, then, the thing which truly matures and estab-lishes in the faith a spiritual person or community. An authentic spiritual community is one which can be described in terms of its real awareness of being moved and directed by the Holy Spirit, on many levels. This awareness is not just found vaguely throughout the com-munity but according to the clearly defined functions of properly subordinated individuals. As we find in the Gospels, to be great in the community° of the Lord is to be the least and servant of all. The work of the one wh~)se responsibility it is to direct others is a work of assisting them, as individuals and as a group, to hear and respond better to the Lord's initiatives in every ,situa-tion. This direction or government is a spiritual thing pre2 ÷ 4, Maturity and ¯ Discernment ~VOLUME 27, 1968 583 ÷ ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 584 cisely to the extent that it is collaboration with the Lord's Spirit, the ultimate director and superior. The Lord's indications, leads, initiatives, must be discerned as coming from Him and then followed, if a man is to serve the Lord in a way befitting man, that is by knowing the Lord he serves. There is, then, a need today to respect the importance and centrality of interior, personal, spiritual experience without undue fear of false mysticism or of the folly of the enthusiasts, quietists, alumbrados. Moreover, we must investigate the area of spiritual experience today because the Church is not only inviting ns but requiring us to do so, in the words of one who cries out: "He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches" (Ap 2:11). The word "maturity" has been aptly defined by the Swiss psychologist, Jean Piaget, who made extensive studies of children in their process of development. Mh-turity, he found, is simply an increase in the capacity to differentiate in a practical manner interior experiences and operations. If we adopt this definition, then the life of faith in a man is mature to the extent that it involves a capacity to reflect upon, understand, discriminate be-tween, and respond to, the inner spiritual stimuli that he experiences within himself. The Lord's Personal Call It might be well here to suggest some relationships between general law or principle on the one hand, and individuated personal experience on the other. To di-vorce the two is to fall into legalism and moralism, or into a kind of situation-ethic. The problem is how to relate these poles. It is true that general law and principle rightly and concretely circumscribe each personal situation. But they do so only to the extent that this situation is common to all men, and not proper to this person as such. I mean that the situations of Peter and of Paul are cor-rectly guided by general principle only insofar as Peter and Paul are men, therefore impersonally considered, not insofar as they are distinguished from each other by name. Peter qua Peter is more than just a man. In this regard permit me to draw attention to the per-fect way of knowing a man, intimately and personally, which is the Lord's way of knowing him, that is, by name. We read in Isaiah 43:1: "Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name: you are mine." Or again, in John 10:3: "The sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them forth." Scripture continually reveals the personal and intimate knowledge that the Lord has of each of His creatures: "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I dedicated you, a prophet to the nations I appointed you" (Jer 1:5); "Lord, you have pi:obed me and you know me, you understand my thoughts from afar, with all my ways you are familiar, even~ before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know the whole of it, where can I go from your Spirit, from your presence where can I flee" (Ps 138:139). Just as it is clear that the Lord knows and calls each man by name, it is equally clear that man becomes spir-itually mature to the extent that he can recognize and acknowledge who it is that is calling him, responding to . the Lord by name in all things: The days are coming, says the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the House of Israel and the House of Judah. It will not be like the covenant I made with their fathers the day I took them by the hand to lead them forth from the land of Egypt. For they broke my covenant and I had to show myself their master, says the Lord. But this is the covenant which I will make with the House of Israel after those days, says the Lord. I will place my law within them, and write it upon their hearts; I will be their God, and they shall be my people. No longer will they have need to teach their friends and kinsmen how to know the Lord. All, the least to the greatest, shall know Me, says the Lord, for I will forgive their evil doing and remember their sin no more (Jer 31:31ff.). It seems clear, here and elsewhere in Scripture, that God is establishing with each human person as well as with His community a new spiritual relatiqnship of tremendous value which exceeds the expectations of authentic Chris-tian personalism today. In order to discover the meaning of Peter qua Peter, and of Paul as unique and distinct from Peter, in the context of universal salvation history (which, after all, is the task in which spiritual directors and superiors are, I believe, primarily intended to assist), it is necessary to discover the unique meaning, value, and orientation that is proper to Peter's spiritual situation precisely as distinct from Paul's, before the Lord. By what kind of logic is this sort of knowledge attained? Over and above the universal validity of general principle and law, Peter, as an unrepeatable, unique individual, must be guided by a logic that is other than the logic of general principle and universal law. In other words, there are two kinds of logic. One logic, which .we might call conceptual or proposi-tional, is the basis for reasoning in universally valid terms. The point of departure, the principle or the foun-dation from which the successive insights and conclu-sions proceed according to this logic will be an axiom. It begins therefore with a self-evident proposition. ÷ ÷ ÷ Maturity and Discernment VOLUME 27, 1968 585 D. T. As~elin, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 586 Logic o[ the Concret~ .There is another logic, however, the Jogic of con-crete, unique, and individual events and persons (which, inCidentally, is the w, ay God apprehends things). Here, . the human foundation or first principle will no longer be an axiom but an experience. As the logic of conceptual knowledge is based on axiomatic, propositions, so the logic of concrete knowledge is based on concrete ex-perience. Mature faith-response to the Lord's word can emerge only from personal encounter with Him. I think it is the job of superiors and spiritual directors to point to those authentic experiences whereby the Lord is communicating Himself to individuals and communi-ties, thus guiding their spiritual growth and governing their development as Christian persons. This concret~ knowledge of the Lord and of His ways. can only be had, as the Vatican Council proposes, "by meditation on the word of God." Faith-growth is inseparable from prayer-life. Both are areas of fundamental concern to all who are called not only by the Lord's, "Lovest thou me?" but also by His, "Feed my lambs and sheep." What, therefore, the individual as such ought to de-cide in the area of liberty and private responsibility cannot be fully determined by general principle or law. It is of vital importance, however, that what is decided be determined with spiritual certitude, not merely by guesswork, accident, or whim. This is precisely why reliable, that is, mature, faith-discernment of interior experiences and, events is important. Otherwise, we run a risk of considering these experiences as mere psycho-logical phenomena, avoiding the whole world of con-crete events in function of which spiritual discernment and maturity can take place. Rather, we must approach the world of private and group e~perience as filled with the glorious presence (shekinah) of the Lord, the indications of His will and concrete providence, and perhaps .the presence of an adverse spirit. Hence, it is only a faith-awareness and dis-cernment of these events which can lead to an under-standing of the individual or community relationship to the Lord, an estimation of their spiritual maturity, and a reliable ifi~rease in their personal freedom and re- + sponsibility. + No concrete choice can be well ordered in the faith + unless it coincides with the determination~ of the Lord 'of all human history. To be aware of these things in the concrete is the only way for a man to be "with it" spir-itually, or "where the action is." To be with the Lord of history, who revealed Himself as being so continually and intimately with us, we must be in personal corn- munication with Him in all things. Therefore, the particular experience that functions as a self-evident first principle for the logic of concrete individual knowl-edge is nothing short of a real experience of the Lord communicating Himself and uttering His invitation and call directly to a pers9n for his u.nique situation, Growth in discernment presupposes several elements. There must be, first of all, inner experience; second,. repeated reflection, on this experience; third, a dis-crimination between various experiences, not from the pbint of view of mere natural causalities (psychological or otherwise), but from that of personal faith in the Lord of concrete history; fourth, an evaluation of these interior experiences from this faith-standpoint; finally, the ca-pacity to receive and obey those movements which are discernibly from the Lord, or.at least clearly not inspired by an adverse spirit. This is the only way to be with the Lord, and where His action is, in reality. Only thus can a man truly grow as a mature person and find. fulfillment. He must find his own personal relationship with the Creator and Lord of all things, and place himself at His service unre-servedly. Experience, then, of encounter and contact with .the Lord, of listening to and of being guided by Him di-rectly, must lie within the capacities of ordinary Chris-tian faith-maturity. Otherwise, how could an adult Chris-tian enjoy an authentic spiritual calling? The only way a man can be divinely called to a personal vocation is "bY name," which means by a unique and personal en-counter with tbe Lord in terms of incommunicable inner experience. Surely our adult Christians, in the light of Vatican II, are not merely destined to serve the Lord, but intimately to know the Lord they serve. Surely their service must flow from a personal.knowledge of Him, a concrete knowledge which cannot be grasped from the-ology or from psychology or even from the mere absence of "impediments to vocation," but from personal ex-perience and prayer. There is question here of something mystical, at least on an elementary level, in the ordinary faith-growth of a Christian--something entailing immediate conscious con-tact with the person of the Lord. Hence, we confront today a mysticism that is to be recognized and fostered within the ordinary providence of God's grace for anyone called to know Him. This kind of knowledge is what specifies the relationship between. God and His people, God and the individual, in the whole Judaeo-Christian history of vocation. I submit that today the discernmentof spirits, as it is called, is the most relevant focal, point in our spiritual ÷ Maturity and Discernment VOLUME 27, 1968 587 ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS heritage, because it is the concrete., logic of personal spiritual knowledge of las cosas internas, the "interior things," the life of inner spiritual experience. Only a refined spiritual discernment will guide a man to mature self-possession, freeing him from inner disorder in his choosing so that he may enjoy a growing, divine en-counter of faith in all circumstances. In this way, his faith-awareness will envelop, enlighten, guide everything else in his life, so that he will not be able to love any-thing ~r anyone save "in the Lord." It is only within this world of each man's personal experience that his faith-response can be given to the evocative word of the Lord. " Today.in this age of personalism, of self-discovery, of fulfillment, of communication and dialogue, there is a dyifig interest, in any gospel that might limit itself to spiriyual absolutes and generalities, to moralism or trite devotionalism, just as there is a reaction against the spiritual anonymity of the" "lonely crowd" and. the impersonality of the "organization man" in our "secular city.:' Such-labels indicate' the personal alienation that threatens urbanized man today. We all know the reac-tion formation which arises against this situation, offering a purely secular salvation in terms of this-worldly ful-fillment of man's four basic desires: his desire for security, affection, variety, and esteem. Man's real salvation today, however, according to our Christian world-view based on the 'new covenant announced in Jeremiah 31, 31 ft., entails being radicallygraced by God in such a way that the divine presence and will can be known and hcknowl- ' edged personally by each man. Confronted exclusively with general principles and laws, or the enunciation of general truths based upon them which do not focus on each man as a unique per-son but necessarily treat him merely as another instance of numerically multipliable human nature undistin-guished by any name, modern man will remain deaf to ¯ his true personal call to greatness, spiritually immature. If the Christian logic of concrete personal vocation is ignored today, there is a growing danger that tomorrow both Peter and Paul will search for their identity out, side the authentic Christian view of things., perhaps against it. It is only through the gradual and inevitably painful education of a man's faith-view of concrete particulars, that is, the education of his capacity spiritually to dis-cern concrete reality within himself or others, that he can be entrusted with the responsibility of personally determining the steps and measures which bear on his own salvation or that of others. ~ We are far from endorsing, therefore, an undiscerning confidence and blind acceptance of everything that a man spontaneously is inclined to think best. According to the view of some, everything is acceptable or good which inwardly attracts or moves a man, as long as it is not a clear inclination to sin. As a matter of fact, if it were all that easy it would hardly be worth discussing. Spiritual responsibility is insured only by an authentic growth of the capacity to discern the personal word and will of Christ for onself or for another. This merely re-affirms the central Christian position which is one of lis-tening to and following the word of God addressed to man: "Blessed is hewho hears the word of God and keeps it"; or again: "My mother and brothers and sisters are those who hear the word of God and keep it." To some degree or other all of us have this problem of faith-maturity. Therefore, we must consider maturity not as a terminal achievement but rather as maturation, a continuum of emerging awareness of interior en-counter and personal vocation initiated by the Lord. All this applies to community experience as well as to that of the individual, and it includes in its ambit the beginner as well as the teleios in the sense of Hebrews 5:14, "the one who has faculties trained by experience to discern good from evil." This points to faith-guided discernment as the cor-rection of Adam's fault who attempted, :according to Genesis 3, on his own and independently of the Lord's personal indication, to "eht of the fruit of the tree of. the knowledge of good and evil," that is, to discern for himself independently of God what was good and evil in the concrete. Hence any education in the discernment of right from wrong must emerge from the radical faith-position of one who is a listener to the Lord: "All that is not of faith is sin" (Rom 14:23). Structure and Individuation We are always confronted with the necessity of ad-mitting the young into formation structures in such a way as to allow for varying degrees of spiritual maturity already achieved and to foster further personal growth in the knowledge of God's will and love by discernment. Moreover, at the beginning of the process of formation there are two factors polarized, which, I feel, need to undergo considerable change in their basic relationship .by the end of that formative process. We can label those two factors "structure" and "in-dividuation." Structure, here, means a generally pre-dictable behavior pattern within which the individual and the group are directed to maturity in their en-counter with the Lord. For beginners there is need of a ÷ ÷ ÷ Maturity and Discernment. ,~.~ VOLUME 27~ 1968" 589 ÷ ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~90 meaningful and reasonable overall structure in which the young candidates are .introduced to spiritual re-sponsibility. This structure will be more extensive and more detailed in virtue of the greater need for assistance and protection required in the period of initial growth. By individuation, in the context of formation, I mean everything that falls under the general heading of per-sonal admonition, directive, prescription, correction, or guidance. It is my general i~npression that we have not been afflicted so'much with overstructure in formation (we have had much structure but I think much is needed to ¯ .begin the process of faith-growth) as with a kind of rev-erence for this structure which tends to find maturity in terms of structural function and hence to preserve initial structures unchanged throughout religious life. ¯ I also believe we have been afflicted with an anxious protection and maintenance of this structure by over-stricture, so that the individual has been given to feel that the structure is an absolute value and that his least exterior failure or fault will be judged as maximal when, in fact, it might be objectively and spiritually minimal. A process of destructuring must occur. But, more im-portantly, we ought to begin formation with complete gentleness, patience, and the allowance for personal uniqueness, in the application of strictures within the required structure. With structure and individuation polarized in this way at the point of departure of formation, let me. degcribe the general evolution .which hopefully might occur with respect to the relationship between structure and individuation over the years, By its end a period of formation ought to reveal much less structure (because we' can presume that with discernment the spiritual adult has become more personally aware of his Lord and has achieved a more refined sensitivity to the promptings of the Holy Spirit) and much more stricture (because he has grown in spiritual sensitivity, in his capacity for self-direction, for discerning the Lord in all things by faith and love, and is consequently more accountable, that is, responsible, for these things). No community ought to aim at being completely un-structured or informal as long as men are mortal and original sin still, affects their motivation, decisions, and efforts. But I believe much failure in formation is due to the initial overemphasis of both stricture and struc-ture, producing a reaction against¯ both. We often end up with serious:difficulties not so much with the young as the old and religiously "formed," who, when it is safe to throw off structures, will no longer listen to stric-ture either. This, of course, reveals that their formation left them spiritually immature. How difficult it is at times to tell a man who has been~ twenty-five years in religious life what to do or not to do. It is not easy, if he is obstinate. It is not easy if he feels: "Now that I have gone through that formation bit, you don't push me around." I think a lot of our scandal emerges precisely when the process of destructuring takes place reveali.ng little faith-education or spiritual maturity to fill up the vac-uum created by ~his process. It shows that no growth in spiritual responsibility has.supplanted the firmness of protective structures. By the end of our periods of formation, when the col-lective factors have been diminished on the level of structure, there ought to emerge a deeper spiritual rela-tionship with the superior, confessor, personal director, on the individual level, that is, on the level of concrete prescription, spiritual direction, and discernment. I feel that little faults in mature persons are much more serf-otis than little faults in beginners. Perhaps we ought to increase the importance of private direction for the ma-ture, not only in the sense of reprehension and correction of faults, but also of more tailored discernment of the will of the Lord. Existentially, this continuum of for-mation ought to be a movement, from external law to the interior law of love. , St. Paul had insight int~ such freedom. He claims that we are freed by learning to love like Christ. He does not mean by freedom that we are no longer bound by ex-ternal law, but rather that we are no longer driven, cap-tured, or urged by anything except by divine love: "Caritas Christi urget nos." To the degree that mature Christian love existentially directs a man's choices, his need for external law and direction is lessened. Only.by the "strength of the Lord's personal initiati~ces of love in his regar~l wi!l he be stimulated to respond to the Lord's word calling him to share responsibility for his own salvation and that of others. This call in its fullness is identical with the vocation to enter the paschal mystery of the Lord's suffering service, death, and resurrection. Hence, we can say with Vatican II that it is "only by faith and by meditation on the word of God" that we can find God's will in anything, discover Christ in our fellow man, or evaluate temporal things in their true light, that is, in the light of salvation history into which all things have happily been assumed by the risen Lord. There is no possibility of mature faith-growth unless, between the beginning and the end of its spectrum, there is inserted personal, incommunicable experience of en-trance into the mystery of Christ's dying and rising. The problem today is a growing tendency to skip the + + + Maturity and Discernment" VOLUME 27, '1968 591 ÷ ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 592 passion and death in an attempt to establish the Resur-rection. We need more than ever a spiritual awareness of the contemporary dimensions of the passion and death, such as you find in St. Paul who identifies the mystery of Christ's nekrosis with his own experiences of suffering, persecution, and rejection in the apostolate and. ministry . of the word. The word "mystery" in this context means a human experience of the Word made flesh such as we imply when we speak of the "mysteries" of the rosary Or when we contemplate the "mysteries of the public life of Jesus." The definitive mystery of the Word made ttesh is His redemptive experience of dying and rising, which is the matrix of all Christian formation and maturity. Growth and formation involve the development of a conscious love relationship with the Lord. Lovers are those who share intimately each other's experiences of joy and suffering and know by experience the depth and the breadth and the mystery of the unique other. The Lord has this kind of knowledge of us--a knowledge which can become the friendship of .mutual love only if we dwell also in this kind of knowledge of Him. Therefore, our entrance into His mystery of passion and death implies, in the first place, a growth in our aware-ness of His complete entrance into our mystery, His complete appropriation of our personhood and life ex-perience. Neither this awareness nor the experience of entry into His mystery are vague abstractions. His definitive entrance into our present life was by a very real dying and rising. It is this experience of His that has become the key to our faith-awareness of Him. Thus, His suffer-ing, dying, rising, unfold anew in our life experience because of our intimate, mutual involvement with Him, revealed by faith. Conclusion The real spiritual theology of action, of renewal, and of labor (including the labors of the apostolate and min, istry of the word), centers on this contemporary sharing in Christ's redemptive death and resurrection. You will find this everywhere in St. Paul, for instance in I Corin-thians 1:3 ft. and 4:7 ff: "The sufferings of Christ abound in us, the consolation in you"; or again: "We are con-tinually carrying about in our bodies the dying state of Jesus so that the living state of Jesus may be manifest in our bodies too." So, too, Paul speaks of the personal mandate through Christian baptism of entering into the mystery of Christ's death and resurrection, which implies finding the dimensions of His mystery as it is realized concretely in one's own. This Will involve a personal sharing of the emptying-out or kenosis of Christ, an experience of hu-man b~irrenness, agony, and dereliction out of which alone can emerge the marvelous truthfulness of the Lord rising in our personal world, today. I do not think this is going to be appreciated if it is merely described, as I do here. It is something that must be learned from experience under the guidance of that kind of spiritual discernment that calls a thing by its right name, as it is occurring in a man's experience. No natural terms or categories are sufficient, to capture the meaning of this experience of.entry into the mystery of Christ that is ours. Hence, the language of faith is the principal language to be used in spiritual direction and discernment. Nobody can accomplish for me this work of collabora-tion with Christ to which I am personally called. With-out personal inner encounter I have knowledge only of a kind of "unknown God," which really is no knowl-edge at all; and the danger of not knowing God is of be-coming adokimos, someone of an undiscerning mind, who knows created reality by experience without dis-cerning the Lord and Creator. This was the failure of the pagans according to Romans 1:18 ft., where Paul degcribes their decline through various stages of degrada-tion because they were unable to discern the will and love of the Lord of all creation. The human conversation with God was broken off in the garden of Eden, not because God stopped speaking to man but because man stopped listening to God. All sacred history recounts the restoration not only in the individual but in the city of man of the ability to listen to the word olz God articulated in the contemporary events and realities of each successive age, as in a con-tinuing kaleidoscope of the Lord's presence articulated in the eternal '~today" of man's relationship to his Lord. The builders of the tower of Babel were dispersed by God because they attempted to build the city on their own, without His initiative, His word. Abraham, in the next chapter, is the one in whom the listening to God's word historically begins to be restored. Eventually, the city image of Babel in Chapter 11 of Genesis, the city which is almost a bad word in theearly parts of Scrip-ture, becomes the very end-time symbol of the awareness of God's intimate presence and conversation in Apoc-alypse 21, where the new city created by God, the new Jerusalem, needs neither temple nor source of light other than God Himself and his Son the Lamb. Eventually, the Lord who is Father and the Lamb will themselves be both temple-of worship and source of light for the city of man. This symbol marks the terminal point of + + + Maturity and Discernment VOLUME "27, 1968 593 + ÷ ÷ D. T.'Asselin, REVIE~FOR RELIGIOUS community salvation. If you read Apocalypse 21, you will find that the individual relationship to the Lord emerges as perfect along with the destructured com-munity relationship to the Lord: "He who overcomes shall possess these things, and I will be his God, and he shall be my son" (Ap 21:7). There is no opposition, then, between the community-growth and individual fulfillment. We reach full person-hood in the community of the Lord's people by sharing an awareness of God's personal presence and glory. We celebrate this in our daily Eucharist. We announce these Christian facts of life and we promote them, there. We increase and grow in our realization of them by listening privately and together to the word of God, and together and in private responding wholeheartedly. In conclusion I should like to indicate a fundamental criterion by which the authenticity of faith-growth and spiritual discernment must. always be measured. The fundamental attitude of the believer is of one who lis-tens. It is to the Lord's utterances that he gives ear. In as many different ways and on as many varied levels as the listener can discern the word and will of the Lord mani-fested to ,him, he must respond with all the Pauline "obedience of faith." Obedience always implies an attitude of listening, signified by the Latin ob-audire and Greek hupo-akouo. It is the attitude of receptivity, passivity, and poverty of one who is always in need, radically dependent, con-scious of his creaturehood. Freedom, faith-growth, and spiritual maturity must always begin with fundamental obedience to the Lord's laws, directives, and providence for the individual and the community. The evolution of faith to spiritual adulthood is measured not by neglecting or escaping these basic divine dispositions so as to be no longer bound by them, but rather by transcending external laws and prescriptions so as to be bonnd more deeply and intimately by the greater demands of an internal law uttered in the heart. One is always bound by general law and principle and by external authority legitimately exercised, but one can transcend this dimension as the motive of response to the Lord to the degree that one can discern and obey the internal law of love imprinted in the heart by the Spirit, establishing the new covenant announced by Jeremiah 31:31 ft. Bound by external law and authority, our faith-growth consists in being moved by the internal: "Caritas Christi urget nosl" No internal discernment of the Lord's will and vocation is valid if it disobeys or degtroys the Lord's external dispositions exercised by legitimate auo thority and institution. There is only one Spirit breath-ing on many levels where and how He wills. The authentic maturity of faith by spiritual discern-anent will manifest itself in a fourfold reconciliation of man, matching the fourfold human conflict introduced by man's primitive disobedience: a reconciliation (1) with the Lord in a Spirit of prayerful sonship crying "Abba," (2) within oneself by the peace that replaces the shame of guilt, (3) with one's neighbor by the love that replaces anger and fear, (4) and with ktisis or physical creation by a resurrection. ÷ ÷ ÷ Maturity and Discernment VOLUME 27, 1968 ". . 595 BERNARD LEE, S~M. The Spring Wants to Come: A Study in Community ÷ ÷ ÷ Bernard Lee, S.M., is on the fac-ulty of St. Mary's High School; 4701 South Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Mis-souri 6311 I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 596 Introduction I had originally intended to cast these introductory remarks into footnotes in very brief form. But a discus-sion and very helpful critique with members of my communi.ty suggested the importance of beginning with two observations that appear necessary for keeping the discussion in the" right context. The first point is this: what the article is not is a comparison between art and community life in which certain aesthetic principles are analogically applied to community. Beauty is a transcendental, and it is a real characteristic-of all that is. There are degrees of beauty and kinds of beauty. It can be recognized and experi-enced. Like many of the practical items we use and need, community is a practical response to a need: psychologi-cal needs stemming from our social nature, pragmatic needs for coping with the world around us. But over and above this, both the practical items and the practical community are capable of being works of art, pieces of beauty, as well. The application of asesthetic principles to community life is, therefore, a direct application of principles that are, in the philosophical sense, proper to it. This second introductory remark might seem a bit academic for the discussion that follows. But it has to do with basic presuppositions that govern the thought of the article. The characterization of beauty that I use is based very much upon the thgught of Alfred North Whitehead, the whole of his thought, but in particular his treatment of beauty in Adventure of Ideas. What is presumed is a world of reality whose nature is to be in process. Process is at the heart of the way things are. Process is reality. And an important qualifidation of this process is that it is evolutionary; it is directed to the creation of higher: forms and modes of existence. In Aristotelian thought the possibility of changing neces-sarily implies imperfection: "All change is by its nature an undoing" (Physics, IV, 222b). But in process philos-ophy, change is actually constitutive of reality. Becoming is no longer inferior to being. This obviously affects a philosophy of beauty--and therefore a philosophy of community--because process will be constitutive of beauty as well as of being. This is not the place to attempt a further characteri-zation of process philosophy. May I instead retommend the brief but superb introduction Charles Hartshorne wrote for Browning's Philosophers of Process, and the excellent second part of Eulalio Baltazar's Teilhard and the Supernatural which treats in more detail "The Phi-losophy of Process." The implications of all ttiis for theology and spirituality are immense--so immense that it almost seems ludicrous to toss off the observation so casually. I would like to conclude these introductory re-marks with some lines from Rilke: What keeps you from projecting His birth into times That are in the process of becoming, And living your life Like a painful and beautiful day In the history of a great gestation? For do you not see How everything that happens Keeps on being a beginning Since beginning is in itself Always so beautiful?. These very days Of your transition Are perhaps the time When everything in you Is working at him. And think that the least We can do is to make His becoming Not more difficult for Him Than theearth ¯ Makes its for the Spring When it wants to come. --Rainer Maria Rilke Community The history of humanity is the history of an evolution towards a more finely wrought community. The evolu-tion is not unmarked by failures, neither in the past nor now. But progress has been steady. And higher com-munity has normally been achieved when the demands 4, 4, ÷ Community VOLUME 27, 597 ÷ ÷ Bernar~ I=~ $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 598 of new social conditions have been responded to crea-tively. Today is a day of new demands, and we are on the verge of higher community if we can bring to those demands an adequately creative response. The movement towards the perfection of community has always been a part of human history, but a new inner urgency is communicated to the movement in Christ who calls men to brotherhood in God's love: "This solidarity must be constantly increased until that day on which it will be brought to perfection. Then, saved by grace, men will offer flawless glory to God as a family beloved of God and of Christ their brother" (gaudium et spes, § 32). In this discussion we would like to deal with the dynamics of building community. And here dynamics must bear the full weight of its meaning; for the evolutionary nature of community among men neces-sarily implies movement and change, trial and error, mutual tensions and continual interactions. The para-dox is that these factors are not manifestations of rest-lessness and caprice, but are the only basis for in-tensified solidarity. There are many valid points of departure for a dis-cussion of community. Our point of departure Will be aesthetic. It is peculiar to man, of all earth's creatures, to recognize beauty, to be moved and exhilarated by it. Because the quest for beauty and the response to it are both deeply human and deeply humanizing, we ought to be conscious of the beauty of community life that we work towards. We must even make that beauty a conscious aim--for it goes way beyond simply making community through the common task of meeting practi-cal exigencies; it calls us to create community. Throughout this discussion we will be thinking es-pecially of "community" in religious life. But the prin-ciples should be valid and operative within any social structure. The plan of this discussion is as follows. We will first talk about beauty and the degrees of harmony that mark it (and also that mark community life). Then we will try to show how greater intensity is possible in beauty (and how this is related to the perfection of community life). Then, from the psychological point of view of man's enjoyment of beauty, we will discuss the "move-ment" that is demanded by human appreciation of beauty (and the "movement" that is demanded for a constant human satisfaction with community life). I can recall having been asked for a reaction to some piece of architecture or other, and having replied that while I didn't really think it was great, it was at least pleasing and didn't jar. That something "isn't jarring" is an acknowledgement of at least a minor form of beauty, an absence of elements that would disturb the harmony. There are many elements in an art work (color in painting, rhythm, tone, and harmony in music) that might be independently quite pleasing, but which to-gether in certain combinations inhibit beauty. It is pos-sible to juxtapose two brilliant colors so that when they are together the b,rillance of neither comes through fully, though alone each would be striking. In this case there is a mutual inhibition that keeps either color from rising to the strength proper to it. It is likewise possible in music to counter two rhythms ~o each other in suchwise that neither is discernible; of course, a counterplay of two rhythms might well put each of the rhythms in bolder relief and make them easier to ap-preciate. In the first case, the mutual incompatibility of two rhythms is not only inhibitive of beauty, the two elements are actually destructive of each other. A minor form of beauty, oi: pleasingness, then, consists in the absence of elements that are either destructive of one another, or that keep each other from rising to the strength proper to each. This same aesthetique applies to community. When the fact of community is the result of the juxtaposition. of certain individuals within the same house, and not much more than that, the minor form of beauty just described.is probably the limit of communitarianbeauty available. There is a certain smoothness and harmony that results from not having personalities that are to-tally incompatible, and from having personalities that are enough alike (or have been made so by the repres-sion of differences) that they do not inhibit each other member from "being himself." The walls of a living room may be painted a 'very pleasing color and may provide quite a satis[actory experience. But if the walls are done in several colors, and if furnishings are chosen which blend and con-trast, much attention has to be given to composition. Two colors which cannot be tolerated next to each other might, in composition with a third and fourth color, give a heightened aesthetic experience not possible with the minor beauty of the one-color room. For this height-ened aesthetic experience derived from a contrast of contents, composition becomes increasingly important. For each element must stand in relation to every other element as well as to the whole. This is the only con-dition under which different elements can, by virtue of their very differences, not simply coexist juxtaposed, but become a truly powerful experience together. And there is a corollary to this. Not only does the individual element help heighten the aesthetic value of the compo- + + ÷ Community VOLUME 27, ~.968 ,599 + 4. 4. Bernard Lee, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS sition as a whole, but the whole itself ~s a setting for the individual element enhances the individual element. The whole uses and profits from that which is most unique in the individual element. It is what is different about this individual element that heightens the effect" of good composition. But that difference only becomes valuable and desirable in this setting of effective con-trast. Alone it is. well, just different. Again, ~his aesthefique applies to community living. A more intense community experience is possible through effective contrasts of personalities. This can only be a reality if ther6 is a community consciousness directed toward the creation of such a "composition." A minor form of beauty attained simply through the absence of jarring elements does not put upon "relationship" the premium it has in the heightened aesthetic experience towards which we work. "Relationship" is the basis of composition, and it requires conscious and deliberate effort to bring it off. By conscious effort we cannot mean a belabored preoccupation with improving or building interpersonal bonds--that is almost doomed to failure by the artificiality that would destroy what can only be fully natural, or else not be at all. But it does mean being quite conscious of the fact that differ-ences between us are the seed of greater community beauty. It does mean consciously and openly and hon-estly dealing with differences rather than shu~ing them under the carpet in favor of a minor and easier harmony. It is from the very desirable (and often painful) per-sonal confrontations in view of differences that such consciousness occasions interpersonal relationships really happening, and "composition" really occurring. And be-cause we are human beings, something happens in the composition of good community that does not happen in the'composition of good art: we individual elements have to stretch ourselves intellectually, socially, emo-tionally, psychologically, to contain the contrasts of our community. But what grow.th! And growing pains too. Only a community like this can address itself to the yearning of the contemporary man who wants to be where the personal identity he has worked so hard foI is 'appreciated and desired. He wants to be part of a community that challenges him to become and, in be-coming, to be his unique self. Only an aesthetique of striving for great communitarian beauty can provide for a whole that frames rather than swallows individuality. A beautiful nature scene which is exciting on a 16mm screen might well be overwhelming on the Cinerama screen. This introduces a new consideration into our discussion of beauty. There is something about the hu-man spirit, perhaps allied to the appetite for tran- scendence, that makes it reach out for what is grand. "A man's reach must exceed his grasp, else what's a heaven for?" Traditionally, being big-souled is being virtuous: magnanimity. In our aesthetic satisfaction there is a certain proper kind of intensity just in comparative magnitude. Nor is this to devalue the beauty of small delicate things--there are beautiful things that would suffer violence in enlargement. Yet it does remain true that sheer magnitude awakens the human spirit and issues a call to it to be likewise grand. This is as true of the aesthetic exlSerience as of other realms of our. ex-perience. Let us again apply our aesthetique to community life. Perhaps we should begin with the acknowledgement that there is a kind of intensity in the relationship between two friends that cannot be enlarged to a whole com-munity- this would be a naive aim. Yet on the other hand, there is a magnificence in the spirited unity of a large community that is an inspiration to behold, and that is an even greater inspiration to be part of. There is a strength and a power in such a unity. Of course, in speakirig of comparative magnitude as adding strength to beauty, we mean not sheer size alone, but one that is marked by the aesthetic qualities we dis-cussed already. The final point in our discussion of the qualities of aesthetic perfection has to do with variety of detail. Variety of detail can be worked at in many ways. The baroque and rococo are not our ways. But variety is im-portant even in an age that wants its architecture to have a naked beauty often drawn from nothing more or less than the unadorned structural elements. Variety of detail, then, is not extravagance. It is variation and contrast that, from a negative point of v.iew, prevents monotony and boredom; and, from a positive point of view, adds interest and excitement. This aesthetic qual-ity is somewhat akin to the previous one we spoke of. There is a grandeur in variety of detail. Mere variety is not the point; the variety must be well composed so that the contrast is effective. But all else being equal, variety of detail does add an aesthetic perfection. And, of course, variety exacts a keener attention to insure such an ef-fective composition. It doesn't just happen. Effective unity does not just happen in a community marked by a great variety of temperaments and per-sonalities. It can only be brought about by careful and patient care. Again, that must be conscious effort. It cannot happen unless a community has decided that it wills to work for a greater degree of communitarian beauty and then has begun the communitarian creativity which alone can bring it off. + ÷ ÷ Community ¯ VOLUME 27, 1968 601 Bernard Lee, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 602 At this point something should be said about discord and disharmony, about their positive worth and de-sirability, or rather, about the circumstances in which they are desirable. Effective contrast of different elements makes possible a higher form of beauty. It is discord which makes known the fact that different elements are present which have not been unified in effective contrast. It is dis-cord, then, that points a finger to the spot where at-tention is needed, where effective relating is needed, to incorporate these different elements into a community which will be richer for having taken them unto its own. Even if the minor forms of communitarian beauty have been attained quite well, it is probably humanly im-possible to move to a higher form based on effective contrast without experiencing discord. The discord must be expected. It must be welcomed as the herald of something better to come if it can be dealt with openly and sincerely. And it must not linger to haunt the new unity when it is born. In music the transition from a single tone into a harmony might well--and often does--pass through an intermedi~i(e disharmony. That disharmony often serves to heighten the experience of a ricli harmony which it (even in its split second existence) teased us into yearn-ing for. The application to many of the disharmonies of community life is obvious enough to need no com-mentary. Thus far we have discussed, from a somewhat philo-sophical point of view, the qualities of what is beauti-ful, the qualities which occasion the aesthetic experience for the human spirit. We would like to turn now to the human spirit~ and from that point of view discuss one further factor of prime i.importance in'our experience of beauty. So let us speak of the human spirit. There is a certain restlessness that makes it tire'of repetition. Even if it ha~ accommodated itself to the ease of repetition, it is un-likely that much of the deeper yearning of the human spirit can thus be satisfied. It can at best be anaesthe-tized. Clumsily but accurately rendered, the word "an-aesthetized" means unbeautied, deadened to the aes-thetic. Even beauty can anaesthetize when it is endlessly repeated in the same form. "Perfection will not bear the tedium of indefinite repetition" (Whitehead). To sus-tain the ardor of aesthetic enjoyment requires a con-stant' search for new perfection. Sometimes the new perfection need not even be a higher one, only an equal perfection. The new experience keeps the spirit aes-thetically intent, alive, and active. Change for the sake of change is capricious. But change, even when the practical situation does not de-mand it, even when the new thing is not an improve-ment, may still be quite desirable if it can sustain the intensity of our aesthetic experience of communitarian beauty. We must emphasize again that conscious recog-nition of striving for communitarian beauty as it has been described is a necessary context for welcoming change and movement and variation. Outside of this context, the change that is not pragmatically necessary is indeed obnoxious. If a com.munity has opted to strive for higher forms o[ beauty in its life together, the element of change needs attention; but to some extent it will take care of itself. The texture of a community changes with every personnel change. The addition or subtraction 6f even one member is bound to affect the quality of a com-munity that has determined its "composition" in view of each unique individual member, ff one member o~ a community has grown and been enriched through per-sonal, experience, the community grows too and accom-modates itself to the new experience within it. In this way each community should have a personality of its own, a beauty of its own that is particular to this com-munity because it is composed of these unique, indi-vidual persons. To the extent that communities have not achieved a beauty characteristic of each, one com-munity will look quite the same as any other. And per-haps we should be reminded here by Bishop Robinson that God is as much in the rapids as in the rocks. Nor is all of this discussion without import for that celebration of community which is the Eucharist. We h~ve probably all reflected how daily repetition of Mass ~can weaken the quality of our experience of it. I think we salve the situation too unctuously by countering that the eye of faith sees behind any possible tedium in the daily repetition. Mass is not simply the presence of God through the signs of bread and wine; the full symbol is the community that is gathered there to further in-tensify its unity in the breaking of one bread and the sharing of a Common cup. Because each community is-- or should be--unique, it must vitalize its celebration of the Eucharist by finding ways of expressing its unique-ness (and thus its beauty) in Mass, for this is how the community offers to God what is most beautiful to Him. The dynamic interaction of individuals in community is constantly modifying the texture of community, be it ever so little. There is, then, the challenge always to find new ways of offering God the new beauties that come to be in our midst, the new Beauties that ARE our Midst. ÷ ÷ ÷ ~,ommunity VOLUME 27, 1968 603 JOHN COWBURN, S.J. The Analogy of Religious Authority and Obedience ÷ ÷ ÷ John Cowburn, s.J., is a faculty member at Loyola College; Watsonia, Victoria S087; Aus-tralia. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS In discussions of authority it is sometimes assumed, I think, that the authority of a father over his children is the first experienced and universally understood form of authority, and that all other forms of authority are ultimately analogous to it. On the basis of these as-sumptions, then, other forms of authority are explained by comparing them with this primordial form: God's authority over us is explained as being that of a father; the pope is called the Holy Father, bishops are told to be like fathers to their priests and people, pastors like fathers to their parishioners, and religious superiors like fathers and mothers to their subjects; and secular rulers, too, are thought to be like fathers to their subjects. On the other hand, it has been maintained that every form of authority is completely sui generis, so that argu-ments a pari from one form to another are never valid; or that, whatever may be said about secular forms of authority, at any rate the kinds of authority found in the Church are not analogous to natural forms, so that it is not really enlightening to compare them with these. Since, however, theology continually presupposes that analogy is possible and that one can argue by means of it, and since the. gospel has always been preached with the aid of analogies, it is surely reasonable to suppose that analogy can be used in discussions of authority. And if this is agreed on, perhap~ it can also be agreed that the family is the fundamental human society, that all forms of authority are ultimately analogous to forms of au-, thority found in the family, and that reflection on au-thority and obedience as they are exercised there can be helpful for an understanding of the nature of religious authority (not to mention other forms) and of the way in which it ought to be exercised. What I wish to question, however, is that this means that all authority, including that of the religious superior, is analogous to that of a father over his children--but I anticipate. Authority in the Family A family, surely, should not be seen simply as a group of people one of whom has authority over all the others. Rather, it should' be seen as constituted by two different relationships, or kinds of relationship: there is the re-lationship which binds the husband and wife to each other, and there are the relationships which bind the parents to the children and the children to the parents. Both these relationships involve authority on one side, and the.~recognition of that authority, or obedience, on the other: a husband is the head of the couple formed by his wife and himself, and she promises to love, honor and obey him; and of course parents have authority over their children, who owe them obedience. However, I suggest that we find here two distinct kinds of au-thority and obedience, and that reflection quickly shows that there are radical differences between them.1 Firstly, children do not choose to enter a family and they do not choose their parents, but a woman chooses. to marry and to become the wife of this man rather than of any other. The authority of parents over their chil-dren, then, is not given to them by the children, whereas a husband obtains authority over his wife when she freely gives it to him. The facts, that a woman cannot marry a man without giving him authority over her and that the authority once given may not arbitrarily be taken back do not affect the contention that one of the relationships is constituted by the free consent of both parties and the other is not. Secondly, one relationship is essentially between two adults, whereas the other is essentially between adults and children. If this were not obvious already, it could be shown by stating that a woman cannot marry until she is capable of making freely an important decision that will affect her whole life, that is, until she is no longer a child. Thirdly, in a normal family the parents are superior to their children in knowledge, understanding, wisdom, ¯ common sense, fortitude, and almost every other respect, and the lack of these qualities in children is the reason why they are subject to their parents in the way they are. In a normal family, however, the husband and wife are much more nearly equal in human qualities than par-x I have made this contention in The Person and Love (New York: Alba House, 1968), p. 157. (The English edition, published in London by Geoffrey Chapman, is called Love and the Person.) + + + Authority and Obedience VOLUME 27, 1968 605 ÷ ÷ 1ohn Cowburn, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 60g ents and children are; indeed, if there is very great in-equality a true marriage is virtually impossible. And if in a normal family the husband is usually somewhat older than his wife and in some respects superior to her, this is not the reason why he has authority over her, as is shown by the wives who are actually superior to their husbands in intelligence and other human qualities and who nevertheless give them obedience. That is, if one asks in general why children are always under someone's dominion the answer is that they are incapable of being left in charge of themselves. If, however, one asks why most women are under the dominion of husbands, the answer is not that. It is, one supposes, that for the unity of a couple it is necessary that one partner be the leader and that the other--who, if she were living alone, would be quite capable of looking after herself--accept his leadership. Fourthly, the authority of parents over their children is transient, whereas that of husband over wife is perma-nent. The authority of parents over their children is greatest when the children are small; as they grow up it lessens; eventually, it ceases--for although adults respect their parents they do not strictly speaking owe them obedience. In contrast to this, the authority of husband over wife is constant and permanent. Fifthly, it would be abnormal for a grown person to obey his parents just as he did when he was a child; and to train anyone to obey in this way all his life would be to prevent him from achieving maturity. But it is per-fectly normal for a mature woman to recognize her husband's authority--indeed, to be unwilling to accept or acknowledge this kind of authority would, generally speaking, be a sign of immaturity--and a married woman achieves maturity and fulfillment partly by schooling herself to give recognition and willing obedi-ence to her husband. Sixthly, in both cases the exercise of authority and the obedience are expressions of love: a man gives himself to his wife partly by assuming responsibili.ty for her welfare, with the authority that that responsibility car-ries with it, and she gives herself to him in accepting him as head; and parents express their love for their children by not letting them run wild but authoritatively con-trolling their development, while children show their loving acceptance of their parents by obeying them. However, conjugal love and parental-filial love are surely different in kind; and so the authority and obedi-ence in which they are expressed are also different in kind. We come, th(n, to this conclusion: in a family there are two radically.different kinds of authority and obedio ence. In previous ages, I suppose, people would have disagreed with this by maintaining that the authority of husband over wife is not essentially different from that of father over children. When fathers retained their authority over their daughters .not until these were twenty-one but until they were married; and when fathers chose husbands for their daughters and then led the girls to the altar where they handed them over to the bridegrooms; then it seemed to everyone that it was from her father that a man obtained his authority over his wife, and so it was supposed that his authority was essentially of the same kind as that which the father had had, and men supposed that their wives and children were all subject to their authority in much the same way. Today, however, disagreement with my thesis is likely to take a very different form, for it is now being said that husbands do not have real authority over their wives, and that wives do not strictly speaking owe obedi-ence to their husbands. It is, says Julian Gosling, very unnatural and misleading to describe in terms of "au-thority" and "obedience" the relationship between hus-gand and wife, given that the wife has the right and duty to enter fully with her husband into discussion of any decisions that are to be made.~ But discussion is in-compatible with authority and obedience only if these are understood in a very restricted way; and since even today a husband is in some. sense the head or leader of the couple, it seems reasonable to continue to talk Of con-jugal authority and obedience--provided that these are sharply distinguished from parental authority and filial obedience. Religious Obedience Let us now put the question: to which of these two kinds of authority is that of the religious superior analo-gous? Well, firstly, a person is a Christian by virtue of his own free option, and he is a religious by virtue of a choice which in a sense is even more free, since there is" no obligation to make it. If these facts were once ob-scured, when people thought they were Catholics be-cause they were born citizens of Catholic countries br members of Catholic families, while some people~ were religious because their parents had given them into religion at an early age, they are now very clear. Secondly, the relationship between religious superior and subject i~ essentially between two adults, since a person taking religious vows is presumed to be mature "Rhetoric and Marriage," Month, January, 1967, p. 29. + + + Authority and Obedience VOLUME 27, 1968 607 enough to do so. Moreover, many reli, gious superiors are younger than some of their subjects. Thirdly, the precise reason why in religious orders. there are superiors and subjects is not that the superiors have knowledge and virtue,' while the subjects are stupid and irresponsible. It may well be that on the average those who are superiors are more gifted than those who are subjects, but if all were equally intelligent and prudent it would still be necessary for religious com-munities to have superiors. Fourthly, the state of religious obedience is not tran-sient, extending only over a period of growth, but life-long. 'Fifthly, if the authority of a religious superior were thought of as being analogous to that of a father over his children, then it would be implied that either the subjects ought to live all their lives in a situation which. is abnormal for mature persons, or else that once they have finished their training they can reasonably consider that they have outgrown obedience, strictly so called, and claim a very large measure of independence. If, however, it is thought of as being analogous to conjugal authority, then obedience presents itself as quite con-sonant with personal maturity; indeed, it becomes rea-sonably easy to see how a religious can achieve personal fulfillment and maturity partly by schooling himself to give recognition and willing obedience to a superior. The conclusion seems inescapable: religious authority and obedience are analogous to conjugal authority and obedience rather than to parental authority and filial obedience,a But is this theologically sound? Firstly, it is traditional doctrine that a religious ought to see Christ in his su-perior. But Christ, surely, was Master to the Apostles and He is our Lord, Master, friend, brother or spouse; but He was not their father and He is not ours. It seems, then, entirely in accord with this traditional doctrine to say that a religious superior is lord or master of his subjects in the way that a husband is the head of a couple, and not in the way that a father is in authority over his children.4 However, secondly, it is also tradi-÷ ÷ ÷ .lohn Cowburn, $o~o REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 608 s Karl Rahner says that religious obedience is not analogous to that of children because this is (1) based on lack of knowledge and responsi-bility in the child as compared with the parents; (2) temporary, having as its aim its own eventual disappearance; (3) given by nature, not chosen by personal election ("A Basic Ignatian Concept: Some Reflec-tions on Obedience," Woodstock Letters, v. 86 [1957], pp. 293--4). This is exactly what I maintain, but Rahner does not develop an alterna-tive analogy. ~ Dora Olivier Rousseau writes that St. Benedict "would have the subject see Christ himself in his Abbot with whom he lives con-stantly: Christi enim agere vices in monasterio creditur [abbas]" tional to compare a religious superior to a father or mother. Could it be that this was simply because it was assumed that paternal authority is the basic form of authority to which all other authority---including con-jugal authority--is analogous; and if this assumption is modified, so may the traditional comparison be cor-rected? Some authors begin by affirming that all authority is analogous to that of a father over his children, but they then go on to point out how vastly different is the authority of a religious superior from that of a parent and end by virtually denying their original affirmation.5 It seems more consistent to suppose that all authority is analogous either to that of a father over his children or to that of a husband over his wife; one can then deny that there is any analogy between a religious superior and a parent without coming into conflict with one's own supposition. Qualifications Firstly, let it be clearly stated that, as with every analogy, there are differences between the terms under comparison. The husband-wife relationship is sexual, which the superior-subject one is not. A husband has only one wife, whereas a religious superior may have many subjects. In most religious orders, superiors are regularly changed, as husbands are not. And so on. Secondly, to say that religious authority is analogous to that of a husband is not to say all that can be said about it. That is, this article makes a point about re-ligious authority but does not attempt to give a com-plete account of it. Thirdly, in all I have been saying I have been con-sidering the normal case, which is that of a superior and a formed religious, rather than that of a superior and a religious who is still in training. In his early years a religious is perhaps something of a child in his order, learning the elements of religious life, and the au-thority of superiors over him has something of a pa- (Introduction to Obedience [London: Blackfriars, 1953], p. 15). "The abbot," Dora Olivier then goes on to say as if it followed naturally, "ought to be the father of his community." But this, surely, is pre-cisely what does not follow from St. Benedict's principle. ~ For instance, Desmond F. McGoldrick ~ays that the prototype of "dominative power" is that of parents in the home; but he then--and this is what seems to me to be somewhat inconsistent--plays down and even denies any analogy between a parent and a religious superior (Fostering Development [Pittsburgh: Duquesne University, 1965], pp. 77-8); and he says: "The attitude which an enlightened Superior should not use towards the other members of the Community is that of the parent-child relationship. She is not a parent; her subjects are not children" (ibid., p. 151). + + + Authority. and Obedience VOLUME 27, lO68 609 ÷ ÷ John Cowbu~n, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6111 rental character; but, firstly, this is plainly not the case to have in mind when working out a theory of religious authority and obedience, hnd, secondly, the authority of stiperiors over subjects in their years of formation ought even then to be mainly "conjugal" and it ought grad-ually to lose its partly parental character as the subject develops. Practical Implications The thesis maintained above has certain practical implications. Firstly, there is frequently a certain "distance" between parents and children, and some fathers even deliberately maintain a degree of aloofness from their children. Also, some political and military leaders, understanding their authority to be quasi-paternal, have quite deliberately kept aloof from their subjects, and they have incited their subjects to think of them as mysterious, superior beings, to be almost worshipped from afar below, and to be obeyed without question in all things. But since no husband should be aloof from his wife, no religious su-perior should be distant from his subjects or use mys-terious aloofness as a device for obtaining unquestioning obedience. Secondly, parents usually call their children by their Christian names or family nicknames, whereas children call their parents by some respectful form of address such as "Father," "Mother," or abridgements of these; but husbands and wives use reciprocal forms of address towards each other. Also, children are frequently taught to adopt a respectful posture when addressing their parents or other adults, at least when asking for some-thing or "being spoken to"; but wives do not as it were stand to attention when a.ddressing their husbands or being addressed by them. It would, then, seem to be nor-mal for a religious to address his superior in much the same way as he would address the same man if he were not the superior--which in many cases means his Chris-tain name, his name in the order, o~ his nickname if he has one. Thirdly, it frequently happens that parents~if one may put it this way--live more expensively than their children do. They do not, for instance, give to their children as much money to spend .on an outing as they themselves would spend; and if from time to time they entertain friends at restaurants they do not make it pos-sible for their children to'entertain thdir friends at those same restaurants. Similarly, in many armies the officers have a higher standard of living than the men. But husbands and wives share and share alike. Of course, it may sometimes happen that a man has an expensive business lunch while his wife, in town for the day, is having a cheap lunch at a department-store cafeteria; but in general they have the same standard of living. Just so, in a religious community superiors and subjects share and share alike, and superiors do not, because they are superiors, have a higher standard of room furni-ture, dress, means of transport, and so on. Fourthly, parents do not ordinarily bring their chil-dren fully into their consultations, but find it su~cient to give them some sort of explanation of whatever de-cisions have been made which affect them, after they have been made. Children for their part exercise filial obedience by trusting their parents and accepting their decisions without argument. Between husbands and wives, however, full consultation is the rule. It may oc-casionally happen that a man must make some decision without consulting his wife, because he is not given enough time to get in touch with her, because the de-cision involves some information which he is obliged to keep secret even from her, or for some other reason; but such an action must be seen as exceptional and in need of a good reason to justify it. In normal circumstances it would be positively wrong for a husband to take an important decision without genuine consultation with his wife--and this means listening to her really seri-ously- for she has a right to be consulted; and for that matter it would be wrong for her to refuse to enter .into consultation, for he has a right to her participation in the decision-making and the responsibility that it en-tails. Usually the final result is a decision which they feel comes from both of them-~either a wife or a hus-band will often say "We have decided" to do this or that--and yet from first to last it is understood between them that the husband is the head, and that the final word rests with him. He feels this and accepts the re-sponsibility that it carries with it; the wife feels it, positively wants it, and participates in the discussion, which may become an argument, in such a way as never to challenge her husband's position but rather always to maintain him in it. In view of this we may perhaps sum up a good deal that is being said about the need for dialogue between religious superiors and their subjects by saying that in the past religious superiors often acted as if they were parents and as if their subjects were children, whereas the superior-subject relationship ought to be modeled on that of husband and wife. That is, in the past superiors did not bring the majority of their subjects into their consultations and merely announced decisions to their subjects after they were made, sometimes adding a brief explanation; and subjects exercised a filial obedience by + + + ,Authority and° Obedience VOLUME 27, 1968 611 trusting their superiors and accepting without argument the decisions they made. Now, however, it is everywhere being said that the fullest possible sharing of informa-tion ought to be the rule. Also, while there are times when general discussion is impossible and when su-periors are fully justified in acting on their own, it should be seen as exceptional and as only justified when there are good reasons, for superiors to act without prior consultation of their communities.6 That is, the re-sponsibility for the right government of a community and the carrying out of its work should be shared by all its members--and yet it must be clearly understood and willed by all that the superior is the head of the com-munity, with real authority over its members. In conclusion it might be said, firstly, that present developments are sometimes described--by both those who favor them and those who oppose them--as amount-ing to a change from monarchical to democratic govern-ment in religious orders. It seems better, however, to look for analogies in the family rather than in the po-litical arena, because the family is the fundamental ' human society and also because in the family authority and obedience both plainly spring from love, as they do in the Church. Secondly, it might be said that those who think of the religious superior as essentially analo-gous to a father or mother inevitably see in contemporary developments a weakening of religious authority. If, how- .ever~ they can accept the proposition that the relation-ship between superior and subject is not'as a rule anal-ogous to the parent-child relationship but to the husband-wife relationship, then they will see that con-temporary developments are tending to realize the true nature of religious authority and obedience,, not to weaken them. o Particularly significant, perhaps, is the suggestion which is being made in various quarters that information about the finances of a house and even of a province or an entire order should be made avail-. able to all members of the house, province, or order; for parents do not normally tell their children how much money they have or keep them informed about income and expenses, whereas modern husbands do normally share this information with their wives and discuss finan-cial problems with them. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS SISTER M. RUTH FOX, O.S.B. PrOviding an Atmosphere for Personality Growth in the Postulancy Religious life* has long been regarded by many as a mode of living almost wholly distinct from human life. Religious men and women were often in the past looked upon as creatures set apart to live an angelic life, a life free of all that was naturally human. They actually tried to live this way and tried to form the candidates to this life in the same manner. That is, the candidates were put into a mold when they entered the postulancy, and they spent their lifetime assimilating this mold into their very being. This procedure turned out molded religious who were not angelic nor human--nor happy. Today, however, we once again realize the basic Christian belief that our human nature is the greatest natural gift we have. It is to be enhanced, not destroyed, during our temporal life. Therefore, it does not matter what specific work or way of life we undertake, we all have a vocation to be human first of all. We cannot be Christian, much less religious, unless we are first of all human. This realization is especially important for those re-ligious who have the responsibility of "formation" in their communities. These sisters have been entrusted with the growth and maturity of not one but many human personalities. They should .be aware that it is possible in the first years of religious life to completely stunt the natural personality growth of the candidates. * This article was written with the help and supervision of Leo R. Kennedy, Ph.D., Chairman of the Department of Psychology, Creigh-ton University, Omaha. Dr. Kennedy; who has given professional service to many religious communities of men and women, encouraged the publishing of the article in the hopes that the suggestions con-tained in it would be implemented in Sister Formation prggrams. ÷ ÷ ÷ : Sister M. Ruth Fox, O.S.B., is the postulant directress at Sacred Heart Pri-ory; Richardton, North Dakota 58652. VOkUME 27~ 1968 613 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Ruth REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 614 But on the other hand, it is also possible, and impera-tive, to accept the human personality and to help it grow to its fullest capacity.1 In order to help the postulants achieve a mature per-sonality, the directress must first be aware of the char-acteristics of these young women o{ the 1960's. She should also have a kn6wledge of the process of per-sonalit) growth and the means to encourage proper growth. These topics will be discussed in this article. Who are these young women that come to the postu-lancy in 1968-69? Most of them are in their late teens or early twenties; therefore, they belong to a class of our society commonly called young adults. They are no longer adolescents or teen-agers, or at least they are in the last stages of that group. But neither are they adults. So the postulant directress cannot base her guidance of them on either adolescent or adult psychology exclu-sively, but must choose from both. An excellent way to get to know them is to read current articles written by, on, or for young adults. But the articles must be cur-rent. Even to go back to material written in the 1950's could be detrimental, because our young people have different ways of expressing their needs in the 1960's. Though it is true that the basic needs of human nature do not seem to change, there are certain needs that are either more emphasized now or are expressed differently than they were 5, 10, or 100 years ago. In current writing, today's young adults are classified as the New Breed, the Restless Generation, the Hippies, the Now Generation. But no matter what they are called, their main concerns are fulfillment, personalism, honesty, integrity, authenticity, and love.2 They have been raised in an era of prosperity and plenty. When they ask how to find personal worth, they are only told to take another helping from the silver platter. But they see that materialism does not give any meaning to life. They see the American society as a cold, mechanical, abstract, and emotionally mean-ingless place.3 Because society offers them so little that x W. W. Meissner, S.J., Group Dynamics in the Religious Li/e (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame, 1965) presents a thorough discussion of the community's responsibility to foster growth. ~ See John Evoy, S.J., "How Neurotic is the New Breed?" Catholic Mind, v. 64 (December, 1966), pp. 28-42; Daniel Goulding, "The Rest-less Generation," Vital Speeches ol the Day, v. 32 (1966), pp. 506-508; Andrew Greeley, "A New Breed," America, CX, 21 (1964), pp. 706-709 and "A Farewell to the New Breed," America, CXIV, 23 (1966), pp. 801-804; George Herndl, "Time of the Now Generation," Liberal Education, LIII, 2 (1967); "The Hippies: Philosophy of a Subculture," Time, July 7, 1967, pp. 18-22; Robert Jones, "Man of the Year: The Inheritor," Time, January 6, 1967, pp. 18-23. 3See "Meet the Restless Generation," Changing Times, XXI, 6 (June, 1967), pp. 6-11. is meaningful and relevant, they are often forced into cynicism. But they nonetheless wish they could find val-ues, goals, or institutions to which they could commit themselvesA. They reject formal organization, legalism, and out-moded forms and regulations because these seem to stifle individualism. They want to be concerned with persons as persons.5 Perhaps this accounts for their~ emphasis on love and fulfillment. They desperately want to love and be loved for what they are. But they are afraid they are loved only for what they, do. In fact, they have been raised this way: "Do what I tell you, and I will show you I love.you." So they have no real faith in them-selves as persons, no real proof that they are lovable for what they are. Thus they preach love to the world in a frantic effort to find it in themselves and others. Our young people are deeply committed to decency, tolerance, and brotherhood--not as a goal, but as a reality to be lived now. "This generation has no utopia. Its idea is the happening. Let. it be concrete, let it be vivid, let it be personal. Let it be nowl" n Because tomorrow is so unsure and ever changing, today must be lived to the fullest. Living and experiencing cannot b.e postponed. It must be made to happen now. In summary then, the 1968-69 postulant is a member of the Now Generation who comes to the convent not to be "formed into a religious; she comes to be fulfilled as a person." 7 The goal of fulfillment need not frighten the postu-lant directress if she is aware of the process of per-sonality growth. The fundamental theory that should dominate the planning of formation (or fulfillment) is that the growth and development of the candidate must come from within the person. Growth cannot be di-rected from the outside because each individual must develop in terms of his own inner capacities. "The a~- tempt to produce growth by putting man into a mold or demanding conformity is based on a total misunder-standing of man, of his nature and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. It is sacrificing the person for the con-venience of the system; it is the mechanizing of man. It is a basic lack of respect for the mystery of the human person." 8 If growth and development are individual inner proc- 4 A good presentation of what youth is looking for is found in Erik Erikson, ed., The Challenge of Youth (New York: Doubleday, 1965). ~ Consult the articles by Andrew Greeley mentioned above. o Jones, p. 20. 7 Sister Miriam Rooney, O.P., "The New Breed Enters the Con-vent," C~;oss and Crown, v. 16 (1964), 397. s Paul D'Arcy and Eugene Kennedy, The Genius o] the Apostolate (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1965) p. 5. + ÷ ÷ P o stul ancy " . . VOLUME 27, 1968 615 esses, what is the role of the postulant directress? She must provide the atmosphere in which the maximum growth and development are possible. To do this, she must first of all be aware of the psychological process called ego identity. Although this is a lifelong process in which the self links the past, present, and future into one person, there is a crisis of identity which occurs duri.ng late adolescence. At this time the young person realizes he is leaving the security of childhood and entering the uncertainties of young adulthood. He is wavering be-tween what he was and what he hopes to be.a Thus the postulant is seeking to clarify her understanding of who she is and what her role is to be. She is seeking for a sense of self and self-acceptance. "The adolescent hopes to forge for himself a perspective and direction, to achieve an effective integration out of the remnants of his childhood and the hopes of his anticipated adult-hood. Failure to resolve this crisis can result in neurosis, psychosis, or delinquent behavior." x0 To help the postulant through this identity crisis, the directress must provide her with acceptance and un-derstanding. Experiencing warm acceptance by impor-tant people in one's life is a prerequisite for knowing and accepting oneself. Obviously the important person in the postulant's life is her directress. So if the postu-lant is to grow, she must know she is loved by her superior. This means that the directress must be warm and loving, not just toward the group but toward each individual in the group. She must take each one into her lieart and really love her. She must be so warm and ac-cepting that the postulant would feel free to confide in her all that she was, is, and hopes to be. Each postulant should realize that she would be loved no matter how many unlovable things she may have done or will do. It is in this atmosphere that the girl can admit and accept her feelings and failures. A person who accepts him-self is also secure enough to accept others. So when each postulant can accept herself and the other postulants, a Christian community of love is. Sister M. Ruth REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 616 ~ A complete explanation of the identity process is found in Erik Erikson, lnsight and Responsibility (New York: Norton, 1964) and "Identity and the Life Cycle," Psychological Issues, v. I (New York: International Universities Press, 1959), pp. 111-117, by the same au-thor. The application of the process to religious life is found in Walter DeBont, O.P., "Identity Crisis and the Male Novice," Rrw~w roR RELigiOUS, v. 21 (1962), pp. 104-128; Barry McLaughlin, S.J., Nature, Grace, and Religious Development (Westminster: Newman, 1964); and Sister Thomas More, C.S.J., "Self Identification and Religious Li~e," in The Retreat Master Faces the Nun in the Modern World, ed. John Powell and others (St. MarTs, Kansas: St. Mary's College, 1965). ~ McLaughlin, p. $4. formed. Having experienced a sense of love and security in the postulancy, the young woman is better prepared to be an apostle of love. Not only should the directress be warm and loving, but the very surroundings in the convent should reflect this feminine warmth. Why can't postulancies (and con-vents) look homey? Warmth and growth would be en-couraged by such things as colorful drapes on the windows; a vase of flowers on the table, pictures '(not just saints!) on the wall, end tables cluttered with cur-rent magazines and newspapers, family photographs on the piano, a knitting bag on the floor. If we have nor-mal healthy conditions, we will. foster normal healthy growth. Many times, normal people leave our convents because they cannot lead abnormal lives in abnormal living conditions. Let's keep the normal ones111 In an atmosphere of warmth and affection, the postu-lant will feel more free to be herself, and her per-sonality will thus grow in a healthful manner. To make her growth and establishment of identity easier, the directress should realize another difficulty that the postu-lant faces. If the girl experienced normal adolescent de-velopment, she probably established a certain sense of identity before her entrance into the convent. She had a secure place in her family and probably had definite responsibilities to fulfill at home. She possessed ~a certain status in her peer group and perhaps held offices of importance in her high school or college. But in entering the religious community, all these former securities and relationships are either greatly modified or broken en-tirely. She is no longer able to live her identity in the same way. Therefore, to give her a sense of security and continuity, couldn't these healthy relationships be al-lowed to continue? The postulant's family was the main environment for her personality growth since birth. Should it suddenly be .discarded as if it were no longer of value? "The breakdown of family ties magnifies the identity crisis." 12 Thus the postulant's family should feel free and welcome to visit her anytime. Frequent letters should be en-couraged. Perhaps she could go home for weddings, graduations, anniversaries, and an occasional weekend. There is no apparent reason for cutting off all ties with her former friends either. Letters should be allowed to come and go without inspection or limitation. As the postulant gets involved with college and new friend- ~ See Eugene Kenned)', M.M., "Differentiated Discipline in the Seminary," National Catholic Education Association Bulletin, LX, 1 (August, 1964), pp. 79--89. m Joseph Simmons, C.S.C., "The Catholic College Student: His War against Protection," Ave Maria, CIV, 16 (October 15, 1966), p. 6. 4. 4- Postulancy VOLUME 27, 1968 617 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Ruth REVIEW FOR REI;IGIOUS 618 ships, the letters will gradually decrease. Perhaps rthe postulant's closest friends could spend a weekend with her at the convent. (This would not only .be good for ,her, but also for the convent's public relations program.) Discarding uniforms for the postulants might also favor personality growth. If the postulant continues ¯ wearing' the same dresses she wore before entrance, she has another source of security. At a time when many former securities are left behind, this will give her a sense of identity with her past. It might also help to abolish the notion that "the habit makes the nun." Such a notion is harmful because the postulant may ex-pect the uniform to produce automatic changes in her behavior. She is thus disappointed in herself and in the life when she discovers that she remains the same per-son. Perhaps there is a reason for the donning of a habit at the time of reception into the ,novitiate or at profes-sion of vows. But it seems that at this time of identity crisis, the postulant would be "more secure in her own clothing. Obedience also poses a problem for the directress and the postulants. Today's youth feel that obedience de-stroys their freedom and perhaps smothers their in-dividual identity. They will ordinarily not refuse to obey; but before carrying out a command, they want to sit down and discuss th~ "why" of it with the superior. This is not to be taken as disrespect or unwillingness to obey. They only wish to obey in a more human manner by understanding what they are doing.13 When they un-derstand, they are able to commit themselves to the deed in a responsible manner. If the directress can find no r~asonable answer to the postulant's question, "Why should I~do this?" perhaps it should not be done. Even occasional rebellion on the part of an individual may be a healthy assertion of self. Though often referred to as obedience, strict ad-herence to rules and schedules is frequently an escape from responsible, decision making. Directresses should provide as many opportunities as possible for the postu-lants to make their own decisions. It is difficult to see how this can be accomplished if every minute of the day is scheduled for the girls. Other college girls of their age devise their own schedules. They decide the times to study, to write letters, to ~lean their rooms, to retire. A postulant- will soon learn that if she spends all her study time reading novels or watching TV, she will begin to fail in her college classes. She learns this through per-sonal expgrience the hard way. But this is much more ~ See Stafford Poole, C.M., "The New Breed and the Old Semi-nary," Jubilee, XIII, 2 (June, 1965), pp. 8-13. effective in producing healthy growth in responsibility than if she were simply told the first night in the con-vent: "We study from 8:00 to I0:00 every night." The minimizing of rules and scheduled living is not a relaxation. It is just putting responsibility where it be-longs, on the person. It is changing enforced discipline to self-discipline. Related to rules and schedules is the assignment of household chores such as cleani.ng, ironing, and washing dishes. It is certainly profitable for all members of a community to participate in keeping house. These tasks should be looked upon as means of serving the other members o[ the community. Again, as much initiative as possible should be left to the girls in deciding when and how to do the work. They could also decide among themselves who would do what, and how often they wanted to exchange tasks. These are just a few of the small but important ways in which postulants can be encouraged to grow in maturity. "When we take youngsters out of high school who are still adolescents--a rebellious stage, still longing for adult status--and never let them get a taste of what it means to be an adult, what can we expect but that they will be unhappy subjects." 14 Too often, our candi-dates are not only kept in adolescence, but are even thrown back to childhood. We can help them grow into adulthood simply by giving them trust and responsi-bility. 15 However, there is really not much initiative and re-sponsibility involved in pushing a broom, and a young woman's need for self-actualization is not met in this way. College girls of our day see themselves as creative and productive, and they have great social concern.1~ They want challenging and difficult work with little intervention from others. If they are not stimulated in this direction, they may withdraw into themselves or develop other signs of maladjustment. If we wish to have zealous sisters, we must not let this youthful enthusiasm of the postulant wither while she is busy writing term papers and wiping dishes. Since she is a member of the Now Generation, she wants to do something meaningful for others now. She wants to undertake a task where there is a definite need for her services and self. In doing a~ John Evoy, S.J., and Van Cristoph, S.J., Personality Development in the Religious LiIe (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1963), p. 183. an A very helpful book is Psychological Aspects of Spiritual Develop-ment, Michael O'Brien and Raymond Steimel, ed., (Washington: Catholic University of America Press, 1964). a0 See Elizabeth Monroe Drews, "Counseling for Self-actualization in Gifted Girls and Young Women," Journal of Counseling Psy-chology, XII, 2 (Summer, 1965), pp. 167-175. ÷ ÷ ÷ P ostulancy VOLUME 27, 1968 619 Sister M. ~ Ruth REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 620 a task in which she i~ needed, the young woman comes to 'see her own personal worth. "Every man needs to know that he has an intrinsic' value, that he is im-portant, worthwhile." lz It often happens in the religious life that people who want to do great things are de-mobilized. But it should be realized that it is a sign of health if a person longs to do something important with his life.is Since postulants are expected to be normal young women, they should be allowed to fulfill this normal need by doing something meaningful for others. Op-portunities within the convent can be found to satisfy some of this need. The older sisters, especially those in the infirmary, need and appreciate the friendship of youth. And youth, in turn, can profit greatly from the wisdom and experience of age. The postulants should be permitted the enrichment of their personalities by close association with all the other members of the com-munity. A meaningful apostolate for action should also be sought outside the convent. Some areas of investigation might be the parish CCD program, high school or young adult discussion clubs, Newman Club, homes for the aged, hospitals, schools, and so forth. Of course, these are only temporary apostolates, but they will satisfy the need for meaningful action now. Howevdr, the postulant must also be well aware of the !ongterm goal toward which she is working. That is, she should have some idea of her future status in the com-munity so that she sees her future role in the group as an important one, one that is worthwhile waiting for. In the fulfillment of self-enjoined and community-appointed apostolates, the postulant will reveal her psy-chological maturity. The directress should watch for manifestations of inferidrity feelings, egotism, undue competitiveness, hbstility, rigidity, and a false sense of reality.~9 Because the girls are not conforming to rigid standards of performance, their personal strengths and weaknesses will appear. The directress can then counsel them accordingly and either help them to grow toward maturity or to realize that they would find greater ful-fillment in another way of life. One other means of providing an atmosphere favor-able to personality growth will be mentioned. Postu-lants, like other normal young women, negd to be free to agsociate with young people of their own age who are 1~Thomas Dubay, S.M., "Psychological Needs in the Religious Context," REvmw FOR Ra~LIGXOUS, V. 21 (1962), p. 525. ~s Refer' to the article by Eugene Kennedy noted above. ~ Trafford Maher, s.J., Lest We Build on Sand, (St. Louis: Catholic Hospital Association, 1962), pp. 203-208. not necessarily in the religious state. Means should some-how be provided for them to meet and make friends out-side the convent on an intellectual and social level. They will grow through these new interpersonal relationships, for in growing concerned and interested in others, there is a loss of self-centeredness. In listening to the prob-lems of a new college girl friend, the postulant may come to appreciate her own life more. And in relating to a boy of her own age, she will grow in maturity and womanliness. Yes, the postulant should have contact with boys. She grew up amid boys in her family, neighborhood,: and school. She hopefully had the experience of dating. Now after she enters the convent, why should the sight of a person of the opposite sex be denied her? Will the sight of a boy suddenly be harmful to her? It would be so much healthier if she could continue to relate to young men of her own age especially. In relating to them, she grows in femininity, which is very important to her as a young woman. If there is a danger to chastity, if the postulant is not able to control her sexual drives, then it is certainly best for her and for the community to find this out soon. How sad it is for women who have taken vows to discover they cannot speak to a man on the school faculty or a doctor on the staff without becom-ing either rigid and afraid or sexually stimulated. To permit these healthful relationships with other young people, the postulants could be permitted tO at-tend (sometimes without their directress) Newman Club gatherings, interfaith meetings, weekend retreats, and an occasional evening concert or drama. Healthful personality growth in the convent does not just happen. The proper atmosphere has to be prepared and sustained. This is the task of the postulant di-rectress. She must know the characteristics and needs of the young women she is guiding. She must accept and love them unconditionally and provide them with op-portunities for growth in love, responsibility, and womanliness. "Every state in life is meant to lead its followers to a rich personality development together with (and we might add because of) their achievement of the beatific vision of the divine Trinity." ~0 SUPPLEMENTARY ]~IBLIOGRAPHY Allport, Gordon. Pattern and Growth in Personality. New York: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, 1961. Cameron, Norman. Personality Development and Psychopathol-ogy: A Dynamic Approach. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1963. Edward Carney, OSFS. "The Seminary Rule," National Catholic ~0 Dubay, p. 523. ÷ ÷ Pos~laney VOLUME 27, 1%8 62] Education Association Bulletin, LXIII, 1 (August, 1966), 108-114. D'Arcy, Paul."'Differentlated Seminary Discipline," NCEA Bul-letin, LX, 1 (August, 1964), 85-91. Dignan, Sister Howard, B.V.M. "Identity and Change in Re-ligious Life," RrvIEw fOR RV.LICIOUS, XXV, 4 (July, 1966), 669-677. Dondero, Autin, F.S.C. No Borrowed Light: Mental Health for Religious. Milwaukee: Bruce, 1965. Frick, Willard. "Healthy Interpersonal Relationships'. an Ex-ploratory Study," Journal of Individual Psychology, XXIII, 1 (May, 1967), 59-66. Gallen, Joseph, s.J., "Femininity and Spirituality," REVIEW for RrL~G~OUS, XX, 4 (July, 1964), 237-256. Goldberg, Arthur. "J.uvenatrics'. Study of Prolonged Adoles-cence," The Cleartng House, XLI, 5 (December, 1966), 218- 222. Hargadon, Kevin, F.S.C. "Psychological Requirement for Re-ligious Vocation," National Catholic Guidance Conference Journal, X, 4 (Summer, 1966), 271-279. Huyghe, Gerard. Tension and Change: The Problems of Re-ligious Orders Today. Westminster: Newman, 1966. McKinney, Fred. Psychology o[ Personal ~ld]ustment. New York: Wiley, 1941. Maher, Trafford, S.J. Self--.4 Measureless Sea (Cou.nseling: Theory and Practice). St. Louis: Catholic Hospital Associa-tion, 1966. Regan, Francis. "Authority and Obedience in Seminary Train-ing," NCE/1 Bulletin, LXIII, 1 (August, 1966), 103-107. Rogers, Carl. On Becoming a Person. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1960. Schneiders, Alexander. "Adolescence and the Challenge of Ma-turity," National Catholic Guidance ConIerence Journal, X, 2 (Winter, 1966), 109-117. Simmons, Joseph, C.S.C. "Seminary as Institution," Catholic Education Review, LXIV, 26 (February 1966), 97-105. Stafford, John, C.S.V. "The Religious Rule and Psychological Development," Rrvxv.w voR R~ioIo~s, XXV, 2 (March, 1966), 294-304. Van Kaam, Adrian. Personality Fulfillment in the Religious Life. ~.Vilkes-Barre: Dimension Books, 1967. Walters, Sister Annette, S.C.J. "Attitudes, Values, and Motiva-tional Systems of the American Catholic Woman College Student," Catholic Psychological Record, IV, 1 (Spring, 1966), 20-34. Wilson, C. R. "Self-Acceptance and Religious Security," R~vi~w vo~ R~Lxcxoos, XXI, 6 (November, 1962), 555-559. 4- 4- $i~t~r M." Ruth REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JOSEPH F. GALLEN, S.J. Proper Juridical Articles of.Constitutions In the article, "Constitutions without Canons," REw~.w fOR R~.LIOIOUS, May, 1968, the purpose was to eliminate as far as possible the canons or laws of the Church from the constitutions of congregations of sisters and brothers. The result would be that the constitutions would almost completely consist of laws proper to the particular institute, which is the nature and definition of constitntions. These proper juridical laws are n~cessary determinations of matters that are undetermined in canon law or' matters over and above the norms of canon law. It was also advised in the same article that all detailed matters now found in constitutions should be placed in the custom book or in a similar book. The present article lists in 'the first section the juridical topics of proper law that should be in the constitutions, and in the second section gives added matters that I now believe should also be placed in the custom book, that is, matters over and above those put in the custom book in the "Constitutions Without Canons" article. The number in parenthesis after each topic is that of the corresponding article in "Typical Constitutions of Lay Religious Congregations," RrwEw for REL~C~OUS, 25 (1966), 361--~57. The vote of a council is mentioned in the first sec-tion for the purpose of information, but we recom-mended in the "Constitutions without Canons" article that all votes of councils be confined to lists in the cus-tom book. The listing of the matters proper to each institute will also enable all o[ these to make a more accurate study of the juridical matters that should constitute the proper law of an institute. This can result ultimately at least in the increase,or decrease o[ the matters listed in this article. A close study of this aspect was not too easy ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph F. Gallen, $.J.," writes ~rom St. Joseph's Church; ~1 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Penn-sylvania VOLUME 27, 1968 in the past due to the large number of canons contained in the constitutions. I. MATTERS THAT MUST BE l~TAINED IN THE CONSTITUTIONS ]oseph F. Gallen, s.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1. General purpose (1) 2. Special purpose (2) 3. Authorization necessary [or a change in the special purpose or in the particular works (3-4) 4. Classes of members (5)1 5. Authorization necessary for a change in the reli-gious habit (16) 6. Superior competent to admit to the postulancy and any vote of a council (38)2 7. Duration of postulancy beyond six months (40) 8. Higher superior competent' to prolong the postu-lancy and any vote of a council (40); to abbreviate a postulancy longer than six months and any vote of a council (40)3 9, Superior competent to dismiss a postulant and any vote of a council (38)4 1 "Unless the state of affairs suggests otherwise, care must be taken to produce in women's communities a single category of sisters" (Ab-bott- Gallagher, The Documents oI Vatican li [paperback edition], 478). * The Code of Canon Law contains no legislation concerning the superior competent to admit to the postulancy. The matter is there-fore governed by the particular constitutions. In the modern practice of the Holy See the mother general has the right of admission when the congregation is not divided into provinces; if such a division exists, this right is given to the higher superiors or to the mother general for the entire congregation and to the mothers provincial for their own provinces. In the latter type of congregation the right is sometimes given only to the mother general. A very small number of congregations demand the consultative vote of the respective council and an equally small number prescribe a deliberative vote. * Canon 539, § 2, gives the right of prolonging the postulancy to higher superiors. In the constitutions the higher superior who has the right of admission is also the one who has the right of prolonga-tion. Therefore, this matter was explained in the preceding note, and the statements there made on the consultative' and deliberative vote are also applicable here. Recent constitutiofis permit the mother general, provincial, or higher superiors to abbreviate a postulancy longer than six months provided a postulancy of six months is preserved. At times no vote, th( consultative, or even the deliberative vote o[ the respective council has been prescribed for the abbreviation (REVIEW for RELI¢IOVS, 21 [1962], 409). * In the practice o[ the Sacred Congregation of Religious, the dis-missal of postulants is reserved in the same manner as admission to higher superiors. Some constitutions demand a consultative vote of the council for dismissal even though no vote was required for ad-mission. A few constitutions give a local superior the right of dis-missing a postulant in an urgent case. I0. Higher superior competent to admit to the novice-ship and vote of a council (44)5 11. Authority competen.t for the establishment or transfer of a novitiate (46) 12. Necessity or advisability of a novitiate in each province (47)° 13. Duration of a noviceship beyond a year (50)7 14. Authority competent to dispense from the second year of noviceship (50) 15. Manner of beginning the noviceship (52) 16. Superior competent for the dismissal of a novice and any vote of a council (67)s "In virtue of canon 543 admission to the noviceship appertains to a higher superior, and consequently to the mother general or provincial in a centralized institute, to the superior of a monastery of nuns, and to the mother superior in a congregation that has a similar monastic structure. The same canon demands that the council or chapter have a vote in this admission. The particular constitutions decide whether the council or the chapter has the vote. In centralized institutes the council will always have the vote; in monasteries of nuns and insti. tutes of similar structure the chapter has the vote, but there can be also a previous vote of the council. It is likewise left to the constitu-tions to determine whether this vote of the council or chapter is deliberative or consultative. According to the ordinary practice of the Sacred Congregation the vote is deliberative, but in a few congre-gations it is only consultative. Congregations divided into provinces can have variations. The competent higher superior is frequently the mother provincial with the deliberative vote of her council, but often this must be supple-mented by the confirmation, approval, or consent'of the mother general either alone or with the deliberative or consultative vote of the general council. In other constitutions admission appertains to the mother general or the higher superior with the deliberative or consultative vote of the council, and, finally, in some institutes the mother provincial with the deliberative vote of her council merely proposes the admission to the mother general, who admits with the deliberative vote of her council. ~ Canon law does not oblige each province to have its own novitb ate, but the constitutions impose this obligation either absolutely or as far as it is possible. The Normae of 1901 stated that it was appro-priate for each province to have its own novitiate (n. 303). ¢ Canon 555, § 2, states that a period beyond a year demanded for the noviceship by the particular constitutions is not required for validity unless this is expressly stated in the constitutions. In practice it is required only for liceity. This longer period is practically always two years, but a few institutes have a noviceship of eighteen months. S According to canon'571, § 1, the competent authority for the dismissal of a novice is the superior or the chapter according to the constitutions. In the practice of the Sacred Congregation, the dis-missal of a novice is reserved to higher superiors with the vote of the council, which is more frequently consultative than deliberative. In congregations without provinces, this higher superior is the mother general. In congregations with provinces, the right is more frequently reserved to the mother general, but in some institutes it is given to the higher superior or the mother provincial. When the right is reserved to the mother general, the constitutions at times enact that the mother provincial and her council are to be con-sulted. Constitutions VOLUME 27, 1968 ÷ ÷ ÷ SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 17. Superior competent for the prolongation of the noviceship and any vote of a council (68)9 18. Duration. of temporary vows beyond three years; length of each temporary profession, for example, one of three, another of two years, or vice versa; five annual professions, and so forth (72) 19. Higher superior competent to admit to the pro-fessions, to prolong temporary profession, and vote of a council (73)1° ~ Canon 571, § 2, gives the right of prolongation of the noviceship to higher superiors but does not prescribe any vote of the council. Great variety is found in this matter in constitutions. In congregations without provinces, the right appertains to the mother general. The constitutions often demand no vote but in some the consultative and less frequently the deliberative vote of the council is prescribed. In congregations divided into provinces, the right of prolongation is given to the higher superior or the mother general, alone or with the consultative or deliberative vote of the respective council. 10 In virtue of canon 543, only a higher superior is competent to admit to any religious profession, whether temporary (first, renewal, or prolongation), or perpetual (solemn or simple). The competent higher superior is the mother superior in a congregation that has the monastic'structure and the mother general in a~centralized congrega-tion that is not divided into pr6vinces. In a congregation that has provinces, the constitutions determine whether the one admitting is the mother general or the mother provincial. Such constitutions fre-quently reserve the admissions to all professions to the mother gen-eral. This right is often given also to the mother provincial or higher superiors. Frequently also, and especially for perpetual profession, the mother provincial admits but her admission mnst be confirmed by the mother general. In a few institutes, at least sonde admissions ap-pertain to the mother general and her council but the request for the admission is made by the mother provincial with her council, for example, with the deliberative vote of this council for admiss!on to first temporary profession. If the constitutions do not determine the legitimate higher superior for the prolongation of temporary vows (c. 574, § 2), this appertains to the higher superior who has the right of admitting to either temporary or perpetual profession, but more probably to the latter when the higher superior for both of these admissions is not the same in the law of the constitutions. Canon 543 demands that there be a vote of the council or chapter, without specifying whether the vote is to be deliberative or consulta-tive, for admission to first temporary profession and perpetual pro-fession, whether simple 9r solemn, but not for the renewal of tem-porary vows nor for the prolongation of temporary profession. Canon 575, § 2, demands that the vote for the first temporary profession be deliberative, which is also to be extended to institutes in which the first profession is perpetual by privilege. The same canon appears to prescribe that the vote for the perpetual profession, simple or solemn, be only consultative; but the Holy See in approving consti-tutions interprets the canon as permitting a deliberative vote. There-fore, the Code of Canon Law permits either a consultative or delibera-tive vote for perpetual profession. In centralized congregations the council of the competent higher superior always has the vote. In congregations that have the monastic structure, the chapter has the vote; but there can also be a previous vote of the council. In the constitutions of centralized congregations: (1) the vote of the council.for the first temporary prgfession must be deliberative by reason of canon 575, § 2; (2) for renewals of temporary professions the constitutions commonly prescribe the consultative 20. Superior competent to permit an anticipated re-newal of temporary vows and any vote of a council (78)11 21. Authority competent to dispense from duration of temporary vows beyond three years (74) 22. Superior competent to receive the vows (74) 23. Formula of professions (75) 24. Definition of the vow of poverty (82) 25. Prescription on common life with regard to pov-erty (93) 26. Definition of the vow of chastity (94) 27. Definition of the vow of obedience (95-6, 100) 28. Obligation to obey constitutions and other orders of superiors (99) 29. Superior competent to exclude from renewing temporary vows or from making perpetual profession and any vote of a council (152)t-° 30. (Diocesan) A petition for dismissal of a professed of temporary vows must be made by the mother general and any vote of her council (155)la 31. Previous judgment on the incorrigibility and dis-missal of a. professed of perpetual vows and vote of coun-cil (158)a4 32. Superior competent for the declaration of fact in an automatic dismissal and vote of council (161)15 vote; (3) for the prolongation of temporary vows, the constitutions more frequently demand no vote but some require the consultative and a few the deliberative vote; (4) for perpetual profession the vote prescribed by the constitutions is practically always consultative. a According to canon 577, § 2, an anticipation as such may be per-mitted by any superior, whether a higher or minor local. However, this right is only to admit an anticipation. Since the renewal is a juridical profession, all the requisites of such a profession must be observed, and therefore the admission must be made by the compe-tent higher superior according to the constitutions, as explained in the preceding note. In constitutions an anticipation is usually re-served to a higher superior or to a particular higher superior. ~ Canon 637 leaves to the constitutions the determination of the superior competent for exclusion. The constitutions usually assign this right to the superior general with the consultative vote of her couucil, but a few demand the deliberative vote. A small number of constitutions give this power to the provincial or higher superiors cither alone or with the consultative or, less frequently, the delibera-tive vote of the council (REvmw FOR RELIGIOUS, 25 [1966], 391). ~ In a diocesan congregation the superior general will present the petition for a dismissal to the local ordinary, but the constitutions will frequently require the consultative or deliberative vote of her council for such a petition (REVIEW fOR RELmtOUS, 16 [1957], 272). x, Canon law does not clearly demand the intervention of the mother general nor of her council in the dismissal of a professed of perpetual vows. However, from analogy with the law on the dismis-sal of religious men of perpetual vows and the constant practice of the Sacred Congregation of Religious in the approval of constitutions, the dismissal of a professed woman of perpetual vows in both pon-tifical and diocesan congregations is to be referred to the mot

Issue 49.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1990. ; Liberation and thel~iturgical Year How to Read St. John of the Cross Lasting Friends Volume 49 Number 6 November/December 1990 REVIEW I:oa REL~GIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Mis-souri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus: Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Blvd., Rm. 428; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis MO. Single copies $3.50. Subscriptions: United States $15.00 for one year; $28.00 for two years. Other countries: US $20.00 for one year; if airmail, US $35.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW FOR RELIGOUS; P,O. BOX 6070: Duluth, MN 55806. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. ©1990 REVIEW yon RELIGIO~S. David L. Fleming, S.J. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors David J. Hassel, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Wendy Wright, Ph.D. Advisory Board Mary Margaret Johanning, S.S.N.D. Sean Sammon, F.M.S. Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B. November/December 1990 Volume 49 Number 6 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Eliza-beth McDonough, O.P.; 5001 Eastern Avenue; P.O. Box 29260; Washington, D.C. 20017. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW roR RELIGIOUS; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, M! 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available oft cassette 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. PRISMS. As we come to the end of another calendar year, we also find our-selves bridging the end and beginning of our Christian liturgical year. November is like a summary or review month--a past looking towards a future. It always begins with the two days commemorating all the saints and then all the faithful departed; it closes with a Sunday celebration of the eschatological feast of Christ the King. With Advent and with the Christmas season, we listen and we look--listening anew to the words of biblical prophets and looking upon the Word become flesh. Perhaps we better describe it as a future looking to the present. The divine call of hope coming through the prophets and being enfleshed in Jesus touches the human heart. It rouses the deepest of hu-man desires--to experience oneself as free in a world which is free and to experience peace within oneself and peace without. Most of the arti-cles in this issue involve a looking back and a looking ahead. At the same time, they also touch the present--with our experience of peace in its vari-ous forms, and with our experience of freedom. The articles by Kennington, Rich, van Breemen, and Kerr take up various implications of what has been identified as liberation theology. The origins of liberation theology are found in the so-called Third World countries, particularly in theological writers of South America. More broadly used in the Church, this theology has become a studied way of understanding, articulating, and living out our Christian faith so that we may affect situations and policies which tend to breed injustice and un-freedom. Liberation theology can sometimes seem to condone or even advocate some kind of violence. But no theology can merit the name Christian which is not permeated with a peace which only God can give. Liberation ~theology, especially when viewed in its spirituality, is most of all a theology of the kind of peace sung about by the angels on that first Christmas night. Perhaps one or other of these articles will be a kind of Bethlehem star for us, leading us to a place of greater freedom and peace, either within ourselves or without. Of special interest to a number of our readers are certain upcoming anniversaries. With the feast of St. John of the Cross celebrated in De-cember, there begins the 400th anniversary of the death of this great mys-tic, 1591-1991. Steven Payne, O.C.D., editbr of the Carmelite journal 1101 Review for Religious, November-December 1990 Spiritual Life, provides us with some contemporary approaches to John's spiritual doctrine. Thomas Moore, O.C.D.S., tries to provide us with some basic directions to enter more profitably into the rich teaching of John. In celebration of another anniversary, our January/February 1991 is-sue will be unique in its focused selection of Ignatian spirituality arti-cles and book reviews. The year 1991 marks the 50th volume of REVIEW FOR RELiGiOUS, and the first issue of this volume will honor the Ignatian spirituality tradition, which is celebrating the combined anniversaries of 450 years since the founding of the Society of Jesus and 500 years since the birth of St. Ignatius Loyola. As we close out the first half century of this publication with this is-sue, the staff of REVtEW FOR RELmtOUS wishes all of our readers a Christ-mastide full of the blessings of peace and of freedom. David L. Fleming, S.J. Bethlehem Star: Spiritual Direction in Social Action Ministries Paddy Kennington Paddy Kennington is presently teaching literacy education in shelters for homeless people in Raleigh, North Carolina. With her master's degree in counseling and psy-chology and a graduate certificate in spiritual direction from Washington Theologi-cal Union, she also serves as an area formation director for the Third Order, Society of St. Francis, Episcopal Church. Her address is 2404-1C Bradford Dr.; Wilson, North Carolina 27893. Spiritual direction training and spiritual directors can become part of the praxis of social ministries. If the goals and purposes of social ministries are restricted to serving food, providing shelter, and legislative advo-cacy, worthy as those activities are, then God's wider plan of transform-ing grace and unity may never happen. The learning accumulated in spiri-tual direction training and experience can be part of the organization and spirituality of a social ministryin the Church. A graced life is not a pri-vate life. We are meant to become "breach menders and restorers of ru-ined houses" (Is 58: 12). One way to rethink thb relationship betWeen spiritual direction and social ministry as spirituality in action is to 'draw parallels between the two in the context of the concrete experiences of volunteers and street persons in a soup kitchen. This seems to me to be one method to dem-onstrate the thesis that spiritual direction has a role in social ministry. The Center for Spirituality and Justice in New York City has investigated the necessity to include an awareness of social consciousness as part of the spiritual direction relationship, t The reciprocity between spiritual di-rection skills and principles and social action is equally important in the daily hands-on ministries of shelters, clothing banks, and soup kitchens. 803 Review for Religious, November-December 1990 Two stories of volunteers and street people illustrate the need to include spiritual direction with social action. The Soup Kitchen Antonio In early 1983, four of us from the Social Apostolate soup kitchen in Savannah, Georgia, organized an emergency winter night shelter. The next year, we added an evening soup kitchen and health care. Eventu-ally, I became the first director. 1 met many men and women like Anto-nio who appeared one fall evening in our soup line. He was wearing an over-sized woman's coat. Antonio's suitcase had remained on the bus that left him while he was looking for food. What funds Antonio had in his pockets had vanished quickly into slippery street fingers. After visiting the health-care clinic in our building, we discovered Antonio was thoroughly infested with lice. We also realized he had a men-tal disability and with his friendly, innocent manner, was not able to cope with the violence of street life. Antonio arrived in town in time for the opening of our winter shelter. Luckily, we were able to get him off the street each night. After a few days, the local Catholic Worker became Antonio's tem-porary home. He was an outgoing person and tried to fit in with our com-munity at the soup kitchen and with the Catholic Worker family. Anto-nio wanted to work and contribute to his keep. But his attempts at typ-ing for us and for the health-care nurses were disastrous. One of the nurses convinced him to write to his family in New Jersey. We began to get frantic phone calls from them, and were able to persuade his fa-ther not to get on the first plane to rescue Antonio. One winter evening as the volunteers were converting the hall from soup kitchen to night shelter, Antonio and I sat next to the front door while we waited to take the names of that night's guests. He turned to me and with his eyes averted as usual, asked, "Paddy, what's this place really all about?" I thought a moment and then said, "It's like a bus station, Antonio. People get off the bus, out of the streets, for a little while. They stay with us until they get back on the bus and move on." He turned that over in his mind and said, "Yeah, that's right. That's what I did. I'm staying here and then I'll move on, too." Antonio did leave eventually but not before he had struggled with his reasons for suddenly running away from his home in New Jersey. I think he struck out on his own because he wanted to know if he could take care of himself. Antonio's parents were overly protective and his Spiritual Direction in Social Action Ministries / 805 brother pushed him hard to excel beyond his handicap. On the other hand, his disability did not keep Antonio from searching, questioning, and striving for what he believed to be his freedom. His questions and sense of independence may have taken a different expression from yours or mine. But the restless heart of St. Augustine was the same for Anto-nio as it is for all of us. In the spring while the azaleas and dogwoods were blooming, Anto-nio returned to his home and family. In the last letter we received from him, he told us about the computer course he was taking. One afternoon the following fall, a care-package of used jeans and winter shirts from Antonio arrived at the shelter. He had not forgotten those still on the bus. St. Teresa discovered after experiencing the prayer of union, that the Lord had been waiting many years for her "yes" to the Creator's gift of spiritual treasures and blessings.2 In his desire to d~cide the course of his own life, Antonio had said yes and gone out to find the courage to make his dream of freedom and independence come true. Bonnie I am always amazed at the intensity of emotion sometimes shown by volunteers toward the poor and street people. Initially, most soup kitchen volunteers are hesitant and even afraid. Few are prepared for the reality of human degradation, begging, and manipulation one is exposed to as part of the daily routine of providing minimal food to hundreds of hungry men, women, and children. Some turn away in tears or disgust; others are drawn to their fellow human beings through compassion, like moths to a flame. But sooner or later if they don't walk away, the inevi-table questions will arise. How can they live like this? Why doesn't the city do something? Where will they sleep tonight? They are all so sad; doesn't this get to you after awhile? Bonnie was a kind, loving woman from one of the many church groups that volunteer on a regular basis one evening each month. I had noticed Bonnie on her firsf day of volunteering while she was serving sandwiches. During her next few evenings in the serving line, she was withdrawn and reluctant to interact with the guests, as though she would rather be in the kitchen. Bonnie avoided any friendly contact except to plop a sandwich on a waiting plate. I had hoped for an opportunity to speak to Bonnie privately during the cleanup routine. "Well, how was it in the serving line tonight, Bon-nie?" I asked as dishes and pots were being scrubbed. She looked down at her feet and said anxiously, "Seeing all those men eating here really bothers me. My husband and I work hard for what Review for Religious, November-December 1990 we have. Why can't they get a job? Why am I expected to take care of them with my hard-earned tax money?" Clearly, Bonnie was torn emotionally between the teachings of Je-sus on love and charity she had heard all her life, and her present feel-ings of indignation, anger, and disgust. And the ~onflict inside showed on her face. This was not a time for reminders that we are to pray for God's forgiveness and strive for empathy for others. At that moment, what Bonnie needed was understanding and peace. I knew she could not yet be aware that coming to resolution about her feelings and attitude to-ward the soup kitchen guests meant that she herself would become the broken bread offered by Christ on the cross. Bonnie was too full of bit-terness and frustration. "I'd like you to meet one of our guests sometime, Bonnie," I said to her gently. "He's quite a character. And I hope you'll give us and yourself a second chance before you make up your mind about soup kitch-ens and street people." "I don't think I'll be back," Bonnie said. 'I just can't stand seeing all those lazy men ripping us all off, when they could be working and taking care of themselves." Her face was lined with anger and she pushed the broom even harder on the dining hall floor. I shared a few words of comfort but I did not push her to commit to another volunteer shift. Bonnie needed time to sort out her feelings. About two months later, I saw Bonnie walk in the front door with her church group. She still had a look of hostility and reluctance. I was afraid that if she could not get beyond her anger, she might lash out at one of the guests, or cause them to react to her in a negative way. "I'm glad you came back, Bonnie," I said. "Maybe you'd rather work in the kitchen instead of the soup line today." "No," Bonnie replied grimly. "I'm going to try the serving line one more time." "Maybe you'll get to meet Jim later," I suggested. "We'll see," she said. I was busy that suppertime and didn't get back to Bonnie until the end of the serving. I had Jim by the hand when we approached her. "Jim, I want you to meet Bonnie,'" I introduced them. Jim smiled a semi-toothless grin and shoved his hand toward Bonnie for a friendly shake. She shook his hand. I wondered what it took from her to give that little inch. "Jim is a regular here, Bonnie. He's been with us a long time," I explained. "Jim is one of the first guests we were able to help get off Spiritual Direction in Social Action Ministries / il07 the streets. Now he helps out with cleanup and carrying in heavy food boxes." I backed out of the conversation as Jim was bending Bonnie's ear about his latest fishing exploits. Later Bonnie found me in the laundry room. "Jim's a real charac-ter and I realize why you brought him over to me," she said. "I haven't changed my mind about the rest of the men. But I do see that there may be more to the soup kitchen and the guests than I've been willing to admit," Bonnie confided. "I guess I need some time here to figure it all out." "All of us had to begin somewhere, Bonnie," I replied. "Maybe a place to start is thinking of the guests, volunteers, even the food--the whole soup kitchen--as sharing God's love. I would be glad to listen any-time you want to talk through your frustrations," I said encouragingly. We exchanged a hug. Bonnie gave me a big grin when she left with her friends. As a shelter and soup kitchen director, I found I needed to be teacher, counselor, community organizer, and peacemaker. But there was also a greater need than crisis intervention and social work referral for housing and health care. In the context of providing meals and shel-ter in a church social ministry, people were drawn closer together. They were forced to interact, ask questions, and struggle with conflicting emo-tions and injustices. I saw the need for a guide who had been exposed to the tradition and teachings of spiritual directipn. One who has lived enough of his or her own spiritual journey to be able to recognize oth-ers' struggles and to offer spiritual leadership beyond cooking, cleaning, and begging would be a good job description. Spiritual Development and Social Ministry Antonio, Bonnie, and many others in the soup kitchen have shown me that there is a lot more to hands-on church social ministries than giv-ing out sandwiches, collecting clothes, and providing shelter. I had scarcely been at St. Luke's soup kitchen (Atlanta, Georgia) two months before I realized that volunteers' needs were as critical as those of street people. Having worked with a large number of soup kitchen participants in the last eleven years, ! have seen that they often progress through spiri-tual growth stages. These stages generally correspond to the spiritual de-velopment outlined in the writings of such spiritual masters as St.-Ter-esa of Avila, St. Ignatius, St. Augustine, Thomas Greene, and Bernard Lonergan to name a few. 1. Awakening:3 Soup kitchen volunteers and guests are spiritual seek-ers in much the same way as directees are in spiritual direction. The soup Review for Religious, November-December 1990 kitchen director must establish an atmosphere which nurtures the possi-bility that all participants might be seeking spiritual growth along with advocacy, washing dirty dishes, and consuming numerous cups of sugar-filled coffee. Often the food sought and given is as much spiritual as physi-cal. The social ministry as a community needs to encourage the devel-opment of relationships as brothers and sisters rather than helpers and de-pendents. The Holy Spirit prods us all and no less so in the serving line of a soup kitchen. One of the most frequent comments from new soup kitchen volun-teers is one of surprise. They cannot wait to tell me, "I never knew it would be like this." The new volunteers sometime become so enthusi-astic they want to solve all the social ills and problems at one time. In their hurry to do something, they fail to let the totality of the soup kitchen experience filter into their inner depths. The impact of the similarity be-tween their own lives, hopes, and desires and those of the street people may elude them. Street people would seem to come to a soup kitchen because they need to eat, get out of the rain, or read the newspaper for a job. All of these reasons are usually true. But many also come from spiritual and psychological hunger. They need to be affirmed as human beings. They want friendship and to know that someone cares about them in the midst of their loneliness and alienation. And like everyone else, they have dif-ficulty in asking for what they want. Anger, manipulation, begging, pro-crastination, and even lethargy can mask a more basic plea for the love and compassion that cannot be found on the hostile streets. Casting volunteers and guests as mutual seekers of God's love helps to lessen the artificial line between dependent and provider. However, raising the awareness of both that each has gifts to offer the other may carry some risk. Life in'the streets dictates survival at all costs and is a set of learned behaviors. This might mean guests are immersed in the violence of poverty and substance abuse. Emotional problems, poor so-cialization skills, and mental illness are magnified by the stress of not knowing where the next meal or bed for the night will be found. Volunteers may come to a soup kitchen to play out an unhealthy need to dominate. They may see themselves as rescuer or savior. Volunteers can even burden already embtionally drained street people with their own consuming need for acceptance and love masked by acts of charity. These are reasons enough for soup kitchen managers and volunteers to have some training in lay qgunseling and spiritual direction. Meager funds for supplies and staffing and lack of housing, jobs, and Spiritual Direction in Social Action Ministries services may force participants into a negative emotional drain and the constant crisis of problem-solving. The stereotypes of despair and dis-ease of social distance can be lifted from guests and volunteers. Despite a naive or discouraging beginning, guests and volunteers can progress beyond the initial stage of being locked into a give-and-take, us-versus-them, relationship. The community's life depends on its ability to jug-gle logistical and physical demands with emotional, psychological ones. An awakening to the spiritual life of the soup kitchen for both volunteers and guests is enabled by the continual return to the wellspring of hope, the Holy Spirit. 2. A Hard Look: After the introductory experience, the volunteer usu-ally begins to ask, why? Why are so many people living on the street? Why are the mentally ill and sick not hospitalized? Why am I expected to take care of the lazy? And then, why am I going home to comfort when these people have so little? Why does not somebody do something? This may create conflicted feelings for those who see themselves as car-ing, religious people. The good intentions of even the most dedicated vol-unteer can fade into frustration and resentment. But in spite of these dif-ficulties, questioning becomes the seed of opportunity to widen one's ho-rizons and allow a graced transformation. If questions arise and expectations are challenged for volunteers, they are doubly so for guests. Even the most dejected and apathetic of the poor hold their dignity and self-worth as a jewel more valuable than food or shelter. A bowl of soup or a sandwich firmly thrust back to a surprised volunteer will attest to a guest's rejection of real or imagined insensitivity. While many long-term street residents have given up ques-tioning injustices or reasons for their meager living, just as many will talk for as long as anyone will listen to a recollection of past slights, in-dignities, or woes. We all need to tell our stories. And once in awhile, some thought-provoking wisdom and insights can be the reward of the patiently attentive volunteer. The volunteer's emotional struggle with the realities of soup kitchen and street people can be everything from threatening to enlightening. Con-fronted with painful feelings, the need for empathy with guests, respon-sibility, and sometimes guilt, some soup kitchen volunteers turn away. They seek other ways to express an option for the poor. Others find ex-cuses to reject the homeless. They blame the victim. Barriers may be erected; barriers of power disguised as benevolent decision-making and anger as righteous indignation. Still other volunteers begin to realize the humanity and humility they share with all peopl+ as children of God. The Review for Religious, November-December 1990 same compassion that emerges from questioning and consciousness-raising impels these volunteers to seek a deeper understanding and ex-perience of the wounded Christ-of-the-streets. 3. Judging--the Bottom Line: Volunteers who persevere join the regu-lars in the social ministry community. They adopt a favorite job or rou-tine of doing the various daily tasks. They come to accept the dilemma of soup kitchens and street life as having no comfortable answers nor neat solutions. Success becomes enough soup or sandwiches for a day's meal, finding eyeglasses for a guest who needs them for work, or locat-ing temporary housing for a young family with children. Old hands be-come well acquainted with the idiosyncrasies of particular guests. Friend-ships develop. New, bewildered guests are shepherded through the soup kitchen routine which has over time become the bricks-and-mortar of daily operation. Success in social change is also expected. Volunteers point with pride to street people who attain middle-class goals: jobs, apartments, sobriety, and normalcy. Experienced volunteers begin to draw parallels with some of Jesus' teachings and parables: the Good Shepherd, those who are last will be first, and workers paid equally for differing times of service. More enthusiastic volunteers may take on the task of main-taining the organization with fund-raising and building renovation proj-ects. The disparity between the homeless people who remain jobless, clothed in rags, and in need of food and shelter and coworkers and fam-ily who enjoy a more comfortable lifestyle is less a focus than getting the job done. Many of the poor who have lived on and off the streets are way ahead of new volunteers in a spirituality of detachment and interior search-ing. Destitute and lacking the basic necessities of food and shelter, they. are forced to fall back on inner resources. Some street survivors exhibit an inner depth of understanding and resilient wisdom of Jesus as Libera-tor. They reflect an unshakable faith and contemplative spirituality. I sometimes wish I could be as in touch with my dark side as they seem to be. However just as often, incredible stress, fear of violence, and physi-cal and mental deprivation block the development of these means to over-come depression and despair. The rhythm of daily life of the soup kitchen community rises and falls with the extreme heat of summer, winter cold, Friday paydays, and surplus holiday charity. Volunteers and guests come and go. When guests do not meet expectations of a middle-class work-ethic or a period of sobriety or mental stability ends, volunteers may become discouraged Spiritual Direction in Social Action Ministries and leave to find greener pastures and better shepherds. But the very rest-lessness that seems to hinder an inner, spiritual examination is also an invitation to challenge preconceived ideas of what is success in a social ministry. The soup kitchen and night shelter offer daily opportunities to let go of cultural or popular false standards of guests' worthiness. 4. Light from Darkness: Volunteers who get beyond the questioning stage and embrace the compunction that follows a realization of their so-cial and inner blindness witness to an enlightened conversion. Their pri-orities change. They begin to view themselves, their families and friends, churches and institutions, and most of all, the guests, with changed hearts and minds. Ragged clothes, disagreeable behaviors, and unwashed bodies fade from importance. Guests are no longer bums and derelicts but James, Mary, and Charlie. "I've been given so much more than I could ever give" is the comment most often heard. This social conversion is possible because participants have experi-enced nurturing community with other volunteers and guests. They have shared in the applied collective wisdom of spiritual guides and masters conveyed by effective social ministry managers and leaders. The soup kitchen manager/spiritual director must focus on community building that encourages everyone processing through the four steps of spiritual growth. After facing the disheartening reality of streetlife poverty and violence, volunteers and guests come to realize through the attentive di-rection of experienced ministry leaders that their only meaningful re-sponse must be one of being as well as doing. Social ministry teachers can model a definition of being that elimi-nates the artificial yardsticks that manipulate and shape people's lives in ways our Creator never intended. Being comes to mean accepting the brother or sister, volunteer or guest, who chooses self-defeat or an un-sympathetic and often critical, closed mind. And most of all, being means seeking the Psalmist's humble and contrite heart in the midst of rejection and the temptation to put distance between self and other. A simple illustration is the end piece from a loaf of bread. Uniniti-ated volunteers might toss the heel into the trash without a second thought. Seasoned veterans however, make use of every scrap by turn-ing the heel outward. They remember lean days of not enough bread for the many sandwiches needed. They have seen men, women, and even children go hungry. Not only are they grateful for our daily bread but they appreciate their own helplessness in the face of grinding poverty and suffering. These volunteers have come to see God face-to-face in the eyes of the poor. Every gift of Creation has become precious to them. Review for Religious, November-December 1990 This is only one of many daily lessons the soup kitchen community can teach and the conscientious director can encourage. Success in the soup kitchen is God's gift to define and to give. Bib-lical personhood and scriptural freedom empower a realization of our need to be vulnerable to each other. We bring all we are, past and pres-ent, to the soup kitchen serving line. Through our relationships, our hearts are stirred to question and search our inner selves and to reach out to our neighbors as to God.4 After finally co.ming to understand and em-l~ race Jesus' meaning of Go.spel poverty, the point of conversion for the social ministry activist becomes the same as the contemplative/directee: the unitive experience. Antonio and Bonnie taught me through their searching and struggle that social ministry can be as much a place of spiritual seeking and guid-ance as my experience of spiritual direction. I saw that people in soup kitchens and shelters were asking for what spiritual direction had to of-fer. God's love for us and desire to be with us through the gift of Son and Spirit is the eternal constant. Our task as both spiritual directors and spiritual guides in social ministries is to be willing to struggle for con-tinued openness and vulnerability to that gift brought to us by guests and volunteers. Soup Kitchen Managers and Spiritual Directors The previous illustrations invite practical ways to integrate action and contemplation, the personal and the social, in soup kitchens and spiri-tual direction. The work of both soup kitchen manager and spiritual di-rector is a good example of the interconnection of spirituality and spiri-tual direction with social ministry. Volunteers and street people usually do not ask for spiritual direction from soup kitchen managers. And di-rectees do not often associate social ministry with their prayer life un-less encouraged to do so by their spiritual directors. But hunger of the heart and searching for God's love and guidance pervade both environ- I am suggesting that soup kitchen managers and spiritual directors must examine the opposite side of their area of expertise to lead to a more balanced ministry and to be more open to God's promise for justice and mercy. However, social ministry managers need not become spiritual di-rectors nor directors, soup kitchen managers. The interactions between a soup kitchen manager, volunteers, and street persons are not the same as those in spiritual direction or intervention. The methods of social min-istry organization and management, schools of spirituality (Ignatian, Fran-ciscan, Carmelite, Augustinian), socio-political thought, and even life Spiritual Direction in Social Action Ministries goals for directees, volunteers, and street people may vary widely. But these two activities have more similar than dissimilar aspects. Identifying the importance of spiritual direction and social action as part of an integrated whole in both ministries is the concern of effective managers and directors. The issue is the recognition of the reciprocal con-nection between the two ministries. The question is not whether the soup kitchen responds first to physical or spiritual needs. Nor is it whether con-templative prayer or an awareness of social consciousness predominate in spiritual direction. There are several points where spiritual direction and social mifiistry coincide: A. Holy Spirit: Our ministries and our lives must flow from Holy Scripture and the indwelling Spirit of Christ. The guidance of the Holy Spirit must always be foremost in our own paths and our involvement in the journeys of others. Discernment of that guidance is discovered in community with others in both individual spiritual direction and in so-cial activities such as soup kitchens. We need to support and nourish each other in our experience of and search for God's gift of love. B. Purpose and Goals: Any spiritual director will admit that before a working relationship can be established with a directee, a determina-tion of what the directee desires from direction must be explored. The goals and purpose of direction must flow from the life, prayer, and ex-periences of the directee. A soup kitchen is no different. On the surface, the purpose may seem to be distribution of food, social work, a sympa-thetic ear, and hopefully, the strength to go on another day. But the mo-tivations of the volunteers, manager, and street people in the soup kitchen community must be considered as important and basic as pro-viding soup, sandwiches, and even friendship. Unconscious messages about worthiness, authority, manipulation, and social statements can creep into the daily life of any hands-on social ministry or spiritual direction relationship. We must be clear in what we are about as helping people and .as concerned, activist communities to-ward those who seek direction or bread. The consequences can be the perpetuation of the suffering and oppression of the poor, a hindrance of the spiritual unfolding and growth of direct.ees, and a floundering for guid-ance by volunteers and workers. The ministry can become part of an on-going or potential problem instead of an instrument of God's peace. Openness to seeing God in my neighbor is fostered by encouraging healthy interaction between guests and volunteers. Joint meetings of both provide insights for planning, alleviate misunderstandings, and build com-munity among participants. Goals clarification and the scriptural basis Review for Religious, November-December 1990 or theme of the soup kitchen needs to be discussed and reiterated through training sessions with volunteers and in meetings with volunteers and guests. Quarterly soup kitchen orientations can offer the opportunity to learn communication and listening skills, positive ways to vent anger and frustration, and sharing feelings of sadness and pain. Attention to detail can encourage the mandates of the Gospel good news, peace and justice for the people of God. Trained volunteers who mingle ';vith guests during mealtimes can facilitate a calm release of the pain, rejection, and dehumanization of street life. Colorful banners do-nated by supporting churches or made in guest/volunteer sessions help to illustrate and affirm the soup kitchen's scriptural themes, such as the Good Shepherd, Matthew 25, and the Bread of Life. Seasonal celebra-tions, monthly birthday recognition, and encouraging on-site social ser-vices help to foster a family-oriented environment. We must live what we believe especially when becoming open to an awareness of the real-ity of the peace and justice of Jesus. C. Street People and Directees: People who live on the streets in ab-ject poverty are God's children in crisis. The wounded, hungry bodies that line up each day for food are also wounded spirits who directly or indirectly seek the fellowship that feeds the heart. All participants in the social ministry community, volunteers, staff, and street people, need to be aware of and be sensitive to the friendship needs as well as physical needs of the other members. The requirement goes both ways amongst volunteers and guests. Soup kitchen managers can no more ignore the Gospel good news of empowerment for the poor than can a spiritual di-rector become heavy-handed with advice and admonitions for the di-rectee. This sensitivity is necessary if everyone is going to move beyond lim-iting their efforts to subsistence needs and toward the mandate of Jesus, friendship, peace, and justice. Tho.ugh the goal of personal and commu-nal empowerment of poor people may seem distant and unobtainable, it is our Bethlehem star. If we do not keep in our awareness and striving the justice promised by God and echoed by Mary in her song, the Mag-nificat, our ministry, faith, and words will become St. Paul's metaphor, the clanging cymbal. The guidance and leadership for discernment to-warc~ this justice most often falls to the manager and spiritual director. Likewise, with directees, the spiritual director has a responsibility to dispel the myth of our tradition that the experience of God and the love of Christ can be a personal, private affair.5 The totality of a graced, trans-formed life is not for the benefit of the directee. St. Teresa of Avila re- Spiritual Direction in Social Action Ministries / ~1"15 minded us that we are meant to be the eyes, hands, and feet of Jesus in the world today. The Center for Spirituality and Justice has demonstrated a social-consciousness aspect to spiritual direction that must be part of the journey of director and directee if there is to be true discernment of .God's will~6 D. Volunteers: Church social ministries can be an extension of Je-sus' example to share ourselves and the fruits of the earth, food, shelter, and resources, with those in need. A deeper responsibility and outgrowth of the working of God's grace in everyone's life is stretching out a physi-cal and spiritual hand in friendship and unity. But for many middle-class volunteers who have never experienced the poverty, degradation, and suffering of those who live on the streets, a first-time exposure can be unnerving and challenging to their comfortable lives. Street people are not the only soup kitchen participants who experi-ence emotional crisis. Seeing firsthand the suffering and dehumanization of street life, many volunteers are distraught when they connect their rela-tively comfortable lives with the misery of homeless people. When food, clothing, an offer to listen, or a smile is refused with unkind words, vol-unteers may feel confused, rejected or angry. A misunderstanding be-tween guest and volunteer can result in "yes" instead of "no" as the answer to an inappropriate query. Just as street people bring their emotional baggage in the front door, volunteers can unload psychological traumas, too. Unresolved sexual needs, psychotic disorders, substance abuse, and authoritarian domi-nance can cause serious problems in the soup kitchen, community. Even though volunteers' emotional issues can't be compared to the sufferings of street people, a soup kitchen manager having some training in lay coun-seling and spiritual direction is helpful for the emotional and spiritual di-lemmas faced by volunteers and guests. For the social ministry manager just as for the spiritual director, their own spiritual direction and a peer group providing support, wisdom, and guidance needs to be part of the organization of the ministry. E. Leadership: Managers and Directors: The relationship between a soup kitchen manager and volunteer or street person is not identical to that of a spiritual director and a directee'. However, the responsibilities of the manager and director in regard to the spiritual foundations of their work with others and their own spiritual journey are so similar that com-parisons can be made. If a soup kitchen 6r.any social ministry is not to become a sterile institution, the guidelines or working plan of operation must be thoughtfully and prayerfully discussed and discerned over time. Review for Religious, November-December 1990 "What is God's will for me" in spiritual direction is parallel to and comparable with "What is God's will for us, volunteers and street peo-ple," in a soup kitchen. The spiritual director and the direction relation-ship provide the backdrop against which the directee wrestles with his or her issues in listening to a loving God. Likewise, the basic rules and logistics of feeding hundreds of people daily must be wrestled with so that dignity and the love we show each other are not compromised using the excuse ofjoblessness, smelly clothes, or efficacy in operation. While including the poor and powerless in decision-making roles can be threat-ening, it is the fulfillment of Jesus' Good News. The soup kitchen manager and the spiritual director are responsible not for the success of the kitchen, the progress of the directee, or even determining what connotes that success or progress. One who seeks to lead must be a follower; a manager or director must create an environ- " ment whereby volunteers, street people, and directees seek their own spiri-tual journey with support and guidance for discernment of God's will for them. The outward emphasis may differ from soup kitchen to spiritual direction but for the director and the manager, the spiritual task is the same. Conclusion There is value in drawing parallels in principle and practicality be-tween contemplative spirituality, spiritual direction and social conscious-ness, and the theological and spiritual organization of social ministries. Flexibility and imagination are necessary to compare the leadership and organizational abilities of a soup kitchen manager with the skills and train-ing of a spiritual director. We can show that the experiences of the vol-unteers and street people can follow a pattern of spiritual development. And directees and their spiritual directors can explore the social as well as personal experience of the Holy Spirit in their lives. In the face of violence, learned dependency, ignorance, and biased prejudices, hearts and minds as yet unawakened are waiting for the power of God's transforming grace: Spiritual direction and social min-istry are not two journeys originating from disparate starting points. Each of these spiritual paths flows from the other and back to nourish those who find themselves to be both contemplative and activist. Spiritual Direction in Social Action Ministries NOTES i D. Bernsweiger, D. McCarty, and L. Rhodes, Eds. Spirituality, Ministry, and Field Education: Theological Field Education, Key Resources, Vol. V. (San Francisco: Assn. for Theological Field Education, 1986), p. 52. Research by the Center for Spiri-tuality and Justice, Bronx, New York, on spiritual direction and social conscious-ness. "Social consciousness" as based on Peter Henriot's, (S.J.) thesis that the re-ality of the human person must take into account the individual, interpersonal, and public dimensions of human existence (p. 5 I). A person is simultaneously engaged in intense intrapersonal activity and consciousness, ongoing interpersonal relation-ships, and living out her or his life within a set of established and defined structures and institutions in the societal area (p. 52). 2 St. Teresa of Avila, The Collected Works of St. Teresa ofAvila: Vol. One, trans. Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. and Otilio Rodriguez, O.C.D. (Washington, D.C. : ICS Pubs., 1976), p. 125. 3 Bernard Lonergan, Method in Theology. (New York: Seabury Press, 1972), pp. 8- 20. The four stages of enlightenment for soup kitchen participants is based on Lon-ergan's transcendental method. '~ Karl Rahner, "Reflections on the Unity of the Love of Neighbor and the Love of God." Theological Reflections, Vol. VI. (New York: Seabury Press, 1971), p. 232, p. 239. 5 lbid, pp. 242-244, 246. 6 Bernsweiger, McCarty, and Rhodes, pp. 53-54. Morning Office Here in my house of silence I stand beside you, Zachary. The song you cannot sing Trembles on your lips;. My song Pours in wordless rivers From quiet eyes. We stand together Lonely, waiting to sing Our canticle. Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B. St. Scholastica Priory 7430 North Ridge Chicago, Illinois 60645 Living Our Liberation Through Justice and Spirituality Linda Rich, C.D.P. Sister Linda Rich, C. D. P., is a graduate of the Institute of Pastoral Studies at" Loyola University of Chicago. She currently works as part of the administrative team of NET-WORK, a national Catholic social justice lobby in Washington, D.C. Her address is 806 Rhode Island Avenue, NE; Washington, D.C. 20018. In the past one hundred years, and more vocally in recent years, part of the Christian community is specifically addressing social problems through systemic and structural analysis and applying Christian value prin-ciples to these problems (for example poverty, war). In the North Ameri-can and European culture, theologians, bishops, and the Vatican are do-ing this analysis and reflection by developing social ethics and a large written corpus of Catholic social teaching. In other cultures, Christians are interested in finding ways to make the Gospel real through experiencing liberation from injustice. This in-dicates that the developing social ethics need a lived reality, an experi-enced spirituality if we, as a whole community of the People of Go~l, are to respond to this recovered Gospel of social justice. That void is now being filled in and fleshed out. The writers and think-ers in the fields of spirituality and social justice are beginning to coa-lesce, to meet on mutual ground. Liberation theologians are now writ-ing about the spirituality of liberation: for example, Spirituality of Libera-tion: Toward Political Holiness, Jon Sobrino, Orbis Books, 1988, and The Way of Living Faith: A Spirituality of Liberation, Segundo Galilea, Harper & Row, 1988. North American spirituality writers are now speak-ing of how spirituality is intimately linked with social transformation: for example, Social Re~,elation: Profound Challenge for Christian Spiritu- 818 Living Our Liberation Through Justice and Spirituality ality, James E. Hug, S.J. and Rose Marie Scherschel, Center of Con-cern, 1987, and Spirituality and Liberation, Robert McAfee Brown, West-minster Press, 1988. Grass-roots movements within the Christian community are also bring-ing spirituality and justice together. The Catholic Worker movement con-cretely lives out social spirituality as envisaged by Dorothy Day and Pe-ter Maurin more than fifty years ago. They feed the hungry and welcome the homeless, while at the same time challenge the social structures that create this reality. As such, they speak against the national budget pri-orities for weapons instead of a priority for food and housing, for exam-ple. They are joined with others in the peace movement, the feminist/ women's movement, and the racial and economic equality movements, which all have collectives of people who are motivated and sustained in this activity by the Christian call to discipleship and by other spiritual values and beliefs. While these manifestations of justice spirituality are all happening within the Christian community, the message of the social justice dimen-sions of spirituality have not yet been carried into the mainstream, how-ever. A new theology and practice of spirituality needs to be unfolded, articulated, and fostered in the Christian community-at-large. A new un-derstanding of how spirituality is, and needs to be, vitally connected with justice will then begin to emerge for the average Catholic in the pew. Donal Dorr comments: "Perhaps the most effective way in which the Church can influence human behavior is by promoting a particular kind of spirituality." ~ Personal and Social Transformation Spirituality and social justice are closely related, both being trans-formative processes. Spirituality, as I am using it here, is our process of personal transformation. Through spiritual practices (meditation, prayer, liturgical ritual) and through the living out of the fruits of these in our lives, we become better persons, more loving, more congruent with the values we profess. We grow and mature as persons and become psychologically and spiritually integrated. Justice is the process of bringing social groups into right relation-ships with each other. It is the transformation of legal or violent enforce-ment of the domination of one group of people over another (men over women, rich over poor, one race over another). Justice transforms domi-nant/ submissive relationships into partnerships.2 Oppressive violence is transformed into peace and freedom when justice is present. Both justice and spirituality are journeys into freedom, moving from 820/Review for Religious, November-December 1990 being bound to a more free state. There is movement from being en-slaved by forces outside our control to having choices about our lives. This movement happens (and power is shifted) by our being able and will-ing to take up the struggle for freedom and undergo the suffering re-quired. "There is no transformation of person or society without suf-fering, and the suffering which brings about such change is truly re-demptive.' ,3 And so, it is very important to discern and determine which particular path leads to greater life through death and which path leads to dead ends, defeat, and a conquered death. Each choice, whether stay-ing with things as they are or choosing for change, has its own risks and consequences. These must be carefully considered. And as in any authen-tic journey, there are risks and perils along the way. Courage, persever-ance, and support from others are required for both the personal and so-cial transformative journeys. We can see some parallels between justice and spirituality. There is also an integrity present that is often missed. Both are needed in con-junction with each other to have true justice and true spirituality. This is so because either of these in isolation from the other is destructive. Historical examples include the way the Church sometimes has pro-moted an escapist spirituality which accepted injustice for other operat-ing benefits by the political powers that be. On the other hand, in socie-ties that have repressed spirituality and religion, great violence has been done in the name of social equality. This also plays itself out within the Christian community where division is created, with splits of "devout" and "activist" factions who distrust each other. Experience shows that spirituality and social justice are a graced dynamic, and split off from each other render both ineffective, irrelevant, and destructive. When these two are integrated, however, the world and the Chris-tian community are graced with life-giving energies. There are many ex-amples in our North American experience. Pax Christi, a Catholic peace organization, uses a threefold approach of prayer, study, and action, com-bining the elements of spirituality and activism. They are in the forefront of efforts to promote a vow of nonviolence, a wonderful way of rooting a committed life of peace within a rich spiritual tradition. The commu-nity of Sojourners (Washington, DC), as part of the Christian evangeli-cal tradition, ministers through their monthly publication, neighborhood organizations, justice resources, and organizing national days of prayer and nonviolent resistance. NETWORK is a national Catholic social jus-tice lobby that attempts to influence the formation of public policy in the interest of the poor and powerless. It lobbies members of Congress to Living Our Liberation Through Justice and Spirituality enact laws providing access to economic resources, fairness in national funding, and justice in global relationships, Another facet of the relationship of personal and social transforma-tion is that these two are not necessarily simultaneous or synonymous; one does not automatically follow the other. A liberation scholar states it this way: Social change by itself does not create a new person, in the same way that transforming persons do not automatically induce a new social or-der. The creation of a new person and a new social order takes place within a dialectical interaction.4 So we can see that a conscious link needs to be made between our spiri-tual growth as transforming persons and our justice work of transform-ing society, or that link will not be made. Some people who invest time and money in the human potential move-ment for personal psychological and spiritual growth make the social con-nections beyond themselves, and some do not. Those who fail to con-nect their personal growth to a wider social vision will probably become shortsighted, turned in on themselves (stunted), and "whistling in the dark while the world goes to hell in a hand basket." Likewise, some so-cial activists who spend tremendous amounts of personal time and en-ergy organizing campaigns for justice do so from the fruits of their spiri-tual growth, and some do not. Those who fail to connect to a spiritual source will probably fall victim to burnout, cynicism, and self-righteous-ness. It is essential, I think, to recognize the inherent integrity of spiritu-ality and social justice within a "both/and" holistic framework. Too often they have been split apart, to the detriment of both. This dichot-omy needs to be healed and is being healed in the coming age. Conversion and Social Liberations In my experience, the education and consciousness-raising of justice work begins to effect a real transformation process in individuals, and in groups of people. This journey of transformation and liberation is one of conversion, a qualitative change, a living of life in new ways. Con-version (whether religious, intellectual, individual, or social), involves a three-part process of !) dying to the old, 2) an in-between period, and 3) a new orientation. Initially we feel confusion and conflict, we experience a resultant in-ability to continue living as we have been, and we know the need to find ~199 / Review for Religious, November-December 1990 new ways of living. Once this process is entered into, things will never be quite the same again. (You cannot put the toothpaste back in the tube.) We find that we may creep slowly or may suddenly leap into a different frame of reference. We are brought into a whole new level of relating-- with a social consciousness~to God, to ourselves, and to others. Albert Nolan describes our growth into social consciousness in four stages.6 (He addresses this to the specific problem of poverty, though the principles can be applied in regard to other oppressed groups of people as well, it seems to me.) The first stage is characterized by our compas-sion, brought about by exposure through experience or information re-garding the sufferings of the poor. This compassion is generally ex-pressed in two kinds of action: relief work (distributing food and alms-giving), and simplification of lifestyle (voluntary poverty). The second stage is entered when we acknowledge the structural prob-lems as social in.justice. Things are the way they are because social struc-tures are set up to serve the interests of some people over others. Anger and guilt may arise when we become aware that poverty is largely a re-sult of oppression. Now our charity of the first stage is joined by justice in the second; both are necessary. In the third stage, we join humility with service to the poor. We need the poor for our liberation, also, and often we are unaware of the gifts they are and have for us. It is this humility (owning our own poverty) that tempers our "doing for the poor" into befriending them. At the same time, one hazard here is to put the poor/working class on a pedes-tal, to idealize them into something they are not. This can lead to disil-lusionment, disappointment, and burnout when we discover the illusion of our own making. The fourth and last stage is one of.real solidarity. This is the experi-ence of recognizing the faults and weaknesses of the poor as well as of ourselves, and at the same time, knowing that we can be on the same side against oppression. Now we experience the struggle of liberation to-gether. The second major aspect is that social consciousness is an essential part of conversion, not the results of it. Socioeconomic life is not a corollary to our relationship with God. It is not simply the arena in which conversion and love of God flow out into love of neighbor--if God so leads us. Social concern and work for jus-tice are not just the outgrowths of Christian conversion. Prayerful involve-ment in socioeconomic life and reflection on it are prerequisites to know-ing and relating intimately with God, not the results of it.7 Living Our Liberation Through Justice and Spirituality/ This concept is rife with implications for the i~ntegration of social con-sciousness into our spiritual life. If we discern God's revelation to us ex-clusively in our interior movements (within ourselves), then "we receive only a partial, distorted image of God. We are ignoring part of the reve-lation of God. We run the danger of fostering, . . a selfless, dedicated and energetic service of the status quo with aH its unjust institutions."8 Our spirituality, without the social revelation component, will most likely, though unwittingly, serve the continuance of injustice. A third connection between conversion and the transformative pro-cess of justice is the image of liberation for the spiritual process. Rather than relying exclusively on the traditional image of union and intimacy with God for spiritual growth,9 we may well include "conversion as lib-eration" as a complementary image. For truly all conversion is a liber-ating experience from our false selves and an enlivening and freeing ex-perience of our true selves. As the image of spiritual union speaks to the part in each of us that seeks attachment, belonging, and inclusion, the image of liberation speaks to the part in each of us that seeks freedom and autonomy. For people who are victims of others and/or society, for people who feel enslaved interiorly by addictions or by life circumstances, this lib-eration process imaged and named as such can be a tremendous motiva-tion and empowerment for change in personal and spiritual development and for social activism. Paul proclaims: "The world itself will be freed from its slavery to corruption and share in the glorious freedom of the children of God" (Rm 8:21). Implications A great challenge lies before us. World crises every day remind us of how fragile and precarious our planet and our common situation is as human beings. We can deny and numb ourselves to this reality. We can let it in and live in despair and be crushed by it. Or we can forge new ways of living, "ministering to the breakthrough" (as named by Pat and Gerald Mische of Global Education Associates) of a surviving and just world. Members of religious congregations can be in the forefront of this breakthrough, on the prophetic cutting edge a's it were. We have a pub-lic role in the Christian community and many congregations are interna-tional. More than one congregation now has Non-Governmental Organ-izational (NGO) status at the United Nations. These and other innovative ways to minister to the breakthrough can be communally explored and implemented. Though each congregation faces the lack of personnel and 8241 Review for Religious, November-December 1990 finances in a different way, we can continue to be supportive of those people and organizations that integrate faith and justice. The integration of spirituality and justice is a key component of min-istering to the breakthrough. It requires a change in thinking as well as in acting, in theory as well as in praxis. Only the combined strength of the theory and practice of spirituality and justice will carry us through into the future. NOTES ~ Donal Dorr, Option for the Poor: A Hundred Years of Vatican Social Teaching (Ma-ryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books, 1983), p. 59. 2 Riane Eisler, The Chalice and the Blade: Our History, Our Future (San Francisco, CA: Harper & Row, 1987), pp. 198-203. This shift is elaborated on in depth here. 3 Carolyn Osiek, R.S.C.J., Beyond Anger: On Being a Feminist in the Church (Mah-weh, N.J.: Paulist Press, 1986), p. 83. '~ lsmael Garcia, Justice in Latin American Theology of Liberation (Atlanta, Geor-gia: John Knox Press, 1987), p. 80. 5 See Osiek, Beyond Anger, p. 44-63, for an insightful development of conversion and transformation in a liberation context. 6 Albert Nolan, O.P., "Spiritual Growth and the Option for the Poor," Church (Bal-timore, MD: National Pastoral Life Center, 1985), Spring issue. 7 James E. Hug, S.J., and Rose Marie Scherschel, Social Revelation: Profound Chal-lenge for Christian Spirituality, (Washington, D.C. : Center of Concern, 1987), pp. 22-23. 8 Ibid, p. 23. 9 In Francis Kelly Nemeck, O.M.I. and Maria Theresa Coombs, The Spiritual Jour-ney: Critical Thresholds and Stages of Adult Spiritual Genesis (Wilmington, Dela-ware: Michael Glazier, 1987), union and intimacy image is used throughout. Spirituality of Liberation Peter G. van Breemen, S.J. Father Peter G. van Breemen, S.J., author of well-known books such as As Bread That Is Broken and Called By Name, has most recently been serving as Jesuit tertian director in Berlin. His address is Peter-Faber-Kolleg; Postfach 220018; Am Schwemmborn 3a; D-1000 Berlin (Kladow); West Germany. Much is being said and written nowadays about Theology of Liberation. The deliberate alteration to Spirituality of Liberation suggests a shift to-wards a less controversial and a more meditative approach. Spirituality The word spirituality stems from spirit. In the Old Testament it re-fers to the ruach as the divine source of human life, and in the New Tes-tament to the active presence of the Holy Spirit in our everyday personal and communal life, where it renders our faith concrete in our actions and behavior. The word spirituality also intimates that life has come to a cer-tain harmony and synthesis: what could remain a fairly objective and sometimes even abstract doctrine has become a source of life and inspi-ration; it has become integrated and operative. Spirituality is lived in the community and becomes fruitful within it, since the Spirit 'is given pri-marily to the community, and to the individual only in the community. So much about the first word of our title. Liberation The word liberation has generally more political overtones than the related word redemption. When Gustavo Gutti6rrez coined the expres-sion "Theology of Liberation" and used it as the title of his book (Lima, 1972), and when a number of his Latin American colleagues took over this expression, they wanted to make redemption more down-to-earth 826/Review for Religious, November-December 1990 and more relevant for the struggle for life. There should be no real doubt that the theologians of liberation want to articulate the Christian faith-- drawn from Scripture, received from Jesus Christ, and handed on through the Catholic Church---even though the Instruction of the Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith "On Certain Aspects of the 'Theology of Liberation,' " published in 1984, had a number of criti-cal remarks and even though one of its leading theologians (Leonardo Boff) was silenced for a year. In fact, that very Instruction plus another one of March 22, 1986 basically approve and praise the Theology of Lib-eration. It is not surprising that the rapid development of the Theology of Lib-eration in the last two decades has led to a variety of meanings of the word liberation. What unites, however, all the different schools of lib-eration theology is that--in various ways--they are all inspired by and support a movement, a dynamic, in which the poor and the underprivi-leged draw strength from their faith to fight for their dignity and against unfair exploitation. The heart of the Theology of Liberation is to be found in this movement; it is lived before it is articulated. Undoubtedly this theology (and this movement) began in Latin America, but it is equally certain that they are to be found in other parts of the world as well, like the Philippines, South Africa (Kairos document), India (State-ment of the Indian Theological Association), and other countries. What these countries have in common is obviously their great need for libera-tion, but also that Christianity is fairly recent there. Quite often, with a touch of humor, the Church in these countries is compared with a young woman, hardly twenty years old, in which comparison the Church in Europe is portrayed as an elderly lady. Along with their youth, these Churches also stress their vigor and their hope. It is a little touchy, though not unfair and not disrespectful, when they describe the climate in the European churches as winter and in theirs as spring. Let me just conclude from these remarks that a spirituality of liberation and the di-vine virtue of hc~pe go together. Pope Pius XI (1922-1939) was the first Pope tostress the place of indigenous churches. In 1926 he consecrated in St. Peter's in Rome six Chinese bishops, the first non-white bishops since the early Church. That is less than seventy-five years ago! Whereas all the Fathers of the First Vatican Council (1869-1870) were natives of Europe or North America, the Second Vatican Council gave a completely different picture. Thus it is not surprising that Vatican II speaks highly of the variety of local churches with "their own discipline, their own liturgical usage, and their Spirituality of Liberation own theological and spiritual heritage" (Lumen Gentium 23). "The Chair of Peter, it is said, protects legitimate differences, while at the same time it sees that such differences do not hinder unity, but rather con-tribute to it" (LG 13). Though not without friction and pain, this shift of the center of gravity from the Western world towards other continents goes on speedily. The prognostic indicates that in the year 2000 thirty percent of the world's Catholics will live in Europe and North America, and seventy percent in the southern hemisphere (that is, Latin America, Africa, Asia, and Oceania). We live on the eve of a new equilibrium of the Church. One sign of this is that non-western schools of theological reflection arise. They form a challenge and offer a chance. They can en-rich the people of God immensely. Covenant In a spirituality of liberation, the covenant plays a vital role-- indeed, the covenant is the very origin of our liberation. This may sound rather paradoxical, since covenant denotes a bond that binds us, which looks like the exact opposite of liberation that sets us free. Yet, Sacred Scripture is basically the long story of human liberation, precisely be-cause it is the history of the Covenant of God with his people--first with the Jewish people in the Old Testament and later in the New Testament with all God's people. From the bond of this covenant true freedom springs. This brings home to us the important truth that freedom in the Bible is not unbound, arbitrary, individualistic or irresponsible. Freedom does not mean that one can do what one likes; on the contrary, truly free per-sons are not governed by likes and dislikes, but act according to their inner convictions and conscience--in short, their true self. Freedom im-plies honesty and courage, transparency and authenticity, maturity and responsibility. Sometimes God is called the deepest Ground of our being. Even though the expression may be rather recent, the idea is not new at all. The classic phrase of St. Augustine "God is closer to me than I am to myself" says basically the same thing. If God is the deepest Ground of our being, then it is only in union with him that we can be our true selves and act freely. God is not constraining, but it is only in and through him that we come to life and freedom. Modern psychology confirms this view. It is only in a basic trust in another person (normally the mother) that the child reaches self-confidence. It is only in the security which the mother gives to the child that the latter finds the courage and even the ability to reach out. The 828/Review for Religious, November-December 1990 greater the confidence in its parents, the more open the child will be. What we can observe very clearly in children reveals a characteristic which remains through the whole of life. A person who is secure in the love of someone else can afford to go out into the ever widening space of life and to respond to the world's ever growing challenges. True freedom is the fruit of true love which one has experienced and/ or is still experiencing. I shall not dwell on the sad and often tragic as-pects of the counterpart of these psychological data, but rather state that for me these psychological insights point to God as the ultimate fulfill-ment of our basic need. Of course, I am aware that I make a jump from the level of psychological experiences to the level of faith. I am not try-ing to prove anything, only to suggest and to hint. It is in the covenant that God gives his chosen people the security we are talking about. "I shall be your God and you shall be my peo-ple" is God's summary of the covenant. God binds himself to his peo-ple; he is their support and guarantee. In doing so, he invites the people to bind themselves to him in faithful obedience. When the people accept this invitation, the bond of the covenant is the basis of their freedom. At an early stage of the Jewish history this mighty care of God as the origin of their freedom is exemplified in the exodus from the slavery in Egypt. In fact, one can say that the Exodus is the beginning of the Jews as a nation; up until that moment they were no more than a gang of slaves, who were exploited in unbearably hard forced labor (Ex 2:23). It is in the miraculous event of their liberation from Egypt and their pas-sage through the Sea of Reeds that they become a people. God reveals himself as their God, their liberator, the origin of their national identity. From generation to generation they keep celebrating the marvel of their liberation as the outstanding evidence of the covenant. It is in the context of this liberation from slavery that God reveals his name: Yahweh. Volumes have been written about the meaning of these four Hebrew letters, yet the scholarly research of centuries remains inconclusive. Is it a sign of God's transcendence or of his sense of hu-mor (or of both) that his name remains mysterious in its being revealed? So much seems certain that the name Yahweh is existentially a boundlessly affirming word and intellectually just as boundlessly com-prehensive (that is, not to be grasped). He is there, absolutely reliable and absolutely incomprehensible. In their exodus the Jewish people have experienced their God, whom they gradually discover to be the God of all nations and of all creation. In their exodus they have learned that God hears the cry of the poor and takes their side. We meet here the begin- Spirituality of Liberation ning of a strand that runs through the whole of Scripture, stressing God's care for the poor and the needy, the orphan and the widow. Eventually this will lead to some sort of identification of God with the weak and the little, for example, Psalm 91:15 and Matthew 25:40, 45. In their exodus it was also brought home to them that Yahweh works through people: God. has no hands but ours; compare Exodus 3:8 with 3: 10. In their history with Yahweh they discover that he is "always greater." That is indeed a very pertinent characteristic of God. No mat-ter how great we think of him, he is always greater. No matter how much we have experienced of him, he remains always greater. That keeps us always on the move in our relation with God. The chief expression for human life in Hebrew means: to wander, to travel, to hike. The early Christians called themselves "the people of the way." Thus the exodus is a basic distinction of true religion, not an exodus once and for all, but ever so often repeated. And so freedom is not only the fruit of our exo-dus, but also its prerequisite, Liberty is both gift and demand. That is to say how much our faith is a religion of liberation. In apostolic reli-gious life unconditional pliability with respect to the will of God which can never be predicted and never be fixed takes shape in a continually adaptable apostolic availability. Paschal Mystery So far the name of Jesus has not been mentioned. It is in him that God became incarnate; it is in him that liberation receives hands and feet, a body and a voice and a face. His name, in Hebrew Yehoshua, means "Yahweh saves." Jesus embodies the saving God. He embodies this sav-ing God in a concrete, historically, sociologically, and politically well-defined situation. The incarnation of the eternal Son of God implies the taking-up of a human life with all the specific conditions of a particular society in a particular time. Perhaps the most striking feature of Jesus' dealing with the people of his time and country is how free he is as a person and how free he renders others (Lk 4:!8). This freedom is not simulated, but has deep roots. He is free, because at the same time he is one with the Father. What we found as the true source of freedom of the Jewish people, namely the covenant with Yahweh, we find infinitely more in Jesus of Nazareth. He was bound with Yahweh in his very person: "one in be-ing with the Father" (see Jn 10:30). Accordingly, he always did what pleased the Father and called the will of the Father the food on which he lived (Jn 4:34). That made him a free man and enabled him to free others. Review for Religious, November-December 1990 The miracles he works are presented by the Evangelists, especially by John, as "signs," which point out who Jesus is and what God stands for. Though accepted gratefully and often enthusiastically by many con-temporaries, the signs are rejected by the political and religious leaders. They decide to kill Jesus. The prospect of his suffering and death meets with a profound inner resistance, which in Gethsemane brought a terri-ble distress over him; yet he is free enough to say yes to his passion and crucifixion (Jn 10: 17). Jesus dies on the cross as a consequence of his mission. But God stood by his Son, in and beyond his death. God raised him to new life, a life over which death has no more power. We call this the paschal mystery, in analogy to the passover-event of the Old Testa-ment. The liberating event of the Old Testament was the exodus from Egypt; in the New Testament it is the death and the resurrection of Je-sus. The paschal liturgy from its earliest origins considered the crossing of the Sea of Reeds as a prefiguration of Jesus' passing through death to the risen life, so much so that among the many Old Testament read-ings of our Easter Vigil Exodus 15 is the only one which is obligatory. Here we touch the heart of the saving and liberating mission of Je-sus. In the various forms of our creeds we confess about Jesus: his in-carnation, and then omitting every other event of his life, his passion, death, and resurrection. No miracle, no sermon, no teaching, no contact with any person, no feature of his personality, not one event of his hid-den or public life is mentioned. In every creed one jumps from the birth of Jesus straight to the paschal mystery, which constitutes the core of our faith in Jesus. The paschal mystery is like a tunnel, that obviously has two ends which are connected and thus make the one tunnel. So death and resur-rection are two sides of one mystery. It is of the essence of the gift of faith that one can see the one side of the mystery in unity with the other: the passion in the light of the resurrection--the risen Lord with the wounds of his crucifixion. It is precisely the unity of these two events, crucifixion and resurrection, that makes us free. Jesus is savior and lib-erator because he is at the same time the suffering servant of Yahweh and the glorified Lord. The tunnel leads into the realm of freedom, like the passage through the Sea of Reeds led the Jewish people into the prom-ised land. The Gospels are written from this certainty. They narrate the events of Jesus' life, but in the light of the resurrection. It is this per-spective that we call inspiration (see Jn 8:28; 12:32). It reveals to us not only the redemptive and liberating thrust of Jesus' life, but it also takes us up into that same dynamic. It is the mystery of the grain of wheat Spir!tuality of Liberation / which yields fruit only by dying in the ground (Jn 12:24). It is the call of Jesus, not to hold on to one's life, but to lose it for the sake of the kingdom (Mk 8:35). Fulfillment These words are not meant to glorify human misery nor are they to be used as a cheap consolation to those who suffer. Rather we ourselves in the first place are to take them to heart, if we want to follow Jesus and to be apostolically fruitful. Every human person strives for fulfill-ment. This is perfectly in line with God's purpose, for example, John 15:8. But there is a way of striving after self-fulfillment and self-unfolding which is not in line with God's intention. As soon as one for-gets or denies that true Christian fulfillment goes through renouncing one-self and taking up one's cross (Mk 8:34) and dying like a grain of wheat, one is moving on the wrong track. Then my own physical well-being, my settling into a comfortable lifestyle, my need to be appreciated by those with whom I live and deal, bonds of friendship, my desire to make the most of my talents, success in my work, and so forth begin to play too great a role and stifle my religious and apostolic life. Since this topic is not only very vital indeed, but also very delicate, let me stress that the values mentioned are positive and good. However, as Christians we believe that we truly obtain these values when we do not hold on to them, but are willing to lose them for the sake of Jesus and the kingdom. This brings about the attitude of freedom, in the evangelical sense of the word. An essential aspect of Jesus' freedom was his readiness to accept suf-fering and to lay down his life (Jn 10:17), even though he agonized when the actual passion began. Similarly, a disciple of Jesus cannot follow his or her master without this freedom to give up precious personal human values (Lk 14:33). The Bible gives us many examples of negative experiences which eventually turn out to be quite positive. It is the lesson which Jesus in a remedial class brought home to the disciples of Emmaus (Lk 24:26). It is the lesson which Moses was taught in Exodus 33:18-23. It is the les-son that the evil is far worse than we admit, but that the good is also much greater than we dare to hope and even can bear. It is the lesson which all of us have learned in life: what at the actual moment was felt like a great loss, often revealed itself in hindsight as a real grace. The biblical message, confirmed by our own life experience, may help us to become more free in regard to our own life and more free in our apos-tolic service. 839 / Review for Religious, November-December 1990 It is, of course, a platitude to say that only those who are themselves liberated can help to liberate others. But this platitude is also a little sim-plistic. It seems more nuanced to say that as the Father wants us to be creative with him, likewise the Son wants us to be redemptive with him and wants to continue his work of liberation in and through us (Gaudium et spes 34 and 67). In this way we point out more clearly that our own liberation is a lifelong process and that it is only God who can work true freedom in ourselves and in others. We have to complete th'is statement by saying that God can work this true freedom only through us. So it is our mission to help the people experience the liberating God. In his encyclical Evangelii Nuntiandi (1975), Pope Paul VI stressed that evangel-ization proclaims and tries to realize liberation. This evangelization and this liberation aim at the whole person, .as the same Pope wrote already in an earlier encyclical Populorum Progressio (1967). Respect I suppose this renders respect a key concept in our service of libera-tion: a great respect and regard for the dignity of each human being, that is to say, of ourselves and of others. Respect is the heart of love, and in many ways the word respect is more meaningful than the word love (which, alas, is sometimes used so vaguely and glibly). Respect means to acknowledge the worth of others as other, that is, to relate to them not as we want them to be, not as we think they should be, not as they fit into our plans, but as they are. It also means to discover in these real people their defects, and to accept them. There is a wise and dense say-ing of C.G. Jung: "One can only change what one, has accepted." What we reject or condemn or repress goes beyond our reach; we cannot do anything with it nor for it anymore. I am convinced that the lack of respect does a tremendous harm in our communities, in our apostolate, in our Church, and in our world. If we could come to a basic attitude of respect for each human being, the world would become a so much better place to live in and the Gospel-message would become so much more real and convincing. This respect should not be an aloof, detached, disembodied attitude. If it is, it contradicts itself. Clodovis Boff expresses the opinion that Euro-pean culture tends to screen itself from the "two-edged sword of the Word" (Heb 4:12) with a highly developed, but spiritualistic, exegeti-cal, and sociological sophistication. "Europeans only?" one might ask. As our respect for each other has to be integral, so has the liberation we work for. We cannot restrict it either to the spiritual or the political realm. Spirituality of Liberation / 833 The Poor The word integral can also be understood as including all men and women, though the word universal might be more appropriate in this case. With that meaning in mind, integral or universal liberation requires a special concern for the poor and the weak. This is certainly in line with a trend that runs through the whole of Scripture. God shows a preferen-tial love for the poor, which leads to a certain identification with the poor-est, as mentioned above. The cry of the poor is heard by God, yes, even the curse of the poor (Si 4:5; Ex 22:22). As for the New Testament, the cry of Jesus on the cross is sometimes said to continue in the cry of the poor. That cry comes from the seventy percent who are underprivileged and undernourished--the majority of whom can hardly survive, let alone live in dignity. The Bible demands our solidarity with them. They are the present-day locus where we meet Christ. It is in them that Jesus is to be found. We may need a conversion of heart and a radical change of our lifestyle in order to live up to this demand of the time. There is a use of the word freedom which is meant to deny just that. Nuclear weapons are claimed to protect freedom, which, in fact, means only "our" freedom, and that, in turn, stands really for our power and affluence. These self-interests, however, are maintained at the expense of other people's lives, and their "protection," therefore, runs counter to the actual demands of the Gospel. Integral or universal liberation requires that the poor are not the only ones liberated, and that liberation is not understood only economically. There may be certain biases sometimes, which do harm to the integrity or wholeness of liberation. It shows the greatness of a theologian like Leonardo Boff, that for example, in his volume Jesus Christ the Libera-tor he writes some pertinent pages precisely to denounce such a bias. Structural Sin Recently another aspect of integral liberation has come to the fore, namely, liberation from "social sin" or "structural evil." Of course, Christians have always known of sins in the social sphere, and also of the social aspect of every sin. It is new, however, to call social struc-tures themselves sinful. It has taken some controversy to clarify that the word "sin" in this expression is used in analogy with the personal sin we had known hitherto. Both good and bad actions can embody and per-petuate themselves in structures, which are accordingly good or bad, and, once established, are the source of further good or evil. So certain structures are called sinful, while they originate from and in turn lead to personal sin. They definitely restrict our freedom and often they ten- Review for Religious, November-December 1990 der us unfree to a considerable extent. The individual is in those cases often both cause and victim. Those who create these structures or main-tain them or profit from them or even in complicity tolerate them are guilty. This social sin is part of the mystery of iniquity that cries for libera-tion towards the Lord of history and brings out the human race's need of redemption. It is by no means easy to admit this sin for oneself, to free oneself from its entanglement, and to work for liberation of others on this level--far more difficult usually than in the sphere of personal sin. One can be certain that attempts towards changing these structures will bring 'with them many personal inconveniences, hardships, threats, loss of friends and relations, in certain countries imprisonment, torture, and even death, as many have found out, especially in the last decades. When I interpreted freedom as a readiness to accept suffering, I had these kinds of situations in mind. A person who is not free to suffer cannot think of working for liberation from structural sin. Vulnerability is a genu-ine assurance that we are in touch with reality, truth, and love, not self-interest. Here, more than anywhere else, it is important to realize that God is the chief agent in overcoming evil, and that we are cooperators with him, instruments in his hand, branches of the vine. Without this con-viction coming from faith, the challenge would overwhelm us. A Church which is too much concerned about itself, its own image, and its own problems cannot tackle this task, just as an individual who is too egocentric cannot engage in it. The Church has to proclaim the Lord Jesus, above all in his paschal mystery of death and resurrection, and not proclaim itself. Liberation in its many aspects requires the over-coming of all self-centeredness, both in the individual and in the Church. The more the Church is focused on the person of Jesus and not on itself, the more the Church will be able to discover what men and women of other religions and other visions are doing for liberation, and to cooper-ate with them. It seems to be a special task of the religious to help the Church to focus on our Lord and Savior and thereby to be open to all people of good will who pledge themselves to liberation. Obviously, we can only help the Church in this by doing it ourselves and by being loyal to our Church. Dangers Much praise has been sung to the spirituality of liberation in this ar-ticle, and rightly so. Some dangers must be mentioned also. Not to cool down our commitment, but to safeguard it. I do not want to elaborate on these dangers, yet it seems unfair to me to pass them by completely. SpiritualiO, of Liberation / ~135 So let me just give the headings as I found them in an article ("Como Fazer Teologia da Libertac~o," published by: Vozes, Petr6polis, Bra-zil 1986) written jointly by Clodovis and Leonardo Boff: - a neglect of the mystical roots - a rampage of the political aspects - a stifling of the faith through too much discussion - a tendency towards exclusiveness and absolutism - an exaggerated emphasis on the discontinuity with the tradition and an underestimating of the continuity - a negligence of a serious dialogue and discussion with other spirituali-ties -a lack of care to make the theology of liberation understandable and pal-atable to the authority in the Church, which delays the conversion of the Church to the poor. After having rushed through these dangers, let me close with a quota-tion from the encyclical of Pope John Paul Redemptoris Mater and with a word of hope. Mary "Drawing from Mary's heart, from the depth of her faith expressed in the words of the Magnificat, the Church renews ever more effectively in herself the awareness that the truth about God who saves, the truth about God who is the source of every girl, cannot be separated from the manifestation of his love of preference for the poor and the humble, that love, which, celebrated in the Magnificat, is later expressed in the words and works of Jesus. The Church is thus aware--and at the present time this awareness is particularly vivid--not only that these two elements of the message contained in the Magnificat cannot be separated, but also that there is a duty to safeguard carefully the importance of 'the poor' and of 'the option in favor of the poor' in the word of the living God. These are matters and questions intimately connected with the Christian meaning of freedom and liberation. 'Mary is totally dependent upon God and completely directed towards him, and, at the side of her Son, she is the most perfect image of freedom and of the liberation of humanity and of the universe. It is to her as Mother and Model that the Church must look in order to understand in its completeness the meaning of her own mission' " (Nr.37). Hope It is common among the theologians.of liberation to stress the hope Review for Religious, November-December 1990 that is manifest in their movement. To work and to struggle for libera-tion for any length of time is impossible without authentic hope. This hope is not identical with optimism. Optimism emphasizes the positive aspects and draws attention away from the negative, tends to underesti- ¯ mate the latter, and even to repress them. It may be a pleasant attitude, but it is often not quite realistic. Hope, on the contrary, faces the difficulties and the pain, yet does not lose heart. Hope is more than an impulse. Hope makes us faithful and persevering. Hope discloses a great strength, which is beyond us. Hope is able to sail its own course with every wind, even with head wind. Charles P6guy portrays hope as a little girl between her two big sisters who hold her by the hand. It looks as if the two big ones lead the little one, but the opposite is true. It is hope that keeps faith and love alive, young, and vital. The basic communities and the other groups that embody the libera-tion movement are centers of hope. This hope is not an acquired, but an infused virtue--that means beyond us and yet in us as a divine gift, as a fruit of the paschal mystery. "Through him (Christ) you have confi-dence in God, who raised him from the dead and gave him glory, so that your faith is hope in God" (1 P 1:21). Compline Salvation danced In the dark Of Mary's womb, Was paid with blood On a black hill, Then rose for all From death's dead tomb. So I must trust Your grace unseen Till from life's grave I, too, am freed. Kathleen T. Choi 1706Waianuenue Avenue Hilo, Hawaii 96720 Liberation and the Liturgical Year ¯ Susan Anderson Kerr, Ph.D. Susan Anderson Kerr is an Oblate of St. Louis Priory in Petersham, Massachusetts. Her address is 4209 Avenue F; Austin, Texas 78751. When we observe the culture around us and see the emptin~s_.s of living apari ~?o~m ]he liturgical year, we see that the liturgical ~ar is hot some pious preoccupation of people with a taste for the archaic. It is a ques-tion of survival, of urgent importance for an age hungry for liberation, and respectful of those who survive. It is a question of freedom, of vast relevance for our culture which reveres freedom, struggles with addic-tions, and seeks personal liberation from materialism, sexism, racism, and a host of enslaving isms. In an age of decline and disintegration such as ours, many people turn to the inner life to exert the yearning for goodness and truth and beauty which in another era would have had a greater possibility for ex-ternal expression in politics or art or education. The pain of the loss of knowing how to do things--how to accomplish civic reforms, how to com-bat drugs and violence, how to overcome the hedonism and cynicism of our time---can send people on a spiritual quest. So we have an outpour-ing of books on the inner life--Jungian psychology, individual prayer techniques, popularizations of the great works of Catholic spirituality. But if we attend only to our individual spiritual growth while neglect-ing liturgical spirituality, we try to walk to the heavenly Jerusalem on one leg. The Lord does not intend for us to so hobble. Part of the reason we neglect the liturgy is that it effects our healing so circuitously, circling like the rings around the trunk of the tree. We want results now; we are on fire with intentions. Romano Guardini once observed that liturgy is much more like a forest where one wanders than a gymnasium where with fixed purpose one exercises certain muscles. 837 Review for Religious, November-December 1990 Another reason we slight the liturgy is that those great masters of the spiri-tual life--St. Teresa of Avila, St. John of the Cross, St. Ignatius of Loyola--who are such help to us wrote at a time of liturgical decadence when desiccated liturgies were an obstacle to spiritual growth. When we try to walk on both legs, liturgical as well as individual prayer, other saints will help us, saints who wrote when liturgy and spiri-tuality were not at cross purposes, saints in the monastic tradition, like St. Benedict and St. Gertrude. The Vatican documents of the renewal of the liturgy are also useful in correcting our understanding of the value of liturgy. Personal prayer is a logical place to begin as one searches for encoun-ter with God, but to linger there is to remain a spiritual adolescent. To relate the liturgical year to the individual's private life of prayer is to ad-dress a practical question: why pay attention to the liturgical year? If I am learning centering prayer, or the Jesus prayer, or my Enneagram num-ber, or how to relate to my anima or animus, why do I need the liturgi-cal year? Is this not a formal structure which has nothing at all to do with the rich spontaneity and diversity of my inner life? "Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel; he has come to his people and set them free," the Church sings each morning. And so God has. The liturgical year invites us into liberation in three areas: freedom from chronos and cyclical time, freedom from nature, and freedom from the tyranny of our unconscious. First, the liturgical year helps shape our understanding of the mean-ing of time. It removes us from the pagan sense of time as repetition, nature's cycle endlessly repeating itself, and from the atheist's concep-tion of time as pure chronos. It introduces a.God-ward momentum and shaping of time, an upwardly moving spiral. Empty repetition and end-less succession are replaced by repetition at higher levels on the spiral, by kairos punctuating chronos, or chronos building to and being shaped by kairos. Like a lovely shell, the liturgical year has been extruded cen-tury after long century as the Church needed more space in which to dwell. The liturgical year gives us a common memory. This happens on sev-eral levels: on the cosmic level, as Pierre Teiihard de Chardin describes, the Church evolves towards the omega point; on the historic level as the Church organizes time before and after our Lord's death; on the personal level as our individual existence takes its place in this great spiral flow-ing towards God. Intimately linked with our common memory of the liturgical year is Liberation and the Liturgical Year the common authority which establishes it. The Church has to maintain the central focus on the life of Christ, balancing between a proliferation of feast days which would result in a loss of shape to the Church year, and the impulse to celebration which led one desert father to exult "Life is an eternal festival." Second, the liturgical year frees us from romantic identification with nature. But what does the liturgical year express about our relationship to nature? Partly organized around the sun, partly around the moon, the liturgical year demonstrates as Odo Casel remarks, the maxim "Grace builds on nature." The week evolved from divisions of the lunar cycle, for the Hebrew festal calendar, like the first calendar cycles of most primi-tive religions, was lunar. The Jewish lunar months were divided by sab-batical weeks; the Mosaic sabbath is based on 7 as a perfect number, ex-pressing completion and fullness. The Easter celebration evolved from the Jewish liturgical cycle which had gradually replaced nature rituals with festivals commemorating Israel's history of salvation. Unlike the polytheistic peoples around them who made the powers of nature divine, the Jewish people came to see nature as a tool and im-age of the spiritual. The feast of Pesach had nomadic roots, for it is cele-brated at the first full moon after the vernal equinox when a young male lamb is sacrificed, roasted, and eaten. But its central focus is the reen-actment of the deliverance of Israelfrom the hands of Egypt. When Je-sus transformed this feast by identifying himself with the sacrificial lamb, he lifted it from its local origin and universalized it into the feast of the salvation of all human beings of every time. But Easter does not thereby shed its lunar and historical associations. Thus the cyclic observance of the vernal equinox is lifted first into the hope of renewal in human history recalled in the Passover festival, and then universalized in the.final eschatological hope of Easter. We see a similarl appropriation of ~natureir~ the use of the sun in the liturgical year. Jesus, as the light of the world, was identified with the sun. His birth is celebrated at the winter solstice, transforming and uni-versalizing the pagan festival of the sol invictus. His conception is thus celebrated nine months earlier near the vernal equinox, March 25. Since according to Luke 1:26, John the Baptist was conceived six months be-' fore Jesus, his conception is observed at the autumnal equinox, and his birth, by extension, at the summer solstice June 24. Thus the two equi-noxes and the two solstices are brought into the Christian year and trans-formed from cyclic rituals to feasts of the birth of life and light into this world's darkness. ~140 / Review for Religious, November-December 1990 John the Baptist's feasts are also associated with the sun's activity; in the fourth century they were seen as cosmic confirmation of John's own words "He must increase; but I must decrease" (Jn 3:30). The prayer of the Divine Office is also organized around the sun; the two most important hours occur when the sun rises and when it sets. Here the beginning and ending of the day are bound up with the life of the Lord: the sun's rising is an image of his rising from the dead; vespers, when the sun sets, the beginning of a new day, is eucharistic in charac-ter, full of thanksgiving for the light that has been. The Church uses nature as the basis for sacred time, but does not re-main encased within natural rhythms. The liturgical year steers the Chris-tian away from romantic identification with nature, from new age senti-mentality about its saving power, as well as from Gnostic fear of the ca-pacity of creation to convey divine purposes. Like an enormous tree nour-ished with roots deep in our personal and collective unconscious, it also teaches respect for natural processes, for slow growth, for rhythms be-yond human control. Finally, the liturgical year unfetters our freedom from the tyranny of our unconscious. When Moses stood before the burning bush aiad saw that this was holy ground, he entered a new place to live. That place is prayer; it is man's response to God's holiness and comes into existence only in communion with God. We can compare this to the common ground that exists between two friends; when I get to know someone, drawn by mutual interests or complementary personalities, a territory of shared experience grows between us. As the holy ground between man and the divine extends in time, so is born the inner liturgical year. "Moses, Moses, take off your shoes, for the place on which you stand is holy ground" (Ex 3:5). Liturgy must be interior as well as exterior for it to be whole. The structures of worship which ancient Israel built in response to Moses' ex-perience of the transcendence of God--first the altar of sacrifice, later a mobile tabernacle, and the Sabbath--were images of inner freedom, of the oblation of self to Yahweh, to Being. The early Church absorbed the Jewish sabbath into a festival of the Lord's day, Sunday, a day to celebrate the Resurrection of Christ, the fulfillment of the Incarnation which was implicit in the assent to crea-tion celebrated on the sabbath. The Documents of Vatican II remind us "The Lord's Day is the original feast day, and it should be proposed to the faithful and taught to them so that it may become in fact a day of joy and of freedom from work" (Vol. I p. 29). Liberation and the Liturgical Year In Sunday is the seed of all later festivals. We encounter Sunday first in the gospels, for this is the day of the Resurrection, the day the Lord appeared to Mary Magdalene. Also in Scripture we find the first repeti-tion of Sunday, for it was one week later after his Resurrection that the Lord appeared to Thomas and the company assembled in the upper room and breathed his peace on them. Thus, in the book of Acts, the early Church observes Sunday as a day to celebrate the Resurrection; not a day of rest, not a continuation of the Jewish sabbath, but a new day, an eighth day, of completion, and a first day of rejoicing in creation. To celebrate Sunday witnesses to our busy and harried society of the freedom and goodness of the Christian vision of life. A reform of Sun-day can only come from within the individual life; the era of puritanical prohibitions has done its job of proposing to us what a day of rest would look like, and now it is up to us to practice an asceticism of time so that shopping, banking, errands, and office work can be laid aside for one day. A day to affirm the goodness of creation means a day for play, for friends, for music, for nature. This is a gift from God. Accepting it wit-nesses to the eternal festival latent behind the celebration of this special day. The Christian who observes Sunday as a day of joy and freedom from work learns the interconnectedness of time, for such a Sunday be-gins the night before. As the Jews began to observe a holy day with the vigil of the preceding night, so the Christian liturgical year interweaves all time around this structure of the week, each festival held in place by the surrounding times. Liturgical memory looks backwards and forwards as it draws strength for the present. Sunday looks back to divine assent to creation, and forward to the heavenly rest we anticipate. Celebrating Sunday nourishes our freedom to set aside work and worry and simply be. Liturgical memory forms the whole memory. People who can set aside their personal agenda and enter into the communal celebration, or who make the communal agenda their personal concern, are the ones who then can place their individual psychological problems in a wide con-text. They are not locked into the present, because they are formed to see it held in a web between past and future, nor are they confined to their own personal viewpoint however fully it might be absorbing them. In other words, the liturgy is a school of detachment, a word which in English sounds cold and lonely. I am told the German equivalent, abgeschiedenheit, would be translated as "serene freedom of the spirit filled with utter trust in God." That is the result of a memory formed 849 / Review for Religious, November-December 1990 by the liturgy. But it is accomplished not directly and didactically, but symbolically and by example. Thus the liturgy teaches us that every feast must be preceded by a period of preparation: no Sunday without week-days, no Christmas without Advent, no Easter without Lent, and plenty of ordinary time to allow the mysteries of Christ to be absorbed and di-gested. Here is delayed gratification made visible. But this is more than just training in patience for high points. St. Cath-erine of Siena once said "All the way to heaven is heaven." That is what the liturgy says tool Advent and Lent, ordinary time, all the small roots of morning and evening prayer absorb water for the tree's growth which is celebrated at Christmas, Easter, and Pentecost. In the liturgical year, the Church has given us not only a survival strat-egy, but a place to grow as well. Aidan Kavanaugh wrote "Liberators accomplish only half their task then they liberate. The other half of their labor is to provide a normal place, a free place, on which the liberated may land." That normal, free place, that place out of the reach of the forces of the enemy, of the trendy, the selfish, the trivial, is the liturgi-cal year. Morning Praise At my window the willow filigrees the gold of dawn and hangs it on my wall; trembling fronds lose themselves in the sudden glow that,starset and sunrise trace upon the morning. I, too, in this hour am lost in grace-gold shower that spills upon the desert of my heart. Sister Elizabeth deSales Dee, S.S.J. St. Joseph Convent 7300 Torresdale Avenue Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19136 The Vowed Life as a Peace Story to Be Told Patricia McCarthy, C.N.D. Sister Patricia McCarthy, a member of the Congregation of Notre Dame, has worked with the poor in the field of education, particularly with homeless and abused chil-dren, where the ministry of nonviolence is a daily challenge. Her address is Congre-gation of Notre Dame; 41 Cole Street; East Providence, Rhode Island 02914. Among the international travel ads which I faithfully read, I have noticed recently a new type of tour being offered. It is possible to visit northern Europe on a special story-telling trip. Imagine going from thatched roof cottages to desolate moors and dangerous harbors, and all the time lis-tening. The accents would change with the landscapes, and both would change the stories. Just listen and hear the true nature of the countries and its people come out in ways more real than through the products at the duty-free shops in the airports. Then I began to wonder. Will we be able to t~il stories that will en-thrall and inspire? Do we live passionately enough to be sources of hope and interest for future generations? Will others tell and retell with drama and humor the stories of our lives? Thomas Hardy said: "A story must be exceptional enough to justify its telling. We storytellers are all ancient mariners, and none of us is justified in stopping wedding guests unless he has something more unusual to relate than the ordinary experiences of every man and woman." I continue to wonder. What stories in our generation will justify their retelling? Could it be that when the story of peace is told, religious men and women will be talked about? When storytellers explain poverty, celi-bacy, and obedience, will they tell the tales of people so in love with God and with their'brothers and sisters that they wrapped this love in freely 843 Review for Religious, November-December 1990 chosen vows? When the listeners ask what gave these religious such passion and why were they so free to love, will the storyteller have to risk entering into mystery? Will the story become one with the story and mystery of Jesus? There is no reasonable explanation for a God who loved so passion-ately that he came and lived among us. He taught us and healed us and blessed us. Finally, he gave himself on the cross for our redemption. Will the story of religious life make sense only within this context of aban-donment? Is not religious life the lived expression of Jesus' surrender to God for love of us? Gandhi said that Jesus Christ's offering of himself on the cross for the redemption of the world was the only perfect act of nonviolence the world has ever seen. Since the very nature of religious life is to be inti-mately united with Jesus, the vows can be considered in light of his su-preme act of peacemaking. The vows can be seen as living realities that transform people into peacemakers for our fragile world. We search high and low for ways of being peace in the midst of hostility and violence. Perhaps if we go deeply into the vows we will see not only the founda-tion of religious life but the foundation of peacemaking as well. Freedom In Poverty We begin in poverty. Scripture has always put God in the midst of the poor. In the Old Testament, Yahweh compassionately watched over the anawim. To the childless, children were given; to the homeless, a chosen land; to the hungry, manna in the desert; to the lost, visions and dreams to follow. When the fullness of time came, a wretched stable was the birthplace of the Son of God. His first experience of life was as a refugee in a foreign land. And his first teaching began, "Blessed are the poor in spirit." We choose poverty because Jesus did. Poverty and want are evils when people are denied the necessary elements of survival. It makes no sense to embrace a vow of poverty. The vows do not make sense, they make love. We risk letting go of material security as a source of com-fort and happiness so that Christ can be our only fulfillment. What does this have to do with peace? Everything. If Christ is our wealth, we have nothing on this earth to defend, including our own lives. Lack of desire to defend one's possessions or life would make war improbable and unnecessary. Wars are usually started for economic rea-sons. Either an aggressor is greedy for the acquisition of land or eco-nomic control, or an oppressed people revolt against the denial of their The Vowed Life as a Peace Story to Be Told / 845 right to a decent standard of life. The slogans of freedom cover the at-tempts ~to maintain or increase power. During Texas' war for indepen-dence, a young soldier wrote home to his family: "If we win, we'll all be rich. If we lose, we will have died for freedom." Greed-induced vio-lence leaves millions of shattered and broken lives in its wake. Bring into this picture an army of people vowing poverty. It would remind one of the pages from a pre-primer book where the child has to pick out what is wrong with the picture. What does not fit in with every-thing else? A vow of poverty is countercultural when greed is the ear-mark of the culture. Why would someone with nothing to defend go to war for the purpose of defense? Of course, war is merely the outward extreme expression of the daily violence abiding in the human heart. It is, therefore, from the heart that the message of peace must come, not from a treaty or constitution. It is also within the heart that the vow of poverty must be embraced and shaped. If we can say that as individuals we own nothing, then whatever we use or manage is done in the spirit of stewardship. And then if some-one asks for our coat, we do not fight; we give the scarf and hat as well. If people are hungry and we have food, we share what we have with them. A vow of poverty should lead us to the reality that all we possess is gift. Because we know personally the Giver of all gifts, our poverty seeks expression through trust in God and willingness to share with the children of God. Fidelity to the vow is not marked by having nothing, but by desiring nothing and by a willingness to share freely whatever we have. Conscious today that too many of our brothers and sisters are starv-ing, we should be willing to live a poverty more radical than anything that has been seen for decades. The world needs our example and our leadership in order to break the cycle of a few using for themselves alone the natural resources intended for all. Strong statements about sharing the fruits of the earth are necessary in a world so consumed by the ac-quisition of wealth. We distort and falsify Christ's plea to us not to worry about what we are to eat or wear when we stockpile the necessities of life. We can do that and have what we think we need day after day, but we miss out on even knowing how beautifully we would have been dressed and cared for, as the lilies of the field and the birds of the air. It is a small step from stockpiling consumer goods to stockpiling arms. Emptying our hands does not automatically produce a disarmed Review for Religious, November-December 1990 heart, but clutching hands certainly will prevent us from having one. We need the practice of trusting God for our daily bread so that when the time comes to trust in God for our very lives, the surrender and faith will be there. Our times are crying for people with disarmed and trusting hearts. Our times are crying for those of us who have vowed poverty to embrace it radically. Our times are crying for us to live out daily the reality that our only need is God. This is what a life of poverty calls us to. This is the truth of a vow of poverty. Gandhi used to live "experi-ments in truth." It was his way of learning. By this he meant an unin-terrupted progression from insight to action to insight, and so forth. He would get an idea, try it out in practice, refine his first idea because of the action, then go to another action, and so on. Poverty is a lifetime ex-periment in truth. We feel inspired to trust God a little and release our hold on something. This leads to more trust and the release of something else, and so on. It's lifetime because we will never run out of things to let go of! The wonder of our God is that we never miss the small insignificant tokens we have parted with. We are showered with the very life of God and have no needs outside of this. We learn to yearn for God alone, not merely the gifts of God. Even when God seems absent from us, we have no desire to seek consolation from any other source. Perhaps, then, we receive our dearest treasure, a poor heart, totally dependent upon God for everything. Only then, when we have nothing left to defend, will we have been formed into peacemakers after the model of Jesus. In our communion with each other and with those who came before us, we see that the peacemakers who stand out in any century were peo-ple of great poverty. Francis, the poor man of Assisi; Mahatma Gandhi, the Hindu ascetic; Thomas Merton, the trappist; Dorothy Day, the bow-ery dweller. They are not remembered because they were deprived, they are remembered because they had so much to give. Passion ,in Celibacy If a generous heart is the sign of vowed poverty, then a passionate heart is the sign of vowed celibacy. The vow of celibacy is at the core of the consecrated life, just as surrender to the passionate love of Christ is at the core of peacemaking. We cannot expect people to give up their arms of defense against other people and to be vulnerable to human ha-tred, unless we have first taught them to let go of their defenses against God and to be vulnerable to infinite love. The vulnerability of passion-ate love embodies an act of complete trust in God, of counting on God The Vowed Life as a Peace Story to Be Told to never abandon us or leave us unprotected. Celibacy calls us to this surrender of our very bodies to the love of God. By this vow, we witness in flesh to the power of God to fulfill us and protect us. This same passionate surrender is required of all peace-makers. They need not be celibate, but they do need to enflesh the pri-macy of the power and love of God. It is this primacy of God which is the clear witness of the vow of celibacy. It is the same primacy of the love and power of God to which Christ surrendered. Peace is not within our grasp without the act of redemption of Christ on Calvary. No matter how selfless or sacrificing we might be, the ability to take on and endure violence in order to heal it is the work of God. We share in this work, we are the hands and feet of Christ to-day, but he is the source and fountain of all life, of all power, and of all power to endure violence without retaliation. The clearest and most visible example of this power of God taking flesh is Mary, the virgin Mother of God. Mary trusted so completely in the power of God that she surrendered in faith to bear the Son of God in her womb. Within her body Mary carried Jesus Christ who was con-ceived by the Holy Spirit. "The Holy Spirit will come upon you and the power of the Most High will overshadow you" (Lk i:35). "The fact that she conceived without human means is the sign that she conceived by the power of God. And in this she is a sign to us of our own radical de-pendence on God and on our union with him in grace in order to bear fruit or to do anything that is divinely life-giving on earth "(David Knight, Mary in an Adult Church Memphis: His Way Communications, 1988, pp. 22,23). We see in Mary the cost and the fruit of faith-filled trust in God. We see in Mary a woman confident of God"s continual care and boundless love. We see in Mary a woman whose heart was turned into a furnace of love by the Holy Spirit. We can expect the same care and mercy from God, we can expect to receive the same fire of love from the Holy Spirit. Belief in this fact alone should put us in the front lines of peacemaking. If God is the power of our lives, we do not put our trust in other earthly powers. We have vowed celibacy, consecrated our bodies to virginity. This is a visible em-bodiment of receptivity and of openness to God's working with us and through us. It is a physical expression of total surrender to the loved one; it is the abandonment of all defenses and reserves in the presence of the beloved. It is a matter of the heart. Gandhi taught that nonviolence, also, was a matter of the heart, not 848 / Review for Religious, November-December 1990 to be arrived at by an appeal to the brain: that it was a matter of passion not of policy. Celibacy is not an intellectual thing but a passionate physi-cal stance. A life vowed to celibacy, within which we surrender in love the essence of our being, forms a heart capable of understanding and em-bracing nonviolence. A heart can be formed in many ways. Some of the ascetical prac-tices that used to accompany a study of the vows can be seen now as fash-ioning hearts for peacemaking. Fasting--one of the oldest practices in religious tradition---can be undertaken as a concrete expression of the pri-macy of God in our life. It is far more an act of worship than an act of discipline, To live the reality that God is the power of our lives, at times we freely abandon or fast from food or other material things. When the needs of our bodies call out, we turn ourselves over to God in whose pres-ence we abide. It is not the abstaining from food which is holy, but the turning of our attention and desires to God. Prayer becomes the love language of the celibate. When we love someone, there is no end to the variety of ways in which we say it. All the different prayer styles and prayer methods are merely different ways of giving and receiving love. Celibacy is about our bodies, and when we use these bodies to kneel in prayer we give expression to the reality of the vow. Just the act of kneeling is in itself a commitment of our body, a sign of intimate surrender to God. Such signs are important to us and to God. We are human and we yearn to give human expression to our desires; and God is pleased to see us using the gift of our bodies in worship. As important as these signs of surrender are, we go beyond them, we move from sign to reality when we participate in the Eucharistic celebration of Calvary. Union with Christ in the Mass is the commitment of our body to receive his Body. We share in Christ's moment of intimate surrender to his God. We offer ourselves with Christ to be transformed more and more into his Body. In this union we find the fulfillment of our celibacy. Out of this union, we are sent in service to our brothers and sisters. And this can be the passionate physical expression of love that physical penances were to some of the saints. Physical forms of penance are not outdated; they have j.ust changed style to adjust to the times. One (~f the saints stood in ice water up to his neck one winter's night, doing pen-ance for a friend who was considering sinful choices. Standing in the cold at the water's edge for hours in protest at a nuclear submarine base can be our modern day version of the same experience. Patiently endur-ing the irascible tempers and dispositions in a shelter for the homeless The Vowed Life as a Peace Story to Be Told or a soupline can be the discipline of the senses in this age. The ideal of self-sacrificing love can be applied to living within the noise and dan-ger of inner cities in order to be with today's anawim. Especially for those overcommitted and overworked religious who give beyond their limits, the ascetism most expressive of a loving re-sponse to God might be to fast from work one day a week. Work is any-thing that we think has to be done. Let it all go for a day. Keep holy the Lord's day. If we believe God is our source of power, let our bodies and minds and energies show it by giving the time to being, not doing. It is possible .this practice could be far more productive than ceaseless days of activity. Surely, a day of rest with God is a practical act of trust, one that might lead us to become even more practical and venture into the constant trust required for a vow of obedience. Stewardship of Self in Obedience Having emptied our hands through poverty and surrendered our hearts in celibacy, we receive from God through obedience the assurance that all is done in accord with the divine plan. Every peacemaker must be obedient, but religious have the value of a vow. This vow does not just mean doing what someone else tells you to do. Doing what some-one else tells you is simple; it may not be easy, but it is simple and un-complicated. That is not what the vow of obedience calls us to. Obedience calls us to listen to God's designs for us, to listen to God's desires for us. Obe-dience calls us to stewardship of the gift of God that is ourselves. If we value the goods and fruits of our fragile earth so much that we h01d them in stewardship, how much more should we value ourselves and hold our-selves in stewardship. We are a gift of God, to be treasured and used ac-cording to the plan of God. Obedience encourages us to take seriously this call to stewardship of self. The first step of the obedient peacemaker is to listen to this call. It will be unique to each person. No one else can listen to it for us. Per-haps the most common sin of disobedience today is not the failure to do what is asked by lawful authority, but the failure to do what, over and above this, is asked by God. Probably few of us consciously, explicitly deny God. But do we consistently hear God's requests and calls? When we are consumed by plans and activities of our own, are we willing to change and to let God move us in another direction? If we have vowed celibacy and said that God is the source of power in our lives, are we able to live that out by listening for .the delicate, unobtrusive voice of God day after day and abandoning all our ideas and hopes to the ideas Review for Religious, November-December 1990 and hopes of God? How do we hear God? We open ourselves to being vulnerable and receptive to all the known and unknown ways God speaks: our own in-stincts and desires, needs of others, realities of life over which we have no control, requests from our communities, and decisions by those who minister through authority. It would be easier if we were the only judge of what is the desire of God. We have been created for community with God's people, and in community we hear and discern the will of God. We pray in our rooms and in our churches and in our workplaces. We seek the face of God, alone and with others. Obedience is not a private vow, it is a communal one. In the base communities of Latin America, private prayer and com-munal reflection on the word of God precede any action for justice. Peo-ple do not act on their own instincts alone; plans for action are submit-ted to the reflection and discussion of the community. There is always a person or group to whom every individual is accountable. This is a cru-cial factor in these communities, a factor which is most difficult for groups in North America who have tried to model the base community style. The same principle of responsible accountability was applied by Gandhi in his struggle for freedom in India and by Martin Luther King, Jr. in his struggle for freedom from racism in America. In their actions for nonviolent resistance, both men taught their people to begin with prayer and fasting. Individuals were prepared step-by-step for the action that had been decided upon. Not everyone was permitted to participate if the leaders thought they were not ready. Obedience to the plan was crucial. Today when civil disobedience is done correctly, all those partici-pating should have another person or group to whom they are responsi-ble. If that person or group tells an individual to discontinue the action, that person is expected to obey. If we are serious about the work of jus-tice then we had better be serious about obedience. Civil disobedience for individuals with vows of obedience is a won-derful opportunity to exercise the vow. Civil disobedience must always be an expression of personal commitment, not just of association with a just cause. For a religious to accept the call to steffardship of self so seriously that there may be a time when the law of God takes precedence over the law of society, a process of discernment should be a prerequi-site to the action. Prayer, study, and discussion should operate on three levels: personal, local, and provincial. Discernment on all three levels The Vowed L

Issue 36.4 of the Review for Religious, 1977. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS IS edited by faculty members of St Lou~s Umverslty, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Btnldmg, 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright (~) 1977 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louisa Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor July 1977 Volume 36 Number 4 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to R~:v~w yon RELiGiOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to R~vmw roe RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. In Process: John the Baptist Mary Catherine Barron, C.S.J, Sister Mary Catherine, whose last article appeared in the March, 1977 issue, resides at 91 Overlook Ave.; Latham, NY 12110. ¯ Are you the one who is to come, or have we.to wait for someone else? (L.k 7,: 19). It seems that John the Baptist spent his-wtiole life.waiting. As such, he was an extremely patient man. Somehow, through the centuries, ~ though, we came to have his story wr6ng, and tend to name him solely as messenger and prophet. In doing so, we miss the mighty impact of his questions and the overwhelming witness value of the answers he accepted. He must have learned something vital---early on--in the, womb, as he expectantly waited for the moment of his birth. Again, we tend to ascribe that birth to a certain day and hour.when,."the time of fulfillment came for Elizabeth to have her child." Actually, it happened earlier, some three months past, when John first met Jesus and greeted him with joy: The symbolism of that encounter must have haunted the heart of John even as its vestiges traced a pattern through the years. In the darkness of confinement John felt divine intrusion and in a mystical leap of faith, he assented to vocation. And then divinity withdrew and John, was left to wait. Had he known that waiting period was to be not months, but years, he may not have had the courage. Had he known it would end in another dark confinement and another mystical leap to another divine intrusion, he may not have had the strength. But Yahweh was merciful and John was content to grow. And he did so slowly through the years, in ~the shadow of the question: "What will this child turn out to be?" Neighbors asked it first, but its overwhelming import must have~g,radually fashioned the contours of his life, drawing him like a lodestone into the current of salvific process. Surely, in. the desert, it must have echoed, in the wind and the force of 497 4911 / Review [or Religious, Volume 3~6, 1977/4 its persistence must have, at times, lured John to fear. "Suppose it is all myth? Suppose I am only a deranged desert'man, wa~iting for a prophecy never to .be sent, waiting for a mission never to be given? Suppo'se I am to be like the shifting desert sand--blown back and forth relentlessly by an overwhelming passion? Suppose I am deluded and my life is just a waste?" What impels a man to wait in the face of such a doubt? What causes him to stand expectant and receptive? What constitutes the tenacious re-silience of his heart? Perhaps it was only the glimmer of remembrance, the flash of light and grace that had exploded in his soul the day his cousin first had come. Who knoffs the value we posit in the memories of love? Or the power they have to summon us? So John was summoned, probably in much the same elusive fashion that he had been beckoned all along: a change of mood, a passing desert flower, the way a bird called, the different shape, of sky--and suddenly he knew the~time had come~ and he was ready. "And so it was that John the Baptist appeareOd., proclaiming a baptism ' of repentance" ~Mk 1:4). This is where we get things all confused. This is where we miss the prophetic message. We are so used to reading all'that John announced that~we never get to,discerning.all that John was asking. You~see, he lived in mtich the same condition .that we do'--waiting for 'a Someone whia is,to come. And he did not know any more than we, when that Someone would emerge nor how he could be known~ And so, the discipline of his river days was as intense and all embracing as the discipline of his wilderness. Nothing much had changed except that life was less his own. What had shifted was responsibility. Now he was em-powered to,convert and to baptize and this authority made him responsible for the followers he engendered. So that is why we find him sometimes a bit harsh--loud and somewhat strident, demanding and even fearsome. He was impelled to trumpeting because he was so needy. And the quality of his message derived from solitary waiting. ~ The gospel.tells us that "a feeling of expectancy had grown among the people" (Lk 3:15). How much more so had it grown within the heart of John? ~ ~ ~ The anguish of that wait must have been unbearable. "Is this the day? Is that the Man? Am I where I should be? What if 'he never comes? And 'why do all these people think 1 may be he? Am I?" ' We ~will never know the . terrible questions John kept buried in his heart but ~his flailing words indicate their power and their~ pain . : "Brood of vipers, who warned you to fly from the retribution that is coming? Even now the ax is~laid to the roots of the trees. Any tree which fails td'.'produce good fruit.owill be cut down and thrown into the fire'~ (Lk .3:7-9). In Process." John the Baptist /_499 And the flame of his own vigilant spirit burned without being con-sumed. Then, one day, He came. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he strode across ~the hills and asked for baptism. The relief which floods John is almost pathetic in expression. The force of vindication overwhelms him and in torrential words he iterates: This is the one I spoke of when I said: A man~is coming after me who ranks be'fore me because he existed before me. I did not know him myself, and yet it was to reveal him to .Israel that I came baptizing with water . I saw the Spirit coming down on him from heaven like a dove and resting On him. I did not know him myself~ but he who sent me to baptize with water had said to me: 'The man on whom you See the Spirit come down and rest is the one who is going to baptize with the Holy Spirit.' Yes, I have seen and I am the witness that he is the Chosen One of' God. (Jn 1:30-34). The ph'rases are haunting: "I did not know him myself, and. yet it was to reveal him to Israel that I came baptizing with water . I did not .know him myself., and yet I am the witness that he is the Chosen One of God.~ . John does~not verbalize the implied question but it resides: "Why did I not know him? Shouldn't I have known him? How could I be.asked 'to ~witness within such total darkness?" His only uttered protest, however, is humble simplicity::~ "It is I who need-baptism from you and yet you come to me" (Mr3: 14). His only answer received is to "Leave it like this for the time being; 'it is fitting that we should, in this way, .do.all' that righteousness demands." It is another womb experience: in darkness John feels the divine intrusion and in a mystical leap of faith, he assents to his vocation. And then divinity withdraws and John is left- to wait--"for all that.righteousness demands." . Certainly, if John had little foreknowledge,.of preceding~ even'tS, he has even les~ .cohcerning those to come. His mission apparently is fulfilled; his prophecy is verified; his baptism is authenticated. What more is there to do? For what does he still wait? What yet will "righteousness demand"? And then in mounting disbelief, John begins to see, the route---the :winding way. he must tread after straightening other ~roads; the~rough trail he must walk after smoothing other .paths. He never asks the question "What will become of me?" He merely waits,for it to be fulfilled. The womb, the wilderness and the rivet will meet,,within the prison. Sensing, this, John begins divesting. , What a lonely figure he becomes etched against the hills hand out-stretched, finger pointing towards-that elusive Someone;~''Look, there°is the Lamb of God" he,urges his disciples--and watches.as they walk away to follow a greater prophet. Even.when some faithful friends balk,, at such diminishment, John refuses consolation~and speaks of growing smaller. It is his life played backwards to confinement. It is the full cycle of seed 500 / Review ]or Religious, "l/olume 36, 1977/4 and flower and. seed. Cynics choose to call it the terminus of life. Some others, more graced, name it a beginning. All that John perceive~ is that, again, he lies in readiness, awaiting a delivery. Deep within the bowels of earth, he languishes in prison, formulating the tormented question that rings acrbss the ages: "Are you~the one who is to come or have we to wait for someone else?" It is a valid death cry. A man should know, shouldn't he, the reason for which he dies? If angering kings on moral issues involves the risk of life, shouldn't One" be assuaged in kho~ving the risk to be well taken? rAndso John awaits an answer from his removed, and distant Cousin-- some sort of vindication for the truth that he has uttered. It is a lonely wait made lonelier by the answer: "Go back and ~tell John what you have seen and heard: The blind see again, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear; the dead are raised to life, the Good News is proclaimed to the poor--~nd happy is the man who does'not lose faith in me (Lk 7:22-23). Jesus tells John nothing more than that he is to wait--to wait and see the signs fulfilled--signs which John foretold. He sends this message know-ing well that John will never behold any of that for which he preached and forowhich he will give his life. And with an utter emptiness, John accepts the answer, urged to a fidelity of heart ratified in faith. The rest is just the spectacle--bringing all things to fulfillment--"all that-righteousness demands." Thus, in one sense, John's life ends whim-sically, of no account or importance weighed against a girlish dance. And yet, in another ~ense, it ends with abrupt savagery, brutal and unpredictable asia woman's.rage. In the darkness of confinement John feels divine intrusion and in a .mystical leap of faith he assents to his vocation, And 'then divinity with-draws, and John is left to wait--to wait for his disciples to place him in the earth. And so, he does not hear, of course, the tribute he is paid: "I tell you, of all the children born of women, there is none greater than John" (Lk 7:28,). For he is still awaiting the ultimate birth, when Jesus the Messiah will deliver him from death. His. life is prophetic, not because of what he said, but because of how he .lived. The irony is that he did not know this. He was a man in process, with a heart full of questions, with a tongue full of words, with a head full of visions. He could never quite integrate the visions and the questions and the words because he lived in mystery. All he could do was wait~-- wait in silence and °darkness and faith--for the words to be uttered, for .the questions to be answered, for the vision to be fulfilled. And in this hi~ is our brother--and very near to us. Towards a Sacramental and Social Vision of Religious Life Philip J. Rosato, S.J. Father Rosato teaches theology at St. Joseph's College and also to the novices of his province (Maryland). He resides at St. Alphonsus House; 5800 Overbrook Ave.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Today there are signs that the crisis which has marked religious life since Vatican II is waning. Religious watched the pendulum swing from an overly institutional conception of vowed life during the pre-conciliar period, to an overly individual condeption of the vows during the period directly after the Council. If the one conception was so communal that the individual religious suffocated due to a lack of personal freedom and self-worth, the other was so intensely individualistic that the religious froze due to isolation and loneliness as each one sought separately to gain freedom and identity. The one extreme was God-centered almost .to the detriment of the human; the other was man-centered almost to the point of excluding the divine. Now a new synthesis of these opposing conceptions is emerging. There is a felt need to correlate the spiritual and the human, the ecclesial and the personal, the eschatologic'al and the psychological? Thus a more sacra-mental understanding of religious life is in the air. Today's religious 'are struggling to keep God-centeredness and man-centeredness together in fruitful tension, just as the two foci of an ellipse, though distinct, form one ovular figure. This paper will aim at developing some of the dimensions of this new turn in the theology of the religious life. 1This search after a synthesis is evident in the Documents o] the XXXil General Congregation o[ the Society o[ Jesus (Washington: The Jesuit Conference, 1975L the central theme of which is stated as "Our Mission Today: The Service of Faith and the Promotion of Justice," pp. 17-43. 501 502 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 Religious Life and Contemporary Theology: Living the Third Section of the Creed One way of schematizing the different theologies behind each of the ex-tremes noted above would be to look to the Apostles' Creed, a key statement of Christian belief and a touchstone of all theology. Previously religious life was too Father-centered, too centered on the first section of the creed. The vows took on such an ethereal and transcendent dimension that many religious stifled their humanity in order to live out their promise to the Father. The other extreme, centered solely on the second (Son) section of the creed, resulted in an incarnational or Christ-centered theology of religious life. In this model the humanity of the individual religious could find breathing room again; Jesus of Nazareth was seen as a paradigm of human freedom and self-possession. This Son-centered spirituality, though a corrective to the first model, proved in the end to lead many religious to such an affirmation of the human person that the need to lose one's self and to qualify self-centeredness through radical openness to the divine dimension was overlooked. Many religious ceased to pray, viewed com-munity life as a denial of their freedom and the institution of the Church and of their own congregation itself as a hindrance.to social relev~ance and engagement as well as to self-fulfillment. As religious search for a new balance today, it might be possible that a theology of the Spirit, that is, of the third section of the creed, could offer them a new model by which to combine Father, centeredness and Son-centeredness.'-' If the Spirit is the bond of love between the Father and the Son, it may be that Spirit-theology could lead to a synthetic theology of religious life which, grounded in love for God and man, avoids stressing either God's transcendence over his immanence, or Godls immanence over his transcendence. A Spirit-centered theology of the religious life could well bring religious back to the kind of balance which is currently being sought in the mainstream of theological speculatiofl today.:' " Why is this so? The third section of the creed links the Spirit with the pneumatic life of the community, with sacrament, service and mission. "I believe in the Holy Spirit, in the one, holy catholic and apostolic Church. I believe in the communion of saints." According to the Spirit-model~ religious life would be viewed as a specific way of living within the com-munion of the saints.The third section also affirms the reality of forgive-ness and of grace: "I believe in one baptism for the forgiveness of sins." If this were underlined, religious life could be seen as 9 special way of living out the Christian life of forgiveness and of being totally dependent on ~Karl Barth and Hans Urs von Balthasar, Einheit und Erneuerung der Kirche (Frei-burg: Paulusverlag, 1968), p. 12. aAvery Dulles, Models o[ the Church (New York: Doubleday & Co., 1974). pp. 58-70, where Dulles discusses the Church as a sacrament, a model which balances visible and invisible aspects of the Church most directly. Towards a Vision of Religious Life / 503 baptismal grace? Finally, the third section stresses the eschatological hope .of all Christians for themselves and for the whole cosmos: "I believe in the resurrection of the body and life everlasting." According to this phrase, religious must be marked as men and women of daring, of vision, of hope. In short, a~ theology of religious life based on the third'section 0f the creed ,would be pneumatic, ecclesial, apostolic, dependent on grace and eschat-ological. Inca word, it would be sacramental; it would take both the divine and the human most seriously and keep them in continual tension. But sacramental means more than bringing the divine and the human 'into a synthetic vision. Sacrament in this context also has to do 'with the sign-function which makes religious life distinctive. Religious live from grace more~ visibly and more unmistakably, that is, more sacramentally, than other Christians. Their life is not better than that of the baptized layman or laywoman, but it is less ambiguouS a sign, a pointer, a witness to the 'reality of grace? Religious live at the center of the Church and yet point to its eschatological edge. They live in the world as much as lay people do, but they are fascinated by the frontier, by the "not yet" of the promised kingdom of God. Religious life thus has a prophetic and end-time char-acter. This particular form of ecclesial life gives unmistakable and visible expression to the pneumatic, enthusiastic and eschatological elements of faith which are essential to the whole Church. Religious manifest God's victorious grace in the world by pointing beyond the world: The com-munity of religious humbly gives witness to the reality of paschal grace for 'all~ men and women by living~totally from forgiveness and from hope. Sacramental thus means that religious unmistakably witness to the divine and to the human in Christ and in his Church, and that Christ!s restless dynamism and his restful faithfulness to. God a~d man are most clearly symbolized in the ~world through the lives of religious in the Church,'~ The religious as such are at rest and yet restless, very human and very close to God as Christ was. This is the sacramental, Spirit-cgntered quality of re-ligious life. , It would be wrong, therefore, to separate the sacramental character of religious life from its 'social character. For the social and the sacramental go hand in hand. The vows ar~ ~not private promises; they are public signs in the midst of the world which offer prgmise to all men and women of the ultimate alleviation of want and pain at the eschatological fulfillment of the human and of the natural world. Too often in th+ past the theology of the vows had tgo little to do with the poverty of the world, with its loneliness 4Joseph Ratzinger, Introduction to Christianity, trans, by J. R. Foster (New York: The Seabury Press, 1969), pp. 257-259. :'Karl Rahner, "The Life of the Counsels," .Theology Digest XIV (1966) 224-227. "Karl Barth, Dogmatics in Otttline, trans, by G. T. Thomson (New ~York: Harper & Row, 1959), p. 148. 504 / Review [or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 and search for love and intimacy, with its desire for independence and free-dom. Poverty, chastity and obedience were, as it were, divorced from the real needs of others. Today :it is important to view the vows in light of the social and human problems of the whole community of men and women,r Only in this light will religious life maintain its true sign-function. In the midst of human poverty, voluntary poverty says no to man's injustice and lack of concern for the brokenhearted and the hungry. In the face of the sexual loneliness and frustration of contemporary society voluntary chastity says no to man's search for warmth merely through uncommitted pleasure. In the midst of a world crying out for freedom, voluntary obedience says no to man's use of brute power and violence to bring about a more inde-pendent future. Today the sign-function of religious life, its sacramental witness to the power of the Spirit of God, must be seen as most .relevant to the social problems of the day. The more identical religious are to their vows; the more relevant they will be to society in its deepest yearning for liberation,s The future of religious life, therefore, must be more sacramental and more social. The rest of this p.aper will try to spell out these two themes by.examining each of the three vows. One preliminary question, however, still remains. Which of. the vows, by its very nature, is most clearly pri-mary, in that it best ,demonstrates the sacramental and social dependence of religious on grace? It would seem that obedience is primary, since, though many Christians may live a poor and a chaste life, only religious live out poverty and chastity in the context of obedience to other members of the communion of saints in their particular religious institute? Religious find God's will for them by discerning the needs of the world with the help of the religious superiors in the community. Furthermore, obedience is the hallmark of Christ's own relationship to the Father; he humbled himself to the conditions of his human existence and became obedient unto death. In what follows, therefore, the main stress will be put on obedience as the distinctively evangelical way of living in the communion of saints. Then poverty and chastity will be seen in light of obedience, Finally community life itself will be viewed as resulting from the three .vows" and as essential to the prophetic and critical apostolate of the religious, in the world. In this-way it is hoped that a view of the religious life of the future will be rDocuments o] the XXXII General Congregation o] the Society o] Jesus, p. 13. sJiirgen Moltmann, The Crucified God: The Cross o] Christ as the Foundation and Criticism o] Christian Theology, trans, by R. A. Wilson and J. Bowden (New York: Harper & Row, 1974), pp. 7-18. 'aKarl Rahner, ',A Basic lgnatian Concept: Some Reflections on Obedience," trans, by Joseph P. Vetz Woodstock Letters 86 (1957), pp. 302-305. As opposed to others, such as Ladislas Orsy whose work is cited below, Rahner chooses obedience and not chastity as the central vow, and sees poverty and chastity as two ways of living out the total commitment to grace which obedience signifies. Towards a Vision of Religious Life / 505 presented which is both more balanced and more relevant, more sacra-mental and more social. Obedience and the Human Cry for Freedom: Becoming Independently Loyal Religious When the early Christian communities came together, they were known for their desire to discover God's will for them through corporate discern-ment which had as its aim a concerted effort to preach the gospel and min-ister to the needy. Each member of the community was aware of his or her own gifts and was allowed to exercise them in the common task of wit-nessing to the grace of Christ in the world. Yet each individual was also loyal to the whole community. This type of fruitful balance between indi-viduals and the institution led the early Christians to see the relevance of their life-style for those outside the community who were searching for freedom as well as for unity."' For too long religious superiors in the Church did not allow individual religious to be independent, to exercise per-sonal responsibility or to find ways of making religious life relevant to the hunger for freedom in the world which marks the history.of modern man. As religious look into the future, it seems that obedience is a possible waY of expressing both the sacramental and the social dimension of being a Christian. Obedience is not the loss or relinquishment of personal freedom, but the means by which religious are more open to grace and more sensi-tive to the cry for liberation which is being heard throughout the globe.11 Through obedience religious give witness both to. the interrelation of the divine and the human in the world, and to the freedom of the gospel which has profound significance for the liberation which is so desired by all today. The religious obedience of tomorrow must therefore become more sacramental, that is, more unmistakably a sign of the divine and the human dimensions of freedom. The religious must become an independently loyal 'person. This means that more personal freedom on the part of the indi-vidual should lead to greater corporate fidelity and commitment rather than to less. If before, obedience either constricted religious or left them so free that they were not working together in a concerted way, obedience in the future must combine a healthy sense of individual inde.pendence with a pronounced sense of corporate responsibility for the preaching of the gospel and for the service of the whole human community. The more self-deter-mined and independent a religious is, the more ready he or she should be to accept the discernment of the community as it decides how the aposto-late can be carried out effectively. Thus obedience in the future should not 1°See-Martin Hengel, Poverty and Riches in the Early Church (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1974). 11Karl Rahner, "A Basic Ignatian Concept: Some Reflections on Obedience," pp. 299 and 308. 506 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 be understood as submission to traffic laws which govern the well-being of the community, but as a quality of ecclesial existence which is not an end in itself but which exists for the concerted apostolate of witness and ser-vice. 1'-' The individual charisms of religious should be fostered so that the ecclesial service of the whole congregation is intensified. In tfiis way obedience will have a pneumatic and eschatological character and be an unmistakable sign that the Church depends totally on grace by discover-ing God's will through a genuine listening to the fellowship of the saints. Once religious obedience regains its original sign-value by producing men and women for the Church who are independently loyal, this vow will no longer be seen as simply a private matter between the individual religious and God through his or her superiors. Obedience will be a sign to the whole society in which the religious lives and works. It will broadcast the fact that a life of faith has tremendous ,import for the liberation movement.13 What all men and 'women seek is a way of being free individually and cor-porately; in their scepticism over whether such a realization of corporate freedom is possible, they turn away from Christian revelation ~and ground their freedom on some other basis. Religious who can' live in obedience and who are still free to contribute their talents and energies to the human task of building' up the world in expectation of the coming kingdom of God offer the broader society around them a paradigm of human freedom in brotherhood. This societal dimension of religious obedience is not as emphasized as it should be. Religious tend to view themselves in abstrac-tion from the world which is searching for a genuine form of freedom. The eschatological sign-function of obedience, however, is that it speaks not only to. 'those in the Church and in the congregation, but also to those out-side it who yearn for liberation. In the future religious obedience must be so conceived .and so lived that it becomes a beacon of hope for those who hunger for independence in the context of interdependence.14 In this way religious obedience is itself an invitation to faith in Jesus Christ and to hope in him and his Spirit as the guarantors of man's search for liberation within a community. Poverty and the Human Cry |or Justice: Becoming Self-possessed, Sharing Religious , ~ ~ As was the case with obedience, religious poverty was often presented as an ascetical norm by which an individual religious could attain detachment from the world and lean towards God alone. This concept of poverty, how- 12Ladislas M. Orsy, Open to the Spirit: Religious Li]e alter Vatican 11 (Washington: Corpus Books, 1968), pp. 159-160. 13Gustavo Gutierrez, A Theology o] Liberation: History, Politics and Salvation, trans. by Sr. Caridad Inda and John Eagleson (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1973), pp. 104-105. 14Avery Dulles, The Survival'o] Dogma: Faith, Authority and Dogma it~ a Changh~g World (New York: Doubleday & Co., 1971), pp. 52-57. Towards a Vision o[ Religious Li[e / 507 ever, had two debilitating effects: it made religious doubt their own self-worth by~ creating in them guilt feelings concerning their use of material things, and it isolated religious poverty from real poverty and thus deprived the former of its relevance for the latter. Many religious lost all sense of their own personal dignity by never becoming responsible in their use of possessions. Often they were not taught how to 'treasure and protect the goods at their disposal. Poverty was more a matter of not using something than it was of sharing goods with the needy and the hungry. As religious look to the future, it seems that religious poverty will be a way of becoming self-possessed and yet sharing persons.1:' This vow should not make religious childishly dependent on superiors, but responsible Christians who share all they have and are with others. Religious poverty should open the hearts of religious to the cry of the poo.r for bread, for protection and for justice. The vow of poverty can only do this if it becomes more sacramental and more social. The religious poverty of tomorrow must take on its original sign-func-tion. It must be an eschatolog!cal sign of hope in the midst of human want. It can only do so if religious freely choose to identify with the poor in order to bring them to faith in Christ's promise to be with them in their hunger and' to alleviate their misery. Religious are not destitute, but they freely elect to be like the very poor, so as to share whatever excess goods they have with their brothers and sisters in poverty."~ In effect religious pattern forth a model, of a sharing. Christian community to the whole Chuich. In this way religious poverty regains its prophetic and end-time character. It urges the whole Church tO be equally concerned with the hungry and encourages those who live 'in unjust' circumstances to hope. in the Christ who became poor,for their sake and who is preSent to them through the love of religious. The poverty of religious is 'therefore not an end in itself, but a form of ecclesial life for the destitute, so that they can hear .the gospel and taste its power. Religious who are self-possessed, sharing people give witness to their dependence on grace in the use and possession of material goods. They are an unmistakable sign to the world that the Christian community does not exist for itself and is. not insensitive to human misery,lr Religious poverty is a catalyst which makes the whole Church bring the grace of Christ into the homes and the hearts of the poor. Religious poverty, as a.sacramental sign,,mustrediscover its sociological roots as well as its theological significance. Just as the Eucharist is a meal l~Horacio de.la Costa, "A .More Authentic iPoverty," Studies in the Spirituality o[ Jesuits Vlli (1976), pp. 56-57. 16David B. Knight, "St. Ignatius' Ideal of Poverty," Studies it, the Spirituality o[ Jesuits IV (1972), pp. 25-30. lrPhilip Land, "Justice, Development, Liberation and the Exercises," Studies itl the International Apostolate o] Jesuits V (1976), pp. 19-21. 508 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 which has social as well as re!igious dimensions, since Christ cannot be recognized in the eucharistic bread if he is not first recognized in the poor and the hungry, so religious poverty presupposes that the religious choose poverty because they recognize Christ's presence among those who are in ghettoes, in prisons, ;in nursing homes and in soup kitchens,is Byobeing poor, religious,,also identify with Christ in the helpless, the confused, the power-less, the uneducated and the injured even in the midst of affluence. This identification is not, as the Marxists claim, the way in which Christians sanction injustice. Rather. the religious chooses to be identified with the poor so that Christ's promise of ultimate liberation from want becomes a present reality for the destitute. The charity which being voluntarily poor makes possible is nothing else than the religious' desire to feed the poor in the name of Christ and thus to bring them more than bread, shelter, technical assistance and organizational techniques. The religious witnesses to God's grace in the face of the evil that does more than deprive the poor of food and power, but also deprives them of dreams and hope?"' Chastity and' t.he Human Cry for Warmth and Fidelity: Becoming Sexual and Celibate Religious At a time when the sexual revolution is sending shock waves through the institution of marriage, religious celibacy certainly ~akes on a different character than it did only a decade ago. In the past most people viewed the religious as asexual people who lacked human affection and warmth. This critique was partially justified. Many religious were taught to suppress their sexual feelings and even more their sexual identity, The beauty of human sexuality was often underplayed in formation, and religious were encouraged to live as though they did not have bodies, feelings, sexual roles or psychological needs for intimacy and friendship. Recently religious have rediscovered how to be at peace with the fact that they are sexual beings, and are now learning tO live with their sexuality by making it a vital source of energy and enthusiasm in their apostolates,'-"' Yet there is a deeper mean-ing to religious chastity which is opening up to religious in the face of modern man's frustration and loneliness in an age of sexual liberty. Many people feel isolated even in the most intimate of relationships and are exaspe{ated when the experience of marital love disintegrates into infidelity, separation or divorce. As religious become more aware of the need for bal-ance in their daily lives as celibates, they must also become more aware of the social significance of their total dependence on grace in the matter lsPhilip J. Rosato, "World Hunger and Eucharistic TheologY,," America 135 (1976), pp. 47-49. ~"JiJrgen Moltmann, Man: Christian Anthropology in the Conflicts o[ the Present, trans, by John Sturdy (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1974), pp. 116-117. ZODonald ,Goergen, The Sexual Celibate (New York: Seabury Press, 1974), pp. 115- 116. Towards a Vision o[ Religious Li]e / 509 of sexuality as this speaks to those who .are unable to make any kind.of lasting commitment."' There is no doubt that the religious chastity of tomorrow must be more sacramental than it ever was before. Religious must' be human and warm as well as genitally pure. The more their bodies and hearts belong to Godi the more they must be at the service of the love and the friendship of Christ. Celibacy .can no longer be an escape from affectionate relationships which can lead others to faith.'-'-~ A sacramental conception of chastity means that religious must be more free to give witness to the depth of divine love by practicing human love faithfully, Religious can only do this not by sup-pressing, but by channeling their sexual feelings and needs. Religious celibacy must not be seen as a relinquishment of sexual identity, but as a free renunciation of valid, though ambiguous, human intimacy and ex-clusiveness. Human sexuality is therefore an important force in the Church since it gives men and women the power to introduce others into the loving relationship with God which is the end of all love.'-':' A sacramental religious chastity would.~aim to combine a true .love ot~ God with a true 10ve of' other men and women. Often the sign-function of religious chastity is lost wlaen religious fail to love deeply on a human level precisely because they do not love deeply on the supernatural level. A proper balance of both affectionate love for God and affectionate love~for others is the challenge of being both sexual and celibate. Only if the religious loves genuinely, does he or she witness to the eschatological goal of all hum~in love when Christ will return in glory to lead to completion the men and women of all ages who have ¯ sought to reach out to others and commit themselves to him through them. The sacramental, then, cannot be seen in isolation from the social. If religious free themselves from exaggerated 6goism in the form. of self-serv-ing gratification which results in insensitivity to the needs of others, it is only for the sake of the kingdom of Christ and for the sake of others who are lonely, frustrated, unfree sexually or subjected to sexual abuse and lack of fidelity.:4 There is thus a very legitimate social aspect to religious chas-tity. This vow is not simply a matter,of private devotion; it has by its very nature a sociological function. This function is not simply critical in that' it protests against the excesses which result from sexual force. The sociological -°x John C. Haughey, Should Anyone Say Forever?: On Making, Keeping and Breaking Commitments (New York: Doubleday & Co., 1975), pp. 101-105. -°-~Ladislas M. Orsy, op. cit., pp. 94-97, where Orsy develops his thesis that virginity is the source of all other aspects of religious consecration. See also: Vincent O'Flaherty, "Some Reflections on Jesuit Commitment," Studies in the Spirituality o[ Jesuits 11I (1971), pp. 42-46. '-':~Donald Goergen; op. cit., pp. 220-223. See also: Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, The Divine Milieu (New York: Harper & Row, 1960), pp. 81-86. '-'~John 0. Meany, "The Psychology of Celibacy: An In-depth View," Catholic Mind LXIX (1971), pp. 18-20. 510 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 function of religious chastity is also positive. The religious models forth a pattern of human love which is not merely a blind effort to distract,man from death through embracing sexual pleasure. Christian love, as the religious :livesoit, symbolizes God's unswerving love for all and thus lends to, human love the character of a relationship with the source of all affection and warmth--God!s own trinitarian community of love. Just as obedience offers the human .search for independence an ultimate vindication, and just as religious poverty offers human want ultimate hope, so religious chastity has a social significance. It Offers the lonely and the frustrated, ~.who see human love as the only escape from absurdity, a vision of love which ultimately vindicates their own disillusionment over ,human. infidelity and hard-hearted: ness.~'~ In the person of the religious a type of faithful human love is ex-perienced which points to divine love and which thus attests that there is ~a deep, meaning to human tears and-hurt. In this sense religious chastity is sacramental as well as social. ,Religious Community and Christian Mission: the Locus of Healing Criticism o The basic thesis of this paper is that, just as religious faith in geheral has a sociological dimension in that it is concerned with justice, so also does religious life. The more identical religious are with their own tradition, the more able they are to criticize the society around them when it fails to live up to its responsibility to heal broken men and women.'-'~' Just as the whole Church serves faith by promoting justice, so the religious community lives out its prophetic and end:time sign-function by bringing the healing presence of Christ to the unfree, the poor and the lonely. The other theme, which has been woven into the first, is that religious can only be signs'of a critical and healing love if they themselves are balanced, Only if religious channel human talent and divine grace into an on-going sacramental.synthesis, can the~, carry out their call to be Christ's healing presence where men and women .harm each other by not living according to human,, and religious values.° The quest for personal identity which many religious are going through today is not irrelevant to the quest for the social relevance of the whole Church which is more pressing.:~ This paper would qike to assert that a more sacramental type of religious life would lead to a more socially relevant, precisely because socially critical, understanding of vowed life. -~Peter L. Berger, A Rumor o] Angels: Modern Society attd the RedisCovery o] the Supernatural (New York: Doubleday & Co., 1969), pp. 53~75. "~Pedro Arrupe, "The Hunger for Bread and Evangelization: Focus on the 'Body of Christ, the Church' in the Service of Faith and the Promotion of Justice," Interna-tional Symposium on Hunger: The 41st International Eacharistic Congress (Phila-delphia: St. Joseph's College Press, 1976), pp. 21-24.o -°:John Courtney Murray, The Problem o] God Yesterday and Today (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1964), pp. 119-121. Towards a Vision o[ Religious "Li]e / .511 -, In effect~ this paper is advocating that a Spirit-centered Christology~be the mrdel for an understanding of the sacramental, that is, the spiritual and the social, significance of religious life today. For. the Spirit-filled Jesus did not allow himself to be categorized or to be understood solely in terms of any of the typical expectations which were prevalent' in his time. Instead he insisted on his identity as the one who proclaimed that the kingdom of God is near. The close identification between Spirit-theology and eschatology in the Scriptures leads us to see that Jesus' eschatological message was the fruit of his Spirit-filled being.~ In him God's future broke into the world time. God's kingdom dawned upon man and offered the whole cosmos the ability to head towards a new future that was guaranteed to it by the fully Spirit-filled and glorified Jesus. A Spirit-filled person and a Spirit-filled community, therefore, is esgentially a critical one; it is restless until the c~osmos is complete, until the kingdom'of God breaks definitely int6 its rriidst. Yet it,is also at rest because that kingdom is already a present phenomenon through the Spirit's activity in the ecclesial°community spe-cifically and in the whole cosmos as well.~' Religious who live together at the heart of the .Church are particularly the locus where the Spirit's activity everywhere is made most visible and most inc~indescent. A religious com-munity is a critical'community because it is not totally at peace until the kingdom is manifestly present. This critical function of religious communities in the Church adds a special~character to all of the vows, to their life-together and to their apostolate. As indicated in this paper, all of the vows are eschatological, and therefore critical, by nature. Th(y do not criticize society for the sake of criticism, but in order to awaken all men and women tb the'presence of God's kingdom which is already hiddi~n among them. Religious are also 'critical of each other since they are corhpelled to urge their brothers and sisters to live in the presence of the coming God and to view all things, and especially the community itself, as elements ~of an as yet incomplete cosmos which needs the healing and purifying presence of the Spirit.:"' If religious are critical of many aspects of 'their community 'life, it is not because~ they are discontent by nature, but because they long for the ever-fuller manifestation of the kingdom in their community, and thUg call their ¯ fellow religious to be what they are meant to be: a sign of the eschatological promise of God in the every-day life of the world. Re, ligious witness to God's coming in the midst of~ man's coming and going. The same is true of the zsC. K. Barrett, The Holy Spirit in the Gospel Tradition. 5th ed. (London: SPCK Press, 1970), pp. 153-156. :gWolfhart Pannenberg, The Apostles' Creed in the Light o] Today's Questions, trans. by Margaret Kohl (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1972), pp. 139-143. aopierre Teilhard de,Chardin, The Divine Milieu, p. 112. See also: Avery Dulles, "The Church, the Churches and the Catholic Church," Theological Studies XXXIII (1972), pp. 222-224. 512 / Review ]or .Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 apostolate. Religious seek to make their work a sign, of the eschatological promise of God. If any work loses this end-time character and does not sign forth to others a longing for God's ultimate fulfillment of all creatures, it,has. Ios!~ its salt. Religious community, therefo.re, is not a haven of peace, but a place where members of the communion of saints strive to be ever more Church, ever more a community of pilgrims who await the coming of the Lord and work to prepare his way.:"- In the end religious communities, like the Lord whom they follow, canno~t, be categorized since they have a unique mission. That' mission is service.of men and women in the world with the specific intention of open-ing them to the Spirit who, is the bringer of the kingdom. Religious are not private individuals with an interior depth and an exterior way of life which facilitates and disciplines their co-existence for its own sake. Religious are social beings whose religious commitment is a public sign of God's promise. Their life is sacramental because it is a confluence of the material and the spiritual, the social and the religious, ~just as the being of Jesus was and remains sacramental.:~ Life in the third section of the creed is essentially sacramental life. A visible community of men and women exist in unity, in holiness, in universal openness and in apostolic service. They proclaim for-giveness and look to hope; they allow the Holy Spirit~to work among men, so that he can create a human body of men and women who are joined in word and sacrament to Jesus Christ. They are living signs in each genera-tion of the Church that the Spirit-filled Jesus will return and that he is in-deed already among men and women who wait in hope for him. The special form of life in the communion of saints and of life in the context of the third section of the creed make religious a healing and yet critical presence in society. As independently loyal, as self-possessed and sharing, as sexual and celibate persons who live in commun.ity and witness to the social dimension of the gospel, religious are a model Church in minia-ture, a local congregation of believers who have a sacramental as well as a social function.:':~ Their very existence is a visible sign that Spirit-filled indi-viduals in community can heal the brokenhearted and at the same time criticize the social institutions which are indifferent to the unfree, the poor and the lonely. In light of the thesis which forms the underpinnings of this paper, namely that religious life is both sacramental and social, it can be sa~!d that to deny either element would be to .lessen both the identity of religious life and its sociological relevance. The vows of religious make them into a community which can heal as well as criticize. Religious stand up in the cen.ter of the Churqh and, like Jesus at Nazareth's synagogue, .~lAvery Dulles, Models o] the Church, pp. 149-150. a~Edward Schillebeeckx, Christ, the Sacrament o1 the Encounter with God (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1963), pp. 13-20. 3aKarl Rahn~r. "The Life of the Counsels." Theology Digest X1V (1966), pp. 226-227. Towards a Vision of Religious Life / 513 identify themselves with the words from Isaiah which he chose to define his own mission: The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord (Lk 4:18-19). This is the sacramental and social function of religious life. The vows speak to the world in a way which reminds all men and women of the healing work of Jesus of Nazareth and which causes them to gaze into the future and to be critical of the present, since they wait for the promise that "the kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ" (Rv 11:15). Deep within "becoming seed," sheltered in soil of fertile earth, life stirred-- and broke the barrior of crusted shell. Rooting down and pushing up, till tender shoot, warmed.by sun and washed in r~in, ., ~ budded :i prelude of l~idden beauty among foliage of natured kin: ,Serenely being, silently becoming, patiently maturing-- flowered sleep---still heavy and cloistered. Gentle wind touches, but bends not the bough: Storm pellets thee earth, but yields vanquished to supple strength of maturing bloom. Nature's war ended, beauty emerges, uniqu~e witness of silent fidelity-- of woven strands of love, a flower unlike it~ kih-- beyond and beside all others. Humble~herald of "terrestial otherness," prophetic vision of "Celestial bliss." Sister Mary Nanette 'Herman', S.N.D. 1600 Carlin Lane McLean, VA 22101 The Kingdom of God --Our Home Donald McQuade, M.M. Father McQuade is stationed at the residence of the Maryknoll Fathers; Box 143; Davao City, Philippines 9501." Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother and his mother's sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary of Magdala. Seeing his mother and the-disciple he loved standing near her, Jesus said to his mother, 'Woman, this is your son.' Then to the disciple he said, 'This is your mother.' And from that moment the disciple made a place for her in his home (Jn 19:25-27). The Catholic Church has traditionally seen in this passage of John's gospel the role of Mary as the spiritual mother not only of the Church, but of each individual Christian--each of us who share by the mystery of grace in the very life of Jesus himself, Mary's son. In going beyond this basic insight, the pas'sage also reveals the incredible depths of the love of Jesus for all of his brothers and sisters, ~and perhaps in a particular way fbr those who, like "the disciple he loved," have responded to his invitation to leave all things and follow him completely,, and who continue today to stand with him by the cross. JesuS' words--and the graceful gift they contain-- spoken to John on Calvary, l~ave been repeated to all of his disciples and friends down through the. ages. They too, like John, are to "make a place for Mary in their home." But just where is the home of a disciple in which Mary is to live? It is obviously more than any physical reality. Even a "~,arm ~ind healthy milieu of loving human relationships, though necessary and contributory, still do not completely encompass the reality of a disciple',s home. For the home of a disciple must ultimately be conCerned with the depths of his faith, his hope and hi~s lov.e. It is there at the very roots of his being, where he comes in touch with God :an~l where the Spirit moves and breathes the life and the Word within him, that a disciple is truly "at home." 514 The Kingdom o[ God." Our Home / 515 Quite,simply, the home of a disciple is the kingdom of God. And the kingdom is ,within us (.Lk 17:21). A disciple makes .himself at home to the. extent that ~he: shares in the kingdom, to the degree ~that.the Lord lives within: him. And so, a chosen friend of our Lord is really meant to. be at home.:anywhere in the world. ~ On the night, before he died, Jesus promised his friends his parting gift of,~peace and joy in the Spirit (Jn 14:27)~ To be at peace and full of a deep and abiding joy; to be so free in today's regimented world that a ~disciple can be completely and fully himself---to others, to God, and to him-selfLto trust in the .Lord's care totally; to have a joyous and real hope .in life; to see the miracles of creation-and, of .God's loving providence con-tinually unfolding in the world about him despite the evil, the suffering, the sin.; to love deeply; and in turn to know and feel oneself incredibly loved .--this is a disciple's home; this is the kingdom of God on earth. However, the gift of a home in our Father's house which was prepared for~and given to us by Jesus (Jn 14:2) is, like,all his gifts, not an exclusive or selfish right for the disciple alone: It is given to be shared. It grows more loving and more profound to the extent that others are invited to enter into itnf0r we are compelled by Jesus,.himself to.invite our brothers and sisters into our home, into the kingdom. This is an invitation desperately"neede~d in~the.world today--the witness of men and ~women whose lives' reflect the peace and love of Christ and become an,, unspoken invitation t6 "come and see" the Source of such joy. So much has been written in recent years (and which can be readily seen and experienced all around us) of the alienation and loneliness of the men and women of our times. Threatened, on edge, never truly relaxed, so often without faith or a deeply meaningful .reason for life, many people today live, in Thoreau's phrase, "lives of quiet desperation." Increasingly, relief is sought in an excessive dependence on alcohol, in drugs, perhapg in hedonism or some other temporary escape. But the haunting and ultimately deadly loneliness, isolation and meaning-lessness of much of modern life always returns. This experience, so common today, of loneliness and despair, of never really feeling at home in the world is captured perfectly in Jesus" parable of the prodigal son. After the son has squandered everything he had in-herited on a life of debauchery, he is left totally alone, abandoned by his friends, reduced to a job of feeding swine while he himself is starving. In despe.ration he decides to return to his father, now emptied of all his former pride and arrogance, tremendously ashamed and feeling absolutely worth-less, a broken man, but a man who admits to being what he is--a sinner. He now seeks only enough to keep alive; and so he turns, to go home. In his state and in anticipation of meeting his father, he comes up with a prac-ticed, rather stilted request: "Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you; I no longer deserve to be your son; treat me as one of your paid servants." So he left the place and went back to his father. While he 516 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 was still a long way off,~ his father saw him and was moved with pity. He ran to the boy clasped him in his arms and kissed him tenderly (Lk 15: 18-21). The.son hesitantly ~begins to recite his rehearsed line, "I no longer deserve to be your son . ".but the father doesn't even hear him in his overwhelming love and desire to give back to his son all that he has. "My son was dead and has come back to life; he was lost and is found." "My son, after so long a time in lonely and desperate searching, in suffering and being shattered by despair. -. my son who was lost has.come home." Thankfulness, joy, peace--there is really no word to describe the feel-ing of a man or woman who has deeply experienced the infinite and tender love of God our Father personally. Nor can any words ever adequately con-vey the fullness of the kingdom of God--the loving home into which the Spirit leads us even now. The whole life of Jesus has been an incredible gilt to us. At the very end of it, on the cross, he gave us the gift he held most dear in this world --Mary his beloved mother, to be our mother. We are "to make a place for her in our 'home." For she truly belongs in o,ur home, in the kingdom of God within us. This home needs a mother; the kingdom is incomplete without her. For our home, the kingdom, is in the final analysis the life of Jesus Christ, the incarnate Son of God, within us, and concerning the mystery of his life, upon which all creation hinges, Mary his mother most definitely has a very special place. Mary: Type and Model of the Church Barbara Albrecht Translated by St. Lucia Weidenhaven, O.D.(7. Doctor Barbara Albrecht has studied Catholic and Protestant theology, philosophy and Christian social studies at Marburg, Ttibingen, Freiburg and Miinster, receiving her doctorate in Catholic theology. She is head of the Training Center for Parish helpers ¯ in both Bottrop and Miinster. This article originally appeared in Christliche Inner-lichkeit II, I. Sister Lucia is a member of the Carmelite Convent; N. unnery Lane; Darlington; Co. Durham, England D13 9PN. It is not particularly fashionable to speak about Mary. But for the sake of the Church, which we are ourselves, it is necessary--one could even say urgently necessary--to swim against the stream. What is our situation? Hans Urs von Balthasar hits the nail on the head when he says: "The post-conciliar Church has largely lost her mystic features. She has become a church of permanent dialogues, organizations, commissions, congresses, synods, councils, academies, parties, pressure-groups, functions, structures and changes of structures, sociological experi-ments, statistics: more than ever before a ma!.e church." Without Mary the Church becomes "functional, soul-less, a hectic brganization without resting-point, alienated . . . and because in this male world one new ideology replaces the other, the atmosphere becoines polemical, c~itichl, humorless, and finally dull, and people leave his Church in masses.''1 There are many reasons for ~this state of things. Let us disentangle a single thread and think for a while about it. Let us ask ourselves whether, perhaps, a sometimes excessively isolated Marian piety, no longer rooted in the theology of Christ and of the Church, has not contributed to this IK/arstellungen (Freiburg, 1971). 517 5111 / Review for Religious, Volume 36;~ 1977/4 situation¯ Not without reason does the glorious final chapter of the Dog-matic Constitution on the Church of VatiEan II point out that true devo-tion to Mary must grow from true doctrine. But this question we only wish to ask in passing. Our aim is to speak of Mary herself: to contemplate not so much what she is, but how she is what she is: anima ecclesiastica--the clear, transparent type and model of the Church. Mary as type of the Church: thus she was seen and loved esp~ecially by the Christians and theologians of the first centuries who pondered on the tremendous challenge this implies. If we moderns wish to know what it means to be the Church, we, too, have to think about her .again, because in Mary the Church's attitude is exemplified in crystal purity. We can here only sketch a few outlines of this Marian-ecclesial attitude. Mary--Type of the Obedient Church Let us recall the beginnings of our whole Christian and ecclesial existence: Nazareth; a young woman, Mary, taken into service by God as receptacle for his eternal Word the mighty, infinite Word; Mary, wholly listening, all openness, space for the Holy Spirit, type of a Church not regarding herself, not centered around herself, but always orientated towards God: at his disposal in unconditional obedience, lovingly bpen to his Word, and putting no limit~ in his way. l~either man,'nor the Church, but only God has all the right. Mary is surrendered to him "in strength and in weak-ness: in the strength of one who is ready for anything God or~dains, and in the weakness of one who has already been taken possession of completely, weak eno~ugh to recognize the power of God.''~ "My grace is sufficient for thee, for power~is made perfect in infirmity" (2 Co 12, 9). This directive is not only given to Paul, it is given to Mary, to the Church, to every single one of us. And whfit is the word which God addresses t6 Mary? The word of the good news of the coming of God, of the I~irth of the Lord among men, an-nouncement of the joy that shall be for all the people. The~Angel says t0 her, "The Holy Spirit will come upon you, the power of the Most,.High~ will overshadow you. You shall conceive and bear a son." He does not ask cautiously, "Would you be ready to receive the word of G0dT' No detailed explanations are given, but it is stated very definitely: so it shall be! This is an absolute divine command. Th9 weight of the grace that God should allow a human being to cooperate in the salvation of the world falls on Mary. Not her action, but the action of God "not her~'rea~li-ness, but that of God, is the first thing for man. The initiative rests with God, not with man. Mary's action, the cooperation of the Church, is accomplished in receiving, in the acceptance of the saving-act of God.oTh6 s~mple wholehearted Yes of obedient love is the answer. "I am the hand- 2Adrienne von Speyr. Mary: Type and Model o[ the Church / 519 maid of the Lord, be it done unto me according to your word." Uncondi-tional readiness for God's demand, obedience that cuts into the flesh; a response that is a plunge into an abyss, because it is God alone who gives fullness and content to this response, and to any genuine response in the Church. There is no margin left for any possible and justifiable ifs and buts. "You shall . " And on Mary's part there is no demand for ano.explana-tion, h new exegesis, as it were, for God could'not possibly have meant what' he said!--There is only Yes or No, surrender or refusal. The word is clear as crystal, and, so is the answer of obedience. We are at the origin not of a "stretched" or "colored" obedience, but at the origin of the "uncolored obediences" to use an image,of Adrienne von Speyr. "In self-evidence, be-yond all,discussion, all rationalization.":' Here lies the source given and received as grace--of the possibility to dare to say Yes to the complete discipleship, as Church and member of the Church. Here, in the obedience of Mary the Church begins to be the handmaid of the Lord--confronted with the total demands of the cidl of God. Here is the source, the spring of the clear sound of the Fiat rnihi which in numberless variations has been repeated and maintained in the. Church of God throughout the ages, and must be continued throughout time to come: an echo resounding eternally. The .prayer of St. Ignatius, for example, ig. one such variation, which has influenced the history of the Church: Sume et accipe . Take, Lord, all my,,freedom.' . One could~equally mention the life and prayer of a Charlesde Foucauld, an Adrienne von Speyr, an .Edith Stein, a Mother Teresa, or other ardent members of the Church in our day, They all live in the Church in the sign of Mary, obedient to the Father's will and open to the Holy Spirit. " Nazareth-remains all through Church history as the focal-point where freedom and obedience meet; where the spotlight is thrown on the invisible grace which makes it possible to say: "All freedom unfolds from surrender and the renunciation of unrestraint. A~i:I from this t~reedom in subjection," from the obedience of those totally committed to the Lord, "proceeds every kind of fruitfulness and holiness in the Churt:h."' It is for us .to ask ourselves whethe~r we have not forgotten these fundh-mentals. MarybType of the Church Fiile~d with the Holy Spirit The attitude of listening obedience toward God the Father, the attitude of openness and receptivity to the Word which is the Son, is at once also absolute openness to the Holy Spirit. Mary allows herself to be filled, be-albid. 41bid. 520 / Review for Religious, Volume 36; 1977/4 come a dwelling-place for the Spirit, gives him room within herself. Be-cause it can be.said of her par excellence: '~I live, now not I, Christ lives in me," it can equally be said of her--and it should to some degree be said of us, the Church--"But. not I, the Spirit lives in me." One conditions the other. Both demand of Mary to be a human being totally given over to God: her whole heart, her whole soul, and all her strength. It is a matter of total identification with the Fiat once pronounced. Partial identification is in-sufficient. The source of Mary's mission is that her being is filled with the Holy Spirit by the Son. This is reflected in the story of her visit to Elizabeth. The Spirit within her makes her rise. He is the finger of God that leads her and she allows herself to be led. He is the impulse and moving-power of Maryqthe Church---on her way to bring the Son as the One who is to come, to men. The Spirit, one with the Son, communicates himself like a spark to Elizabeth, moves the child ~ within her and allows Elizabeth to recognize: the Lord in Mary. The encounter between the young and the old woman takes place in the Holy Spirit--through the Son. and on behalf of the Son. And the Spirit urges both to joyful praise of God. "There are few other examples which make it so abundantly clear how grace always over-flows and ne~ver remains alone. It goes from Jesus--in the Spirt--to Mary, from Mary to Elizabeth, from Elizabeth to John, in order to be poured out here more fully, and return to its divine origin, thus increased?''~ It becomes clear that the Church can only be fruitful and enkindle the joy of the gospel in others, her apostolate being only then efficacious when it springs from the total identification with the initial Fiat mihi and all it implies. "One whole person is more efficacious in the Church than 'twenty half-hearted ones," is a saying of Adrienne von Speyr. And further: ecclesial apostolate is only fruitful when it is service to which the Spirit sends. Should our energies be exhausted in multil~lying schemes and activities, without the Holy Spirit everything we do is empty and shallow. ' Mary--Type of the Praying Church What is it that enables Mary to walk in the obedience of faith, without understanding what is happening to her? It is prayer. "Be it done unto me according to your word," is her prayerful answer to the Word of God. It is not day-dreaming. It is rather her extremely wakeful "amen" to God's speaking. Prayer does not begin with man, but with God. But we cannot hear God if we begin at once .to speak ourselves. It needs silence. Only in silence can Mary, can the Church, and can we perceive what God is saying to us, and then try to conform to it completely. Mary's prayer is objective, simple, childlike submission, not a prayer of many words and considera-tions: hers is the direct answer that God expects. And the uniting factor in ~lbid. Mary." Type and Model oJ the Church / 521 this exchange is again the Holy Spirit. Through him, God's Word comes to life and grows to maturity in her, Thi,s again is only possible because Mary continues to cooperate prayerfully. Her entire activity is envelrped in contemplation. "Mary treasured 'this word' in her heart" (Lk 2, 19 and 51 ). She ponders and savors it. This contemplative pondering over the Word in the heart of Mary does not only begin with the word addressed to her by the shepherds. It begins with the conception of the Word in her womb. It even precedes it. And this "treasuring" includes everything not yet under-stood, everything beyon.d her comprehension and possibilities. This treasuring and pondering of the Word of God is something like the Church~s womb. of. contemplation, without which there can. be neither spiritual vocations, nor spiritual life, nor theological perception. Adrienne von Speyr once called prayer "the key to theology that always fits.'~' We are inclined to forget this today. And that is why the Church, losing sight of Mary, often becomes, as Hans Urs von Balthasar sketches her: a church of activism, of many and shallow words, a church without silence, where theological knowledge can-no longer mature in patience, a church without lasting fruit. The Spirit overshadowing Mary is the Spirit of obedience and at the same time the Spirit of prayer; silence, and therefore of wisdom and knowl-edge, the Spirit of counsel and of all the other gifts necessary for the service of missionary witness and ecclesial theology. No one can grasp the Marian° ecclesial mystery or any other mystery of faith with his own unaided intel-lect. They remain veiled. But they can be encompassed "by the Spirit of faith, by that intuition of love, that sense for the mystery''~' that is given to the soul in prayer. This Marian attitude is necessary for the theologian of today more than ever before: the renouncement of possession, the renounce-~ ment of a neatly fitting truth, which he has grasped.What he needs most is not intellectual theorizing but "a committed surrender in faith and docility." Humility and recognition of one's poverty: this is theology as service in love, not proving what it believes, :but witnessing tO it in the strength of the in-sight into the mysteries of God which prayer alone can give. MarymType of the Believing and Hoping Church Mary is not onlythe type of the unconditionally obedient Church, bringing forth fruit for the glory of God. Nazareth is also the beginning of a way through the darkness over which one has no control, a way in Advent-faith, a concrete unfolding of Mary's fiat in time, and a preparation for the way of the Son. She allows things to take their course. She goes the way of being tested in everyday life--without angel, without light. "Mary did not say 'yes' once, in a great moment; she has carried this 'yes' through patiently, in silence Glbid. 522 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 and constancy.''r Mary has to live 'in concrete terms what it means to be-lieve, not only until the birth of' her Son, but at Cana and in the strange rebuffs of her Son and at the ~foot of the cross; to cling to that God whose thoughts are not our thoughts, and whose plans are mysteries; to be content that God is always greater, that. he is and thinks and acts as the quite other than .ourselves, To live faith as conformity, not arguing With God, but al-ways keeping step with him--always and everywhere, not for a time, but for-ever. o - Mary's Advent-r~ad of faith is one of hope, that does not rely on any strength of. her 6wn but on God's grace; a hope not without the wavering that is ours when we become aware of the ever greater God and his demands. For our effort is not made null but is fully necessary; hope that knows the fearfulness of wondering, whether: one will come up to the expectation; never; however, leading to discouragement but always aware that power is made perfect in infirmity. Mary--the Church--can never see herself other-wise than as the lowly handmaid of the Lord; a Church not powerful, but powerless, a Church .that disappears behind her. service, that is not self-regarding. And Mary is the absolutely positive model of this ChOrch. Here is also the place where we point to the silent and suffering Church and her fruitfulness in endurance. The silent Church has the deepest share in the Advent mystery of hope on this pilgrimage through time. Because she perseveres in patience, she bears much fruit. She brings forth her chil-dren after the model of the woman of the twelfth chapter of Apocalypse, in whom the ChurCh has always seen Mary: Mary not~ only as Mother of the incarnate Son of God but as "mother" in the universal sense: mother of many children whom she brings forth in pain. Mother and children are exposed to the Adversary, ~the' Evil One. Because he cannot touch the Son, and because he cannot destroy Mary and the .Church with his hatred; he 1falls upon the individual Christians--the "other childi'en" whom the "woman" brings forth. He makes war against them~ This war against the confessors and saints who "ke~p God's commandments and hold on to the testimony of Jesus Christ" (Rv 12, 17), has many faces: sub-human ones, inhuman ones, those Of the serpent, those of the dragon. The Adversary, the dragon, has been 'vanquished by Christ forever. That is why his last despairing efforts are still so powerful that "his tail wipes off one-third of the stars:from the sky" (Rv 12, 4). The power of evil does:not only reach the earth, it is capable of darken-ing the sky, since one-third of .the stars are swept away. It can extinguish hope, devour faith, and obscure love. This is a terrible possibility, and into this situation Mary--the Church--has been placed, into these eschatological sufferings for the world, a blind world without hope: Is this not th~ time for rKarl Rahner. Mary: Type "and Model of the Church ~/ 523 us .who are children of this Mother ;to support, today, in this hour the ".woman" giving birth, Mary--the Church--by trying "to. ,fulfill :the com-mandments of God and hold on to the testimony .of Jesus. Christ"? God's help does not exclude but includes the help of her children! .~This~help of God which ~sustains us is. also spoken of in the twelfth chapter of the Apocalypse. °God is near to the ,"woman," ,to Mary and the Church. He comes--he, is with her, protecting her in the midst of the battle. He,carries her on, the strong wings of his love. He prepares a place for her. Fiat mihi. This place is not one chosen by herself, in palaces and safe castles, but in the desert, in poverty~ in silence. There God is present. There he feeds her "for a time and two times and half a time." God feeds his Church. in every new today, so that she can continue to walk in .the strength of this food: on.the road that is her destiny. ~ All this:~ the battle, the endurance:of tribulation, the bringing forth of fruit in patience and suffering, the testimony held on to, the desert, biat also the 19ying protection of God who is our hope--all this is also demanded ot~ us and promised to us, who are the Church of today. . ¯ Mary and the (~hurch in Advent We have spoken of Mary as the type of the obedient, believing, hoping, Spirit-filled, praying Church. Like a luminous thread through this little meditation ran the thought: Mary on the way, on the road of hope and faith, on the move to encounter Elizabeth. Nowhere do we read that Mary's road was an easy one,. without obstacles or eclipses, without fears and hesi-tations. On this same pilgrim journey, the Church continues to travel, to meet the coming Lord, that great Advent which presupposes the first com-ing of God in the flesh, uniting the Alpha and Omega, beginning and end. He is the One who ever was and who is to come and who, hidden under the veils of his presence as he w~s hidden in Mary's womb, determines every present moment, including every moment of our own lives. He is there, Emmanuel, God with us and.for us, even though we are still on the way, in faith, as Mary was during her ~earthly pilgrimage. He is Emmanuel,' even tho~ugh'we are engaged in battle with the adversary, even should this battle 3~et grbw~fidrcer. The Loi'd walks, battles and stiflers with us, because he has made our battle~ ahd sufferirigs his own in a~ unique., way. He is~already the victor, carrying and protecting us, and he will always be with,us, On this road, the Lord takes Mary, the Church and each single one of us into his service: Our mission is to~ be witness and our witne~s is our mis-sion- no one i§ excluded. Everyone C'an and may and must.-.take ~art in the work of b~ingihg God to ~en, of making him present t9 men. The Christian has an Advent task. He is called to cooperate in kindling the hid-den longing for God which is in every man, just as it took place between Mary and "Elizabeth. Through human beings, through the Church, God wants to show his presence, and bring his joy into the darkness of our 524 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 prayer, our faith, and our hope. "God wants His own in joy.''8 And he wants his Church to proclaim the great joy, the good news, on the way. But we have to remember that joy is born from the obedience of the Fiat mihi, from a surrender that day after day commits itself anew to the unpre-dictable God, to his unfathomable and demanding will. It is a joy that does not ~o much look back at something that is complete and behind us but that looks forward and makes men raise their heads to look for the One to come. He conies in every "new today--in the midst of the desert of our times. But the Church--and that is all of us---can live this joy in obedience, in faith, in hope, in suffering and in praise only when she shakes off her for-getfulness and allows the Spirit."to remind her again of all things," in order to ponder and treasure the word of the Lord again in her heart. This alone will re-awaken in us Christians the longing for the final coming of Christ, and make us cry out again in the Spirit ahd in love: "Maranatha! Come, Lord Jesus!" SAdrienne von Speyr. -o It should give woman a feeling of exaltation to know that she--particularly in the " virgin-mother Mary--is the privileged place where God can and wishes to be re-ceived in the world. Between the first Incarnation of the Word of God in Mary and its ever new arrival' in the receiving Church, there exists an inner continuity. This and only this is the decisive Christian event, and insofar as n~en are in the Church, they must participate--whether they have office or not--in this comprehensive femininity of the'-Marian Church. In Mary, the Church, the perfect Church, is already a reality, long before there is an apostolic office. The latter remains secondary and instrumental in its representation and, just because of the deficiency of those who hold office (Peter!), is so made that the grace transmitted remains unharmed by this defi-ciency. He who has an office must endeavor, as far as he can, to remove this defi-ciency, but not ~by approaching Christ ~as head of the Church, but by learning t6 express and live better the fiat that Mary addressed to God one and triune. Hans Urs von Balthasar ¯ L'Osservatore Romano, Feb. 24, 1977, p. 7. Chapter: A,Community's Call to Conversion Colette Rhoney, O.S.F. Sister Colette is involved in the ministry of prayer, spiritual direction and retreat work. She resides~at 1340 E. Delavan Ave.; Buffalo, NY 14215~ While examining the technical aspects of a chapter and ways of imple-menting its decisions, it is also necessary to examine the results of a com-mun. ity's chapter as lived by the individual members of the congregation. Father Conleth Overman, C.P., recently presented a thorough development of.chapters from the "imposition chapters through the .liberation chapters into the. planning chapters."' The lived experience of this development and the future involvement of members takes place in the on-going conversion of each individual sister. In order to implement the plans, the mission and the decisions of a chap-ter by. the.members of a community, these members must recognize that a call to conversion becomes part of the spiritual dynamics of the chapter. :This call to conversion remains through the months and years ~that follow a chapter in the daily death and rising of each member of the community. It becomes an essential element in the process of community life, making each member aware of her attitudes toward the community in general and toward members in particular. The summons to continued growth leads each one to examine her response to the Spirit who bids her grow. Basically, conversion is a change of heart and attitudesmit is taking on the 'mind and heart o~ Jesus Christ. Within the religious congregation, con-version lies in our openness to experience God's calling us forth through 1Conleth Overman, C.P., "Chapter--An Opportunity," Sisters Today, June-July 1976, pp. 651-655. 525 526 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1~977/4 ~ the power ~f the Spirit, to ~examine, as our foundresseS did, the life of Jesus and to find a modern response to his salvific ministry. The successful chap-ter is not one that ends with a written document, but one that leads to con-tinuol discernment and growth in personal conversion. The elements of this conversion would seem to be those of penance, healing, reconciliation, and confirmation. Penance Penance fundamentally involves the grace of change, and so also do most new constitutions formulated by a community's chapter. Penance 'is centered in conversion, in metanoia, an admitting one's own sinfulness before God, self, and neighbor. It is a turning to God and self and neigh-bor in a serious attempt to grow in the knowledge, love and will of God. The grace of a new-found trust in God's fidelity amid our own infidelity leads us to an openness before the Spirit. This openness graces us with the desire and courage to surrender to the voice of the Spirit as expressed in the documents of the chapter. Metanoia is continual, a constant, thorough, on-going, despite the human weakness which We all carry with us. ~The belief, in hope, that God-with-us can do marvelous deeds, impo~sibie ones, moves us on even in the midst of our woundedness. Healing Those who have experienced the"healing p0~,er'that is possible anibng chapter members who have been gifted by.grace and trutti in the S~irit, the community and each other-~can bring themselveg" to believe and to work for the healing Of the whole community. The day~ ankl w(eks follow-ing a chapter are seeded with opportunities for th~ healing of memories, of personal and comhaunal hurts sustained during the long hours of debate, dialogue, and discussion. There is a time for everything; and"the period immediately after chapter seems to be an appropriate time for the healing of the mistrusts and mistakes made in the process Of chapter, i3od's saving action in our lives heals our wounds through Jesus--=and calls us forth to minister'a like healing to one another. Redonciliation Before we can know the power of recc~nciliation we must pe~:~onally experience the forgiveness of God. /~fter positioning' ourselves wiih the prodigal son or his jealous older brother, we turn back' to our loving Fatl~er who longs for our return. Our weakness and failures do not discourage him from stretching forth to eml~race us, to welcome us b~ick and to~ cele-brate the occasion with the entire household. The forgiving Francis of Assisi words it this way for his followers: There should be no friar in the whole world who has fallen into sin, nb matter how far he has fallen, who will ever fail to find your forgiveness for Chapter." ,4 Call. (o Conversion /o 527 the asking, if he will only look into your eyes. And if he does not ask forgive-hess, you should ask him if he wants it. And should he appear before you again a thousand times, you should love him more than you love me, so that you may draw him to God.z The sacrament of forgiveness, of healing, of reconciliation takes flesh as we offer ourselves to the power of God's Spirit and one another. The "grace" of our own self-righteousness must die before we can gift another with new birth in reconciliation. What succeeds from any chapter proposals for the building up of the kingdom will be rooted in the spirit of forgiveness among the members. As this forgiveness and reconciliation takes hold, the members of the community can extend this Good News to other members of the kingdom. Confirmation Perhaps the success or failure of a community chapter can be determined by the conversion of its members. The signs within the community that the ~vord and action of the "Spirited" chapter are still, alive would seem to be the lived forms of these document-words uttered in ,the lives and ministries of the members. The decrees of a chapter wi.ll not be understood completely or effected immediately. However, the on-going affirmation of its statements _i_s a sign of confirmation by the Spirit of Truth. ,The signs of the individual sister who is graced in the decisions and odocuments of her community's chapter will be an increased faith in her vocational call, the harmony pf her own being and the courage and determination to live out the written word. Conclusion As each of us enters into chapter planning,or emerges f~rom the process involved in the search for the new direction of religious life, let us be en-couraged by Jesus' words: . . . the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the F~ther will send in my name, will teach you everything and remind you of alibi have said to you. Peace I bequeath to you, my own, peace I give you, a peace the world cannot give, this is my gift to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid (Jn 14:2.6-27). -°"Letter to a Minister" in English Omnibus Edition o] the Sources (Chicago: Fran-ciscan Herald Press), p. 110. " Contemplation Vera Gallagher, R.G.S. Sister Vera's work is described in her article. She resides at Christ the King Convent; 11544 Phinney Ave., N.; Seattle, WA 98133. I was fifteen when I.decided suddenly, totally, to join a contemplative religious order, God's call 'was clear, if abrupt, and I responded~ whole-heartedly. My parents, however, were unwilling to consent to either the Carmelites or Poor Clares, my first choices. Because I was equally reluctant to wait until I was eighteen, we compromised. They agreed to the Sisters of Charity of the Refuge, then a cloistered, contemplative order devoted to serving and rehabilitating delinquent teenage girls. ,~ Always protected, I knew nothing of delinquency. But, having read widely the books in my parents' bookcases, I knew a great deal about prayer. And into that I threw myself. Between meditation, Mass, Office and reading we devoted about three and a-half hours daily to prayer. I gobbled that up. Sundays were free, so I turned to six or seven hours of prayer then. While I was a second-year novice, our isolated convent in Vancouver, B.C., joined the Good Shepherd Order--world-wide, devoted to the same work, and with the same emphasis on prayer. For six weeks I was sent to a Good Shepherd novitiate in Minnesota, and then became professed. Shortly, I found myself teaching in our special education schools (spe-cial, not because our girls were retarded but because they had missed so much school), then sent to college, then appointed principal. So I wandered, principal of our schools, from Minnesota to Washing-ton to Montana to Nebraska to Colorado; back to Montana, and Minne-sota, and Nebraska. All the time, while I willingly served wherever God 528 Contemplation / 529 called, I lived a split-level life: level 1, being principal; level~2, being a con-templative. What hours I could beg, borrow, or steal were unceasingly devoted to prayer, my primary calling and delight. Over and. over, I asked God why he so clearly summoned me to contemplation and so obviously assigned me to administration: He did not reply. ~ Finally, when state and child-care agencies' rulings came to the point that religion, of whatever denomination, could no longer be freely taught and promoted, and when my order had meantime emerged into one no longer cloistered, no longer primarily contemplative, but apostolic, I re-quested a change of work: from education into pastoral ministry. Forthwith, I was engaged by a medium-sized church in Seattle. Here for three and ~a half years I have rediscovered and---finally--integrated my vocation as contemplative and apostle. Lilurgy In the convent, we had observed the church year but, somehow, it had usually passed me by. When I joined, as staff.,person, our Liturgy Commit-tee and discovered lay people studying the gospels, creatively designing methods of changing background, music, space to emphasize each mood of the liturgy, really living, in mind and spirit, every aspect of worship to make it compellingly clear to the congregation, I burst alive to the wonder, grandeur, simplicity, lowliness of the worship of the Lord. Personal prayer had meant too much for me to have become aware of the ever-chan~ing, challenging worship of the Church. Now that same liturgy, parish-celebrated, summons me to a. communal meal of adoration, love, and thanksgiving wherein each of us enriches the other by his/her gifts of insight and prayer, and all of us complete each day of living worship more attuned to God because we know our neighbor better, while all the adjunEts to worship which we have designed emphasize, in color and shape and texture, kaleido-scopic stories of God's relationships with his people. Home Visiting Most nights I am out visiting families throughout our widely scattered parish. Generally, these visits are devoted to pastoral counseling, spiritual direction, theological up-dating, accordir~g to the various requests and desires of those whom I visit. Simply and easily, as we chat together, people often share with me their experiences of God. Coming from men and women I know, in the simplest of everyday language, those descriptions of personal encounters with God leave me so silently breathless that I feel as .though I ought to be kneeling. There is the man who drank a fifth a day, smoked heavily, lived with little regard for God's law---but whose wife prayed for him unceasingly. One day, in total self-disgust, he turned to God and his wife in heart-broken sorrow. Such an overwhelming visitation by God was granted him that he 530 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 never as much as desired alc6hol or cigarettes again. Because he was so overpowered by gr~ice, he quit work for two years to pray, ponder, meditate, absorb the wianders he had seen. When I came to his apartment, Bob's greatest, desire was for an in-depth discussion of the~ works of St: John of the Cross. He had read, comprehended and loved every word in the saint's writings. He quoted them to me easily, expounding on their beauty. And I --- I felt like a child listening to a master of the contemplative dire. .There are Richard and Nancy, a young married couple who,have taken private vows of poverty, chastity and obedience to free themselves for con-templation. Their .lives are totally regulated by their need for prayer, Each works half-time, earning only enough for a simple life,~giving away anything in excess. They rise very early in the morning for their first hour of prayer together, meditating daily for a total of three hours. Their love for Scrip-ture is so great that they have memorized whole chapters, setting them to music. Their sights are so irrevocably, irresistably fixed on God that they see nothing unusual about so living. Naturally enough, their parish commit-ment is to the St. Vincent de Paul Society. I could' write story after story, each thrilling, . about parishioners who, through the ~scintillating brilliance of everyday living in closest harmony with the Eternal, direct the onlooker, like the whirling lights of a police car, straight to God. Pastor Very few diocesan priests have ever been canonized. I used to believe this was because of a life which, de facto, militated against sanctity. I have discovered the reverse: lives so simply and poorly dedicated to Jesus that no association or congregation has been built up to study the individual, obscure life, promote tit, pay, for its publicity, push it through to canoniza-tion. In our parish we have team ministry: the staff consists of one priest, three sisters, two deacons and one deacon's wife on a volunteer basis, and one single young man. All decisions are reached by consensus. No one per-son leads, directs or governs. In this situation, the pastor could be lost. Our pastor lives his very busy, very undistinguished life according to one principle: what"would Jesus do? His consequent devotion to poverty, love, service, compassion, understanding is such that I watch him to see Jesus incarnated again. I remember my first Christmas in the parish. Father '~X" brought me to the :tree in the rectory, surrounded by gifts. "These are my Christmas presents," he said. "Take whatever you wish." Then he handed me an en-velope full of bills--half of the money given him for Christmas; the other half he gave to another sister. That was my first introduction to the stark poverty of Father "X's" life. He has no savings account. He uses his salary primarily to give it away to whichever person asks for it first. His days off and vacations are simple, ¯ Contemplation / 531 usually spent with other priests. He shares his rectory with whoever comes along: currently two priests are resident; the young youth minister and the male head of the liturgy committee live there; whatever man is unfortunate, poor, in need of an overnight accommodation gets the one room which is left. In ,that last room I have discovered a poor black family passing through town; a .veteran with amnesia waiting for an opening in vet's hospital; a disturbed man with a knife.under his pillow awaiting transportation to Cafiada; a chef wit.hout .a job, and many others. Finally, in the housekeeper's apartment in the rectory, lives a talented drummer Father "X" picked up off the streets, homeless, hooked on drugs and alcohol, hungry. Totally re-habilitated now, he does his own thing from the rectory, and will, until he feels safe enough to move out on his own. Naturally enough, the rectory has become everybody's home. Father "X" owns nothing which he does not share. The parish drops in, commit-tees meet, people come for appointments, and all of us learn that the parish is more than a church: it is a radius of sharing love--a koinonia--a dia-konia-- a drop-in center--a haven for all in need. ~ The words of~ Script:ure are inspiring. But meditating and praying over them has not ,compelled' me to follow Jesus as forcefully as has the life of a diocesan priest devoted to making .that Scripture alive--today, now. Preaching About every six weeks I preach on weekends. What I have learned thereby would fill an encyclopedia. To compress the messages of the readings of the Sunday into a ten-minute homily means that those readings must be meditated over, pon-dered, searched, re-searched until they become a light glowing in my mind. So brightly incandescent does that one word become, after the hours of contemplative prayer devoted to it, that neither writing it down nor memo-rizing it is.necessary. Also, I need stories, everyday tales, to illuminate the gospel of. yesteryear into the imper~ative of today. So I reach back through my life, or into the stories of their lives which parishioners have shared with me, or into the happenings of this particular calendar month of 1977. And in so doing, I discover how truly each occurrence of everyday an-nounces, again, the coming of God's kingdom, the incarnation of his Son. I discover, too, that in nothing have I ever been alone: those experiences I tfi~ought to have been most personal, most private, most singular become, when shared in the light of the gospel, the most universal experiences of my congregation, the ones they tell me they know and have lived. I ha.ve learned that nothing should be hidden because God is alive in all--writing straight with crooked lines--so that the whole world with its sins, its sorrows and its shortcomings--and its soarings--becomes one sung paean of praise to the Almighty. Translating that song into simplicity is the task of the preacher. ' 53:2 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 Fasting Often throughout my life I have heard God's call to fast, and almost as often shuddered and said "no," hurrying on my way. One Sunday in the parish, three different persons told me that they were leaving the Church because of their problems with the institutional Church. I was stunned. In our parish we have, I thought, everything: a priestly priest, excellent liturgies, first-rate music, good preaching, a devoted community. What else could we offer? And three parishioners were still leaving the Church! I prayed for enlightenment as to ways to help~for I knew both the men and the young woman very well. Clearly I heard the words: "This kind of devil goes not out but by prayer and fasting." Those words left me with no alternative: pray, I would; fast, I must. For four months I fasted. Meantime, one man and the young woman not only came back to the parish, but became deeply involved in parish activities--much more so than usual, The third young man had dropped out of my sight. I continued to fast and to pray, a bit hopelessly. Th6n, one night, as I stood in the convent of a distant parish, Rob walked to the door: We looked at each other, and embraced. He had come, he told me, for a meeting of youth ministry in the parish: he intended to get involved; and he said that he had joined the choir. "I searched for something better than the Church," he said, "but I couldn't find it." That convinced me of the value of fasting in the service of the Church. Now I frequently fast: a week here, a week there; now a month; then two. Fasting brings me closer to God in prayer, but without the real-life motiva-tion of the parish, I would not persevere in it. Ecumenism Eight Protestant and two Catholic churches, one of which is ours, cooperate in our neighborhood. The ministers of the churches meet twice monthly, the laity meet once a month. As soon as I was engaged for work, Father "X" involved me in CHOICE ("Churches Involved in Common Effort"). The first really important happening was our ministers' decision to keep a prayer diary, meet weekly, and share. For me, the decision was no less than terrifying; prayer had always been very personal, very private to me. However, my curiosity as to how Protestant mirdsters prayed was so great that I consented to go along. We continued for one year. I discovered many things: foremost, perhaps, my realization that not only were Protestant ministers comprehending of contemplation, they also lived rich and variegated prayer lives of their own. I discovered a pyramid of errors in my past concepts of Protestant ministers: Contemplation / 533 Celibacy is not absolutely essential to the developm'ent of a rich prayer life. ¯ The gospels apply to all persons of whatever denomination; within them, God lives for all. God reveals himself to whoever wholeheartedly searches. Protestants, by their eagerness and uprightness, can challenge Catholics. .Catholicism does not have an edge on the ecclesiastical market: I learned to share my prayer, my closeness to God, my silences in his presence, my ecstasies in the love of his sheltering arms, and to feel myself totally accepted and understood in what I would formerly have considered an.inappropriate company: a circle of Protestant ministers! That experience has been one of the most important, most radical in my life. It lifted me suddenly and freed me from the parochialism in which I had been reared. In many ways the CHOICE churches have cooperated to make God better known, more real, better served in our area and neighborhood. All of. this I have found enriching to our congregations, as well as truth-reveal-ing to me. God is found in truth, not in error. We must reach out, beyond ourselves, to discover where those unknown errors lie. Social Justice When I was less wise, I attended some social justice workshops at a large university and came back, I thought, permeated with an urgency 'for social justice in the world. I preached a couple of sermons on the subject and was disappointed to discover that my congregation was not totally with me. Figuring that I must be, in some way, stumbling about in wrong turns, I decided to let the matter drop for the time being. Then I discovered a group of parishioners who wanted to form a social justice committee, another grouWwhodesired to organize for Bread for the World, a third who wanted to create a St. Vincent de Paul Society to care for the poor, the hungry, the frightened, the homeless, especially in the area contiguous to our parish. I assisted each group in its formation, and met with them. There I discovered hard-headed; practical Christians who cared about the hungry homeless men and women next door, in preference to those a continent away to whom they were not sure they could get bed and ~board. Meantime, I discovered that our parishioners were ready to pour money into the St. Vincent de Paul Society when they knew it was immediately transferred into relief for the very poor; they were delighted to contribute food to a neighboring parish in the Central Area for its Food Bank; they were eager to organize to provide legislatively for the food needs and ap-propriate distribution centers with adequate safeguards for the hungry of the world,, They had been turned off by sermons~which revealed to them a naivete and lack of pragmatism inherited by me from Academe. "534 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 , Because money, efforts, work flowed freely to the really poor, I found myself involved with the impoverished. The ideals of social justice and the thundering of. Isaiah had sounded out like trumpet calls, but dealing with the querul.ousness, and the unrealistic, improvident needs of the poor, first-hand, became a different and much, more challenging matter--one which I would gladly., have ducked. But Jesus lives hidden in the difficulties, de-mandings, despotisms of the poor; and, with the aid of our laity who give of their time without counting, I have found him there. I must admit it: it was easier, more pleasant, more justifying to h~ave discovered God in. social justice workshops on broad grassy campuses among .nice people ~dressed in clean clothes than among the very poor, improperly dressed, poorly housed, querulous, and sometimes "ungrateful" impoverished. Contemplation Finally, this article closes where it began: with the quest for contempla-tion. Contemplation is not, as once I thought it was, a way of prayer, Contem-plation is a way of fife. Truly, in embracing .a religious life devoted to cloister and to .prayer, I chose a life-style immediately preparatory of contemplation. I had not, how-ever, counted on the life-style changing radically from one of cloister ~0 one of intense apostolic activity in interaction with the ,world. When that hap-pened, I scarcely knew which way to turn. Now, I realize, it didn't even matter, God lives, in the world. God created that world, and made of it his' own cloister. The more we know and interact with God's world, provided we. keep aware of what, in fact, we are about, the more imbued with God we be-come. On silver trumpets, my parish has called forth the name of God from every cornet wherein I have sought him and his people, and from other corners into which, unseeingly, and unknowingly, Ihave wandered. J I have found God vibrantly alive in people's homes; on the deserted city streets which I may be walking at midnight; in ch6i'ch; in poverty; in fasting as well as in restaurants; in priest and in people; in the hitchhikers I have picked up; in the cold, wet weather and the .Seattle sun; in the puddles I have plodded through and on the dry, comfortable kneelers in church; in the pants I wear,to keep warm and in the skirts I adopt to look good; in the faces of parishioners and in the stranger's' smile I meet at an intersection when-we bump into each other and apologize; in Protestant ministers and in Catholic laity. ' God encompasses me. He attends my lying down°and my getting up. His shadow cools me in the day and ~warms me at night. He guards my "waking hours and my broken dreams. He loves me alone in the midst of crowds. God is my be-all and end-all; he is my life. And that, I think, is contemplation. I have reached it, at last. Prayer and Freedom of the Spirit Maria Edwards, R.S.M. Sister Maria is Secondary Rdigious Educ'ation CoOrdinator ,for the diocese of Nash-ville. Her last article in these pages appeared in the July, 1976, issue. ,Her office is located in the Catholic Center;. 24~00 21st Ave. S.; N~shville, TN 37212. One day Jesus stood up in the synagogue and read the~following passage from Isaiah: "TheSpirit of the Lord has been given to me;°for he'~has anointed me. He has sent me to bring the good news to the poor, to proclai~m freedom to captives, and new sight to the blind, to set all captives free, and to proclaim the Lord's year of favor" (Lk 4:17-19). As ~eligious are we able to affirm the statement that the Spirit of the Lord has .been given to and accepted by us; are we certain that he has anointed us and called us his own? The more certain we are of his love and his presen~e~ the clearer do we hear his invitation to. proclaim .the good news, to be his special ministerg,'to be his disciples. As we allow the.Spirit room to move in our lives, we begin to feels, the urgency to help others to be more aware and more open to the working of the Spirit. within them. People are yearning to hear that this is the year of the Lord's favor for them, that now is the day of salvation. Prayer is our proclamation that Jesus is risen and is living, among us--that he not. only exists but that he is present and alive in all who believe in him. Prayer is our expression of hope in times that to many ~people seem hopeless. It is our conviction ,of faith, lived in'a world that seeks proof for everything. It is our experience of love reaching out and touching persons who are the abandoned, the forgotten;° the bitter, the disappointed, the poor, the disgruntled, the spiritually blind. Prayer is freedom! It is life lived in the fullest manner, for through, prayer we are healed and set free again and again. We are con-stantly being formed into new creations, into the very image of God, How many of us have been set free by the love of the Lord and then 535 536 / Review [or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 have allowed ourselves to be bound up again? How many of us are like Lazarus waiting for Jesus to call us forth again from the tomb of our own selfishness, our own complacence, our own indifference to a world that needs our help in order to be set free? How many of us are still bound up by our past lives, our past experiences, experiences which may have hurt us so deeply that we have vowed never to open ourselves to love again for' fear of being crushed again in the process? How many of us have wrapped our-selves up in our own burial cloths and have settled down for a long, slow, comfortable death? To live as Christians in complete freedom demands too much effort, too much dying to selfishness. "If today you hear my voice, harden not your hearts." In God's eyes it is never too late to begin again. He wants us free to love and be loved. Will we give the Spirit full reign in our hearts and lives? Are we willing to risk being a part of what we pray for: peace, love, joy, hope, freedom? Are we ready to take responsibility for our prayer, no matter what the cost? Can we honestly place our lives freely and unreservedly in God's hands? If we refuse to take the risk with Jesus, our prayer will become a selfish enslavement rather than a real liberation in the Spirit. "For freedom Christ has set us free; remain free therefore, and do not submit again to the slavery of sin . . . for you were called to freedom, brothers, but do not use your freedom to do. wrong, but use it to love and serve each other as the Holy Spirit directs . If you are living by the Spirit's power, then you will follow the Spirit's leadings in every part of your liv.es" (Ga 5: l ; 13; 25). What Is Freedom? Freedom is being open to new awarenesses of who we are, who God is, and what life is and holds. Persons who are truly free are persons who are able to live in faith. They are in touch with, and willing to share their weak-nesses as well as their strengths; they are able to grow with the pain as well as with the good times. Since they are people of faith, people who believe in the now, they are also people of hope, people who believe in the tomor-row. They admit that they do not have all the answers, that they do not possess all the truth, and this very admission sets them free to grow in the spiritual life. ,. Definitions or descriptions of freedom are as varied as the persons en-deavoring to explain them. But to Jesus "freedom" meant everything. It meant his very life. "I have come that they might have life and have it to the full" (Jn 10:10). He came to free the captives. He never forced freedom on anyone; he generously offered it to everyone. With his life, death, and resurrection he freed us all from sin and guilt, anxiety and fear. Are we daily allowing him to heal and free us in prayer--from loneliness, a sense of rejection, lack of self-respect, narrow-mindedness? How difficult it often is for us to choose life over death! "I have set before you life and death, Prayer and Freedom of the Spirit / 537 the blessing and the curse. Choose life, then, that you and your descendents may live by loving the Lord. " (Dt 30: 19). Jesus daily reminds us that he is the way, the truth and the life as he gently calls us to follow him. God is infinitely patient as he waits for his people.to make choices. He is in-finitely patient as he waits for his chosen people to choose him. The type of freedom that the Lord offers us is so special that no indi-vidual or group can take it from us. It is essentially an inner 'attitude, a whole orientation toward life that is deeply implanted within those who believe. The well-known Austrian psychiatrist, Viktor Frahkl has written about this type of freedom from his own experience in his book Man~s Search for Mbaning.1 During the horrible years spent in a concentration camp in World War II, he often meditated on the meaning of freedom in his ~own life. Everything was taken from the prisoners---family, possessions, status, and identity itself (they were known as numbers). But after months and years in such an environment he was able to say that everything can be robbed of a man but one thing, the greatest of human freedoms: to choose one's own attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own life, one's own way. In the midst of his suffering, God and prayer became living realities to Frankl. It was the "freedom to be" that prayer gave to Frankl. He was a prisoner on the outside, but a free man on the inside. No person, no torture, no enticement could motivate him to give up his God-given freedom. Many people have the tendency to think that the two words, "motivation" and "causation," have the same meaning, but that is not true. No one can cause us .to be or do what we do not wish; people can only motivate. There are some religious who state that their bitterness or lack of interest is caused by hurts that they have received in the past. If they are bitter it is because they have chosen bitterness; they have chosen not to forgive and forget; they have chosen not to be healed and set free. This may seem a hard saying but after reading Frankl~s life it seems more evident than ever. No one is to blame for our lack of freedom but us ourselves. We can never anticipate what we might do in any given circumstance of the future, but we can make prayer such a part of our very .being that we can always be assured of being able to pray, and hopefully we will always have the courage to pray. It is this quality of courage, this growing awareness of our constant need to, pray,, that enables us to be listeners to and followers of the Spirit, to step into the uncertainty of the darkness knowing that God's presence is ever with us. The more we pray the more certain of his presence we become. Doubts will never cease to drift into our lives, but doubts give rise to the opportunities we need to choose the Lord: It might be well to remember that the Lord wants to be chosen, that he does not wish to be taken for granted in our lives. 1New York: Washington Square Press, 1959. 5311 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 Freedomand Commitment W~hen talking about freedom in a Christian ~context, by necessity the aspect of commitment must be touched upon. Some of the major crises in our .lives and in our times occur because of lack of meaning, lack of purpose, lack of hope, and especially lack of love on the part of individuals and of groups. If' we are living as committed Christian religious we should be filled with purpose, with meaning, with love. Commitment implies total giving of self on a. daily basis; it implies new discoveries of faith and love. Each of us has, forfeited certain freedoms in preference for a particular freedom-- Jesus Christ himself. We have chosen a definite life-style, we have chosen a vowed life. .In :searching the gospels there is one thing we can be certain of: Jesus wants committed followers. He never minced any words on the subject: "He who is noLwith me is against me, and he who does not ~gather with"me scatters" (Mt 12:30). Either we receive these words with joy or we live our lives as religious in misery. All the~.rationalization in the world cannot blot out the bold pass, age: "How I wish you were one or the.other--hot or cold! But because you are lukewarm, neither hot nor cold, I will spew you out of my mouth!" (Rev 3: 15-16). He asks us to make a choice daily, either be hot or cold~ but for God's sake make a choice. Are we setting any captives free; are we allowing others who love us to set us free; are we feeding ~any poor people; do ~we have something and Someone to give to the spiritually blind; are we signs, of faith and hope to the people.with whom we live and the people we endeavor to serve? We must not wait until, we are "perfect" before we begin to live out the gospel message. We must try to live the gospel message even in our profound weak-ness and°then we will be on the road to perfection!: How many minutes a day do we spend reading and praying over the Word of God; how ~any minutes a day do we spend living it out? .How many minutes a day do we spend growing closer to the One with whom we will live for all eternity? God needs our commitment; God so needs :our lives. The whole history., of God's chosen ones is the story of a people claim-ing to have responded fully to God's words to follow him in freedom, while in, actuality most were too bound up in their own sicknegs and powerless-ness to let the Lord, call them forth and free them. But Jesus° makes the process "too" simple: "Give up all that you have and come follow me!" What a risk that kind of freedom involves. It seems so frightening and yet all we have to do is to, let ourselves be filled .with God, to empty ourselves in prayer, so that .he can fill us with himself. Prayer can lead us to total commitment; prayer can free us sothat we can continually make total commitment~ As religious we need one another to support us in our choices, in our prayer and in our commitment. Although our lives as religious do not depend solely on whether or not those around us live in a Christian way, Pr~ayer and Freedom~o]~ the Spir!ti~ / 539:. we have to admit that living with those persons who are kind, loving, and service-oriented naturally encourages us to be and do likewise. The Lord told us to form community, to carry one another's burdens freely. We must nev.er give up trying to make Jesus the center of our community life. We may be "a voice crying in the desert" but if we cease to cry we may soon cease to care. The cry says that we need one another; the cry says that we are almost dying on the inside and we want to live again'; the cry says that we have not yet arrived. "If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free" (Jn 8:31-32). To be free, then, is really to be able to follow our quest for the truth, to be able to fulfill our potential for spiritual growth. Conclusion Prayer is our witness to an unbelieving world that the Lord is present and living within us. Prayer opens us up to choose freely God and life over nothingness and death. We must .decide in what ways' we are bound, in what ways we.need to be set free. We must believe'that God loved us so much that he sent his Son to take on our flesh and our weakness in order that we might be led to freedom in the Spirit. The Lord wants his religious to be free. In his eyes each a~ad every living person is special and beloved. As religious we should know this even though others do inot .know of their specialness. In prayer each day let us hand over to the Lord all '.of our fears, our dreams, our burdens, our insecurities, our hopelessness, and even our faithlessness, If we want to be free we can The,.Lord not .only accepts us and loves us unconditionally, but he gives us the~freedom to choose to be changed. This change begins the moment we say~a total yes to.him and allow him to set us free in the Spirit. Off COmmitment to the Poor Gerald R. Grosh, S.J. Father Grosh, in addition to teaching theology at Xavier University (Cincinnati), also gives retreats and resides at the Jesuit Renewal Center; P.O. Box 289; Milford, OH 45150. We live in a divided society. We live in a society in which the clamor of the oppressed rings forth to all people to struggle, for love and justice and peace in our world. The poor, especially those in the Third World, cry out that they cannot live as human beings, that they have no sense of their own value as persons, because the structures of society keep them from feeling their own dignity. Many men do not earn enough to provide the basic necessities for wife and family. Many do not receive an honest day's pay. Often the system is such that a man cannot even get a job; or, if he does get one, it is only through political favoritism and not on his own merit as a man and a worker. Today the poor are crying out that they are op-pressed by the system--political, social, economic, and cultural--and thus are robbed of their dignity as human persons. As religious we have a choice, just as all people have a choice in the face of this reality. We can shut our ears and refuse to hear, we can close our eyes and refuse to see the misery and suffering of the poor. Or we can let this reality sink in. "The poor we have always with us"; but today men and women are shouting that this poverty is unnecessary, that it is the result of the evil and greed of men---even of so-called "committed Christians." The poor and the hungry throughout the world are calling for brother-hood, freedom, justice, love and sharing. These are the values of the kingdom which Christ preached. Meditation on the gospels reveals Jesu.s as a man of love, as a man who entered into our situati0n--the human situation, the concrete situation of the people of his time. He, too, lived in a divided society; and in this divided society he drew close to those who were weak and oppressed. He challenged those who were: the organizers 540 On Commitment to the Poor / 541 within this society; he preached the kingdom. He preached the reconcilia-tion of man; he effected justice. The values of his kingdom were brother-hood, freedom, justice, 10ve and sharing; and in order to realize these goals he found himself in conflict---especially in conflict with money, honor and power. If a religious is one who espouses the values of Christ's kingdom he must espouse brotherhood, freedom, justice, love and sharing. Like Christ, he too must draw near to the poor, the weak, the oppressed. And it is impor-tant for him to reflect on why he commits himself to the poor. There are many possible reasons: ideological, political, reasons arising from sadness because of the sufferings of the poor or from guilt because of the injustice they suffer. As religious, our primary motivation is simply Christ and the desire to announce Christ and his kingdom. We believe in the values which Christ preached. Jesus committed himself to the poor and the oppressed. The ~call to religious today, as well as to all Christians, is to follow Christ, doing in our day what he did in his, that is, doing justice and effecting reconciliation. Frankly, some of us do not want to do this because we are too attached to the comfortable life-style in which we now live. Others are afraid to abandon the security that the system provides them. For these people, a conversion is necessary--a conversion which depends on the Lord's grace. But there are also many religious who do see the need for commitment to the poor, though they are confused as to how they might respond. Many are using their talents in important work, and they are so overwhelmed and overworked that they find little time to reflect on or to act on a commitment to the poor. The question before them is how the way in which they lead their lives can reflect a genuine concern for the poor. The present article will attempt to offer these religious some concrete suggestions as to how they might commit themselves to the poor. Becoming ln]ormed ~ If we are really to help the poor, we must know their needs. We must hear the national and international cries of the poor and oppressed. We must know how the);" want to be helped, rather than how we think they want to be helped. First,hand experience, wit_h the poor will clarify our perspective a great deal. But many of ~us are very busy people and our present commitments m~y not allow much time for this. Most cannot do first-hand investigating. That means we have to choose to whom we are going to listen. As we filter the information we receive, we must always keep in mind what truly beriefits the poor, what helps them grow and respect themselves as persons. Personal Contact We are incarnate people; our physical presence has Significance. The poor suffer from a lack of dignity. They cannot choose where they live; 54~2 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/4 perhaps we can. When some of us religious choose to live in their neighbor-hood, they can gain anew respect for themselves. Yet not all can or should live among the poor. Living among the poor depends on a personal call.and on the different, psychological drives of each person. Furthermore, the ghetto life is already overcrowded; we don't need thousands of people suddenly pouring themselves into homes in the ghetto, though it is obvious that each one of us needs some material contact and sharing in the lives of the poor if we are really to enter into their world and commit ourselves to them and to their struggles. Contemplating th~ Lives o[ the Poor One's stance before the poor should be contemplative--that is, one has to listen, and to listen long. We come from our own cultural and economic backgrounds through which we have accepted many blind biases. We.have to listen long to the poor to discover their values and ways of looking at things, thus destroying our own ideological blocks and preconceived notions. As we listen, we shall discover some values that are quite attractive: simplicity, joy, hospitality, and sharing. We shall also discover their in-security. Their insecurity is not an experience that we can ever enter into fully. We cannot live their insecurity, their closed horizons, their closed present; we can never really lose our status. But we can enter into the way that they try to deal with their insecurity. We can enter into the security that they .can have in material work and in brotherhood in the Lord. We can recognize in their values the presence and action of the Lord in their lives and we can respond, to this in faith. As we contemplate their suffering and pain, we may also discover some attitudes which are very different from our own, attitudes with ~egard to sex, for instance, or violence, or deceit, or the struggle between classes. We need to listen long to understand what their attitudes are really saying. For example, a poor person may try to manipulate you or deceive you in the hope of getting some material gain or economic help. We Can judge this out of our own moral system, applying to it the valu~ that we put on honesty an'd truth, on honest communication. Such a judgment may be perfectly sound according to our own biases and cultural values. But it fails to take into account the real, lived situation in which the poor person exists, a situation that we have never really experienced. If we enter into the world of the poor man, we may discover that what~he is really saying is that h,~is situation is so bad, that the system is so destructive of who he is, that he desperately needs this economic help and will go to any length to get it. Contemplation does not mean a blind acceptance of what the poor say or what they ask for; but it does mean that we really try to listen to them, tO see where they are coming from, and to understand what their experience is. We try to judge their actions and,our response from the gospel: what.helps the poor man to be more a person? On Commitment to the Poor / 543 Questioning Our Own Lives From the Experience of the Poor It is not just simply a presence among the poor or a contemplation of their lives and their values to which we are called. We are called also to look at ourselves and the lives we lead in comparison with the lives and experi-ences of the poor. We need to enter into the suffering that they experience because of the system--the political, social and economic system of our times. Thus it is fruitful to experience the frustrations that the poor endure as a matter of course. Try to experience dealing with the power structures without, using "cc~nnections," and get the same run-around that the poor receive. Travel by bus not in order to save money, but simply because this is the experience that the poor have; Such experiences might enable a per-son to question his life more fully in the light of the experience of the poor. We must be rea

Issue 22.3 of the Review for Religious, 1963. ; JOHN XXIII Allocution to Spieitual Directors Our meeting todayI immediately precedes the week of retreat by which We intend to prepare Ourselves for the opening of the Ecumenical Council. You can imagine, then, what is going on in Our soul at this moment as We welcome you who have been chosen for one of the loftiest and most delicate services that exist in the Church. As perhaps you already know, We Ourselves exercised this same ministry at the Seminary of Bergamo shortly after World War I. This precious priestly experience permits Us to understand better the feelings of your own hearts, and at the same time it makes Our conversa-tion with you more intimate and more immediate. Before every thing else, beloved sons, We extend to you Our gratitude for the hidden but invaluable work which you are carrying on in an area that is rich in hopes for the apostolate. Dioceses depend on you; it can even be said that the future fate of the Church is to a large extent in your hands. It is true, of course, that the forma-tion of seminarians must be achieved by the harmonious collaboration of all superiors under the judicious and in-terested direction of the rector; nevertheless, the most important part of this formation pertains to you because your work is executed in the depths of conscience where deep convictions take root and where is effected the real transformation of the young men who are called, to the priesthood. It is the impulse of the Spirit of the Lord that initiates this transformation and brings it to completion; ordinarily, however, a young man will have difficulty in knowing how to follow the impulses of the Spirit without the expert control of the spiritual director. 1 This is an English translation of the allocution Questo incontro given by John XXIII on September 9, 1963, to a meeting of spiritual directors of the seminaries of Italy. The original text is given in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 54 (1962), pp. 673-8. $il~irltual Directors VOLUME 22, 196~ John XXII1 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 258 We can imagine your daily sacrifices, your trepidations, and your silent sufferings. And God knows with how many prayers and efforts and perhaps anguish you daily pay for the graces of light and perseverance which you implore for your spiritual children. In manifesting to you Our gratitude, We feel that We possess the senti-ments of Christ Himself who, by entrusting to you His most precious treasures, has called you to labor with Him in this sublime work of His grace. /1 Dil~cult and Delicate Task We also wish to express to you Our satisfaction with your meeting and the good results to be expected from it. The education of the young--it is never out of place to repeat this--is a very arduous mission which is justly referred to as the art of arts. This is even more true when it is a question of young persons who in the greatness of their hearts are.giving themselves to the priesthood. The educator of seminarians is well aware that his personal preparation for this lofty ministry should continue throughout the length of his service. He must study the psychology of the students in the seminary; he must live with his eyes open to the world which surrounds him; he must learn from life. But he must also learn from books, from study, from the experiences of his colleagues, and from the progress of pedagogical science, especially from the texts and authors recommended by the Congregation of Seminaries. We cannot disguise the fact that in the matter of edu-cation there have been and are errors that are cloaked by the facile excuse that for the discernment and formation of vocations it is sufficient to have good sense, a sharp eye, and above all experience. We say this with a feeling of sadness. A more enlightened spiritual direction would have spared the Church the priests who do not live up to the greatness of their office, while at the same time it would have procured for her a decidedly higher number of holy ecclesiastics. Moreover, all of you are aware that every age en-counters and meets characteristic difficulties in the edu-cation of youth. In your own case you cannot forget that seminarians today belong to a generation that has ex- + perienced the tragedy of two tremendous world wars and that they live in a world which is evolving with amazing ÷ rapidity. Because of this you may at times be bewil.dered by various manifestations of a personality still unformed, by aspirations and exigencies which seem to be far from the mentality that was present only twenty years ago. This might lead one to conclude that the traditional formation has had its day and that new ways should be tried. On this point We would like to give candid ex-pression to Our thought. While in the matter o[ seminary [ormation it is not good to maintain outmoded ways o[ doing things, still it is necessary to be thoroughly convinced that fundamental principles retain all their~value; without thei~'o~he entire edifice would collapse and [all into ruin. Hence it is nec-essary to care[ully avoid the danger that marginal re-forms, however important and perhaps opportune they may be, should distract attention from what is the central problem o[ all seminary education. Your efforts must be principally directed towards creating in your charges an evangelically integral conception of the priesthood as well as a keen and vibrant consciousness o[ the obligation to tend towards holiness. Unchanged Value o] Fundamental Principles Beloved sons, the problem of personal sanctification was the point of honor and of joy o[ your and Our youth-ful years. Those called to the priesthood in this second half of the twentieth century can have nothing else more at heart both before the priesthood and during the years of its flowering and maturation. They must be persuaded of the emptiness of every apostolic effort that does not proceed from a soul in the state of grace and tending to-wards holiness. You must also take care to guide seminarians to a knowledge and a comprehension of the world in which they are called to live and to work; teach them to sancti[y everything good, sane, and beautiful that progress offers. This does not mean any compromise with a worldly spirit and much less does it imply a lessening o[ the importance of mortification and renunciation. A misunderstood mod-ernization that is preoccupied only with softening semi-nary life or with flattering nature too much would create a personality the direct opposite of Christ, Priest and Vic-tim. On the contrary, a really adequate adaptation to the needs of the times must result in a deeper assimilation to the personality of Christ and Him crucified. It is neces-sary to endow seminarians with a love of the self-denial of the cross in order that they may be able to love the con-dition o[ poverty in which the clergy must o[ten live and be able to meet with courage the renunciations and ex-hausting labors of the apostolate. Firm Discipline and JoyIul Dedication to Sacrifice At times one hears the expressions "autoformation" and "autodomination." It is certainly true that a person is not well formed if he does not know how to control himself; educators are justly concerned to give seminari-ans a practical and progressive exercise of freedom which 4. 4. Spiritual Directors VOLUME 22, 1963 259 4. 4. 4. John XXlll REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 260 will strengthen them to control themselves in determined circumstances and which prepares them better for the life of the ministry. But this cannot be disjoined from firm discipline. A young man will never learn to be mas-ter of himself if he has not learned to observe with love a strict rule that exercises him in mortification and in will power. Otherwise, later in the full exercise of the ministry he will not be prompt in a full and joyful obedience to his bishop; he might even undergo the temptation to as-sume an independence which, while it may not take the form of open rebellion, may nevertheless be manifested in personal action not in harmony with the plan of pas-toral activity suggested and proposed by his superiors. Finally, there can never be too much insistence on the importance of example. And it is you, beloved sons, who give this; it is older priests who give it; and We wish that We could say that all give it. Example is the most elo-quent and persuasive language for the young. Example will draw down an abundance of fruitful graces from the Lord; and from it seminarians will learn in an almost spontaneous way things that frequently are difficult to explain in words. Zeal /or Carrying Out the Decisions o/ the Council Because of the spiritual director's frequent and confi-dential contacts with seminarians, he is one of those per-sons who are incised into the memory; he can, therefore, if he is truly edifying, be one of the most effective sup-ports of future perseverance. Many times the amazing exuberance of Christian life in a diocese finds its true explanation in the silent work of a holy spiritual director who by his example and his teaching has been able to form a generation of holy priests. As We come to the end of Our reflections on this seri-ous and lofty matter of the formation of seminarians to whose good will the reinvigoration of ecclesiastical fervor in the entire Catholic world has been entrusted for execu-tion with the help of heavenly grace and by the applica-tion of conciliar legislation, We willingly give Our hom-age in these solemn circumstances to the sacred memory of those priests, now resting in the eternal light and peace of the Lord, to whose ministry as confessors and spiritual guides you and We entrusted the intimacy of our con-science at the various stages of our life. They are fully worthy of our commemoration. These elect souls who, having entered into eternity, now rejoice in their lofty goal or who~and they too are all holy and blessed--still wait entrance into that goal are according to the teaching of the Church participants in the events of the Church militant; they give her help especially at more important times such as this of the Ecumenical Council. It was the grace of the Lord which gave them on earth the meritorious work of the sanctifi-cation of priests in the past; may that grace now bring forth an abundance of fervor for the new birth which the Council intends to consecrate to the triuml~h of the kingdom of Christ the Lord: "ln holiness and justice be-fore him during all our days" (Lk 1:75). A Shining Example: Vincent Pallotti Beloved sons, the office of spiritual director bristles with difficulties and responsibilities, for it is concerned with the formation of souls into the image of Christ the Priest. It is a divine, not a human work. But this, far from discouraging you, constitutes the foundation of your con-fidence. You have a greater reason to abandon yourselves to the merciful omnipotence of the Divine Artisan who deigns to make use of you. Among the pleasing things of the new fervor which the Ecumenical Council is producing, it gives Us a lively sense of gratification to be able to look forward to the honors of the altar which are being prepared for some of the venerable Servants of God and of the Blessed who are a part of the universal constellation of the holiness of the Church spread throughout the world. We espe-cially look forward to the canonization of Blessed Vincent Pallotti. He was an edifying priest who knew how to unite the spiritual direction of the young clerics of the Pontifical Roman Seminary and of the students of the College of Propaganda with the founding of the Pious Society of Catholic Apostolate. This latter was the first movement in Rbme of Catholic Action in the proper sense of the word. And today we admire the flourishing condition of Catholic Action and its application to the important task of penetrating modern society with the Gospel. The entire activity of this outstanding priest was de-voted to the sanctification of the clergy and, as he himself put down in writing, to the defence of the faith and the spread of charity among Catholics; the one and the other he hoped to propagate in the entire world so that shortly there would be but one fold and one shepherd. He was the apostle of that manifold liturgical celebra-tion which still remains as an outstanding memorial to his far-sighted apostolic piety; this is the celebration of the Epiphany octave which is held each year in the Church of Sant'Andrea della Valle and which serves as a vigorous call for the development of missionary aware-ness in the Christian world and for prayer for the unity of the Church among all the peoples of the world. 4- 4- Spiritual Directors VOLUME 22~ 1963 26] Beloved, here for you to see are the words and example by which under the tutelage and impulsion of grace you can carry out the great work of fashioning the hearts of future priests according to the Heart of Christ. We have a serene assurance that Christ our Highpriest will make Our words to you fruitful. As a pledge of heavenly favors, We give to you and to all the. seminari-ans entrusted to your care Our apostolic blessing. ÷ ÷ ÷ John XXIII REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 262 L. LEGRAND, M.E.P. The Spiritual Value Of Virginity According to St. Paul In his pleax for virginity in Chapter Seven of the First Epistle to the Corinthians, St. Paul insists on the greater spiritual freedom it gives: I would have you free from care. Now the unmarried man cares for the things of the Lord; his aim is to please the Lord. But the married man cares for the worldly things; his aim is to please his wife and he is divided. And the unmarried woman or the virgin cares for the things of the Lord; her aim is to be holy both in body and in spiri.t. But the married woman cares for the worldly things; her a~m ~s to please her husband (1 Cor 7:32-34). Detachment from the world, complete self-surrender to the Lord, sanctity of life: those are the reasons for which Paul prefers virginity to married life. We have studied elsewhere the "holiness" of virginity.2 It remains now to consider the other two causes which, in the eyes of Paul, make for the superiority of continence. Freedom from the World The language of the Apostle seems plain enough: celi-bacy is good becauge it is care free. The celibate is ame-rimnos, literally "careless." It goes without saying that this "carelessness" is not that of the inveterate bachelor for whom celibacy means only selfishness, attachment to comfort, privacy, and his idiosyncracies, aloofness, and dryness of heart. Paul makes it clear that what he extols is dedicated celibacy. Worldly worries are set aside so as 1 This article is reprinted with permission from Indian Ecclesiasti-cal Studies, v. 1 (1962), pp. 175-95. ~ See L. Legrand, "The Sacrificial Value of Virginity," Scripture, v. 14 (1962), pp. 67-75. 4- 4- 4- L. Legrand, M.E.P., is a faculty member of St. Peter's Seminary; Bangalore 12, In-dia. VOLUME 22, 196~ 263 4. 4. 4" L. Legrand, M.E.P . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS to allow a singleness of purpose in the spiritual life which would be impossible in marriage. But is that explanation as satisfactory as it seems? Robertson and Plummer see a striking parallel to Paul's exhortation to virginity in saying of Epictetus: Is it not fit that the philosopher should without any dis-traction be employed only on the ministration of God, not tied down to the common duties of mankind, nor entangled in the ordinary relations of life;~ This parallel raises a problem. I1 the parallelism of thought is real, is it not compromising for Paul? Does not make of the Apostle, at least in this instance, a Stoic philosopher rather than a disciple of Jesus; and of celi-bacy an inheritance of Hellenism rather than a genuine element of Christianity? Towards the end of the Old Testament and the begin-ning of the Christian era, the main trends of Hellenistic thought, deeply marked by Platonic influence, saw an opposition between matter and spirit, between the pres-ent temporal condition and .the ideal world to which be-longed God and the eternal reality of things. The body was considered to be a jail which man had to leave to soar through knowledge and contemplation into the se-rene sphere of immutable eternity. An ideal of continent life would have been in the logic of that system. Actually it did not develop in Hellenism as it did, on almost simi-lar premises, in the Hindu systems of the Ashrams and in Buddhist monasticism.4 In fact, the full consequences of the Greek dualism were drawn only by such Christi;tn heretics as the Gnostics, Encratites, Donatists, Cathari, Albigenses, and the like. They condemned marriage as unclean and made of celibacy the necessary condition for salvation. But they were heretics. The Church never con-demned matrimony. Following the biblical view of the world, Christian thought cannot accept the Hellenistic dualism. The material world is a creation of God; hence it is good and so is the human body with all its functions. The order "to grow and multiply" was given by the Crea-tor Himself (Gn 1:28), and in the New Convenant mar-riage has been even raised to the dignity of a sacrarnent (Eph 5:25-32). St. Paul does not' condemn marriage in Chapter Seven SDissertations 3, 22, quoted in A. Robertson and A. Plummer, Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the First Epistle of St. Paul to the Corinthians (Edinburgh: Clark, 1911), p. 158. 'Yet there were a few Stoic and Neoplatonic philosophers to consider celibacy as a higher state of life. See Epictetus, Disserta. tions 3, 22; 3, 26, 62. See also A. Oepke, "'Gun~," Theologische.; W6r. terbuch zum Neuen Testament, v. 1 (Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1933), p. 779. But those views never resulted in a wide movement, creating special institutions as was .the case in India. of the First Epistle to the Corinthians; yet is he not in-fluenced by Hellenistic thought when advocating vir-ginity? What does he mean by the "freedom from the worldly cares" which virginity makes possible? Is it not the indifference and the disengagement from the material world which the philosophers, advocated?. Isqt not closer to the Stoic ataraxia or Neoplatonic ekstasis than to the Christian agape? Before attributing to Hellenistic infiltrations the argu-ments of Paul in the seventh chapter of the First Epistle to the Corinthians, one should observe that such an ex-planation runs counter to the general patterns of Paul's thought and life. Paul did not consider salvation and re-ligious life as an escape from concrete realities. He has experienced ecstasy, but like all the genuine Christian mystics, he was more disturbed by it than proud of it.5 If he mentions his raptures, it is only to prove that he has a personal knowledge of what the boisterous charismatic Corinthians used to boast of. But himself, he would not glory in such things; his only pride is in his share in the humiliations of the cross (2 Cor 12:1-10). Ecstasy and deliverance from the material world were not Paul's ideal. His soul took easily to contemplation; yet he did not make of disengaged contemplation his su-preme goal. His life was surely not carefree in the sense that he had nothing to do but to meditate on the unseen realities, for was he not the missionary who had to carry "the daily burden, the worry for all the churches" besides "the labors, exertions, and persecutions" supported in carrying out his apostolate (2 Cot 11:23-27)? When he gave himself as an example of celibate life ("I would like that all of you should be like me" [1 Cor 7:7]), he did not set up a model of carelessness: "Who is weak and I am not weak? Who is scandalized and I am not on fire?" (2 Cor 11:29). Those were not the words or the attitude of a man indifferent to daily realities, lost in a nirvana of radi-cal abstraction. It is therefore a priori unlikely that the freedom from care which St. Paul saw in virginity had anything to do with the philosophical detachment from the material world. He does consider married life entangled in the world to be opposed to celibacy which is concerned only with the Lord. But does that contrast correspond to the Greek opposition of matter and spirit, kyl~ and nous? The answer must be negative. The biblical antithesis between the world (or the flesh) and God (or the Spirit) cannot be reduced to the philosophical dualism of matter and spirit. In the Bible the opposition of the world to s See C. Baumgartner, "Extase," in Dictionnaire de spiritualitd, v. 4 (Paris: Beauchesne, 1961), col. 2187-89. 4- 4- 4- Virginity VOLUME 22~ 1963 265 4. 4. 4. /. M.~.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 266 God is not ontological but moral: the world is not es-tranged from God by essence but by choice. Between the world and God there stands not a contradiction but a re-volt. Such is the clear teaching of the first chapters of Genesis. It is true that on account of man's sin, the whole order of the cosmos has been shaken: suffering and death have entered the world in the wake of sin. Yet though deeply marked by the curse of sin, the cosmos is not evil in itself; the trouble is in the heart of men, not in things.6 For centuries the prophets strove for the restoration of the original order through conversion; if only man would repent, he would recover "life" which is the harmony and peace of the original divine plan. When man proved too stubborn, the prophets understood that he was doomed. Sin was too deeply engrained in the world; death had to do its work; the present world with all its institu-tions had to be carried away. Yet since God is a God of mercy, hope remained. But it .turned into the hope of a new creation, of a salvation beyond death (Is 51:6; 65:17- 20; 66:22; Ez 37:1-14). It is this expectation of a world to come that the New Testament inherited. But that "world to come" or rather "the age to come," according to the exact meaning of the Hebrew phrase, is not the ethereal sphere of "ideas." Salvation does not consist in escaping the world but in passing from one world to another, from "this age" ruined by sin and enslaved by the "Powers" (Gal 4:3), to the "age to come" animated by the power of God's Spirit and irradiated with the divine glory. The aim of life is not "ecstasy" that would snatch man out of his body and above matter and time; it is an Exodus that takes him, body and soul, above the present condition and the corruption of sin. The image of the Exodus was frequent in the later prophets (Is 41:17-19; 43:19-20; 52:11-12) and passed to the New Testament (1 Cor 10:1- 11; Heb 2:1-4; 3:1-3; Apoc 15:1-5). Christian life is a pilgrimage (1 Pet 2:11). The Christian is a refugee run-ning from a doomed city to a place of shelter. Yet what he flees is not the flow of time but the contagion of sin and his refuge is not his spiritual self but God's kingdom. These were also Paul's views and they constitute the background of his apology for virginity. He does not op-pose marriage and continence as matter and spirit, good and evil. What he does contrast is the age to come and the present age. Virginity embodies the spirit of the king-dom; 7 marriage is rather an institution of this worhl. As Paul sees it in the First Epistle to the Corinthians, a,,For evil comes not out of the earth, nor does distress spring out of the g~ound. But man himself begets misery as sparks fly up-wards" (Jb 5:6-7). ~ See L. Legrand, "The Prophetical Meaning of Celibacy," REwEw voa l~tzc*ous, v. 20 (1961), pp. $$0-46. matrimony belongs to the "things of this world." It is not bad indeed but it is intimately connected with the present transient order. It shares in the inconsistency of this or-der; and like it, it is "subject to vanity," "enslaved to cor-ruption" that marks everything belonging to the present era (P, om 8:20-21). The world and its spirit are deeply ingrained in marriage; they enter married life through the very necessity for husband and wife "to please" each other (1 Cor 7:33-34). The verb "to please" in this context has a very strong meaning,s and Paul's thought cannot be properly grasped unless this meaning is recognized. For the modern reader, the words "to please one's husband and wife" evoke merely the sentimental show of affection and possibly of coquetry which expresses and fosters conjugal love. Con-sequently, when the text goes on to say that the married man "is divided" (v. 33), we think spontaneously of a heart divided in its affections in the modern romantic sense of the term. The difficulty for the married man would be that two different objects, Christ and his wife, appeal to his heart and that therefore he would be in the awkward position of being unable to give his love fully to either. This would be a very shallow explanation that hardly does justice to the views of the Apostle. After all, the love of God is not a matter of sensitivity; it belongs to a higher level and does not conflict with human natural feelings. God does not stand as a rival of His creatures if they do not try to usurp His place. The danger in wed-lock does not arise from a normal sentimental attachment to the partner; it lies elsewhere. The real meaning of the verb "to please" points in another direction. In a world which had little concern for chivalry and romanticism,0 more than coquetry and a show of affection were required "to please." The wife "pleased" her husband by giving him the children, he wanted (and birth control was not unknown in the Greco-P, oman antiquity10) and by con-a The Greek verb aresk6 may be very strong. Its connotations are not merely sentimental. In 1 Cor 10:13 Paul's desire "to please everybody" does not mean that he aims at popularity or that he avoids hurting the feelings of others. It expresses Paul's readiness to oblige, almost to serve all. It means about the same as "being all to all" (1 Cor 9:22). See W. Foerster, Theologisches W6rterbuch zum Neuen Testament, v. 1 (Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1933), p. 455. ~ See J. Carcopino, Daily Li]e in ~lncient Rome (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1956), pp. 94-5; W. J. Woodhouse, "Marriage," Encyclo. pedia o[ Religion and Ethics, v. 8 (Edinburgh: Clark, 1915), p. 444. 10 See A. E. Crawley, "Foeticide," Encyclopedia o] Religion and Ethics, v. 6 (1914), pp. 55-6. Child exposure also was not uncommon. Polybius attributed the decline of Greece° to the oliganthropia caused by those practices: "In our own times the whole of Hellas has been afflicted with a low birth rate or, in other words, with de-population, through which the states have been emptied of inhabi-tants with an accompanying fall of productivity, and this in spite of + + + Virginity VOLUME 22~ 1963 267 ducting the household efficiently (with the concessions to the ways of the world which business implied),xl For the husband it was a matter of securing [or his wife wealth, comfort, and social consideration. "Pleasing" each other covered all the aspects of the conjugal life, everything that made a marriage successful. It is easy to understand that such worldly success implied all sorts of compromises with the spirit of the world. Through the desire "to please," "the worries of the world" (v. 33) entered mar-ried life, those worries which, according to the parable, combined with wealth and pleasures, choke the growth of God's word (see Lk 8:14). If St. Paul is reticent with regard to marriage, it is not because it distracts the heart but because it tends to shoot deep roots into the present age of sin. Those roots are so deep that it is very difficult to cut oneself free, to keep in wedlock the soul of a pilgrim and to live the Exodus. Conjugal affection is not contradictorily opposed to Chris-tian requirements; but great is the danger of remaining bogged down in the present condition of considering 4- 4- 4" L. Legrand, M.E.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 268 the fact that we have not suffered from any continuous wars or epidemics . The people of Hellas had entered upon the false path of ostentation, avarice, and laziness and were therefore becoming unwilling to marry, or if they did marry, to bring up the children born to them; the majority were only willing to bring up at most one or two, in order to leave them wealthy and to spoil them in their childhood; and in consequence of all this the evil had been rapidly spreading. Where there are families of one or two children, of whom war claims one and disease the other for its victim, it is an evident and inevitable consequence that households should be left desolate and that states, precisely like beehives, should gradually lose their reserves and sink into impotence" (History 36, 7 as given in A. J. Toynbee, Greek Civilization and Character [New York: New American Library, 1954], p. 73). Modem authors have confirmed the judgment of the old historian: "The misery of a few districts in the third and second centuries B.C. would not suffice to explain the excesses of malthusianism; indeed it had always been a part of Greek manners; but at that time it took frightening proportions. Though we should be cautious in giving a general value to a few figures known only through epigraphy, they are not without sig-nificance. At Miletus, for seventy-nine families which received the citizenship between 228 .and 200, we find only one hundred forty-six children, out of which only twenty-eight were gifts; among those seventy-nine families, thirty-one have two children and thirty-two only one. In the course of the third century at Eretria, one out of twelve families and at Pharsalus one out of seven has more than a son; out of six hundred families known through the inscriptions of Delphi, six only have two girls. Seeing that, we cannot doubt the accuracy of the famous statement of Poseidippos: 'Even a rich man always exposes a daughter'" (R. Cohen, La Grdce et l'helldnisation du monde antique [Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1948], p. ~80). n See the rather blunt statement of the Pseudo-Demo:;thenes (59, 122): "We have heterae for our pleasure, concubines for the daily care of the body, and wives to beget legitimate children and to have somebody who can be trusted with the care of the household." pleasure, family welfare, and honor as 'the absolute goal, of letting matrimony degenerate into a mere worldly af-fair. What one would attempt if one were alone, one dare not do for the sake of the other so that, actually, through the other party it is the world and its spirit which enter the family. Conjugal harmony is: kept at the c0st of con-descensions to the weakness found or supposed to exist in the other. It is harder still in wedlock than in single life to behave already now as a citizen of heaven, to follow the ideal of the beatitudes, to be poor and meek, to bear persecutions happily, to accept being famished and down-trodden. How rare the spiritual harmony that enables a whole household to meet the challenge of the kingdom joyfullyl As Bacon said, "he that hath wife and children hath given hostages to fortune" and "children sweeten labors but they make misfortunes more bitter.''12 It may be said that this picture of matrimony is one-sided, that Christian matrimony is not only "a thing of this world." It has also a reference to the world to come by its sacramental value. This is true and the point will be considered later.13 It is clear that to give a complete and balanced theological appraisal of matrimony, Paul should have said that it is in the measure in which it is not transformed by the di-vine agap~ that conjugal love divides the soul. He should have explained that for husband and wife the desire to please each other is wrong only if and as far as they rep-resent for each other not Christ but the world with its devious judgments and seductions. But in the seventh chapter of First Corinthians Paul does not intend to give a full theology of marriage. Either because he was still to appreciate fully the positive Chris-tian value of matrimony14 or simply because--as he often does--he simplifies his thought to express it more clearly, he considers only the "worldly" aspect of married life. This worldly aspect does exist. For all its sacramental value, marriage has one side turned towards the present age. It must have that worldly side to be a sacrament at all, to be a sign. And there is always a risk that it is only this aspect that will be seen by men and that they will set their heart on the sign instead of reaching out to the signified. Sacramental realities can also be veils. Thus ~ Quoted in A. Robertson and A. Plummer,°First Corinthians, p. 154. 13See the second half of the present article. l~This is the view of C. H. Dodd in New Testament Studies (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1953), pp. 113-17. The opposite stand is taken by O. Cullmann, The Early Church (London: SCM Press, 1956), p. 173; and by X. Leon-Dufour, "Mariage et con-tinence selon S. Paul," .4 la rencontre de Dieu: Memorial .41bert Gdlin (Le Puy: Mappus, 1961), pp. 319-28. 4. 4. 4. Virginity VOLUME 22~ 1963 269 4. 4. L. Legrand, M.E.P . REVIEW I:OR REI.I~IOUS 270 when receiving manna in the desert or the miraculous loaves of Jesus, the Jews considered only "the food that perisheth" (Jn 6:27) and dreamt of an earthly kingdom with an unlimited and toilless supply of bread, They failed to perceive in the bread the power of God's word feeding them unto the "life of the ages to come" (Jn 6:26- 40). Thus, as experience proves, married people are easily tempted to set their heart upon the present tenor of marriage and lose sight of its sacramental dimension. In First Corinthians, Chapter Seven, Paul referred to that common experience which had taught the Corinthians that married life is not easily a clear and limpid reflec-tion of the divine agape. Concretely, the necessity for husband and wife "to please" each other often entails compromises with the world; for, as St. Paul and the Corinthians knew well, it is hardly possible "to please" both man and Christ (Gal 1:I0). Hence appears the significance of the contrast Paul saw between marriage and virginity. Marriage is rooted in this world. Virginity belongs to the age to come. Marriage is not condemned. It does not embody the evil of this world; it can be redeemed and transfigured. Yet it is discouraged. This is not because it multiplies earthly obligations and petty worries restricting the men-tal freedom to meditate and contemplate. Neither is because it proposes objects of affection other than Christ. It is not wife and children which disturb men but their worldly--real or supposed--requirements. The danger of matrimony is that by the whole force of circumstances which surround it it tends to remain a "thing of this age" and to enfold men in the spirit of this world. By contrast, virginity is .the ideal condition of the pil-grim who wants to progress swiftly and unencumbered across the desert. Lightly shod and with loins girt, he goes on his Exodus; he leaves the world behind and strives after the world to come. He is undivided. This does not mean that his heart has nobody to beat for but Christ. On the contrary, his love for Christ will have to take on the dimensions of the whole Body of Christ and will have to encompass the world. It means that no human love, no necessity "to please" man, will oblige him to side with the world and place him in the stretched condition of one who belongs to both sides and is torn between two loyalties, two spirits, and two standards. He is free; he has no cares, at least no cares pertaining to this world. He does not know concerns which settled family life is almost bound to cause, concerns for wealth, comforts, safety, fame. He has not the problem of secur-ing welfare and tranquillity for his dear ones in a shaken world that runs to its ruin. The Christian celibate has none of these worries. This again does not mean that he has no cares at all and that he has nothing else to do than to devote himself to intellectual or ascetical pursuit. He has his cares, the "cares for the things of the Lord" (vv. 32, ~4). "The things of the Lord" which should l~'d the virgin's only concern are not the suprasensible ideas reached by contemplation. The "Lord" in St. Paul is the risen Christ, endowed with power a~d glory after His Resurrec-tion. 1~ "The things of the Lord" are therefore the whole order which has the risen Christ as its center, the new creation, the kingdom, and, here on earth, the Church.I° As in the case of the Apostle himself, the concern only for "the things of the Lord" will not mean ataraxia, in-difference. The Christian celibate will not be spared the heavy world and the burning preoccupations of his serv-ices to the Lord. But they will be only the outward mani-festation of his devotion to his Master (see 1 Cor 9:19). Such is the freedom of the virgin. It is not the indiffer-ence which is reflected, for instance, on the serene fea-tures of the gods of Phidias, with their clear eyes that ignore the turmoil of the world to rest on the harmony of the changeless ideas. We could rather feature the Christian dedicated to virginity as the Moses of Michel-angelo (without the gigantism which is the artist's own); there is no indifference in him; he looks firmly at the children of Israel who surround him and his eyes reflect the love of God for the chosen people but also the divine disappointment and wrath. Beyond them, he sees the Holy Land-or the mountain--where he must lead them. His muscular body strains towards it; his face glows with the glory that dawns upon it. Union with Christ The typology of the Exodus does not cover entirely the reality of Christian life. At the same time as it is an ~5,,This designation expresses as does no other the thought that Christ is exalted to God's right hand, glorified and now intercedes for us before the Father" (O. Cullmann, The Christology of the New Testament [London: SCM Press, 1959], p. 195). See also the several studies of L. Cerfaux gathered in Recueil Lucien Cerfaux (Gem-bloux: Duculot, 1954), v. !, pp. :~-188. A synthesis may be found in Cerfaux's Christ in the Theology of St. Paul (Edinburgh: Nelson, 1958), pp. 461-79. 1o The Vulgate and the Latin fathers have."idealized" the opposi-tion between marriage and virginity by reading in v. 32 "quornodo placeat Deo" (instead of KyriO of the Greek text) and probably understanding similarly in v. 34 Domini of God instead of Christ (as Knox has done in his translation). By doing this, they bring the contrast closer to Platonic thought. For Paul, the contrast is not directly between the world and God, creatures and Creator, but be-tween the world and the "things of Christ," that is the present world and the new creation which Christ contains in Himself. ÷ ÷ ÷ girginity VOLUME 22, 1963 4. L. Legrand, M.E.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Exodus, Christian life is also life in the Land of Promise. We are still in the desert; yet the glory of the new Jeru-salem dawns already upon us. We are still in the flesh and in the world; yet we live already in Spirit and are the citizens of heaven (Phil 3:20). Correspondingly, virginity does not belong only to the desert but also to the new Jerusalem. It does not show only the tenseness of the pilgrim who wants to be unim-peded in his progression; it marks also the joy of the ar-rival when the soul has found at last what it longed for. Celibacy is not only total detachment from "the things that are upon the earth"; it is also total communion in "the things that are above"; it is life, "hidden with Christ in God" (Col 3:1-8). Free from the world, the celibate ties himself to Christ with bonds of love. Having no wife or husband "to please," the celibate is at liberty to dedi-cate all his care "to please the Lord" (1 Cor 7:82). Here also, when St. Paul says that the aim of the virgin is "to please the Lord," we should beware of giving the phrase merely sentimental significance. "To please the Lord" does not mean simply to comfort and console the Heart of Jesus. In First Corinthians "to please the Lord" is set in parallelism with "to please his wife." This paral-lelism invites us to give the same strong meaning in both cases. In the context of matrimony, the verb "to please!' expressed the interdependence and mutual belonging husband and wife. When applied to the celibate, it must describe the loving enslavement to Christ which gives continence its value. The virgin belongs to Christ as the wife belongs to her husband. To please her husband, the wife must share entirely in his views and wishes. To please the Lord, analogically, the virgin must be totally dedi-cated to Him and take His stand in everything. The theme of the spiritual marriage lies in the background. The construction of the whole passage points 'to that theme: by balancing in parallelism virginal life and con-jugal union, Paul suggests that to some extent Christ is to the virgin what the husband is to the wife.lz ~ See X. Leon-Dufour, "Mariage et continence," pp. ~22-24. In a penetrating literary analysis of 1 Cor 7, the author shows that the very construction of the chapter expresses the mutual belonging of virginity and matrimony. The chapter is built on a scheme A-B-A' (two corresponding parts divided by a digression), quite common in Paul's epistles. Part A (vv. 1-16) is addressed to married people and part A' (vv. 25-40) to the unmarried. Now we notice that in both parts the progression of the thought is disturbed by considerations belonging to the antithetic section: A speaks already about virginity (vv. 6-7) and A' cannot but evoke matrimony "as if the continence to which Paul invites his flock could be given its full significance only in relation with married life" (p. 323). Thus "the very literary and psychological trend of the chapter shows marriage and conti-nence as two inseparable realities contrasting with and yet complet-ing each other" (p. 324). The theme of the spiritual marriage figures explicitly and is connected with virginity in Second Corinthians 11:2: I am jealous for you with a divine jealousy. Fo~ I betrothed you to one husband that I may present you as a chaste virgin to Christ. This verse is a short allegory comparing the Corinthi-ans to a betrothed girl taken to the bridegroom by her father or by the mesit~s, the go-between who arranged the marriage. The image derives from the Old Testament where Israel is frequently called the bride of Yahweh (see Hos 2:21-22; J1 1:8; Is 54:5-6; 62:5; Jer 3:1; Ez 16:6- 43). Admittedly this text does not refer directly to the question of virginity. As in the Old Testament, the bride is not an individual but a community, here the church of Corinth. Moreover, the marriage it alludes to will be celebrated only at the Parousia; for the time being, the Church is only "betrothed." In that context "virginity is nothing else than a metaphor expressing undivided dedi-cation to Christ.''is Yet it is not insignificant that Paul uses the comparison of a "chaste virgin" to describe the union of the Church with Christ. It implies that virginal life is a living likeness of that union. What was a mere metaphor in the Old Testament takes flesh and blood in the person of the virgin. She embodies fully the mutual belonging of Christ and the Church. The "marriage feast" of the Parousia is anticipated in her life. She is given to live in all its integrity the undivided attachment of the Church for her Head. In her shines the agap~ which joins the bride to the Bridegroom and makes them "one body." Virginity is agape; it has all the intensity of love; it is not primarily disengagement and withdrawal. It is unqualified dedication to the "one husband" Christ. It shows forth the exclusiveness of that unique attach-ment. As St. Paul says, using the language of human pas-sion, it is a "jealousy," a love impatient of any alien al-legiance. Christian virginity is a spiritual marriage with Christ. It is true that Paul himself did not use the phrase. Neither did Luke when explaining the relationship of the Virgin Mary with the Holy Spirit in the Gospel of Infancy. The reason is probably that Paul and Luke avoided sponta-neously words which, in the world they lived in, were too heavily loaded with pagan connotations. The hieros gamos, the sacred union of a god with a woman had been a common feature of mythology from Sumerian times on-wards and had its ritual representation in the cult and in the mysteries. In the frame of nature worship or of a ~sSee G. Delling, Theologisches W6rterbuch zum Neuen Testa-ment, v. 5 (Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1954), p. 835. ÷ ÷ ÷ VirginRy ÷ ÷ L. Legrand, M.E.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 274 pantheistic religion, it symbolized the fecundity of na-ture. There is obviously no relation between the pagan fertility cult and the Christian ideal of continence fol-lowed by Mary and tl:te virgins. And it is understandable that Paul and Luke refrained from using the phrase "spiritual or divine marriage," since it could too easily be understood as another case of hieros garnos. That their prudence was justified is proved by the wild conclusions which the comparative school of exegesis, from the times of Celsus till our days, has drawn from the discreet allu-sions they made to the Biblical theme of God's alliance with Israel. Yet it is the allegory of marriage, stripped of any asso-ciation with nature worship, which accounts best for the Pauline and Christian doctrine of virginity. The doctrine of virginity branches of[ from the doctrine of matrimony. We must, therefore, see what marriage meant for Paul to understand what "spiritual marriage" might have meant for him if he had used the words, what he had actually in mind when he wrote of the "chaste virgin presented to the one husband Christ." It is in Ephesians 5:25-32 that the Apostle explains most fully the Christian significance of matrimony. It can be said that if the sev-enth chapter of First Corinthians pictured wedlock as it is in fact, Ephesians 5:25-32 shows it in all its ideal sacra-mental beauty. But the "lofty sacrament" opens on to the prospect of virginity. In Ephesians 5:25-32 as in Second Corinthians II:2, the Church is compared to the bride taken to the bride-groom for the nuptial celebration: Husbands, love your wife as Christ loved the Church: for her, he gave himself up, sanctifying her, cleasing her by water aild word, so that he might present the Church to himself all glori-ous, with no stain or wrinkle or anything of the sort but holy and without blemish. Thus men should love their wives. In this text there is no go-between. Christ Himself prepares His bride and there is a stress on the point that she was not pure but was made so by the cleansing love of the divine Spouse. That love which cleanses through the laver of baptism springs forth from the cross; the words "savior" and "he gave himself up" show the sacrificial background of Paul's thought. The cross was already the marriage function which Second Corinthians 11:2 had seen in the frame of the Parousia. It is on Calvary that the bride, cleansed by the love of her Spouse, W:lS em-braced by Him to become "one body" with Him. The greatness of Christian matrimony derives from its relation to the union of Christ with the Church which was realized on the cross. Conjugal love, that mysterious power which tears man and woman away from their fam-ily to draw them together (v. 31) was a sign, a "mystery." It had a hidden significance. In a secret way, it prefigured the love, the agap~ that seals together Christ and the Church and makes them one body (v. 32). The Old Testa-ment did not know this mysterious orientation of the conjugal union but now the mystery is revealed. If placed under the influence of 'the,sacrifice of Christ', that is, if it is lived in the spirit of unselfishness and dedication which breathed in the sacrifice of Christ, conjugal love sym-bolizes the bond of charity which unites the Church with her Head and contains the life flowing through their joint Body (vv. 23, 30). Penetrated with the spirit of Christ, matrimony enshrines the divine agape; it con-tinues the sacrifice of Calvary and its efficacy. By that sacramental efficacy and in the line of that symbolism, each party represents, for the other, Christ and His re-quirements of self-denying charity: husbands love their wives as Christ loved the Church and wives obey their husbands with the same joyful abandon which animates the Church (vv. 33, 22-25). In the measure in which con-jugal affection accepts to turn into charity, wedlock is holy and "has a relevance to Christ and the Church" (v. 32); indeed, it is a part of their mysterious union. Now, "lofty" as it may be, the "mystery" of Christian matrimony remains a sign, imperfect and inadequate as any sign. After all, in Ephesians 5:25-32 it. is not said that Christ loved the Church as a husband loves his wife, but rather that husbands should love like Christ: Con-jugal love does not explain the union of Christ for'the Church; on the contrary, this union reveals the latent significance of marriage. The agap~ of Christ is set as the ideal norm of human love: it is the reality whereas matri-mony is only its sacrament. Though the "mystery" it contained has been revealed, matrimony keeps its existence and its consistency of sign, as if the veil had not been removed but only pierced b~ a powerful light. The light shines through, the veil be-comes the medium of communication of the light; but it is still there; and, transparent as it may be, it may still absorb some of the light. Containing a significance and an efficacy pertaining to the world to come, matrimony keeps its earthly solidity and persists in its "this-worldly" existence. At the same time as it announces the eschato-logical marriage feast of the Lamb, it remains union in a flesh not yet transfigured by the Spirit.19 :~The point can be expressed technically in the theological lan-guage which distinguishes in the sacraments between the sacra. mentum tantum, the res tantum, and the reset sacramentum. In matrimony, the res is the divine agap~ sealing the unity of the Mys-tical Body as it seals Me conjugal cell. The sacramentum tantum is the conjugal union. Christian marriage is reset sacramentum: there is intercompenetration of the symbol and of the spiritual reality. Christian virginity on the contrary is the res tantum of matrimony. 4- 4- Virginity VOLUME 22, 1963 275 4. 4. 4. L. Legrand, M.E.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS We saw that it is that "worldly" aspect of matrimony which is responsible for its spiritual opacity.2° The spirit-ual reality may be absorbed in the worldly thickness of the "sign" and even in the most favorable cases when it is the most transparent, matrimony remains a sign, a re-flection, not the light itself. This sacramental value of matrimony is at the same time its greatness and imper-fection. The "mystery" is at once revealed through the screen, yet hidden in its worldly folds. Or, to take an image which is Paul's, it reflects the agap~ of the cross, but only in the cloudy and confused way of the old mir-rors of polished metal (see I Cor 13:12). Because it is a closer participation in the sacrifice of the cross, virginity represents better the agap~ which ani-mated it. It not only reflects that love, it embodies it. Virginity is not a sacrament. It does not set the screen of any sign between Christ and man. In it, the divine love is not refracted through the mediation of any "worldly" feeling. There is nobody who stands for Christ to repre-sent Him; the contact is direct between Christ and the bride. Matrimony is turned towards the agap~ of the sacrificed Christ as towards its fulfillment; virginity com-munes directly in that agap& The agap~ lived in matri-mony was mediated charity; virginity is agap~ reaching directly its object. In the words of the Roman liturgy: While no prohibition lessens the dignity of marriage and while the nuptial blessing resting on matrimony is safeguarded, nevertheless there will be nobler souls who, spurning the carnal union entered into by man and wife, strive after the mystery it signifies ([astidirent connubiura, concupiscerent sacramentura). Without imitating what takes place in matrimony., they devote their entire love to the mystery signified by marriage (nec imi-tarentur quod nuptiis agitur, sed diligerent quod nuptiis pr~,e-notatur).~ 1 Virginity is the plentitude of agapO; it shows forth the reality that matrimony contains only in a veiled way. It is the full revelation of the "mystery" still half hidden in sacramental marriage.22 Like the love of the Spouse in the Canticle, the agapd of the celibate is a blazing fire, a flame of Yahweh (see Cant 8:6).23 This fire of love makes of virginal life a holo- ~o See the first part of the present article. .-a Preface of the Consecration of Virgins in the Roman Pontifical. We fellow the translation given in L. Munster, Christ in His Conse-crated Virgins (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1957), pp. 131-2. ="To be living images of the perfect integrity which forms the bond of union between the Church and her divine Bridegroom is assuredly the supreme glory o~ the virgin" (Plus XII, Sacra Vir-ginitas). = We follow for this text the translation of A. Robert, L~ Can-tique des cantiqu~s (Paris: Cerf, 1951), p. 58. caust in which the "flesh" is burnt up and with it any sign, any reality of the present world. Virginity is love impatient of the mediation of any symbols. In that re-spect too, it is analogous to the sacrifice of the cross: the death on the cross was a sacrifice without rites because in its utter despoliation all the.symbolical realities of the world came to an end; there remained only the naked corpse on the bare wood in a total holocaust of anything belonging to this world. Virginity too is a festivity with-out rites, a marriage feast celebrated without any exter-nal rejoicings because, as the cross and in it, this marriage is consummated and consumed in a holocaust of self-denying love that raises it above this world. It is in that sense that virginity is a spiritual marriage. It is a marriage: in the phrase "spiritual matrimony," the adjective does not obliterate the noun. Virginity is a thing of love, total communion to the divine agap~ which is the essence of the life of Christ and of life in Christ. That marriage is spiritual. Spiritual does not mean metaphorical. The spiritual union of Christ with the vir-gin is not a vague likeness of the conjugal union. It is rather the opposite; virginity gives the true picture of real love in all its intensity and purity. Neither is it spiritual in the Platonic sense of the term. It does not correspond to a chimerical dream of abolition of the flesh. In virginity the flesh is accepted as it was in the Incarnation. But it is sanctified, transformed as the flesh of Jesus was in His glorification. The glorification does not delete the Incarnation; it fulfills it. Virginity is no negation of the flesh but its consecration. The virginal union with Christ is spiritual in the bib-lical sense of the term. It shows man's transformation by the power of the Spirit. The Spirit, the divine force that animates the new creation, takes possession of man's body and soul, freeing them from "the shackles of corruption" to give them "the glorious liberty of the children of God." And the transforming force which the Spirit implants in the virgin is the charity of God (Rom 5:5), the flame of love which, coming from God, consumes the flesh of the virgin and transmutes it into the likeness of the "spiritual flesh" of the risen Christ (1 Cot 15:45-49). The New Testament does not explicitly call virginity a spiritual marriage. Yet its doctrine of marriage and its exhortations to virginity converge towards that theme because both states of life refer to the mysterious con-nubial union of Christ and the Church which marriage prefigures and virginity embodies. Linked by that com-mon relation to the mystery of Christ, virginity and matri-mony are intimately connected. Matrimony moves to- + + + Virginity VOLUME 22, 1963 4. 4. 4. L. Legrand, M .E.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS wards a virginal type of love as towards its fulfillment, and virginity is nothing but the full realization of that which is prefigured in marriage. The best exposition of the spiritual meaning of Chris-tian virginity would be, therefore, a Christian transposi-tion of the Canticle of Canticles, the nuptial song of the Old Testament.~4 The liturgy, the fathers of the Church, and the mystics have understood it spontaneously and have repeatedly made of the Canticle the epithalamium of the Christian life dedicated to the Lord. From Origen's homilies on the Canticle to the com-mentary of St. Bernard and the Spiritual Canticle of St. John of the Cross, it would be easy to compose a mag-nificent anthology in which the best of Christian elo-quence and lyricism would figure. As a sample of what this anthology would contain, it is difficult to resist the temptation of quoting at least extracts of the hymn with which Methodius concludes his Symposium on Chastity. The Ten Virgins who have taken part in the symposium conclude their discussion with the triumphal chorus: For Thee, I keep myself chaste, and with a lighted torch in hand, 0 my Spouse, I come to meet Thee. And the stanzas follow each other, composed by Thecla, the most eloquent among them: From above, O virgins, there came the sound of a voice that raises the dead. It says: Hasten to meet the Bridegroom in white robes and with lamp in hand. Turn to the East. Arise lest the King should precede you at the gates. [Chorus:] For Thee, I keep myself .'. For Thee, O King, spurning a rich home and the embrace of mortals, I came in spotless robes, to enter with Thee within tile bridal chambers. [Chorus:] For Thee, I keep myself. In my eagerness for Thy grace, O Lord, I forget my own country. I forget the dances of my companions, the desire even of mother and kindred, for Thou, 0 Christ, art all things to me. [Chorus:] For Thee, I keep myself. 0 blessed bride of God, thy couch do we adorn with hymns. And we praise thee, O Church, immaculate virgin, pure like snow, wise, undefiled, lovely. [Chorus:] For Thee, I keep myself. Open thy gates, O resplendent queen, and take us too within the bridal room. O spotless and triumphant bride, breathing ~ Such transposition is not too distant from the literal sense if it is accepted that in its literal sense the Canticle is an allegory of the convenant relationship of Yahweh with Israel. See A. Robert, Le Cantique, pp. 7-23; also A. Feuillet, Le Cantique des cantiques (Paris: Cerf, 1953). beauty, behold we stand round Christ, clad like Him, singing thy nuptials, O happy maiden.~ The canticle of Methodius weaves a web of biblical themes. The bride of the Canticle and of Psalm 45 has joined the Bridegroom of the parable (Mr 27:.!-13). The voice that arouses the Ten~Vii-gihs is tha(.~vhich had called Abraham and invited him to leave "home and kindred" for the first Exodus to Canaan (Gn 12:1). It is also the voice that raised Christ from the dead. The nup-tial procession is at the same time an Exodus and an As-cension that takes the Church and the virgins to the bridal chamber of the King. There is more in that text than fanciful allegory; the profusion of biblical allusions shows a thought deeply rooted in biblical ground. The hymn echoes Paul's call to virginity, Though amplified, the exhortation of the Apostle is rendered faithfully. The attitude and the bliss of the Ten Virgins corresponds exactly to the ideal proposed by Paul to the Corinthians of a life "free from worldly worries" to be spent "waiting upon the Lord without distraction" (1 Cot 7:35). ~Patrologia Graeca, v. 18, col. 208-9. A substantial part of the hymn is quoted and translated in J. Quasten, Patrology, v. 2 {Utrecht: Spectrum, 1953), pp. 4, ÷ ÷ VOLUME 22~ 196;~ 279 SISTER MARY CELESTE, S.M. The Virtue of Mercy Sister Mary leste, $.M., is on the faculty of the Col' lege of Our Lady of Mercy; 2300 Ade-line Drive; Burlin-game, California. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS As the good news of Christ continues to be heralded, classrooms in Catholic schools rapidly mushroom into being and innumerable extra rows of desks are squeezed into innumerable older rooms; CGD classes flourish; hos-pital beds are filled; homes for the aged, the mentally ill, the delinquent, the abandoned and helpless have long waiting lists; clinics are daily crowded to capacity. The works of mercy are literally endless. Yet precisely for that reason, their true purpose must be all the more clearly understood if the pitfall of activism is to be avoided. This is especially necessary for the sister whose community is officially sent by the Church to bear witness to Christ in the ministry of mercy. She is responsible, in whatever way her individual position allows, to see to it that the works are authentically merciful ones--that they are per-meated through and through with the spirit of Christ's mercy. This means that she must know well what mercy is and how it is incarnated in her own apostolic action. If we follow the fruitful approach of St. Thomas in striving to gain. some insight into the nature of mercy, we will begin not with an abstract definition of it but rather with the concrete existential situation in which a merciful person finds scope for his activities. We may then analyze the kind of response that is given in such a situation, and finally we may ask what kind of person is needed for these works--one who will respond merci-fully. Since mercy, according to St. Thomas, is a virtue,1 this last question involves asking about the particular habit-patterns of virtue which must be integrated into the personality of one who is merciful. But since it also entails a rather complex group of associated virtues and supporting habits, we must examine this structure in some detail in order to find out precisely what kind of effort is needed to build such habits and thus to develop most effectively the virtue of mercy. Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, a.3. Starting-Point: the Misery of Man First, let us turn to the concrete situation. Where does a person inspired by mercy find a ready field for the driv-ing impulse of this spirit? Always~ it is in a need. But it is not just any need; not physical need alone, although this may be part of it. There must be a specifically human need: a situation in which man finds himself in misery, falling short of what he needs to attain his human fulfill-ment. 2 Ultimately, this fulfillment lies in his beatific union with God; and therefore his most radical misery is his sinfulness. All unhappiness stems from this. But in addition to guilt before God, human misery vitiates every facet of existence: it is the old problem of evil in the world of the sons of Adam. The stimulus for mercy, then, is human distress. It is man faced with the impossibility o[ attaining the true happiness for which he is destined,n It is Job buffetted by Satan; it is the unfaithful wife of Hosea in her willful waywardness; it is the thief dying on the cross. In our own day, in a far more sophisticated and complex civili-zation, the misery of man takes on the most piteous of forms--all the heavy trials that burden man's physical life and his mind and spirit; inadequacy and weakness and guilt of all kinds; confusion of the young who idealis-tically grope for vague goals yet are shackled by luxury and habits of indecision; bitterness, bewilderment, neg-lect and persecution, even just punishment; and espe-cially, the despair of those who have given up the search for happiness. It is man in misery, lacking what he needs for the fulfillment of his humanness in union with God. The Works of Mercy: Response to Misery What response does misery evoke in the merciful? It inspires and stimulates the work of carrying out into ef-fective action whatever will i-eally remove the defects which stand in the way of another person's happiness. God Himself is called merciful because oust of His loving kindness He actually takes away the miseries of man.4 Especially by His redemptive Passion and Resurrection, Christ delivered man from the greatest of miseries; and in this act God showed more abundant mercy than if He had forgiven sins without asking satisfaction, for He actu-ally went to the trouble, as it were, of doing something personal and positive to remedy the situation.5 So, too, a merciful person does all he can to dispel the misery of another. *Summa Theologiae, I, q.21, a.4. Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, a.1. Summa Contra Gentiles, 1, c.91. Sumlna Theologiae, 3, q.46, a.l, ad 3. ÷ ÷ ÷ Mercy VOLUMI: 22, 1963 2~! + Sister Mary Celeste, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 282 This means that certain external works are necessary in order to communicate the good things which the dis-tressed person lacks,e St. Thomas classes these works un-der the heading of "almsgiving," and divides them ac-cording to the kind of need that cries out for relieL Some needs are concerned with the maintenance of physical life: food, clothing, shelter, care in sickness, freedom from slavery of all sorts. But man is not merely a physical thing; so proper respect must be given the body destined for resurrection, and his spiritual needs must be relieved by prayer, instruction, and counseling. The sorrowful must be encouraged and the wayward corrected and pardoned.7 It is within the context of the active life, therefore, that the merciful person directly ministers to the needs of his neighbor.S He carries out into the realm of action the teaching of St. John to love not in word or tongue only but in deed and in truth (1 Jn 3:18). Such response to misery in the works of mercy is easily observable in the lives of the founders of religious insti-tutes which flourish today. We are so familiar with the details of our own founder's work that we tend to forget the amazing range of misery with which he was con-fronted. In fact, no individual, however energetic, can possibly cope with the vast extent of human ills that come within his vision. Thus it was a natural development that, under the leadership of a great person, others shar-ing his spirit formed themselves into a group in order to accomplish what they could not do as individuals. The work of schools, hospitals, institutions for the care of the poor and aged and delinquent in turn necessitated the organization of a religious community which would be inspired by the vital spirit of its founder and would as-sure continuity to the works. A community of itself, however, is not enough. Though the outward forms of human misery may change with time and place, its essence is as universal as wounded hu-manity itself. And in her universal compassion, Mother Church incorporates the community as a living member within herself. Through the major superior as her repre-sentative, the Church receives the vows by which an in-dividual religious is totally committed to Christ. In turn, she gives to the community an official mandate to carry out the works of mercy as part of her own universal apos-tolate of bringing all men to union with God in Christ. This goal is identical with that of the perfection o1! hu-man happiness for all men, the ultimate obliteratic.,n of human misery. Therefore, every member of a community nSumma Theologiae, 2-2, q.32, a.5. Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.32, a.2 and 3 ~Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.188, a.2; De Caritate, a.8; De Per- [ectione Vitae Spiritualis, c.13. whose very raison d'etre is the Church's works of mercy must be essentially dedicated to the active life of service. Within the framework of her religious life, the sister must minister to the poor, the sick, those in need of instruc-tion and care. If she does not carry out her share with complete personal dedication,, she .not only,, fails to be a merciful individual and thwarts the united endeavor of her community but in a real sense hinders the very work of Christ in His Church. The Merci]ul Person As active religious, then, it is essential that we become the kind of person who will respond to human misery in a way that will really bring about its relief and thus ef-fect the happiness of our fellow man in his union with God. Our vocation is to be a merciful person. What is meant by saying that we want to become a certain kind of person? It is a fact that at entrance into religious life, we are already possessed of a distinctive personality; and personalities vary greatly. Of course, these differences will remain. But when we become a re-ligious, we do intend to become someone in a way that we were not before. We intend to grow into an attitude, to take on a new quality and direction of endeavor which is characteristic of our community. We express this in-tention by saying that we want to have the spirit of the community, to incorporate into our personality that par-ticular aspect of Christian spirituality which is best suited to the apostolic work proper to this community. This means that we consciously try to cultivate those habitual ways of acting which characterize the merciful person. We want, in other words, to acquire the habit, the virtue of mercy.° Human virtue, according to St. Thomas, is an opera-tive habit disposing a man to good action.1° As strictly human, it cannot be merely an automatism which, oni:e acquired, allows us to carry on action in a quasi-mechani-cal and unthinking way, like tying our shoelaces,it Virtue is a mastery-habit, demanding attention and free adher- ~ In this discussion we are speaking of moral virtue as perfecting human powers insofar as it is acquired by our own efforts. It is commonly taught that, in addition, there are "infused moral vir-tues," which complement the acquired ones and come with sanctify-ing grace and charity. lOSumma Theologiae, 1-2, q.55, a.2 and 3. 1, Servais Pinckaers, O.P., "Virtue Is Not a Habit," Cross Cur-rents, v. 12 (Winter, 1962), p. 68. "To define virtue as a habit would seem necessarily to be making man into a pure automaton, and to be depriving his action of its properly human value." The author here clearly limits his meaning of "habit" to "automatism,,' and does not take the word to include "mastery-habit" as we have done here. ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Mary Celeste, S.M. REVIEW FOR REL[GIOUS 284 ence of the will, manifesting an interiority and personal commitment in each action.12 The virtues we acquire be-come, as it were, a second nature to us, wellsprings of good actions which strengthen and dispose our human powers for realizing their specific goodness. Thus, without sacri-ficing individuality, members of a community strive to acquire a perfecting habit which exercises a distinctive influence as the "spirit" of their work. As soon as we begin to ask what mercy is, it becomes obvious that we cannot deal with it as an isolated virtue. In the practical order, of course, this is true of any virtue. Mercy in action requires a whole complexus of related virtues, a patterned grouping of habits to support it. It requires at the same time a principle of unity by which these habits are integrated into the structure of one's per-sonality and can function in cooperation for a common end. Because of the many strenuous and complex de-mands made by the external works of mercy, a sister whose life is dedicated to such worlds will be gravely en-dangered by a lack of unity in her person. But conversely, her life will be all the richer and more fruitful if it is consciously balanced and ordered toward a unified goal. This is especially crucial for a woman. Psychologically, a woman's strength lies not so much in the mastery of a single field as it does in the integrating power which weaves a widespread variety of human activities into a coherent wholeness. In the life of a sister engaged in works of mercy, the pattern of wholeness--that is, of those vir-tues and habits of action which are consciously acquired during the formative years of religious life--is specifically focused on the kind of situation which should evoke mercy: namely, that of human misery. In the responding compassion of the merciful woman, every power of her human personality is engaged. For one whose vocation it is to be thus dedicated and whose calling as religious includes the essential obliga-tion to strive for maturity and full effectiveness in the apostolate, it is important to know clearly how her pow-ers can be unified and perfected for merciful action so that such action comes as it were by second nature, ha-bitually. Everyone has the powers. The crux of the mat-ter is the question of virtue and of the subordinate good habits conducive to virtuous action. Here finally we come to the virtue of mercy in its plenary context: as a kind of master-habit toward whose perfect operation the ac-tivities of other human powers are directed by subordi-n See George P. Klubertanz, S.J., The Philosophy o! Human Nature (New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, 1953), pp. 272-97. The content of this paper owes much to further developments of these ideas in a course on Thomistic theory of moral character given by Fr. Klubertanz. nate habits. The mature personality of the religious is stabilized (but by no means stereotyped) and made apt for merciful action by the unified structuring of these interrelated habits. The Perception oI Misery The initiation of actual response to misery is the recog-nition of it. This seems obvious. Yet there are facets of misery which are not so obvious that they are recognized by everyone; and there are degrees of awareness among those who do recognize that there is some need. The sister who aims to acquire the virtue of mercy must ask: How can human misery be most keenly perceived? How ca, n insight into unhappiness be developed and deepened? There is no question, first of all, of "training" our eyes and ears; whatever we see, we see, and getting glasses to perfect our vision is not habituation at all but only an aid to the proper actual functioning of our sense o1: sight. The perception of unhappiness is rather a matter of noticing, of paying attention to those elements within our range of vision which carry meaning. To do this, the powers of imagination, sense memory, and estimative sense must be developed under the guidance of reason so that one habitually notices the kind of detail that is rele-vant. Some accumulation of experience is necessary here. For a young religious endeavoring to build the needed habits, it will be very helpful to have the guidance of an experienced person who can direct her interested atten-tion to the minute aspects of a human situation that bear on unhappiness--the tensing of a cheek muscle, the slight threadbareness of a sleeve, the brittleness of a laugh. What is sometimes vaguely referred to as "intuition" or "hunch" is, more precisely, the focusing of awareness on the material hints and expressions of poverty, ignorance, guilt, pain, confusion, weakness, of any form of human evil. Watching for these hints and observing others more adept at noticing them, we may improve and control our sensitive knowing powers for discerning and evaluating concrete situations of misery. But human misery is not something that can be sensed. It is an intelligible reality that must be understood and judged. A sharpened sensitivity to the material signs of misery will develop only with the growing realization of their meaningfulness in the lives of those we desire to help. In order to read the language of these signs, then, certain acts of intellectual understanding must concur with the functioning of the sensory powers. A mutual re-lationship exists here: by our intellect we comprehend the imeaning in the material image, and this understanding in turn is a guideline for our imaginative and estimative + ÷ ÷ VOLUME 22, 1962 285 + ÷ ÷ Sister Mary Celeste, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS powers to furnish and elaborate precisely those images which bear a meaning-content relevant to merciful ac-tion. How is facility for such intellectual acts acquired? It seems evident that there must be some serious and con-sistent meditation on the human goal of beatitude and on the nature of sin which is the chief obstacle to achiev-ing that goal. The object of mercy is hierarchized accord-ing to the goods which God loves in man and "desires" for him; hence, there must be true judgments about the relative value of various deficiencies in such goods. Sin is the supreme evil, and effective compassion for the sinner is the most merciful act. After this come the many ills concomitant with the sinfulness of man--injustice, preju-. dice, war, poverty, oppression. To judge of these evil~; clearly, a study of the social and behavioral science~ would seem at least highly desirable if not necessary. Complementary to these disciplines, the development of an appreciation for great literature will aid the sister in observing concrete instances of misery and its tragic ef-fect in human lives. In short, a truly liberal education with theology as its core ought to contribute much to tile degree in which the object of mercy is perceived. To keep the proper perspective, we must renew these judgments with conviction until they crystallize into our permanent outlook. But it is not only the object of mercy which must be judged; we ourselves must reflect on how we stand in relation to the action that we are doing. A realistic evaluation of our own position, motivated by concern for the one in need, must include the conviction that we likewise are immersed in the conditions of hu-manity and that therefore whatever good we are able to communicate to others is first a gift to us. The lack of this conviction is pride; and the vice of pride is a direct ob-stacle to the practice of mercy. The proud are without mercy, St. Thomas tells us, because they despise others and think them deserving of the sufferings they have to undergoA~ John Kuskin has stated well the kind of self-judgment that a merciful person makes: I believe that the test of a truly great person is humility. I do not mean by humility doubts about his own ability. But really great men-have a curious feeling that greatness is not in them but through them and they . see something divine in every other man and are endlessly, foolishly, and ~ncred~bly merciful. Sensitivity to Suffering Though perception of misery is the first requisite of the act of mercy, its essence is in the affective response to misery. For the clarity of perception itself depends basi- Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, a.2 ad 3. cally upon the concern we have for aiding another. Now concern for another is a matter of love. Human love, like human knowledge, is a unified act engaging the whole person, spiritual and physical. To love someone humanly, it is natural that our feelings should concur with our willing of his good However, there is an initial difficulty in the matter responding to unhappiness: the first impulse in the face of misery is to shun it, for we are naturally attracted to what is pleasant and try to avoid what is evil. Do the sen-sitive appetites, then, have any part in the act of mercy? First of all, we may note that the perception of someone else's misery may provoke one of two contrary attitudes in us. There may be a detached unconcern for an evil that in no way affects us at present, together with the hope that the unpleasantness of seeing another suffer will be quickly removed and forgotten. On the other hand, there may be a reaction of sympathy, a feeling of sorrow for the distressed person. This latter movement"of the sensitive appetite is the act of pity.1~ Now considered on the sensitive level alone, an act is neither virtuous nor morally bad because it is not yet a human act. Can we say, then, that it does not matter which attitude a person has, as long as he is influenced by spiritual love? And further: might it not be better to remain, as far as pos-sible, emotionally uninvolved? If we let our feelings run away with us, there is danger that' sentimentality will govern our actions; and this is not a good. To answer the question of the role of sensitivity in mercy, we may first point out a negative aspect. The dangers of sentimentality should not be minimized; there is a definite risk taken. There is a kind of undesirable emotional involvement which consists in identifying one-self with the patient or one in need to the extent that his anxiety, confusion, and helplessness are communicated to us instead of being relieved by us. This would be equiv-alent to becoming a beggar in order .to .help beggars, and thereby cutting off the very possibility of saving anyone from the misery of beggarhood. Because of warnings about such risks, young religious sometimes fear to admit to themselves that they do feel grief or anxiety for others, that they are really affected by seeing suffering and pov-erty. It would be helpful, when such is the case, to reflect on the consequences of this outlook. Fear of danger leads naturally to avoidance of the dangerous occasion. In this instance, the sister may unconsciously tend to avoid those situations which arouse her feelings of pity, and in so doing is avoiding the very misery toward which mercy is 1~ Sum~na Theologiae, 1-2, q.35, a.8. ÷ ÷ ÷ Mer~y VOLUME 22, 196~ 287 ÷ ÷ ÷ Si~ter Mary Celeste, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS directed. This obviously is not the way to develop the virtue of mercy. A further reflection on the conditions sentimentality would help to alleviate her fears. For pity will never degenerate into sentimentality when its exer-cise is buttressed with the clarity of intellectual vision and intensity of spiritual love required by an act of true mercy. Emotional involvement with those in misery, when incorporated into this virtuous (and hence, controlled) act, will never cause a loss of interior peace, patience, and trust in divine Providence. From the positive point of view, sensitivity to suffering of others should be regarded as a real asset, integral to the practice of mercy. St. Augustine says that mercy is heartfelt sympathy for another's distress, impelling us help him if we can.15 The Latin word for mercy, miseri-cordia, denotes sorrow of heart (miserura cordis) or com-passion for the unhappiness of another as though it were one's own.1. Of course, temperamental dispositions differ and solne persons are more sensibly affected than others; but the emotion of sorrow is a universally human one, and to some extent every human person feels it. Being moved with sorrow for another, we are more likely to do an act of mercy for him. Freely to take on sorrow for a misery that is not our own, to let ourselves be hurt when this is not a necessity, requires a special habit to strengthen our natural sen.,;tendency to fear and reject evil. The virtue of forti-tude is this habit, enabling us to face and accept the diffi-culties of personally assuming the suffering involved compassionate response to misery. This virtue is at the same time a guarantee against sentimentality and a bul-wark to fortify us throughout the consequent difficulties of carrying mercy into practical action. Courage to sympathize, to co-suffer with the unhappy, results also in a keener insight into the depth of misery. One's personal experience of vicarious suffering is the basis for a connatural knowledge which cannot be had on a purely speculative level. No matter how much we contemplate the social conditions of poverty and the par-ticular details of this family's wretched plight, we cannot really know what their misery is unless it affects us in our whole being: unless our judgment is swayed by a concern that is at once a willed and a felt love. In order to under-stand how the redeeming love of God works providen-tially in the "crooked lines" of evils in the human con-dition, we must feel ourselves within this condition. An habitual sensitivity to the suffering of others, habit of pity, is therefore an integral part of the total St. Augustine, De Civitate Dei 9.5. Summa Theologiae, I, q.21, a.3; 1-2, q.35, a.8; 2-2, q.30, a.l. pattern of mercy because the feeling of compassion is al-ready the directing of the sensitive appetites toward the object of mercy.1~ While not itself a virtue in the com-plete sense, pity contributes the "matter" as it were of the total response, being given its "form" or determining specification as virtue by the complementary tendency of merciful love in the will. Because of the dynamic influ-ence of this love, channeled and controlled by right judg-ment, the emotion of pity as a fully human response is truly virtuousJs It gives an intensity to the impulse of mercy to relieve the distress so keenly felt. Charity: the Source ol Mercy Formally and essentially, the act of mercy is a special kind of willed love. Whatever may be the absence or presence, the strength or weakness of supporting habits and virtues in other powers, the absolute requirement for mercy is the free and deliberate choice to love another who is in need. We make this choice as the radical orien-tation of our lives in accepting a religious vocation to an institute whose commission from the Church is to carry out her works of mercy. Thereby we accept the solemn obligation to reinforce by repeated acts what is implicit in this orientation: that is, to develop the habitual facility or virtue for good and effective action most properly be-longing to such an institute. What kind of love is the essence of mercy? In the first instance, this love must be benevolence: a willing of good for the sake of the person about whom we are concerned. It must be completely other-directed, outgoing. Religious are greatly aided in developing unselfishness in love by the numerous opportunities in community living to show thoughtfulness and consideration for others. The mani-festations of such concern are by no means of merely pe-ripheral importance, for a deficiency in love is a defi-ciency in the essence of mercy. Even on the sensitive level, pity is directed not to oneself but to another,a9 A selfish act is a disordered love-choice not only different from but contradictory to the choice of loving mercifully. There-fore, any habitual selfishness, no matter how slight it is or how trivial its object, will be a direct obstacle to de-veloping the virtue of mercy. The subjective aspect of benevolence--that is, true de-sire of good for another--must be complemented by its objective counterpart: desire for another of what is truly 1*St. Thomas notes that the reason why God forbad cruelty to animals in the Old Testament was that even pity for the suffering of animals makes a man better disposed to take pity on his fellow man. Summa Theologiae, I-2, q.102, a.6 ad 8. XSSumma Theologiae, 1-2, q.59, a.l ad 3; 2-2, q.$0, a.$. ~ Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, a.l ad 2. 4. + 4. VOLUME 22, 196~ 289 ÷ ÷ Sister Mary ~eleste, $3tL REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS good. Ultimately, the true good of man is his perfect hap-piness in union with God. When we desire that a person have what is needed for this, our benevolence toward him is charity. It should be remembered that the dual precept of charity in no way detracts from its nature as a single virtue; by charity, God is loved both as supreme good in Himself and as the goal of human striving. Thus when we love another in charity, we desire for him the beati-tude toward which we also aim. The attainment of this common goal, uniting us in a social bond as fellow viatores, is hindered by our misery. Therefore, if we love God and desire that all men be united with Him, our charity will (as nearly as this is possible) be a love patterned on His. We will not seek in others what we lack and not merely respond to a goodness in others which we find there. Rather, out of the abun-dance of love, we will be able to confer on others a good-ness which we do not find, which we ourselves only hold as a gift in the first place. We will aim to relieve their misery. This is Christian love. If Christianity has been a civilizing influence in the world, it is because, as Da-ni~ lou writes, civilization is "a state of human life in which individual man is accorded his due of respect and love, being loved the more in proportion as he may be defenseless, lonely, or unlucky.''20 Since charity is the essence of Christian perfection, it is afortiori the virtue par excellence of the religious who is bound by vow to strive for Christian perfection. In the religious state, the vows are means to this goal. The pur-pose of poverty is to free one's love from attachment: to material things, for our finite human affections cannot be fully concentrated on God if they are tied down. by many physical concerns. Charity is also hindered by an excessive craving for pleasures of the flesh which prevent the development of spiritual love. Chastity does not stamp out or distort the humanness of love but univer-salizes it so that the concern of the heart may extend to all persons. Charity is hindered most of all by the in-ordinate willing of one's own independence. Obedience especially makes the sister a sharer in community effort which is part of the Church's mission of mercy i'n the world. Thus the specific way in which charity is de-veloped in a religious is intrinsically influenced by the spirit and virtue of poverty, chastity, and obedience as directly oriented to the perfecting of spiritual love: The immediate effect of charity as the benevolent love by which we desire for others their happiness in union with God is our own bond of union with them, a special and personal kind of belonging. "It is the nature of di- Jean Dani~lou, Lord oI History (Chicago: Regnery, 1958), p. 66. vine charity," St. Thomas writes, "that he who loves in this way should belong not to himself but to the one loved.''zl In belonging to another, we take on vicariously whatever is his lot, suffering included. We feel it our-selves even though the misery is'not radically our own.m Thus God Himself is said~to pity us because of His love by which He regards us as belonging to Him33 This note of belonging to the one loved may be re-garded from another aspect also. We see that the virtue of charity is perfected in three "dimensions." First, its extent must be universal, including all persons.destined for beatific union with God. Secondly, its intensity is measured by the hardships one is willing to endure for the sake of those loved, even to the point of laying down one's life. Finally, its effects are seen in the gifts of good-ness bestowed: not only in material things, not only in spiritual benefits, but even in the total personal dedica-tion of oneself.~4 Pondering this last "dimension" of charity, we recall that human love is humanly symbolized in gift-giving. The extent and intensity of love is externally shown by the value of the gift bestowed. There are degrees in the alms of mercy just as in any gift, for mercy is always freely given love, Ministering to the physical needs of another is the first and most evident degree, siv.ce man cannot fittingly strive for spiritual goals if he does not have what is needed materially for a decent human life. On a higher level, there are spiritual benefits which do not exceed the natural human capacity for giving: for instance, the com-munication of truth reached by human insight and evi-dence. But of more value still are those goods which are truly supernatural, such as divinely revealed truth or the grace of the sacraments. One who bestows on others gifts of this kind practices a singular perfection of brotherly love, for it is directly by means of these gifts that man at-tains union with God.2" A gift, however, remains but a symbol. That which is signified is the interior disposition of love which is in the person the motivating source from which his action flows. The true worth of a gift can only be judged by the extent to which the giver's love has been concretized in the per-sonal act of donation. The more fully the whole person must be involved in this act, the more apt this particular kind of action is for expressing an intense and universal love. Now the works of mercy not only give scope for a De Perlectione Yitae Spiritualis, c.lO. Summa Theologiae, 9-2, q210, a.2. Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, a.2 ad 1. Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.18,1, a.2 ad 8. De Per]ectione Yitae Spiritualis, c.14. ÷ ÷ ÷ Mercy VOLUME 22~ 196.~ 291 4. 4. 4. Sister Mary Celeste, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 292 complete engagement of the giver, but when they really spring from charity they absolutely require this total dedication. For merciful love is redemptive. It means taking on the misery of another in order to heal and strengthen and lift up; and this can only be accomplished by the involvement of one's whole being and energy. For a woman, this total personal dedication to serving the needs of another is the fulfillment of her essential role as mother. In the apostolate, it is a maternal love which inspires the sister to reach out with compassion to all who, like the child, need care and protection. She sees not only the poor, the sick, and the aged as represented by the child, but all those who are ill in mind and heart, those who are poor in the goods of the spirit. Her work of the fulfillment of professional duties is a form of spirit-ual motherhood. By this very fact, her mission in the Church is closely associated with an essential quality of the Church herself. It must be the vocation of the reli-gious woman to impart to others something of the uni-versal healing compassion of Christ, effecting a true nur-turing and growth of human life Godward. Prudence Directs Merciful Action The love-inspired insight of a mother detects the weak-ness of her child and knows instinctively what is the best thing to do. This connatural knowledge has its exact parallel in the act of mercy, the impulse to action in which there is a giving of one's whole self. Knowledge of the most effective action in a concrete case cannot be a matter of intellectual understanding alone when this knowledge is based on an intense concern for the welfare of the person for whom the action is being done. Judg-ment about such action must be governed by the habit of prudence. Thus the life of one engaged in works of mercy requires that prudence be the directive intellectual habit. This virtue is further perfected by that docility to the motion of the Holy Spirit which is called the gift of counsel.2e For this reason, St. Thomas states that the beatitude of mercy specially corresponds to the gift of counsel, the gift which directs the act of mercy.~7 The concrete circumstances of human misery are sub-ject to changing conditions; but the principles applied in the variety of instances do not themselves change. Mer-ciful action is always a means to bring about human hap-piness; the choice of a best means to achieve a goal is always the concern of prudence. The prudent person is equipped to know what should be done in the concrete so that his decision and effort are suited to the needs of Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.52, a.2. Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.52, a.4. the kingdom of God. Thus the prudential judgment nec-essary in the act of mercy must take into account both the needs of the recipient and the potentialities of the donor. Although spiritual alms are of more value objec-tively, it is sometimes a greater immediate need to relieve physical distress; "to a hungry man, food is more neces-sary than instruction in truth.''2s Since our humanness limits the amount of good we can do, St. Augustine coun-sels us to consider those who are nearer to us in time, place, or other accidental condition as the first recipients of our mercy.29 If the act of mercy is not merely hap-hazard, if it springs from the virtue of mercy, it must, then, be directed by prudence. Unity of the Virtues Related to Mercy Among the great variety of circumstances in which misery appears and within the myriad personalities who are called to a special dedication for responding to mod-ern needs, the stabilizing influence of a common spirit is to be found in the basic structure of virtues and habits within which this spirit is translated into action. The master-virtue of mercy has a characteristic pattern simple in its essentials yet comprising all the human powers in total personal engagement. First, because an act of mercy is concerned with con-crete human misery, the initial perception of the situa-tion will be a unified act including both sensory aware-ness of physical detail and intellectual understanding of the meaning-content incarnated in this detail: that is, its relevance to human happiness. Thus the merciful person will notice, will habitually listen and see, use imagination and memory to retain and supply impressions that help this awareness. She will use her estimative power under the control of reason to evaluate in each particular case a lack of what is befitting the dignity of man. She must be able to judge the social evils of the contemporary world with an adequate comprehension of what they imply for human living. Finally, she must be able to see herself as an instrument, a steward entrusted with a gift which is to be transmitted to others; this is her humility. In other words, all her human knowing powers are operative in the perception of what is relevant to unhappiness. Secondly, because an act of mercy is essentially an out-going response to a real situation, the merciful sister acts by the dynamic tendency of her appetitive powers. These will include a sensitivity to suffering that is called pity, a willingness to accept difficulties and to suffer for another that is called courage, and that benevolent love which in Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.32, a.3. St. Augustine, De Doctrina Christiana 1.28. ÷ ÷ ÷ Mercy VOLUME 22, 1963 293 Sister Mary Celeste, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 294 the supernatural order is called charity. Just as human nature is a body-spirit unity, and just as human knowl-edge is the perception of meaning in the material sign, so too there is a parallel in the appetitive order. The uni-fied act of sorrow for another's unhappiness, the interior act of mercy, is the spiritual love of charity incarnated and expressed in the feeling of compassion. Although supernatural in its cause, charity, mercy is thoroughly hu. man in its mode of operation. Thirdly, there is a kind of reflective moment of both knowledge and love in the act of mercy. Encountering someone in misery, a merciful person experiences a deeper level of awareness by reason of the dynamic orientation of pity and love. This is what St. Thomas calls a knowl-edge of connaturality. In the light of her love which unites her by sympathy to another, the. sister who is mer-ciful can perceive meaning in details which would pass unnoticed by a detached onlooker. This perception in turn strengthens the driving forces of sensitive pity and willed love, impelling her to judge prudently the action that is most effective and committing her to carry out this action courageously without regard to inconvenience or pain. In mercy, therefore, there is required a totality of personal dedication to serving one's neighbor in order that he may together with us come to beatific union with God. Finally, the charity-love by which we will this goal not only the source from which mercy flows forth but is the unifying principle of every virtue and subordinate habit related to mercy. The ultimate goal of man is beati-tude, union with God. It is this goal which mercy, by re-lieving unhappiness, aims to procure. The goals of other virtues and habits are only proximate and intermediate ones which can be subordinated to this primary human end. So charity, qualifying the will, permeates all activity under the influence of the will--all free actions, just as life permeates the whole living organism in all its parts. In a body, all the particular members and organs func-tion for the good of the whole; so in a life of charity, all particular activity is directed toward the supreme good of the whole which is man's union with God.~0 Every virtue and every habit of a merciful person are drawn into the powerful stream of this love. "If a man is merciful," writes St. Gregory of Nyss;,, "he is deemed worthy of divine beatitude, because he has at-tained to that which characterizes the divine nature. Thus is the merciful man called blessed, because the fruit of mercy becomes itself the possession of the merciful.''zx Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.23, a.8; De Caritate, a.3. ~lSt. Gregory o£ Nyssa, The Beatitudes, translated ~rorn PL Mercy is most properly a divine attribute, manifesting the power and goodness of God's redemptive love.82 As source of the exterior works of mercy done by human hands, this virtue likens us to God in similarity of works and is the highest perfection of the active life.s3 As an interior effect of divine charity,.in us, companion of joy and peace and zeal, it is the greatest Of virtues which re-late to our neighbor,a4 Its effectiveness will end only when there is no further human misery left to cry out for heal-ing. 44:1193-1302 by Hilda Graef, "Ancient Christian Writers Series" (Westminster: Newman, 1954), p. 139. ~ Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, aA. ~Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, aA ad 3. ~ Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, a.4 ad 3. VOLUME 22~ 1963 ALAN F. GREENWALD Psychological Assessment of Religious Aspirants 4. 4" Alan F. Green-wald is director of psychological serv-ices for the Seton Psychiatric Insti-tute, 6420 Reisters-town Road, Balti-more 15, Maryland. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Psychological testing has become increasingly more useful in the selection of suitable candidates for religious life and in the recognition of emotional illness among seminarians prior to ordination. A growing number of seminaries and religious communities are utilizing psy-chological services to assist superiors and seminary direc-tors in arriving at decisions about the psychological suit-ability of prospective candidates for the priesthood. In view of the desirability of a close working relationship between the psychologist and the clergy, it seems advan-tageous to review briefly the methods, strengths, and weaknesses of psychological assessment procedures as they apply to the screening of applicants for religious life. The two extremes--exceptionally well-qualified extremely poor prospects--may be identified easily within the seminary with or without benefit of formal psycho-logical testing. It is the seminarian who is making a mar-ginal adjustment--just "getting by" academically, with-drawn from others, quarrelsome, experiencing difficulties in attention, concentration, or ability to study, yet still able to conform to established minimum standards of conduct--whose symptoms are less flagrant and whose future is far less predictable. These divergent behavior patterns may represent only a transitory disturbance or they could be the forerunner of a more serious mental dis-order. In either case the psychological referral will help to clarify the situation. The psychological suitability of a candidate for the priesthood is not a black and white issue. Rarely, except perhaps in the extreme cases where a young man presents a remarkable array of talents or on the other hand dem-onstrates bizarre, pathological behavior, can a simpl~ de-termination of "suitable" or "unsuitable" be made. The human personality is too complex to permit such a casual oversimplification. Rather, it is necessary to evaluate a broad spectrum of behavior in order to identify con-vergent drives and patterns as well as divergent attitudes and reactions. The primary question usually asked of the psychologist by the seminary is, "What can :you tell us about the psychological suitability of this seminarian for the priesthood?" In response to this question;,the~psychol-ogist seeks to determine the personality assets as well as the nature and degree of any emotional disturbance which may exist. The psychologist learns early that there are no accepta-ble "canned" or cookbook interpretations of behavior, no universals in test analysis, and a notable lack of .un-equivocal prognostic signs today. No test is infallible, and as yet we have not developed the test which can predict with great accuracy how an individual will behave in complex situations. To use less than the most compre-hensive and sensitive instruments available for personal-ity assessment would be a disservice to all concerned. Con-sidering the present state of the art, there still remains honest disagreement as to what constitutes the most valid test battery. But most clinicians favor the projective tech-niques. Projective techniques provide subtle, indirect methods of personality assessment which permit the subject to re-veal his basic pattern of thinking, feeling, and behaving. Because these relatively unstructured tests are less subject to conscious and unconscious distortion and permit greater freedom of expression within a standardized framework, projective techniques such as the Rorschach Inkblot Test, Thematic Apperception Test, Draw a Per-son Test, and Sentence Completion Test are generally preferred to the paper and pencil personality question-naires, for example, the Minnesota Multiphasic Person-ality Inventory. However, Bier,1 Vaughan,2 and others have used the MMPI extensively and developed norms for use in screening seminarians. While it is true that paper and pencil questionnaires have the advantage of ease in administration and scoring and provide quantitative measures of personality charac-teristics, the additional behavioral information elicited by a projective test battery would seem to merit the in-creased expenditure, of professional time and effort. Many 1 W. C. Bier and A. A. Schneiders, eds., Selected Papers [rom the American Catholic Psychological dssociation Meetings of 1957, 1958, 1959 (New York: Fordham University, 1960). W. C. Bier, "Test-ing Procedures and Their Value," Proceedings o] the 1959 Sisters' Institute of Spirituality (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame, 1960), pp. 263-95. W. C. Bier, Description o! Biers Modified MMP1 (Mimeographed; New York: Fordham University, no date). ~ R. P. Vaughan, "Specificity in Program of Psychological Exam-ination," Guild o[ Catholic Psychiatrists Bulletin, v. 8 (1961), pp. 149-55. 4. Psychological Assessment VOLUME 22, 1963 297 Alan l:. G~een~ald REVIEW FOR REL[G]OUS investigators prefer the neat quantitative personality pro-file which the MMPI yields, but too often we find in the behavioral sciences a tendency to follow our sister sciences in attempting to reduce subject matter to numbers and statistics. Behavior does not lend itself readily to this treatment. Even with projective techniques there are ob-jective signs which, unhappily, fail to describe adequately the person they represent. The goal of a psychological screening program is to provide an accurate, reliable pic-ture of the person and not to reduce him to a mass of in-teresting or perhaps not-so-interesting statistics. Many significant test results are qualitative rather than quantitative in nature. Through projective testing, we are able to detect an unwholesome or conflictual, motiva-tion for religious life as well as underlying problems which may interfere with the seminarian's future adjust-ment. Test evidence which relates to motivation, causa-tion, and purposefulness of behavior can prove invaluable in revealing potential difficulties which a seminarian may encounter in his pursuit of a religious vocation. A reli-gious aspirant who demonstrates human sensitivity, strong drive toward achievement, and a desire to serve mankind has significantly different and healthier motiva.- tion than another whose entry into the seminary provides a means of escape from a world perceived as cold, hostile, and threatening to him. Bowes,3 in evaluating nearly 7000 seminarians, has found these major problem areas in order of frequency: (1) purity, (2) interpersonal relationships, (3) scrupulos-ity, (4) mother fixation, (5) obsessive compulsive person-ality, (6) depression, and (7) affective disorders. Becat, se most of these problems do not exist at the level of con-scious awareness, they may go undetected until they g~:n-erate enough anxiety to produce feelings of personal dis-tress and interfere with the person's ,capacity for work and his ability to meet the demands of reality. Often psy-chological testing may detect the presence of abnormal drives or conflicting motives and permit the seminarian to work through the conflict with the assistance of his spiritual director prior to ordination. Psychiatric aid may be rendered when indicated. This coordination of reli-gious and professional services can lead ultimately to a lower incidence of mental illness among the clergy. The use of psychological test procedures with religious introduces the need for specialized handling and inter-pretation. In order for any test results to be meaningful, they must be correlated with the activities, values, and * N. T. Bowes, "Professional Evaluation of Aspirants to Religious Life," a paper delivered in a seminar conducted at St. Mary':~ Semi-nary; Roland Park; Baltimore, Maryland in April, 1962. demands imposed upon the individual by his way of life. One hardly expects to find the same mental mechanisms and hierarchy of needs and values existing in a group of combat marines and in a group of seminarians. Similarly, as Vaughan indicates, all religious cannot be stereotyped and regarded as one. Different orders and assignments within the Church make special demands--intellectual and/or emotional--upon their members, so that prereq-uisites for a Jesuit university professor may differ from those of a Trappist monk. One personality may be better suited for the active, another for the contemplative life. Thus, notwithstanding the elimination of persons with severe emotional illness from the seminary, one needs to understand the circumstances and particular environ-ment in which the candidate will function in order to offer the most intelligent clinical judgment of his over-all suitability. A clear need remains for the development of psychological test norms applicable to candidates for re-ligious life. The experienced clinical psychologist approaches his task with humility, recognizing both the strengths and limitations of his tools. It behooves those who utilize his services to develop a set of realistic expectations in order to derive the maximum benefit from the referral. A word of caution seems in order to avoid overreliance by superiors on test results without giving due weight to traditional methods of selecting religious candidates. The decision regarding a religious vocation should never be made on the basis of test findings alone. The psychologi-cal test should be regarded as a supplementary source of information rather than as a replacement for existing practices. Psychological tests are being applied more widely in the evaluation of religious aspirants. Although no tests are infallible, projective techniques have demonstrated their effectiveness in the study of personality and in de-termining within limits the psychological suitability of persons seeking a religious vocation. Early detection and disposition of seminarians making a marginal adjustment can help to avoid subsequent major disturbances. Psy-chological assessment can be a useful supplement to tra-ditional selection procedures, but there is a need for behavioral scientists to develop a more definitive psycho-logical concept of, as well as test norms for, those aspiring to religious life. ÷ ÷ ÷ Psychological Assessment VOLUME. 22# 1963 299 SISTER M. DIGNA, O.S.B. Uses of Information in a Screening Program ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Digna, O.S.B., is a faculty member of the Col-lege of St. Scholas-tica, Duluth 11, Minnesota. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 300 Psychologists, psychiatrists, and psychometricians, as well as others, subscribe to the assumption that objective information about a candidate's fitness for the priesthood or religious life may be assessed by valid and reliable in. struments in terms of intelligence, personality, and inter-ests. Following the principle that a good, valid test serves as a Geiger counter in detecting intellectual and person-ality assets and liabilities, the Sisters of St. Benedict have utilized test findings for over the past ten years. Having found that a correlation does exist between test data and subsequent religious adjustment, the policy has been initiated of administering the tests prior to admission. ~ln some cases, considerable time, effort, and expense have been saved by a wise use of this information. All favorable findings are referred to a Catholic psychiatrist for further consultation and confirmation. If there is doubt, the in-dividual is given an opportunity to "try religious life." The first type of assessment is that of the applicant's intelligence. Here intelligence is considered from a purely operational viewpoint. The empirical fact is that some people show higher abilities than others. Measurement is an attempt to objectify cognition (intelligence) by eval-uating sensory acuity, perception, memory, reaction-time, and reasoning. Originally the testing program included two scores of mental ability, one based upon the Ameri-can Council Psychological Examination and the other on the Otis Self-Administering Test. The reasons for select. ing these two tests were the availability of the ACE and the ease of administering and interpreting the Otis. Completion of high school has been a basic require-ment for admission into the community. All the sisters at one time or another matriculate at the local college. Since the ACE scores are recorded in the registrar's office, they are accessible for use. However, the ACE scores are not too meaningful in determining the kind of intelligence the individual possesses. For this reason candidates were ranked percentage-wise among all other high school sen-iors or college freshmen tested and placed in the top fourth, lower fourth, and so on. Furthermore, the ACE is highly weighted with verbal factors so that the picture is not too complete. Then too, novice and candidate mis-tresses found difficulty in interpreting 224/81 or still more confusing 127/13. The Otis intelligence quotient was, therefore, a more satisfactory measurement. During the last five years the California Short Form Test of Mental Maturity has been used. This test yields information on total mental factors, language factors, non-language factors, spatial relationships, logical reason-ing, numerical reasoning, verbal concepts, average grade placement, mental age, and intelligence quotient. The following examples illustrate the use of the Cali-fornia Short Form Test of Mental Maturity. Applicant A was a young woman who applied at several communities. Because her educational background was limited to the eighth grade of a small country school, she was rejected. At the time she made contact with the local community, she was working as a domestic in a private home and had taken her vacation to make the lay women's retreat. She was advised to reapply and took the tests with other ap-plicants. The summary data scores indicated that the young woman had intelligence quotient scores in terms of total mental factors of 138, language factors of 141, and non-language factors of 129. Her intelligence grade place-ment was at the 90th percentile for total mental factors and language factors, and at the 60th for non-language factors using the norms for college graduates. The per-centile ranks at her chronological age (C.A.) were 80 for spatial relations, 99 for logical reasoning, 95 for numeri-cal reasoning, 99 for total verbal concepts, and 95 for non-language factors. The young woman was accepted. In one year as a postulant she easily completed two years of a collegiate preparatory program. At the end of her novi-tiate she completed two more years of high school and did very well in college. Her average was A minus or B plus. She is gentle, refined, humble, and modest, but above all deeply spiritual. Surely it is a courtesy to God to recog-nize and utilize His gifts to such a girl. The results of the California Test of Mental Maturity were important factors in the rejection of two applicants, B and C. The intelligence quotients obtained by appli-cant B were 86 for mental factors, 106 for language fac-tors, and 66 for non-language factors. Applicant C's in-telligence quotient, measured in terms of these three factors, were 82 for mental factors, 97 for language fac-÷ ÷ ÷ Screening Program VOLUME 22, 1963 $1~t~ M. Digna REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 302 tors, and 64 for non-language factors. Although the pre-diction of subsequent adjustment in religious life was not too promising on the basis of these scores, the applicants were not rejected merely on this basis. These scores led to a more thorough investigation of their backgrounds. As a result, the mother prioress felt that the applicants were not intellectually equipped to meet the demands of a community that stressed teaching and nursing as an ex-pression of its apostolate. Although information regarding intelligence is very important, the submerged four-fifths of one's personality is just as important as a predictive factor in adjustment to religious life. Originally, the Minnesota Personality Scale was used to discover problems with which the indi-vidual was confronted. This scale was helpful in deter-mining poor social adjustment, family conflicts, and emo-tional problems. Although the scale was structured, the evaluation results merely scratched the surface of the in-dividual's personality. According to Furst and Fricke (1956) a structured test is nonprojective in the sense that users can agree completely on the individual's score; they are projective in the sense that individuals can project personal meanings into the stimuli. Although very losv scores on the Minnesota Personality Scale were clues to more deep-seated troubles, most of the findings were of the obvious type. The Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory (MMPI) has proved a better instrument since the items, the interrelationships, and the scales all afford information stemming from feelings and emotions. I*: is often possible through careful item analyses to determine the root of emotional experience and to discover hidden attitudes and traits. Supplementing the use of the MMPI, Modified Form, are life histories, ratings from direct ob-servation, and introspective reporting. Because of the MMPI, the psychologist secures a deeper understanding of the individual's problems. The items are structured, and the interpretation from them is deter-mined a priori. For example, if the psychologist or psy-chiatrist wishes to discover whether a person has phobias, he asks questions relating to the individual's fear of snakes, crowds, high places, and so forth. One criterion of phobias is a morbid, exaggerated, pathological fear of some object or situation. The basic assumption is that an individual who has many fears will answer questions per-taining to objects and situations of which the individual is afraid, and he will admit these fears. The test items of the MMPI have to be assembled into scales based upon the principle that the psychologist building the test has sufficient insights into the dynamics of verbal behavior and its relation to the inner core or personality that he is able to predict beforehand what certain sorts of people will say about themselves when asked certain types of questions. Structured personality tests may be employed in a purely diagnostic, categorizing fashion without the use of any dynamic interpretation of the relationship among scales or the patterning of a pro-file. The discrete scores on.': the' Minnesota Personality Scale are an example. The MMPI makes possible more "depth" interpreta-tion. On the basis of the MMPI and other information, some applicants have been rejected. As a typical example, the profile for applicant D demonstrates the use of the results of a personality inventory as a clue to possible poor adjustment to religious life. Although her intelligence quotient scores were average, applicant D presented a poor personality profile. She had two high triads (pairs of threes) above the normal range (30 to 70). Six of the nine scales for this profile ranged from T-scores of~71 to 108. The F score was high. According to Welsh and Dahl-strom (1956), high F scores tend to invalidate the sub-ject's responses. A schizoid may obtain a high F score owing to delusional or other aberrant mental state. The high score for the other scales represented such areas as hypochrondriasis, hysteria, psychopathic deviate, para-noia, schizophrenia, and hypomania. This young woman was not admitted but was counseled to see a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist to whom she was referred discovered that the applicant had previously been institutionalized. A recent follow-up revealed that she had returned to a mental institution. Applicant E was screened out because of her emotional pattern. This young girl was sixteen years old. Her in-telligence was average but her personality picture was not good. The young woman entered, was tested, and the test material with the following comments was filed in the mother prioress' office: This individual has high scores on the psychopathic deviate, masculinity, and psychasthenia scales. If she shows the follow-ing tendencies or traits it would be very wise to refer her to a psychiatrist: inability to profit from a mistake, attention-getting devices, concentrating on a younger girl in an objectionable manner, having so-called "crushes" on an older woman; any compulsive behavior like hand washing, phobias, fears, and anxieties, depression, worry, lack of confidence, and inability to concentrate. When the young woman began to manifest undesirable traits, her testing material was referred to for counseling purposes. Despite counseling, she fortunately left the community, but unfortunately has not sought psychiatric help. T-he care needed in interpreting test scores may be em-phasized by the responses of applicant F. This young ÷ ÷ ÷ Screening Program VOLUME 22, 1963 ÷ ÷ .÷ Sister M. Digna REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 304 women's profile was unreliable. Unknown to us, the ap-plicant had previously been in two communities. In tak-ing the test, with her high intelligence, test-wiseness, and general sophistication, she presented a pattern falling within the normal range. Fifteen items of the MMPI are designated subtle items because their psychological sig-nificance would not normally be detected by individuals taking the test. Applicant F was able to discern the im-plications of test items and answer them to put herself in a favorable light. This young woman had an opportunity to "try religious life." She received counseling before en-trance, after entrance, and for two years after leaving until she settled down to complete her third year of col-lege, receiving A's in courses she liked, F's and D's in those she didn't. She does not accept God's will in her rejection. Recently, the writer received a letter from a state institution where the young woman has been for the last several years. Applicant G has average intelligence, a fairly well de-fined primary interest pattern, but an unsatisfactory per-sonality pattern on the MMPI. This applicant was tested after entrance and advised to leave. In all cases of dis-missal, the applicants have an opportunity to see a Catho-lic psychiatrist. Through a knowledge of their fields of vocational interest and job placement services, these young women often make a better adjustment as a result of their brief experience in religion. It might be inferred from these data that applicants to religious life have low intelligence or are emotionally disturbed. However, concomitant with the screening out of these "atypical" cases, eighty-one applicants were rld-mitted into the community. In most cases these candi-dates were young women who desired to serve God aad whose intellectual and emotional patterns were not de-terrent factors. Of the eighty-one, six wavered and left. Four of the six have been re-admitted and are making ex-cellent adjustments. Having seen her strengths and weak-nesses, the candidate herself often feels reassured that she can give herself to God if she is generous enough to make the sacrifice and to depend upon His divine grace to assist her. Illustrative of a good profile is that of applicant H. The California Test of Mental Maturity, interpreted in terms of intelligence quotients and grade placement, are at; fol-lows: for mental factors, the intelligence quotient is 118, grade placement, 15.6; language factors, 131, grade place-ment, 70th percentile of students graduating from col-lege; and non-language factors, 105, grade placement, 12.5. Her MMPI falls within the normal range, and her Strong Interest Blank reveals a well-defined interest pat-tern. Her primary occupational interests are in elemen- tary teaching and office work, and her tertiary interests in business education and home economics. It might be wise to say a few words about the use of the Strong Vocational Interest Blank. There rare two forms, one for men and ond for wbmen. The test has been useful in helping the community identify.strong positive and negative interest patterns. About ninety per cent of the reli

Issue 19.5 of the Review for Religious, 1960. ; Review Reli, gious Change of Busine.ss Officel Prayer of Pope Clement XI Growth in the 'Particular Examen by Paul Fd,'. O'Brien, S.'.~. Spiritual C. on~e,rences by. Th~omas Dubay, . S, Mo prayer and Action by Columban Browning, C.P. La Sallian Prayer for Active Religious by Brother F. Joseph, F.S.C. Survey of Roman Documents Views, Newsl Previews Questions and A~swers Book Reviews O Z 258 m 269 279 294 300 30l 305 Change of Business Office ~ TER September 15, 1960, the business office of. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS will change its address to the following: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Business Office 428 E. Preston Street Baltimore 2, Maryland After the above date all matters referring to new subscriptions, renewals, or back copies should be sent to the new address. The editorial office of the REVIEW will remain at St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. Similarly the Question and Answer Department will remain at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland; and the Book Review Editor will continue at West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana. +257 Prayer of Pope Clement ×1 THE LATIN text of the following prayer attributed to Pope Clement XI is to be found in Acta Apostolicae Sedis,~ 52 (1960), 358-59. According to a decree of the Sacred Congre-gation of Rites issued on February 24, 1960 (AAS, p. 359), the Latin text of the prayer is to be inserted in all future editions of the Roman Missal as part of the thanksgiving prayers after Mass. Moreover, a decree of the Sacred Penitentiary of March 11, 1960 (AAS, p. 361), has attached an indulgence of five years when the prayer is recited devoutly and with contrite heart; furthermore once a month and under the usual conditions a plenary indulgence can be gained by those who have piously recited the prayer for a whole month. I believe, Lord, but let me believe more firmly; I hope, but let me hope more confidently; I love, but let me love more ardently; I sorrow, but let me sorrow more strongly. I adore You as my first principle; I desire You as my last end; I praise You as my everlasting benefactor; I invoke You as my kindly defender. Direct me by Your wisdom; surround me by Your justice; comfort me by Your mercy; protect me by Your power. Lord, I offer You my thoughts that they may be of You; my words that they may be about You; my deeds that they may be in accord with You; my sufferings that they may be for You. I desire whatever You desire; I desire it because You de-sire it; I desire it as You desire it; I desire it a~ long as You desire it. Lord, this is my prayer: May You enlighten my mind, in-flame my will, cleanse my heart, sanctify my soul. Let me weep for my past sins; let me repelI future tempta-tions; let me correct my evil inclinations; let me cultivate my proper virtues. 258 PRAYER OF POPE CLEMENT XI Give to me, good Lord, love of Youl hatred of myself, zeal for my neighbor, contempt of the world. Let me be eager to obey my superiors, to assist my in-feriors, to .be.attentive to my friends, and to spare my enemies. Let me conquer pleasure by austerity, greediness by gen-erosity, anger by mildness, tepidity by fervor. Make me prudent in judgment, steadfast in danger, patient in adversity, humble in prosperity. Grant, Lord, that I may be attentive in prayer, moderate in my sustenance, diligent in my work, firm in my decisions. .May I taIce care to possess interior innocence, exterior ¯ modesty, exemplary relationships, and an orderly life. "Let me be assiduous in controlling nature, fostering grace, keeping the law, and working out my salvation. Let me learn from You how fragile is the earthly, how great the .divine, how brief the temporal, how permanent the eternal. Grant that I may prepare for death, fear judgment, escape hell, and obtain paradise. Through Christ our Lord. Amen. 259 Growth in the Particular Examen Paul W. O'Brien, S. J. THROUGH the popularization of books on prayer and a more enlightened spiritual direction, most souls know that there is a growth in prayer and that this growth involves a sim-plification. They. know the answers, at least theoretically, when they find their meditation becoming difficult, when their soul seems to be "doing nothing," but when they cling in loving at-tention to their God vaguely perceived. They recognize this as the process of simplification and hence can keep their souls in peace. At about the same time they find that their particular ex-amen no longer "works" and has lost its interest. Something is wrong. The soul is disturbed. It has learned to grow in prayer; it has not learned to grow in its examen. Offhand one might suspect that the simplifying action of God would not be confined to but one phase of the spiritual life, my prayer. It ought to reach into all my dealings with God. It ought to influence the character of my examen-just as it ought to have some effect on the other aspects of my spiritual life. And so it does, and thereby creates the problem of my adjustment. It is this problem that will be dealt with here, my progressive adaptation to God's simplifying action. But it calls for a preliminary exposition of the particular examen. Unless I know the instrument I am using, I cannot correctly adjust it. There is question throughout of the Ignatian particular examen. Not that St. Ignatius invented it; he.didn't. It is as old as Christianity; even older, for we find it practised by pagan philosophers. The Greek and Latin fathers knew and rec-ommended it. The fathers of the desert made assiduous use of it. But if St. Ignatius did not invent it, he did put it in better order, insisted greatly on it, incorporated it organically into the spiritual life, and has been responsible in. great measure for its spread among religious and lay folk. The Reverend Paul W. O'Brien is stationed at Bellarmine College, P. O. Box 143, Baguio City, Philippine Islands. 26O PARTICULAR EXAMEN Purity of Heart or Purity of Conscience? It will help to clarify the ~ture of the particular examen if we consider how it differs from the general examen. At first sight the distinction seems rather obvious, implied in the very names. The general examen is general, and deals with all sins; the particular examen is particular, and deals with only one sin. In other words there is no difference except in the number of sins considered. However a glance at the text of the Exercises reveals a much more profound distinction. Not only do they differ in their purpose, but their sphere of action and method are also different. The general examen is the kind of examen one makes for confession ("to confess .better" as we read in .the Exercises); its purpose is to purify the soul, to work a reconciliation with God; its field of action is the realm of conscience; it considers thoughts, words, and deeds under the aspect of culpability; it aims at purity of conscience. The particular examen is quite different. It deals with the obstacles to perfection, to the perfect service of God. Its purpose is "to correct and amend." Its sphere of action consists of ill-ordered affections and inclinations.Even where the matter may coincide with that of the general examen, its viewpoint is different. The sins or defects are considered not so much under their aspect of culpability, as something to be forgiven;~ but rather under their aspect of disorder, as something to be righted. It aims at purity of heart and comes to what the" great spiritual writers (Lallement, Rigoleuc) recommend as the "guard of the heart." An Attitude of Vigilant Control When we come to consider the method, we find an even more essential difference. At first glance they seem so alike: both employ a period of examination twice a day, at noon and before retiring; at this time both follow practically the same process, for the particular examen is tacked on to the last four points of the general examen. But, here the likeness end~. Whereas the general examen is confined to these two periods and may be considered as an operation, an act, the particular examen extends over the whole day, and is primarily a state. of soul, an attitude of vigilant control. St. Ignatius tells us that "straightway on rising, the person must resolve to guard him- 261 PAUL W. O'BRIEN Review for Religious self with diligence." It is this attitude of watchfulness that sets the particular examen at almost opposite poles to the gen-eral examen. It is not merely a checking, of the mileage twice a day; it is the constant preoccupation of the driver of the car E to get it started, to see that there is enough gas, to keep it on the road. The particular examen stays with me at every moment of the trip. Hence the essence of the particular examen is in this watch-fullness, this state of soul, together with the double control at noon and night. Without the watchfulness, the control is use-less ; but without the control, the watchfulness is in great danger of evaporating or of resting idly in theoretical resolutions that never materialize. The "Realizer" The function of the particular examen in my life begins to be clearer. It is the instrument that insures the realization of my ideal. It brings my life out of the world of theory, of vague sentimentalism, and makes it° real, something that is actually lived. As long as my ideals, resolutions, remain in the intentional order, I get nowhere. They must be realized in my daily life, in the concrete individual acts that go to make up that life. And so the particular examen is the great "realizer" as it con-trols the actuation of my desires for perfection. It must go hand in hand. with my other spiritual exercises. It is in my meditation, my spiritual reading, my general examen that I outline my resolutions, determine what I have to do. But it is the particular examen that sees to it that I do it. Hence its primary importance in any realistic spiritual life. It is essential therefore that I get started as soon as I begin my day. This "getting started" involves two things: (1) knowing clearly what the .sub]ec$ of my particular examen is; (2) resolving to watch it carefully until the next period of control. If I am inclined to forget it, I should write it out clearly, or incorporate it in a prayer with the motives for choosing it, and then put it in my shoe or some place where I will find it as soon as I get up. It is useless to check at noon the mileage of a car that never got started. So I must get it started. Once. started, it must be kept moving, must be kept on the road. Here the role of watchfulness is essential. When I see 262 September, 1960 PARTICULAR EXAMEN the car begin to deviate, a quick look at God with an "I'm sorry, Lord," and I resolve anew to keep going straight. When I notice that I've begun to slow down as I daydream along the way, again a quick look of sorrow, and I resume my desired speed. The particular examen is the instrument of vigilant control. Esteemed by Saints It should be obvious why the saints esteemed this practise. It is difficult to conceive of a seriotis spiritual ]ire that does not either consciously or unconsciously make use of all the essential.elements of the particular examen. I desire God with all my heart. I want to serve Him perfectly. I look to see what hinders me in this service. I resolve to avoid it, and I keep checking to make sure that I am avoiding it. Thisis the particu-lar examen. Were I deliberately to omit any of these elements, one would not he judging rashly to doubt the sincerity of my purpose. And so we can understand why St. Ignatius, a great mystic, would practise the particular examen faithfully to the day of his death. We do not find strange the words of another great contemplative, St. Margaret Mary: "It seems to me that one of the best means for advancing in perfection is the use of the particular examen on the fault we have resolved to root out, and on the contrary virtue which we desire to acquire. We must mark our faults in a little book sO that we can impose on ourselves some penance for them at the end of the day" (The Letters of S~in~ M~rgare~ Mary Alacoque, translated by Clarence A. Herbst, S.J. [Chicago: Regnery, 1954], p. 93). We can understand why St. Ignatius insisted on the particular examen with two of his most famous and busiest sons, Fathers Lainez and Le Jay, when he sent them to the Council of Trent at the request of Pope Paul III to be the Pope's theologians. He gave them several pages of directives on how to conduct themselves at the Council, but for their personal lives only two counsels. One of these "was to be faithful to their particular examen. It is interesting to note how he describes this, marking out clearly what is essential in the practise. He tells them i "In. the morning resolve, and examine yourselves twice a day." So often we are tempted to confuse the essence, which is wholly interior, with some of the helps culled by St. Ignatius from the lives of the saints or learned from his own experience. These he gives 263 PAUL W. O'BRIEN Review far Religious us as "additions," to be used if they help and in so far as they help. He tells us that it has helped him and others to "lay one's hand on his breast repenting when he has fallen"--a simple action that makes our return to God more conscious and makes it easier to remember our falls. He also advises that we note our falls in a little book so as to control our progress. Some find that an equivalent effect can be attained without marking, by imposing a suitable penance in proportion to the falls. We know that St. Ignatius used to repair his failings with additional strokes of the discipline. Progressive Adaptation of the Subiect Once we have understood the nature of the particular examen--it is an instrument of vigilant control; and the method ~ that this vigilance, a state of soul, must begin with the first moment of the day and be continued throughout, while the control is exercised chiefly during the noon and night exa-men, we are in a pdsition to .take up the critical question of our growth in the particular examen. This will involve the constant adaptation of the subject and the mode of operation to a changing spiritual life. And here a word of caution. St. Ignatius, when giving us in the Exercises the "bare bones" of his method, intends it to be given to all types of souls. He will give it to those who have little talent, to those whose generosity is not up to par, to those who will be sent away as unfit for a long retreat, and at the same time .he will give it to a Xavier, a F.aber, to those "who desire .to profit in every possible way." Obviously he ex-pects it to be adapted. He himself indicates in the Exercises this adaptation, giving us clues on choosing the subject of the examen. In the "method" itself he proposes "sins and defects". In his first method of prayer, which is a meditated examen he indicates virtues ("The better to avoid these sins, let one re-solve and endeavor., to acquire the virtues contrary to them"). And during t~e whole time of the long retreat he in-dicates a subject that will thoroughly baffle one who has not grasped the essence of the examen. He asks the retreatant to make his examen on "~he rooting out of defects and negligences in the exercises or additions." Now these ten additions, to say nothing of the exercises, involve such varied acts as my last thought on retiring, my first thought in the morning, my posture 264 September, 1960 PARTICULAR EXAMEN in prayer, my silence during the day, my reading, the amount of light to be let into my room, and so on. How can these varied acts be the subject of a particular examen? What is particular about them? What unifies them? It is here I believe that we have the principle of adaptation. St. Ignatius realizes that the fruit of the retreat, the total love and service of God in all things, depends on keeping alive and active the "desire to profit in egery way possible." It is this desire for perfection that gives unity to the various minute prescriptions, which all center around this desire and are but so many means of actuat-ing and stimulating it. Centered Around My Dominant Attraction Note that though this desire for perfection is the driving force of the soul, it is not the subject of the particular examen. The tendency to the end is never the subject of the examen; it deals rather with the means, the concrete, individual acts by which I actuate and nourish this tendency. Thus for example I do not make my examen on union with God (which is the end), but rather.on the concrete acts by means of which I procure this union with God. Now though the particular examen may be directed toward any urgent need of the soul (as when the soul needs patience for a particularly trying situation), still normally it should be centered around the dominant attraction of the soul. This of course will vary from soul to soul, and even in the same soul, especially in the beginning when the dominant attraction may not yet be clearly defined. It is practically impossible to keep up interest, to keep all my powers alert and vigilant throughout the day, if the question at issue is only of secondary importance, For the particular examen to succeed, it must be of vital interest to me; it must be so selected that I can throw all the weight of my effort into keeping it, knowing.that in keeping it, I assure the critical point in my progress. Usually if my retreat resolu-tions have been intelligently made, the particular examen will aim at their execution. Hence the major lines of attack will probably revolve around prayer, fidelity to duty, self-denial, purity of intention and purity of affection, simply because these are the pivotal points of our spiritual life. Now as my spiritual life grows and changes, so the particu-lar examen must change. When the soul is plodding through the 265 PAUL W. O~BRIEN Review fo'r Religious early stages of its purification, when it finds a multitude of ill-ordered tendencies blocking its way to God, it is not surpris-ing that its examen will center on progressively ridding itself of these sins and defects. It is but co-operating with the dominant action of God. During this peribd the soul is usually practising discursive prayer, as it reasons its way through the motives of the spiritual life and bhilds itself, up for the struggle. The process of simplification has not yet set in, and hence it does not find this variety in its prayer and examen a burden. The examen fits it. Progress Through Simplification But as the soul becomes more purified, it finds the example of Jesus more attractive. Its orientation becomes more positive. There is a movement towards simplification. Does this mean that the soul has no more defects to correct? Not at all. The soul may never reach this state. It means only that now the dominant tendency of the soul has changed. It finds the piece-meal consideration of the virtues less attractive. It begins to find a unity to its life in a dominant attraction- some attitude of love, or abandonment, or conformity to God's will. It finds its life becoming less a series of disparate acts and more the progressive actuation of this dominant attraction, this loving sacrifice 5f itself to a God vaguely perceived. And the same grace that is simplifying its prayer, making it impossible to reason from one truth to~ another, is also at work simplifying its examen, drawing it to center around the dominant drive of its soul. During this period of its progress it is being drawn strongly towards the essence of perfection, the total renuncia-tion spoken of ,in the GOspel, towards the choice in love of the poverty and humiliations of Christ crucified. It is well here to call attention to several subjects of the particular examen recommended by St. Ignatius himself. Writ-ing to the Jesuit scholastics of Portugal. on June 1, 1551, he urges them to examine themselves on these two points: "They must exercise themselves in finding God in all things, whether they hold converse with someone, go for a walk, look about., in all that they do . " And secondly: "And they must offer frequently to God our Lord all their studies and works, taking care that they accept them out of love for Him, putting aside their likes and dislikes that they may serve His Majesty in something." 266 September, 1960 PARTICULAR EXAMEN One might wonder how such a positive examen could be marked. Two ways are suggested: I may determine in advance the times and places in which I should make these acts, for example, before each new duty, and then mark my failures. Or I may mark the number of positive acts unless the number is too large and the process becomes complicated. In this case it is better to mark the general tone of the period with. A, B, C. How often we come across a good soul that has mistaken the essence of the particular examen and assures you that he doesn't make any examen. And yet all the essential elements are there. I don't know whether the Little Flower intended the follow!ug to be her particular examen, but see if it doesn't ful-fill the definition : a watchful control over the dominant tendency of the soul--realized in conc.rete acts, for example, of sacri-fice, purity of intention, and purity of affection. She writes in her Autobiography: "But this love of mine, how to show it? Love needs to be proved by action. Well even a little child can s~atter flowers, to perfume the throne-room with their fra-grance; even a little child can sing, in its shrill treble, the great canticle of love. That shall be my life, to scatter flowers m to miss no single opportunity of making some small sacrifice, here by a smiling look, there by a kindly word, always doing the tiniest things right, and doing it for love" (°Autobiography of St. Thdr~se of Lisieux, translated by Ronald Knox [New York: Kenedy, 1958], p. 237). And when she fails? "Sometimes I miss the chance of making them, sacrifices that give me such peace of soul; but I don't lose heart. I just resign myself to the loss of One peaceful hour, and try to be more on my guard another time" (p. 299). Now I don't know whether St. Therese marked her failings (I suspect that she didn't), or whether she just tried to make innumerable acts of love; but in any case knowingly or unknowingly, she was furnishing all the essential elements of an authentic Ignatian examen: the watchful control over a dominant tendency of love, actuated in acts of sacrifice and devotion to her tiniest duties. Before the Holy and Loving God There is one other aspect of this simplification that must be touched on briefly. Not only does the subject of the examen vary, but likewise the mode of operation. In other words the type of one's pr.:yer is reflected in the way one makes his 267 PAUL W. O'BRIEN examen. When in the early stages of one's purification the prayer is more discursive, the soul is more likely to be taken up with itself, to be reasoning its way to sorrow and amendment, to proceed from knowledge of itself to knowledge of God. But as the soul advances and its prayer becomes more simple, it reaches out more intuitively for God, fixing its gaze on God rather than on self. Instead of looking at self with its defects and reasoning to God, it looks rather at God and sees self in His light. Under the gaze of such a God, holy and loving, it finds its faults more repugnant, its sorrow more intimate, its trust more filial. But its gaze remains fixed primarily on God. Its examen has now grown to the stature of its prayer. When we have understood this growth and simplification of our particular examen, many of its problems will be solved, but not all. As long as it remains that most effective instru-men for eliminating self from our lives, it will meet with opposition, and chiefly from ourselves. But for that very reason, we will cling to it until it guide us to the goal that has always been its aim m a perfect service of God in unselfish love. 268 Spiritual Conferences Thomas Dubay, S. M. BECAUSE the study on retreats presented in these pages several years ago (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 15 [1956], 3-10, 91-96, 128-34, 177-84, 253-62, 301-8) seems to have achieved a purpose both for retreatants and retreat masters alike, I have thought it advisable to write up another aspect of that study that has not yet been published. That aspect deals With the spiritual conference usually given to religious communities throughout the course of the year. The vast ma-jority (something over 99 %) of the 700 sisters who participated in our study are in favor of the spiritual conference, provided it is given by an interested and capable priest. We can no better express their collective endorsement of the institution than by a representative cross-section of their views: The greatest need on the missions is for regular spiritual conferences by religious . To me they seem always very inspiring and almost a necessity, especially when a load of work distracts . If the talks were "helpful, at least once a month-otherwise I see no point to them. ¯ . . Motherhouses are generally well taken care of in this regard. Sunday sermons, retreat Sunday conferences care for this matter well. On the missions at least one conference a month preferably on retreat Sunday would be a real blessing. Listening to parish sermons frequently does little good for religious in their own spiritual life . If we are to know and love our Lord we cannot hear too much about Him . Once a week would be wonderful. We need much spiritual (food) and do not always have it. It is really uplifting to listen to a spiritual talk when one's soul and heart crave for it. We miss it especially here at . One Father comes once a month and he is always welcome. His talks are. most helpful and uplifting. Too bad he cannot come oftener. The sisters were not lacking in reasons for their welcoming of the well-prepared spiritual conference. Typical of those reasons are the following: We spend so much time "being busy about many things," it would be well to take time out-about one-half hour-for a little spiritual refresh: ment, encouragement and exhortation . These are very helpful insofar as they keep all the religious closer together in striving toward their The Reverend Thomas Dubay is stationed at Notre Dame Seminary, 2901 S. Carrollton Avenue, New Orleans 18, Louisiana. 269 THOMAS DUBAY Review for Religious goal in a common manner . The sisters need something that is iust for them. Often Sunday sermons are directed to groups present . Without occasional (weekly) conferences on some point of our religious life, we get to see only the material side of the work and our (so-called) monotonous life becomes a burden; consequently we miss graces that should draw us closer to God . The conferences throughout the year are, perhaps, of greater importance than the annual retreat and too few religious are fortunate enough to have these. At the annual retreat a sister is prepared to make the most of whatever material the retreat-master will present-the retreat is seldom a completely barren experience. However, it is sad that sisters get so little spiritual help during the year while they are busy with work and problems. It seems evident that the average priest does not consider extra assistance to religious neces-sary . As I said, I'm hungry for spiritual food . Unless we have something to encourage us and help us keep our goal in mind, we tend to become lax and seem to slip into bad habits instead of growing in the spiritual life. To these reasons for the value of the regular spiritual eonferenee I would add two bthers that are perhaps reasons for the reasons. The first is that psychologically the spoken word, all else being equal, produces more effect on us than does the written. This is true not only in religious matters but in secular as well. We human beings are just so made up that an earnestly spoken message is, other things being equal, considerably more moving than an identical written one. It is a simple fact of experience that a person-with-a-message is mueh more effective than a book-with-a-message. Blessed is the religious community that can have at least one well-prepared eonferenee eaeh week given by a holy and interested priest. Sisters are human and social, and so they, too, need the support and enlightenment and push .that derive from the word of God in .telligently and holily announeed. Spiritual reading is excellent . . . but insufficient. The second reason is that 'providentially faith de facto still comes through hearing, despite .the vast flow from modern presses. St. Paul's insistence on the preached "good news" .is pertinent in our day just as it .was in his. Religious, being human like all the rest of men, need the enlightening, moving, and bolstering effeet of God's word as presented by a Church-commissioned herald. Frequency HOW often ought the spiritual conference to be woven into the typical religious community's work year? As we might ex- 270 September, 1960 SPIRITUAL (~0NFERENCES pect, opinions vary widely all the way from the few who would like conferences twice a week (or even a daily homily at Mass) to the other few who would prefer none at all. Approximately sixty per cent of the sisters queried reflected a contentment with the common practice of the monthly conference, while the remaining forty per cent (approximately) were almost equally divided in preferring conferences every week and once every two weeks. From reading the sisters' comments, however, I came away with the impression that a goodly number of the sixty per cent group would like conferences more frequently than once a month if (1) they were competently prepared and given, and (2) if obstacles (lack of time, for example) could be removed. We may note some of the typical .comments that were. offered on this question of the frequency of spiritual con-ferences : The need would depend on the spiritual benefits of a similar nature available i.n a particular environment; for example, in a motherhouse the Sunday sermons are keyed "to the needs" of religious. Sisters stationed in city parishes would welcome more conferences . Once a week (her preference) almost seems like spiritual gluttony-but I suppose if a lot of vocal prayers were omitted from the daily horarium and more time allowed for meditation, spiritual reading and mental prayer, one wouldn't ask for spiritual conferences so often . A profitable homily at Sunday's Mass is most inspiring- and almost all we have time for apart from an extra conference on retreat Sunday once a month . Every two weeks if the conferences are really designed for religious and are not just ordinary good sermons . I believe that one conference a week is certainly not too much to keep a professed sister on the right path . If we have one week a spiritual conference by a priest, the next week one by our superior in connection with the chapter of faults, we have enough for reflection and practice. What's the use of so many conferences if we don't do half of what we hear? . . . If a priest was really in-terested in giving them, weekly; but otherwise, never. We have them monthly; but so many assigned can't stand the assignment, so nothing gained . Once a month; oftener, during Advent and Lent . I would say every week if it were not too ditBcult to work into a priest's schedule. Also if the sister's program is not overcrowded . Retreat Sunday is an. ideal time due to the fact that we are more recollected and pressing duties do not permit it oftener . Once a week can be a tremendous help in keeping steady, particularly where one works constantly with seculars! It is an absolute, necessity . The oftener, the better- but our time is so very limited. Furthermore, most 271 THOMAS DUBAY Review /or Religious priests seem to lack time for preparation; therefore, they either read something or talk aimlessly. Often my private sp~tual reading benefits me more . That depends on the amount of time.you have and the amount the conference takes. Once a month seemed the accepted norm as it would be rather dii~cult to arrange ,most schedules for a weekly conference. A reasonable judgment on the most desirable frequency of spiritual conferences seems to me dependent on a number of conditions and distinctions. The first of the distinctions is that between the ideal and the real, between what is objectively the best and what is actually, obtainable. The first of the conditions is that the conferences be worthwhile, that they profit the sisters, that they be prepared and given by an interested, com-petent priest. I can see no point in boring a religious community with a mediocre conference that could be as .inspiringiy read from any ordinary book of spiritual reading, but I can see a great deal of point in enlightening a community with a theo-logically- based, strongly motivating series of conferences. The second distinction lies in the amount of training the sisters have had in theology and Sacred Scripture. If a particular group of religious have perhaps the equivalent of thirty to forty hours of college-level religion to their credit, they obviously stand in less need of frequent conferences than another group with a highschool-level grasp of their faith. But, despite the progress initiated by the Sister Formation Conferences, there are few sisters today who have what we may call a thorough training in theology and Sacred Scripture. Our third distincl~ion bears on the amount of time available in the sisters' weekly schedules. Those schedules are admittedly jam-packed already. Why pack them more tightly? I carry no brief for jamming schedules, but I do carry one for the thesis that the first reason a girl becomes a religious is to further and hasten her personal sanctification. Hence, ! would curtail some of the vocal prayers and works of the apostolate so that she may engage sufficiently in those spiritual exercises that are most effecti-~e in nourishing her interior life of prayer and love. If these distinctions be properly drawn, I think it follows that a good spiritual conference once a week is not too much for the typical community of religious. But it may be too much for the typical priest. ~n_d. here is where I think the real problem lies. The priest with time on his hands is a rare ~creature these 272 September, 1960 SPIRITUAL CONFERENCES days. So, perhaps,, we need not look for a leisure laden con-ference master. He may not be the type the sisters need, anyway. An old dictum has it that when you want something done, yo.u should ask a busy man to do it. Superiors, therefore, should search long and hard . . . until they find. For their part priests should be generous when religious call for conferences. While it happens that a particular priest simply cannot take on any more extra work, yet before he reaches that decision he should reflect that he can hardly do anything better with his time than to devote at least some of it to consecrated souls. After priests themselves, who are closer to the heart of Christ than our sisters and brothers ? Availability of Competent Priests Intimately tied up with the problem of the frequency of spir!tual conferences is the supply of priests able and willing to give enlightened explanations of matters spiritual. To this point the sisters returned over and over again: It is not so easy to get priests for monthly conferences . There are only diocesan priests at a' convenient distance and they i]nd it burden-some to take care o~ this more than twice a year . Sisters go from one retreat to another without a single conference. I~ only priests would o~er to give us a share in their knowledge of things spiritual. We hesi-tate asking them because o~ their pleading o~ "inability". Should not priests be trained for it (conference giving) and made available?. I think we badly need these conferences, but unless they are given by priests interested in sisters and also well prepared in ~their subiects they will not be very helpful . This depends on the priest giving them. My check (once a week) presupposes a priest who is really interested in the spiritual' welfare o~ those to whom he gives the conferences, assuredly not one who regards the giving o~ :them just an added Chore in his busy li~e . I highly approve o~ the conferences, but in many cases the priest appointed makes it a terrible thing to sit through, because he isn't too anxious to give the conference himsel~ . This, too, depends upon the speaker. I~ he is good- once a week. I~ he reads from a book- "not at all" would suit me . It depends on the person giving the conferences. Some might just as well be read from a spiritual book . I would say once a week i~ there were time. I would want a competent. priest- not just one who happened to be locally available and who might not be the best spiritual advisor for sisters . Retreat and :conferehce masters should have something helD~ul to oiler and not expect the Holy (~host to do it all for them. I'hope this is not blasphemous or heretical. I do believe in the work o~ the Holy Spirit, but the one through whom 273 THOMAS DUBAY Review for Religious He speaks should ~e as good an instrument as possible. Communities should rather say they have no one than send one who merely keeps us on a chair for a required time. Forgive And we could cite more. Yet, at the same time there is some-thing to be said for the poor conference master. He is often a man already heavily burdened with his ordinary work (as the sisters realize), and perhaps cannot put all the time he would like in preparing his message. At other times he simply is not cut out for work with religious. His grasp of the principles of the interior life is quite adequate for most of his work with the laity, but it may not be deep enough or. understanding enough for the sisters' needs. And there is not much that we can do about that. Individual priests, .how.ever, can and ought to per-fect their knowledge of the finer points of the spiritual life and its applications to those living under the vows of religion. They should remember that a tremendous degree of glory is given to God by raising one ordinarily good soul to higher de-grees of sanctity and that our sisters are almost without .ex-ception eager recipients of whatever will help them to love God more. Subjects for Spiritual Conferences As we might expect, there is a wide variety of opinion as to what type of subject matter is most desirable for spiritual conferences to religious. While I do not think this is the kind of prQblem that ought to be solved by the counting up of opinions, I do believe that the sisters' preferences are surely worth noting. Among the religious who participated in our study we can distinguish almost three equally strong types of prefer-ence. One wished the spiritual conference to center .chiefly on the explanation of Sacred Scripture. The second group preferred " the subject matter to deal with dogmatic and moral theology. The third section was content with ascetical and mystical theology together with the ordinary retreat meditation topics. It is hardly needful to point out that these three preferences are hardly mutually exclusive. A solid explanation of Sacred Scripture cannot avoid theology, whether, it be dogmatic, ascetical, or moral. Nor can the latter be treated properly with-out generous references to the word of God contained in the sacred writings. In comment on their preferences the sisters had the following points to make. 274 September, 1960 SPIRITUAL CONFERENCES I think the above list is important and greatly needed by us, but for practical purposes a series of conferences on the supernatural life, our in-corporation in Christ, the mystical body would help us rise .above the materialism in which we live. Perhaps we need the theological and scrip-tural treatment first, but I do know we need to have our hearts warmed as well as our heads enlightened in order to live to the full the wonder- ¯ fulness of our vocation . The Church has developed a wonderful plan for our sanctificatio~ in her seasons and feasts. Very few priests help us to follow it . This depends on each separate community whose i~dividual approach to sanctity emphasizes different aspects. The knowl-edge o.~ dogmatic ~ind moral theology is essential for nuns; and ff it cannot be gained by any other means, the monthly conference should be used for that purpose . Certainly not always the same .subjects, please! . . . As teachers we'd like something we can use ourselves and something we can present to others . I am particularly interested in learning how to get the most out of the New Testament . Not only can we use Sacred Scripture in our daffy lives, but it becomes easier to pass on to our pupils and those with whom we come in contact . (I would like an) explanation o'f mystical prayer and our call to it as members of the mystical body of Christ. Too many have warped ideas on the word, mysticism, and associate it with visions, locutions, and such. An additional subject for a conference I'd like to suggest is: scandal, known and unknown, that we religious are a source of to the laity. Example: careless genuflection, sign of the cross, worldliness in our speech, reading, manners, and so forth . Using the same subjects as retreat meditations could be a means of keeping alive throughout the year the contents of the annual ~'etreat . Nlost sisters would like Sacred Scripture applied. You have to know your audience. If they walk in the way of mystical prayer, the finer points would be welcome. I think the majority would not receive enough benefit from dogmatic and moral theology unless they have a background in it. Father, many sisters lead deeply spiritual lives and we are not so interested in your learning as such, as we are in knowing that you firmly live and believe your doctrine . This is the real need for American sisters- a weekly doctrinal or theological sermon to give us depth, so that we will make meaningful and significant contributions to the apostolate in Which we work. Upon reading this collection of variant opinions a priest might well say to himself that he is bound to displease some-body no matter on what subject he may speak. But it is con-versely true that he is also bound to please somebody! As I indicated above, I do not feel that this problem of conference subject matter is to be decided by a spiritualized Gallup poll. Rather, I think that once grasping the sisters' needs as they 275 THOMAS DUBAY Review ]or Religious see them, each conference master must decide for himself what will do his audience the most spiritual good. His decision, how-ever, should be reached under the double light of this particular community (its background, needs, spirituality, and so on) and his own particular talents. The former of these two points is clear; the latter demands a word of comment. Just as th~ frequency of conferences is conditioned by the availability of priests, so is the subject matter of those con-fei- ences conditioned by the comPetency of the master. Not every priest can give enlightened conferences on dogmatic or moral theology, on .asceticism or mysticism, or on Sacred Scrip-ture. And a,~riest who is competent in one of these fields is not by that fact alone competent in the others. But here we are speaking Of the ideal. Practically, religious will have for the most part to 'be content, with something less. than the expert, andthat something less will usually suffice aft long as the priest prepare his conferences carefully. It seems to me that the ideal spirit~ual conference is free from the two extremes of the merely exhortatory and of the classroom lecture. Although a few of the sisters seemed in their observations to envision the conference as a kind of class in dogmatic or moral theology, I personally do not believe that such is its main purpose. While a good conference will aid a sister in teaching its subject matter in her classroom, the prime purpose of that conference is not her professional preparation but her spiritual development in love for God. The motivating and exhortatory elements, therefore, may not be neglected. And yet the spiritual conference should be built around a strong core of theology that delves more deeply into revelation than would a conference given to novices. An apparently simple subject such as humility should not be treated in the same way for a. group of mature religious as it is for a class of novices. For older religious a conference on humility should include some of the virtue's finer points together with a discussion of the more subtle manifestations of pride that arise with, age, responsibility, accomplishment, recognition and perhaps fame. Mature religious ordinariIy should not .be given the same kind of primer material°that they have already received at the dawn of their consecrated lives. For them~ too, repetition is boring. One item more. In their comments on ~the subject matter and frequency of spiritual conferences, a number of the sisters 276 September, 1960 SPIRITUAL CONFERENCES expressed the view that a series of conferences progressively building upon one theme is preferable to a change of subject from talk to talk. A series of conferences on one subiect is more profitable, I think, than a complete new subject each time. This is my individual thought . I would like a particular theme or topic for each year, following a pattern like The Three Ages of the Interior Life by Garrigou-Lagrange- one conference built on the preceding one, for example . (I would like) conferences given on a rein-eat day and following a set plan for the year . Would like to have the conferences develop a topic from week to week rather than just give superfidial "smatterings." Lecturer must be able to inspire confidence that he knows his subject . I would like all of these (subiects) included but a planned .program for the spiritual conferences and every spiritual conference, regardless of topic; made prac-tical but not sacrificing depth for practicality. ". My community has conferences monthly. When properly organized by the priest who gives them (save us from haphazard work!) they could be of great value weekly. With these opinions I concur, but I do not think that we need make any iron-bound rule about the matter, nor do I think the sisters intended such. On occasion it may be helpful to include a conference on a topic not dealing with the current series material. Miscellaneous Observations Although the point may seem obvious, it may not be useless to observe that the priest chosen to give conferences to a religious community ought not to be their ordinary confessor, perhaps no confessor of theirs at all. Our reason for noting this point is not that there is a danger that he may reveal con-fessional matter, but rather that he may seem to be referring to something he has heard in the sacred tribunal, when actually he is saying something in conference that he would have surely said in any event. This possibility of seeming to touch upon confessional matters can be most uncomfortable for the priest and perhaps also for an individual hearer. It can be easily dis-posed of by separating the two offices of confessor and conference .master. At least two of the sisters in their written comments sug-gested that the priest give his listeners an bpportunity to ask questions. Said one of the sisters:~ "If these (conferences) could be given some place other than the chapel so that the 277 THOMAS DUBAY sisters could ask questions and make comments, I think more .good would be accomplished. Give the sisters an outline of the topics to be covered with some references. Allow them to ask questions and make it a learning situation rather than a passive and sleeping situation." This idea, I think, is a good one. But if I may judge from past experience in conducting question periods with religious women during conference time, the priest may have some difficulty in getting the sisters to ask questions. Unfortunately, I think the sisters at times fear that their questions may appear foo.lish, and so they prefer to remain silent. This fear is ill-founded in my opinion, for I have found both their questions and their observations intelligent and thought provoking. We need not insist on the point that once the ice has been broken and the sisters are discussing freely, there is no problem in getting them .to continue talking! Understandably~ enough, the sisters laid considerable em-phasis on the choice of an optimum time of the day and the week for the spiritual conference : They should be given sometime ,when we have time to think about them afterwards; for example, Saturday night Or Sunday, not on a school day. . . Please don't give them at the time of the day ~vhen the sisters are exhausted after a more than full day of work and prayer . Once a week would be excellent, if you aren't too loaded down with teaching activities. It's hard to appreciate a confer.ence when you have no idea when your lessons are to be prepared . Speaking as one on a mission, if the daily schedule were not too heavy, once a week would be fine and then it could substitute for some parish service. The last remark is especially worthwhile. If it is agreed that faith comes through hearing and that, as a consequence, the spiritual conference is of central importance for a religious' growth in love for God, it would seem to follow that other less needed a~tivities and exercises be curtailed or omitted in order to make time available. This problem can be solved by superiors alone. The difficulties involved in securing for religious commu-nities regular, frequent, and sound spiritual conferences are admittedly knotty ones; and we do not suppose that in the limited confines of this article we have solved them. Suitable solutions, I think, can be reached in the concrete only by some original thinking on the part of superiors and by a spirit of sacrifice on the i~ar~ of ?.)riests invited to participate in this noble task. 278 Prayer and Action Columban Browning, C. P. with the ever-increasing needs of the Church, a question comes to the fore that is very crucial. The question concerns the relative merits and importance of two essential elements of the religious life, prayer and action. Much has been written and many discussions held on this subject. The general tenor of most of the books and articles written about it is familiar enough. We are reminded repeatedly that the first obligation of every religious is to be closely united with God, or to be a saint. With this unquestiofiable fact as a point of emphasis, we are forcefully reminded that our apostolic work is only secondary. Those who write such books and articles invariably cite the well known text from St. John of the Cross: "An instant of pure love is more precious in the eyes of God and to the soul and more profitable to the Church tha~ all other good works put together." (Spiritual Canticle, Stanza 28). No one can question such a position. If we were to deny that the perfect love of God is the goal of every soul,, all else would of necessity fall with it. But unfortunately we are left with the impression that the active life is an obstacle to holiness and that therefore we must undertake it with many misgivings. As a result we may be led to believe that the terms primary and secondary end of the religious life should be translated as helpful and harmful. It is regrettable that so many religious have a faulty under-standing of the relative place of prayer and action in the life they live for God. And false attitudes in this as in all things can cause untold conflict and harm. In. this matter we are dealing with two elements that are essential to religious living; accord-ingly they can and must be harmonized. The Importance of Prayer Of the two things that we are considering, prayer and union With God is unquestionably first in importance. A re-ligious whose heart and soul are not centered on God is a mis-guided soul and hardly a good religious. Such a one is failing The Reverend Columban Browning is stationed at Saint Gabriel Monastery, 1100 63rd Street, Des Moines 11, Iowa. 279 COLUMBAN BROWNING Review for Religious in his own basic purpose in life and is hardly qualified to lead others to Him. The desire to make God the center of one's Own heart is then a basic necessity. The reasonsfor this are very evident : 1) The basic need for prayer and union with God flows primarily from the fact that we are creatures of God, made by His hands for His own glory. As creatures of God we are totally dependant upon Him. All that we have has come from Him as must every grace that we hope for in the future. He has made us to know, love, and serve Him in this world in order that we might be happy with Him in heaven. Our life without God is meaningless, and to seek anything apart from God's will is to rob Him of His glory. Our desire .to lead others to God must flow from the realization that they are made for the same purpose and that God has a right to their love and service. It is very evident then, that the most basic reason why. we must seek God first in our own personal life is because we are creatures of His and as such are totally dependent upon - Him. 2) The second reason why prayer and union with God must come first in the life of a religious comes from the °nature of the Christian and religious life. The Christian life itself, of which the religious life is but the perfection, is an entirely su-pernatural life. At baptism we were lifted out of the realm of mere creatures of God and became His childrhn. This wonderful transformation came about through the infusion of the precious life of sanctifying grace in our soul. At that moment our life ceased to be merely natural and becameentirely supernatural. By our religious vocation we have been called to live that supernatural life more fully. And what else is a supernatural life but a life centered on God? The goal, then, of the re.ligious is evidently to bring his soul to unfold more and more to God. This is another way of saying that he is called to a life of prayer and union with God. 3) The third reason why prayer is so important in the life of a religious is an extrinsic one. It is the spirit of the world in which he lives and works. Even in our Lord's time He warned about possible contamination by the spirit of the world. That spirit in our own day is all the more worldly and therefore an even greater threat to fidelity to God. The religious of today is surrounded by that worldly spirit and .is exposed to 280 September, 1960 PRAYER AND ACTION its influence daily. Granting that the love and service of God is the foremost duty of the religious, it follows of necessity that he must devote himself all the more earnestly to a life of prayer and union with God if he is to stay above the allurements of this world. We see then the vital importance of prayer in the life of a religioug, seeing that he is a creature of God; called to the perfection of the supernatural life, and this in a milieu that is not always the most favorable. The Importance of Apostolic Activity But to stress the need for prayer is not to deny the neces-sity and value of apostolic activity. The basic need for such work is also easy to demonstrate from a number of reasons: 1) Let us point out first the general need that human beings must.work in some way. By disobeying Godl our first parents lost the privileges that God had conferred upon them in the beginning. Among the penalties imposed upon them was the duty of laboring by the sweat of their brow. None of the descendants of Adam and Eve is exempt from this penalty for sin. The religious, sublime though his vocation is, is not exempt from the law of labor, not even cloistered contemplative re-ligious. Plus XII in one of his allocutions urged this duty in a special way on the members of cloistered communities. Cer-tainly the same duty rests all the more on. those called to active communities. The nature of the work the religious does may differ from that of people in the world. But the duty re-mains as a direct consequence of original sin. 2) A second reason why work is necessary derives from the very union with God to which we are called. This point can best be made by quoting the great Thomistic commentator, Cajetan: "Let spiritual directors note this and let them see to it that their disciples are, first of all, exercised in the active life before proposing to them the heights of contemplation. One must, in fact, tame one's passions by habits of meekness, patience, etc. in order to be able, once the passions have been dominated, to rise to the contemplative life. In default of this previous exercise in asceticism, many who instead of walking rush along the ways of God, find themselves after having de-voted a great part of their lives to contemplation devoid of all the virtues, impatient, irritable, proud, if they are put to the least test. Such persons have neither an active nor a contempla- 281 COLUMBAN BROWNING Review for Religious tive life, nor the combination .of the two, but have rather built upon sand, and would to God that this were a rare blunder" (Commentary on the summa. Theologiae, 1-2, 182, 1). It is clear then that self discipline is necessary to achieve union with God and there is no means of discipline more constructive than that which is learned in apostolic work. 3) Our third reason for the importance of apostolic work is seen from the crying needs of the Church. in the modern world. Souls in need are there by the thousands. They are all created by God for His glory and they are in danger of being lost to Him forever. The work mus~ be done in so far as humanly possible, and ~what religious is so heartless as to face these great needs with indifference? In His providence, God intends that these neglected souls be saved by us who have been more privileged. To do the work demanded of us we must labor and suffer with Christ, seeking as our only reward the peace that comes from knowing that. souls are being helped. Such work done from the simple motive of serving God need not harm the life of prayer and recollection, which alone gives the work its direction and purpose. We do not mean to imply, of course, that prudence should be thrown to the w~nd.in our efforts to meet the crying needs of the .Church. Just because the work is there to be done does not mean thatsuperi0rs can drive their subjects to their death. Two simple principles must govern us in our approach to this work. They are: (1) health must be safeguarded lest our ability to work is abruptly ended with little accomplished, (2) the work must not be so intensive that no time is left for spiritual nourishment, without which the soul will dry up and die of starvation and thus put an end .to its usefulness in the service of God. But the fact that there are potential dangers does not derogate from the importance and the value of that work as such. Harmonizing Prayer and Action We are dealing with two things, both of which are es-sential elements in the service of God. There must be a life of prayer, else there will be no direction or purpose in the re-ligious life. There must also be work of s~me kind for the upbuilding of the mystical~body of Christ. This work may take on different forms depending upon the type of community to which one belongs. But without work of some kind, the life of 282 September, 196o PRAYER AND ACTION prayer itself will dry up and become barren. In active commu-nities work means absorption in many intense activities for the good of souls. The two elements, prayer and action, must never be looked upon as opposites that cannot possibly be reconciled. Admittedly, to balance the two without allowing either of them to suffer is a delicate art and cannot be achieved quickly. 'An amount of difficutly must be expected, .especially in the beginning. But the difficulties should ~not lead one to think that this balance is impossible. Persevering, patient effort is necessary. The religious will find himself at times concentrating on the one element to the detriment of the other. Many mistakes will be made. But through these very mistakes the soul will become gradually more humble and dependent upon God. And as this happens, he will become more attuned to God and peace and harmony will gradually come about. Perhaps the best key to success in attaining this harmony is in the proper attitude of mind. We must see both our life of prayer and our life of work as two aspects of the same thing- our faithful service of God. In both we must seek the same God and do so with the conviction that in both He can be found. When work is demanding, we should realize that we are working for God and tl~at He is pleased by our efforts, even though they may be fumbling efforts at times. Even if the work is of such an absorbing nature that we cannot be as directly attentive to God as we would like, we must not become .unduly disturbed but humbly and simply do the work for God. On the other hand, when it is time for prayer We should not worry and fret over the work that must be neglected but rather realize that without our prayer we will not be prepared to do the work as it should be done -- for the love of God. The religious must keep in mind the purpose of his voca-tion. It is a .call to seek God with all his heart. This means that in all things he must seek God and that in all things God can be found. He must pray with all his heart and. keep God in the center of his own life. But he must also work with all his energy that he might, lead as many others as possible to love and serve the same God that he loves. The more sincerely and earnestly he pursues both these aspects of his life and directs them both to God, the closer will he come to realizing the purpose of his vocation. 283 La Sallian Prayer for Active Religious Brother F. Joseph, F. S. C. S T. JOHN Baptist de la Salle, founder of the Brothers of the Christian Schools, wrote for his community a manual of mental prayer called Explication de la mdthode ¯ d'oraison. The Method, as we have it in the text of 1739, is notable for at least two reasons. First, it is a method written for an apostolically oriented community. "The Institute of the l~rothers of the Christian Schools is a Society in which pro-fession is made of keeping schools gratuitously.''1 And: "The end of this institute is to give a Christian education to chil-dren . . . ''~ To attain this end, St. La Salle taught his brothers that they had to be men whose speculative and operative faith was to be so strong as to become the prime characteristic of their society. He assigned as the spirit of the institute a spirit of faith and zeal, without which the individual members would lack the vital principle designed to make them valid brothe~s. He described the spirit of faith as: ". a spirit of faith, which should induce those who compose it not to look upon anything but with the eyes of faith, not to do anything but in view of God, and to attribute all to God . . .,,a In other words, the spirit which all the brothers were urged to attain was an attitude of soul which focused their attention away from them-selves and on God. The saint's norm, it will be noted, is a complete one: "not to look upon anything, to att~:ibute all." Its very completeness demands explanation, Obviously, the founder realized that such perfection of supernatural intention is not always achieved in practice and that therefore this prescription of the rule was to be regarded as an ideal always to be striven 1Common Rules and Constitutions of the Brothers o.[ the Christian Schools (Rome: Mother House, 1947), Chapter I, article 1. Referred to hereafter as C. R. ~C./~., Ch. I, a. 4. sC. R., Ch. II, a. 1. Brother F. Joseph is presently teaching at La Salle College, Anselm Hall, Philadelphia 17, Pennsylvania. 284 LA SALLIAN PRAYER for. But because it was an ideal, it enjoyed the privilege of the ideal: to be recalled so frequently that eventually it would become a fixed principle of action, a real final cause determining at least the majority of the human acts of the soul. But the attaining of a God-centered principle of activity like this is not easy. What is involved is a complete conversion of values. The soul must cease to live on a superficial level to descend deeply into reality where Infinite Truth and Infinite Good can exercise their proper control over the decisions of the individual. Again, the soul must cease to act for itself and begin' to act for another ;, and only one who has experienced how deeply the roots of ego-directed .activity plunge into the being of himself will realize the tensions created in a man who wants to purify himself of self. If the intention directing the. p,~rifica-tion is anything short of the attaining of. God's love, the purification must inevitably fail because the intention motivating it still stands within the area to be purified: I want to purify myself so that I can be better. And even if the intention is fixed rigidly on God, the man will still not completely cleanse himself of self, mainly because the last shreds of self-regard are so inextricably entangled, with one's metaphysical self that the only one who can do the untangling is the one who thorough: ly understands that self- God. In short, the man who desires to attain Infinite Good would be wise to deliver himself up to Infinite Truth as. quickly as he can. Otherwise he may find himself in a labyrinth of self-induced ac.~ivity with little or no chance of escape into the light he desires so much. St. La Salle wanted his brothers, to desire God. and His will. But he knew that such a desire had to penetrate deeply into the soul-fiber of each brother before it could become his dis-tinguishing characteristic. And he also knew that the desire would become effective not because his men. had intellects, wills~ and imaginations capable of engendering such a desire; they' hadn't, not~ only because his first brothe~s were anything but ¯ intellectual giants, but chiefly because no man, of. himself, could ~'.~Jroduce the kind of.attitude St. La Salle wasadumbrating. He knelt ~l~t the brothers ' would become God-centered. only if. God. did most of the maneu~cering and the brothers had the sense, ¯ to continue saying "Yes" to God's activity upon. their souls. Therefore, their proper Work was to prepare themselves for God by becoming aware that He is, what He is, and how He 285:. BROTHER F. JOSEPH Review far Religious operates. But St. La Salle, whose knowledge of religious orders ¯ and their external works was extensive, realized that that awareness could, not depend on ,the pervasive kind of God-consciousness that permeates contemplative monasteries where everything tends to lead the soul directly to contact with God. His brothers were to work in a milieu where much would h~ppen to make them lose that awareness- a classroom teetering on the brouhaha that the youngster of the seventeenth-century French slum could concoct with startling suddenness. St. La Salle did all he could to bring the monastery atmosphere into the classroom; he caused the main staple of the classroom prayer to be the hourly and half-hourly recalling of the holy presence of God to all in the room, and he had the rooms decorated with the crucifix and holy pictures. But he also knew that such measures were essentially dependent projections of something more profound and necessary, just as, analogously, the various parts of the Office recited during the day in the monastery were dependent for their full strength upon the com-munal Mass from which the Office radiated. The profound, necessary foundation upon which all the other attentions to God during the day rested was, in St. La Salle's scheme, mental prayer. "The Brothers of this Insti-tute should have a great love for the holy exercise of mental prayer, and they should look upon it as the first and principal of their daily exercises, and one which is the most capable of drawing down the blessing of God on all the others.''4 The reason for the choice is not hard to see. The two half-hours of mental prayer each day that St. La Salle legislated for his brothers were designed specifically to give the brothers training in the awareness of God and the self-dedication to His interests that constituted the essence of their lives. St. La Salle's whole method of prayer was merely a descant on the basic concept: to do all for God, to attribute all to God. He divided his method into three basic parts: the placing of oneself in the presence of God, the dedicating of oneself to the subject of the day, and the reviewing and the thanking God for the graces received. But he made clear to the brothers that the most important part of the prayer was in confronting God in the first part and then staying before Him for all the rest of ~C. Ro, Ch. IV, a. 1. 286 Sep$e~nber, 1960 LA SALLIAN PRAYER the half-hour. The second part of the method was not to be thought of as merely an exercise of the intellect or the imagi-nation; he did not want the body of the prayer to be a compo-sition of place nor a presentation to the will, by the intellect, of divided and subdivided reasons for acting out the conse-quences of some virtue. What he wanted the second part to be was quite simple: another leap into the supernatural world similar to the first part in that it brought the brother face to face with divinity; and different from the first part in that the particular person most often confronted was Christ, but Christ really as a person spoken to, lived with, contemplated, not merely thought about. This sense of otherness that the saintdemanded cannot be overstressed; he wanted his religious to use the mental prayer time almost exclusively for one purpose--to become God-conscious through personal experience of God, because without that conc.entrated attention to God in the morning and evening the brothers could be almost certain that they would not find God in the more diffused activities of the day. And, because the brothers were to spend so much time in those other activ-ities, one can see why the founder wanted them to pay such close attention to God in mental prayer. The prayer was to give them much of what they needed to make the day super-naturally fruitful for themselves and their boys, not by becom-ing a sort of bank upon which the religious could draw as the day proceeded, but by being a seed, pregnant with a life which would blossom and fructify through and by means of the work of the day. Thus, the teaching or the administration or the housework each brother engaged in could become, a vital super-natural experience, a carrying out of God's will, a meeting of the human will with the divine it was destined to be united to. And if he did allow the work to begin in prayer, the work would eventually become' one of the prayer's greatest sources of strength: he had to pray to make his work, which was his life, successful. All one has to read to see how highly St. La Salle regarded the work of the brothers is the following: "You have exercises of piety specially intended to help you towards your own sanctification, it is true, but if you are really zealous for the salvation of your pupils, you will not fail, even in these, to direct your intention towards this end. Thus you will draw down the graces needed to contribute efficaciously to 287 BROTHER F. JOSEPH Review for Religious the salvation of your pupils, and God himself will take care .of your own.''~ We can see, therefore, that St. La Salle's method of prayer was directed towards an apostolically-oriented community. The second consideration I wish to develop is that the M~thode was composed primarily for the novices of the congregation, but not only for them. The primary purpose explains the minutely-segmented series of acts that compose the method: in the first part the method prescribes placing oneself in the presence of God and then m~iking acts of faith, adoration~ and thanksgiving for that presence; acts of humility, confusion, and contrition because of that presence; and acts of application of the merits of Christ, of union with Him, and of impetration for His spirit, in preparation for the second part; the second part prescribes placing before oneself a mystery of Christ, or one of His virtues or His sayings, and then making, before Christ and in union with Him, acts of faith, adoration, thanksgiving for His revelation of divinity through the .mystery, virtue, or saying; acts of confusion, and contrition, because one has not yet com-pletely profited by Christ's work, and an act of application by which one resolves in a definite way to apply Christ's spirit to oneself; an act of union with the special spirit of Christ as He lived the mystery or virtue or saying about which one has been praying; an act of petition for the spirit, and an act of invoca-tion of the saints so that the spirit will be given; and the third part of mental prayer prescribes a rapid review of all .that. had been done during the half-hour, a thanksgiving for the graces received, an act of offering of the prayer and of oneself, and finally an invocation to the Blessed Virgin, possibly the 0 Domina Mea. Even the most harebrained novice should have been able to keep himself occupied with a method that detailed for him almost twenty-five things to be done in thirty minutes. The novice-directed motivation of the Method explains also why the saint actually composed specimen acts for each of the divisions of °the prayer. The book, therefore, in its English edition: consumes 163 pages and is an invaluable introduction to the apostolic, God-centered prayer that St. La Salle desired his brothers to foster. aW. J. Ba~tersby, ed. and tr., De La Salle: Meditations (London: Longmans, Green and .Company, 1953), p. 35. Italics added. 288 September, 1960 LA SALLIAN PRAYER But the Method was not composed only for novices. Certain features Of the book indicate that St. La Salle had no desire to keep his brothers everlastingly making minute-and-a-half acts (or less) so that each morning they could render self-conscious congratulations to themselves that "Yes, I finished my mental prayer today." The founder knew mystical theology both speculatively and experimentally too well to assume that a religious with five or fifteen or fifty years of prayer behind him will be as delighted with so segmented a system of prayer as a flighty novice would be. Therefore he built into his system several types of freedom. For example, he tells his brothers: "We should mention, in reference to our application to the holy presence of God, that we should not dwell on it only for a short time, because it is the exercise that helps, more than any other to procure the spirit of mental prayer and our interior application thereto. We should therefore apply our mind to the presence of God to the exclusion of every other subject, until we find that any further application would be neither easy nor even possible.''6 And he is known to have advised at least one brother not to be afraid to spend a whole year or two on just the first part of mental prayer because, after all, such was the whole purpose of the prayer: to get oneself before God and to stay there. Again, the saint devotes towards the end of the book several pages to outlining five ways of abbreviating the acts so that they do not hamper the freedom of the soul: he tells the brothers they can use fewer words for each act than hE himself had used in the Method; or they can condense in one act the interior spirit of all the others; or they can make just an act of faith in the presence of God and another of adoration, and then omit all the other acts of the first part; or they can spread the acts of the second part over several meditations or concentrate heavily on one act and devote just a few words to all the others; or, very significantly: "When in the course of the exercise, we feel piously inclined to dwell on some sentiment or train of thought which we had not de-cided on beforehand, such as the love of God . . . we should sSt. John Baptist de la Salle, Explanation of the Method of Mental Prayer, translated from the French edition of 1739 (Paris: Procure Gdn~rale, 1912), p. 36. Referred to hereafter as Explanation. The reader is referred to the critical edition of the same work in French: Explication de la Mdthode d'Oraison, texte de 1739, Edition Critique, ed. Fr~re Emile Lett (Paris: Ligel, 1957). 289 BROTHER F. JOSEPH Review for Religious follow this inclination or any similar one, according to the. di-rection of the Holy Spirit, through a sentiment of faith and with a view to acquiring the perfection of our state of life. It is advisable to pursue this train of thought for as long as God is pleased to maintain our interest in the subject, this being a token of his approval.''7 In other words, Ubi Spiri~us Domini, libertas. The Spirit breathes where He wills, and the brothers would be wise to heed Him. But perhaps most significantly for the prayer's freedom is the tripartite division that runs throughout the entire method. St. La Salle~says that each one of the acts can be made in one of three different ways: through multiplied reflections, that is, through the use of many words, many considerations, so that the brother is in almost constant activity manufacturing his acts; or by few but long-continued reflections, about which more will be said below; and by simple attention, in which the brother suspends all words to rest in a simple view of faith concerning, say, God's presence, for a. quarter of an hour or more. St. La Salle regards the simple attention to God as the type of prayer which the experienced religious should cultivate; but he also realizes that it is a prayer which depends heavily on a free gift from God: "There are many souls so interiorly free, so detached from all created things, that God bestows on them this great grace, that they never lose, or only very rarely, the sense of His holy presence; a favour which gives them in this world a foretaste of the happiness of the Blessed in heaven.''8 For those readers experienced enough to be at this stage of prayer, this article has nothing whatever to say. But .for those who tend to ignore the wide gap between the prayer of the beginner which is almost all activity and the prayer of the advanced which is almost all passivity (or perhaps more accurately, almost all active receptivity), perhaps St. La Salle's ideas about his second method might prove helpful. He writes: "An easier means [than using many reflections] of penetrating ourselves with the presence of God in an interior manner is to recall a passage of Holy Scripture referring to the divine presence. We then make a reflection on. this passage, without much reasoning, for this weakens our faith ~E~planation, p. 141. SEzplana~ion, p. 32. 290 September, 1960 LA SALLIAN PRAYER and makes the .conception of the divine presence less vivid and real.''9 He explains the procedure in more detail: "We may make, for instance, the following reflection on this passage: ['I set the Lord always in my sight'] 'that it is a singular p~'ivilege to have the mind filled with the idea of God's holy presence, and that the practice of such an exercise gives a foretaste of the happiness of heaven.' We then dwell simply, and for as long as possible, on the passage of Scripture from this point of view.''1° He warns: "In these reflective processes, we must not allow the mind to be overcome by fatigue, as often happens to beginners; which may result in a dislike for mental prayer. When we find that our attention is no longer held by the first reflection, we should substitute another, which, supply-ing us with a fresh point of view and reawakening our affec-tions, enables us all the more readily to assimilate the truth contained in the passage of Holy Scripture.'.'11 He says again: "When we acquire a certain facility in making reflections on these acts, we should contrive to. use fewer words in the reflec-tions, and remain for some time in an interior silence, in order to let the reflection penetrate our mind in a more interior manner. For the abundance of interior words in mental prayer rather dissipates the mind instead of bringing the soul nearer to God and promoting interior recollection.''~ In other words, the saint desires to lead his brothers away eventually from a prayer in which they are manufacturing words incessantly, because he wants them to become sensitively aware of the movements of the Holy Spirit. But such sensitivity is difficult in a soul given to constant internal chatter. St. La Salle would like his men to be able to enter chapel and .to settle down immediately to a half-hour of simple attention to God; such is the goal he establishes for them. But he also wisely arranges the intermediate steps preparatory to contem-plative prayer. The steps are found in the continually lengthen-ing periods of attentive silence he desires in the second kind of prayer. The silence effects two things simultaneously: it, of necessity, restricts the feverish search for words that tires the religious who has gone over the same ground too frequently in "Explanation, p. 29. 1°Explanation, pp. 29-30. ~Explanation, p. 30. l'~Explana~ion, p. 46. 291 BROTHER F. JOSEPH Review far Religious the past, so frequently that at times he finds himself reciting an incremental formula that once had been mental prayer but which nov¢ has descended dangerously close to jargon; and the silence settles the soul before God and Christ so that the soul can begin to experience them here on earth .in a way analogous to the way it will experience them in heaven. Obviously the fact that St. La Salle is working here with analogy must be respected. But the other fact of the metaphysical linking between faith and vision must be respected, too. In short, St. La Salle's desire that his brothers recognize in their prayer a type of apprentice-ship for heaven rests on something more than a thin metaphor. It rests on the doctrine that between grace and glory exists a continuum. Concerning the advantages of the quiet attentiveness to God that the prayer fosters, St. La Salle writes: "It [the soul] is gradually absorbed with this tought of the privilege of the divine presence, and is still in touch with the subject of the passage taken from Holy S~ripture, which, being based on faith, enables the mind to realize more vividly the central truth, and helps us to adore it in God, and as the word of God with more fervour and earnestness.''13 Again: "These few words: 'My God, being constantly in Thy holy presence, how could I dare to say or do anything which should displease Thee?' these few words well impressed on the mind will produce a vivid attention to the truth expressed by them, which remaining deeply en-graved in our soul will easily recur again and again; and should this not happen, the serious attention given to the thought will leave behind it, in the soul, such a divine unction, such an attraction towards God, and such a horror of sin and for every-thing displeasing to God, that such a soul will easily have God in view, and always, hold sin in abomination. Thus it will gradually accustom itself to relish God and the things that bring it nearer to Him, and to relish them only in so far as they lead to Him, without looking at any attraction they may have of their own.''14 Such a prayer is a boon to busy religious. Prevented by their years of prayer from ~'eturning to the" delightful novelties they experienced in the novitiate, they are confronted by two laExplanation, p. 30. 14Explanation, pp. 46-47. 292 Sept~ember, 1960 LA SALLIAN PRAYER choices: to settle down to no prayer or to such desultory re-hashing of predigested convictions that almost no spiritual nourishment is possible; or to progress further upon the road of prayer by learning the liberating truth that they don't have to try to keep doing what they can't do. They don't have, to keep talking. They can select a passage from Scripture; on it they can formulate a short sentence of faith or adoration or of any other sentiment, and then they can keep quiet for as long as they remain attentive to at least the general drift of what they have proposed to themselves. Obviously, St. La Salle is not suggesting inactivity; what he is suggesting is an activity of attention to a pregnant silence inhabited by God and all His mysteries. And that is indescribably far away from a half-hour spent in a sleepy contemplation of nothing. The busy religious has to keep praying. In fact, because his work demands it, he should be praying more fervently and meaningfully than he ever did in the novitiate. But too often he is stagnating, not because his will is bad, but because he does not know what to do: St. La Salle, in this prayer, counsels him what to do: to keep progressing by means of a prayer that maintains its identifying character from day to day because of the active reception of God's imPulses and that provides for man's psychological hunger for variety by providing that each day the second part of prayer be dedicated to different mys-teries, virtues, or sayings of our Lord. Perhaps, God willing, the religious who gives himself generously to the method of simple, few reflections might find himself more quickly than he could expect at the prayer of simple attention. Stranger things have happened. Whoever outdid God in generosity ? 293 Survey of Roman Documents R. F. Smith, S. J. IN THIS article will be given a summary.of the documents which appeaied in Acta Apostolicae Sedis (AAS) during April and May, 1960. Throughout the survey page references will be to the 1960 AAS (v. 59.). The Roman Synod In the issues of AAS under consideration in this sur~,ey, the ma~or portion of the pages was devoted to the Roman Synod which was held from January 24 to January 31, 1960. At the opening of the Synod on January 24, 1960 (pp. 180-90), the Holy Father gave an introductory allocution in which he emphasized the importance of ecumenical, pro-vincial, and diocesan convocations in the history of the Church. After listing the eigh~ general topics to be considered during the duration of the Roman Synod, he concluded his allocution with a warm plea for prayers for the success of the Synod. The Priesthood The Synod held three sessions of deliberation; and at each of the sessions the Vicar of Christ delivered an allocution, each of which was devoted to some aspect of the priesthood. At the first session, on January 25, 1960 (pp. 201-11), John XXIII's general topic was the sanctity that a priest should possess. He began by noting that the person of the priest is sacred; he is made such by the rite of ordination, since the primary and principal task entrusted to the priest demands that he offer him-self as an immaculate host for the carrying out. of the redemption of the World. Furthermore the dignity of the priest is increased by the power he possesses to forgive sins. But this priestly Sel~-offering and this exercise of mercy is more pleasing to God when the priest is innocent and free from all sin. An agreeable personality, knowledge, polished speech, urbanity, and the like are the sign of a priest's human dignity; but his supernatural dignity must come from the altar he serves. In turn the priest must be such that he may lead the faitl~ul to think of Christ. Accordingly a priest must be holy; as one doctor of the Church has put it, "Christ is the great tunic of priests," since the ministers of Christ should be c9mpletely penetrated and informed by the sanctity of Christ. The Pope continued by suggesting to his listeners that they meditate the words of the twelve-year old Christ: "Did you not know 294 ROMAN DOCUMENTS that I must be about my Father's business?" (Lk 2:49). He also recom-mended the reading and studying of Chapter 12 of the Gospel of St. Luke, for it could rightly be entitled "On the training of the disciples and the people." Then the Pontiff reflected on the Epistle to the Romans read in the Office of the season, telling the members of the Synod that the first part of the Epistle should lead them to a great trust in their vocation since they have been called by the justice of God to be con-formed to His Son. And the second part of the same Epistle teaches them to avoid all vice and to work for the edification of their neighbor. In the second session of the Synod, on January 26, 1960 (pp.221-30), His Holiness discussed the virtues of head, heart, and tongue that a priest must possess. First of all, he stated, a priest must have knowledge and correct judgment. Hence he must study both before and after ordination and even up to the last days of his life. Secondly, the heart of a priest must be aflame with love. This love is first of all a love for Christ that will make the exercise of priestly piety a pleasure. It is this love, the Holy Father said, that is the perennial source of a priest's courage and comfort in the difficulties of his life. Secondly, he must possess a love for the Church and for souls. This love for souls must extend to a.ll, but especially to sinners and to the poor of all kinds. Although, the Pope continued, a priest is calledto an angelic life, his heart remains flesh and is not freed from the temptations of the flesh. At this point he expressed his sorrow at the reports that he has received of the scandal given by some priests whose hearts have become worldly. He also repre-hended the mistaken notion of some that the Church will judge it opportune to desist from the law of that ecclesiastical celibacy which in the course of centuries has been and is the outstanding ornament of the priesthood. Finally, the priest must be able to control his tongue; and the Pope did not hesitate to say that the priest who knows when to be silent and when to speak is a man adorned with a perfect and absolute priestly-virtue. The words of St. James on the evils of the tongue, he remarked, could well be committed to memory and engraved on the walls of the houses of ecclesiastical men. On January 27, 1960, at the third synodal session (pp. 240-51) the Pope spoke about the pastoral duties of priests. A priest, he said, is supposed to carry out the work of redemption; hence he must imitate Christ who said of Himself: "I am the good shepherd." Priests in Rome, he continued, have a double responsibility: one of direct pastoral work for souls and one of indirect pastoral work in the administration of Church affairs in the Roman curia. But they must be careful, he told them, not to let themselves become involved in secular things. For the Roman clergy must face the sobering fact that in Rome at present there is only one priest engaged in direct pastoral work f~)r every 3,300 of the faithful. Hence he implored all the priests of Rome to devote themselves 295 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious fully to their direct or indirect pastoral work and to avoid all secular activities. Ecclesiastical Students and Religious Women On January 28, 1960 (pp. 262-70), the Holy Father delivered an allocution to the ecclesiastical students of Rome so that they might also share in the fruits of the Synod. After applying to them the story of Gideon as given in Judges,. The Vicar of Christ proposed three points for their consideration. The first was that they should be worthy of their vocation, and he assured them that the lofty dignity of the priesthood requires of them the most spotless kind of life. This life, he said, means that they must fill their minds with knowledge, maintain an innocence of life that is free from worldly pursuits, acquire prudence in their actions, and act towards others with kindliness. Secondly, he said, they must know and love Scripture; and in .this regard he quoted to them the phrase of Apocalypse 10:9, "Take the book and' devour it." In Scripture, he insisted, the students \viii find the will of God for the con-duct of a fruitful ministry as ~vell as the norms for a safer and better development of their spiritual life. Finally, he encouraged them in the practice of constant prayer, telling them that it must become the food of their souls and the protection of their spiritual lives. He concluded by telling them that the Psalms should prove a great source of prayer for them; and he urged them to a careful study and meditation of individual psalms. As part of the synodal activity, the Holy Father also addressed the religious women of Rome, speaking to them on January 29, 1960 (pp. 278-84). Basing his allocution on a verse at the end of Chapter 8 of Book III of the Imitation of Christ, he centered his allocution around four major points. The first point was that of detachment h'om creatures. The first characteristic, he said, of the religious life is the ready and ioyful farewell to the things of the world in order to consecrate oneself to God in perfect virginity of heart. This virginity, he told his listeners, opens the heartto the truest, greatest, and most universal love which exists on this earth; for a religious has chosen a celestial Spouse and her field of work is the entire Church. It is this love which expresses itself in the religious' tender and gentle exercise of the various works of mercy. Because virginity can not long maintain itself if a solid formation is lacking, the H~ly Father turned next to a consideration of the strength of character necessary in religious women. This is a question, he. said, of an. interior strength which fosters humility, generates mildness, and leads to obedience, that sure school of strong, souls. This same strength, he assured the religious, will secure the pede.ct equilibrium of intellect, will, and sensibility; and it will form that ideal of a strong woman which Scripture (Prov. 31:10) proposes as a rare ~treasure. A strong soul, he 296 Septdmber, 1960 ROMAN DOCUMENTS added, Will never become a victim of sadness, for it is a sign of perfect virginity to serve God and souls without thinking of self. In the third part of the allocution, the Pontiff remarked that the ideal which he had traced can not be attained in a .few weeks; rather it must be asked for from God through insistent and faithful prayer. Hence, he continued, religious have a great need for constant prayer. This prayer, he said, springs from a serene conscience; prayer from such a conscience, he added, will be pure prayer: a listening to God, a speaking to God, a silence in God. As the Cure of Ars put it, a pure soul is present to God as a child to its mother. In the fourth part of the allocution, the Vicar of Christ told his listeners that the life he had outlined for them in the foregoing parts would, open up to them a truly celestial life. He concluded by urging his listeners to love the cross and by expressing th~ hope that the cross might become for them a source of strength, an inspiration for prayer, and the secret of peace. Conclusion of the Synod On January 31, 1960, there was held the solemn .conclusion of the Synod, at which the Holy Father delivered one last allocution (pp. 285- 96). In the allocution he assured the people of Rome that the Synod had been a great manifestation of spiritual vigor and that the chief fruits of the Synod should be an increased exercise of a strong faith which is eager to propagate itself, of an unconquered hope which spurns the prevalent error that man's only paradise is to be on earth, and of a generous charity which is ready to put down its life for others. He also spoke of his hopes for the coming ecumenical council, and concluded by recommending three forms of piety: devotion to the Name, the Heart, and the Blood of Christ. After this allocution Archbishop (now Cardinal) Traglia expressed to the Holy Father the gratitude of the Roman clergy and people for the Synod (pp. 307-8). In reply (pp. 308-9) the Pope gave thanks to God for the success of the Synod and expressed his appreciation of those who had worked for the successful conclusion of the Synod. The Synod was then solemnly closed. At the end of the account of the Synod, AAS noted that the statutes of the Synod would be published later and separately. The Consistory On March 28 and 31, 1960, were held three consistories for the elevation of nine new cardinals. In the first and secret consistory of March 28, 1960 (pp. 321-32), Cardinal Micara was made Camerario of the Sacred College, succeeding" Cardinal Tisserant in this office. After-wards John XXIII delivered an allocution to the assembled cardinals in which he nbted the continuing persecution of the Church in certain parts of the world. He also adverted to the successful completion of the 297 R. F. SMITH Review far Religious Roman Synod and stated that plans for the coming ecumenical council were proceeding satisfactorily. He also asserted that the nihe cardinals to be made' in this consistory would enlarge the Sacred Collegn geo-graphically as weI[ as numer~cal[y; such an enlargement, he said, would be an illustration of the text: "Going into the entire world, preach the gospel to every creature" (Mk 16:15). A~ter the alldcution the Pope then created eight cardinals of the order of priest and one of the order of deacon. Thereafter hierarchical appointments since the last consistory were read off; the Cardinals con-sidered the canonization causeof Blessed John de Ribera; and the Con-sistory was terminated with postulations for the pallium. The second and public consistory was held on March 31, 1960 (pp. 339.-34). At this consistory the Pope placed the red hat on the new cardinals and asked the opinion of the Cardinals on the canonization of Blessed John de Ribera. On the same day the third and secret con-sistory was held (pp. 334-35). At this consistory the most recent h~er-arcbJcal appointments were announced and the new cardinals were as-signed their churches in Rome. Liturgical Matters On March 21, 1960 (pp. 355-56), the Holy Office responded to the question as to whether recent documents of Eucharistic discipline (Christus Dominus of January 6, 1953; the Monltum of Marcia 22, 1955; and Sacram Communionem of March 19, 1957) had abrogated the pro-vision of canon 867, paragraph 4, where if is stated that the distribution of Holy Communion outside of the hours when Mass can be. said is forbidden, unless, a reasonable cause exists. In reply the Holy Office said that the new legislation had not abrogated the paragr~iph in question, but that, given the mitigations in the Eucharistic fast, reasonable causes would occur with greater difficulty. However, since such causes can not be excluded and since evening Masses are not always and everywhere po.ssible, the document gives local ordinaries the power to permit the afternoon distribution of Communion at some function other than Mass. Such a permission can be granted .to both parochial and non-parochial churches as well as to the oratories in hospitals, prisons, and colleges. .On March 9, 1960 (p." 360), a decree of the Sacred Congregation of Rites stated that the Leonine prayers usually said after low Masses may be omitted in the following cases: (1) a~ter a nuptial Mass and after a Mass said on the occasion of first Communion, a general Com-munion, a confirmation, ordination, or religious profession; .(2) when another function or pious exercise immediately follows the Mass; (3) when a homily is had during the Mass; (4) when on Sundays and feast-days a dialogue Mass is had. The decree also gives local ordinaries the power to permit the recitation of the Leonine prayers in the vernacular according to a text to be approved by themselves. 298 September', 1960 ROMAN DOCUMENTS The same Congregation also announced the inclusion of a new prayer in the prayers of thanksgiving a/ter Mass of the Roman Missal. The text of the prayer, its place in the Missal, and the indulgences attached to its recital are given on pages 257-58 of this issue of the REWEW. Miscellaneous Matters On March 25, 1960 (pp. 344-49), the Holy Father addressed the superiors general of religious institutes of men and women. The subject of his talk was that of the religious difficulties of Latin America. He called for a coordination of all the energies of the Church for the sake of .greater efllcacy in. meeting the challenge of Latin .America. He asked that as many persons as possible be sent to Latin America, saying that the future of the. Church in Latin America is rich in promise, but the harvest needs priests, religious men and women, and an ardent laity. On April 10, 1960 (pp. 339-43), the Holy Father delivered a homily based on the liturgy of Palm Sunday. The day, he said, recalls the certain and peaceful triumph of Christ in innocent and good souls; how-ever, it also recalls that Christ's. procession of palms was the beginning of His journey to crucifixion. Accordingly he expressed the profound sorrow that. fills his heart at the continued and terrible persecution of the Church of Silence. On March 22, 1960 (pp. 343-44), the Pontiff addressed the Inter-national Committee of the Neutrality of Medicine, lauding their efforts to limit the terrible effects of armed conflict. On April 12, 1960 (pp. 352-53), he spoke to the memberi of the Committee of Public Health of the Western European Union, remarking on the great importance of the topics .they were currently studying. On April 2, 1960 (pp. 349-50), John XXIII gave an allocution to members of the International Association of the Sport Press. He noted the importance of sport in the world today and remarked that the widespread practice of sport on Sundays need not conflict with the religious duties of thht day; in. fact, he remarked, it is conformed to .the divine law that after man has given God what is His, he should seek a legitimate recreation for his body and soul. He advised his listeners to give sport its exact place in the scale of human values as a useful instrument in the complete and harmonious, develop-ment of the personality. But its importance should 'not be exaggerated nor should attention be placed only on physical values. Under the date of February 9, 1960 (pp. 353-54), the Vicar of Christ sent a written message to the hierarchy of the United States on the annual Laetare Sunday collection for charity. By the apostolic letter, Diuturno usu, of February 2,' 1960 (p. 338),. Pope John created an apostolic internuntiature in Turkey. On April 11, 1960 (p. 351), he de-livered an allocution welcoming the first ambassador of Turkey to the Holy S~e. 299 Views, News, Previews T HE UNION of Women Major Superiors of France has published a volume listing as many as possible of the institutes of religious women that exist in France. The volume is entitled Annuaire des Instituts de Religieuses en France (Handbook of the Institutes of Re-ligious Wora~n in France) and was published at Paris in 1959 by the Centre de Documentation Sacerdotale. The institutes are given in alpha-betical order; for ea6h institute the following Lrfformation is provided: purpose of the institute, its type of spirituality, its canonical status, its organ!zation and government, its plan of formation, its principal activities, a select bibliography of the institute; and a list of addresses of the institute's principal houses. At the end are given three long appendices. The first of these gives an alphabetical list of associations and pious unions for women in France and for each provides much the same in-formation as for religious institutes. The second appendix lists all the institutes aecord!ng to their canonical status of religious order, pontifical congregation, diocesan congregation, pontifical secular institute, diocesan secular institute, or association and pious union. The final appendix lists all the institutes and associations in terms of their principal work. The Annuaire described above was modeled on a similar work, Dictionnaire des Institutes de ReIigieux en Franc~ (Dictionary of the Institutes of Religious. Men in France); the Dictionary, which was pub-lished in 1957, lists the religious institutes of men alphabetically and gives the same information for each as the Handbook does for women's institutes. Both the Handbook and the Dictionary may be purchased from the following address: Centre de Documentation Sacerdotale 19, rue de Varenne Paris 7, France At the beginning of 1960 a new ascetical quarterly began publica-tion. Entitled Revista Agustiniana de Espiritualidad, it intends to provide its readers with an insight into the spirit and religious dimensions of St. Augustine. The magazine costs $1.80 a year and may be ordered from: Revista' Agustinian.a de Espiritualidad Avenida de la Estaci6n, 11 Calahorra (Lggrofio) Spain Another ascetical magazine will begin publication in January, 1961. Its title is to be The Way and it will be published by English Jesuits. 300 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS The aim of The Way will be to help priests, religious, and lay folk in English-speaking countries to a better understanding of the interior life in the modem world and against the background of Scripture and the Liturgy. The new quarterly will cost $5.00 a year; all subscriptions must be sent direct to the following address: The Way 31 Farm Street London, W 1 England Questions and Answers The following questions and answers are a continuation of the series on local houses and local superiors which was begun in the March, 1960, issue of the REWEW. 36. Our religious college is, erecting a new building, which will not be completed for a year and a half. Will the Holy See grant a dispensation for the.local superior to have a third immediate three-year term? This local superior planned the building and is the only one who is completely conversant with all the details of this work. Yes. For serious reasons, for example, the completion of the erection of a building, the Holy See will grant a dispensation and permit a religious to govern the same house for more than six successive years. In extra-ordinary circumstances, such as war, when local superiors cannot be changed, the law ceases to oblige; and a local ~uperior may validly and licitly govern the same house for more than. two full three-year terms. 37. Our congregation of sisters has one college. The local superior is also president of the college. It is evidently not easy to find a com-petent religious for this post every six years. What is your solution of this evident and, I believe, common problem of religious institutes? Canon 505 imposes a temporary tenure of office on the superior of the religious community as such, that is, under the aspect of the one who governs the community in its religious life. That this is the sense of the law is. evident from the fact that the canon is universal and thus includes houses also of contemplative congregat?ions. The same sense is dear from the reply of the Code Commission, June 3, 1918, which states that the limitations of canon 505 apply to religious at the head of works of the institute "having other religious under their authority also as regards religious discipline" (Bouscaren, Canon Law Digest, I, 275). The canon therefore is in no way opposed to permanence in the one who is ~t the head of the external work~ of the house, for example, principles, deans, presidents of colleges and universities, administrators of hospitals, and so forth. Perman6nce is at 301 ~UESTION~ AND ANSWERS Review ]or Religious least very often desirable in these officials, for example, because of the difficulty and complexity of the office, the wonderment-caused to extems by the apparently ~ormalistic change of competent officials, the lack of other qualified religious, and especially because the amount and nature of the work of such officials often make it simply impossible for them to give sufficient attention, time, and energy to the government of th~ reli-gious community. It is also true in some cases that even an outstanding official of this type is not a good religious superior. Religious institutes should therefore study more carefully the separation of such offices from that of local superior, especially in the cases of presidents of dolleges and universities and administrators of hospitals. This difficulty is habitual, not occasional. Therefore, it is not solved by the opinion of some authors who recommend a petition for a dispensation in such cases. Furthermore, this would maintain the same .superior over the religious life of the community beyond the time permitted by canon 505; and experience proves that this is at least ordinarily not a good thing. Cf. REWEW FOa KELmIOUS, 10 (1951), 197. 38. Is the term of a local superior computed in the same way as tl~e canonical year of noviceship, thus ending on the day after the an-niversary day (January 10, 1960 - January 11, 1963); or does it end on the anniversary day, as in the case of temporary profession (January i0, 1960 - January 10, 1963)? The duration of a term of office is computed in the same way as tem-porary profession and thus according to the norm of canon 34, § 3, 5°, that is, a three-year term begun on January 10, 1960, expires on January 10, 1963. If the superior has not been reappointed nor his successor ap-pointed, the term expires at midnight of January 10-11, 1963. The term may also be computed from chapter to chapter, even if the subsequent chapter is not held on the same day, when the local superiors are elected in a general or provincial chapter, which is practically never done in lay congregations, or are appointed immediately after such a chapter, as is done in a very small number of such congregations. A few constitutions enac( that a superiorship expiring within the school year is automatically prolonged until the end of the school term. Some institutes automatically prolong the term of local superiors expiring after the convocation of the general chapter until after the close of this or the provincial chapter. The duration of other offices is also computed in the same way. For example, if a superior general is elected for a six-year term on August 1. 1960, the next election is to take place at any hour on August 1, 1966. If the election does not take place on the latter date, his term of office expires at midnight of August 1-2, 1966. Cf. Van Hove: III De Consuetu-dine, De Supputatione Temporis, n. 314; Vermeersch-Creusen, Epitome Iuris Canonici, I, n. 149; Larraona, Commentarium Pro Religiosis, 7 (1926), 380; Goyeneche, Quaestiones Canonicae, I, 137. 302 September, 1960 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Unless the constitutions, customs, or usage states otherwise, the term of office begins more probably on the date of the document of appoint-ment rather than on the day when the religious actually assumes the office. The constitutions of lay congregations usually enact that the term begins and that of the predecessor ends on the day the religious assumes office or, what is the same thing, on which the letter of his appointment is read to the community he is to govern. Only a very small number of constitu-tions declare that the term begins to run from the date of the letter of appointment. 39. A religious was appointed local superior. He was engaged in summer work that delayed his assumption of the office for three weeks beyond the expiration of the term of the former local superior. Who was the superior of the community during these three weeks? The constitutions usually sta~e that a superior, on the expiration of his term, continues to govern the community until his own reappointment or the appointment of his successor is effective. This may also be e~tablished by the custom or usage of the institute. Otherwise, and even if this power is not explicitly granted in the constitutions, the competent higher superior, for a proportionate reason, may extend the term for a brief period until the reappointment or appointment is effective. In these cases, the former local superior governs Under the title of vicar. If neither of these methods of prolongation is verified, the government of the community passes to the local assistant. This is the better opinion, because the term of the former superior has expired and was not prolonged. However, Creusen holds that the local superior always continues to govern the community in such a case (Religious Men and Women in Church Law, n. 67). This opinion may be followed, because it is in conformity with the practice of the Holy See in approving constitutions. The prolongation of the term of the former superior or the tenure of the local assistant as vicar should not be prolonged be-yond six monks after the vacancy of the office, that is, after the expiration of the term. This is the prescription of canon 155 for offices in the strict sense, which from analogy should be applied also to offices in lay institutes. 40. During my tenure of office, it has happened on more than one occasion that a local superior got sick, for example, he was hospitalized for one to three months. In such cases, do I, the. immediate higher superior, have the power to name an acting local superior? The constitutions of lay institutes practically always enact that the assistanti under the title of vicar, is to assume the office of ~uperior, whether general, provincial, or local, when the offices becomes vacant or the superior, because of sickness, absence, or other reasons, is unable to exercise the office. Since these constitutions determine the substitute, higher superiors may not ordinarily appoint another religious as vicar or acting superior in such circumstances. They may do this for an extraordinary reason, for example, when the assistant does not possess the health or 303 ~UESTION~ AND ANSWERS Review ]or Religious capability to govern. They may also do it if such a power is expressly given them in the constitutions. Some constitution.s of lay congregations explicitly state that the competent higher superior may always appoint a religious of his own choice at least as local vicar or local acting superior. They may ob~,iousIy do this also when the constitutions do not specify that the assistant is to assume the government in such circumstances. Cf. Goyeneche, Quaestiones Canonicae, I, 146:49. 41. What is the duration of the term and the permissible reappoint-meitt of the religious in charge of a filial house? Canon law has no enactment on the term of office or immediate re-appointment of the religious in charge of a filial house. Therefore, it apper-tains to the constitutions to enact whether he is appointed for a determined term, which may be less or more than three years, for no determined term, and to what extent he may be immediately reappointed or for how long he may continuously govern the same filial house. The constitUtions of lay institutes rarely contain any legislation on this point, and the whole. matter is therefore determined by custom, usage, or the will of the higher superior. Several authors follow Vermersch in stating it to be the mind of the Holy See that the same religious should not have this office in the same filial house for more than three successive three-year terms or more than nine consecutive years. This is at least a solid practical norm, but it has by no means been included in all constitutions approved by the Holy See that mentioh filial houses. Vermeersch, Periodica, 17 (1928), 90*. 42. Because of his 'poor health, the novice master must be removed. May we appoint to this post a religious who is now a local superior and who has not completed his present term of office? Yes. It is a principle of law that a superior or official who has been appointed for a determined period of time may not be removed or trans-ferred before the expiration of that period unless for a just and serious reason (el. c. 560). Such reasons are poor health, the need of the religious in another important post, his'serious incompetency, bad example, and excessive severity or weakness. The post of a novice master is evidently important and justifies the removal of a local superior before the expira-tion of his "term: ' .43. Do appointed superiors and officials have the right of resigning their office? From the law of their constitutions, custom, or usage, the more com-mon practice in lay institutes is that an appointed superior or official, for example, a provincial or local superior, may not resign his office but has only the common right of representation, that is, of giving reasons for being relieved of his office. Some constitutions expressly grant provincial and local superiors the right of resigning. If resignation is neither granted nor excluded in the law or usage of the institute,, a superior has the right of resignation (c. 184). It is forbidden to make or accept a resignation with- 304 September, 1960 BOOK REVIEWS out a iust and proportionate reason (cc. 184; 189, § 1). Since the com-petent higher superior may reject as insufficient the reasons given for a resignation, a resignation will in fact not differ from the right of represen-tation described above. Many constitutions of Dominican sisters enact that a local superior who is habitually prevented from fulfilling the common exercises because of ill health is to resign her office, if there is no hope of recovery within six months. If she does not resign, she is to be removed from ofllce. The authority competent for the transfer, removal, or accept-ance of the resignation of a local superior is ordinarily the superior general with the consent of his council, after a request by the provincial with the same vote of his council. Some constitutions give this right to the latter with the consent of his Council, but the act must be confirmed by the superior general with the same vote of his council. 44. Our constitutions state merely that the local superior has the authority to govern his house. What exactly is the authority of a local superior? A local superior is not a mere delegate of a higher superior and possessed only of the authority that the latter delegates to him. The reli-gious at the head of a filial house is a mere delegate (cf. Question 6). In virtue of canons 501, § 1, and 502, the superior of a canonically erected house possesses ordinary authority, that is, authority conferred by canon law and the constitutions. He therefore has full authority to govern his house except for matters reserved to higher authorities (Holy See,' local ordinaries, general chapter, higher superiors), that demand any type of recourse to these (dispensation, confirmationl consent, advice), or that require the consent or advice of his council. The local superior should maintain close contact with higher superiors, especially his immediate higher superior, and consult them on all matters that are unusually serious, difficult, or important. He should also consult his council on more important matters, even when the code or the constitutions do not prescribe con-sultation on the individual matter. Book Reviews [Material for this department should be sent to the Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana.] THE CHURCH IN THE THEOLOGY OF ST. PAUL. By Lucien Cerfaux. Translated by Geoffrey Webb and Adrian Walker. New York: Herder and Herder, 1959. Pp. 419. $6.50. Cerfaux says in his introduction: "The object of'the present study is the notion of the Church in Paul's theology, rather than its historical realization in his time. Thus I shall not give a great deal of space to discussing questions connected with the Church's organization, the aposto- 305 BOOK REVIEWS Review ]or Religious late, the sacraments, etc. All I propose to offer is an essay in Pauline theology, aiming at the underlying synthesis of the epistles. Paul's theology grew out of Judaism and primitive Christianity." Cerfaux's point that Paul's theology developed is so important that it may be considered cardinal. In view of this, the three books into which this volume is divided are based upon three different sources. Book I considers how Paul integrated into his theology many Old .Testament expressions origin-ally applied to the nation of Israel and how he applied these to the community of Christians. These expressions determined the direction of primitive ecclesiology, particularly St. Paul's. Book II, using "Christian Experience" as found in the major epistles (Galatians, 1 and 2 C~r-inthians, Romans) as its source, studies Paul's theology of the Church. as developed by the time of their completion. Book III studies Paul's theology as it reached its final stage of development, the "Idealized Church" as found in the captivity epistles .(Philippians, Ephesians, Colos-sian~, Philemon) with emphasis on Ephesians and Colossians. In his study of the origin anal development of Pauline expressions, Cerfaux shows that "God's people," a Jewish idea, is basic to Paul's theology of the Church. The community of Christians are "God's new people." This community is the ekklesia (church), a wsrd whose meaning also evolved. It did not have th~ same meaning for Paul in the major epistles as it had in the captivity epistles. At first he used it for local churches. "In the first letter to the Corinthians, it was tending to become disconnected from the local churches." Only in the captivity epistles, and especially in' the "mystery" texts, can we say that Paul sometimes clearly means the universal Church when he writes ekklesia. Only in these epistles does he develop the idea that the Church is not only terrestrial, but also a "celestial thing," the heavenly bride of Christ. Nor do we find the texts for the doctrine that the Church is the mystical body of Christ until the captivity epistles~ A prominent place is ~iven to the discussion of the phrase "body of Christ," which passed through a transition from the physical sense of the word to a collective sense. In the major epistles "the. body of Christ" refers to the earthly body of Christ with which Christ suffered and died for us, now present in the Eucharist as a bond of unity for . Christianity. In the captivity epistles "the body of Christ" refers first to the risen body of Christ as it is in heaven, the source of sanctifi-cation for all Christians, and, second, to the "body" of Christians who compose the Church, which is "an extension of Christ." The relation of the physical body of Christ to the Church, the "body" 'of Christ, is that of mystical identity. Other important themes discussed are: Christ as "head of the Church," an expression which Paul used to describe Christ's influence on Christians; the "mystery of Christ," which has a. two-fold interest: cosmic, Christ's domination over the universe, and oecumenical, the unity of Jewish and gentile Christians in Christ. This is not a work of popularization, but will be of special interest to those making scientific studies of the Church. Such scholars will find the many references to Sacred Scripture and direct quotations from the Greek text useful. Other aids to the scholar ar~ the bibliography, 3O6 September, 1960 BOOK REVIEWS index of all biblical references, author and subject indices. Short sum-maries and particularly the excelleht eight-page general synopsis found at the end of the book are also helpful. It may be that some readers will be disappointed to find no use made of the pastoral epistles in understanding Paul's developing syn-thesis concerning the Church. Since Christian experience is the touch-stone throughout Cerfaux's treatment, the experience manifested in the pastorals would seem necessary for a complete synthesis. Sections where the. author is explaining rather than proving often supply insights that ~vill delight any Christian, for example where the author gives Paul's thoughts on the unity of Christians through the Eucharist. These will come as a welcome relief to the ordinary reader, for whom the rather complex arguments may be difficult to grasp. However, even fbr one who is not studying theology on the professional level, the book has much to offer. Such a reader can deepen his spiritual life by learning more about the Church and the Pauline fdundations for saying that the Church is the mystical body of Christ. I~CZ~aD J. MmDENDOI~', S.J. PROCEEDINGS OF .THE 1958 SISTERS INSTITUTE OF SPIRITUAL-ITY. Edited by Joseph E. Haley, C.S.C. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1959. Pp. 315. $4.00. Under the sub-title of "The Role of Authority in the Adaptation of the Religious Community for the Apostolate," seven lecturers (besides two members of the hierarchy) examine as many aspects of the current, pressing problems that face our American sisterhoods in their efforts to meet the rising demands for their services in the .Church's apostolate, while¯ maintaining a steady balance between the obligations of personal sanctity and the duties of Christian charity. Bishop Shehan of Bridgeport s~t the tone for the institute by pointing up the grave crisis' in Latin America where, he felt, religious women from the States are offered¯the chance to duplicate their achievement in this count~:y. In his closing address, Bishop Marling, C.PP.S., of Jefferson City emphasized the need that religious have to keep their eyes fixed on their founder if they would avoid extremes on the side of immutability or adaptability, as they undertake the delicate task of adjusting themselves to the pressures of the modern world. Between these two addresses were three principal studies of the problem, sociologically by Joseph H. Fichter, S.J., ascetically by Lou

Issue 66.1 of the Review for Religious, 2007. ; ' Spiritu:alilty Perspectives Community Tod:ay~s Saint QUARTERLY 66.1 2007 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the" holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul Vl said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: ~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 ° Pontifical College Josephinum 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ RO. 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. ©2007 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. eview for religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff l~ebmaster Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell 0SB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Clare Boehmer ASC Martin Erspamer OSB Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ QUARTERLY 66.1 2007 contents prisms 4 Prisms 19 spirituality Aging and Christian Spirituality: Joy and Resignation Matthias Neuman OSB explores two challenges of aging, namel.v, the ability to enjoy and the need of resignation. Dreams in Prayer and Discernment Jennifer Constantine Jackson examines the human experience of dreams as one resource from the Lord that can assist us on ¯ the road to spiritual maturity. Reflection/Discussion Questions 3O perspectives Confessions of a Franciscan Ethicist Rende Mirkes O~'S shows how being Franciscan can and does affect the way she does ethics. Review for Religious 40 58 Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue Colleen Mary Mallon OP explores dialogical communion, from the writings of the French Dominican Yves Congar, and reflects upon specific practices of discipleship that promise to deepen communal conversion while offering prophetic witness to a global world. Personal Reflection/Group Discussion community Rose Hoover RC says that being together on the inward journey is a subtly rigorous togetherness not to be missed. 64 An Experience of Jesus and His Brothers Robert Schieler FSC describes his congregation's Holy Week retreat in which three provinces saw a happily workable way to be energetically together as one. 74 today's saint Mother's Quest and Bequest: Theodore Guerin's Sainthood Mary Roger Madden SP provides a historical vignette of her congregation's recently canonized American foundress to show the greatness of her spiritual bequest. departments 90 Scripture Scope: The Bible and the Church 95 Canonical Counsel: Bona Ecclesiastica 101 Book Reviews 66.1 2007 prisms Do I want to be holy? When we ask our-selves the question, the answer would seem to be obvious. Since we believe in God and we want to enjoy life forever with God, we are trying to be holy. Probably many of us would find it a bit pretentious to say that right now we are making the effort to be holy. Why is it so off-putting for us to admit simply that we want to be holy? Trying to be holy sounds, well, sanctimonious. We judge that we are priding ourselves on some-thing we are not. We don't want to be people setting ourselves down at the head of the table in Jesus' parable, only to be told to take a lower place. All too often we think that to be holy includes all the things that we are not: unfail-ingly pious, always prayerful, never offensive, and ever patient and long-suffering. Perhaps images like the eyes-rolled-up to heaven, the hands folded, and the pallid face featured in many portraits of our saints hold us off from identifying with holiness. We likely need a reevaluation of what it means to be holy. God is the holy One. If God is by nature holy, then we are not naturally holy. But God calls us to be holy and empowers us to "be holy as I am holy." In the sacramental life, we identify these key empowerments in baptism, confirmation, and eucharist. God the Father, in the identifying of us with his Son and in the gift-ing of their Spirit, has truly made us sons and daughters. Being part of God's family--the ones adopted in Jesus' name--we merit being called holy ones, the saints as St. Paul frequently refers to his fellow Christians in the various churches to whom he writes his letters. Review for Religqous We might believe that we are called to be holy, in fact, that we are children of God. But what we are and how we act might be two different things. What does it mean for us to act like holy persons? Jesus is our way that we come to understand and live a divine holiness. Holiness, above all, is rooted in our love relationship with our triune God in Jesus. By watching Jesus in action, we discover how we are to live and act holily. Let's take some examples that we ordinarily do not associate with holiness. Jesus lives his holiness in his presence and in his participation in parties such as the Cana wedding feast and in banquets of all kinds, sometimes held in houses of those consid-ered public sinners such as Matthew and Zacchaeus and at other times in the homes of his pious "betters"--like Simon the Pharisee. Holiness, we see, is made real and strengthened in enjoying life, like parties and banquets. In all kinds of circumstances, Jesus expresses holiness in breaking the rules--usually surrounding Sabbath obser-vances- because of his compassion and love. Jesus, we see, teaches us that holiness is not to be identified just with "keeping the rules." Priests and Levites--good peo-ple- kept the rules of not contaminating themselves by helping a wounded traveler, but it was the foreigner, a false-believing Samaritan, who acted holily. Jesus says that we must act as one who loves neighbor as oneself. Jesus shows us that holiness grows in the conversations and interactions with all different classes of people, sometimes with people who think quite differently from him--the ways of Jesus' ministering in the gospels. Jesus shows us that dealing with others who think differently from us is a part of our being holy. Simply said, to live holily, as Jesus shows us, is to live an everyday kind of life, graced always by the love of God and love of neighbor. David L. Fleming SJ 66.1 2007 MATTHIAS NEUMAN Aging and Christian Spirituality: Joy and Resignation spirituality Aging, that universal human experience, is one of life's great mysteries. Why the various stages in the human life cycle: infancy, childhood, ado-lescence, adulthood, and old age? Why should human life be like that? Why do we grow up and then slowly break down, piece by piece, until death comes for us? Our creative God could have arranged matters differently. But the real-ity remains that human life, unless tragically cut short, ends with old age, dissolution, and death-- years that people often find extremely troubling. Old age is where aging really hits home. Aging, especially the last phase, "old age," has become a major social issue for many Western countries. The graying of populations looms in many of them as a social and economic issue. The recent report of the President's Council on Bioethics, Taking Care: Ethical Caregiving in our Aging Society, puts it pointedly: Matthias Neuman OSB has written for us often. His pres-ent address is Our Lady of Grace Monastery; 1414 Southern Avenue; Beech Grove, Indiana 46107. Review for Religious There is no question that we are on the threshold of a "mass geriatric society.," a society of more long-lived individuals than ever before in human history. For this great gift of longer and healthier life for ourselves and our loved ones we are, and should be, enormously grateful . At the same time, however, there are good reasons to be concerned about the human and moral shape that a mass geriatric society will take, especially if the "price" many people pay for the added years of healthier life is a period of protracted debility, demen-tia, and dependence stacked up at the end before they eventually die. Such a reshaping of the life cycle will create enormous challenges for nearly every family and for the entire society.! The Catholic ethicist Daniel Callahan pinpoints some of those troubling issues. By 2030 almost 20 percent of the American population will be over 65; the combined costs of Medicare and Medicaid will double; close to half of those over 85 will suffer from some form of dementia. He says: "The projected long-term institutional costs alone, quite apart from medical expenses, will be astronomical.''2 Aging also appears as an increasing pastoral care issue for the church. The 1999 document of the Pontifical Council for the Laity, "The Dignity of Older People and Their Mission in the Church and in the World," says that the increasing number of aging people in the developed coun-tries of the world will cause some significant shifts in the style and opportunities for pastoral care: The ecclesial community, for its part, is called to respond to the great participation which older people would like to have ih the church by turning to account the "gift" they represent as witnesses of the tradition of fai.th, teachers of the wisdom of life, and workers of charity. [The Church] must therefore reexamine its apostolate on behalf of older people, and open it up to their participation and collaboration.3 66.1 2007 Neuman ¯ Aging and Christian Spirituality Aging doqs not need o be a series of losses th'a can only be eiid ¢ed::i In this article I explore two challenges that aging pres-ents for Christian spirituality. These challenges touch individuals, families, parishes, and the church as a whole. Aging does not need to be a series of losses that can only be endured. Indeed, it offers genuine possibilities for spiritual growth. I came to be interested in this topic for several rea-sons. Seven years ago my father fell on some ice and broke his hip. He never really recovered from that, and spent his last two years in a nursing home. In those two years my parents, my sisters, and I talked much about the reality of nursing-home life, about how many things aging compels the elderly and their families to give up. A year after my father died, my mother fell inside her house and broke her hip. She recovered much better than he did. She had observed the nursing home firsthand and had no desire to go there: "The smells and the food would kill me for sure." Her great effort to do her therapy and avoid the nursing home enabled her (at age 86) to finish the rehabilitation program three weeks early. She was able to return home, but my sisters and I felt she needed a watchful presence around her more than a duplex could-provide. So she moved into a home for the elderly, and Ibecame chaplain for the Benedictine sisters who run the home. My mother and I walk together frequently, our conversations returning now and then to the trials and opportunities of aging. At ninety-two she feels them acutely. I must face my own aging too. At sixty-four, I have had to accept it for some time now. In the last twenty years, I have given up physically competitive sports; my Review for Religious football, baseball, and basketball gear were given away long ago. I still have golf and the treadmill, but the clock is ticking there too. For the last three years, back prob-lems have cut short my summer golf. What encouraged me more than anything else to do some spiritual reflection on aging was a little pam-phlet titled The Grace of Old Age by Father Vincent M. O'Flaherty SJ. He.wrote a series of reflections while a patient in a nursing home himself. His view of aging is special, and he provides some excellent thoughts on the spirituality of aging. Here is one: "When I look at my tensions from the point of view of detachment, I see that each tension is a fear of losing the power to enjoy one of the goods of this life. As a grace, aging is a slow death of the power of enjoying this world.''4 That last cuts deep. But, as Father O'Flaherty adds, it also makes more spiritual growth possible. But wherein does that spiritual growth consist? Throughout Christian history, old age has not stimulated a lot of sustained reli-gious thinking.5 In developed Western countries, that is due in part to the fact that, until the latter part of the 20th century, most people did not live to old age as we know it. In 1790 the U.S. population over age 65 comprised only two percent. By 1980 that was eleven percent, and in 2004 it was approaching fifteen. The President's Council on Bioethics says that the fastest-growing age group in the U.S. is "the oldest of the old (people age 85 or over).''6 In the last quarter century, the increasing percentage of older people has created much investigation into all aspects of growing older. But there is a counterbalance to this increasingly aging population. As the number of older persons in the U.S. increases, the inherent value of any one of them decreases. Previously the elderly's very "scarcity" was a value. A household with an elderly per-son, with someone who could tell the family's history, was 66.1 2007 Neuman ¯ Aging and Christian Spirituality considered honored and blessed. In our own day people are more likely to worry about how many older people there are and how they are going to be cared for. Both the joys and resignations, " of old agk can be seen~ hs ways of deepenin~ g onr . relationship with~ God. Perspective People generally have two ways of considering the onset of old age. Both appear in scientific as well as common thought, and both are mentioned by the Pontifical Commission's document "The Dignity of Older People.-7 The first way is to anticipate joys, to expect that each age possesses its own blessings, its own joys and achieve-ments. The last years of life offer particular graces: the joy of grandchildren, lessening responsibility, time for relaxation, oppor-tunity to do some things you always wanted to do. The Christian tradition often encouraged this, considering old age a blessing. The Bible provides some examples: "Gray hair is a crown of glow" (Pr 16:31). "You shall rise before the aged, and defer to the old" (Lv 19:32). Older persons are presumed wise, from their great store of life experience. A second way to deal with aging is resignation. This seems the predominant way. People work at accepting the inevitability of aging, and its conclusion. Aging always involves loss. People must give up many things along the way. At each stage of life, valuable and dear things are left behind. Resignation includes a fearful looking ahead to possible situations that one would rather not face. The fear of helplessness, of being a burden to others, remains Review for Religious extremely troubling for many people. With resignation, one tries to be ready for inevitable losses without becom-ing angry about them. There is a whole body of literature on "disengagement theory.''8 As they advance in age, most people probably experience some joy about their future and some resignation regarding things they fear. All of us have to learn the proper proportions for ourselves. This is a matter of our religious response. Both the joys and resignations of old age can be seen as ways of deepening our relationship with God. Enjoying Joys As people grow older, they do not lose their right to joy in life. They can still partake of joys and pleasures, simple though they may be. The church's teaching on pleasure and joy has not always been as positive as it might have been.9 From the perspective of Vatican Council II, people are beginning to see life's legitimate joys as our ini-tial sharing in the resurrection. A nursing-home resident make this point directly: "Despite pain, I am experiencing joy. If that is so, I am experiencing God. I am delighted to wake up in the morning, to have another day to experi-ence God in joy. The simplest things--the weather, the barren trees of winter, the sports scores, reading, staying in touch with families and friends--all give me joy. In all I find a taste of God. Yes, it is tough to grow old, but I have found joy that I did not know in my youth.''1° Some of the sharper slants of disengagement theory would urge the elderly to disengage themselves from any joys that keep them attached to this world. But a Christian spirituality would encourage older persons to enjoy what they still can. Indeed, other scholars of aging would assert that older people who are not too old can develop abili-ties that they never knew they possessed. Studies suggest that the brain's left and right hemispheres become better 66.1 2007 Neuman * Aging and Christian Spirituality integrated during middle age, making way for improved creativity in one's older years. Age also seems to dampen some negative emotions, making it easier to get rid of anger.1~ My own mother in her eighties developed a bet-ter attitude toward death than she ever had previously. It happens to others as well: An editor I know at a New York publishing company provides a case in point. He was in his sixties and con-templating retirement when he realized that he had finally matured into his job. Despite a sharp intellect and a passion for excellence, this man had spent much of his career alienating people with brusque, critical comments and a lack of sensitivity. Now . . . he was finally beginning to master interpersonal communica-tion. As his emotional development caught up to his intellectual development, he morphed from a brilliant but brittle loner into a mentor and a mediator of con-flicts . His best work was still ahead of him.12 This potential to be creative and surprising is some-thing that those who work with the elderly need to be more aware of. Often they do not give aging people a chance. Sometimes the elderly do not give themselves a chance. Learning new abilities, arriving at positions we could never previously attain, constitutes a great joy of one's older years. The Vatican document "The Dignity of Older People and Their Mission in the Church and in the World" urges that the legitimate charisms of older people be recognized. These gifts can be real blessings for the entire church.~3 The charism of disinterestedness, the ability to give some-thing or to give of themselves without any thought of return, is a special gift that older people can share with younger generations. Another charism of the elderly is memory, in particular carrying the past forward and creat-ing a shared identity for a family, a parish, or some other group. Similarly the charism of interdependence, the ability Review for Religious to overcome individualism and self-seeking and enter into genuine interactions with others, becomes very specific in the lives of the elderly. In many ways elderly people have a need of being interdependent. Their deeply felt awareness can teach :., ,-,, -. - o o., :::c~umauitz~te'sloysi~ndpteasures. nity, and integrity in being old and being old in public. That witness amazed many people, and there is much we still need to learn from it.~4 Let us consider some of the joys that are specific to old age. One is reminiscence--thinking back to the happy and satisfying events of one's life. That can surely be a genuine joy. My mother has often said that the vacations my family took together give her much to remember and delight in. (For twenty years we went on a week's vacation each summer.) Another joy as a person ages is to anticipate the contributions one can make by instructing a younger generation and see them grow to maturity, surely a joy for one who looks back on a lengthy teaching career. Father O'Flaherty reminds us that certain joys, although genuine, are limited: "Part of the confusion over the question of happiness in old age comes from a rela-tive definition of fun. Thus we might ask whether living in Sun City is fun. If we look at it from the point of view of entertainment, Sun City has everything. But we should not exaggerate fun in old age; it peaks out with grandma knitting in a rocking chair. Neither a young nor a mature man would be attracted by the fun in Sun City.''s 66.1 2007 Neuman ¯ Aging and Christian Spirituality Christian spirituality invites the aging to have a deeper appreciation of human life's joys and pleasures. There are created joys appropriate to each stage of life. These should be identified and savored, even or especially by the elderly. Here Christian spirituality can take a hint from Jewish spirituality: A characteristic attitude is taken up by the Talmud towards the pleasures of life. Recognizing that what has been created by God for man's enjoyment must be essen-tially good, it not only counsels men to indulge in them but even condemns those who abstain from them. The rabbis assume the standpoint that God wants his creatures to be happy, and it must therefore be sinful deliberately to shun physical happiness and material well-being.~6 Vghile traditional Christian spirituality would allow a much more positive place for asceticism, s011 there is room in Christian spirituality for legitimate joys and pleasures at each stage of life. This means acknowledging and delighting in the pleasures (a sunny day, an exciting sporting event, a glass of wine). Then, going a step fur-ther, it means giving praise to God for these gifts of joy. Enjoyment is a part of God's providence for us. Facing Resignations Enjoying what pleasures one can in old age is part of Christian spirituality. Nonetheless, at the center of a spirituality of aging remains the reality of facing the many resignations life demands. No matter how great the joys are that elderly people may delight in, acts of resigna-tion are perhaps unavoidably greater. Giving up various pleasures of life is a never-ending part of aging: driving at night, strenuous or agile physical movement, certain well-liked foods, traveling to visit distant friends. The list goes on and on. To recall clearly something you have loved to do for Review for Religious twenty, thirty, or forty years and say "No more" both scares and humbles. So, as Christians, how do we deal with these resignations in ourselves and in others? First we admit that they are difficult and frightening. People coping with them should be patient with themselves and with others. Instant or pat answers like "Christ gave up everything, so should you" can do more harm than good. Elizabeth Kiibler-Ross showed five stages that people may experience as death comes closer: denial, anger, bargain-ing, depression, and acceptance.~7 These may be present when people have to use a walker all the time for mobility or have to enter a nursing home. We can help people to acknowledge the pain and loss they feel; denial does not help. We can be there with them, what Sheila Cassidy has called a "Stabat Mater" spirituality, a simple, silent, stand-with-them presence.~8 After each acceptance of loss, people may feel a loss of integrity. To their mind they will seem to be "less," "needier," a "bother" to others. The helping spiritual task assists them to regain a connectedness with people and things, to help them see that their life still possesses a fundamental meaning and purpose, that their own inner life will always have value in sight of God and for those who love them. We think back to Father O'Flaherty's comment: "Aging is a slow death of the power of enjoying this world." In our later years, aging is dominated by physical and mental decline and the giving up of many pleasures. There is also the fear of facing significant pain; that takes serious resignation as well. Father O'Flaherty puts it well again: "Modern medicine has increased my tensions. I am on 'their' side when they prolong my pleasures, but I classify them among nay enemies when they propose to prolong my pains . My fear is that they would lengthen my three hours on the cross to six.''~9 66.1 2007 Neuman ¯ Aging and Christian Spirituality Vatican Council II's Constitution on the Church has some fine insights about offering our lives to God as spiritual sacrifices: "For all [the laity's] works, prayers, and apostolic undertakings, family and married life, daily work, relaxation of mind and body, if they are accom-plished in the Spirit--indeed even the hardships of life if patiently borne--all these become spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ" (§34). The chal-lenge is thus to see each resignation as a spiritual sacrifice. In their later years people offer their life's troubles. Their fragile and failing bodies and minds become gifts pleasing to God. Father O'Flaherty notes: "'vVhen a man gets old and his mind gets foggy, he cannot formulate flowery prayers. At the beginning of the countdown (age 65) he should start saying the prayer of simple presentation so that he will be in the habit of using it when his faculties are not keen. Just present yourself to God . Push your wheel-chair into the chapel and show your broken hip to our Lord. This throws the burden of giving you a cross on Almighty God. It is the resigned way of praying, with full resignation to the will of God.''2° " When people are young, faith shows itself in a lot of activity, vision, building. But in old age faith turns much more around seeking the peace of God. In facing the res-ignations of aging, giving up and faith are almost indistin-guishable. Sometimes all the elderly can do is bring their broken bodies as their spiritual sacrifice; that is their way of building the kingdom of God. The Constitution on the Church notes, too, that suf-fering can be a way to holiness. "In a special way also, those who are weighted down by poverty, infirmity, sick-ness and other hardships should realize that they are united to Christ, who suffers for the salvation of the world" (§41). In old age, that suffering becomes very real Review for Religion, s and sometimes omnipresent in aches and pains, some-times very severe pain. One of the challenges that aging presents to Christian spirituality is coming to believe and assert that pain in old age becomes a genuine prayer. In dealing with the many resignations of aging, we are always working toward that confession of Christ in the garden: "Not my will, but yours be done" (Mt 26:39). From a Christian perspective, that is the result of every resignation: it becomes a holy resignation, the offering of our lives as a spiritual sacrifice. Notes ~ President's Council on Bio-Ethics, 7~;king Care Ethical Caregiving in Our Aging Society (2005), pp. xvii-xviii. 2 "Curing, Caring, and Coping," America (30 January 2006): 13. 3 Pontifical Council for the Laity, "The Dignity of Older People and their Mission in the Church and in the Vqorld," in Autumn Blessings: Living Old Age in Faith (Little Sisters of the Poor Publications Office, n.d.), p. 43. 4 Vincent M. O'Flaherty SJ, The Grace of Old Age (Franciscan Herald Press, 1976), p. 31. s An overview of this topic may be perused in K. Brynolf Lyon, Toward a Practical Theology of Aging (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1985), "Aging and the Christian Theology Tradition," pp. 31-53. 6 Taking Care, p. 7. 7 Autumn Blessings, pp. 15-16. 8 Lyon, Toward a Practical Theology, pp. 64-66. ~ Jacques-Marie Pohier, "Pleasure and Christianity.," in Franz B6ckle and Jacques-Marie Pohier (eds.), Sexuality in Contempo~w~[y Catholicism (New York: Seabury Press, 1976), pp. 103-109. m Frank Moan SJ, "Prayer and Pain," America (19-26 June 2006): 19. ~ Gene Cohen, "The Myth of the Midlife Crisis," Newsweek (17 January 2006), p. 82. 12 Cohen, p. 12. ~s Autumn Blessings, pp. 18-20. ~4 Robert Proctor, "A Farewell to Remember: \~That John Paul II's Death Taught Us," Commonweal (3 June 2005): 19-25. ~s O'Flaherty, Grace, p. 20. 66.1 2007 Neuman ¯ Aging and Christian SpMtuality 1~ A. Cohen, Eve~yman's Ta&md (New York: Schocken Books, 1975), p. 230. ~7 Elizabeth Kiibler-Ross, On Death and Dying (Touchstone, 1969, 1997). ~s Sheila Cassidy, Sharing the Darkness (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1991), p. 66. ~90'Flaherty, Grace, p. 17. :o O'Flaherty, Grace, p. 55. via dolorosa it is their sorrow I bear yet they will never know how they have been beaten like a hanging rug stripped bare they are unaware of their nakedness and this is their anguish to thirst and not know why to bleed and not see the wounds Lou Ella Hickman IWBS Review for Religious JENNIFER CONSTANTINE JACKSON Dreams in Prayer and Discernment /~lthe past forty years, writings on Christian spiritu-ity, particularly on prayer and discernment, have given renewed attention to dreams (Doran 498). This article elucidates some movements in this area of study and then invites spiritual directors and discerners to make use of them in Ignatian spirituality. Dreams represent a way of true responsiveness, especially for the laity, to the church's call to an authentic obedience, an obedience that is at all times discerning and fulfilling God's will in the world (Lumen gentium, §37). Some of the earliest contributions to this recent attention to dreams are John A. Sanford's Dreams: God's Forgotten Language (1968) and Morton Kelsey's Dreams: The Dark Speech of the Spirit (1968). The key insight that begins with these works is captured in 1978 in Kelsey's Dreams: A Way to Listen to God (p. 9) and again in 1991 in his reflections on his teaching at the University of Notre Dame: "As I listened to my dreams, I found a presence Jennifer Constantine Jackson, a teacher, is currently a student of theology and Ignatian spirituality. Her address is 333A Harvard Street, Apt. 1A; Cambridge, Massachusetts 02139. 66.1 2007 Jackson * Dreams in Prayer and Discernment wiser than I trying to guide me through my difficulties to wholeness, a wholeness that was possible only when I con-tinued to be in touch with the infinitely loving Holy One" (God, Dreams, and Revelation, p. 213). Dreams take place within one's relationship with God. They invite listening in a process that seems to be initiated and sustained not by the dreamer but by God. Kelsey says that the current ambiguous, even fearful attitude about dreams in Christian spirituality is very dif-ferent from that of the first millennium of Christianity: "The early Christian church viewed the dream as one of the most significant and most important ways in which God revealed his will to human beings . We find this view in the Old Testament, in the New Testament, and in the church fathers up to the time of Aquinas" (God, Dreams, p. 17). Kelsey and others cite many church fathers acknowledging dreams as helpful for growing in relation-ship with God. In his response to the Epicureans' denial of this possibility, Tertullian "specificallysuggested that dreams have various levels of interpretation, and finally he asked, 'Now, who is such a stranger to human experi-ence as not sometimes to have perceived some truth in dreams?'" (109). Kelsey also cites the fathers' reservations concerning dreams in the life of faith. Clement details what must be the formation of one who interprets dreams (106), Origen says that evil spirits can enter dreams (108), and Gregory emphasizes the dangers for those not aware of the illusory nature of dreams (142). It is clear from these cautionary words that there was a shared under-standing that dreams must be discerned within faith. Concerning attentiveness to the needs of Christians today, Kelsey's emphasis on "wholeness" seems to be echoed in The New Dictionary of Catholic Spirituality. In its entry on "dreams," James L. Empereur SJ cites "the sig-nificance of dream work for spirituality and personal inte- Review for Religious gration" as "based on the conviction that every dream is in the service of wholeness through the integration of the inner and outer lives" (296). At the close of Empereur's four-page entry, the reader still wonders how the "service of wholeness" intentionally involves a participation in the life of the Trinity on the part of those involved in the work of dreams. In Spirituality in Depth: Essays in Honor of Sister Irene Dugan RC, Michael Cooper SJ's reflections on "A Spirituality of Balance" provide some assistance. Cooper says: "At the end of the 'discourse of antitheses,' the Beatitudes in Matthew, Jesus sums up all he has just said by exhorting his disciples, 'You must, therefore, be perfect, just as your heavenly Abba is perfect (Mt 5:48)'" (57). Contrary to the "strict and demanding tone" that the Greek word telios has often taken on, Cooper says that "the actual Greek New Testament meaning of telios is whole, complete, balanced!" (57). Herein lies a key to actualizing "that divine balance which lies at the heart of his gospel call to relationship and discipleship" (59). Highlighting the early communities devoted to religious life in the church, Cooper shows how an attentiveness to dreams in a community's faith life could contribute to this "divine balance": The hermits--male and female--lived alone but never too far from each other, so that they could cry out and be heard in case of threat or illness. Because of the isolation and sensory deprivation, some underwent the equivalent of today's Jungian analysis as their dreams and halluci-nations brought their demons and forgotten memories to the surface. Those who survived this descent into their own netherworlds and who were deeply grounded in their own humanity and in their own Christian faith eventually gained renown as wisdom figures. Individuals would come out to the desert to seek spiritual counsel and often stayed for weeks or months as they pursued their own spiritual conversion. (59) 66.1 2007 Jackson ¯ Dreams in Prayer and Discernment For those committed to religious life in the first centuries of Christianity, the fruits of attentiveness to dreams could be pursued successfully only through grace and only if the purpose was life in Christ. As Kelsey notes, this very purpose brought St. TMr~se of Lisieux spiritual consola-tion through her own dream near the end of her short life (God, Dreams, 164). Are these matters relevant to Ignatian spiritual direc-tors and discerners today? In a 1979 series of lectures on For those committed. to religifus life in thee first centuries of Christi~nity)_ the fruits, of attent, iveness to dreams could.~be pursued, Successfully only through grace only, if the .purpose. was life in,Chris "Jungian psychology and contemporary Christian spiritual-ity," published in Review for Religious, Robert Doran SJ noted that, reserva-tions about Jungian psychology notwith-standing, "there is much that we not only can, but indeed must, learn [from Jung] in developing both a theology and an ascesis of spiri-tual transformation in the context of the contemporary world" (499). Working in the tradition of Bernard Lonergan SJ, and noting as well Karl Rahner sJ'S work in Ignatian spirituality, Doran provides an essential guide especially in the matter of dreams and discernment. Doran found himself more and more convinced that "a psychological understanding of the development and flow-ering of human affectivity., is pertinent to our spiritual self-understanding" (857). Both spirituality ("grace, the Review for Religious supernatural, self-denial, the following of Christ" [858]) and psychology are involved in the "realm of interiority," which is also the reahn of dreams and desire (500). "It is the task of spiritual theology," he says, "to mediate these two conceptual worlds [spirituality and psychology], the one with the other, by taking its stand in interior experi-ence, which is the dimension to which both sets of con-cepts refer if they are talking about anything real" (858). Doran emphasizes such a task because of what he has noticed as two severe problematic positions concerning the relation of spirituality and psychology. The first is "the reduction of spirituality to psychology" (857), and the second, "a tendency, once, perhaps, pronounced in Christian spirituality, [and] still to be found," divorces "spirituality from psychology so completely that discern-ment itself becomes impossible . Such an orientation, when put into practice, leads to a split consciousness and a compartmentalized life" (858). The tendency toward this second extreme, he thinks, is because of an ambiguity concerning, in particular, the work of Carl Jung. Here lies Doran's important contri-bution. He precisely identifies Jung's contributions to an Ignatian discernment of spirits, and he shows clearly where Jung failed to be true to his own scientific method. How Jung contributes to spirituality, he says, is rather by "helping us to recognize inordinate projections and disoriented affections, than in orienting us positively to the God of Christian faith and to Christ"; for, in this area of faith, "Jung, I find, is quite deficient, and his thought derails him from the appropriate orientation to the real-ity of God" (858). Doran emphasizes that, if it is clear where Jung's thought fails, Jung's con(ributions can be much more fruitfully employed. And so he elaborates with a special concern for how a false appropriation of Jung can seriously affect an authentic discernment of spirits: 66.1 2007 Jackson ¯ Dreams in Prayer and Discernment Jung's theological ambiguities, and the alternative inter-pretations and evaluations that are offered of his work, are symptomatic of an underlying spiritual conflict that can be mediated only in the context of the dialectic of grace and of sin, of the standards of Christ and of Satan. David Burrell has indicated correctly that one cannot fail to meet God if one goes on the inner journey to individuation. But one will also meet much that is not God and that is even opposed to God. Not only does Jung not help one to discriminate these forces as they operate in the psyche, but he also contributes to and even encourages the confusion that can be experienced in such moments that call for discernment, and thus mires one in the conflictual forces that wage an ultimate battle in the depths of one's psyche. Jung's work, if left uncriticized, leads one into a psychological cul-de-sac that can assume demonic proportions. (499) Jung sees the issue of good and evil as something to be reconciled within the self, rather than acknowledging that the problem of evil remains and is not within our capacity to resolve. The only. solution can come from redemption, and redemption can come only from God, and God's exis-tence, knowledge, ~nd goodness are offered to us to be accepted or rejected: If we accept it, [it] will involve us in a whole new area of growth and transformation, an area which we would not even know in any explicit way if God had not come to meet us. This distinct area of development is related to our cognitional and mora.1 development. It is not the product of our knowing and our choosing. It is not something that we vainly imagine, or that we produce by wishful thinking. Rather, it is offered to our knowl-edge and our freedom as a gift. (501) Our acceptance of this gift means we are in the realm of "faith, which Lonergan defines as 'the eye of love,' the eye of the love that is ours, that is the atmosphere in which we live, when we know ourselves as uncondition- Review for Religious ally loved by, and rooted in, the love that is God's alone" (501). Any true attentiveness to dreams must take place in this context, where, as Rahner knew well in the tradition of Aquinas, "even in the direct vision of God, God will remain for us an incomprehensible mystery" (858). Now more than ever in history, says Doran with Rahner and Lonergan in the tradition of Ignatius, Christians long to see God and to know that God is the mystery that engulfs them and also to know what they are knowing and feeling. This, says Doran, involves not only self-transcendence, "an accepting of God's offer of both salvation and vocation," but also self-appropriation, which "is a matter of self-knowledge, of self-discovery, of self-understanding" in this acceptance (504) and which also constitutes for the Christian a commitment to prayer and discernment. He says that some factors of modern life make this self-appropriation necessary. His reason for seeing dreams as an important component in prayer and discernment, especially the discernment of spirits, is that they involve feelings, and, applying Lonergan's thought in the tradition of Ignatius, he says: To name one's feelings is to discover the dynamic images, the symbols, that are associated with them. To have insight into one's feelings is to understand the symbolic association. To tell one's stoW is to narrate the course of one's elemental symbolizing. And where does one's elemental symbolizing occur in its purest form, untainted by the biases that, in waking life, can lead us to distort our stow? The place . . . is in our dreams. It is in the dream that we first are conscious, and it is in the dream that we find a "stow" going for-ward that we cannot distort without being aware that we are doing so. If we want to know our "story"--the story of insight, the story of judgment, the stoW of decision, and the stoW of prayer--we can find it in our dreams. There is a psychic conversion that puts us into contact with that stoW. It affects us deeply once it has 66.1 2007 Jackson ¯ Dreams in Prayer and Discernment occurred. For it enables us to judge ourselves in our waking life as authentic or inauthentic in our pursuit of understanding, in our seeking of truth, in our decisions, and in our search for God. (510) Dreams offer one way of being attentive to this mystery that is God. The dreams from the lives of the saints come to mind, and their careful, caring, detached attentiveness to them serves as a model for all Christians committed to a life of prayer and discernment. Since a way is clear for an authentic use of Jung's con-tributions concerning dreams, how such contributions can be employed in the service of prayer and discern-ment should be regularly considered and shared. Maureen Dreams offeron way of being at tentiVe . to this mystery that i God.:. Conroy RSM attends to this question and begins to answer it (by reflect-ing on anima and animus in relation to desolation) in the final pages of her book where she reflects on contemporary issues in the ministry of spiri-tual direction (236-238). First and perhaps most important in aiding "the soul to rid itself of all inordinate attach-ments" (SpEx ~5), dreams can invite people to notice whether anything other than God is at the center of their life. Dreams brought to discernment can serve as personal parables, offered intimately by the Lord for the discerner to explore. Conroy gives instances where discerners on their own initiative mentioned dreams in speaking of their prayer difficulties. In one case, the dream helped the discerner realize that she was "playing God" by try-ing to control the events of her life at the time (182-183). In another case, the dreamer felt wounded by someone he may have been trying to substitute for God, a situa- Review for Religious tion causing unrecognized angers inside him (232). Both Conroy and William Barry SJ (God and You, 52-53) note that such emotions can block prayer. The dreams, then, would be ways that the Holy Spirit invites us to bring our lives to Christ. Kelsey reminds us that dreams come as "receptions"; in the New Testament, visitations are generally received with some fear--and with the message "Don't be afraid" (173). Dreams may offer the gift of spiritual consolation. In the final chapter of his Weeds among the Wheat, Thomas Green SJ describes a woman's dream after the death of her husband, a dream that is clearly a spiritual consolation for her (163-164). In the "afterglow" of the consolation, "it seemed to her that this experience of God's love, of confident hope in bereavement, could not be merely for herself alone, and that it must be the Lord's intention that she write about it and thus provide hope and strength to others similarly bereaved" (165). As Kelsey recounts the dream of St. Thdr~se of Lisieux (God, Dreams, 164), it is clear that her dream, too, was a gift of consolation from the Lord. Dreams can beg contemporary pray-ers to be listen-ers. Attending to dreams requires making time for listen-ing, and, in a culture where people are not easily "hit over the head" with Scripture (Shannon 8), dreams can teach us how to be more receptive to God's word. "Authentic silence," Shannon says, "is pregnant with words that will be born at the right time" (3). Authentic listening is con-nected to authentic vision; both are arts we need to cul-tivate if we wish to be open to the Holy Spirit. As Jules Toner SJ says in his commentary on being open to the Holy Spirit in the Spiritual Exercises, "there is a factor in openness to the Holy Spirit which . . . is closely related to readiness to seek counsel . Sometimes, even with-out our noticing it, one or other of [our] prejudgments 66.1 2007 Jackson ¯ Dreams in Prayer and Discernment 28 can play a major role in blinding us to the evidence for the decision to which the Holy Spirit is leading us" (96). Being open to the "evidence" of our dreams, and pray-ing for this openness, are authentic ways of becoming genuine listeners and persons of vision in every aspect of our lives. Dreams also can teach us to trust in the Lord. With dreams as with other data from our lives that we bring to discernment or direction, there are times when we simply cannot see and do not have the answers. The data of a dream may simply be too confusing or unclear. At these times discerners must wait and trust in the Lord. A renewed attention to dreams in Christian prayer and discernment is a way of true responsiveness, especially for laypersons, to the church's call to an authentic obedience. Thomas Green says that "religious congregations' ideas of common life and obedience have often been distorted in such a way as to canonize the annihilation of personality" (38). In our day, prayerful exploring of dreams may be unique expressions of the life of the Spirit in the church. This can be a new way for the laity to participate more integrally in the life of the church, a wonderful oppor-t- unity for a new level of sharing gifts. At the same time, we continue to be called to greater participation in the life of Christ, who Willingly took the cross so that we might share in his resurrection. If a greater attentiveness to dreams in prayer and discernment is going to achieve anything, may it be to give greater glory to God through a radical participation in the life of him who gave himself for us. Bibliography Barry, William A., SJ. God and You: Prayer as a Personal Relationship. New York: Paulist, 1987. Conroy, Maureen, RSM. The Discer~ting Heart: Discovering a Personal God. Chicago: Loyola, 1993. Review for Religious Cooper, Michael, SJ. "A Spirituality of Balance." In Spirituality in Depth: Essays in Honor of Sister h'ene Dugan RC, ed. Avis Clendenen. New York: Chiron Publications, 2004. Doran, Robert M., SJ. "Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality: I, II, and III." Review for Religious 38 (1979): 497-510, 742-752, and 857-866 respectively. Empereur, James L., SJ. "Dreams." In The New Dictionary of Catholic Spirituality, ed. Michael Downey. Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1993. Green, Thomas H., SJ. Weeds among the Wheat--Disce~vm~ent: Where Prayer and Action Meet. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1984. Kelsey, Morton T. God, Dreams, and Revelation: A Christian Interpretation of Dreams. Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1991. Shannon, William A. Seeking the Face of God. New York: Crossroad, 1988. Toner, Jules, sJ. Discerning God's Will: Ignatius of Loyola's Teaching on Christian Decision Making. St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1991. Reflection/Discussion Questions 1. What does it mean for me to listen to my dreams? 2. Have I had the experience of a dream influencing a significant change or decision in my life? What were the circumstances? 3. Can I relate to the statement "Dreams may offer the gift of spiritual consolation"? If so, let me review the experience. 66.1 2007 RENEE MIRKES Confessions of a Franciscan Ethicist perspectives Confessions are never easy. Typically, the stage is set by a .collage of eye-openers. In my case, the events that propelled me headlong into this pub-lic disclosure are interlaced with the common thread of what-it-means-to-be-a-Franciscan. First, some while ago, a new acquaintance of mine innocently asked, with clearly spoken ital-ics, "So, what's it like to be a Franciscan ethi-cist?" Second, for the last fifteen years or more I, together with all the members of my religious congregation, have been encouraged to immerse myself in, and be formed by, not only the ideals and vision of St. Francis of Assisi, but also the eponymous religious tradition fathered by him. And, third, while reading several months ear-lier Cardinal Ratzinger's 1996 address critiqu-ing moral relativism, I was revisited by an old uneasiness.~ I kept asking myself: Are you suffer- Ren6e Mirkes OFS, a Franciscan" Sister of Christian Charity, is ethics director at Paul Vl Institute; 6901 Mercy Road; Omaha, Nebraska 68106. Review for Religious ing from some kind of Franciscan schizophrenia or what? My difficulty, in a nutshell, was this. From one side, I was perfectly at peace with the fact that new pope's exposition confirmed me in the way I help my clients, students, and readers to identify the fallacies of moral subjecfivism. But, from another side, I was unsettled by realizing that my way, like the pope's, was not Franciscan in approach but Dominican and Thomistic. The first incident urges me to confess--t0 acknowl-edge- that until I was questioned I honestly never thought of making a practical connection between being an ethicist and being a Franciscan. The second experience encourages me to confess--t0 declare my si,l or failing--that I have dragged my feet when expressly recalling how Franciscan spirituality actually shapes the here-and-now manner in which I "do" ethics. The third episode prompts me to confess--t0 admit my belief--that Franciscans and Dominicans can learn a .lot from each other, specifically from the charisms of their respective traditions. For the details of this tripartite confession (and a summary critique of moral relativism to boot), I invite you to read on. I confess that I previously neglected to give seri-ous thought to whether my being a Franciscan could affect my ethics work. Learning from the lessons of life is a lot about making connections. And making con-nections is all about understanding what things mean. Before facing the question I began.with, I confess that "Franciscan" is not on.e of the adjectives I routinely used to describe my avocation. I was a Catholic ethicist; I was a Christia~? philosopher; I was an ethicist who is a vowed re/igio~ts. But I had just not taken that seemingly small step toward saying--and comprehending what it means to say--that I am a Francisca~z ethicist. In other words, before I did some careful analysis of the matter, being a 66.1 2007 Mirkes ¯ Confessions of a Franciscan Ethicist Franciscan was just a footnote of, rather than organically related to, my work as a vowed religious ethicist. So, wittingly or unwittingly, the questioner forced me to confront a real hiatus in my thinking and action. Why did I fail to connect the dots of being a Christian, an ethicist, and a Franciscan? The longer I thought about it, the more deeply convinced I became that the crux of my problem was not a rift between my avocation and vocation but my intellectual failure to link my Christian and consecrated-life vocations to my Franciscan calling. I was letting my Franciscan identity wither, and so it was not having its full effect on my life and apostolic work. Lacking attention from me, it was overshadowed by my Christian and religious vocations, becoming a dim sem-blance of what it should have been. Suddenly all those instructions I had received before and during my formation began flowing through my mind. To live as a Franciscan is to respond to Christ's call to follow him, to follow the universal call to holiness, the call I received at my baptism, the call to live and think with the church. To be a Franciscan sister is to incarnate the gospel life that inspired Francis to total discipleship through the vows: ."go and sell," "take nothing along," and "deny yourself." Hence, distinct but interrelated com-ponents simultaneously guide my following of Christ. I have dedicated myself to the evangelical call to holiness, to the long church tradition that draws on prayer and the authentic sources of Christian spirituality, on the recent instructions of the church on the vowed life, and on the particular lifestyle proposed by St. Francis of Assisi. There it was: the proper frame within which I could think anew about being Franciscan in my work as a Christian ethicist. And, for me, seeing Franciscan identity against its proper background was to understand, as if for the first time, its close relationship to my Christian and Review for Religious consecrated vocations. Within this frame, I understood why being a Franciscan is essential in my avocation, my vowed life's apostolic mission to be a Catholic ethicist. I confess that I had never given serious thought to the manner in which being Franciscan did, does, and will affect the way I do ethics. I am confessing here my past failure to explicitly recall the leaven of Franciscan values in the dough of my apostolic service. You see, I had forgotten to note their here-and-now effect, not so much on the content and method of my profes-sional activities, but on the style, manner, and spirit in which I do my work. Once I had explicitly adverted to that leaven, however, I realized I had here a virtu- '.tion on.,[rn .,iFra ci can Values ever more ous circle. Frequent meditation on my Franciscan values fostered an ever more Franciscan self. The more spirited my Franciscan heart, the greater likelihood its values-- continual conversion, poverty, humble "minority," and prayer--would be evident to those I serve.2 First, take the Franciscan charism of pove~-ty. Where every consecrated religious takes vows to live as the poor, chaste, and obedient Christ lived, followers of Francis embrace his special love for poverty. Note that, for il Poverello (the little poor one), poverty was a code word for living the gospel. As such, the vow encompassed not merely being monetarily and materially poor but also the more demanding challenge of imitating the kenosis, the radical self-emptying, of Jesus. For Franciscans, then, special esteem for the vow of poverty means asking for the grace to be formed into the image of the Servant- Lord who washed the feet of his disciples and gave up his 66.1 2007 Mirkes ¯ Confessions of a Franciscan Etbicist life out of love for sinners. For this Franciscan, then, the ethics consults that are "baked in the cake" of my every-day service afford me the precious gift of correcting and encouraging, praying with and, yes, sometimes sharing a good cry with, my clients, moving them ever more surely, moral choice by moral choice, toward their ultimate end of the Good. I frequently remind those who consult me that, because their love of the Truth and the Good is so profound, our exchange puts me in their debt. Indeed, these consultations provide me and them the double blessing of serving Christ in each other. Second, while every religious order requires its mem-bers to conform to Christ by living virtuously, Francis put humilit.y at the top of his list. Imitating Francis, I am called to give first place to the truth about myself as well as my abilities. The former lets me see that God can sing through this poor instrument as long as it is emptied of self; the latter helps me to know that all is gift. While it is true that God has blessed me with the ability to inspire people in their pursuit of the Good, I pray that my being a Franciscan shines through in the way I respond to acco-lades. After a lecture, for example, I always, but always, turn people to the real source of their inspiration: "Oh, I am so pleased you were moved by the truth of Humanae vitae! Isn't it a powerful document?" or "I see that the wisdom and holiness of Edith Stein really spoke to you. Thank God for the living witness of his saints." Third, all religious congregations encourage living in community as an explicit way to serve fellow religious and strengthen them in their service of the larger society. But Francis wanted friars and sisters to be minores, persons who lived together and claimed no special rule or domi-nation or power over anyone. Striving for that attitude as an ethics consultant, lecturer, and teacher, I provide knowledge and advice not in an imperative or domineer- Review for Religious ing way, not in a manner that makes nay moral authority felt, but in a way that appeals to the freedom and dignity of others. In doing so, I reflect and "preach" the value of "minority" by being submissive to those I serve for the sake of God. Fourth, where the church has always encouraged reli-gious to a deep conversion and self-emptying, St. Francis insisted that penance/continual conversion take primacy of place in the mindset and practice of his followers. Pursuant to a Franciscan vocation, the disposition of metanoia means letting one-self be totally cap-tured by Christ. It means unremitting movement toward the Good and avoid-ance of evil. These are the very desires I continually try to foster in those I serve. Frequently I exhort couples, "You will be tempted to give up, to cease wanting to convert to the Lord in the midst of challenging procreative issues. But resist the quick fix 'solutions' of contraception, ster-ilization, abortion, and IVF. The trade-off for expediency in these matters is an attenuated spousal relationship, a weakened family bond, and lost opportunities to lay down one's life for the other out of love." Finally, from his lived experience of the gospel, Francis understood that love must include mission. To demonstrate this he turns our attention to Mary, the per-fect disciple. Francis's way of being Marian was to emu-late the boundless love of Mary for her Son, love which flowed into the spiritual and corporal works of mer#. . Francis God ~ombats evil through holy~,-rn~n and: women, ~ ,.~.aro~gh tho~ who are dedicated 66.1 2007 Mirkes ¯ Confessions of a Franciscan Etbicist encourages every follower of his to frequently recall the scene of Mary standing beneath the cross, standing in the center of the struggle between good and evil, reminding all--but especially a female Franciscan ethicist like me-- that God combats evil through holy men and women, through those who are dedicated to instructing the ignorant by teaching morality. I confess my belief that today's moral climate requires me to morph into a hybrid ethicist: a Franciscan-Thomist. Recall that my uneasiness with the pope's response to moral relativism was largely because his position--and mine--were in the Aristotelian-Thomistic tradition rather than in the Franciscan tradition. If we had sought a Franciscan answer, it would have come from Bonaventure or his theological successors, Duns Scotus or William of Ockham. Had these men fought a heresy of relativism in their day, they would characteristically have appealed to a voluntarist solution. That is, the best way to avoid the errors of relativism comes from the Platonic way of understanding universal truth, namely, participation in innate ideas. In sum, to avoid the intellectual pride all too easily associated with philosophical speculation, these Franciscan theologians would have insisted that people do best by simply submitting their wills to the universal moral truth brokered by the church's magisterium. The Franciscan/Augustinian solution to moral relativism, then, would not have included rational arguments that yield a reason why people should submit their wills to the church's objective moral teaching.3 Against this background, I take personal solace from a central theme of the pope's theology (which is Augustinian, after all): the need to return to reason as a first step in combating moral relativism. The pope proposes, not naked reason, but reason purified by faith--or clarified by the God who is Logos, who is reason and the Word. A Review for Religious faith that opens people to the living God "liberates reason from its blind spots" so it can be "more fully itself.''4 Implicit in Benedict xvI's critique of relativists--those who contend that judgments about good or bad, right or wrong, are time-and-circumstance matters of personal opinion--is his reliance on Aquinas's philosophical vision of human nature and its transcultural basic needs.5 Since all persons unhampered by ideology, bias, or intellectual sloth can see that these natural needs/goods apply to every human being irrespective of time and culture, they should also agree that these goods ought always be pursued and honored and never denied or suppressed. With these objective human goods in mind, one can set up a series of syllogisms whose conclusions define them as objectively true and universally normative--employ-ing a first premise that has the certitude of self-evident truth and a second premise that cites an observed datum about human nature.6 The following example focuses on the human good of life. First premise: self-evidently, all human beings ought to do all those things and only those things that are really good for them. Second premise: as experience demonstrates, being alive is really good for human beings. Conclusion: every human being ought to seek life and vitality. When we apply this syllogistic argument to other human goods such as wealth, family, procreation, friends, society, play, and the higher goods of wisdom, worship, and contemplation, a set of goods emerges that is not relativist, that is, good for this or that person because of his or her desires or cultural pref-erences, but objectivist and universal, that is, good for all human beings whatever the time and circumstances. Furthermore, since all human beings have a right to this set of real goods, they also have a duty to require legisla-tures and judiciaries to enact and uphold laws forbidding their destruction or suppression. 66.1 2007 Mirkes * Confessions of a Franciscan Ethicist Pope Benedict XVI understands why a Dominican and Thomist solution to moral relativism is the way to go. It offers a discussion matrix within which to address the many fellow pilgrims of his who, by dint of being mari-nated in the skepticism and moral relativism of our day, require cogent persuasiveness for submitting to universal moral norms. And so I must be Aristotelian and Thomist in the content of my moral methods, all the while endeav-oring to have the Franciscan spirit shine through the way I do ethics.7 To conclude, then, I need only repeat my opening statement: "Confessions are never easy." But I can honestly add that this tripartite confession has con-tributed mightily to the lived mission of this Christian, religious, and F~:anciscan ethicist. Notes ~ Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, "Relativism: The Central Problem for Faith Today," available through http://www.ewtn.com. See also The Ratzhlger Repo~7 (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1985); Priuciples of Christian Morality (Ignatius Press, German 1975, English 1986); Without Roots (New York: Basic Books, 2006), and Values in a Time of Upheaval (Ignatius Press, 2006). 2 For an historical analysis of Franciscan charisms, I recommend an article by Raffaele Pazzelli TOR on Franciscan spirituality at www.fran-ciscanfriarstor. com/vocations. Mso the commentary at another section of the same website: www.franciscanfriarstor.com/resources. -~In the 13th century, the Dominican Albert the Great produced vast commentaries on Aristotle. In them Albert took full account of the work of the great Aristotelian translator and commentator Averroes (Ibn Rushd), while not neglecting to cgrrect his anti-Christian errors, hnportantly, Mbert began to clarify, why Aristotle criticized Plato. The latter had a dualistic notion of the human person that made a correct theory of the human body impossible. It was, however, only with Albert's pupil Thomas Aquinas that this point was fully developed. Unfortunately, Aquinas's work got confused with Averroism in the list of propositions condemned by the archbishop of Paris in 1277. As a result the Franciscans thought it best to retain their dedication to St. Augustine and to minimize the influ-ence of philosophy on theology. This is evident in the great works of St. Bonaventure, who tended to think of philosophy as a pagan tradition and Review for Religious strove to keep theology free of the errors of that tradition. Later Blessed John Duns Scotus and V~illiam of Ockham made more use of Aristotle, hut still remained skeptical of the power of human reason. Consequently--and tragically--the Franciscan and Dominican traditions were never recon-ciled. Ockham became a Nominalist and finally schismatic, and his distrust of reason to prove the existence of God was basic to Luther's thought and the split in the church brought about in the Protestant Reformation. 4 Pope Benedict XVI, Deus Caritas Est, §29. SMortimer Adler, Adler's Philosophical Dictionary (New York: Touchstone Books, 1995), p. 13. Perhaps the most egregious example of judicial moral relativism is encapsulated in the opinion of Justice Anthony Kennedy in Planned Parenthood v. Casey: "At the heart of liberty, is the right to define one's own concept of existence, of the meaning of the universe, and of the mystery of human life." (' Mortimer Adler, Ten Philosophical Mistakes (New York: Touchstone Books, 1985), p. 126. Y The Franciscan tradition has made great theological contributions to the church: the understanding of the doctrine of Mary's Assumption, St. Bonaventure's reflection of the Trinity. in creation, remarkable advances in natural science in the 14th and 15th centuries, and influential tracts on spirituality. On the other hand, as regards the theology of the body and virtue theory in ethics, the Dominican Thomas Aquinas has been con-stantly praised as the Common Doctor of the church. Since I work princi-pally in bioethics, I use his contribution and assimilate it to my Franciscan tradition in a harmonious, and not merely eclectic way. I encourage more Franciscans to do research in this field. Franciscan humility, it seems to me, demands as much. 66.1 2007 COLLEEN MARY MALLON Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue To recent experiences frame my reflection on pe in a global world. Recently, as part of a theo-logical update program for our diocese, I spoke on the Spirit and the chui'ch, focusing on themes that emerge from Yves Congar's great work I Believe in the Holy Spirit. Following the presentations, a number of the participants told of having new sources of hope opened up to them. I, too, was struck by the longing of these faith-filled minis-ters to connect to a vital and vibrant hope, to be deeply, ecclesia@ alive in the Spirit, and to share that life with others. There were charisms in that room that, wisely nurtured and supported, could set the diocese ablaze with the Spirit. Clearly, the desert is seeded; with more water, what a riot of flowers there would be. My second experience comes from St. John's University in New York, where I teach the introductory Colleen Mary Mallon OP first presented this essay as a talk on 21 April 2006 at Molloy College's Women of Spirit symposium. She is assistant professor of theology and religious studies at St. John's University; 8000 Utopia Parkway; Jamaica, New York 11439. Review for Religious course in theology. Early in the semester the students discuss Marcus Borg's explication of religious faith. Borg speaks about faith as assensus, intellectual affirmation, fiducia, complete trust, fidelitas, loyalty, and visio, how a person perceives the world from the perspective of faith.~ In each class the difficulty is not faith as trust or loyalty; it is faith as vision. Their vision of faith is stymied by the suffering, the struggle, and the pain that they encounter in the world. At best they hold a cautious hope that God might be at work in it all, but for most of them we live in a thoroughly indifferent universe. The fundamental faith/ hope in a gracious universe is all but nonexistent. These experiences press me to reexamine my own sources and senses of hope. With what theological visio do I see the present moment? How do I bear witness to gospel hope in these times: war in Iraq, worldwide trafficking of women and children, irruption of sectar-ian violence, the ever escalating divide between the have-mores and have-nots, the continuation of white privilege. And, closer to the bone, how do I claim a gospel hope in a church beset by the scandals of abuse and neglect, by clericalism, and by the antipathies of diverse members of the Body of Christ. My search for a response to these questions brought me back into the work and thinking of the French Dominican theologian and ecclesiologist Yves Congar. His experience of intense social, political, and ecclesial upheaval tempered his own sober confidence in the church as the continuing event of Jesus Christ in the world. I believe his perspective brings gospel hope and historical reality into a fertile, albeit tensive, dynamic. He and other French Dominicans contributed in no small way to the refashioning of theology in the 20th century. Their pertinence to wise theological vision in a global world is not to be overlooked. Using a feminist methodology which asserts that 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue "God is be discovered in human experience," let us look at the hungers and obstacles that we face at this time both as individuals and as members of a diverse and complex Christian tradition.2 Seeking what the Divine Presence desires of us at this time is, I believe, the very stuff of engaged discipleship. Discerning how contradictions and struggles mark our ecclesial experiences calls for both vir-rue and skill. I propose that the virtue is hope and that the skills include practices and behaviors that witness to our hope and even expand the horizon of our own gospel faith. If we listen carefully to what lies beneath our experiences so as to attend to the Mystery--infinitely beyond and yet intimately present to our present--we may encounter, even in "the incomplete" and "the lack," a power and a grace worthy of our freedom. I want to sketch a little more thoroughly thesigns of these global times and then turn to Yves Congar for his theological vision, for how it may inspire hope in the church today. The Signs of These Global Times There is no lack of scholarly analysis of globalization and the religious questions that emerge from the unprec-edented movement of people, ideas, and commodities.3 I want to look at the challenges that living in "glocal" presents.4 The anthropologist Roland Robertson uses the term "glocal" for the juncture where the global and local meet.5 Our contemporary experience of this global-local situation is a significant historical factor in our lives today. This is where we discern signs of the times and make decisions as disciples of Jesus. The theologian David Tracy is famous for the claim that we live in an age that cannot name itself.6 Our global-human existence contains such conflicting world-views that no one way, no single story, can hold us as a human family. Moreover, the very stories that perceive Review for Religious individuals and communities in significant patterns have become mobile. Peoples once geographically distinct are now mixing, interacting, and living in patterns that may be completely foreign to their nextdoor neighbor. Sociologists and anthropologists tell us that we, as global residents, are experiencing "flows" of people, resources, and information in ways never before experienced on the planet.7 Dual factors, media and migration, cause the global experience of compression and expansion? We experience global compression whenever we become aware of the nar-rowed space between once distant geographic entities. Exotic strangers now live close to each other in global cities that have drawn peoples together for a host of different reasons: as tourists, as migrant workers, as refugees, as executive elites. Globalization is reshaping our economic, political, and cultural worlds, and this brings a variety of ways of perceiving and evaluating the production of today's tech-nologically sophisticated societies.9 The flow of the classic Enlightenment notions of "democracy," "freedom," and "sovereignty" into new global spaces stirs in them new instances of these Western ideas. What would "democ-racy" look like for women'in a predominantly Shiite Iraq? What does the "sovereignty" of a Palestinian state, led by a newly elected Hamas government, mean for the established national states of the world? In truth, there is no longer one kind of modernity; many modernities are competing around the globe.~° These observations point to the growing tension between the global and the local which Roland Robertson describes as the "contemporary manifestation of the universal-particular dilemma.''~1 We 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue live in a world where we truly grasp universals (such as freedom, peace, prosperity) only in particular instances. And there seems to be no end of particulars; we keep discovering uniqueness, singularities, and individualities. We have come to accept, in a sense, one universal: that there are limitless particularities.~2 As Christians we recognize something of this dilemma in the wide range of our ecclesial experiences: the rise of local, base communities of gospel reflection, the renewed focus on particular denominational identities (what does it mean to be a Catholic college or university or hospital?), young people's search for their Christian identity, the rise of religious fundamentalism. Even the concerns regarding the proper role of local episcopal conferences expresses this global-local tension. The question of subsidiarity and collegiality is a much different question today than it was forty years ago at Vatican II. The experience of great diversity raises new questions about the "taken-for-grantedness" of the underlying unity of humanity. Various interpretative frameworks and femi-nist, postcolonial, and postmodern sensibilities foster a new global consciousness of "the other" and "difference." Indigenous stories, newly valorized, emerge on the global scene and inspire local resistance to ideas from outside; these "new primordialisms," freshly reshaped and refash-ioned cultural identities, whet deep appetites for mean-ing and consequence that seemingly transcend, for some people, their own existence.~3 Suicide bombers testify in ways we never expected to the power of meaning in human lives. Disconnected in their storied worlds from wider significance, people become anxious, aggravated, even deadly. New claims for authoritative traditions raise all sorts of questions about identity and symbols and whether our belonging to a particular group prohibits other kinds of Review for Religious belonging. It is in these particularisms that we often expe-rience the tensions of our ecclesial life. Can I be a Catholic and a Democrat? Can I be a feminist and "pro-life"? Like the world we are inescapably a part of, our ecclesial iden-tifies feel the pressure of the global-local predicament and challenges to past certitudes. As these new horizons open, our shared understandings of the gospel cross over into disputed spaces of lived experiences. Within those spaces there appears to be diminishing tolerance among us. Our particular community niche imposes limits on both our imaginations and our practices of tolerance. Many within the church find it increasingly difficult to engage in civil conversations across the wide diversity of perspectives. As the theologian Joseph Komonchak noted in an address to the Catholic Common Ground Initiative, "to judge from a few Internet discussions., many Catholics could learn a thing or two about elementary courtesy, about how to listen and how to speak, about give and take.''14 What hope can we have for a truly "catholic" future when our practice of dialogue mirrors the enclave mentality of our global world? Yves Congar's Incarnational Approach What might a thoroughly 20th-century, white, European, friar-preacher and theologian offer in support of hope in these times? Congar's incarnational, historical approach to theology certainly contributed to the theol-ogy in his day. Early in his theological vocation, Congar understood that he was called to serve the unity of a pain-fully divided Christian community.is Within this call grew his conviction that the dominant mode of doing theology was unnecessarily abstract and all too disconnected from the lives of ordinary people.16 His approach to theology developed from his fraternal relationships with Marie Dominic Chenu and Henri Ma]'ie Feret. Living and 66.1 2007 Mallon * Reclaiming Hope, Recovetqng Dialogue teaching at the French Dominican studium Le SaulchoiT; these three Dominicans plotted the demise of what they called "baroque theology." Congar recalls a particular day when they conceived of a research project on the history of theology. One day, chatting at the entrance of the old Saulchoi,; we found ourselves in profound accord--at once intel-lectual, vital, and apostolic--on the idea of undertaking a "liquidation of baroque theology." This was a moment of intense and total spiritual union . It was not a question of producing something negative: the rejections were only the reverse of aspects that were more positive. One day the balance will be drawn up, but already the positive quality can be sensed. What would a little later be called "ressourcement" was then at the heart of our efforts. It was not a matter either of mechanically replac-ing some theses by other theses or creating a "revolu-tion" but of appealing, as P4guy says, from one tradition less profound to another more profound.~7 This historical approach, learned at Le Saulchoh" and prac-ticed throughout his life, allowed Congar to develop a theology that was more deeply rooted in revelation and at the same time open to the pressing questions of the 20th century.~s It is Congar's approach to revelation that I believe is a critical point of departure. Many theologians regard Congar as the foremost expert on the Christian tradition, and anyone engaged in a theology of tradition cannot pro-ceed without Congar. Some contemporary scholars have noted that, while Congar's view of tradition is stunningly comprehensive, it lacks a necessary attention to the way in which meaning and power are inexorably intertwined. One theologian calls Congar's approach highly idealistic.~9 I have wrestled with this critique because, in some sense, it is a legitimate one. Clearly, Congar missed the post-modern critique of power/knowledge, and his very small Review for Religious reflections on women in relation to ministry and God-language betray his incomplete grasp of feminist concerns and questions.2° I do believe, however, that Congar's intu-ition concerning revelation and history is still significant because it is a profoundly catholic intuition. By this I mean that part of Congar's genius is his confi-dence in the fertile ground found at the intersection of the gospel and the ultimate concerns of people. As I read his theological project, I believe that the starting point of the-ology for Congar is the God-human relationship. Only in and through this relation-ship is knowledge of God possible: a relationship initiated and realized in history, in specific bodies, within unique and diverse human cultures. To make the God-human relation-ship the starting point ointp theologyfor Congar is the ,;, !GOd h :r an Telationship. of theology is to refuse to dissolve the tension between transcendence and immanence; it is, in fact, to claim that tension is integral to our graced existence in this world, in these bodies, at this time in history. I believe that this is a remarkable source of hope for us today. The mind-numb-ing, spirit-quenching materialism of much of our world has laid us low. Our own mystery as beings-made-for-love-and- truth is threatened by the pervasive consumerism that warps our sense of what it means to be human and happy. Our wishes are marketed to us as needs, things we lack are represented to us as inalienable rights, our unwise choices are blindly considered joys of freedom. The God-human Relationship To make the God-human relationship the starting point of our reflection is to reclaim both history and mys- 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue tery, and to do so in a way that is not naively romantic nor overconfident either, overreaching our finitude as crea-tures. If we allow materialism to flatten our perceptions, we lose the .meanings and values that animate our worlds of sight and sound, the very worlds through which the Divine Life communicates. In the words of Congar, "the regenerative power that will finally operate is already at work in our world, transiently, precariously, fragmentarily, and generally unperceived.''2~ This power is nothing less than the life of God poured out so that all may have life in its fullness (Jn 10:10). The "good news" manifest in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus makes explicit this divine intention for all creation, overcoming every possible alienation, division, obstacle, and separation. For Congar, this is the heart of the incarnation. God's involvement with creation is utterly personal and pro-foundly existential. "God is not the 'eternal celibate of the centuries,' but love and goodness," who creates beings "animate[d] . . . with a movement and., a desire that is an echo in them of [God's] own desire . . . revealed to us as [God's] spirit.''22 48 The Gift and Task of Discipleship For Congar, we cannot speak properly of the human outside the graced relationship that has called all creation into existence for the divine purposefulness that is agapic love. To be human is to have as gift what grace alone brings to completion.23 For Christians, the deepest, truest realization of the project called "humanity" is in receiving the embrace of a Trinity-imbued life; nothing less than the Word and the Spirit continue to effect the fulfillment of "all things in God.''24 And this fulfillment is not some-thing abstract or ethereal. "The Spirit makes it possible for us to know, recognize, and experience Christ. This is not simply a doctrinal statement. It is an existential reality Review for Religious which comes from a gift and involves us in our lives.''2s Our lives, lived Godward, immerse us in the Christian mystery that is simultaneously a gift received and a task entrusted. For Congar, the gift character of Christian life lies in Jesus' mystery becoming our mystery.-'6 Our immer-sion into Christ makes us new creation, or, as Joseph Komonchak says, "Faith discloses a new world of great depth and breadth and a new self within it.''27 In a global world where the media and the Internet hawk lifescripts to eager, vulnerable consumers, we must not lose sight of the liberating gift disclosed in Jesus; we must never forget Jesus' attractiveT~ess. Through his life, death, and resurrection, we encounter the agapic love that alone is worthy of our freedom. Moreover, we touch upon what Gustavo Gutidrrez has called the first step of all theo-logical reflection: adoration.28 The gift character of our discipleship opens us to God's utterly gratuitous love for all creation. Our only adequate response is the searingly silent gratitude of the mystic heart. To be found by this love is to find ourselves in a new relationship with all of reality, and to allow it to govern our existence both individually and communally, as both mystery and history. The gift given in revelation and received in our very being discloses to us the potential within all creation. We can only know a small part of this all-surpassing gift, but the task entrusted to us, to realize the potential of our graced existence, is of utmost importance for humanity. Our global-local world teaches us that particularity counts, that only in the bodies and histories and cultures of actual, unique persons can the transformation of the whole happen. The gift inspires the task. The gift of God's agapic love points and directs us towards the places where mercy, peace, justice, and reconciliation ache to be realized. Our 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue hope does not lie in some perfect world without the great risks that our freedom in history poses. Our hope lies in our unflinching reliance on the gift of the Spirit as we humbly and confidently put our freedom at the service of in some perfect wqrld without the great risks our freedom in history po eS.- the Love that has called us into existence. We recognize today, more than any other time, just how difficult that is. Our freedoms are conditioned by diverse worlds of meaning, some of which do not easily or comfortably coexist. We acknowledge an exasperating pluralism: global technologies that isolate just as much as they bridge. What ways of being disciples might help our hope and deepen Love's grasp, of our lives? Can diverse Christian reflections on the meaning of Jesus speak to each other? Can we practice curiosity and abstain from obstinate judgments? To imagine our discipleship as gift and task in a global world demands, I believe, a new asceticism that curbs our penchant to overindulge in communities of like-mindedness, that calls us to be different from nar-rowly framed groups around us, that calls us to the hard work of dialogical communion, expressed in new practices of ecclesial hospitality. The Task of Dialogical Communion There are behaviors and skills that can show widely that "the regenerating power that will finally operate is already at work in our world." There are disciplines that, if embraced, can witness to human life as dialogical communion. The diversity of the cosmos is authored and authorized by the Source of all life, in whose Mystery Review for Religious diversity poses no threat to unity. In the divine economy, unity stimulates diversity. The gift inspires the task. Dialogical communion challenges us to attend to how the Spirit continues to communicate God's life in and through our historical unity, a unity that is more than mere uniformity. Emerging from enclave mentalities into the liminal spaces of dialogue is, indeed, risky, business. Transgressing the boundaries of worlds of shared commitments and understandings takes great courage, and not only because of the encounter with difference. In a recent talk at St. John's University, Gerry Adams, leader of the Sein Fein party, spoke of the Irish Peace Process. The single most important element of the peace process, according to Adams, is dialogue: getting people to step out of their hard-fought divisions and to speak to each other. But Adams insists that the hardest dialogue is not with the perceived enemy; it is with your own group. Transgressing the boundaries of our habitation disturbs our communi-ties of like-mindedness. We put our identity at risk; our loyalties may be questioned; we may seem to have lost our regard for once-shared values and visions; we may be accused of undermining the very distinctiveness of our group. And we may become agents of change: midwives to the gestating life of redeemed humanity. If our diversity is no mistake, if our global-human condition confronts us, not only with challenges, but with the deep truth that our differences and particularities are the only way we have to express our essential humanity, then we will have to practice a new ldnd of countercultur-alism. When we become aware that the very diversity that delights God troubles and disturbs us, we have stepped into a moment ripe for conversion. I have the privilege of being a board member of the Parable Conference, an organization whose purpose is to make space for dialogue 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue Embracing the task Of_ dialogical commun_ion mopes us from false impressions and prejudgment~ to respect and curiosity. among all the branches of the Dominican family in the United States. No other entity for that dialogue exists in the United States. I remember the moment when I saw how mistaken my perceptions of the Dominican laity were. My prejudgment was an obstacle mercifully revealed and dispelled by new relationships with women and men whose embrace of the Dominican charism is truly inspiring. The Parable Conference struggles to keep the dia-logue alive among U.S. Dominicans; it is not an easy task. Ideology, apathy, and enmity challenge our attempts to be in authentic communion across the wide scope of the Dominican .family. Yet the very existence of this group is a good example of the order's preaching charism. Without the witness of an actual, historical community struggling to hold and engage the truths emerging from diverse God experiences, our words are empty and ~ our witness a mere shadow of what it could be. Embracing the task of dia-logical communion moves us from false impressions and prejudgments to respect and curiosity. In a contentiously divided global world, the practice of dialogical commu-nion bears witness every time we risk the hospitable effort to "make space" for each other. In his book Exc&sion and Embrace, the Lutheran theo-logian Miroslav Volf writes, "The will to give ourselves to others and 'welcome them,' to readjust our identities to make space for them, is prior to any judgment., except that of identifying them in their humanity.''29 When I attended Good Friday services last April, I observed a Review for Religious couple in the pew ahead of me struggle to "make space." It was an odd scene, because clearly there was enough space for everyone in the pew. For some reason, however, the woman-already-seated would not move all the way over; when another couple arrived, they had to practically sit on each other. I waited, thinking she would see the problem and adjust, move over just a bit more. No. She looked, made a fussy little head movement, and remained; eventually the intruding couple sat elsewhere. Then she moved over! Now there was plenty of space, and a few minutes later two others filled the pew. Why is it so hard to make space? Why is hospitality so difficult at times? I do not pretend to have a simple answer. I only know that there is a simple answer, and that this incident serves as a parable about the demands of dialogical communion. We need to secure a place where dialogue can happen. We have to cultivate the skills and disciplines that allow for the dignified existence of oth-ers. Without this space we risk the loss of real encounter and the grace it may hold for us. We lose an opportunity to witness to an authentic faith-filled visit, a gospel hope worthy of our fragile freedom. Congar reminds us that theology is not a deadly repetition of neatly worked out dogmatic statements. Disconnected from the existential reality of "someone's living thought," theology "will not bear its fruit.''3° We stand in danger, today, of losing that precious space where we respectfully, thoughtfully, and critically engage the "living thought" of someone else. Dialogical communion might be thought of as the inten-tional practice of hospitality towards those with whom we may not fully agree, or simply do not understand. People securing space for the complex and contrasting truths that emerge from deep diversities are signs of these times: "deep diversity" calls for an equally deep curiosity.3! 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue If our starting point remains the God-human rela-tionship, then we will be convinced that Mystery touches us only in history. The truth that embraces us in each encounter with the God of life is one, but its manifesta-tions are multiple. Indeed, genuine engagement of the God-human relationship continues to yield wise and chal-lenging expressions of Christian discipleship: the irrup-tion of the poor into history and the holistic vision of the reign of God as presented in theologies of libera-tion, the gospel reflection of women bringing forth new constructive theologies and the prophetic link with eco-logical consciousness and responsibility, the theologies of human rights that seek out space where diverse religions may work together for peace and the dignity of human life, and the emerging reflection on the other face of rac-ism, namely, white privilege and continuing exclusion of people of color. These truths of discipleship call us to examine anew the precious gift of our graced and historically precarious human existence. They call for a deeper asceticism and humility; they inspire a wondrous reverence for God and a curiosity about the things of God. They invite us to sus-pend our judgments so as to make space for each other and, in the very act of "maki~g space," encounter the God, who does more in us and with us than we can ask or imag-ine (Ep 3:20). "Making space" may well be the greatest and most fruitful spiritual discipline we can practice as a global church so as to be genuinely attentive to the Spirit in a world newly awakened to its divinely conceived diversity. Hope lies in our courageous and sober confidence in the Spirit's power to bring all that is God's to fullness. In the spaces where fragile human hearts meet the Love and Truth that alone overcomes all alienation, there is the hope for a different kind of history, a different kind of humanity. The gift inspires the task. Shall we take up the task? Review for Religious Notes ~ Marcus Borg, "Faith: The \a, ray of the Heart," in The Heart of Christianity: Rediscovering a Life of Faith (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 2004), pp. 25-42. 2 Mary Catherine Hilkert, "Tradition and Experience," in Freeing Theology: The Essentials of Theology in Feminist Perspective, ed. Catherine Mowry LaCugna (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1993), p. 60. 3 For an overview of the many facets of the phenomenon of glo-balization, see The Globalization Reader; ed. Frank J. Lechner and John Boli (Maiden, Mass.: Blackwell, 2000), and Patrick O'Meara, Howard D. Mehlinger, and Matthew Krain, eds., Globalization and the Challenges of a New Centmy: A Reader (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2000). 4 See Robert J. Schreiter, The New Catholicity: Theology between the Global and the Local (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1997). s Roland Robertson, "Glocalization: Time-Space and Homogeneity- Heterogeneity," in Global Mode, v,ities, ed. Scott Lash and Roland Robertson (London: SAGE, 1995). ~ David Tracy, On Naming the Present (New York: Orbis Books, 1994), p. 3. 7 See in particular Arjun Appadarai's seminal essay "Disjuncture and Difference in the Global Cultural Economy," in Mode~vtity at Large: Cultural Dimensions of Globalization (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota, 1996), pp. 27-47. s See in particular Robert Schreiter, "Globalization and the Contexts of Theology," in his New Catboliciq, pp. 1-27. 9 See Saskia Sassen, Globalization and Its Discontents: Essays on the New Mobiliq of People and Money (New York: New Press, 1998). ~0 Mike Featherstone, Undoing Culture: Globalization, Postmode~ism, and Identity (London: SAGE Publications, 1995). ~ Roland Robertson, Globalization: Social Theory and Global Culture (London: SAGE Publications, 1992), p. 100. 1, As Roland Robertson expresses it, "there is virtually no limit to particularity, to uniqueness, to difference, to otherness." Robertson, Globalization, p. 102. ~3 See in particular Benedict Anderson, hnagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationali.~n (London: Verso, 1991). ~4 Joseph Komonchak, "Is Christ Divided? Dealing with Diversity and Disagreement," Origins 33 (9): 140-147. ~ In a number of interviews, Congar traced his lifelong devotion to the unity the Christian churches to a siugular moment of contemplation. "It was while meditating upon the seventeenth chapter of St. John's Gospel 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue that I clearly recognized my vocation to work for the unity of all who believe in Jesus Christ." Yves Congar, Dialogue between Christians: Catholic Contributions to Ecumenism, trans. Philip Loretz SJ (London: Geoffrey Chapman, 1966), p. 3. ~'~ "We are too prone to be satisfied with a dogma in itself, which has not to be worked out but is all laid down in the catechism or the theologi-cal manuals. We retail it, we are purveyors of orthodox theology, and that is all. We are in the process of finding that a dogma must be someone's dogma or someone's living thought, otherwise it will not bear its fruit." Yves Congar, Priest and Layman (London: Darton, Longman, & Todd, 1967), p. 209. ~7 Yves Congar, "The Brother I Have Known," The Thomist, 49 (4): 495-503. 1~ For an excellent essay on Congar's life as a theologian, see Etienne Fouilloux, "Friar Yves, Cardinal Congar, Dominican: History of a Theologian," U.S. Catholic Historian 17 (2). ~9 Vincent Miller, "History. of Geography? Gadamer, Foucault, and Theologies of Tradition," in Theology and the New Histories, ed. Gary. Macy (Maryknolh Orbis Books, 1999), pp. 56-85. 20 Congar, however, was not in any sense na'ive with regard to abuses of power, particularly in his ongoing concern for a dialogical church. "In polemics., or in any form of controversy devoid of dialogue, I interpose my own personal power, or rather that of a social formation whose views I am defending, such as a nation, a church, a culture, a social group or class, or a nexus of collective interests. Certain questions, such as that of colonialism in its most absolute form, might be approached from this point of view." Congar, Dialogue between Christians, p. 55. :~ Yves Congar, Lay People in the Church, trans. Donald Atwater (~'Vestminster, Maryland: Newman Press, 1957), p. 86. 22 Yves Congar, 1 Believe in the Holy Spirit, Vol. 2, He Is Lord and Giver of Life, trans. David Smith (New York: Seabury Press, 1983), p. 67. ~3 Yves Congar, This CT;urch That I Love, trans. Lucien Delafuente (Denville, New Jersey: Dimension Books, 1969). 24 Congar, I Believe, vol. 2, p. 12. 's Congar, I Believe, vol. 2, p. 37. z6 Congar, Lay People, p. 57. 27 Komonchak, "Is Christ Divided?" p. 76. :s The "adoration of God and the doing of God's will are necessary. conditions for thinking about God." Gustavo Guti~rrez, The T~vah Shall Set You Free: Conf!'ontations, trans. MatthewJ. O'Connell (Maryknolh Orbis Books, 1990), p. 55. Review for Religious 2,; Miroslav Volf, Exclusion and Emb~wce: A Theological Exploration of Identity, Otberness, and Reconciliation (Nashville: Abingdon, 1996), p. 29. 30 Congar, Priest and Layman, p. 209. 3~ See Charles Taylor's discussion of "deep diversity" in "Shared and Divergent Values," in his Reconciling the Solitudes: Essays on Canadian Federalism and Nationalism (Montreal/Kingston: McGill-Queen's University Press, 1993), pp. 155-186. Personal Reflection/Group Discussion In today's church do I find in myself a growing inability to listen and to dialogue with others about my own beliefs and values? What can I do to develop a more tolerant attitude in myself and so help others to become more tolerant? Do I understand dialogical cornmunion? What are some of the challenges ! would face with the people with whom I live and work? 66.1 2007 ROSE HOOVER Why Do We Gather? A Journey Together community We live in an age when young adults rarely consider religious life an option for themselves. Are we dinosaurs with primordial behavior pat-terns? Do we know why we come together in religious communities in this day and age--or in any day and age? There are varieties of commu-nity, but in this article I simply want to reflect on religious community's purpose, whether we are talking about community under one roof or community in a broader sense that does not nec-essarily mean living together. Why do we gather together? For example, are we brought together as religious for the pur-pose of a particular task? Do we form commu-nity for thesake of the ministry we do? Many people get together for special endeavors and enjoyments--music groups and sports teams, for example. Some groups even live together, like Rose Hoover RC last wrote for this journal in March-April 1992. Her address is Cenacle Sisters; 505 Northeast 5th Avenue; Gainesville, Florida 32601. Review for Religious the ad hoc assemblages on some reality shows. We too have tasks we desire to accomplish, tasks not only pre-cious to us but valuable for the people of God. We know that good community life can help us in our ministries. But is ministry the reason we come together? Today other people do the same ministries we do, and do them just as well, without being members of religious communi-ties. If religious community is for the purpose of carrying out ministry, and if the ministry no longer necessitates coming together in community, then is our gathering as consecrated religious also unnecessary? What about forming relationships? There was a lot of talk a few years ago about relational communities as distinct from task-ori-ented communities. A quick Internet search shows that concept to be far from dead today. As Christians we are indeed called to be in relationship both with God and with other ~ i."~ W:~t~hou~t~:i')ood "rdationships, ,- iydividuals and communities Christians. Without good relationships, individuals and communities are bound to be lifeless. And so compan-ionship, relationships, belong in consecrated life. In fact, loving presence is necessary in consecrated life. But com-panionship, even deep companionship, can be had in other ways, some of them far easier than religious community. Neither friendship nor c6mpanionship, of course, can be the main purpose of religious community. As Antoine de Saint-Exup~ry writes in l/Vind, Sm~d, and Stars, "Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking together in the same direction." In Christian community, if our primary gaze is on each other rather than on Christ, we are not on the way to true communion. 66.1 2007 Hoover ¯ Why Do We Gather? Religious cOmmunity is no way to flee,the,World; the world walks right-inl Wit,h,us.o Can religious community exist for the purpose of mak-ing the practical details of life more economical or more simple? It certainly can, though it does not always do so. In our university town we see students who live together to save money and make life less burdensome, leaving more time and energy for studies. Religious communi-ties, too, can live simply and economically--and even live gospel poverty. But is this all there is to it? Communities, even small ones, can provide security. People throughout the centuries have banded together for the sake of security. Gated communities thrive today. California lays claim to at least three gated cities--in effect, walled towns: Rolling Hills, Hidden Hills, and Canyon Lake. Probably some peo-pie enter religious life to be safe from the dangers of the "world" (or other dangers they somehow perceive). We know from experi-ence that religious community is no way to flee the world, if for no other reason than that the world walks right in with us. Security, then, cannot be the purpose of coming together as religious. There has to be more to religious community than any of these reasons, more even than all of them together. Parker Palmer, a Quaker, who at the time of writing an article for Desert Call (1987) was part of an intentional community, puzzled over the historical longevity of monasticism, given the difficulties of community life. He concluded that it is because the monks "created a form of community that brings them together not for the purpose of togetherness but to support each other in the rigors of the inward journey.''~ Review for Religious To support each other on the inward journey, the spiritual journey, is indeed rigorous. It has no less a goal than transforming union with Jesus Christ. That, after all, is the Christian call. The road can be rocky, and pitfalls can lie along the path. There can be pain and discourage-ment, but also joy, peace, and love. Moments of grace can astonish, but then there may be long and numbing stretches of boredom. At times we wish to shuffle along complacently, and at other times we are strong against the enemy's wiles. We have glimmers of understanding and then clouds of miserable confusion. The journey is truly rigorous. There is no way to make it alone. Whether we thought about it this way or not, this is the reason we entered religious life. God knew the pur-pose even if we did not--the call to give ourselves wholly to God by following a path of transforming union in love. This path not only blesses us with love and forgiveness, it also demands much of us. It requires prayer. This needs to be said bluntly here because, though for some people prayer is pure joy, for others it is a demand, a rigorous one. And, as for praying together, some find it no bur-den at all, while others are being sorely tested. The need for prayer implies the need to find time for prayer, the courage to carve a quiet niche for it when society--and sometimes religious life as well--would instead reward us for constant activity. How many times have we heard someone say with a hint of pride in her voice, "I haven't had a day off in months"? Or maybe we have even made that boast ourselves. As our life goes on, we have opportunities and duties to learn compassion toward the uncompassionate and to love those who do not love us._We learn to see loveliness in those who appear unlovely, sometimes being surprised at seeing our own kind of goodness in someone we never even liked. We find ourselves acknowledging our own 66.1 2007 Hoover ¯ Why Do We Gather? sinfulness, our helplessness, our inability to understand ourselves or the God who loves us and in whose image we are made. The spiritual journey brings people to a better vision of life--but usually without visions. Along the way we more and more take on the mind of Christ, who emptied himself. We learn not to cling to anything, not to hold anything back. We take one step at a time, without know-ing where the road winds and often without being sure that the next step is the right one. The road through our interior landscape may lack clear markers; misty weather may obscure them and make us forget the presence of God. Formidable though the way may be, it is precisely here that we find our delight. The God who created the universe, who fills the cosmos, who was and is and ever shall be, this God is both our companion and our destina-tion. After beginning on this path, any other way seems dull and senseless, hardly worth the trouble of putting one foot in front of the other. To make the most of this wondrous journey and to smooth its progress, we gather together. We support one another by our words, our prayers, and our presence, and we grant one another the silence and solitude we all need. And, when we become discouraged like Elijah lying under the broom tree, we take for each other the role of the angel who said, "Get up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you" (1 K 19:7, NRSV). We have to admit, though, that sometimes our sisters and brothers the~nselves can be part of the "burning of the noontide heat, and the burden of the day."-' The com-munity may be the very reason we long to crawl under the broom tree and disappear in sleep. But the burdens and the blessings of the road are intermingled and often indis-tinguishable from one another. What seems like a bur-den may in reality be a blessing, and each blessing tends Review for Religious to bring with it its own weight, imperceptible at times, greatly evident at others. In community, as we accompany each other along the way, as we support each other, we bring ourselves to the mix of people, we give ourselves as gifts. As with ordinary gifts, we do not know if we have chosen the right gift for the right person. We sincerely hope we have, and that we are not bringers of burdens or disappointments. In this we all develop subtle social gifts of giving and receiving, giving benefits shyly and having doubts beneficially, all the while sharing in mystery. What, then, is the role of our ministry? Is the value of ministry lessened if the work we are called to do is not our chief reason for coming together? Not at all. Without the inward journey, our ministry lacks integrity. A reli-gious community with a task--even a noble task--as its primary purpose risks allowing both community and task to become sterile. The apostolate is inseparable from the path of transforming union. Like cotton canvas garden-ing gloves, our ministry, hand in hand with prayerfulness, brings our patient dedication to flower in ways beyond imagining--more .and more the work of Christ. We our-selves are transformed into the compassionate and merci-ful Christ for each other and for the world. Notes ~ Parker Palmer, "The Monastic V~ay to Church Renewal," Desert Call, ¼qnter 1987: 8-9. 2 Elizabeth C. Clephane, "Beneath the Cross of Jesus," 1868. 66.1 2007 ROBERT SCHIELER An Experience of Jesus and His Brothers During Holy Week 2006 three hundred De La Salle Christian Brothers gathered in retreat to discern a future together. Under the banner "An Experience of Jesus and His Brothers," we brothers from three East Coast provinces~ and Toronto, Canada, desire to imagine more of a future than merging our provinces into one. As in other congregations, the reason for con-sidering a shared future is the diminishment and aging in our provinces. In recent years the provinces have spon-sored joint formation programs, retreats, workshops, and council meetings. This gathering helped us become even more familiar with one another and our hopes and dreams. From the beginning we wanted to explore creative approaches to consolidation. We saw the merging of provinces as perhaps an administrative necessity but no guarantee for future viability and vitality. Our goal was to Robert Schieler FSC writes from Christian Brothers Provincialate; P.O. Box 29; Adamstown, Maryland 21710. Review for Religious make our network of ministries more effective. These ways were to include a renewed passion for our life together as brothers in community and for our consecrated life in the following of Jesus. The aim of the communal retreat was to facilitate achieving these goals. In the preceding eighteen months, a planning com-mittee guided local community conversations around the Triduum. Four prayer services with reflection questions were prepared for Trinity Sunday, when communities nor-mally .plan for the year, the first Sunday in Advent, and the first Sunday in Lent. Reflection questions sought to mirror sessions that would take place during the retreat: remembering our icons and dangerous memories; discern-ing who we are today and our potential for tomorrow; and deciding on a direction for a shared future. Being pragmatic people, a good many brothers had reservations about this process and the value of the retreat itself. The retreat began on Wednesday evening with over three hundred brothers processing into our prayer space for an opening prayer service and a motivational presen-tation celebrating five brothers identified as icons from our five provinces. During our days of retreat, we would recall icons from Scripture, our Lasallian heritage, and our brothers. Icons, as windows to the interior, help us get in touch with the deeper forces operative in our lives. An icon can help us transcend the immediacy of our pres-ent life situation. By touching the core of our being, icons stir up an interior movement that allows us to go beyond our immediate landscapes. At the opening prayer service we heard read: We gather tonight to remember, to celebrate, to grieve, and to dream. This is our Lasallian heritage. It is rich, indeed! It is composed of individuals, communities, and ministries that at one time listened to the whispers of a radical spirit, a spirit that opened to us new venues and invited us to launch our boats in uncharted waters so 66.1 2007. Scbieler ¯ An Experience of Jesus and His Brothers as to serve better the children of the poor and working class. We celebrate tonight our Lasallian icons. They are stories, people, events of the original foundational journey of our community as De La Salle Brothers that become like windows breaking open the deepest mean-ing, revealing a prophetic insight, full of memory and hope, about the present. They help us to get in touch with our dangerous memories., our wildest dreams. They connect us to our institute, to our church, and to the mystery of God's kingdom here on earth. Brothers, they do not exist to reassure us. Sometimes these icons will destabilize us and challenge our current views and understandings. If we let them, they may stir up in us the deepest movements and yearnings of the Spirit! Seeing men we have lived with or heard about and recalling how they lived as brothers and what they accom-plished stirred us, prompted reflections, and encouraged conversations about our fraternal life together and the mission for which we consecrated our lives. As the open-ing evening came to a close, brothers retired to their rooms in a "wait and see" frame of mind. Dangerous Memories Under the day's theme of "Remembering where we were and refounding our hope. for the future," we met on Holy Thursday morning as provinces to recall our respec-tive dangerous memories. The theologian Johannes B. Metz saw dangerous memories as: memories in which earlier experiences break through to the center point of our lives and reveal new and dangerous insights for the present. They illuminate for a few moments and with a harsh and steady light the questionable nature of things we have apparently come to terms with, and show up the banality of our supposed "realism." They break through the canon of the prevailing structures of plausibility and have certain subversive features. Such memories are like dangerous Review for Religious and incalculable visitations from the past. They are memories that we have to take into account, memories, as it were, with a future content.: One province, in the activities leading up to the retreat, highlighted as one of its most dangerous memories a 1920s decision that resulted in a quick move from primary to secondary education. In 1926 and 1927 the province withdrew from thirteen elementary schools to staff two new diocesan high schools. While reluctant at the time to leave elementary education, the province would realize from these two schools several hundred vocations during the next four decades. This decision is part of the prov-ince lore and often recalled at fraternal gatherings. On this Holy Thursday morning, however, it was about another dangerous memory that several brothers spoke with pas-sion. This dangerous memory was still very much in the present. It was from the late 1960s and early 1970s. Like many congregations and the church in general, the province was caught up in the euphoria of the Second Vatican Council, but was also beginning to witness the fallout: departures, the drop in vocations, and polariza-tion. Between the start of summer 1969 and the end of summer 1970, the province would lose nearly a hundred brothers, including the provincial and much of the prov-ince's leadership. In the coming decade nearly thirty men would leave to enter the priesthood. The novitiate that had served the province since 1880 closed in summer of 1969. At the same time the renewal and updating of our religious life, the principle of subsidiarity, and personal responsibility versus directives from the top were going forward. So was empowerment of young over those with seniority status. While this province would struggle with fundamental issues of religious life through much of the 1970s, by the end of the decade a new formation program was bringing 66.1 2007 Schieler ¯ An Experience of yesus and His Brothers from our pas that we wanted tocar or ard fewer but excellent candidates. Commitment to its tradi-tional educational ministries remained strong while being open to new and sometimes individual ministries. The mental health of the brothers would be honestly faced and addressed. After considerable neglect, personal and communal prayer returned. The morning session was both invigorating and inspir-ing. Table conversation at lunch was animated as other brothers were proposed as icons and further dangerous memories shared. Following lunch and prompted by a presentation on passing with Jesus from death to life and by a video on our roots, we reflected on the values from our past that we wanted to cel-ebrate and carry forward into the future. These included accomplishing our educational mission as a community that can adapt and innovate, the diversity of our educational delivery sys-tems, our formation as educators with a Christocentric spirituality, and our recent establishment of national for-mation programs to share our charism with our lay col-leagues. As Thursday afternoon gave way to evening and din-ner, the brothers seemed to accept that we were on a retreat, not at an assembly. Conversations were more hope-filled, and the feeling now being expressed was "Yes, it is good to be together." This was evidenced by the number of brothers coming.before the Blessed Sacrament in prayer and silence throughout the evening. Finding a seat in chapel for adoration on Holy Thursday had not been difficult for a long time! Review for Religious Three Hundred HistoriesmOne Voice, One Spirit While on Wednesday evening and Holy Thursday we celebrated and remembered those brothers who shaped us and our provinces, on Good Friday we would behold the men we are today. How are we different from those we had honored and recognized? What had we lost? What do we take to the cross? Whom do we take down from the cross? What do we bury? To stimulate our reflection we viewed the film Romero, suffering servant in our time, and listened to a presentation on the crucifixion of Jesus, the Suffering Servant for all time. These enriched our table conversations later, but something else in that afternoon proved transformative. The image of three hundred brothers one by one ven-erating the crucified Christ on Good Friday afternoon was a powerful one. We witnessed three hundred histories that have faithfully lived their initial "yes" given to God. There was much gray, but the talent and energy in that long gray line was palpable. One brother reflecting on the experience wrote: "I found that long line of brothers inspiring. Each of us brought our stories to that moment, and I knew many of the men and their talents, the ~ailures they and I faced, the challenges they and I met, the stu-dents they and I inspired, the communities we had lifted up, and our struggles with various demons. Some were my teachers; others were my mentors in community. There were international, national, and district leaders. Other brothers were and are colleagues and confreres. Yet all our various paths pointed us in the same right direction that afternoon. All of us bowed before the same cross, individually and collectively, confessing our belief in Jesus our Savior. What richer image could we have of our vow formula than that we brothers accomplish our educational mission not as individuals but 'together and by associa-tion' with one another?''3 66.1 2007 Scbieler ¯ An Experience of Jesus and His Brothers This kind of change stimulates resistance because it challenges peopl e's habits. Holy Saturday Holy Saturday morning began with a presentation that many brothers found realistic while others found challenging and some even disturbing or out of sync with the spirit of the retreat. That presentation revealed the harsh demographic realities that nearly sixty percent of the membership is over sixty-five years of age with only twelve of the 420 brothers in the three provinces and del-egation under the age of forty. It spoke of the hope lost after the heady days of the council. It spoke of halfhearted efforts at amalgamation in the 1990s and the first cou-ple of years in this new ~ century. It spoke of the ~' difficulties and chal- !enges of what Heifetz . and Linsky call "adap-tive change" versus "technical change"; change at the core of persons or organizations as opposed to the simple rear-ranging of things.4 This kind of change stimulates resis-tance because it challenges people's habits, beliefs, and cultures. The presentation offered elements of hope and a plan for the future, but for some it stood in contrast to the good feelings generated from the storytelling and shar-ing of experiences from our various provinces. Perhaps we were experiencing the stone being placed at the entrance to the tomb. There was a period of questioning, self-doubt, and waiting. What direction would the retreat now take? We had reached a critical moment, and it took all the facilitators' skills to maintain a retreat atmosphere and not slip into a workshop or assembly one. We pre-pared the brothers to opt for the direction they preferred. Review for Religious The answer would come in the afternoon, after the "three hundred stories" had processed in once more. Five possible directions for a shared future were iden-tified, including remaining as separate provinces or unit-ing in a totally new structure. The five possibilities were posted at the front of the hall, and each brother was given a colored dot to place next to his choice. Again three hun-dred men walked up quietly and indicated their choice. At the end, it was overwhelmingly agreed: to create one province with new structures for the vitality of commu-nities and ministries of the three present provinces and delegation. The key phrase was "new structures." In a letter he sent to the brothers at the retreat, our superior general wrote: Our times demand not only that we change current structures, as if by doing only this we could revitalize ourselves. It is not about simply creating larger prov-inces that are the same as those of the past. We have to reinvent what it is we understand by the term "prov-ince," and create new structures that will allow us to be rnore visible and more effective in the way we manage and accompany Lasallian association throughout the world,s The stone in front of the tomb was being removed along with self-doubt and waiting. We embraced the possible. It is always Holy Saturday whenever people push back the creeping boundaries of the world's fear, making room for irrepressible hope; where people live the long darkness of original sin while believing in the possibil-ity of the deeper light; where people discover the touch of an invincible spring on the bare branches of their winter lives.6 Easter Vigil The Easter Vigil was a most joyous occasion. All three hundred brothers had donned their new sport shirts with one of our familiar congregation logos. In his sermon the 66.1 2007 Scbieler ¯ An Experience of Jesus and His Brothers 72 celebrant for the vigil beautifully summarized the previous several days by recounting a conversation he had earlier in the day with a young man staying at the same resort. I walked by. "Hi," I said. "'Sup. You one of Jesus' brothers?" I knew what he meant because I live in the 'hood. "Sorry?" "You one of Jesus' brothers? I saw the sign: 'Jesus and His Brothers.'" "Yeah, yeah, you are too!" Never miss a catechetical moment. "So you pastors or something?" "No, mostly teachers-Christian Brothers." "That's nice," he said. "I've been watching

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

Issue 31.1 of the Review for Religious, 1972. ; ASSOCIATE EDI'I.'O R Everett A. Diederich, S.J. QUESTIONS ANI) ANS\VERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editor, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to I~EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Build-ins; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, SJ.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ccclcsiastical approval by faculty mcnlbers of tile School of Divinity of St. Louis UniversJly. the edilorhll otfices beii~g located at 612 Ilumboldt Bnilding~ 539 North (.;rand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned b.v the Missouri Province Educational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1972 by REVIEW I:OR RELIGIOUS. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. l.ouis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.25. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year, $11.00 for two years: other counlries: $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for Ilew or renewal subscriptions and should bc accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. cur-rency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent I~EVIEW I:OR ~ELIGIOUS. Clmnge of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions should be sent I)ululh, Minnesota 55802. Manuscripts, editori-al correspondence, and books for review ~bould bc scat 1o REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS: 612 [lumboldt Building: 539 North Grand Boule-yard; SI. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to tile address of tile Questions and Ans\vcrs editor. JANUARY 1972 VOLUME 31 NUMBER 1 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Volume 31l 1972 EDITORIAL OFFICE 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Louis, Missouri 63103 BUSINESS OFFICE P.O. Box 1110 Dululh, Minnesota 55802 EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, Published in January, March, May, July, September, No-vember on the fifteenth of the month. Review for Religious is indexed in the Catholic Periodi-cal Index and in Book Review Index. Microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Micro-films; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. HELEN CONDON, R.S.C.J. The Prayer Question [Helen Condon, R.S.C.J., is a member of the administrative team of the International Union of Superiors General; Piazza di Ponte S. Angelo, 28; 00186 Rome, Italy.] One sign that religious men and women are experiencing renewal and not just making adaptations is the surfacing of a deep current, the desire for prayer. Within the past two or three years there has been a stronger interest in prayer, in new forms and approaches, in books by Lutheran, Anglican, and Orthodox mystics and in Eastern spiritualities. That this interest is more than academic is evident from the efforts being made to experience prayer -the workshops and live-in institutes, directed retreats, the spreading house of prayer movement, the contacts being sought with various masters of contemplation. The Spirit breathing through the Second Vatican Council is surely responsible for this direction of renewal. One strong influence has been the Biblical renaissance of our time, affecting both communal and personal prayer. Among young religious in particular there is often a truly Scripture-centered praying. Another impetus has come from the new freedom given by the chapter decrees of numerous apostolic congregations, doing away with outmoded and excessive devotions and offering wide latitude for individual needs and attractions. What is this contemplative prayer? However we may try to analyze or describe it, in the end it is perhaps least badly expressed as an experience of God. Desire for this experience goes far beyond religious and Christian life, for the same dynamism is active in contemporary society. A'quest for religious experience is a marked characteristic of the counter-culture, however misdirected it may become in esoteric dilettantism and drug addiction. In many places criticism of religious institutions is strongest among those who sense what religion should be. Celebration of the death of God is not an attack on Him but in our misrepresentations, and it can lead to a search for Him. The awareness of God's absence and the widespread crisis of faith and hope may well be social phenomena akin to the mystical dark night. Is it surprising that religious men and women may be similarly affected? Our problems are often the same problems that others have. Realization of this fact can lead to meaningful solidarity with them. It can also be a tremendous apostolic challenge. In this context we come to understand that, although prayer as a human experience has certain constants through the centuries, it must also be real today. Action and contemplation are not antithetical, any more than are body and soul or other so-called dichotomies. All the condemnation of old attitudes and structures that enforced parallel lives of individualistic prayer and work and even the recent criticism of mere horizontalism are now subsiding. What is left is at bedrock level, a hunger and thirst for the living God. The modalities of this experience are many, defying definition and classification. Age-old awarenesses still hold - man's sense of the wholly Other, man's need for a human God - but these are intensified and Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 re-expressed in our heightened consciousness of present realities. Prayer is experience of God's dynamic presence; it is also search for this God. Sometimes it is experience of His absence. Prayer is awareness of His saving action in the world, challenging our integral response. Prayer can be both cause and effect of serving the real needs of men. Yet, without denying the present thrust toward prayer, a crucial question is justified: given the present conditions and circumstances, can many religious men and women engaged in active apostolates really have contemplative prayer? Never have pressures been greater than they are today in Catholic education, the area in which most religious devote themselves. The burden of the future weighs heavily on teachers and administrators: how to assess apostolic need and effective response; how to become more involved in the wider community; how to achieve academic excellence and, of course; how to make ends meet while increasing faculty salaries and benefits, improving instructional programs, and extending scholarships; whether to keep open or to close a school or college. Shortage of personnel presents critical financial problems and sometimes affects morale, especially if teaching sisters, brothers, and priests interpret the questioning of schools and universities and the undertaking of new apostolates by members of their congregations as a lack of support and confidence. Added to all these circumstances is another factor, the grave problems of high school and college students which have also spiraled within a few years and which cry out for help, time, and emotional expenditure on the part of those who teach and guide them. In view of all these pressures - and similar pressures in other kinds of apostolic work - some religious men and women are driven to settle for very little prayer. In addition, the changes within religious life have had an effect - more direct responsibility for one's own "prayer life," greater personal freedom, a wider variety of leisure activities. No longer does a rule or superior "safeguard" times of prayer. Self-discipline is rightly intended to replace other structures, but this kind of self-discipline is not easy, even after years of fidelity to meditation. Other changes have caused malaise and polarization within congregations and local communities. After hectic days in the classroom or office, religious men and women sometimes come home to tensions that are even more difficult to bear. Then there are the heaviest pressures of all, questions that are being asked not just in theological speculation but in personal anguish: ls religious life itself a valid and viable way any more? What meaning has permanent commitment? Is such commitment possible? What really is a relationship with God? Is there such a thing as being "called"? Who is Christ? Where is He? What is the Church? It is not surprising that some find prayer very difficult or meaningless. If it is true that the Holy Spirit is seeking to pray more within us and among us, how can we help one another respond, in spite and because of the problems that burden us? Some of these problems are outside us and some are within. Basic to any effort is a view of religious life itself. It is more and other than professional service, however sympathetic and unselfish. Religious life is a way of realizing the baptismal commitment. It is a faith relationship with the Lord lived out in apostolic community. It is a shared experience of Jesus Christ. A religious congregation is a community of persons committed to, an evangelical life and mission, which is the saving work of Christ among people today. Some such vision reflecting the charism and spirit of the founder is at the head of the book of new decrees or interim documents of ourcongregations. Ultimately this vision is a conviction of faith, with an overriding logic of its own. And this Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 conviction must become the point of reference and basic principle determining our priorities and policies. As a matter of fact, many congregations are acting according to their vision and basic principle in making courageous decisions about reorganizing institutional apostolates and opening up new forms of evangelical service and ministry. Convictions about the individual's'needs and apostolic call are leading to new types of community life and more diversified professional training. The experiments in initial formation and the move toward continuing education and retirement programs result from a realistic application of fundamental aims. Yet are we equally realistic in implementing the prayer-imperative intrinsic to our vision and faith conviction? If in actuality many or even some apostolic religious are so overburdened and pressured that prayer becomes impossible, then priorities demand an honest facing of the problem by everyone concerned. This confronta-tion is the responsibility of a whole congregation or an entire province as well as those in authority, since we now participate in some way in our own government. We have been willing to cut back on institutional commitments because of new apostolic demands, because of the need for further professional preparation, the shortage of personnel and finances. Are we willing to make similar decisions to help one another grow in the faith relationship with God, live the apostolic religious life more humanly and freely? This is not a pious ideal but a pragmatic conclusion. Apostolate is bigger than work, as the person is more than a function. People have to be given time and psychic space to breathe and be. Practically speaking, we need to provide more help for overworked administrators, to lighten class loads of teachers whose day also includes hours of informal counseling or evening activities in the parish. And speaking just as practically, we must begin to give time-off to individuals - spiritual sabbaticals - not just time to acquire a degree in theology, but time and help to seek the living God. Summer renewals of a month or so are helpful. Yet what seems to be needed is a prolonged period, a semester or more, with courses in Scripture and theology and other disciplines integrated into a community experience, and the opportunity for real spiritual direction. The ARC program held in Rome during 1970-71 offered such an experience and might serve as one model for similar ventures elsewhere.1 This kind of spiritual sabbatical might well give the distancing that some seem able to find only in a leave of absence. For most others it would be a time of growth and re-integration after years of self-expenditure. Congregations - which is to say, we - owe their members continuing spiritual help and most especially help in praying - not just talks on prayer, though these can be valuable, but personal guidance and circumstances that favor growth. Good directors are hard to come by; this field of ministry is crying out for sisters and brothers as well as priests. We need prayerful men and women with learning, experience, and sensitivity to the contemporary, who can enlighten and encourage others, enabling them to discern God's leading and to go forward in faith. Besides the congregation, local communities are "responsible" for the quality of 1 ARC - Apostolate of Religious Community - was a program first offered for religious women in 1970-1971 in Rome. Courses in Scripture and theology were taught in English by such persons as Barnabas Ahem, Luis Alonso Sch6kel, Robert L. Faricy, Paul Kennedy, Edward Malatesta, Juan Mateos, Paul Molinari, David M. Stanley, and James Walsh. The 28 participants of varying ages belonged to 17 congregations. They developed their own community life, integrating course content, and communal prayer.'The ARC program,is being repeated during 1971-1972. Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 prayer of their members. It is in the living situation that a person's overwork and exhaustion will become most evident. If a community is really a home, then already other pressures lessen and we get strength from one another. If it is not home, a person may tend to withdraw, to center his life outside, to work compulsively. Even if an individual will not or cannot work out of his overextension, his friends can help, like the four men in the gospel~ by laying him at Christ's feet in their own prayer. Since we have chosen to live out our commitment in community, community becomes the context of our discovery of Christ, as it was for His Apostles. As they supported Thomas, we can sustain the faith of one another. Our faith is in need of such help. Perhaps more of us than we could ever guess are going through the same kind of thing - asking ourselves who Christ is and where He is, what our own lives mean and how we can live them today. Another's questioning and searching can help us immeasurably more than facile theoretic solutions. Some are doubting if there is such a thing as a personal call by God. Ultimately the only answer is people's experience. In the long story of salvation history some individuals have known a personal call, and in the more tangible present of our own communities others may be able to share their own moment of meeting with the Lord. Perhaps we can dare to walk in the strength of another's vision, or he in ours, or the hidden Christ may join the two of us as we speak of no longer finding Him. The prayer of the Christian community has special efficacy because the Lord has promised His presence there. Whatever form communal prayer may take, it must make room for this presence, with all its implications of conversion and forgiveness. Through the centuries religious men and women have edified each other by their ardor and fidelity. Today, when we are particularly vulnerable to one another, the quality of community life has a tremendous impact. Perhaps more than anything else, the best help to personal prayer is to be with praying people. What about the individual religious who finds prayer impossible or meaningless? When we cannot pray, when we are bogged down, utterly weary, drained, dried up, when we may already also feel guilty, advice is the last thing we want from Job's comforters, perhaps even from our closest friends. But maybe we can quietly recognize that much of our impotence may come from exterior circumstances and our own human condition. The response is what we are capable of at any given moment. Maybe the only response possible is a desperate cry to God for help. And maybe there will be no answer, only silence. If we can remember words about knocking over and over again, we can try to keep on asking, begging especially for faith: Save me, God! The water is already up to my neck! I am sinking in the deepest swamp, there is no foothold; I have stepped into deep water, and the waves are rushing over me, Worn out with calling, my throat is hoarse, my eyes are strained, looking for my God (Ps 69:1-3). God's power that raised Christ from the dead is working in us (Ep 1:19-20). In prayer the initiatives are His: "Is anything too wonderful for Yahweh?" (Gn 18:14). The response we are capable of may mean a courageous honesty, admitting our own carelessness or compromising or sinfulness. It may mean a willingness to take small steps, perhaps just a recognition of the problem of personal prayer, perhaps letting ourselves be helped. At some point priorities can be sorted out. If the problem is overinvolvement, something has ~to give. Nobody but God can be all things to all men. In its acute form this condition is like a heart attack, when a Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 doctor would say to us: "If you want to live, you've got to let up." Now our very life is just as truly at stake. Do we want to live, and live more abundantly? For all of us, moving into this more abundant life means discovering a rhythm and realizing an integration of prayer into our very existence. The Spirit's action leads to life, not frustration. His invitation to apostolic religious must be possible of acceptance. Given the complexities of today, obstacles around us and within us are immense, but with personal and communal effort they must be surmountable. The new decrees of congregations which altered prayer obligations were intended to open do6rs and windows, not create a vacuum. Contemplative prayer does not need to be defended. Time taken for it does not require apologies to anyone. For the problem of prayer will always be partly a question of time because of the human condition. The modes of prayer are multiple and unique: God can and does give Himself anywhere at any moment. To recognize and assimilate this encounter takes reflection, time, some solitude. Prayer is a human experience, caused and conditioned by and inseparable from human living; prayer is also a gift of the immanent and transcendent God. Apostolic religious are praying people who happen to be teachers or adminis-trators or other professionals, not workers who happen to pray. If we mean what we have so often said - that is what we are rather than what we do that matters - then nowhere is this more true than in our being in Christ. The integration of our lives comes about through the quality of our prayer. The deepening desire for prayer is surely a sign and fruit of renewal. And God's gifts are given not just for ourselves but for others, for the building up of Christ's Body. Religious men and women who are praying people can help others to pray, those who are searching for God without knowing Him, those who have lost Him, those who are revolting against the sterile materialism of technocracy. The religious person is also meant to be a prophet, to condemn injustice and hatred and violence by his words and his life, to proclaim the kingdom of justice and love and peace. One who speaks God's message to mefi must all along be a listener: The Lord Yahweh has given ,me a disciple's tongue. So that 1 may know how to reply to the wearied he provides me with speech. Each morning he wakes me to hear, to listen like a disciple. The Lord Yahweh has opened my ear (Is 50:4-5). M. BASIL PENNINGTON, 0.C.S.0. Contemplative Community lM. Basil Pennington, O.C.S;O., is a Cistercian monk of St. Joseph's Abbey; Spencer, Massachusetts O1562.] The Third Cistercian Symposium (August 30 - September 6, 1971) held at the Abbey of Notre Dame du Lac (near Montreal, Canada) brought together some fifty participants from various nations and continents, including such notables as Jean Leclercq, O.S.B., Armand Veilleux, O.C.S.O., Chrysogonus Waddell, O.C,S.O., Valentine Walgrave, O.P., Ghislain Lafont, O.S.B., and many others. The theme of this Third Symposium was "Contemplative Community." Like the previous Cistercian Symposiums, a team of experts, in this case fifteen, were asked to prepare papers which were circulated in advance. Like the Second Symposium this one also was interdisciplinary and included papers from the fields of Sacred Scripture, patristics, monastic spirituality and history, liturgy, theology, sociology, anthropology, and psychology. A paper reflecting the Anglican perspective was also presented. Unlike previous Symposiums the papers were not read at the meeting. All had been asked to study them carefully prior to the meeting. Or/the first day each expert made a very brief presentation and time was allotted for questions. Such a plan was proposed to allow the greatest amount of time possible for discussion in the hopes that the group might in this way penetrate more deeply hato the question. In practice it proved quite successful. The twelve papers presented were: Scripture Monastic Community and the Summary Statements in Acts Francis Martin Monastic Tradition and History The De Instituto Christiano: Reflections on Contemplative Community Sr. Michael Connor, O.C.S.O. St. Bernard of Clairvaux and the Contemplative Community Jean Leclercq, O.S.B. Seeking God in Community according to St. Aelred Charles Dumont, O.C.S.O. Together unto God: Contemplative Community in the Sermons of Guerric of Igny M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O. A Challenge for Today: The Problem of the Contemplative Community at the End of the Eighteenth Century Cyprian Davis, O.S.B. Contemplation and Community: An Anglican Perspective Sr. Benedicta Ward, S.L.G. Liturgy Liturgy and Contemplative Community: Random Reflections and Notes for Discussion Chrysogonus Waddell, O.C.S.O. Theology The Theology of Contemplative Community Tarcisius Conner, O.C.S.O. Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 Sociology The Theology of Social Dynamics with an Application to Contemplative Life Valentine Walgrave, O.P. Anthropology Contemplative Community David F. K. Steindl-Rast, O.SoB. Psychology Some Psychological Dimensions of the Contemplative Community D. H. Salman, O.P. Experts present who did not present papers were: Armand Veilleux, O.C.S.O., abbot of Mistassini and editor ofLiturgie, Ghislain Lafont, O.S.B., of Pierre-qui-vire andJohn Eudes Bamberger, O.C.S.O., Secretary General of the Cistercian Order, psychiatrist and patristic scholar. In addition to the team of experts there was a good cross section 'among the participants of those concerned with the contemplative community. There were abbots and abbesses, novice masters and novice mistresses, monks, nuns and novices; there were Cistercians, Benedictines, and Dominicans; there were those from experimental communities, secular institutes, and the lay state. With such a large group there was always the danger that the Symposium might evolve into a colloquium. In actual fact 6ne evening session was devoted to sharing the experiences of the various communities represented. However, for the most part, the meeting remained a very serious study, yet one constantly challenged by practical pastoral concern. On the first day after the brief presentations and a question period, the meeting divided into five small groups, three English-speaking and two French. These groups, in the light of the presentations, formulated questions which represented areas of concern: the essential nature of the Christian contemplative community, sharing at the level of contemplative experience, integration of the vertical and horizontal dimensions. Fidelity to the evolving community and entrance into the contemplative community were also to be discui;sed. On the second day discussion was largely restricted to the panel of experts. The Biblical type of the Christian community, especially in the light of the summary statements in Acts (2:42-7, 4:32-5, 5:11-6) was explored. And then the wider human phenomenon was considered. It was felt that the specifically Christian dimension which transfinalized and elevated the human could best be understood if it was seen precisely in this light. Thus the concluding statement first considered the human phenomenon and then the Christian: CHRISTIAN CONTEMPLATIVE COMMUNITY In order to live human life to the full, man must transcend his empirical self and so realize his True Self. This implies an openness to the Transcendent. Attention to his openness for the Transcendent makes man aware of his contemplative dimension. Contemplative life as a form of life expresses and fosters in every detail of daily living mindfulness of the Transcendent. Contemplative community is a gathering of brethren who support one another in contemplative life through a giving and receiving that is at once spontaneous and responsible. For the Christian to live the human life to the full means a dying to selfishness to enter into the life of the risen Christ. This is the conversion that leads to transformation into the New Man and to the realization of the Self as Cosmic Christ. This transfiguration is realized as the Spirit opens us to the revelation of the Father in His Word. Loving awareness./of this revelation in all its dimensions is contemplative prayer. Since Christian contemplative life focuses on the Word, it is a form of life which expresses and fosters in every detail of daily living a listening to God and a living by the Word. Some Christians called to the contemplative life gather in love and experience God by sharing solitude in common life, supporting one another as brothers. In doing so, they mediate to each other the revelation of God and they manifest the mystery of the Church as open to God in prayer. 10 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 The full significance of this statement can this schema: CONTEMPLATIVE HUMAN (1) FULLNESS In order to live human life to the full, man must transcend his empirical self and so realize his True Self. be better perceived if it is considered in COMMUNITY CHRISTIAN OF LIFE For the Christian, to live the human life to the full means a dying to selfishness to enter into the life of the risen Christ. This is the conversion that leads to transformation into the New Man and to the realization of the Self as Cosmic Christ. This implies cendent. (2) OPENNESS TO THE TRANSCENDENT an openness to the Trans- This transfiguration is realized as the Spirit opens us to the revelation of the Father in His Word. (3) CONTEMPLATIVE DIMENSION Attention to his openness for the Trans- Loving awareness to this revelation in all its cendent makes man aware of his contempla- dimensions is contemplative prayer. tire dimension. (4) CONTEMPLATIVE LIFE Contemplative life as a form of life ex- Since Christian contemplative life focuses presses and fosters in every detail of daily on the Word (Logos), it is a form of life living mindfulness of the Transcendent. which expresses and fosters in every detail of daily living a listening to God and a living by the Word. (5) CONTEMPLATIVE COMMUNITY Contemplative community is a gathering of brethren who support one another in con-templative life through a giving and receiv-ing that is at once spontaneous and respon-sible. Some Christians called to the contemplative life gather in love and experience God by sharing solitude in common life, supporting one another as brothers. In doing so, they mediate to each other the revelation of God and they manifest the mystery of the Church as open to God in prayer. This extremely rich statement summarizes a great deal of discussion and shared insight, the fruit of the labor of the experts working in panels, small group discussions, general sessions, and long night sessibns of the conclusion committee with various experts. Pages and even volumes could be written on it. The committee did offer a brief explanation or development of some of its aspects but these themselves open the way to further areas of exploration and reflection: Fullness of Life The empirical self is the self experienced as acting, reasoning, managing, controlling; not only the self as egotistical or selfish. To mistake this functional self for one's True Self is an illusion. To h~eak out of this illusion means to realize life in fullness. (We are using "tea|ize" throughout in its double sense of becoming aware and making real.) The realization of this universal Self constitutes the ultimate achievement in various spiritual traditions. In Christian tradition this breakthrough into fullness of life is our entering into the Paschal Mystery. What it means to enter into the Cosmic Christ becomes clear when we take seriously St. Paul's "I live now no longer I but Christ lives in me," and keep in mind that this is the Christ in whom, through whom, for whom all things have been created - the Cosmic Christ of Col 1 : 12-20, "Christ is the visible likeness of the invisible God. He is the firstborn Son superior to every creature, for by him God created everything . and through the Son God decided to bring the whole universe back to himself." Tradition expresses this mystery in the language of image and likeness with reference to Genesis 1:36. Community plays an essential role throughout the process in which the image is restored to its likeness (cf. Eph 1:23). Openness to the Transcendent It should be noted that we are dealing with a process, a path. Traditionally this path has been Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 11 seen as leading from knowledge of self which is humility, through knowledge of others which is compassion, to knowledge of God which is contemplation. This process cuhninates in that purity of heart which is man's transparehcy.to the deifying light, of which St. Benedict speaks, and this is true transfiguration. Contemplative Dimension The contemplative attitude is a matter of love, a matter of an intense continuous desire for God. When we speak about contemplative prayer we mean prayerfulness, not only prayers. The man of prayers strives to "pray without ceasing." In arriving at this, the "intention," that dynamic directiveness toward God explicated in a loving attitude of listening, draws the whole heart after it as the needle draws the thread. We refer to all the dimensions of re~,elation because revelation of the Triune God is in itself as it were three-dimensional. God reveals hiinself to us through his Son, the Word, through whom he created and saved everything (Heb 1:3). Thus God speaks to us through all things. We may call this the theophanic dimension of revelation. But it is only in the Spirit that we can understand God's Word, because "the things of God no one knows but the Spirit of God. Now we have received., the Spirit of God that we may know the things that have been given by God" (1 Cor 2:10-12). We may call this the pneumatic dimension. Even this revelation leaves intact the mystery of God the Father who "dwells in light inaccessible, whom no man sees or can see" (1 Tim 6:16). We may call this the apophatic dimension. Contemplative Life When we say that Christian contemplative life "focuses on the Word" we mean that it is through the Word that we come to know the Father in the Spirit. This is why Christian contemplative practice strives for an ever greater sensitivity to the Word (Ausculta) and, through the Word, to God. The clause "expresses and fosters in everyday living," refers to asceticism as practiced in monastic communities. In Cistercian monasteries, for instance, this is done by a deep commitment to the Rule of St. Benedict as interpreted by the living Cistercian tradition. Contemplative Community All Christian life includes an element of contemplation, and all Christian life implies communion. Some Christians, however, live a community life specifically dedicated to contemplative prayer. Their goal is to realize kohtonia in its full Biblical sense: personal communion with the living God and sharing in communion with brothers (cf. 1 Jn 1:3). This is contemplative community, one way of realizing concretely the mystery of the Church. We are poor men, sinners, needing help, not only God's but one another's. For this reason also we need to share a common commitment within a common life. Deep inner sharing of purpose has brought us to a community where, by mutual love and concern, respect and correction, we search, we grow, we experience God. ("Experience" here is not limited to its merely psychological sense but means a deep personal encounter with God in faith.) We support one another in this experience by praising God together, reflecting and learning, living and suffering together to be reborn together. And yet in this life together each brother is the guardian of the other's solitude, protecting it both against infringement and against deteriora-tion into loneliness. Some people need more solitude and others need more togetherness. This implies a true pluralism among communities and in community. The practical question which had inaugurated the Third Symposium had been formulated thus: To see more clearly the problems inherent in the life-situation when men freely gather together and commit themselves to live together in a Christian community for the precise purpose of obtaining for each one the maximal freedom to respond to God in prayer and contemplation (and) of fostering each one's growth in this (and) to seek out, as best we can, genui~tely practical responses to these problems. 12 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 In more concrete terms: I am a Cistercian. 1 live in community. 1 am trying to be a man of prayer. I want to be fully responsive to my community, each man in it and the community as a whole. At the same time 1 want to live an intense prayer life and attain to the deepest possible union with God and experience of Him. In view of this twofold concern what are the difficulties and tensions i am running into and how practically can we best resolve them? Its answer is found in two related insights: an understanding of what might be called incarnational;contemplative prayer, and of unity in pluralism. As the statement above brings out, contemplative prayer, the contemplative attitude, lies in openness to God, responsiveness to God, God who has revealed Himself to us. We know that this God, our God - indeed the only God - is always beyond all His revelations and manifestations; yet He is known and contacted in and through them. His revelation of Himself is to be found not only in the Sacred Books or in the depths of one's own soul, but in all creation, His work which He ever keeps in being, sharing His being, and above all, in the creature He made to His own image and likeness: man. If one approaches creation and especially his fellow man with the Christian contemplative attitude, then this is contemplative prayer. He contacts God and responds to Him as He is revealing Himself. But a man can not do this unless he does have in his life, besides times of communion with creation and with his brethren, periods of silence and solitude wherein he can become aware of his own contemplative dimension and learn to live and respond at this level. Thus it is necessary for the contemplative community to structure itself to some extent at least so that each member can be assured of the time and leisure (which is something more than just time) he needs for this. The other practices of the traditional Christian ascesis are also presupposed. Even when the legitimacy of the incarnational approach to contemplative living is fully established, it remains that this is not the primary attraction or call of all contemplatives. And thus it does not provide the only or wholly adequate answer to our question. There must be within the contemplative community a healthy pluralism which responds to the members' diverse ways of perceiving God and consequently their diverse ways of seeking Him. The official report of the Symposium summed up the conclusions of the Symposium on this point in this way: Unity and Pluralism The contemplative community finds its unity in its common basic orientation toward listening to God and living by the Word. It experiences this unity insofar as the members are able to communicate to one another that they do share this common orientation. Some of the ways in which this is done are through common prayer, praise and Eucharist, through sharing a common spirituality, through accepting the common leadership of an abbot, through example, through participation in common exercises, mutual service and community support, through the charity of fraternal correction, through a common sharing of the responsibility to work toward unity, and through interpersonal encounter in which the brethren share deeply what God is accomplishing in their lives. Their very oneness in Christ makes them essentially sharers. There can be true pluralism only insofar as there is true unity in this basic orientation because pluralism is the expression and realization of the same ideals or orientation in different ways. Psychologically a community can peacefully accept pluralism and not experience it as threatening to its unity if there is among the brethren sufficient knowledge of each other's sharing in the common goal to allow each to have confidence that his brothers are with him in this. Within the ambiance of this common basic orientation each one, according to his own proper attraction, will seek God in different ways placing more emphasis on one approach or another. Some will more readily seek and find him in the depths of their own being, others in their brothers, in creation, in all the details of everyday life. The former will mediate God to their brothers more by example or "image," the others more by "word," interpersonal relations and shared activities. Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 13 Within a truly united community there can be a very extensive spectrum of diversity, a very rich pluralism. Such pluralism manifests the great vitality of a united community. Guidelines as norms which set certain limits to pluralism can help a community to be faithful to its basic orientation and invite it to a deeper awareness of it. But ideally such guidelines should merely reflect values which are personally possessed and cherished by all the members of the community. Finally the report of the meeting added a few brief considerations on the present situation vis-,~-vis the contemplative community: Dynamism of the Present Situation Contemplative life today is an adventure, a risk demanding acceptance in faith of difficult situations, a realistic living of the Mystery of Christ, all the while open to the Spirit so that he may move us. In our present situation it is necessary not only to be aware of our past but also of a future that is unfolding with ever greater rapidity. To be a member of a contemplative community is to accept and embrace with joy the death and rebirth into new life that continually mark a vital community life. Love has to express itself in patience, trust and hope in the face of insecurity in the situations that we encounter today. In periods of transition we experience a certain polarization. In the midst of this we can find u~nity in working together toward a fuller unity to be achieved in the future. There is a new form of asceticism in accepting change in a spirit of detachment and in not forcing change on others. Some unusual situations can demand decisions. In regard to fidelity to one's community, only when it becomes clear that the community's evolving orientation blocks the realization of an essential dimension of one's response to God should a person consider separating himself. Honest recognition of community problems is a first step toward building the future. In formulating solutions the community, head and members, listen to one another, always keeping their basic values and orientations in view. We have to love one another. We need to be healed. There is much pain in the perfecting of a contemplative community but this very pain can be the means of bringing forth life and growth. We live in a new age and must find new solutions for problems, some old and some never before encountered. All who took part in the Symposium felt it was a very enriching experience. A report can hardly do justice to the immense wealth brought to the discussions by the large and most capable panel of experts. But perhaps far more important was the strengthening witness shared by all there, a witness given not only by the participants, one to another, but that of the wonderful contemplative community which hosted the meeting. The large and flourishing community of Notre Dame du Lac with its most generous and open hospitality, its vital celebration of the daily liturgy, and its very evident commitment to contemplative living provided the most ideal context for a symposium on contemplative community. The papers and conclusions of the Third Cistercian Symposium will be published shortly by Cistercian Publications in Volume Twenty-one of the "Cistercian Studies Series": Contemplative Community: A n Interdisciplinary Symposium. GEORGE A. ASCHENBRENNER, S.J. Consciousness Examen [George A. Aschenbrenner, S.J.,is the director of novices in the Maryland Province of the Society of Jesus; Novitiate of St. Isaac Jogues; Wernersville, Pennsylvania 19565.] Examen is usually the first practice to disappear from the daily life of the religious. This occurs for many reasons; but all the reasons amount to the admission (rarely explicit) that it is not of immediate practical value in a busy day. My point in this article is that all these reasons and their false conclusion spring from a basic misunderstanding of the examen as practiced in religious life. Examen must be seen in relationship to discernment of spirits. It is a daily intensive exercise of discernment in a person's life. Examen of Consciousness For many youth today life is spontaneity if anything. If spontaneity is crushed or aborted, then life itself is stillborn. In this view examen is living life once removed from the spontaneity of life. It is a reflective, dehydrated approach which dries all the spontaneity out of life. These people today disagree with Socrates' claim that the unexamined life is not worth living. For these people the Spirit is in the spontaneous and so anything that militates against spontaneity is un-Spirit-ual. This view overlooks the fact that welling up in the consciousness and experience of each of us are two spontaneities, one good and for God, another evil and not for God. These two types of spontaneous urges and movements happen to all of us. So often the quick-witted, loose-tongued person who can be so entertaining and the center of attention and who is always characterized as being so spontaneous is not certainly being moved by and giving expression to the good spontaneity. For one eager to love God with his or her whole being, the challenge is not simply to let the spontaneous happen but rather to be able to sift'out these various spontaneous urges and give full existential ratification to those spontaneous feelings that are from and for God. We do this by allowing the truly Spirited-spontaneity to happen in our daily lives. But we must learn the feel of this true Spirited-spontaneity. Examen has a very central role in this learning. When examen is related to discernment, it becomes examen of consciousness rather than of conscience. Examen of conscience has narrow moralistic overtones. Though we were always told that examen of conscience in religious life was not the same as a preparation for confession, it was actually explained and treated as though it were much the same. The prime concern was with what good or bad actions we had done each day. In discernment the prime concern is not with the morality of good or bad actions; rather the concern is how the Lord is affecting and moving us (often quite spontaneously!) deep in our own affective consciousness. What is happening in our consciousness is prior to and more important than our actions which can be delineated as ju~'idically good or evil. How we are experiencing the "drawing" of the Father (Jn 6:44) in our own existential consciousness and how our sinful nature is quietly tempting us and luring us away from our Father in Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 15 subtle dispositions of our consciousness - this is what the daily examen is concerned with prior to a concern for our response in our actions. So it is examen of consciousness that we are concerned with here, so that we can cooperate with and let happen that beautiful, spontaneity in Our hearts which is the touch of our Father and the urging of the Spirit. Examen and Religious Identity The examen we are talking about here is not a Ben Franklin-like striving for self-perfection. We are talking about an experience in faith of growing sensitivity to the unique, intimately special ways that the Lord's Spirit has of approaching and calling us. Obviously it takes time for this growth. But in this sense examen is a daily renewal and growth in our religious identity - this unique flesh-spirit person being loved by God and called by Him deep in his personal affective world. It is not possible for me to make an examen without confronting my own identity in Christ before the Father - my own religious identity as poor, celibate, and obedient in imitation of Christ as experienced in the charism of my religious vocation. And yet so often our daily examen becomes so general and vague and unspecific that our religious identity (Jesuit, Dominican, Franciscan, and so forth) does not seem to make any difference. Examen assumes real value when it becomes a daily experience of confrontation and renewal of our unique religious identity and how the Lord is subtly inviting us to deepen and develop this identity. We should make examen each time with as precise a grasp as we have now on our religious identity. We do not make it just as any Christian but as this specific Christian person with a unique vocation and grace in faith. Examen and Prayer The examen is a time of prayer. The dangers of an empty self-reflection or an unhealthy self-centered introspection are very real. On the other hand, a lack of effort at examen and the approach of living according to what comes naturally keeps us quite superficial and insensitive to the subtle and profound ways of the Lord deep in our hearts. The prayerful quality and effectiveness of the examen itself depends upon its relationship to the continuing contemplative prayer of the person. Without this relationship examen slips to the level of self-reflection for self-perfection, if it perdures at all. In daily contemplative prayer the Father reveals to us at His own pace the order of the mystery of all reality in Christ - as Paul says to the Colossians: ". those to whom God has planned to give a vision of the full wonder and splendor of his secret plan for the nations" (Col 1:27). The contemplator experiences in many subtle, chiefly non-verbal, ways this revelation of the Father in Christ. The presence of the Spirit of the risen Jesus in the heart of the believer makes it possible to sense and "hear" this invitation (challenge!) to order ourselves to this revelation. Contempla-tion is empty without this "ordering" response. This kind of reverent, docile (the "obedience of faith" Paul speaks of in Rom 16:26), and non-moralistic ordering is the work of the daily examen - to sense and recognize those interior invitations of the Lord that guide and deepen this ordering from day to day and not to cooperate with those subtle insinuations opposed to that ordering. Without that contemplative contact with the Father's revelation of reality in Christ, both in formal prayer and informal prayerfulness, the daily practice of examen becomes empty; it shrivels up and dies. Without this "listening" to the Father's revelation of His ways which are so different from our own (Is 55:8-9), examen again becomes that shaping up of ourselves which is 16 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 human and natural self-perfection or, even worse, it can become that selfish ordering of ourselves to our own ways. Examen without regular contemplation is futile. A failure at regular contempla-tion emaciates the beautifully rich experience of response-ible ordering which the contemplative is continually invited to by the Lord. It is true, on the other hand, that contemplation without regular examen becomes compartmentalized and superficial and stunted in a person's life. The time of formal prayer can become a very sacrosanct period in a person's day but so isolated from the rest of his life that he is not prayerful (finding God in all things) at that level where he really lives. The examen gives our daily contemplative experience of God real bite into all our daily living; it is an important means to finding God in everything and not just in the time of formal prayer, as we will explain at the end of this article. ADiscerning Vision of Heart When we first learned about the examen in religious life, it was a specific exercise of prayer for about a quarter of an hour. And at first it seemed quite stylized and almost artificial. This problem was not in the examen-prayer but in ourselves; we were beginners and had not yet worked out that integration in ourselves of a process of personal discernment to be expressed in daily examens. For the beginner, before he has achieved much of a personalized integration, an exercise or process can be very valuable and yet seem formal and stylized. This should not put us off. It will be the inevitable experience in religious life for the novice and for the "oldtimer" who is beginning again at examen. But examen will fundamentally be misunderstood if the goal of this exercise is not grasped. The specific exercise of examen is ultimately aimed at developing a heart with a discerning vision to be active not only for one or two quarter-hour periods in a day but continually. This is a gift from the Lord -- a most important one as Solomon realized (1 Kings 3:9-12). So we must constantly pray for this gift, but we must also be receptive to its development within our hearts. A daily practice of examen is essential to this development. Hence the five steps of the exercise of examen as presented in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola (# 43) are to be seen, and gradually experienced in faith, as dimensions of the Christian consciousness, formed by God and His work in the heart as it confronts and grows within this world and all of reality. If we allow the Father gradually to transform our mind and heart into that of His Son, to become truly Christian, through our living experience in this world, then the examen, with its separate elements now seen as integrated dimensions of our own consciousness looking out on the world, is much more organic to our outlook and will seem much less contrived. So there is no ideal time allocation for the five elements of the examen each time but rather a daily organic expression of the spiritual mood of the heart. At one time we are drawn to one element longer than the others and at another time to another element over the others. The mature Ignatius near the end of his life was always examining every movement and inclination of his heart which means he was discerning the congruence of everything with his true Christ-centered self. This was the overflow of those regular intensive prayer-exercises of examen every day. The novice or "oldtimer" must be aware both of the point of the one or two quarter-hour exercises of examen each day, namely, a continually discerning heart, and of the necessary gradual adaptation of his practice of examen to his stage of development and the situation in the world in which he finds himself. And yet we are all aware Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 17 of the subtle rationalization of giving up formal examen each day because we have "arrived at" that continually discerning heart. This kind of rationalization will prevent further growth in faith sensitivity to the Spirit and His ways in our daily lives. Let us now take a look at the format of the examen as presented by St. Ignatius in the Spiritual Exercises, #43 but in light of these previous comments on examen as discerning consciousness within the world. Prayer for Enlightenment In the Exercises Ignatius has an act of thanksgiving as the first part of the examen. The first two parts could be interchanged without too much difference. In fact, I would suggest the prayer for enlightenment as a fitting introduction to the examen. The examen is not simply a matter of a person's natural power of memory and analysis going back over a part of the day. It is a matter of Spirit-guided insight into my life and courageously responsive sensitivity to God's call in my heart. What we are seeking here is that gradually growing appreciative insight into the mystery which I am. Without the Father's revealing grace this kind of insight is not possible. The Christian must be careful not to get locked into the world of his own human natural powers. Our technological world can pose as a special danger in this regard. Founded on a deep appreciation of the humanly interpersonal, the Christian in faith transcends the boundaries of the here-and-now with its limited natural causality and discovers a Father who loves and works in and through and beyond all., For this reason we begin the examen with an explicit petition for that enlightenment which will occur in and through our own powers but which our own natural powers could never be capable of all by themselves. That the Spirit may help me to see myself a bit more as He sees me Himself! Reflective Thanksgiving The stance of a Christian in the midst of the world is that of a poor person, possessing nothing, not even himself, and yet being gifted at every instant in and through everything. When we become too affluently involved with ourselves and deny our inherent poverty, then we lose the gifts and either begin to make demands for what we think we deserve (often leading to angry frustration) or we blandly take for granted all that comes our way. Only the truly poor person can appreciate the slightest gift and feel genuine gratitude. The more deeply we live in faith the poorer we are and the more gifted; life itself becomes humble, joyful thanksgiving. This should gradually become an element of our abiding consciousness. After the introductory prayer for enlightenment our hearts should rest in genuine faith-filled gratitude to our Father for His gifts in this most recent part of the day. Perhaps in the spontaneity of the happening we were not aware of the gift and now in this exercise of reflective prayer we see the events in a very different perspective. Our sudden gratitude - now the act of a humble selfless pauper - helps make us ready to discover the gift more clearly in a future sudden spontaneity. Our gratitude should center on the concrete, uniquely personal gifts that each of us was blessed with, whether large and obviously important or tiny and apparently insignificant. There is much in our lives that we take for granted; gradually He will lead us to a deep realization that all isgift. It is right to give Him praise and thanks! Practical Survey of Actions In this third element of the examen ordinarily we rush to review, in some specific 18 Review for Religious, Volume .31, 1972/1 detail, our actions of that part of the day just finished so we can catalogue them as good or bad. Just what we shouldn't do! Our prime concern here in faith is what has been happening to and in us since the last exa.men. The operative questions are: what has been happening in us, how has the Lord been working in us, what has He been asking us. And only secondarily are our own actions to be considered. This part of the examen presumes that we have become sensitive to our interior feelings, moods, and slightest urgings and that we are not frightened by them but have learned to take them very seriously. It is here in~ the depths of our affectivity, so spontaneous, strong, and shadowy at times, that God moves us and deals with us most intimately. These interior moods, feelings, urges, and movements are the "spirits" that must be sifted out, discerned, so we can recognize the Lord's call to us at this intimate core of our being. As we have; said above, the examen is a chief means to this discerning of our interior consciousness. This presumes a real faith approach to life - that life is first listening, then acting in response: The fundamental attitude of the believer is of one who listens. It is to the Lord's utterances that he gives ear. In as many different ways and on as many varied levels as the listener can d"iosbceedrnie tnhcee wofo rfdai tahn.d" .w. iIltl oisf tthhee Laottridtu mdaen oiffe srteecde tpot ihvinit~y, ,h pe amsussitv rietsypoIn adn wdi tpho avlel rthtye oPfa uolninee who is always in need, radically dependent, conscious of his creaturehood. Hence the great need for interior quiet, peace, and a passionate receptivity that attunes us to listening to God's word at every instant and in every situation and then responding in our own activity. Again in a world that is founded more on activity (becoming activism), productivity, and efficiency (whereas efficacity is a norm for the kingdom of God!) this faith view is implicitly, if not explicitly, challenged at every turn in the road. And so our first concern here is with these subtle.intimate, affective ways in which the Lord has been dealing with us during these past few hours. Perhaps we did not recognize Him calling in that past moment, but now our vision is clear and direct. Secondarily our concern is with our actions insofar as they were responses to His calling. So often our activity becomes primary to hs and all sense of response in our activity is lost. We become self-moved and mbtivated rather than moved and motivated by the Spirit (Rom 8:14). This is a subtle lack of faith and failure to live as a son or daughter of our Father. In the light of faith it is the quality (of responsive-ness) of the activity, more than the activity itself, which makes the difference for the kingdom of God. , In this general review there is no strain to reproduce every second since the last examen; rather our concern is with specific details and incidents as they reveal patterns and bring some clarity and insight. This brings us to a consideration of what Ignatius calls the particular examen. This element of the examen, perhaps more than any other, has been misunder-stood. It has often become an effort to divide and conquer by moving down the list of vices or up the list of virtues in a mechanically planned approach to self-perfection. A certain amount of time was spent on each vice or virtue one by one, and then we moved on to the next one on the list. Rather than a practical programmed approach to perfection, the parti'cular examen is meant to be a reverently honest, personal meeting with the Lordfin our own hearts. I David Asselin, S.J., "Christian Maturity and Spiritual Discernment," Review for Religious, v. 27 (1968), p. 594. Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 19 When we become sensitive and serious enough about loving God, we begin to realize some changes must be made. We are deficient in so many areas and so many defects must be done away with. But the Lord does not want all of them to be handled at once. Usually there is one area of our hearts where He is especially calling for conversion which is always the beginning of new life. He is interiorly nudging us in one area and reminding us that if we are really serious about Him this one aspect of ourselves must be changed. This is often precisely the one area we want to forget and (maybe!) work on later. We do not want to let His word condemn us in this one area and so we try to forget it and distract ourselves by working on some other safer area which does require conversion but not with the same urgent sting of consciousness that is true of the former area. It is in this first area of our hearts, if we will be honest and open with the Lord, where we are very personally experiencing the Lord in the burning fire of His Word as He confronts us here and now. So often we fail to recognize this guilt for what it really is or we try to blunt it by working hard on something else that we may want to correct whereas the Lord wants something else here and now. For beginners it takes time to become interiorly sensitive to God before they gradually come to recognize the Lord's cidl to conversion (maybe involving a very painful struggle!) in some area of their lives. It is better for beginners to take this time to learn what the Lord wants their particular examen now to be rather than just taking some assigned imperfection to get started on. And so the particular examen is very personal, honest, and at times a very subtle experience of the Lord calling in our hearts for deeper conversion to Himself. The matter of the conversion may remain the same for a long period of time, but the important thing is our sense of His personal challenge to us. Often this experience of the Lord calling for conversion in one small part of our hearts takes the expression of good healthy guilt which should be carefully interpreted and responded to if there is to be progress in holiness. When the particular examen is seen as this personal experience of the Lord's love for us, then we can understand why St. Ignatius suggests that we turn our whole consciousness to this experience of the Lord (whatever it be in all practicality, for example, more subtle humility or readiness to get involved with people on their terms, etc.) at those two very important moments in our day, when we begin our day and when we close it, besides the formal examen times. In this third dimension of the formal examen the growing faith sense of our sinfulness is very central. This is more of a spiritual faith reality as revealed by the Father in our experience than a heavily moralistic and guilt-laden reality. A deep sense of sinfulness depends on our growth in faith and is a dynamic realization which always ends in thanksgiving - the song of a "saved sinner." In his book Growth in the Spirit, Francgis Roustang, in the second chapter, speaks very profoundly about sinfulness and thanksgiving. This can provide enormous insight into the relationship of these second and third elements of the formal examen, especially as dimensions of our abiding Christian consciousness. Contrition and Sorrow The Christian heart is always a heart in song - a song of deep joy and gratitude. But the Alleluia can be quite superficial and without body and depth unless it is genuinely touched with sorrow. This is the song of a sinner constantly aware of being prey to his sinful tendencies and yet being converted into the newness which is guaranteed in the victory of Jesus Christ. Hence, we never grow out of a sense of wonder-ful sorrow in the presence of our Savior. 2O Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 This basic dimension of our heart's vision which the Father desires to deepen in us as He converts us from sinners to His sons and daughters, if we allow Him, is here applied to the specifics of our actions since the lhst examen, especially insofar as they were selfishly inadequate responses to the Lord's work in our hearts. This sorrow will especially spring from the lack of honesty and courage in responding to the Lord's call in the particular examen. This contrition and sorrow is not a shame nor a depression at our weakness but a faith experience as we grow in our realization of our Father's awesome desire that we love Him with every ounce of our being. After this description, the value of pausing each day in formal examen and giving concrete expression to this abiding sense of sorrow in our hearts should be quite obvious and should flow naturally from the third element of practical survey of our actions. Hopeful Resolution for Future This final element of the formal daily examen grows very naturally out of the previous elements. The organic development leads us to face the future which is now rising to encounter us and become integrated into our lives. In the light of our present discernment of the immediate past how do we look to the future? Are we discouraged or despondent or fearful of the future? If this is the atmosphere of our hearts now, we must wonder why and try to interpret this atmosphere; we must be honest in acknowledging our feeling for the future, and not repress it by hoping it will go away. The precise expression of this final element will be determined by the organic flow of this precise examen now. Accordingly, this element of resolution for the immediate future will never happen the same way each time. If it did happen in the same expression each time, it would be a sure sign that we were not really entering into the previous four elements of the examen. At this point in the examen there should be a great desire to face the future with renewed vision and sensitivity as we pray both t~ recognize even more the subtle ways in which the Lord will greet us and to hear His Word call us in the existential situation of the future and to respond to His call with more faith, humility, and courage. This should be especially true of that intimate abiding experience of the Lord calling for painful conversion in some area of our heart - what we have called the particular examen. A great hope should be the atmosphere of our hearts at this point - a hope not founded on our own deserts, or our own powers for the future, but rather founded much more fully in our Father whose glorious victory in Jesus Christ we share through the life of Their Spirit in our hearts. The more we will trust God and allow Him to lead in our lives, the more we will experience true supernatural hope in God painfully in and through, but quite beyond, our own weak powers - an experience at times frightening and emptying but ultimately joyfully exhilarating. St. Paul in this whole passage from the Letter to the Philippians (3:7-14) expresses well the spirit of this conclusion of the formal examen: ". I leave the past behind and with hands outstretched to whatever lies ahead I go straight for the goal" (3:13). Examen and Discernment We will close this article with some summary remarks about the examen, as here described, and disceinment of spirits. When examen is understood in this light and so practiced each day, then it becomes so much more than just a brief exercise performed once or twice ~ day and which is quite secondary to our formal prayer Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 21 and active living of God's love in our daily situation. Rather it becomes an exercise which so focuses and renews our specific faith identity that we should be even more reluctant to omit our examen than our formal contemplative prayer each day. This seems to have been St. Ignatius' view of the practice of the examen. He never talks of omitting it though he does talk of adapting and abbreviating the daily meditation for various reasons. For him it seems the examen was central and quite inviolate. This strikes us as strange until we revamp our understanding of the examen. Then perhaps we begin to see the examen as so intimately connected to our growing identity and so important to our finding God in all things at all times that it becomes our central daily experience of prayer. For Ignatius finding God in all things is what life is all about. Near the end of his life he said that "whenever he wished, at whatever hour, he could find God" (Autobiography, # 99). This is the mature Ignatius who had so fully allowed God to possess every ounce of his being through a clear YES to the Father that radiated from the very core of his being, that he could be conscious at any moment he wanted of the deep peace, joy, and contentment (consolation, see the Exercises, # 316) which was the experience of God at the center of his heart. Ignatius' identity, at this point in his life, was quite fully and clearly "in Christ" as Paul says: "For now my place is in him, and I am not dependent upon any of the self-achieved righteousness of the Law" (Phil 3:9); Ignatius knew and was his true self in Christ. Being able to find God whenever he wanted, Ignatius was now able to find Him in all things through a test for congruenc~ of any interior impulse, mood, or feeling with his true self. Whenever he found interior consonance within himself (which registers as peace, joy, contentment again) from the immediate interior movement and felt himself being his true congruent self, then he knew he had heard God's word to him at that instant. And he responded with that fullness of humble courage so typical of Ignatius. If he discovered interior dissonance, agitation, and disturb-ance "at the bottom of the heart" (to be carefully distinguished from repugnance "at the top of the head''2) and could not find his true congruent self in Christ, then he recognized the interior impulse as an "evil spirit" and he experienced God by "going against" the desolate impulse (cf. Exercises, # 319). In this way he was able to find God in all things by carefully discerning all his interior experiences ("spirits"). Thus discernment of spirits became a daily very practical living of the art of loving God with his whole heart, whole body, and whole strength. Every moment of life was loving (finding) God in the existential situation in a deep quiet, peace, and joy. For Ignatius, this finding God in the prese.nt interior movement, feeling, or option was almost instantaneous in his mature years because the central "feel" or "bent" of his being had so been grasped by God. For the beginner, what was almost instantaneous for the mature Ignatius may require the effort of a prayerful process of a few hours or days depending on the importance of the movement-impulse to be discerned. In some of his writings, Ignatius uses examen to refer to this almost instantaneous test for congruence with his true self - something he could do a number of times every hour of the day. But he also speaks of examen in the formal restricted sense of two quarter-hour exercises of prayer a day. The intimate and essential relationship between these two senses of examen has been the point of this whole article. 2john Carroll Futrell, S.J., Ignatian Discernment (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970), p. 64. IEDWABD CARTIER, S.J. Pluralism in Christian Life [ Edward Carter, S.J., author of Response in Christ (1969) and Spirituality for Modern Man (197 I), is associate professor of theology at Xavier University ; Cincinnati, Ohio 4520"/.] There has always been a certain diversity which has characterized the history of Christian life or spirituality. There have been different schools of spirituality, different trends, different emphases; but all of these, in so far as they have been authentic, have been rooted in the same gospel message. They have, each in their own manner, been reflections of the one mystery of Christ. Today's Church is marked by an accentuation of this diversity in spirituality or Christian living. But before fastening our gaze upon the contemporary scene, let us first reflect upon some of the theological principles which give rise to this diversity or pluralism. The first of these principles concerns the mystery of Christ as relived by Church and Christian. The People of God, individually and collectively, are meant to continue the redemptive Incarnation in space and time by reliving the life, death, and resurrection of Christ - the mystery of Christ. The mystery of Christ, however, is richly d.iversified. Jesus in His life, death, and resurrection has left us many different truths and examples to be incorporated into our own Christian existence. Historically, this rich variation of the mystery of Christ has given rise to different schools of spirituality. Each of these gives a special witness to this or that aspect of the Christ-event, to its own particular harmonization and implementation of the various facets which comprise this event - the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. For instance, Carmelite spirituality has always stressed prayer, as it gives a special witness to the Christ who often went aside and prayed to His heavenly Father. Benedictine spirituality gives a special attention to liturgy, and, consequently, emphasizes the priestly activity of Christ. Dominican spirituality has traditionally stressed the pursuit of truth as it points in its own special manner to the prophetic or teaching office of Christ. Franciscan spirituality, among other things, has emphasized the material simplicity of Jesus' life. Ignatian spirituality has stressed as one of its leading characteristics the union of a~tion and contemplation - both of which were marvelously blended in the life of Jesus. In more recent times, in the effort to apply in a special way the mystery of Christ to the diocesan priesthood and to the laity, there have been writings dealing with the spiritualities appropriate to these two vocations. The mystery of Christ, then, possessing at one and the same time a varied richness and a profound unity, makes possible different spiritual movements which, however, ultimately comprise but one Christian spirituality. Consequently, we must preserve a balanced view. We must admit the legitimacy of varied spiritual movements and schools of spirituality with their own particular nuances in the following of Christ, while at the same time realizing that all Christian spiritualities are essentially the same. They have very much in common since they are rooted in the one Christ, in one and the same total Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 23 gospel, in one and the same liturgy. We have established what is a very basic theological reason for diversity in spirituality - the diversity which is contained in the very mystery of Christ. There are two more principles we would now like "to discuss which help us to see' the utility and even necessity of diversity or pluralism in the Christian life. These second and third principles are connected with what we might term the theology of personal uniqueness, and the theology of time and culture. The theology of personal uniqueness tells us that each human person is an eternal imitation of God. Any one individual can truthfully say that there never has been, is not now, nor ever will be, any other person like himself. Each person is a eternal uniqueness. As we are elevated to supernatural life through our incorporation into Christ, this personal uniqueness is .deepened. This is simply an application of the theological principle that grace does not destroy nor lessen nature, but perfects it, gives it a deepened capacity to actuate more deeply all its authentic dimensions. One of these dimensions is personal uniqueness. Our life in Christ, then, far from destroying or lessening our uniqueness, respects and develops it. There are various implications and ramifications flowing out of this theology of personal uniqueness relative to diversity or pluralism in spirituality. We have said that there are various spiritual movements and schools of spirituality because of the possibility of reliving the richly diversified .mystery of Christ with different emphases and nuances. As this diversity is possible between schools of spirituality, so is it possible in reference to individuals. Not only is it possible, but it is actually necessary because of the concept of personal uniqueness. No two Christians will put on Christ in exactly the same manner; for they put on Christ according to what each is. Although obviously each Christian is to assimilate Christ in essentially the same manner, he will also do it in a manner which cannot be duplicated. He will offer Christ his own unique person with his unique temperament, personality, capacities, and talents. Through the uniqueness of this Christian, Christ continues His redemptive Incarnation in a particular way, a way which cannot be duplicated. Consequently, even though two individuals are following the same spirituality - Dominican, Franciscan, Ignatian, or any other - there will be a difference or a diversity manifested as they live out this common spirituality. Sometimes this diversity will be quite striking. This does not mean that one or the other has wavered from the spiritual tradition to which each has committed himself or herself. Of course, such a diversity could be so explained in certain instances. But a diversity, and again even a striking one, could be present as each is authentically living out the one spiritual tradition which they profess in common. In such cases the diversity is to be explained by the principle of personal uniqueness. Furthermore, pluralism or diversity in the Christian life is found not only between the different spiritualities, not only between individuals, but also within the extended existence of the same individual. Contemporary thought has empha-sized that man and his world must be considered according to a framework which has a dynamic, progressive, evolutionary dimension. We now realize that we must not view man as being a static creature. While it is obviously important to realize that man is always essential!y the same throughout the ages, it is also very important to remember that man has a thrust toward change, toward evolving into what he is yet to become,.toward authentically adapting to the signs of the times. If such truths are applicable to mankind in general, they are also proportionately pertinent to each individual. Because each individual has an evolutionary dimen-. sion, a thrust toward that which has not yet been achieved, an innate desire to 24 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 become more what his uniqueness is destined to be, he is simultaneously always the same individual and always a dynamically different individual. One's personal uniqueness, then, has both an unchangeable and a changeable dimension. We can see the implications of this for one's Christian existence. Because the Christian is meant to change dynamically and evolve into a greater assimilation to Christ, his needs are not always the same. While he must always strive to maintain a proper balance of the Christian essentials according to his present spiritual condition and development, his needs may vary.'At a certain time he may be attracted to giving a considerable amount of time to formal prayer. At another time, while not neglecting set times of prayer, he may feel called to a greater external involvement for the cause of Christ. At certain periods of his life he may feel a need for frequent spiritual direction, while at other times the intervals of this direction will be greatly lengthened. A person can feel a graced attraction for the renunciation of certain created goods and values at one time, while at another he is drawn rather to use and relate to them in a proper fashion. While always striving to have a proper balance in his imitation of Christ, he can differ in his desire to focus his attention now on this, now on that event of Jesus' life, now on this truth of Christ, now on another. Spiritual diversity or pluralism, consequently, is present within the one and same Christian individual. Having seen how diversity is present in the Christian life because of the principle of pluralism contained in the very mystery of Christ, and because of the principle of personal uniqueness, we now come to our third and final principle which helps provide a basis for such diversity or pluralism. This principle deals with ideas contained in what can be called the theology of time and culture. In God's dealings with mankind, the concepts of time, or of historical situation, and culture, have played a very important role. In saving man, God works within time, history, and culture. His salvific action is not unnaturally superimposed upon man's historical and cultural situation. Rather, God's salvific process works within time, history, and culture. Consequently, His saving will throughout the continued course of salvation history manifests itself differently - diversely or pluralistically. This diversity or pluralism of God's salvific activity can in part be explained by the factor of historical and cultural exigency. A .classic example of this is the comparison between the old and new covenants. God's dealings with the people of the Mosaic covenant were conditioned both by the point of time in salvation history that was then actually operative, and the culture of the Jewish people. With the enfleshment of His Son and the ensuing formation of the new covenant, God communicated Himself in a manner partially different from that Self-communica-tion which prevailed during the time of the Mosaic covenant. If God's salvific activity has a pluralism or diversity attached to it because He respects the time-conditioned and culture-conditioned life situation of man, so must there be a similarly caused pluralism in Christian life. For the Christian life is radically a response to God's salvific activity, a response to His loving initiative which always precedes us. God's activity, respecting the differences which time and culture insert into human history, will exact differentiated responses from the Christian community. This differentiation or pluralism can exist between the various ages of the Church, and, therefore, we legitimately speak of the pre-dominant spirituality of the sixteenth century or of a certain period within the eighteenth century. This pluralism can also exist within the same age because of cultural differences. God respects the African culture, the Chinese culture, the American culture, and so forth. As Christians within these various cultures respond Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/I 25 to God's continued Self-communication, they will do so in a manner which is partly determined by their particular cultures. Because there are differences in their cultures, we will find a Christian pluralism arising out of these cultural differences. An African spirituality will differ somewhat from an American spirituality, and they both will differ from a Spanish spirituality. Up to this point we have been discussing basic truths and principles which offer a sound theological basis for pluralism in Christian spirituality. This pluralism, while obviously having a place in any age of Christianity, is an especially important dimension of contemporary Christian life; for today's Church offers a particularly advantageous climate for the development of authentic pluralism in Christian living. This favorable climate has developed because of the greater spirit of freedom which is present in today's Church. True, this greater freedom has been abused in many instances, but this fact cannot deny that God seems to intend this climate of expanded freedom in today's Church, for this freedom has emanated from the very truths and principles of Vatican II. The connection between pluralism and a Church which allows a greater freedom of thought and life style expression is obvious. In such a Church various thrusts of pluralism and diversity are bound to fructify more often than in a Church which is heavily monolithic, a Church which has its thought and life style too much imposed from the top down. The hierarchy will always have the leading role in directing the Christian thought and life style of the People of God, but it must do so according to the principle of collegiality. This principle allows for all members of the People of God to help shape the life of the Church. However, in order to flourish, collegiality needs a spirit of freedom, some elbow room in which to maneuver - and, yes, even in which to make some mistakes. Consequently, even though some are tempted to think at times that the greater freedom of today's Church has resulted in more harm than good, fundamentally this is not true. In the last analysis such a Church will be a healthier and more mature Church - and one characterized by a greater pluralism in her Christian life. There are already various examples of an increased pluralism in today's Christian life. For instance, the liturgical aspect of today's spirituality is greatly diversified when compared to the liturgical situation of ten years ago. As for the apostolic dimension of contemporary Christian life, there has been considerable discussion and implementation relative to pluralism in Christian ministry. Also, Christian life style is considerably more pluralistic today than previously. This greater diversity of life style can be found even within the one and same religious order or congregation. There has also been a much greater pluralism in theological thought, a pluralism which often filters down and makes its impact on spirituality, on Christian living. New and diversified forms of prayer have appeared to take their places alongside the traditional ones. These, then, are some indications that today's Christian life is marked by an increased diversity. There are three special qualities which are necessary to live properly in today's Christian community with its increased pluralism. These qualities are not mutually exclusive. There is an overlap between them, but each has its own particular nuance. First of all, there is the need for an increased awareness of the necessity of spiritual discernment. Among the diverse movements in today's Church, which are really Spirit-led? And after I satisfy myself as to which are Spirit-inspired and which are not, which one does the Spirit intend for me personally? Regardless of any particular age of the Church, the Spirit does not intend any one person to incorporate within his own Christian existence all authentic thought styles and life 26 Review for Religious, Volume 3 I, 1972/i styles. But in an age when authentic possibilities have been greatly increased and diversified, the necessity for spiritual discernment becomes more obvious. To cope properly with today's pluralism we also especially need the quality of Christian maturity. Increased diversity within the Church demands increased maturity. In the more tightly structured and monolithic Church of pre-Vatican II days, we had things spelled out for us in much greater detail compared to the situation which prevails today. The Church of today is asking us to exercise a greater maturity, a more mature use of our freedom, as we are called upon to live responsibly in a more pluralistic Church. The Church is asking us to use our greater freedom properly, not to abuse it, but to direct it, among other ways, at the development of an authentic pluralism. Finally, besides an increased sense of Christian discernment and maturity, there is a special need today for the spirit of Chrisitan tolerance - a tolerance of the views and life styles which do not agree with my own. The need for this spirit of tolerance is indeed evident if only we look at what each of us has experienced in recent years. One of the great pains of the post-Vatican I1 Church is precisely that caused by the numerous and diverse viewpoints which have arisen in the contem-porary Church. This spirit of tolerance, of course, does not mean we condone what we think is wrong. It does mean, though, an increased effort at being open to the views of others, an admission that a more greatly diversified Church is intended by the signs of the times, a realization that we are all more likely to make mistakes in such a situation as we grope for the lead of the Spirit, a lead which at times is much more hidden than we would like because of the confusion of a Church and world experiencing a radical transition. A more diversified Church and a more pluralistic Christian life are what we are all experiencing. We can say, as perhaps all of us have been tempted to say at one time or another during recent years, that it is too difficult to cope consistently with the situation. We have all, no doubt, been tempted to withdraw from the struggle which an increasingly pluralistic Church demands. We have been tempted to carve out our own little niche of Christian existence and there lead an unperturbed life and let all the confusion of a Church striving for authentic renewal and pluralism pass us by. If we surrendered to such a temptation, we would avoid a certain kind of pain and suffering. But we would also be missing the joy and sense of accomplishment which result from contributing our share to the shaping of a contemporary Christian life - one characterized, among other things, by an increased pluralism. DAVID K. 0'ROURKE, 0.P. Three Models for Viewing Religious Life [David K.O'Rourke, O.P:, is the prior of the Berkeley Priory; 1730 Arch Street; Berkeley, California 94709; he is also associate professor of pastoral theology in St. Albert's College and in the Graduate Theological Onion of Berkeley and is associate director of the Western Dominican Province's Pastoral Training Program. I The purpose of this article is to give a structured view of some of the reasons why a man may choose to enter religious life. More specifically, it is an attempt to understand in a schematic and rationalized way, with three different and distinct models, what there is in the religious life that brings a potential member to view it as a viable alternative to the several possibilities in the lay life. Obviously, this means that I see the religious life as a viable alternative, and such is the case. There is always the possibility that an analysis of religious motivations and structures can come from, or be seen as, an attempt to undercut religious life. The fact that analyses of this sort have been known to have the heavy-handedness of an autopsy supports these fears. Such is not my purpose. I presuppose that religious life is livable and worthwhile, and I presuppose this because I have seen it to be so for myself and others. Of course, there are pathological reasons why one may choose to enter a religious community. These have been analyzed with ability and insight. My purpose here is to apply the same analytic approach to the valid and healthy reasons that enter into a sound vocation. This latter comment is significant because it points out the pragmatic and experiential quality of the approach I will follow in this article. There are other approaches, ones which would begin on a more absolute and theocentric note, or ones which could begin in a less concrete and more "spiritual" way. I have no argument with them. I presuppose all they might say. Here I limit myself to the more human and concrete elements which enter into an individual's decision. It will also be noted that I am speaking here of male religious. This does not mean that the ideas presented here are not applicable to women religious. However, the ideas in this article are drawn from experience with male religious and in fact might not be applicable to women. My experience with women religious has been limited primarily to counseling those in the process of leaving their communities. Obviously this would give me a one-sided view, so I will leave the question of applicability to the ladies themselves. To begin with, and again noting that my view is of healthy reasons, I see people entering religious life in order to make sense of their lives. With the approach of adulthood a young man is faced with the need of stating for himself who he is, the better to enter into the tasks and relationships that face him. The answer to the question "Who am I?" is critical for his future life. Now it is fairly certain, I imagine, that very few men, save in the hands of TV script writers, actually pose the question "Who am I?" in so many words. Yet, faced with choosing their education, their type and place of employment, their friends, and the need to 28 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 establish a different, more independent relationship with their families, they are in fact faced with the question "Who am 17" And the answers that each makes to these questions, the decisions he maizes about his education, employment, and human relationships will bring into play and firm up the values that will give the ethical dimension to his self-view. It is my experience that the choice for a life within the context of a religious community can be understood in this light. To make this understanding more concrete 1 propose to speak about three models of religious life which have occurred to me, and which bespeak three rather functionally significant aspects of life. They are functionally significant, as I put it, in that by their individual and interwoven appeal they can be seen to account for a major portion of our religious vocations. These three models are the service model, the life style model and the intellectual model. I will speak of each in turn. The service model entails the desire to help, and the process of being helpful to, others. It means a self-view in which the helping process looms large. Asked the question "Who am I?" the answer would be "I am a person who helps others." Obviously, this desire to help and the actual fact of serving can take many forms. In fact it has taken many forms in the course of the Church's history. The many religious groups dedicated to education, to caring for the sick and old, and in general to meeting the needs of those in need, bear eloquent witness to the institutionalization of the service model. Viewing this model further within the context of self-identity, we can single out the following additional elements. By definition it is other-oriented. There is a relational quality which predominates. The individual's energies turn outward from himself to another person or persons. Furthermore, the medium by which the individual religious relates to others is the work he performs for them. This bespeaks a certain type of personality. 1 might add here that the notion of a "personality type" does not imply some sort of pathology. Rather, it is no more than the recognition that the abilities, interests, likes, and dislikes of any individual will lead him to interact with the world around him in such a way that we can note patterns of similarity between certain individuals. The second of the models is the life style model. This is really quite different from the service model. Again using the question of identity, the individual attracted by this model would identify himself by referring to the way he goes about the details of his life. Its scheduling and disciplines, its structures such as the patterns of collective prayer, communality in housing, dress, and table all point to a definite and institutionalized way of life. And it is a style of life to which the individual adapts himself. Again, this life style model has had a long history in the Church. It typifies all those groups which we call monastic and can be seen as the most notable element in monasticism. The relational quality in the life style model is also quite different from that in the service model. Here the relationship is in large part with the individual himself. This might seem strange since there are so many external acts and tangible elements that go into the daily life of a monastic community and to which the individual is called on to relate and respond. But they are things whereby he can give to himself a shape and forming consonant with the values embodied in this style of life. It might seem that this life style model is not only different from but runs counter to the service model. In many ways this is true. It is difficult to say that a way of life that is oriented to helping others is basically the same as a way of life that is oriented toward helping one's self. I do not claim that they are basically the Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 29 same but quite the contrary. My purpose here is, once again, to state that these models are real, that they are articulated in these ways, and that they function in the lives of those in religious life. The third model of religious life 1 wish to go into is the intellectual model. This differs from the above two in that it denotes an approach that is typified not as much by action as by a state of mind. The individual who is attracted by this approach is an individual who enters situations head first. He is interested in knowing the reason why.Faced with the question of self-identity he answers "I am a person who must make sense of things, and to do so I must know why they are the way they are." Does this really differ from the other two? I find that it definitely does, that it is not just an aspect of either of the first two models. The individual drawn by the service model is not about to question the value of serving others. Its value is self-evident. The individual drawn by the life style model is content with the fact that to him this way of life feels right. The individual characterized by the intellectual model is by nature a questioner. Whatever the emotional or other causes, the result is an approach typified by a series of probing questions. Furthermore, his questioning will often be directed toward the other two models. Is this the person we should help? Is this the way to help? What are our priorities here, and are they correct? Is this monastic life appropriate? Why do you like it? Is it worthwhile, does it make sense? In relating to others he does so with a question on his lips. This question stems from his need to make intellectual sense of his world. He confronts, he challenges, he probes, often in a way offensive to those who do not understand his way of doing things. There is an analytic and evaluative process at work, one which can lead to a further integration into the religious life, but which can also appear to be negative and destructive. It can be argued that the individual drawn into religious life by the intellectual model is basically looking into someone else's way of doing things. What are his own supports and values? To answer perhaps oversimply, his chief support is the process itself of analyzing. As long as he is able to continue trying to make sense of things he will be sufficiently at home with himself to survive with some comfort. In addition, there is the more important question of this person's utility t6 the community around him. Does his probing and examining of his community's emotional, theological, financial, and mythological supports serve any purpose? I think it does. The Church in its history, at least in its more self-reflective periods, has tried to build in mechanisms for self-criticism. Granted, this has been with mixed success at best. But we do hold our own critics in some real esteem, at least in hindsight. In addition, we have institutionalized this critical process in those areas of moral theology which deal with concrete issues. The Church and the religious life, at least on the theoretical level, havealways had a place for the analyser, and the capacity of the institution to tolerate its critics is a sign of its maturity. It might also be helpful to point out, finally, that the questioning by this individual does not come necessarily from an opposition to those things he questions. It is analysis, it is not attack. It might well be hard to put up with, but it is primarily this person's way of relating to the world around him. At this point 1 would again like to point out that each of these models is a partial view, and each one does typify real people. Any one of these models is sufficiently capable of absorbing the energies of an individual to provide for him a rather complete view of his vocation. The fact that the model might bespeak a limited 30 Review for Religious, Volume 3 I, 1972/1 approach, in fact does bespeak a limited approach, is both true and irrelevant. The energies and interests of any one individual are always limited. What I am here maintaining is that this limitation has a recoghizable shape to. it, and that in my experience the diversity in these shapes can be viewed in the light of these three models without notable distortion. The fact of limitation can also have aspects to it which are not quite as neutral as might seem to be the case from the above statements. I would like to single out the types of difficulties that can and do arise with each of these models. The service model, as noted above, will be attractive to the person whose identity receives outward expression in helping others. Obviously, this means that this individual will be oriented toward work, since service reqhires work. In certain situations the outlet for helping others is rather severely cut off. This is the case in many novitiates, and especially during academic studies. Here the student is expected to channel his energies in ways which are different from those to which he is accustomed, and this does not come easy. I would suspect that much of the criticism directed against seminary studies has this at its root. The students are not so much opposed to study as they are frustrated in their desire, indeed their need, to expend their energies in the way that comes most easily to them. A basic pattern of relating is frustrated, and this frustration is going to make itself felt. In addition we can expect that any notable frustration in the attempt to be of service is going to cause stress for this individual. Whether the frustration comes from competing requirements, such as studies, or from official interference, or from the rejection of the services offered, the result will be the same - a sense of disorientation that the individual will be hard pressed to cope with. Of all these possibilities probably the most troubling is the rejection of help offered because it is so final and does not admit of alternatives. When the rejected help is the product of considerable effort and the result of a great in~,estment on the part of the individual, the effect can be devastating. Religious who place great stock in their work and are told at some point th::t what they have been preparing for or what they have already been doing is no longer needed are prime examples of this. Their crisis is not a minor one but one that can shake them to the roots of their personality. There is also the danger that the individual attracted by this model - or any of these three, for that matter - will not be a particularly self-reflective person. In this case he is not apt to see that his way of doing things - the particular model that attracts him, or his way of putting it to work - has some subjective and personal need-fulfilling sources to it. His way becomes absolutized, his way becomes the way, and other ways are to be adapted and refashioned in support of his. Furthermore, explaining to the non-reflective person, presenting him with an intelligible rationale which tells him why his view is too narrow, is a waste of time. By definition, by virtue of the fact that he is non-reflective, he will be unable to grasp tiffs. It is asking him to use a weak or undeveloped faculty. It is much better to present him with the conclusion, that is, that others are not going to adapt to suit him, and help him cope with it as best he can. With the person attracted by the life style model, the limitations are of quite another sort. We can pinpoint them by observing that monastic practices have considerable similarities in Christian and non-Christian traditions. It is possible to be a good monk, as the Buddhist monastic tradition bears witness, without being a Christian. There is thus nothing basically Christian about monasticism; it is one of the ways man has invented for living a human life. Also, monasticism can have an Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 31 absolute character to it; it can engage all the time and energies of the monk in a pattern of meditative, penitential, and ritual practices. In addition there is a certain absolutism in Christianity. The life and teachings of Jesus, our knowledge of the early Church from the Acts and St. Paul, and the subsequent development of both these in the life of the Church and in its theology, point out that the half-hearted and lukewarm Christian life is to be shunned in favor of greater commitment. The danger here is to make the mistake of equating monastic absolutism with Christian absolutism. 1 believe that when this happens it does so because monastic absolutism presents an articulated, structured, and circumscribed channel for the Christian's desire to get in touch with what is absolute. In its most extreme form this would be to equate becoming one with the monastic absolute, that is, becoming absorbed, as it were, by the monastic life st~,le, with being one with God. It seems more exact to say that what has happened here is the substitution of a collective human structure for the individual personality, a process of quite questionable morality. But this is an extreme. Our focus here is the garden variety of problem that' comes from the life style model. The one I see to be common and troubling is the equation of religious life as a whole with the life style model. It is easy to see how this happens. Since it is the life style model that deals most directly with externals, especially with those externals which differentiate religious life from lay life, it is easy to equate these tangible and visible elements with religious life. This is a beginner's problem, and except in one area we seem to outgrow it. The exception has to do with the process of introducing new members. They are frequently placed under the direction of someone who is rather committed to the life style model. In large part I think this is due to the expectations of the incoming members, whose focus on visible and external elements is quite normal. It is also due, I suspect, to the guilt of work-oriented superiors about the lack of this model in their own lives, and for which they compensate in the choice of formation superiors. Be the cause what it may, it stacks the deck against a broader and more complete view of the opportunities present in the religious life. The problems in the intellectual model come, as with the others, from the very heart of the model. The intellectually oriented person is probably more developed in the thinking than in the feeling area. He will have less appreciation for the areas of religious life that utilize the feeling side, such as the symbolic and liturgical. This lack can become a real problem, for it can lead to an intolerance of any areas and elements which do not admit of the clear-cut, sharp-edged, and logical approach that is possible in the mind. Having viewed these three models there remains only one major comment I wish to make about them. It is fairly common to recognize that religious, like other people, will be oriented in one direction rather than another, that they have definite personalities, likes, dislikes, abilities, and weaknesses. And having recog-nized this, it is also common to forget it, to hope and expect that the individual will work out a personal balance including significant elements from each of these models. This is often raised to the level of an ideal, the religious equivalent of the well-rounded individual. This expectation is unrealistic, and it can be disastrous. A person who is drawn into religious life by the service model, and for whom the service model represents an important expression of his personal makeup, is quite apt not to be attracted by the life style model. If he is not, then any attempt to make him respond as though he were attracted by it probably won't work. If this is an importarit element in the 32 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 life of the group he is entering, then he should not enter it. If the religious group requires only some token observance of the life style model, recognized as token, then he can be expected to put up with it in the way any mature person can be expected to put up with things he doesn't like. But if the life style model, in fact, be important in the life of this community, then he shouldn't be there in the first place. There is no way, short of self-delusion, to get around the simple but difficult fact that he is in the wrong place. The hopes that he will change, that he will develop an appreciation for this view, are as futile as they are potentially destructive. The probable result will be complaining, fault-finding, and after considerable turmoil, departure for some situation where he can be of service to others and where he should probably have been in the first place. The same is true of the other models. The individual who comes to religious community because he wants and needs the structured, orderly life that comes from the life style model cannot realistically be expected to work and function well where these do not exist. If the life style model is part of the whole pattern of life there will be no problem. If, as is often the case, it is part of the seminary structure, after which the individual is expected to shift to a service model and provide his own working and personal structures, then there is going to be a dangerous situation, possibly involving a personal collapse. Similarly~ the individual drawn to religious life in order to make sense of his life, where making sense bespeaks an intellectual approach, cannot be expected to make a shift from this approach to another one. The fact that the particular style of life which he is asked to enter, and which he can't intellectually organize, might "feel right" to others will mean nothing to him and will probably antagonize him. The same applies to a work situation. "This is the way we do things here," or "This has always been our system" may be satisfying answers to some people. They will not satisfy this individual. He will be disturbed and disturbing until he is given a reason why. If none is to be forthcoming then it is better that he not work in that context. Some religious groups, such as my own Dominican Order, do combine these different models. But the combination is one of tension. We recognize that the tension is there, and we expect our members to tolerate it. We do not expect to be able to resolve it and thus demand that our members pay the price for maintaining the several elements which we see to be of value. There should be no question, however, but that there is a price to be paid. In summary, then, 1 see these models as expressions of personality patterns which do exist in reality. Whatever be the cultural or psychological causes here, experience seems to point out that we can speak of people who live their lives using the service of others, a structured life style, and an intellectual understanding of far-reaching reasons as means for ordering their lives. Furthermore, these patterns are often firm and definite. And, they are incorporated to differing degrees in the makeup of different religious groups. It seems crucial to me that, for everyone's benefit, religious groups should determine their own basic orientation and recruit their members accordingly. NICHOLAS AYO, C.S.C. Variance in the Religious Vows: What Poverty, Why Chaste, Who Obey? [Nicholas Ayo, C.S.C., is a member of the Department of English at the University of Portland ; Portland, Oregon 97203. ] No observer can fail to notice that the religious life under the three vows is undergoing considerable reinterpretation and change. Part of the explanation lies with the sweeping changes revising social and religious institutions throughout the world. What remains in doubt is how far-reaching these reinterpretations have become, and whether they should be viewed substantially as renewal or more as a distortion. The purpose of this essay is not primarily to evaluate the changes in religious life, although to an extent that kind of judgment is inevitable in the very selecting aud ordering of materials, but rather to describe the alternative vow styles that can be observed and to some degree categorized. After the ground has been as accurately mapped as possible, I shall offer some tentative conclusions concerning the progress and direction of the religious life in these days of not only "monasteries without walls," but also "monasteries for sale." In the history of the religious life, the three vows of poverty (goods of the hands and the earth), chastity (goods of body and the heart), and obedience (goods of the mind and the will) are late developments. From the very beginnings of the following of the Gospels in a radical form, there has always been, of course, some kind of interior dedication, if nothing more than a promise made to God alone in one's heart. For those living in comnmnity, a single vow of obedience, or stability, or poverty, or not to tnarry was often considered sufficiently embracive of all the areas of property, family, and discipline required to maintain the well being of a Christian community. What the three vows accomplished did not amount to additional demands upon a total dedication to following the gospel in a radical way, which even the hermit understood welt enough before God, but rather a more explicit determination of a "way of life" that the Church could specify and direct attention to as evangelical by profession and recognized publicly as such by the People of God through their bishops. Poverty Let us look at the three vows separately. Poverty usually is considered first, although apparently for no intrinsic reason. The advantageous effects of poverty depend upon some minimum ownership and use of goods and property. One may retain enough, of course, for life's needs. Destitution distorts poverty. The benefits of poverty, however, were not discovered by Christians. Property of its nature tends to encumber a person, saps his attention, and devours his freedom. The posses-sions- own-you syndro~ne has been with the world a long time. Auyone who owns an expensive yacht, or whatever, may well feel obligated to make use of it, whether 34 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 any longer inclined to or not. Moreover, it takes time, effort, and supervision to maintain an estate, to cultivate, guard, protect, insure, and in all respects properly manage property. Without this effort, the property is sooner or later lost or ruined. The more the wealth, the more the management; and even if managers are hired, the owner has to manage the managers. Property, therefore, unless carefully chosen and curtailed according to one's real needs, easily becomes a burden and actually impedes freedom instead of enhancing it. The pagans knew this, and modern man suspects all too often his convenience machines run him. They must be maintained according to their schedule, not his. Only the man who travels light moves without care. Historically, the ancient monasteries sooner or later acquired great wealth, and contemporary religious orders have amounted to multi-million-dollar operations. Someone has to manage the concerns as well as the property of these institutions. To help preserve the virtue of poverty in those Christians, whether in vows or not, whose task in life demanded the use of the power and goods of the rich, the concept of "stewardship" was evolved. Accordingly, one's labors as manager of millions of dollars were not directed to one's power and prestige, but rather to the commonweal. The steward was merely a servant.whose job was to invest and order goods and services for others. Many. contemporary religious see their vow of poverty in this light. United Air Lines credit cards and new Chevrolets are merely tools, necessary in a modern and affluent world, to get a job done. The heart of th.e religious vowed to poverty ought to remain free of the contamination of wealth, even while he or she has free access to the benefits that only the at least moderately rich enjoy. Poverty of Spirit, a sense of detachment, thus assumes the essence of the vow of poverty. How one uses property, not the quantity and kind of property, becomes the key question. However, from this position, too, a counterinsight arises. The argument goes like this. Granted stewardship is necessary and can be sanctified, it still falls short of the spiritual advantages of actual material poverty. Not everyone need share the poverty of the poor, of course, but those who wish to might vow to do so in an actual and explicit way. Francis of Assisi led a vanguard of those who sold everything, and in sandals alone followed the gospel. In modern times, the carefree poverty of a Francis is difficult to achieve literally - leather sandals can be very expensive. But some groups of religious monks, like the Little Brothers of Charles de Foucauld, do live a simple, inexpensive life, as do their secular monkish counterpart, the sleeping-bag, thumb-riding "hippies" of the 'back-to-the-earth counterculture. This phenomenon demonstrates once more that the advantages of material poverty are not recognized solely by those who follow Jesus Christ alone, although for the believer, identification with the man .of Nazareth, who had nowhere to lay his head, adds a significant core motive. The insight that validates material poverty as such amounts to this. The steward of wealth, while he may well keep his heart unattached, still enjoys the benefits of wealth. He is well cared for and comfortable, and so much the worse for him. Only those who know real want know life in a depth that becomes readily and spontaneously religious. Those who know not where tomorrow's food is coming from have a capacity to appreciate a piece of bread and a cup of cold water as the well-fed can never imagine. The poor know what creaturehood means - to be finite and finally powerless to hold onto one's life and keep everything within one's control. Actually, the rich man does not hold his life securely in his hands either, for accident and microbe strike without distinction of bank account; but the rich Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 35 man can surround himself with apparent defenses, fences, and doctors, who lend him the illusion that he is not finally in fact vulnerable, as the poor man well knows from his own experience. In the living out of actual poverty, virtues such as gratitude for the help of others, heartfelt thanks to God, and sharing alike with others flourish. Faced with helplessness and forced back on basic needs - food, shelter, and friends - it seems far simpler to discover the truth about one's self, that is, one is only a man, naked at birth and destined to dust; masks, poses, the power that corrupts, illusions of bright lights, and life without tragedy, cannot survive the facts. While the rich can hide from the human condition, the poor man knows that to be human is to be vulnerable, even while remaining appreciative, wondering, deeply aware of others, and alive with the radical truth that God alone suffices: "That is why I tell you, don't worry about life, wondering what you are going to eat. And stop bothering about what clothes you will need. Life is much more important than food, and the body more important than clothes. Think of the ravens. They neither sow nor reap, and they have neither store nor barn, but God feeds them. And how much more valuable do you think you are than birds?" (Lk 12:22-5). One further interpretation of poverty deserves mention, because some religious hold to this style, although many point out its fallacy. The position argues that although the group may be wealthy, the individual lives under a spirit of Christian communism - to each according to his need. Needs vary according to status and job, and so does the use of wealth. Actually this p, osition is a variety of the stewardship position, except that it removes the responsibility for management from the individual conscience and invests it in the hierarchical leadership of the group. The individual can thus use any amount of property in peace of conscience provided the group authority has given its approval. The critics of this position, of course, reply that no individual with the vow of poverty can abdicate his responsibility to remain poor, any more than a citizen can automatically wage war simply because his government approves the conflict. Celibacy At first consideration, celibacy seems a necessary concomitant of group living, and group living in a Christian community seems a continuation of the sharing of goods and life outlined in Acts, a sharing which foreshadows the coming of the kingdom. Why groups of families historically have not been able to maintain community living is not easily determined. Through the centuries there have been numerous attempts to do so, from the Brook Farm experiment of our American origins to the communes of 1970, but none have been long lived. Monasteries with single people and strict discipline managed to stay together, but familial groupings have not. No intrinsic reason seems evident to me why Christian community life could not incorporate families, but in practice celibates have a better record of success. The "efficiency model" for the vow of chastity (or celibacy as it might more fairly and accurately be called) emerges from just this insight. For, either it is argued that community life, that is, shared goods and shared inner life, demands celibacy, or even more persuasively it is maintained that a greater freedom for apostolic work becomes available to the single man or woman. Despite the counterarguments of successful and busy married doctors and politicians, it is claimed that a fulltime apostolate often needs a mobility that the person with a family can hardly enjoy without imposing on his family, especially on his children, 36 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 who unlike his wife, did not know in advance what they were getting into. The celibate can work for less money, move locations quickly, and risk his life and health with less fear of the consequences t'o others to whom he is committed and responsible. The input that a generous and inspirational wife might add to a married man's apostolic work is often parried with the negative effects of an unhappy home life in the case of many married "apostles." In short, the argument states that the layman may enlist in the army of Christ, but the celibates will always make up the marines. Besides the "community life" and the "apostolic efficiency" justifications, an appeal for embracing the celibate life may include the "legal status quo." For example, to be a priest, at least today, includes celibacy as part of the package, and when the motivation for the priesthood is high, it can and does override the desire to marry. Actually many men and women remain in celibate vows because by age or inclination they no longer want marriage or children; no't a small number of middle-aged celibates fail to see what overwhelming competition the married state offers the celibate, if children are not a primary consideration. What this reluctance to marry may mean, however, is that many now in celibate vows would have married and raised a family at an earlier age, had the climate of acceptance for such vocational decisions been as good twenty years ago as it is today. Late marriages, of course, will always seem less attractive. If all practical reasons of whatever kind are set aside, whet today might motivate the vow of celibacy? A keen sense of vocation, of being chosen and being called, seems uppermost in many celibate vocational decisions. There is a sense of the mystery behind the destiny of any person, whether to marriage or to single life for the sake of the kingdom: "You have not chosen me, but I have chosen you," and "Everyman who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or land for my sake will receive it all back many times over, and will inherit eternal life" (Mt 19:29). The celibate vocation remains very much on the defensive today. If formerly marriage was considered a second-rate vocation, it is clear that the atmosphere of sexual fulfillment as a necessary ingredient for maturity and personality growth has left the celibate vocation almost in need of a "single's lib" movement. Those who thrive within the celibate vocation seem to have developed a profotind awareness that no man can run the entire gamut of human experience. One life style cancels out another; there are advantages to restraint as well as to delight. Those who are married have a set of pluses and minuses, which while they differ from the pros and the cons of the celibate, may indeed total out to an equivalent sum. Robert Frost's lines "I have chosen the road less travelled by / And it has made all the difference," or Thomas More's apologia in A Man for All Seasons, namely, I choose to believe this because I choose, may finally be the ultimate explanation for a vocation. There is no adequate reason that can be formulated and presented convincingly to any other open-minded person that he should go and do likewise. One is dealing with the kind of radical freedom exercised in choosing a spouse. I marry Susan because I choose Susan, not for any catalog of virtues that would automatically persuade every other reasonable man to marry Susan. Finally, many celibates do experience a discovery in the expanded opportunities for well-developed and often protracted friendships with someone of the opposite sex. Such friendships often enrich their life and yet confirm their vocation to celibacy. The insight that emerges is this. Any deep bisexual friendship demands cultivation, ingenuity, time, effort, emotional energy, imagination, and thoughtful- Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 37 ness. One may conclude that there can be only one dominant psychological center in one's life for any length of time; and if a deep cultivated life of prayer and practi