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Issue 7.2 of the Review for Religious, 1948. ; A. M~ D. G. Review for Religious MARCH 15, 1948 Devotion . - . o Matthew Germ;ng Mor~,Abouf Maturity . Gerald Kelly Thank~glvlng after Holy Communion ¯ ¯ Clarence McAuliffe Gifts to Relicjious-qll . Adam C. Ellis Thou'cjhts on Obed;ence. ~ edwerd J. g,rney ~ Purity of Intention . C.A. Herbst Invitation to Praise . Richerd L. Rooney ,Books Reviewed Ouesti~ns Answered VOLU~E VII, RI::::VIi W FOR RI::LIGIOUS ¯ VOLUME VII MARCH, 1948 NUMBER 2 CONTENTS DEVOTION--~Matthew Germing, S.J . 57 CONCERNING COMMUNICATIONS . 62 ~MORE ABOUT MATURITY-~Gerald Kelly, S.J. .¯. . .63 THE CHRISTIAN ADULT . THANKSGIVING AFTER HOLY COMMUNION-- " Clarence McAuliffe, S.J . 73 ~. GIFTS',~Tb RELIGIOUS III. PERSONAL VEI~SU8 COMMUNITY PROPERTY--Adam C, Ellis. S.J. 79 THOUGHTS ON OBEDIENCE--Edward J. Carney. O.S.F.S .8.7 'BOOKS AND BOOKLETS . ~. ¯ ¯ ¯ 90 PUI~ITY OF INTENTION--C. A. Herbst, S.J . 91 INVITATIQN TO PRAISE--Richard L. Rooney, S.J .95 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . " . 97 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 7. Second Year Novices Doing Work of Professed . 98 8. Postulancy not Interrupted by A'bsence . : ¯ . ¯ '98 9. Novices Perform Penance in Refectory . 99 10. Indulgences for Sign of Cross with Holy Water . 99 I 1. Informing Bishop before Renewal of Vows . 99 12. Passive Voice in Provincial Chapter . 100 13. Plenary Indulgence on Each Bead of R~.osary . I00 14. Instruments of Penance . 100 15. Absence from Novitiate. during~Sumraer . . . " . I01 16. Retreat betore Final Vows . ~. ¯ 101 ~BOOK REVIEWS-- The Way of Perfection: For Thee Alone; The Christ of Catholicism; From Holy Communion to the Blessed Trinity; The Love of God and the Cross of Jesus; Papal Legate at the Council of Trent: Schoolof the Lord's Service: Maryknoll Spiritual Directory .102 " BOOK NOTICES . '107 FOR YOUR INFORMATION-- Vacations for Sisters; Flour ~or Altar Breads; For Vacation Schools; Summer Sessions . 111 REVIEW FOR RELIGIO~JS, March, 1948. Vol. ,VII, No. 2. Published bi-monthly: January,March, May,July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topel~a. Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St.'Marys, Ka~nsas, with.ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter ~January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis. S.3., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly; S.2. Editorial Secretary: Alfred F. Schneider, S.3. Copyright, 1948, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. , Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U. S. A, Before writ;rig to us, please consult not;co on Inside back cover. - .) -Devotion ¯ . Matthew Germing, S.J. ACAREFUL READER of The ~lmitation of Christ ~vill "ret~em-bet the saying of its author, '.'I would rather feel cgmpunction similart shtaatne mkennotw in ictosn dneecfitinointi "owni.t"h ,Ith me sauyb jbeect p~ethramt iftotremds ttoh e".m tiitklee a of. this paper-: I would rather have devotion than be able to explain its meaning or kno~.its definition. I will qubte.adefinition from Father. T. Lincoln .Bouscaren~s book, Principles of the I~eligious Life (p. 36), which reads as follows: ".Devotion is nothing else th~'n the readiness.of the will to s~et to work at whatever is-for the honor and service of God." This is the theological definition and, allowing for some verbal differences, may be r~garded as .~tandard among modern theologians. It harmonizes well, ~to~o, with the etymology of. the word devotion. F~r de~'otion means being devoted, and devotednesi to God means about the same thing as readiness of ~vill to do what-ever is for-the honor and service of God. D~votion therefore in the service of God is readiness to do what God requires of us and what we know. is pleasing to Him. It is not enthusiasm, nor pious sentiments, nor a. showy manner of prayer or piety in or out of church. Rather, it is promptness and fidelity' and alacrity and generosity and hearty good will in serving God. It is an evey-ready disposition to observe God's commandments and pre-cepts, to embrace and do whatever we know will~be pleasing ~o our Father in heaven, whether He encourages us with the sweetness of His grace or leaves us.in aridity. This is substantial QL essential devotion. It resides~ essentially in the will, not in the affections merely. When it comes to be the pre'~ailing° state of mind of a per_- son, it is called ~:ervor of spiriItt-. s"p r~in "g s" from charity, ai~d in turn nourishes chamy. Ammated by this spirit, the soul bught to remain permanently devoted to God, consekrated to Hi~ honor and inte~ests, ever on the alert to take'up and carry out what her state of life or her superior tec~uires. Devotion springs from the love of God. In the words of St. Francis de Sales, a great authority on this subject: True living devotion stipposes the love o~ God: nay rathei it is nothing else than a true love ofGod, yei not any kind 0f love; for in so far as divine love 57 MATTHEW GERMING beautifies our soul and makes us pldasing toHis divine Majesty, it is called grace; in so far as it gives us strength to do good,, it is called charity: but when it reaches such a degree of perfection that it enables us not only to do good~, but to do it careffilly, frequently, and readily, then it is called devotion . Since" devotibn consists in an excelling degree of charity, it not only makes us ready and active add diligent in observing all commandments of God, but it also prompts us to do readily and heartily as many good works as we can, though they be not commanded but only counseled or inspired,z Under normal circumstances substantial devotion is often accom-panied by some measure of peace and joy and alacri_ty, even sensible pleasure and sweetness. This sensible sweetness has been given the name of accidental devotion; accidental, because it is no necessary par/ of substantial devotion, though it may and often does serve a very useful purpose. When the joy and pleasure affect the will only, they are purely spiritu.al and are styled accidental spiritual devotion, the affections having no part in them. But when the pleasure is sen-sibly felt in the affections of our sensitive nature, then we have what is properly called sensible devotion. The genuineness of sensible devotion must be judged by its fruits, not by feelings. Substantial devotion, as was said above, consists in" an ever-ready disposition °to observe God's commandments and precepts under all circumstances. If your sensible devotion strengthens you in this disposition, if it makes you more devoted to God, to duty, to rule, more humble and obedient, more considerate, and patient, more kind and helpful and forgiving, more ready to make sacrifices, and in all things more unselfish, then the probability is that your sensible devotion is genuine and from God. It would be a big mistake, however, to imagine that therefore you have attained a notable degree of virtue; it is possible that God wishes to encourage the good will you mani-fest in what is in reality a feeble beginning. What is needed on our part in such circumstances is gratitude and a keen sense of our unworthiness and" helplessness.2 It is a commendable thing to pray for devotion, substantial devotion most of.all. The founder of-at least one religious order wrote into the constitutions of his order the following rule: "All must apply themselves earnestly to the attainment of devotion according to tile measure of God's grace imparted to the'm)' And 1St. Francis de Sales. Introduction to the Devout Life, Chap. 1. $St. Ignatius' "Rules for the Discernment of Spirits" may furnish useful reading in connection with sensible devotion. Father Rickaby gives the text with a few notes in The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, Spanish and English, with Commentary, p. 143: 58 Maccho 1948 " DEVOTION the Church ha~. officially condemned the opinion that it is wrong .to desire and strive after sensible devotion. AS a matter of fact, sensible devotion is a gift of God and sometimes a help that we need in order to keep us from. falling into sin by reason of our natural weakness. Hence one may. well pray for it and, ,by the practi~ce of mortification and purity of conscience, dispose oneself to deserve it. Father de Ravignan, the celebrated preache~ of Notre Dame, Paris, wrote: _ We often complain that we have no attraction for prayer and spiritual¯ things. Certainly, if one thing is needful, it is this attraction, this taste, this unction in holy things. For if that is wanting, many other things will be wanting besides:, for what one does unwillingly, against the grain, one does badly, or at any rate, the task is a painful one. and codrage often fails for its accomplishment . If there is o~ie thing necessary, for our existence [ou~ supernatural life is meant], one treasure which we are bound to desire and to use every effort to attain, that thing is devo-tion . Without a doubt we must not serve God solely for our own consolation and for our own personal satisfaction. That wbuld be egoism. We must put the accomplishment of God's will. His glory, and His kingdom in the first place: but also. by reason of our infirmities and our weakness and in'order the.better to esfab-lish His kingdom in our hearts, we, must be filled,, not now and then. but always and forever with the love and sweetness and unction of a holy devotion.a This love and relish of spiritual thi.ngs, this sweetness and unction of a h01y devotion form an element that is beyond .the attainment of our unaided¯efforts. It must come from the Holy Ghost and His gifts, especially the gifts of wisdom, and kriowledge,_a~nd godliness (also called piety). We must implore Him in the ipirit of humilit.y and with a contrite heart, conscious of out.unworthiness and helpess, ness, but at the same time fully- confident tha,t our peti.- tion will be granted. Our Lord Himself has assured us of this in a very formal and emphatic way in a well-known passage of the Gos-pel of St. Luke about the importdnate bat successful beggar (Luke 11:8-13).It is supposed that the things we ask for will be for our spiritual good. Should God. foresee that they will prove harmful, He will refuse our specific request and answer our prayer by giving us something better instead. The Church bids us pray. "Come, Holy Ghost, fill the hearts of Thy faithful and kindle in them the fire of Thy love." Yes. each of us ought to pray in all simplicity and sincerity :, Come, Holy Spirit. ' fill my heart and mind and my will with holy thoughts and desires, with" thoughts of God and how to serve Him with more care and exactness and fidelity, with deep-felt reverence and holy fear. Teach me. O Holy Ghost, how to pray, how best to-please God by my tho.ughts, my words, my actions: enlighten me with Thy grace., showing me how to become truly humble, 8Conferences on the Spiritual Life, pp. 32, 34. 59 MXTTHEW GERMING Reoiew for Religious ufiselfish and charitable i m~a_ke me see and. recognize what is worldly in me and grant me the strength to cast it from me 'and despise it, , " 'Send forth Thy Spirit,' 0 Godma twofold spirit, the love of - God and the holy fear;of God:" In one 6f his spiritual works Father Rickaby writes: "Never since the first preaching of Christianity have the judgments of God been less thought of and less dreaded .than they are at this .day/'4 He assigns'two possible reasons: (a) increased sensitiveness to suffering, which causes men to resenL se.ve~re .punish- .ments; (b) naturalistic views of life, which have robbed multitudes of their faith or at least blunted their sense 6fthe supernatural. ~ Ai a consequence they have come to regard thet~ri~ths:of" religidn with a giddy lightheartedness, the cure for which is fear~.0f God and dread -of His anger. We would prescribe the same r~medy.--fear of God~ind dread of His anger for those Catholics who aie infected with the naturahsm and secularism that have been flooding the earth since the late war. Again, we pray, saying, " 'Se~nd foith Thy Spirit,' O God, andleave us not to our natural desires, to the promptings Of the natural man within us." ~he natural man is seldom entirely and thoroughly supernaturalized even in the cloister and the sanctuary, much less so in the world at large; and gradually he comes to be the source of e~ery kind of worldliness. Now worldliness is a great enemy of devotion. For devotion implies dedication of oneself to God and the cause of God; dedication to God in ti~rn implies determination, it implies taking life seriously, it implies earnestness and perseverance in.serving "the person and the cause that "are the object of our devotion and con-secration. Worldliness, .on the contrary, gets a man interested -, and soon inordinately interested--in the attractions, the gains and lo~sses, the 1~leashres and efijoYmdnts of'~ the" visible World. Of this ~visible scefie the beloved, disciple said: "Do not bestow your 10re on the world and what the world has to bffer. What does the ¯ world offe~? Only gratification of corrupt fiature, gratification of the eye, the empty pomp of livin~ . . The world and its gratifica-tions pass away; the man who does God's will outlives them for-ever." (I 2ohn 2:15-17.) Such"is worldliness and the worldly spirit, "gratification of cor-rupt nature," the antithesis of devotion. Devotion draws men God-ward; worldlines_s draws them down to earth and keeps them there. This is the reason why it is responsible for not a few defections from ~p. dr., p. 230. March, 1948 DEVOTION r~ligion and from the faith. St. Paul,had experience of a typical case. Writing to Timothy, he says: "Demas has deserted me, lpving this w6rld" (2 Tim. 4:9). In his letter to Philemon (vs. 24) the Apostle had referred to Demas as one of his fellow workers: here h~ records his defection from the apostolic vocation, possibly also frbm the faith. How terse, how precise the statement! "Demas has deserted me, loving this world." It is. the story of many another defection from the religious life of persons with whom the drawing power of this world proves stronger than devotion to Christ. For-tunately ihere is also a more encouraging side. If.there is any class of peopleto which devotion is-of particular interest, it is religious. Why-so? Beacuse it was devotion to God or to Christ our Lord--they come to the same ~--that prompted them to become religious. There was a time when all who at,present are ~eligious became gradually convinced that our Savior was inviting them to leave home and father and mother, to part with all they posses~sed, to renounce all merely human love, and to bestow their whole love on Jesus Christ. It was devotion that made them accept His invitation. And again, it was devotion that urged them on to make their religious profession, an act which, next to martyrdom, is the highest expression of devotion possible to man. The thousands upon thousands of/eligious in this country, both men and womeh, are each and all so many living examples of what devotion is actually accomplishing, first, for the eternal salvation and holinessof these chosen souls themselves, and then for the spiritual and tempot?al welfare of millions of people for whom they are spending them-selves. Religious are on a footing of equality with pegple who.°are not religious in regard to ,the observance of the commandments of God and the laws of the Church. They ought to be, and I believe they are, exemplary in their observance. Besides, they are bound to observe their vows and the rules of the order of which they are.mem-be, rs. By fidelity to these several obligations they fulfill, the duty that rests upon al! religious of striving for Christian perfection: " The matter of striving after perfection is some,thing that-cannot be acomplished in a week, or a month, or even a year. It is a life that demands close attention for years; and the religious must realize that it is part of human weakness to grow remiss in spiritual exet-rises that are "of daily occurrence. Frequent repetition may beget negligence; repeated negligences are apt to beget a hasty and purely 61 k CONCERNING CO)MMUNICATIONS me~hanical'way of doing ,thing,~. "Haste is th~ ruin of devotion," is the expression of St. Francis de Sales, who evidently uses devotion here in the sense of reverence and iecollection in prayer. This usage i,,: not so rare. " The Bishop of Geneva said this over 300 years ago, but ~he ~ruth 6f his saying is confirmed for our streamlined fige by no 'less an authority than Bishop Hedley, O.S.B., who adds on his own acount: "This (hast~) if persisted in, is certainly nothing less th~in mockery of God" (A Retreat, p. 270): Again St. Francis,de Sal~s says, "Believe me, only one Our Father, said with feeling and affection, is of infinitely more Worth and value than ever so great a number run o~er in haste" (Introduction to tl~e Deuout Life, Part II, Chap. I). "Show me how you say your Hail Mary," said a great Saint, "'and I will tell you how you love God." In some of the above q~o~ tations there is question of pri~ying with devotion. Devotion can be truly said to hold one to reverence and carefulness in prayer and. also, to perseverance in,one's lifelong striving for perfection. CONCERNING COMMUNICATIONS Some letters on the Subject of vacations for Sisters reached us too late for pub-lication. They will be published later. We encourage communications on this and other ~opics. New subscribers who wish to familiarize themselves with the dis-cussion on vhcatigns will find it helpful to read page 11 1 of the present number, as well as the back numbers of the REVIEW there referred to. 'To facilitate our work and to avoid confusion, we request that orrespondents observe thi~ following suggestions: 1. If you w~int your letter published, address the envelope to: . Cornmunicat;ons Department Revlew for Rel;glous St. Mary's College Sf. Marys, Kansas 2. If at allpossible, type th'e letter, double-spaced. 3. Make the letter as brief as you reasonably can, Without however sacrificing ideas for the sake of brevity. '~. sign your name and address at the end of'the letter. If, however, you do not wish your name and addres~ published, add a postscript to that effect. In the past we hard published some letters that were not signed, and we may do so again in the future. However, we cannot guarantee that unsigned letters will receive the~ same consideration as those that are signed.raTHE EDITORS. 62.' More Abou!: Ma!:urlty 'Gerald Kelly, S.3. A PREVIOUS ARTICLE contained a general description of ~'emotional maturity and a somewhat detailed discussion of one of its characteristics,x The present article will briefly sketch the other characteristics with special emphasis on points that .seem of most value to religio.us. Unselfishness Ascetical writers say much about the need and b~auty of unselfish-ness in theirtreatises about the supernatural 'virtue of charity. Psy-chologists lay anequal "emphasis on the need of unselfishness for, leading an adult life. By unselfishndss the. psychologists mean thoughtfulness of others, the ability to gioe in contradist.inction to .the childish tendency to receioe. They show how men fail in busi-ness, in professional life, in social life,, and ~bove all iri marriage because they think only of themselves andJseek only their own'gain withoUt regard for the feelings and desires of:others. They demand as a minimum for succdssful.adult life what may be called in com-mon parlance a "fifty-fifty" spirit, a.willingness to go halfway and to give. as much as one takes. The mention o'f this "fifty-fifty" spirit reminds me of a very impressi~;~ remark made by a young Catholic layman at a discussion on marriage. Most of the participants in the discussion were unmarried collegians. They had almost concluded that for a suc-cessful marriage the husband and wife should both be willing to go halfway and to share burdens equally, when this young man, who had been blessedly married for several years, startled them with these. words: I have heard and read a lot about this "fifty,fifty" recipe for a happy marriage: but my wife and I ate convinced that this isn't en6ugh. [f each is willing to go only halfway, you simply come to a dead stop. .We have found that each must be willing to go more than h.alfway. Let's call it a "seventy-five-seventy-five" basis: that gives fifty percent extra to run the house on. The ideal constantly proposed to religious certainly goes beyond the psychologist's minimum standard for maturity; yet even this minimum standard is,not infrequently higher than our actual prac- ~See Volume VII, pp. 3-9. 63 GERALD KELLY Reoieto /or Religious tice, Selfishness is a form of childishness that is not easily lald aside. It can-:'d~sgmse ~tself~m.om~ny ,f6rms and actually appear as various ~irt~ues.? for examPle, as the necessary care of health, as the protection Of o n 'e s rlghts, as kindness to a friend, "and so forth. ¯ It can change .colors like the chameleon; it can wedge into the holiest of exercises. : Even__p.sych0~logists who know little of the: ideals of the-rehg~.o.us life could pr0b~bly gi~e us a very searching and illuminating ~xamination on our unselfishness or the lack of it. They'have the distressing f~tculty of avoiding generalities and' getting down tO" pertinent particulars. For instance, if a psychologist were allowed to. invade the privacy of our examination of conscience and to question us, he would very likely include such details as these: - Do you take.the best food at table or do you leave it for others? Do you try to get the newspaper first. (if there is a newspaper) or give others this chance? Do you' monopolize, conversation or show an interest in what others have to say?_ Do you make it a point to note what pleases others, and are you willing to do .that even at the expense of your own'whims? .- Those are .samples'of~the little things that show who is'and who is not selfish. It is interesting to note that our rules or customs usually include ~ such points: and for this~reason we have probably come to think of them only in terms of religious perfection. It is enlightening, ~and perhaps humiliating, to learn that even a material-istic psychologist would examine us on those very points, not to determine whether we~are saintly religious, but merely to discover if we are" really grown up. In Testing the Spirit,~ Father Felix Duffey, C.S.C'., rightly" insists on the need of a wholehearted spirit of self;sacrifice in the religious life." The life begins with self-obla~ion,'and its true ,peace i~ had only.by those who continue.in this spirit. In my first article on the subject of emotional maturity, I referred to religious who show a marked indecision about their vocation b~cause they seem never to have actually made their decision on the one sound principle,, namely, the will of God. Perhaps one reason for this indecision is that such p~ople are not really seeking God but self. . While I was teaching a group of Sisters ,in summer school, we ~Published by- Herder, St. Louis, 1947. See p. 31 for Father Duffey's remarks on self-sacrifice. The-second part of this book (pp, 25-98) contains a number of questions designed to help a vocational counselor to judge the emotional qualifica-tions of a candidate for th~ religious life. 64 March, 19~8 MORE ABOUT MATURITY-discussed ~ome~of th~ characteristics of emotional,maturlty. The class agreed tlfi;it in° actual life some of, the marks of the truly unselfish persofi would be the ~following: a tolerant attitude, cburtesy~ tact, a ready spirit of c~o-operation, consideration for the feelings and moods of others . One'thing th]t all of us ~hould keep 'in .mind is~this: a religious gives up the normal don~olations of family life. Yet it is doubtful if anyone can entirely divest, himself of the fundamental craving for love"and attention. ~ Some people d,o this exteriorly; but usually they suffer mu~h"° i'nteri6rly '6ver' it~ or the repression does some damage to thei~ personality. Part of the supreme art of living the religious life is to show to others thd kindness and sympathy for which they naturally" crave without letting one'i chari~y degenerate into sensuous or particular friendships. ~Each religious cgmmunity, is a family, and the members should be bound .together by an affection i~hat~is familial." The unselfish person realizes this and is warm and ap~r6achable without being soft and sentimental. Commur~it~ Responsibilit~ In speaking of unselfishness, I was thinking primarily in terms of thoughtfulness of others as individuals. This is a beautiful char- ~acter trait, but it is not enough for maturity. .The mature person must also.be "group conscious," that is, alive to his responsibility to promote the common good. This subject offers religious a vast field° for personal examination: for our lives are of necessity cornrnunit~ lives, and t'he success or failure of the whole venture depends on the co-operation,0°f each individual. No one can do it all; anyone can spoil it all--at least~in some sense. ~How can we test ourselves with regard to this sense of personal responsibility in commgn enterprises? The psychologist, I believe, would examine us on all the community aspects of our lives. He would very likely ask aboht such small points as this: Do you turn off radiators and lights when they are not needed? And he would put questions of greater moment such as: Do you help to keep certain privileges like .the radio, movies, victrola, and so forth, by not abusing them?" And he would want to know especially about your pfiblic conduct, for example: Do you speak well of your commun-" ity? Do you act always in such a way that you give no one gro.unds for thinking ill of your community, your institute, the religious life,~ the whole Churcli? 65 GERALD KELLY Reoiew ~or Religious Tha~ would be a general formula for the psychologists' quds-tions: the little things, the things of greater moment, the things of tremendous.import. Into this general scheme he would insert many other questions besides those I mentioned--for instance: Do you observe library rules so that all have a chance to read the booksL Do y6u enter into .special community projects, lik~L helping the mis-sions? When you play games, are you content to work for the team or do you want the spotlight even at tl~e expense of the team? Very likely we could list pages of pertinent questions, but there. is no need of doing that here. Each one who" wishes to examine him-self. on this aspect of maturity can forniulate his own questions. The essential point behind all such questions is to determine if .the reli-gious realizes that he is a part of a community and that all the inter-ests of that community are his interests. He work~ with the com-munity at home; he represents the community to outsiders. His lack of co-operation at home can spoil the harmony of common life and dull the effectiveness' of the community as an apostolic instrument: his disloyalty or bad example before outsiders can literally bring about a spiritual catastrophe. While I am on this subject I may as well refer to another article previously published in the REVIEW. Writing about the "'Qualities of a Good Moral Guide" (V, pp. 287-88), I described a sort of professional loyalty that should characterize all counselors. The example cited was that of,a priest who might have to correct the erroneous conscience of a child. The priest might find that the error arose from wrong advice by the child's rfibther or teacher: but in correcting the error he should try as.much as possible not to under-mine the child's confidence in his mother or teacher.It is a delicate. problem, but it can be solved by one who is conscious of the fact that all the child's counselors must work togethe~r: Many such deli-cate problems occur in our lives. For example, a teacher may make a mistal~e, and the case m~y be referred td the principal. The prin-cipal must do justice to the. students; but if at all possible both principal and teacher should act in such*a way that the proper rela- .tionship between teacher and class is not. harmed. This is not merely to save the personal feelings of the tea_cher~ but principally for the good of ihe class and of the entire school. Superiors can do much to foster the sense of community respon-sibility in their subjects, especially by keeping them well-informed about community affairs and projects. Some superiors seem to think 66 March, 1948 MORE ABOUT MATURITY that they are the "official worriers" for the, community: and they tell their communities little or nothing about business plans and such things. Everything is a solemn secret, even the name of the next retreat director. It is true, of course, that some things must be kept secret;-but exaggerated secretiveness is hardly calculated to foster a personal community interest in the. individual memberWs.hen treated as children, they are quite apt to react as children. Temperate Emotional Reactions Emotions are a part of human life. Granted an appropriate stimulus, there ought to be some spontaneous emotional reaction: for instance, the sight of sorrow should provoke sympathy, the' per-ception of kindness should prompt gratitude, the perception of imminent danger should stimulate fear, and so forth. Such reactions_ are normal. Some men seem to have such dominating control over tl~eir emotions that they either do not react to normal stimuli or they repress the reaction so swiftly that it is perceptible to none save them-selves. This is not necessarily virtue, not necessarily true maturity: on the" contrary, it may be quite inhuman. The "poker face" is neither a psychological nor an ascetical ideal. Our Lord certainly showed emotional reactions fear, pity, joy, .and so forth--although ~ He was capable, if He so wished, of repressing even the slightest reaction. True maturity, therefore, consists in responding properly and temperately to emotional stimuli. To show no emotion is ii~human: to react with u'ndue vehemence is immature. Calm anger may be justified both morally and psychologically: a wild outburst is never the proper reaction. Hearty laughter may be the adult, reaction to a humorous situation or anecdote, but hysterical giggling and ,wild guffaws are signs of immaturity. Both adult and child may feel fear: and both may and should run away from danger when there is no reason for facing it. But ,when duty calls, the true adult will control his fear and face the danger, Psychologically, the specific difference b,et, ween adult and chi, ldish emotional reactions lies in control. The adult reaction is held to moderation: the childish res.ponse is an explosive outburst. The ¯ ,_ problem 'of maturity is to acquire such control of the emotions that undesirable ones are eliminated or calmly repressed as much as pos-sible and desirable ones are used with moderation. For .example, although the kind of love that leads to marriage is good in itself, it is 67 GERALD KELLY Reoieto /. or Religious undesirable for religious; hence situations that would fost.er., it should be quietly avoided. On the other h~nd, a tender love of God, pro-vided" it has real spiritual substance, is desirable and is to" be culti.; rated. And so it is,with many other emotions: sorrow for sin,, sympathy with Our Eord, affection for our friends all such things can help greatly in the religious life; and the mature attitude towards them should be ofie of reasonable use. ~ "¯ As I suggested in the previous article, it would be easyto.cull the. psychological literature for questions to bring Out the negative side; and this is particularly true of emotional control. F0.r example., here are so~e offthe negatives: Do you easily b~come fretful?. Are you impatient to carry out your impulses? Do you expl6"de over a tiny offence? Are you~ a victim of moods~--up today and down tomor~ row? Do you nurse injured feelings for a 10ng time?" Are you i:lis"2 turbed frequent.ly by haunting fears? Do you indulge, in terrific w~eping spells?_ Do, you "sulk in your tent"? Do you .look u~6n yourself as a-martyr; or'th~ victim of misunderstanding and injfis~ rice? Do you easily" gro~r hilarious? ' ' ° The purpose of thes~ ~and similar'questions is clear. If reactions such as those just mentioned are characteristic of a person, he is immature. Or/ the other hand, if he.usiaally manifests poise, if he readily adjusts himself interiorly to emotionally stimulating situa-tions he.is an adult. ¯ We can conclude this section ;by quoting the description-of adult e~notioiaal control given by Father P, aphael McCarthy, S.J., in Sat:eguarding Mental Health: The management of one's emotions demands various kinds of repressions. ~It means that a man responds with the emotion that is justified bythe circumstances: he does not allow himself to become passionate over minor provocations and he ceases to be excited when the cause of his emotion is passed. Self-government implies, aiso, that a man can moderate his affective reactions; be'can make partial responses, so that he can feel fear without being thrown into panic, he 'is not swept into a towering rage by trifling oppositions, nor does he bellow when his hat is blown off by the wind. He can, moreover, check the physical expression of l~is emotion so that he does not strike out like an imbecile whetl he is angered,¯ or dash ¯ away like a terrified child when he is frightened,s "~ Attitude on Sex There is, at least in many instances, a rather close connection between one's generhl emotional control ' and one's attitude on sex. aPublished by Bruce, Milwaukee, 1937. See p. 287 for the text quoted here. ~he book gives a.clea.r pbrtrait of the ordinary emotional difficulties and helpful sug-gestions for controlling emotions. 68 March, 1948 MORE ABOUT MATURIT'/ Thi~, will be clear, I think, if.we consider briefly what shoulci be the mature attitude on sex. The adult" should be well-informed abbut the purpose of sex and the meatiirig of chastity. Not that he needs to kno~v everything about'sex; for 'there are some aspects of sex that are definitely patho-logical ahd~ that need be known only by exper~ts. But an adult sh6uld know the-normal phenomena pertaining to the psychology and physiology of sex, and. the moral and ascetical principles that apply to the sexual sphere. Without such correct knowledge he is apt to experience the adolescent's embarrassment in the presence of others, as well as a curiosity that easily becomes°morbid. Moreover, ~with-out such knowledge, he is unable to make ;i correct estimate of his own reactions to persons and situations, and this may lead to regret-table imprudences, to extreme sensitivity, and to scrupulosity. He comes to fear sin everywhere because he really does not know what-sin is; and he. cannot cope quietly ~with temptation because he does not know clearly, what is expected of him. Ignorance and anxiety, in a matter so fundamental and important as sex are aln~ost certain.to have an unwholesome effect on one's personality and to hinder the full development of the other characteristics of maturity. Protiting bg Criticism "Are you sincerely grateful to those who point out your faults to you?" I was more than a little startled when I read that ques-tion in a maturity test drawn up by a man who. I feel sure, has little br no .appreciation of Catholic asceticism. He was thinking 0nly in terms of sound psychology; yet he included in his test a equality which we are apt to look for only in the saints. Let us consider this in terms of our own experience in the reli-gious life. Spiritual directors often, tell religious that they should be patient when others point out theii faults: in fact, it is.generally said that religious should be willin'g to have their faults pointed out by others. And at times the directors do speak of gratitude; .but my. impression is that, when there is question of religious of only ordi-nary virtue, the directors tell them to be grateful to. God. They scarcely dare to counsel gratitude to the critic; rather, they seem con-tent with hoping that criticism will not be the occasion of angry out~ ~bursts or of long-continued grudges. But the psychologist unhesb tatingly demands gratitude to the critic; the psychologist dares to enter where the spiritual director fears to tread. 69 GERALD KELLY Review for Religioffs Perhaps I have underestimated the v, irtue of religious and have made the picture too black. Yet, if superiors, spiritual directors, and critics could all pool their experiences and thus determine the ave.rage reaction of religious'when corrected, I wonder what the result would be.Would it be that correction is the cause of an angry outburst? or of sullen silence? or of tears over the "evident injustice"? or of a defiant mind-your-own-business attitude? Would.it be that cor-zection is generally answered with a "Why-don't-you-say-something-to- the-other-fellow?"' Or wouM it be that correction is usually ~eceived with quiet resignation? or with depressed spirits but an hofiest attempt to be grateful' to God "for the humiliation"? 0r.with a certain eagerness to know the truth and. with gratitude towards the one who had the courage to point it out? Some moral theologians use an expression that is in remarkable agreement with the question put by the psychologist~ They refer to fraternal correction as a "spiritual almsgiving." The implication, of course, is that the critic is doing one a favor and is' deserving of thanks. And obviously, anyone who realizes that it is-'really good ,~or hi}n to know his faults, should ~0e grateful to the person who helps him in this regard. Hence, it seems that what the psychologists call maturity in this matter, is actually the ability to appreciate true values; one realizes the utility of knowing one's own faults and the - difficulty usually experienced by.those-who have to point them out. Are we therefore childish when we resent criticism? It seems that usu~illy we are; yet there are some special factors that may make ~i difference: For instance, osome offer criticism in an offensive man-net; others offer it through spite and without sincerity. And of -course there are those people who hgve so cultivated the art of fault-finding that they" see faults where there are none. Even in cases like these' the adult should receive criticism With composure; but there seems to be little need for~g.ratitude. While I am on the subject of profiting by criticism, I might men-tion that an adul.t, even when grateful.to his critic, should receive the criticism intelligently. Whether it be a criticism of one's character, of one's writings, or of anything else, it should be weighed carefully before.it is followed. Facin~t Reality] Reality is life, the whole of life; but wtien psychologists speak of facing reality they seem to think particularly in terms of one's 70 MORE ABOUT MATURITY capacity for attempting what is difficult and for adjusting oneself to painful situations. Speaking of men who shrink from realit~ or are broken by reality, they give such examples" as these: patients who love the hospital because it affords them loving attention and dependence and shelters them from the burdens of work and respon-sibility: men who go along ,nicely in a subordinate position but break when they receive a promotion: men who can live a quiet life but break when they must be active: men who thrive on activity but cannot stand the monotony of a quiet life: men who overindulge in recreation; men who avoid the realities of life by taking to alcohol: the wife who runs to her mother at the first sign of trouble "or responsibility in marriage. Little test questions sometimes used to determine whether one has the adult ability to face reality might run somewhat like this: When you are given a job that you are afraid of or dislike, do you try to get out of it either openly or by excuses that you know are not valid? Do you get upset or go to pieces when faced with a new situa-tion that will force you out of a rut? Are you given to day- . dreaming? When you fail, do you justify yourself by.a lame excuse or do you admit the failure and try again? DQ you find that you are. wasting more and more time, finding many useless things to do, before you settle down to the real work of the day? Do you dread responsibility and try to evade it? Do you neglect the present by thinking and talking in terms of your glorious past or by boasting of your glorious future? For us religious, reality is to a great extent the duty of the moment. Disagreeable or not, that duty is God's will--and that is the supreme test of reality. Yet we do have an amazing power of dodging, consciously or unconsciously, the disagreeable tasks.- One religious neglects his studies to engage, as he says, in "works of the apostolate." Another accomplishes the same result with equal ingenuity by deciding that "he has no head for books," but he can fit himself for his future work by playing games, making gadge~ts, and so forth. And grill another shirks the mondtony of prayer and study with the consoling observation that he was "cut out for the active life." Failur~'and disappointment are among the hard realities of life. The adult is expected to face them with composure when they threaten hnd to adjust himself quietly to them when their occur. Yet is it not true that all too many religious have been broken and soured 71 MORE ABOUT MATURITY by shch things? Do we not see, at least occasionally, a rdligious still-. .~comparatively young, yet useless for further work in the cause~of Christ because he has been denied the fulfillment of some ambition? Here ]s'a problem that I believe is not uncommon among us. As we move on fhrough our years of training we note a great de~ire for accomplistiment, yet on the other hand a great fear to undertake the very things we so much desire. We feel a dread of responsibility, which~, if fostered, can ruin our whole lives. I know of one sound defense against th~is: namely, to make up one's mind to try anything that is assigned by superiors and, never to try to avoid it unless there is some really good, reason for asking the superior to reconsider the matter. A religious who begins .to yield to such fears may soon find that his self-c6nfide~ce is utterly destroyed. We can conclude this point by refe~rring for a moment to_the life of Out'Lord. From the first moment of His life He was conscious of t.wo tremendous future events: "the.Cross and the Resurrection; and the actual HYing of His life--as far as the records show-- pre~ents a simil~r pattern: failure and success, pain and~joy, the bittei and the sweet. In His life too were the security of obeying andthe responsibility' of commanding, the doing bf~little things and the 9complishing of great things, the quiet hidden life and the bustling active life. It i~ a complex pattern; yet through.it all runs a won-drously simplifying'theme it was all His Father's will. The~ .same pattern runs through our lives, and the best tonic for fear and dis-appointment is the abiding .consciousness of God's loving provi-dence. One who has this consciousness, who is able to see the hand of God and the plan of God in all the events of his life, is scarcely in danger of becoming emotionally unstable; he is admirably mature. THE CHRISTIAN ADULT Hence the t~ue Christian, product of Christian education, is the supernatural man who thinks; judges and acts constantly and .consistently in accordance with right reason illumined by the supernatural light of the example and teaching of Christ: in other words, to use the current term, the true and finished man of character. ---PIUS XI, Christian Educat{on of Y~uth 72 Thanksgiving Afi: .r Holy Communion Clarence McAuliffe,: S.J. THE decree, Sacra tridentina synodus, issued by'the Congregation ofthe Council on December 20; 1905, and approved by Plus X, promulgated frequent and even daily Communion. Among the c6nditions for daily Communion the decree includes a "careful preparation" (sedula pr'aeparado) for the Sacrament and a "fitting thanksgiving" (congrua gratiarura actio). Nothing more specific can be found in this decree. No definite time for the con-tinuance of thanksgiving is mentioned. No precise manner of " making thanksgiving is recommended. The decree simply, states that thanksgiving should be "fitting" or "suitable" or "appropriate."_ ~ -~With regard to tim(-extension, .however~ we know that a thanks-giving is "fitting" when it continues as'long as Christ remains present within us. I6deed, thanksgiving may be aptly'described as a reverent attention paid to Our Lord during ~heTtime that He abides within a person after the reception of Holy Communion. In other words, thanksgiving shouId continue until the sacred species are corrupted, for with their corruption the Savior ceases to be present. Since this time ~nn0t be determined with mathcmatlcal precision and will vary with different persons according to their health and other conditions, catechisms and theologians have laid it down as a practical norm that thanksgiving should be made for about a quarter of an hour.In practice, therefore, one who devotes about fifteen mihutes to thanks= giving is carrying out the spirit of the papal decree. It is an objective fact that priests and religious in general do make a quarter of an hour of thanksgiving after ,Holy Communion. It is possible, however, ~hat all may not be aware of certain dogmatic reasons why thanksgiving shofild continue for this .length of time. Once informe.d of these reasons they may be prompted to make their thanksgiving with greater devotion. T.hey will also be able to trans-mit these theological principles to others and thus to counteract the widespread neglect of adequate thanksgiving so noticeable among lay Catholics today. The first reason for making a thanksgiving of about fifteen min- 73 CLARENCE McAULIFFE Review for,Religious utes springs from our faith in the Real Presence and may be calle~l a reason of courtesy or propriety. If a bishop visits a convent, he receives not only a warm welcome, but also assiduous attention as long as he chooses to remain. All the Sisters meet him. As many as possible remain in his presence. He is'the focal point of the eyes and ears of all He may not have any favor to bestow, but he receives the same marks of respect anyhow. His dignity as a successor of the twelve"apostles demands courteous consideration and his visit to the convent is itself a benefit. Politeness, attention, Utmost hospitality are marks of appreciation for this benefit. Their omission would be a discourtesy. The application of this example to Holy Communion is obvious. In Holy Communion we receive Christ Himself. He comes to visit us. He is present in His entirety with His divine nature and His human nature, both beady and soul. He is identically the same Christ as He is at this very moment in heaven. He remains within Us until the sacred species are corrupted. He merits the same attention that we would infallibly bestow upon Him were He to knock upon our door with the sacramental veils removed and His own lineaments manifested to us. Hence mere civility should urge the recipient of Holy Communion to make a suitable thanksgiving. To fail in this is thoughtlessly to ignore Christ. ' But other dogmatic reasons should prompt communicants to make the recommended thanksgiving. All the sacraments confer sanctifying grace automatically, but it is quite probable that Holy Communion has in Itself the power to impart more sanctifying grace than any other sacrament. Let us suppose, for instance, that one person is about to receive confirmation: another, Holy Communion. ~Both persons have exactly the same amount of sanctifying grace and both have the same proximate preparation. In this case, it is quite probal~le that the communicant receives more sanctifying grace automatically than the person confirmed. - This is the more remark-able. when we reflect that confirmation can never be received again during an entire lifetime: whereas Holy Communion may be received every.day. The same is frue even of the sacrahaent of orders as com-ps/ red with Holy Communion. Ineffable, indeed, are the powers to consecrate, to offer the Mass, and to forgive sins, powers that are conferred upon the priest by the sacrament of orders. Nevertheless, it is quite likely that even this sacram'ent, despite the exalted dignity it bestows'and despite the fact that it, too, can never be received a 74 Marcl~, 1948 THANi

Transcript of an oral history interview with Linnea "Lin" (Peterson) Westberg conducted by Sarah Yahm at the interviewee's home in Nashua, New Hampshire on February 5, 2015, as part of the Norwich Voices oral history project of the Sullivan Museum and History Center. Lin Westberg was one of the first women to join the Norwich University Corps of Cadets in 1974. Includes discussion of her experiences as a student at Norwich University and her later careers in the Air Force and as a school counselor. ; Linnea "Lin" Westberg (Peterson), NU 1978, Oral History Interview February 5, 2015 Interviewee's home in Nashua, New Hampshire Interviewed by Sarah Yahm Transcribed by C.T. Haywood, NU '12 February 10, 2015 SY: Okay, so let me just start the official interview. I'm here with Linn Westberg. It's—it is February 5th 2015 and I'm at her house in Nashua, New Hampshire. And usually you start an oral history interview from the beginning. So where were you born? LW: I was born in Lowell, Massachusetts. Grew up in Westford, Mass. SY: Excellent LW: Not too far from there. SY: And when you were growing up what did you want to be? LW: Hmm….Originally something in the medical field I think. You know, I didn't really have any great ideas about careers although my mother was pretty, I guess for her time, sort of ahead of the game. She was a lab director of a meteorology lab and she worked for the federal government which back then - so she was sort of the only mom that wasn't in the neighborhood when we were growing up, you know. But I, she managed it kind of like how we all do today. So I think when it was I went to Norwich that I sort of solidified my different goals and career plans. SY: And did you come from a military family? LW: No, that's interesting because I was sort of going through my things when you called a little bit and my dad was not in the military, but both brothers were. So my oldest brother served in the Army, First Lieutenant Jeff Peterson, and unfortunately he was tragically killed while he served at a young age. And he's buried at Arlington. We were just there. My brother—other brother, Greg Peterson, went to Norwich and so he also served. He was in the Army and he did a full career, both active and then as a reserve officer and he retired as lieutenant colonel and he was a helicopter pilot. So… SY: Were they both in Vietnam? LW: Um no, J—my oldest brother, was killed you know while he was on active duty, but not in Vietnam. And then my, the middle brother, 'cause they're quite a bit older than me, the middle brother, he, there's a law where sole surviving sons and daughters do not have to serve if, you know, so he was able to do - he didn't have to go to Vietnam. He was able to fly [clears throat] like he flew in Korea and did things like that, so. And he's a big supporter of Norwich. He went up there on a basketball scholarship and then his son went to Norwich and his wife's sister went to Norwich. So there's sort of this legacy [chuckles] and I think that's pretty common. SY: I think it is too. Do you remember going up and visiting him there? LW: Oh yeah. SY: Yeah what you think? LW: Very much. SY: What was your first impression? LW: So Greg is ten years older than me and I very much, you know, we used to take the old Route 12 up from here before they built all the 89 and everything, and so it was a big trek to go up there. And I distinctly remember going up there that first Parent Weekend with my parents and seeing him at Norwich and you the whole military thing and it really, I mean it really, it was just an amazing thing to see. You know, you'd [he'd] been an athlete in high school went up there on a basketball scholarship, full basketball scholarship, and you know I was kind of enamored with the school but never of thought of it as a place for me at the time. SY: Well, and that's funny 'cause when I interview, I mean I've mostly been interviewing men and I always ask them like, "did you play war as a kid? Did you play military? Did you play army?" And I should ask you that that too. LW: Yeah, I tended to do a lot of kind of boy th— I think I was a tomboy. I remember asking for cap guns and race cars and I never thought really, and I played with all the traditional girl toys too. But yeah I grew up in a neighborhood where there were a lot kids and we went out and we had acorn fights and we played outside for hours at a time. So very, you know sort of busy kind of kinda outdoorsy kinda upbringing. Camping, all those kinds of things. Hiking. SY: So when did you find out that Norwich was taking women? LW: I think it was my senior year. So I had applied to three or four colleges: Wellesley College, which is an all-girls school; Northeastern University that my oldest brother had gone to; and then University of Lowell, which was the local state school. And in, I really wasn't excited about any…I guess it just hadn't hit me and I said to my dad, "I'd like to go up and look at Norwich." And he's like, "No, that's another admissions fee. We're not going up there." And I said, so I kind of begged him and he said, "Alright." So we went up in the [laughs] in the middle of the winter and, 'cause I just remember walking around the campus in the snow. And it hit me right away that's where I was gonna go because I think it was surprisingly, and people are I think who don't know Norwich, it was extremely welcoming environment. So you would think like Wellesley being all-girls or some of these other schools, but I think it's 'cause it's small. So it was about 1500 students and, you know, the professors were friendly. We met the president, and we met the commandant of cadets. It just was, you know, I said, "This is it. This is where I want to go." That's how I ended up there. SY: And did you know you were gonna be in the Corps? LW: No. SY: Okay. LW: No, because women - here were women matriculating prior to me getting there from Vermont College, meaning they were coming over on a bus and taking classes. And then there was a small contingent of women enrolled in the ROTC program who I believe were just kinda coming over for ROTC classes but they weren't in the Corps. So they would wear the uniform one day a week, go to classes, and then back over to Vermont College to live. So sometime between my visit and the spring of my senior year, in that summer, some decisions must have been made. I don't know. Because I got a call over the summer from Colonel John Wadsworth asking me if I wanted to join the Corps of Cadets. I knew, I knew they were women, somehow I knew, because I wouldn't have wanted to do the bus thing from Vermont College. But he asked me if I wanted to join and I said, I mean it was a very quick decis--I said, "Sure, yeah, I'll do that." [chuckle] Honestly, I really had no idea what that meant. I just, I kind of though like everybody was doing it you know. And without like today's social media you weren't connecting with other people so the first I knew was that when I showed up there in August. SY: Did you get this letter? LW: Let me see, "Dear Ms." [chuckles] SY: Yeah, they left it blank, they didn't fill that in, I think it's hilarious. I think that was their prototype. I just found that in the archives yesterday LW: Oh my gosh. SY: in Loring Hart's papers. Pausing to read. SY: But you remember getting a phone call not a letter? LW: I got a phone call, I don't remember this letter actually. SY: Yeah. LW: It could have come, yeah, honestly I don't remember. But I don't know I'd love a copy at some point, that's interesting. SY: Here take it. LW: Oh thank you, SY: It's yours, I have a scan Linn laughs SW: and I just printed it out. I have some other things from the archives too if you want them you can take them. LW: Yeah, that's kind of fun to read, yeah. SY: Yeah. LW: Yeah, I've some newspaper articles too for you. I don't know if you have them, SY: Oh okay. LW: That you can—yeah, sort of the local Vermont papers were kind of interested in what was going on. SY: Oh excellent. LW: Yeah, so I'll share all that SY: Very cool. LW: before you go. SY: So okay, so you show up and you said, "Sure, I'll be in the Corps," right? So then did you have a moment where you were like "what did I get into?" LW: Yeah, definitely. Sort of the first issue was they hadn't told us that everybody showing up was gonna be wearing khaki pants and white shirts. So we showed up in like street clothes. So we already stood out, right, being female. And then to have like really bright clothes, I was like "oh my gosh," you know and then I thought okay this is really interesting. I think my aha moment was definitely in the auditorium or the Plumley Armory when President Hart said, "We'd like to welcome four young women into the freshmen class, Norwich University, you know. 150 years. It was a really nice speech, but we sort of all looked at each other and thought "oh my gosh." SY: Did he make you stand up? LW: I don't remember having to stand up. I just remember feeling really out there, really out there. And my dad was in the back of the room and I was a little worried about him because I was the youngest, my mom had passed away, and I was looking around saying, "oh my God, what's he gonna do?" you know. And he was chatting everybody up and I said, "Okay, he's gonna be fine," and then they marched us up the Hill and you know that's when it really starts. They put you through the whole indoctrination so… SY: And what was— LW: But that didn't seem that unusual because we were just, like they didn't separate us or anything, we were just all part of it. So I didn't feel – and you'd already started, you know, that's where you really begin to connect with the other freshmen. That's really when it starts because you realize you know, okay, the cadre, all these like really mean people and you know when they're not looking you're whispering to each other and you start to connect that way and you know, so. SY: So I somehow thought that women were separated, but you were all tangled, you were all together? LW: Yeah, we were and we weren't. So like that day we were, you know where we went the whole [group went]. But it became pretty apparent that they probably had tried, but hadn't completed like figuring out what we were gonna wear. Because they go, typically freshmen go and they issue your uniforms and so we were getting some uniforms but not all uniforms. SY: Did they cut your hair? LW: We did not have to cut our hair but we had to wear it up. So I came with like hair down to my, you know way down my back, but right away, you know, the Army regulation is above your collar. So we all had long hair and it all had to go up. I think we got white shirts so that improved the whole and whatever we had for pants [chuckles] 'cause the freshmen wore them until they got their uniforms. You wear the khakis. So that was a little bit better but probably one of the biggest challenges was they moved us into Gerard Hall which was the female civilian dorm. And we were put on the top floor upper right corner, upper left corner there, and all the freshmen other women were on the same floor down at the other end of the hall. And that was really weird because we were, you know, going through the whole Rook thing and they weren't. So we'd, you know - but in a way it was we did bond with them as well so it was this dual experience. I mean they were, you know, going out on Friday night and getting dressed up and going out on dates and we couldn't do any of that. So they housed us there for a while and actually our cadre, Nancy whom you've met, and Roberta and Diane Halliday, and there's—I can't think of Mary's last name. So they— SY: Moskos, was it Moskos? LW: That was Roberta Moskos. And Mary - she's in one of the articles - also lived on the floor with us which was also unusual 'cause typically just freshmen males would live to together and maybe a couple of the cadre. And then rest of the upperclassmen would be in the dorm but not on the floor where you're going through that training. So… SY: Yeah it sounds like from when I was talking with Nancy that the relationship between you and the other women who were your cadre was different. LW: Yeah, it was, it was. Yeah I think it was hard for them, yeah this is all in reflection later but I think it was hard for them because they hadn't had full benefit of being freshmen themselves and all that training. But I think they did a really good job trying to do what they were supposed to do. But it was a little more, there was a little more familiarity with them than we would have had certainly with the male cadre. And sometime, maybe November/December, they decided to move us from Gerard Hall over to Patterson Hall and put us in with male freshmen platoon. Got that name right. And so that turned out to be much better because we had, we had freshmen counterparts, males that we were working with every day but we also had sort of these upperclassmen that were supporting us, you know, in addition to like the women cadre. SY: And did you feel sup—'cause I know that the cadre you know that, I mean some of the members of the Corps were like "yay women," and some were not. So how did that play itself out for you? LW: I definitely felt that. For me it was more positive than negative. More support. I think I learned somehow early on that when you're a minority going into that kind of a situation that you somehow, you want to blend to some degree. So, you know, it's much easier to figure things out from within that organization than from trying to fight [chuckles]. Do you know what I mean? So I think I did that, I blended in and I got really active and busy at Norwich. And so then I made a lot of connections and that's how people judge you, based on those personal connections rather than being part of a group. Now people that didn't know us personally, maybe weren't in any classes with us, or that's where you might get a little bit of trouble or they were like from the '50s or something, that whole attitude about women. And there was definitely a few of them floating around. SY: What about professors. Did you feel like the professors welcomed you in their classrooms? LW: Oh yeah, yeah, yeah. My roommate is actually the first woman engineer at Norwich. And so she was in all classes with all males and all those engineering professors. I think she would say they were great, you know, and her classmates were great. My professors were wonderful, very supportive, you know. It's a very stressful year trying to keep up with everything as a freshmen there. You know you have to re—you're just learning so much at once. It's like a double education. You're learning your academic stuff but you're also doing all that military stuff. It's like getting a master's degree in human relations 'cause you're learning all about how people interact, and the way people behave in groups. And it's really - when you're going through you don't recognize it, but later you realize "wow" 'cause you come out. And then when you get to the workforce you're like, "wow that was unbelievable what I learned there." SY: So now that you're a counselor, right? LW: Yeah,. SY: So I'm wondering if you can like take your counselor head and think back on that year. So what was, what sort of psychologically was going on during that Rook year? For you and for everyone? LW: I think, to some degree what went on with us was went on with everybody else. Like we had one girl leave, but there were other freshmen that left, you know, it just wasn't a good fit. Perhaps I think, I—you know oftentimes I look back and go would I do that again? Would I choose to do what I did because it has made everything else so much easier? On the other hand, I look at my kid's college educations and I say, "oh." My husband and I go, "are you kidding me?" They, what do they do with all the free time? They only have like five classes or four. We're thinking they're just you know, so I go "yeah I know, but th—it just," in a lot of ways like a lot more than I've witnessed other people had to do that went to a regular college. So… SY: And what about that sense, 'cause isn't the whole idea of the Rook year to sort of break down individuality and create that sense of a collective. Do you remember that process happening? LW: Very much, yeah. And they absolutely do do that. They take you back to the very the basics, you know… SY: Any anecdotes that you remember, any moments? LW: Oh yeah all that stuff in the halls [chuckles]. Getting dragged out in the middle of the night, having them scream at us. I don't know, you know, going—I think, I don't know, I think I - I remember looking around and looking at the fear on everybody's face because you really, like you think this is real what you're going through. And it's very similar to the military training so it's, it's really in many ways identical I think. But you're dealing with less trained people so and you're dealing with college students meaning age wise as far as being thrown into these leadership positions. So you know, I would say, I remember, I remember walking in the gutter, I remember being pulled out of the meat line a lot which was you know and you had to, they'd scream questions at you from the Norwich Rook Book. But I was a diligent student so I didn't struggle with that, you know reading my book and whatever. There was always somebody else that couldn't answer a question. [laughs] So that was, that was pretty easy. I think the physical stuff was the hardest for me and I found that throughout even when I went into the military because it's really a male model okay? And all they do is sort of cut it back a little bit for women, but it's really designed for men and I think they were trying to figure that out at Norwich. And so in the beginning like when we were running, and when they first put us in the guy platoon to run - and I ran a lot before I went to Norwich 'cause I knew you kind of had to be a little bit in shape - and it was still really hard. So you know the more I got in shape the easier it became, but I could never keep up with the men. So you always felt like a little bit sort of a like a day late and a dollar short. You know what I mean? SY: Did you also feel like you had the responsibility to prove that women could do it? LW: Yes, yeah. But I don't know, you know I think on the other hand I used to think about some of the guys that were having trouble and then thinking like, wow you know 'cause I mean they would they were a little softer on us if we couldn't do it. But they would scream at the guys if they couldn't do it. So that was, so I was very empathetic I think to anybody that struggled because it was just something that was harder for us. It really was. And then you know people were not slouches by any means it's just that it was a different level of fitness than you know I'd been used to certainly. So I think a big, kind of a cool moment for us, we did the Dog River whatever it's called thing, and all of us did really well on that. So we tended to do really well in things requiring stamina and distance and maybe not so well in speed or strength. Certainly I know like my upper body strength, I just didn't have it. Women didn't do push-ups back then, you know, and so, or pull ups or any of that kind of stuff. So I remember that being, that being very challenging and worrying about it like, "Oh my God what if I fall behind? What if I?" You know. That was always weighing on your mind. The other stuff like wearing the uniform, memorizing all of this intellectual pieces were not hard. SY: It was the physical part? LW: It was the physical part. Yeah. SY: Could you talk a little more about that idea of like feeling like you were standing in for a whole group or? LW: You mean like representing women? Yeah I think that's an interesting phenomena and it has made me very sensitive to minorities: religious minorities, racial minorities. Because people tended…I always felt responsible for like whatever I was doing whether it be academically (I know that's ridiculous, but) or how I presented myself is representing not just myself, but like all women. And that's a lot of pressure. So I think, and I think we all kind of felt that way. And I think we also kept an eye on each other like worrying about what they were, other people were doing because particularly we felt super responsible as more women came to Norwich. To make sure, to try to make sure that the path was laid, if you will, and that it was a little bit easier. Because you wanted people to do well, you know, and you didn't want to stand out. You didn't want to, you just wanted to be part of the group, honestly. SY: I'm wondering if you have a memory of like real triumph and a memory of "I want to quit." You know what I'm saying? I would imagine you have both of those. LW: I think that "I want to quit" was they, the whole thing getting recognized thing went on and on [chuckles]. So we did not get recognized till Valentine's Day timeframe. So that started in August and it's like, "Oh my gosh are we ever getting out of the gutter here," you know? It gets to the point where you kind of want to just, you know, be an upperclassmen I guess. And so I think that was like "uh" [sound of frustration] and also when you would see people drop out or struggle or have a hard time that's always very challenging, I think. I loved my classes. I was tired all the time though like you know the professors are trying to keep you awake, because you're up all night doing crazy ridiculous stuff - you know, ironing and doing your brass. I think it's a stamina test in a lot of ways. So I think that's kind of when I was like, "alright." And we did, not my year but subsequent years there were people that would always because it became an option to be a civilian at Norwich. If it wasn't fun people could like [making a noise of pulling the plug] go over to the civilian side, you know. We didn't entirely have that option. I mean I suppose I could have but I was like Norwich is the Corps, you know. Why wouldn't I do that once you're there and you realize that? And then I think probably that same thing I think, you know, graduating from there was a big deal [chuckles]. Graduating with all those guys. That was a pretty, you know, was proud of that. SY: Yeah do you remember how you felt that day? LW: Yeah I was like wow [chuckles], we did this, you know? Three of us made it through from that freshman class. I mean there were only four so that was really good statistics, I think, considering. It was really, every year was groundbreaking if you know what I mean, like women had never held positions of rank, women had never been platoon leaders, women had never commanded a company, women had never, you know, been in ROTC X year. So every year it was the first. So it was wasn't just that first day of Norwich it was all through, so getting through was. But by then, you know, there were women coming behind us so it didn't seem so different. SY: How, was it like to mentor those women coming after you? LW: Well I decided my first year. I, you know, I went back and I didn't and this is another thing that I really learned at Norwich, but coming back I didn't really get involved in sort of the cadre stuff too much. I mean you had to go and apply for these positions and I don't know it was a self-confidence thing but my roommate did, she did and I was like wow I can do that. So I think it was my junior year and I really went for it. I wanted to do like the job that was probably considered the most difficult, and being a platoon sergeant where you're really kind of in charge of a lot of people. And so that, that was, that was a really cool. That was, you know. And that was also the same year, now that was my senior year that - trying to remember. So my senior year I applied to be a company commander and was selected and I've got to tell you you're always sort of like "Am I good enough or they picking me because I'm a woman?" Do you know what I mean? I don't think I felt that way so much but I was always wondering if other people were thinking it [chuckles], "are they doing it because," you know? But I think I earned the respect of my peers so I—once I settled into that and was able to handle it than I felt okay about it, you know? SY: About being? LW: Yeah. SY: In a leadership position? LW: Yeah. SY: And what, I mean I think that something that Norwich does well is it trains people to be leaders to take on leadership roles. So what type of leader did you become, were there models that you were like, "ooh I want be a leader like that" and then other people who you were like, "I don't want to be a leader like that?" LW: Yeah, it's funny you mention that because, um. So when they, so I think I told you my husband's a Norwich grad. So he was actually a junior when I was a freshman and he was one person that I did watch. And it wasn't, it was even before we started dating or any of that, because he was a very sort of honest, you know, just sort of a wonderful supportive person to all of the women. And I thought, but yet he was really respected by everybody. And I think, I think that's the kind of – and he cared about people. So I think that's that perfect blend of a leader, really, somebody who people want to work for because they know that you care about them and you put your, you put them first. And he had actually volunteered to have us in his group. So [chuckles] you know, and so we got to work pretty closely with he and there was… SY: Uh oh hold on. LW: Oh sure, Recording pause and resumes SY: But [coughs] so yeah at the time. So I wonder how your husband felt about women and coming into the Corps? LW: I was asking him I said, "Do you have any memories of this stuff?" I did sort of try to find out like what happened before we came, "Did they train you guys?" He said, "Not much." He felt like it, they weren't really very ready. There was a lot of resistance talked about among the other cadets that he recalls, you know so. I think a lot of the guys that kind of were on our side were the more independent, you know, progressive, kind of thinking kind of people. SY: And what was the resistance about? LW: Women. Just Norwich you know. I think we used to joke "150 years of tradition unmarked by progress." Which really wasn't true because I think they were very progressive in their way. It's just that you sort of you know, I think things happen when things are ready to happen to some degree. I mean women had certainly served in the military, but no woman had gone through a military college prior to what we did. Two years later women were admitted to the service academies and actually we went, we went as a group to West Point and worked with those freshmen. SY: What was that like? LW: They, they were so happy to see us [chuckles]. They were. They had no idea what they gotten into. And I, you know there was a lot of back and forth, I remember because Norwich I think they still send people. There used to be different like, I don't know if history professors set it up, but there were different things you could do, you know, over while you were at Norwich. Or West Point kids, guys would come up to Norwich. And mostly what they experienced is what we experienced and I think we were just there to be supportive. And we talked to the, you know they were actually active Army officers in charge of them. It was very different. It's way more real military. And I came out of there thinking, "Wow you know, Norwich is really a learning lab." I mean they, we didn't have a lot of supervision by Regular Army officers, you know. People were trained, but so you learned as you went, I think, more than having everything spelled out for you. So… SY: Which has its pros and cons, I would imagine? LW: Yeah, well sometimes your—but you know, it's funny, because human behavior is human behavior, you know? But I think they were very watchful to make sure that nothing really negative has, we didn't really have any horrifically negative experiences I would say. At least none that I personally experienced or that would be any different than anyone at a college, you know. But, yeah I would say and it's probably still a problem, I mean how trained is somebody after one year in the Corps of Cadets? You know, so. But I think they're mindful of that and oversee it. I mean, I'm talking about the adults, the staff, the professional staff at the college. And it was helpful to us, they brought in a woman she—she was. she became the Dean of Women. So my first year they brought in a, her job was to kind of I think oversee and look out for us and help with any kind of issue that came up. SY: Oh her name, what was her name? LW: Nunez de Cela. SY: Yeah. LW: Yeah, and actually I have a nice letter from her. SY: Really? LW: Yeah, that I'll show you, SY: I'm wondering if you could read it. Is it long? LW: Where is that letter? [recorder turns off and then turns back on] SY: So let's talk about that letter. LW: Oh, you want me to read the letter? SY: Yeah, yeah I think you should 'cause there's something, it's very respectful and I like the way she talked to you, yeah. LW: Okay, so this is a letter dated February 13, 1975, wow. Dear Private Peterson: At the Recognition Dinner last night I wondered how many of the Rooks, cadre, and staff, realized how different your experiences as Rooks have been from those of the male cadets. Well different they have been no less valid, in many ways yours has been the greatest contribution made to Norwich this year. It is a comfort to follow an established pattern of behavior created by 156 years of tradition. It is a comfort to have leaders who are experienced in guiding new students through the mazes of those behavioral patterns. And finally it is comforting to know exactly where you're headed and what to expect when you arrived there. For you there has no such comfort. From the first you've have had to share the rather awesome responsibilities for the future, not only for your future but also for that of the women who will follow you and of the University as a whole. Your training period demanded maturity from the very first. More than any other Rooks this year you have had the courage and the determination to be first. To make Essayons a reality. As you might well guess the old lady is very proud of you. Best wishes for continued success. Sincerely, Nadine Nunez de Cela, Dean of Women, Assistant Commandant, Norwich University. SY: That's awesome, and she had no military background, did she? LW: I don't think so. SY: Huh, so and what happened to her? LW: [sighs] She was there for a few years. And I was telling you earlier that they decided it would be beneficial to bring in an active Army officer into the ROTC detachment, which was a pretty good move on their part. I will say they were, I think they were forward thinking. I really felt that way. Just, there were always lots of questions everything from well when do you wear this uniform? You know nobody was really familiar with women's uniforms [chuckles]. So I think having somebody there and who had some connections in the Army and who'd been through all of that and in her own way. I mean she was a major at the time, so that was, so I think she's sort of became, I guess you would call it more of the informal. I mean, she was really a regular ROTC instructor but I think her side job was to help us where we needed help and help us pave the path I guess. SY: Yeah [coughs] so did you plan on commissioning? LW: When I was at Norwich, yes. So once I got there I decided that I really liked it, the military lifestyle which I had really had not thought about. There were no role models for women honestly, out there in the world. I mean unless you had a military parent or something, you know. Even though my brothers served it still wasn't something women did in any quantity, and it certainly wasn't in the media. But I really liked the lifestyle once I got through that freshman year and I thought, "Okay, this would be kind of cool," you know, a career. And then, then I met my future husband and he was two years ahead of me and getting a commission in the Marine Corps. So I could not figure out how this was gonna work. So I left the Air Force ROTC program and started to pursue Marine officer commissioning. SY: So what was that like? LW: So it was like, okay I had to go take the officer qualifying test, did all of that which was not easy, because it was definitely a male geared test. [chuckles] It was all like angles and it was a very interesting test. It wasn't anything like the Air Force qualifying test. So that was hard, but I did it. And then so basically I graduated from Norwich and I got married like a week later, and then I left after my honeymoon for Marine Officer Candidate School in Quantico, Virginia. And when I landed there, I realized that this was a first, that no women had gone through Marine OCS with the men. So we were, and prior to that actually I—my husband had connected me with some women and they made it sound like so great, "Oh they teach you how to wear makeup," and "oh you know." It sounded very fluffy. Well it wasn't [laughs]. When I got there it was terrible, oh my gosh it was. I mean they were really out to prove something. So there were fifty women that started with me in this platoon. And imagine I'd already been through Norwich so this was, like the guy was yelling at my ear, but I was like you know that didn't bother me, none of that. The physical stuff was crazy and so each day somebody was getting hurt. So by the third week, like I want to say a third of the women were gone. And so everyday you'd wake up and go it was like okay whose gonna, you know fall off the obstacle course or so. I ended up dislocating my knee which was a minor injury compared to other people. Rehabilitated there and they wanted to cycle me back through and I said, "You know I just don't think I'm cut out. You know I'm not cut out for this." So that was, you know, and then I think I told you a little bit about my story. I later ran into my classmate and decided, you know, I still wanted to serve so went to officer training for the Air Force and I did get commissioned there in June of '80. SY: And it seems like you were like this is crazy I want out. It doesn't seem like you were angsty about it, it doesn't seem like you were like or were you? LW: That I was what? SY: Like you were self-hating about not making through the Marine Corps training? LW: No, I mean, that day I fell off the um, you know, got injured. I was definitely disappointed 'cause I, I thought it was gonna work as far as the two of us being able to be stationed together and you know I still wanted that military career. But I knew that, you know it's interesting because that experience, because there's been lot of conversation later about women serving in combat. And that experience showed me that you have to be a very unusual woman to serve in an infantry combat role. Now, serving in combat can mean a variety of things. You know Air Force pilots are in a plane. It's very different than humping like we were fifty pound packs and rifles and heavy boots and you know you're just smaller physically. The only female that was doing really well was my bunkmate. She was a black belt in karate before she got there. So she was already like super fit. And frankly everybody was like "Get me out. This is like too much." I think they've improved that a lot, you know, I think they learned a lot from that first class. But no I didn't, I was just like, just this isn't… SY: And they weren't rooting for you either? LW: I didn't feel that way. No. SY: Yeah, LW: No. SY: So, okay, so what was the Air Force training like? LW: [laughs] The Air Force is, well physically it's not as demanding. I mean you have to do things like I had to train to run a mile and a half in twelve minutes which is no joke. I had to get up every morning with a bunch of people. You know we would go out and do that and practice. It's a lot of, the Air Force is a huge organization and in a lot of ways I think of it like a business. You're learning all facets of that organization, so it's a lot of classwork actually. You're learning about the mission, you're learning discipline with the marching and the keeping your room clean and all of that. But after Norwich that was a breeze. I mean it was just like go through it, you know. And but there, there were a couple of turning points for me. I had a captain who was my squadron commander and I had applied - so your first six weeks you're sort of in the training mode. Your second six weeks you're in the leadership mode. And you apply for these different positions and I had said, "Oh maybe I'll be the woman liaison officer." So if you can see where women were thinking, okay? And he looked at me and he said, "No," he said, "I want you to apply to be the wing commander," which was the top job and I was like, "Oh you're kidding. I can't do that." He goes, "Yes you can." He said, "I've been watching you for six weeks. That's definitely what you should do." So it took somebody else to tell me that I could do that. And I applied and I got the second position. And so that was that was, that was very conf—that was a huge confidence builder. So, but Norwich had kind of laid the groundwork and then here I was in another situation and it was that person that kind of reached out to me. And so I learned that that's like, I like to do that for people. SY: Yeah, and so have you done that for people? LW: Yes, tried, to, where I see strengths you know you try to point it out. That's how we learn. We learn from other people and how they treat us, right? SY: Yeah it's true, LW: When you think about it yeah, so…. SY: So tell me about your career in the military, so where'd you go next? LW: So then they to another school, so I became. I went to a school Biloxi, Mississippi and I had gone into the Air Force from Guam because that's where my husband was stationed with the Marine Corps, and really wanted to go back there obviously. So this short, small window that opened when I went in was to put officers into flight squadrons to sort of deal with all the administrative details that needed to be dealt with. So that so I went to a school to learn how to be an ex— they called an executive officer and I showed up on the island of Guam for my first assignment at Andersen Air Force Base, walked in with my orders to do that. And they're like "Oh we already have a guy here that's doing it. We're gonna send you over to the maintenance squadron." So I spent a year and a half working in B-52 maintenance squadron which I loved. I loved being on flight line. That was fabulous you know. SY: So did you learn how to fix B-52s? [laughs] LW: No, but all the guys in the squadron that's they did. And women. So I was more, you know as an officer you oversee all of that but you're not turning the actual wrench yourself, you know. So but I just loved it. You're up early, you know, watching the planes take off, watching the guys load them. And making sure that they have everything they need to do their job basically. That's sort of. And while I was there I had an opportunity to work for a general officer, I became a general's, what they call an aide-de-camp. So I worked for him and that was a first, you know, and that was kind of an unusual job I think. So I traveled with him and his entourage, I guess you could call it, and got to do. And I went into the office and became a protocol officer. So we handled all the visiting dignitaries. I got to meet like George Bush, and congressmen would come through. Because this was a big airstrip in the middle of the ocean and they had to refuel so we entertained them all as they came through. But that was fun. SY: And were you living on base with your—? LW: Ah no, yeah we lived, my husband was stationed at the Marine Corps barracks. I was stationed at Andersen and we lived in the middle at the Naval Hospital housing. So we lived with all the Navy doctors and nurses, and dentists and… SY: And I would imagine you had sort of a weird position, like I wonder how you interacted with sort of the Army wives on base. LW: That's…. SY: Weird? LW: Yeah. Ah yes. Well it, not so much on the Air Force base but the mar— so I was part of the Marine Officers' wives club [laughs]. So I would go to work and do my Air Force thing but I loved all these women and so, you know, we had a great time. It was very international group of women, all nationalities that these Marines had met in their assignments all over the world. We just had a great time. Everybody is young, no kids. But we did all traditional wifely things you know. Became very, very, close-knit to that group, as well as all the Air Force people so it was sort of the best of both worlds. And we loved our medical neighbors. It was a fun two years. A lot of good traveling 'cause you're very close to everything in the Far East. So and then from there I went to, I wanted to just, my husband was getting out of the service so I just wanted to find a big city to be stationed in so he could start his career. So we ended up in Denver and he started a civilian career and I worked there in an Air Force training squadron and kind of worked my up to become a squadron commander there which was a great job, because I learned how to be in charge of large groups of people trying to accomplish a mission. That was fun. The location was fun, the people were fun, so I really enjoyed that. Once again had a, you know, some female experiences if you want to call it that. I came in, when I was first assigned there, there was a black first sergeant and he was tough. And I could tell he was like "uch" a woman, and he made some comment like, "Oh I don't think I really want to work for a woman," and I said, "What if I said to you, I don't want to work for black guy?" And he was really taken aback. I don't think, I don't know what he expected from me but we after that we hit it off perfectly [laughs]. It was just I came at him the way he came at me and he knew I wasn't going to fool around and he took care of me and watched my back. You always say that about a good NCO, they watch your back. Even planned my promotion ceremony so, you know, but it was. But I knew how to handle him because of Norwich, you know. I knew, like I don't know what another woman would have done in that situation coming in cold not having worked with all men for four years at Norwich. SY: So what is the skillset? Is it just being direct? Is it just being clear? Is it not being bullied, like what is it? LW: Yeah I think its self-confidence, the way you present yourself that people respect. Yes, and it's also not being bullied. Frankly [clears throat], it's really easy and it's not just for women, but it's really easy to get taken advantage of or get pushed around. It's recognizing when that's happening and asserting yourself and sticking up for yourself and that's nothing that I was born with, I learned all of that. I mean I tell my students now in class, you know I told them 'cause I teach a guidance class, that, you know, the way you present and carry yourself is really how you're gonna be treated. You're gonna be treated the way you demand to be treated, so don't let people do that to you. And that held true in business. Let's face it business is still majority of men and it held true in the military. It holds true everywhere I think, so you know. SY: Yeah, did you see other women [coughs]. Sorry, did you see other women when you were in the service who like didn't have that skillset? Did you see women being bullied or harassed or situations like that? LW: You know it's funny I definitely dealt with some difficult situations, but the few that I dealt with did not involve military women. It was some civilian women. But, you know, I came right to their aid if I thought I saw something going on that was inappropriate, and made sure it was handled and taken care of and made it clear that it wasn't gonna be happening. And I think that makes a big difference, you know. I think most women that are in the military going through the training gives them a pretty good skillset, you know. Unless they have come to the military with issues or something, but the training, meaning mental health problems or other things like that. I think for the most part you know the training is good and it teaches you know teaches you those things like how to, how to lead, how to take care of yourself, how to do what you need to do. SY: Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. I'm just gonna go look at my questions. LW: Sure. SY: While I'm doing that why don't you tell me about the Iranian students? LW: Yes, so the Iranian students came in I want to say around 1980 , so I would have been like a sophomore, junior. And they came in in a pretty large number. I mean, and they came in with you know a lot of money. It's really interesting to drop these - they were young, college age kids - in the middle of Vermont. And they really didn't, it was interesting, I think it was true culture shock for them to have, because what happened was my senior I had a, I was a company commander so I had a lot of the Iranian students in my company. And at first they were like "aah" you know they didn't want anything to do with women being in charge of anything. But they came around because they didn't have a choice. But then you know the whole overthrow then they disappeared. And I'm trying to remember when that happened. And they left all of their belongings. SY: Were you there when that happened? LW: Yeah. SY: It was '80 I think . LW: 1980, yeah and some of them defected. I mean some of them went to Canada, some just disappeared into Vermont and I think some went back. SY: Do you remember, I hear there was like a flea market where they were selling all their stuff, do you remember that day? LW: They didn't, a lot of it was left [chuckles]. I mean they left very expensive stuff in their rooms and just left, you know. I think the ones that were afraid and didn't want to go back they didn't care, they were just out of there. But yeah, I'm sure it was, you know, I'm sure. I didn't buy anything but I'm sure there, I'm sure that probably did happen. But yeah, I remember some kids driving Corvettes and you know they were there on full scholarship with big stipends and obviously were the crème de la crème you know. You didn't get out of the country and go to school in another country then if you weren't somebody, so. SY: And what about the Iranian women cadets? Did you know any of them? LW: I did not, that must have been after me or something because I don't remember any women being there, unless I'm just… SY: I think there were a couple, LW: Were there? SY: But maybe just a couple. LW: Yeah that I don't remember. SY: Yeah, yeah and I think they were also integrating their, the navy there. so yeah. LW: Oh okay. SY: Did you know Bizhan? LW: No. SY: That's interesting. He was, I think he was supposed to be class of '80 LW: Okay. SY: He now runs FacOps at Norwich. LW: Oh! SY: He happened to have, he had a different visa than the other cadets because he was like, "I don't think I want to be in the navy anymore," so he was technically out of the navy. LW: Oh. SY: He was able to stay, LW: When this all happened? SY: Right, when everybody else left, yes. LW: Okay. SY: He watched all his friends leave. And do you remember the news of that when you were on campus? LW: You know Norwich, there was never any news [laughs], It was, you were in a bubble, you know. So I think what we knew was what we witnessed and saw and people told us, and I don't remember reading about it, and we certainly didn't have televisions in our rooms [laughs] or anything or you know. We had WNUB but… SY: Right, but that's— LW: Pretty isolated. SY: Yeah, it's funny when I've been interviewing the Vietnam era folks they say the same thing. And it drove them crazy. LW: Laughs SY: They were like I'm - LW: What's going on? SY: going to go there and I don't know what's happening [coughs]. I guess I'm wondering how your Norwich education affects your life today. LW: Well it has affected my life ever since being, um, time management, huge, how to get a lot done in a short amount of time. I think knowing what's important meaning like I watch people get upset and stressed a lot at work about things that I don't think are that worth worrying about. Because I always go to that place like, 'cause over the years when you serve in them military you meet a lot of people that did serve in very unsavory conditions, or had family who had died, or you just heavy duty stuff and so I kind of look at the world from a different perspective and I think it started at Norwich. It helps me in my work every day because I think my perspective is just, you know, I think. One thing that's been interesting, I think my years in business were easy because of Norwich, because what I know about working with males which is different, it really is, behaviorally, the way they think. …But of course I met my wonderful husband. You know I always say that's why I went to Norwich [laughs]. SY: To get your M-r-s. [in a joking tone]. LW: Well no, I had no intention of really. You know there were women that dropped out and got married and I was like "I would never do that. Never." And, but no just the fact that I met him and we're married all these years later, it's just been a wonderful marriage and so I was lucky 'cause I look at it like when I said to my dad that day, "No," I begged him "let me go look at it." You know I did meet Jim there, so that's huge. SY: That's huge. LW: That affects my life everyday [chuckles]. SY: So, okay, so you were in the military for a while. LW: Yup. SY: And then when did you retire? LW: So I did eight years. So in 1988 I got out and I was stationed at Hanscom Air Force Base, that was my last assignment. And I had crossed trained into, like at the end when I was in Denver I said "I need to find a career that I can do on the outside." And my colonel let me go to Contracting Officer School which is a great program. I mean I went to a lot of different schools to become a contracting officer, and did that at Hanscom. So I did like major weapons systems acquisition which is very transferable to the outside. Got out mostly because I had had my first child. I still loved the work but the Air Force had said they'd wanted me to go to Air Command and Staff College at Maxwell Air Force Base, and it's a ten month school, and I just I couldn't leave my son for ten months and go down there. So I said, "Okay, now's the time I'm getting out." Stayed home with him but then was able to take those skills and I worked at a engineering company for quite a while, eight years I guess doing contract negotiation for them. So, you know and did the whole mother juggle thing [chuckles]. SY: Yup, and when did you retrain to be a counselor? LW: A counselor? So when my second child came along it got a little more challenging for me to balance everything the way I wanted to do it. So I stayed home with my daughter Caroline. I guess I worked for a couple of years and then was home with her. So when she got into late middle school I decided—then I was like okay I'm going to go back to work here. What do I really want to do now? Researched a bunch of things, decided to take a course and just see if I enjoyed it, and just fell in love with the field. I think if Norwich had had psychology I would have majored in that but they didn't have that major. And so went back and that was great because I was still home, but I was going to school, and then when she went to high school I was able to find a position as a school counselor. That's what I'm doing now. SY: And you love it. LW: I do. SY: Excellent! LW: Yeah, yeah. SY: One other question, LW: Yeah. SY: And then I don't know if I have any other real questions, you know again I've been reading these books and memoirs by women in the academies. And they talk about this push and pull between sort of trying to blend in and trying to sort of seem as masculine as possible and also wanting to be seen as feminine and as like a potential partner and how did you juggle that? LW: I never wanted to be masculine. Like I always knew I was, you know I never really, but it, but it's a struggle. You know so there's the physical traits in how you carry yourself, but there's also just the, kind of the way you think and the way you approach the world. There's masculine and feminine, right, ways to and I think I just tried to stay true to myself I think in who I was. You know but I mean, yeah, the uniforms were not attractive [chuckles] you know? And the civilian girls always looked so awesome! We were like "Oh my God where'd they ever find these shoes, these black tie shoes?" We would laugh about it/ You had to have a lot of like self-confidence, you really did, because c'mon, you know? SY: And when you went to the Regimental Balls were you allowed to wear dresses or did you have to wear your uniforms? LW: That's interesting 'cause I think it was my first year that I went we were allowed to wear dresses. And I had to borrow a dress 'cause I didn't, you know, from one of the civilian women. She had beautiful gowns and so we all got one from her I guess. But then I was looking through my yearbook and there's a picture of me and I think they changed the rules and we had to wear, and we weren't happy about that. But yeah you know, you're yeah the same but different, let's face it, right? You know I certainly didn't want to wear that Army uniform to the Junior Week or whatever it was, but we all did, you know? SY: Right, of course. LW: Yeah. And I, the pictures [chuckles] so here you go again. So I was on the like the court they picked a queen and I mean, I can't—I don't know if they still do all that. SY: Oh, right I meant to ask you about that. You were Homecoming Queen? LW: Homecoming Queen, yeah. But the picture's of me in the uniform so I'm like was I really picked or was that [laughs] but yeah so that I believe… SY: Who was Homecoming King? LW: Well that, that was different, the All-American Homecoming Queen thing that was, I'm, George Turner, do you know that name? So he was like I think he was head of public relations or something. His wife was the librarian for a number of years. Big sports enthusiasts. SY: I do know that name. I do know him, yes. LW: He wrote a nomination for that and so there were fifty college women. We all came together. It was a pretty cool experience actually and went to Florida and were in the Orange Bowl Parade and the whole. But that was, it was more, it wasn't like, I didn't have to do anything to get that let's put it that way. [laughs] I didn't win anything or achieve anything. I think it was, you know, hey take the opportunities though when you get them, right sometimes. SY: Right, yeah, exactly. So then there are just some questions like do you think about service? Did Norwich teach you to think about service? Do you think about this idea of the citizen soldier? If these are ideas you relate to, great. If they're not ideas you relate to that's fine [laughs]. LW: No they're ideas that I relate to. That's the first thing they talk to you about, and you don't know what that is. Today kids do. Then I think we did it, you know my parents had me in Girl Scouts, and going to church and all of those things, but you didn't conceptualize that that was being a good citizen. And the whole idea of a citizen soldier, which is really the foundation of Norwich, and absolutely carried that all the way through. That is part of being in the military. It's who you are and so raised our kids that way. We're both that way. I just think it's part of yeah, you know. And it becomes ingrained in you like that's how you believe and want to live your life. It's part of you know, it's part of what's important and in fact I think somewhere in the museum there's a beautiful plaque and it—I took a picture of it when I was up there. But that's what it was, you know, to be able to serve that's what it is. That's what service means being in the service. SY: And did you, I wonder if you feel like your job now is similar in terms of service, do you feel that way? LW: Oh yeah, I look at my job actually as a paid volunteer job. So even when I wasn't working, and that's how I actually had to convince them to take me in my interviews because I hadn't worked for a number of years and breaking back into the work force. But I said, I haven't been sitting at home, this is what I've done which was everything from I mean, involved in a lot of fundraising and different things. And so yes this is, this is something I would do even if they weren't paying me. So yeah, it's that kind of work and I'm fortunate to be able to do it you know. SY: Yeah, absolutely. LW: Yeah. SY: So any last thoughts? LW: No, I'm just, you know, every year when I go up I'm happy to see more women in the Corps of Cadets. And I'm happy to see, you know, that they've had a regimental commander. Like women to me appear very blended in. I always love watching them in the parade and I try to catch up with them when I'm there and just say, "How is, what's going on, what's it like, what's it like for you?" They're always shocked when I tell them [laughs] I'm in the first class of women, you know, and they have a lot of questions. They're curious, really curious about that. And I always look for the girls with the white name tags, 'cause I know they're freshmen, you know at least the Rooks. If I go up for like an Alumni Weekend just to check in they're like "really" 'cause I think it's in the Rook Book or something, I don't know. SY: I wonder if when we do this exhibit if we should have an event which is an opportunity for women in the Corps now to talk to previous women in the Corps. LW: Oh yeah, that would be great. SY: That would be great. I think, I think I'm gonna suggest this to my boss tomorrow, 'cause I think that would be fabulous 'cause I think there's probably a real hunger to talk about it and have a sense of how things have changed and how they're the same and… LW: Oh yeah, yeah, absolutely, there's a lot of people out there that you know I think Norwich is truly I mean my first job out of the military I got through a Norwich connection. It's just the way the college is and I think the more anyway you can connect. And I think even women going into business out of there or into education or into nursing or into engineering there's alum that have gone before them that are willing to, you know, to help them out so yeah that would be kind of fun. SY: Yeah that would be great. LW: Kind of fun, yeah, SY: That would be, that would be exciting I think. Okay cool, I'm gonna press stop but…

Issue 66.3 of the Review for Religious, 2007. ; Spiritual Legacy Challenges The Feminine Apostolic Direction QUARTERLY 66.3 2007 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-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ Pontifical College Josephinum 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©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. ~gournalof Catholic Spiri~uali[y eview for religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Webmaster Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB 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 66.3 2007 contents prisms 228 Prisms legacy spiritual 230 Christian Mindfulness Ernest E. L~lrkin OCarm shares an understanding of Christian m~ndNlness that integrates this spiritual practice with recollection, the practice of the presence of God, and the sacrament of the present moment. This article is published in a slightly different edited form as chapter eight in Larkin's posthumously published book, Come'i~. plative Prayer.for Tod~y: Christian Meditations, Medio Media, 2007. challenges 248 Clericalism ,and the Religious Life Edward L. Krasevac oP discusses how various entidements that are mar,ks of "clericalism" manifest theinselves in seven different styles of living out the ministerial among male religious who are priests, priesthood Questionfs ,o' rR e felc t i o n is/Dcussion 265 Conversati],'ons on Eucharist Patrick Scan~ Moffett CFC suggests some ways of reviewing the role of ~e daily Eucharist in our lives as we face possible days when there is no Eucharistic celebration accessible. Prayer Review for Religious 276 283 the feminine ~ Mary and the Magnificat Damian C. Ilodigwe proposes that Mary's life challenges us to take seriously the responsibilities that accompany the privilege of being a Christian. Margaret, the Woman of Becchi Leo Hereto SDB relates the story of Margaret Bosco, the mother of John Bosco, and her influence on the beginnings of the Salesian mission. 288 apostolic direction Discernment in Common as Cooperative Inquiry David Coghlan SJ introduces cooperative inquiry as a form of action research that is compatible with the kind of faith activity that discernment is and accords with how discernment in common may be conducted. 302 Early Jesuit Strategies John P. Mossi SJ points out that early Jesuit strategies found in the Spiritual Exercises and Jesuit directives regarding discretion and empathic listening can be helpful in fostering reform and unity today. Questions for Reflection/Discussi0n 316 32O departments Scriptur,e Scope: The Great Journey in Luke's Gospel Canonical Counsel: Sharing Information in Confidential Matters 326 Book Renews 227 66.3 2007 prisms 228 P. rayer is a subject that merits consistent attention by writers in every age. In our own time it probably would take quite a long bibliography to list the titles of books written on prayer in any one year. In this issue of our journal, we feature the last article on prayer written by Father Ernest Larldn OCarm shortly before he died (1922- 2006). The article itself has been published as the eighth and final chapter of his book pub-lished posthumously, Contemplative Prayer for Today: Christian Meditation, Medio Media, 2007. Father Larkin's interest in prayer and his shar-ing of insights and personal experience mark his apostolic ministry of teaching, writing, and con-ducting retreats. Larkin served on our advisory board from 2001 to 2005 when because of health reasons he excused himself a year early from finishing his term. As editor I was especially delighted that he had agreed to serve on the advisory board. Surely he brought the gifts of his Carmelite her-itage, his teaching acumen, and his rich pasto-ral experience. But for me Father Ernest Larkin brought much more. He had been my mentor, along with Father Kieran Kavanaugh OCD, and my dissertation director during my doctorate Review for Religious studies at Catholic University of America. Both of these men initiated this Jesuit into the world of spirituality and mysticism, especially viewed from a Carmelite perspec-tive. I am forever grateful. Because of the intensity of dissertation supervision, Ernie Larkin and I spent a good deal of time together. He was always gracious, he was evidendy holy, and he could be gendy demanding--a most wonderful set of qualities to get a doctorate student to finish his dissertation on time. One example. After reading and research for one semester, I met with Ernie Larkin, who announced that he wanted a first chapter written now in two weeks' time. Weakly I protested that I still had more reading to do. He smiled and said I could read and I could also write. Ever thereafter I was kept to a regular schedule, and I finished within the semester. We always remained friends, though seldom interacting until he accepted my invitation to be a board member. Why would Ernie want to be remembered especially for his interest in and contribution to our lives of prayer? He would simply say that our most important relationship is with God. If a relationship is to develop and deepen, it demands time spent together. Conversation is most important as a way of sharing, but sharing takes many forms, often just being together in rest and in activity. We are talking about prayer, sometimes with words, at other times with still presence. Prayer, our relationship with God, was the center of Ernest Larkin's life. As he often said, "pray and God will ¯come." That is what he shared with us, even in his final book. May he be enjoying his eternal presence with God, the God of his life. ¯David L. Fleming SJ [229 66.3 2007 ERNEST E. LARKIN Christian Mindfulness spiritual legacy 230] Several classic disciplines in traditional Christian spirituality cultivate attentiveness and awareness of God and divine things. They are recollection, the practice of the presence of God, and the sac-rament of the present moment, all venerable exer-cises in the Christian life. Recollection, a concept and practice dear to St. Teresa of Avila, means in her words that "the soul collects its faculties together and enters within itself to be with its God.''1 She goes on to say that the soul is "cen-tered there within itself." Recollection allows one to meet God in the depths of one's being. The practice of the presence of God is cultivating alertness to one of the many ways God is pres-ent and relating to that presence by brief acts of recognition and prayer. The sacrament of the present moment sees each activity in life as an opportunity to meet God. Mindfulness is similar Ernest E. Larkin OCarm wrote on aspiratory prayer for us a year ago. He died shortly after writing the present article. Revieva for Religious to these three practices, but with its own emphasis. As a Christian practice it is a newcomer on the block. Its name and its particular approach come from the East, particularly from Buddhism. Christian mindfulness adds to God's presence special attention to the concrete and finite aspects of each action. The present article examines Christian mindfulness for the light it throws both on Christian Meditation itself and on conduct between the times of formal meditation. Mindfulness is precisely what we endeavor to do in the practice of Christian Meditation, in which saying the mantra is the prayer. In the rest of the day, we~ cultivate mindfulness to make it a prominent feature of our ongo-ing consciousness. The older practices highlight awareness of God's pres-ence and will be a diredt line of communication between the person and God. Here lies a possible limitation, which might be called abstractness. It is too easy for the remembrance of God's presence, especially on the run, to be a mere nod of the mind to a theological truth with minimal resonance in one's being. Mindfulness offers the missing piece, namely, a real presence to what one is doing at a given moment. Mindfulness emphasizes the presence of our total selves in the moment. Actually true recollection demands this too, but the full presence is too easily forgotten. Mindfulness will not let us forget this aspect. So the two disciplines, recollection and mindfulness, together and separately, emphasize full commitment of one's whole being to the moment at hand. They demand the aware-ness of one's self, the actidn, and the God who is there. The shorthand for true recollection and Christian mind-fulness is presence to the moment, a phrase we hope to elucidate in this paper. Presence to the moment is concentrated or focused attention; it means being "all there." Often we are only 66.3 2007 Larkin ¯ Christian Mindfulness Presence to the moment is concentrated or focused attention; it means being "all there." half there, present in body but miles away in thought. John of the Cross alludes to a well-known scholastic adage when he writes that "the soul lives where she loves more than in the body she animates.''2 The schoolboy is already out on the playing field as he impatiendy looks at the clock and waits for it to strike the end of the school day. In mindfulness we are present in love to what we are actually doing. We are present contemplatively, that is, with our whole person-- body, soul, and spirit--and not just with our mind or half-hearted will. We do not act absentmindedly or on automatic pilot. True presence is steady, nondiscursive attention, which at the same time is relaxed and self-possessed. St. Th4r~se of Lisieux is a perfect example of mind-fulness. According to Ida Friederike Gtrres, she "accom-plished the apparently impossible feat of being, every moment, in a state of sharply focused, intensely controlled alertness, and at the same time completely spontaneous in all that she did.''3 Monica Furlong says that Th4r~se gave up fantasies and impossible dreams in favor of living in the present and making her little acts of love and acceptance. "Her 'Little Way,'" she writes, "was, in some curious way, the reversal of everything she had been taught, the inflated form~of Christianity with its dreams of sanctity and mar-tyrdom. Now she saw that all you were asked to do was follow the will of God, whatever it might be, and to give yourself unreservedly to that life and to no other.''4 Thgr~se, according to her novice mistress, was "mys-tic, comic, everything . She could make you weep with Revi~ for tCetigious devotion and just as easily split your sides with laughter during recreation.''5 That is full presence to each chang-ing moment of the day. Hans Urs von Balthasar concurs with these words about Th~r~se: At each moment, her sole concern is to carry out the will of God as it was revealed to her second to second. ¯. Th~r~se never tries to dominate the course of events. In a very womanly fashion, she simply tries to receive everything, and to receive it lovingly. For her, every moment comes so fresh and immediately from the hand of God . [Th~r~se writes:] "I just keep concentrating on the present moment. I forget the past and preserve myself from worries about the future."6 There are also plenty of examples of the opposite of mindfulness. Here is one example from Tilden Edwards from the comic strip Calvin and Hobbes.7 Calvin does not like to relate to real experiences, because they are not clear; they are unpredictable and hard to figure out. He prefers to stay on the outside of things, and that is why he likes life filtered through television. That way he doesn't have to think. He can follow the action with "_,lazed eyes and partial attention. Everything is neat ano tidy, but very superficial. Reducing reality in this way is to take the mystery out of life. It is to fail to be fully present to the moment. Mindlessness is lazy thinking or failure to think at all. It allows one to gloss over things. But if we want to live intentionally with commitment to what we are about, we have to gather up ourselves in recollection and be involved in what we are doing. It is a short step to being in touch with the God hidden in the moment. That is what the Christian practice of recollection and mindful-ness attempt to do. Two entries in Thomas Merton's journals illustrate the contrast between mindfulness and mindlessness. They 66.3 2007 Larkin ¯ Christian Mindfulness occur at the end of the time he was working through an experience of falling in love with a young woman, the nurse who cared for him in the hospital. He registers in detail the emotional roller coaster he was on over a period of several months. Toward the end of the struggle he made this entry, which is an experience of mindfulness: June 15, 1966 . . . This morning for the first time, really since going to the hospital, I have real inner free-dom and solitude--I love M. but in a different way, peacefully and without disturbances or inner tension. I feel that once again I am all here. I have finally returned to my place and to my work, and am beginning once again to be what I am.8 Contrast this presence to himself with the fragmentation a month later, indicating that the struggle to deal with his emotions was not over: July 14, 1966 . . . Noted general dispersion and dis-tractedness all yesterday, obviously [because of being busy on errands in town], and all night. Only recovered a real awake mindfulness after about 3 hours of reading etc. this morning. The other state was of an anxious, disoriented consciousness, not properly centered, and making erratic and desperate acts calling on God, try-ing to recover orientation, thinking of M., questioning self, fearing consequences of imprudence etc.9 Note how Merton tried to regain mindfulness from his distracted mind by reading, reflection, and no doubt prayer. The need is to enter into one's, self; just being busy is a challenge, but often an excuse for many-mindedness or mindlessness. Mindfulness is one form of pondering events in the way Mary does in the Gospels. It is not enough to be amazed as the shepherds were at Bethlehem. We have to ponder them as Mary did and enter into them, seeking understanding, tuning in to the divine presence mani-fested there. We need to listen with a third ear and sit with mystery. Each moment is a revelation, a unique gift Revie~ for Religiou~ from God. We enter it with wonder and gratefulness and with a receptive heart. This is contemplative living; it is living in God's presence and cultivating the moment. Buddhist Mindfulness Mindfulness has an Eastern flavor and is practiced there in various styles of yoga and meditation and martial arts. In its Eastern practice it has a different philosophi-cal foundation and a different goal from the Christian form. But the Buddhist practice is transferable to a Christian setting by the simple but immensely important addition of the presence of - God. In Buddhist mindful-ness the only object is to be totally present to what one is doing. It does not make any reference to God, because Buddhism is non-theistic and has no personal God. The Absolute, the God of the Buddhists, is outside their purview of reality; God is unavailable and totally unknowable, beyond the grasp of the human mind. So Buddhist mindfulness settles for seeking total presence to the moment without distraction or divided attention. We believe that we can learn to be present from this practice, but also to include God in the presence. In this way we are baptizing it for Christian usage. We call it Christian usage. We call it Christian mindfulness. Our standing Christian tradition teaches us to go to God through creation, through the finite and the con-crete. All experience of God is mediated. The East can tell us something we always knew. It can help us see our tradition in a new light and realize how important the finite and the.concrete are in the spiritual life. We find The more down-to-earth i,we are the less we fly off in flights of fancy. 66.3 2007 Larkin ¯ Christian Mindfulness 236 God by going through the human. It is only a manner of speaking for us to say that we get beyond creatures to find God. Our goal is ultimately awareness of the Trinity and participation in life with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. We attain this goal best by paying attention to the vehicle that brings us there, that is, our created activity. We are helped by being rooted in the existential moment. We are a sacramental people. The more down-to-earth we are, planting our feet squarely on the ground, the less we fly off in flights of fancy and the closer we are to reality and therefore to God. We are an incarnational people, and we believe we find Christ in every crevice of the human condition. Since the incarnation, and espe-cially since the resurrection, Christ is at the center of the universe and part of every human action. Listen to these words of Karl Rahner, who puts them in the mouth of Christ: "I am the blind alleys of all your paths, for when you no longer know how to go any further, then you have reached me, foolish child, though you are not aware to it."~° We find Christ by going through, not around, creation. This is to follow what is called the "analogical imagination" by writers like David Tracy, or the "Catholic imagination" by William E Lynch SJ or Andrew Greeley. Mindfulness helps us reclaim our birthright. The Buddhist teaching on mindfulness can help us see these truths more clearly. A signature example of the Buddhist mode is wash-ing the dishes when you are washing the dishes. It is the quaint trademark ofthe Vietnamese Buddhist, Thich Nhat Hanh, in his book The Miracle of Mindfulness. He writes: While washing the dishes, you might be thinking about the tea afterwards, and so try to get them out of the way as quickly as possible in order to sit and drink tea. But that means you are incapable of living dur- Review for Religious ing the time you are washing the dishes. When you are washing the dishes, washing the dishes must the most important thing in your life. Just as when you are drifiking tea, drinking tea must be the most important thing in your life.ll The inner meaning of the Buddha's teaching on mind-fulness is found in the Sattipatthanda Sutta, and it is summarized in the following words of a Buddhist com-mentator: Mindfulness deepens mental concentration (samatha) in the direction of meditation insight (vipassana). In mind-fulness the disciple dwells in contemplation of the body, feelings, and thoughts. Through being concentrated and mindful of these factors of our life, and by clearly comprehending through insight their true nature, the hate and greed, of sorrow and grief, is overcome and Nibbana [nirvana] is attained,lz Samatha and vipassana describe two different kinds of Buddhist meditation, the former seeking tranquillity and the latter insight.13 Both goals are the fruit of total pres-ence. Listen to Nhat Hanh's description of washing the dishes: "While washing the dishes one should only be washing the dishes, which means that while washing the dishes one should be completely aware of the fact that one is washing the dishes.''~4 The total presence is the heart of meditation in the East. A similar presence, but with the addition of a Trinitarian component, is the goal of Christian Meditation as taught by John Main. When I engage in the practice of Christian Meditation, I do not imagine God or anything else. I simply try to be totally present to my deepest self and to the God who dwells there. To the extent that I am successful, I am giving my full focused attention to my interior being and to the Trinity. I am not thinking about God or about any thing. I am practicing contemplation, that is, I am in communion with the real and the Real. 66.3 2007 Larkin ¯ Christian Mindfulness 238] It is important to know that John Main does not equate contemplation with special psychological experience of God. Contemplation for him is an existential act; it is participation or communion with God. In true mindful-ness I am acting at the level of my being's spirit, and I am truly free and loving. I touch both the reality of God and my own deepest reality. Free and loving presence to the present moment is the essence of mindfulness and meditation. You wash the dishes to wash the dishes, intentionally and with as little distraction as possible, not to impress your neighbor or even to provide clean dishes. These motives are extrane-ous and pertain to the future. You want to stay in the now. To accomplish that you need to be present to yourself. Here is a wise story from Mobi Ho, the translator of The Miracle of Mindfulness. She recalls in the preface an inci-dent when she was cooking furiously and had to stop and search for a missing spoon. She was obviously agitated. Thay came into the room and smiled and said, "What is Mobi looking for?" "The spoon," she answered, perhaps a bit petulandy. Thay answered with another smile: "No, Mobi is looking for Mobi.''15 Why Mindfulness Is Important Our distractions come from our divided and disordered selves. Our desires are the product of our many-minded-ness, and this in turn comes from our lack of integration. Our desires need to be integrated with our whole person and with what we are about at the moment. Our thought needs to be one-pointed and simple, an accomplishment that takes practice,, discipline, and grace. Practice in meditation and in mindfulness will develop the virtues needed and give me a handle on my desires. Perfect mindfulness will neutralize the warring factions within me and let me be absorbed by what I am doing. Review for Religious In this latter case I will have achieved what the psycholo-gists call the deautomatization of my desires. This means that I have neutralized the impulses and desires I do not want. Instead I can concentrate on my true wishes. The unwanted desires dry up and atrophy for lack of nurture.16 From a moral or spiritual point of view I have let my faith inform and animate all my behavior. I have attained true freedom and perfect love. I have achieved what John Cassian called purity of heart. Nhat Hahn celebrates the personal freedom in mind-ful activity in these words: The fact that I am standing there and washing these bowls is wondrous reality. I am being completely myself, following my breath, my presence, and con-scious of my thoughts and actions. There is no way I can be tossed around mindlessly like a bottle slapped here and there on the waves?7 The Christian adds the further element of the good inten-tion and remembering God's presence. I am present to God and receiving the impact of his presence, which is a fact before and after I am aware of it. I do not consti-tute that presence. I am alive with the presence of God. This aspect is not something extraneous and accidental. It belongs to the nature of things, to the immanence of God in all of creation. God's delight is to be with the children of this world, in our sorrow and in our own delights. This presence is for our sakes and our salvation. Christians emphasize the presence of God in all things, but they may tend to forget the envelope that contains it. Persons, actions, events are the medium through which God comes. The given moment is the only place one can meet God. In God there is no time, only the eternal now. God lives in that now moment on the other side of the veil that separates time from eternity. We enter the ves-tibule of that "now" when we concentrate on the present 66.3 2007 Larkin ¯ Christian Mindfulness 240 moment. Our beloved God is there, and it behooves us to be there as well. To enter the now moment is to let anxiety fall off our shoulders and to be renewed in hope by touching the God who loves us. The more that a person possesses herself, the more present she can be. She must be "all there," alert, aware, attentive, in a word, fully present. Intellectualizing or head knowledge is of little value. An abstract recall or thinking about God's presence in the here and now is not enough. The knowledge must be holistic and experiential, beyond mere thinking, beyond mind alone. What we need is heart knowledge. I am more than my thoughts or my mind, and therefore I must not identify with my mind or my ego. In mindfulness we stand before the Lord, "watching and waiting." We do not control the relationship, and we are there to receive a gift. Every moment is a gift from God, and we are aware of that fact. Every moment can be an occasion of contemplation, that is, an opportunity to realize God's love. The contemplative walks in the pres-enceof God in a moment-to-moment experience of God's love. The condition for the gift is to be present there, body, soul, and spirit. Mindfulness fights the enemies of wholeness and culti-vates full presence to God. The enemies of wholeness are what divide us, such as our addictions and compulsions, our unfreedoms and attachments, our sins and imperfec-tions. They undermine our love of God. Mindfulness faces these temptations head on by maintaining attention to the call of faith. We are thoroughly present to the moment because it is God's call for us at that time. Mindfulness recognizes distractions, calls them by name, then lets them pass, all the while gently focusing on the moment. As focused or nondiscursive attention, mindfulness helps us rise above what John Main calls the "monkey chat-ter" of the distracted mind. Mindless persons are unrooted Revie~ for Religio~s and tmcentered, so they tend to flit about from one distrac-tion to another, dissipated in their energies, prisoners of unrecognized consumerism and self-glorification. Mindless persons live outside themselves and engage only the part of themselves that is needed to satisfy the passing whim. They tend to be dilettantes and escapists. They have no depth or solid ground within themselves on which to rest commitments. They are more vulnerable to the winds of change around them and readily given to worry and anxiety simply because they do not realize that "God is near" (Ph 4:5). Excessive "busyness" is lack of mindfulness. Busyness is a cultural demon of our time, an escape or excuse from the hard work of concentration and the duty one is trying to avoid. Busyness is a wolf in sheep's clothing, because it looks like virtue but actu-ally is a whole array of self-interest clustered around pride or self-indulgence. It is an ego trip and the enemy of charity. Look more closely at its manifestations and you will find a driven and com-pulsive spirit that hurts one's health, peace of mind, and awareness of others. Over-busy persons are trying to prove themselves by the sheer quantity of their output. The more they do, the more they feed their self-satisfac-tion, basking in the imagined plaudits of the multitude. There is little charity in this addiction, appearances to the contrary notwithstanding. The motivation in busyness is ego-enhancement, the desire to impress, even to show up the neighbor, Busyness is ersatz zeal. The reason why mindfulness is good and its opposite bad is that one is the expression of the true self and the Our unfreedoms and attachments Undermine our loveof God. 66.3 2007 Larkin * Christian Mindfulness 242 other the offspring of the false self. The true self comes from the deeper strata of our being, from our spirit, and it carries body and psyche with it. Thus it incarnates more of ourselves in its choices than does the splintered false self. The true self acts from the heart and not from self-deception or flee-floating emotions. It acts virtuously because it is rooted in God. Sensibility, our superficial self, is the home of our false self, because ego is at home there and ego goes its own way. The false self is self-serving by nature. It comes out of primitive experiences of life that set in place ways of coping with threats to one's security or self-importance. Our sensi-bility has to be redeemed and put at the service of charity by being ordered and integrated into our lives. Then the ego serves rather than seeks to be served. In these cases the true self has taken over. Wholeness has been restored and the Holy Spirit has become the fountain of living water spring-ing up to eternal life (In 4:14 and Jn 7:3 6-3 7). Mindfulness is a sign that the good spirit is in possession. How Do I Get It? One important final question is the practice: how do I become more mindful? The answer is: cultivate a vibrant spiritual life. Mindfulness is a by-product of mature holi-ness. But are there special means for growing in the prac-tice and skill? How can I become more mindful? I want to suggest two special means. One is meditation itself; the other is the basic condition of all prayer, purity of heart. These are the two arms for embracing God, the pincer movements of the spiritual life. They will bring us to mindfulness. First, mindfulness is the outcome of faithfulness to the two periods of Christian Meditation each day, since medi-tation itself is explicit and prolonged mindfulness. Practice makes perfect; obviously meditation will foster the habit Re~ie~ for Religious of mindfulness. Conventional wisdom says: find God in daily prayer and you will find God everywhere. The Sufi came out of his prayer room and said: I went to the mar-ketplace and found God everywhere. The contrary is also true: without prayer life you will not find God. General mindfulness throughout the day is a diffuse presence to God. How could this be maintained, if it is not nourished by a focused or concentrated presence? How be mindful of God in the comings and goings of the day if one never takes time to meet God face-to-face? We need to focus on the Lord, to come aside and find rest for our souls. Otherwise we will not recognize God when he appears in the disguise of other people or works of charity. The two periods of Christian Meditation come from a long tradition. One of the outstanding teachers of recol-lection, the contemporary and early teacher of Teresa of Avila, Francisco de Osuna, recommended two periods of formal meditation a day, each of them an hour's length. Osuna writes: "You are to retire into your heart and leave all created things for the length of two hours, one hour before and the other after noon, at the most quiet time possible."18 During the rest of the day the mind is to be occupied with lectio divina, the author agreeing with St. Bonaventure that "no one can call himself devoted to the sacred passion unless he spends most of [the day] contem-plating it in one manner or another."19 The two hours a day suggested by Osuna may be beyond the possibilities for many people, and periods of twenty to thirty minutes have proved workable for most people today. The second way to cultivate mindfulness is. purity of heart. It is as important as formal prayer, because the measure of one's purity of heart is the measure of one's prayer. Again this is the constant teaching of the Christian tradition.from John Cassian to Teilhard de Chardin. What is purity of heart? It is detachment, and specifically affec- 66.3 2007 Larkin ¯ Christian Mindfulness Affective detachment comes from effective detachment, tive detachment. This is the freedom of the will before choices. This freedom is cultivated especially by effective detachment, which is the actual renunciation of what-ever stands in the way to one's service of God. Affective detachment comes from effective detachment. In the Western traditon, renundation is the way to recol-lection. Writers like Frandsco de Osuna, Teresa of Avila, and John of the Cross underline the gospel teaching that we must leave all things to follow the Lord. A recent exponent of this age-old tradition is Pope Benedict XVI, who put the teach-ing in fresh language to his interviewer, Peter Seewald, shortly before the death of John Paul 11: "When it comes down to it," Cardinal Ratzinger said, "everyone has to undergo his own Exodus. He not only has to leave the place that nurtured him and become independent, but has to come out of his own reserved self. He must leave himself behind, transcend his own limits; only then will he reach the Promised Land, so to speak,m° Christian teachers generally emphasize the physi-cal renunciation of legitimate goods and pleasures, such as marriage or possessions or worldly honors; they call for the renunciation of all desires. These are refrains in their writing, and modern readers are easily put off by such total demands. But contemporary readers need to be reminded that these classic directives are always in the context of God's will. God's particular will for each person is the controlling factor for renouncing goods. The wholesale rejecton of desires applies to disordered desires. Discernment identfies the immediate will of God, and this is the criterion for choices. 244 Review for Religious The language in this tradition can betray us. Osuna, for example, presents recollection as the way to divine union, and it involves transcending, that is, going beyond all creatures. The person must be "blind, deaf, and dumb to everything that is not God." We need to "guard the heart with all vigilance, unburdening and clearing it of all created things, so that the one who created it may emerge with the life of grace.''2~ The cost of divine union is "not less than everything." The sweeping language might make one think that the whole of creation must be rejected. Not so, these authors tell us. The everything to be by-passed is the all that is in competition or opposed to God. The teaching on recollection attributes the same high efficacy as mindfulness, but also makes the same demands for its functioning. Karl Rahner in an essay on the Holy Eucharist says that recollection demands letting go of all false and harmful things.2z The teaching is founded on the pas-chal mystery, the death and resurrection of the Lord, which is "the innermost law of our lives." Baptism initiates us into this mystery and the Holy Eucharist renews the commit-ment. Eucharistic life, he writes, embraces the total profane life of the Christian, the "everyday" of the followers of Jesus. We die and rise with Jesus Christ, not only at Mass and in Holy Communion, but in our everyday behavior. How can we manage so sublime a calling? Rahner's answer is recol-lection, which he defines as "withdrawing into ourselves" and from there making the right choices at each moment. Withdrawing into ourselves is not copping out or fleeing the scene. It is being our true selves and living intentionally. Get beyond the distractions, turn off the constant radio, stop the "empty talk and gossip," avoid wasting time with worthless reading, and pull back from the "over-busy and all devour-ing fulfillment of one's duty, [from the busyness which is] an excuse for avoiding our real duty."~3 Enter into yourselves, so that you are your true selves. 66.3 2007 Larkin * Christian l~lindfulness 246 Recollection is no flight from life, but "ricing uP to ourselves as we really are, confronting ourselves instead of seeking solace in chatter, conversations, mere external dissipations." Holy Communion commits me to "accept my everyday just as it is. I do not need to have any lofty feelings in my heart to recount . I can lay my everyday before [God] just as it is. in all its pettiness and trivial-ity." z4 Christian recollection is another word for Christan mindfulness, and these two are at the heart of our search for God that comprises the two daily periods of contem-plative prayer that are Christian Meditation. Notes I The Way of Perfection 28.4. 2 Spiritual Canticle B, 5.3. 3 Cited from Ida Friederike G6rres's Hidden Face in John Donohue SJ'S article "Th~r~se of Lisieux, Doctor of the Church," America 177 (13 December 1997): 16. 4 Monica Furlong, Thdr~se of Lisieux (New York: Pantheon Books, 1987), p. 96. s Cited in Donohue, "Th~r~se," p. 16. 6 Hans Urs von Balthasar, Two Sisters in the Spirit: Th~r~se of Lisieux and Elizabeth of the Trinity, trans. Donald Nichols and Ann Elizabeth Englund (San Francisco: Ignatius press, 1992) pp. 66-67. 7 "Valuing the Living Moment," Shalem News, cited in Kinospirit (November 1995): 2. s Learning to Love: The~ournals of Thomas Merton 6, ed. Christine M. Bochen (HarperSanFrancisco, 1997), p. 84. 9 Merton, Learning, p. 95. 10 The Great Church Year: The Best of Karl Rahner's Homilies, Sermons, and Meditations, ed. Albert Raffelt (New York: Crossroad, 1993), p. 51. 11 Thich Nhat Hahn, Miracle of Mindfulness (Boston: Beacon Press, 1987), p. 24. 12 Ven. Dr. Dhammarakkhita, "Mindfulness and Loving-Kindness Meditation," The Gethsemani Encount~ ed. Donald W. Mitchell and James A. Wiseman OSB (New York: Continuum, 1998), pp. 35-41, at 35. 13 William Rehg SJ, "Christian Mindfulness," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 34, no. 3 (May 2002): 1-9. Review for Religious 14 Rehg, "Christian." is Rehg, "Christian." t6 Philip Novak, "The Practice of Attention," Parabola 15 (May 1990): 10-12; Arthur J. Deikman, "Deautomatization and the Mystic Experience," Psychiatry 29 (1966): 324-338. ~7 Thich Nhat Hahn, Miracle, p. 4. ~s Francisco de Osuna, The Third Spiritual Alphabet, trans. Mary E. Giles (New York: Paulist Press, 1981), p. 388. ~90suna, Third, p. 177. 20 Paul Elie, "The Year 0fTwo Popes," Atlantic Monthly 297 (January- February 2006): 71. 2, Osuna, Third, p. 132. 22 Karl Rahner, "The Eucharist and Our Daily Lives," Theological Investigations 7, trans. David Bourke (New York: Herder and Herder, 1971), pp. 211-226. 23 Rahner, "Eucharist," p. 221. 24 Rahner, "Eucharist," p. 222. Metronome Fingers nimbly running up down over ebony and ivory Unfolding medleys of joy mourning glory Euphoric allegro highs., soaring Plummeting . soulful adagio lows Soothing largo interludes inviting Carefree scherzo playfulness., dancing With rhythmic rhapsodic blues Tapping to the tempo Of happy-go-lucky whim or deep contemplation A symphonic score of a life grace-fully written Melodically enjoyed harmonically played Ticking to a metronome's beating heart. Walter Bunofsky SVD 66.3 2007 EDWARD KRASEVAC Clericalism and the Religious Life challenges Many descriptions and definitions of clericalism have been suggested since the Second Vatican Council, and a number of them seem to have this characteristic: a sense of entitlement,1 as if the priesthood were something other than a ministry of loving service in imitation of Christ or as if its center of gravity were in something other than such service. Indeed, I understand clericalism largely if not exclusively as a spu-rious entitlement, an entitlement to privileges that do not stem from the following of Christ in his ministry of service, but rather from prosaic aspects of human nature.2 Clericalism has often been understood with reference to secular or diocesan pastors and their relation to the people under their pastoral care, 248 Edward L. Krasevac OP is professor of theology at the Dominican School of Philosophy and Theology at the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley, California. In 1987 he wrote for us about Eckhart and John of the Cross and in 2002 about the relation of temperaments to lib-eral/ conservative stances. His address is 2301 Vine Street; Berkeley, California 94708. ekrasevac@dspt.edu Review for Religious to their peers and bishop, and to the structures of the diocese and church, rather than with reference to reli-gious priests, who usually live a quite different style of priesthood, one heavily influenced by the structures and charisms of their religious institute. But I surmise that clericalism is alive and well among religious priests also, although it is heavily colored--and often camouflaged-- by the dynamics of religious life) Clericalism is not the only source for the entidements I will describe below, but I think it is often operative in the seven styles of being a religious priest that I will describe. Each of these styles manifests habits that undermine the service character of the priesthood. The types are not exclusive, and some of us bear characteristics of more than one in our lives as priests. In what follows I hope to stir up self-knowledge among religious priests so that our priesthood may not easily become something other than it was meant to be. In reflecting unwarranted entidements, the various types appear "negative," but positive elements appear in them, too. I will take note of these in the hope of showing that at least some of the types are legitimate ways of being a religious priest. The Ambitious Priest The "ambitious priest" loves the possession or exercise of authority, with the accompanying prestige and perqui-sites. Some priests seek the simple possession of author-ity (in the congregation as a superior or in the church as a bishop); other priests seek not only the possession of authority but also its exercise. The religious priests who are ambitious only for the possession of authority often lack the drive and discipline to exercise it effectively; they are content with the prestige and perks of office. Their ambition may stem from a desire not to have to obey others or from their own insecurities. These priests are t249 66.3 2007 Krasevac ¯ Clericalism and the Religious Life Ambitious p iests are usually committed,to values of collaboration, consultation, or collegiality in! the exercise of authori usually not energized by authority itself. It is not author-ity itself that draws them, but rather the accoutrements of authority. Their possession of authority does not make them dangerous--they generally do not hurt others or the common good by their exercise of it--but, negatively, their office is not used for the good of their brethren and those the congregation serves. Other ambitious priests seek authority precisely in order to exercise it, and are often energetic and talented (they may, of course, also be interested in the prestige and perks of office). There are many reasons for this type of ambition: a need to control others, a desire to redress per-ceived injuries done to them by their brethren, the imposition of their own deeply felt values on others (in cases where more collegial methods of persuasion have failed), or sim-ply the exercise of power for its own sake. Ambition in these cases is usually ambition for author-ity as power over others in contrast to authority as service to others. And so ambitious priests, in either of the senses just described, are usually not committed to values of col-laboration, consultation, or collegiality in the exercise of authority,4 but tend to understand it as a personal privi-lege that should be possessed and exercised according to their own best lights and interests. Ambitious priests can have two quite different rela-tionships to ministry. In some cases they are not much involved in ministry at all, at least not very effectively, Review for Religious because they always have their eyes on "what's next," the further rung of the ladder (which requires, among other things, lots of time and energy given to internal politics). Those they serve often feel that they are only half listen-ing or responding, because their heart is elsewhere. In other cases ambitious priests throw themselves into min-istry because they know that a crowded rdsum6 can bring advancement sooner. But this success assumes effective- . ness that can be measured quantitatively, such as financial or building success. Nonetheless, ambitious priests in the second sense are often disciplined and hardworking and can appear outstanding in ministry. The entitlement operative here is for authority as power over others: a priest deserves to exercise authority and receive obedience, even if that authority and obedi-ence are not direcdy exercised in the service of his breth-ren or those whom he serves in ministry.5 Although ambition for authority as power over others is a false entidement of clericalism, ambition for author-ity as service to others may well be warranted, taking the form of actively seeking office or accepting it when prof-fered even against one's desires. Since holding office in the church these days is more often a burden than a blessing, the church needs those with the talent, motivation, and ¯ generosity for service to step forward. But, since ambition for power can be present under the mande of ambition for service, strict personal honesty is crucial. For this, dia-logue with others is essential to discerning Whether I wish to serve others in seeking or accepting a particular office, or rather wish to serve myself. Part of this discernment might be to ask myself whether I am willing to forgo perquisites of office that are not necessary for its effective exercise, or am willing to step aside if a more appropriate candidate emerges. Ambition for authority in the church requires, it seems to me, that people go through such 66.3 2007 Krasevac * Clericalis~n and the Religious Life a searching and often painful purification before being allowed to have authority in our lives. The gentleman priest is usually not bossy, and may be quite humble in his relations with others. The Gendeman Priest or Priest of Leisure As the ambitious priest loves the possession or the exercise of power, the "gendeman priest" loves the good life in at least some of its forms. Fine restaurants, the opera or symphony, the art museum, a rich social life among those who are well educated and well-off are often characteristic of this style of being a priest, as is a penchant for travel to culturally rich destina-tions. It is also impor-tant, when the gentleman priest is at home, that the table be a good one and there be enough employ-ees (or other religious) in the house to serve his needs in a style that might recall servants of old. Ministry is important to such a priest, but usually is carefully controlled so as not to interfere with the gentleman priest's other pursuits. He does not consider the real possibility of "breaking a sweat" in the Lord's vineyard, and the ministry of service is often seen as a distraction from more important callings. Comfort is important to the gentleman priest, and a decent cash flow is obviously required; poverty is not the queen of his vows. As in all forms of clericalism, a strong sense of entitlement is operative in the gentleman priest, an entidement not so much for authority as for a lifestyle that befits his education and tastes and, needless to say, his understanding of the priesthood. ¯ On the plus side, the gentleman priest is usually not very bossy, and may be quite humble in his relations with Review for Religious others.6 He is often a pleasant fellow, gracious and gener-ous to others in spontaneous and endearing ways. He is generally a person whom it is hard to dislike, and can be a delight in community (when he's there). The gende-man priest is, after all, a gendeman, one who is sensitive to other people, thoughtful, polite, well mannered. He treats others well and brings to religious life and ministry the values of culture and respect for others. And because, in the familial atmosphere of religious life just as in the domestic family, the familiar and familial may conceal or seem to excuse insensitivity to others in word and action, the formality that the gentleman priest brings--an infu-sion of genuine courtesy to and respect for others--can be a boon for both our communities and our ministries. The Gossiping Priest We religious talk a lot to each other, and a lot about each other, and about those whom we serve. This is a normal and essential part of the familial in our communal life. We should be interested in what our brothers are doing, in their ups and downs, in the joys and sorrows and accomplishments and failures of their lives. It is only when we have such knowledge that we can respond fra-ternally to them in their needs, and sometimes get some comic relief as we laugh at their foibles. Conversation and the knowledge of each other that flows from it are essential to the common good of our congregation and to the good of the individuals within it. The "gossiping priest" also loves to converse, but for very different reasons, sometimes having to do with "inno-cent curiosity," sometimes from less charitable motives (knowledge can hurt others as well as help them). Even in the case of curiosity, however, much damage can be done both to other individuals and to the common life by such conversation. Information may come to light and 66.3 2007 Kra~e~ac ¯ Clericalism and the Religiou~ Life damage or destroy a brother's good name by the very fact that it does come to light. Violations of privacy can often result from the need to know what everyone else is doing, and why; great amounts of energy can be expended in creating and maintaining elaborate networks of commu-nication, energy that could better be focused elsewhere; such networks can easily lead to an exclusivity in the com-munity that direcdy damages the common life; and the effectiveness of superiors who are trying to deal charitably and jusdy with complex personal problems of the breth-ren can be compromised by such a "need to know." In other words, "innocent curiosity" may have anything but innocent effects, and the gossiping priest (whose life is largely based on knowing and conversing about the lives of others) is too often not honest with himself concerning the reasons for and the effects of his gossip. In addition, the possibility that the confidentiality of privileged con-versations-- say, that of chapters--may be broken in the course of gossiping has a chilling effect on the freedom of a community to deal effectively with its legitimate but sensitive concerns. The entidement here is for knowledge of other peo-ple's doings, usually for the very sake of that knowledge. A priest, after all, is almost by definition one to whom secrets are communicated, one who is supposed to be privy to matters of conscience. The devastation that can be caused by the gossiping priest is in direct relation to those weighty privileges which are abused by the false entitlements of clericalism.7 More positively, in most cases the gossiping priest's life is centered on the concerns of his community, whether at the local or regional level, as on his family--and this is a good thing. In a time when the pressures are great which lead to detachment from the community and to "private life," the gossiping priest witnesses in his own Review for Relig~o~,~ way to the value and importance of our life together in the community, for the community is the major concern of his interests and his conversation. Once purged of its negative effects, the conversations of the formerly gos-siping priest can become genuinely community building and enhancing. The, Romantic Priest This manifestation of clericalism in the religious priest normally applies to those whose experience of the church is postconciliar, because the "romantic priest" is largely driven by nostalgia for the past--for what he did not per-sonally experience, but has read about and longs for. The romantic priest is not usually concerned with matters of doctrine or even authority (and thus is not necessarily a legalist); rather, he is more concerned with matters of dress, style of liturgy, the particular traditions and prac-tices of his congregation, the dignity of his priesthood, aesthetic matters, and certain (traditional and sometimes dying) devotions. He is often genuinely pious, one who is committed to his vows and the way of life that they entail. But the romantic priest loves to play a role which is largely defined by these kinds of things, and above all by the past. The complexities of contemporary life in the church and world hold little interest for him, as do the complexities of most ministries; his world and his inter-ests lie elsewhere. The entidement here is for the power to define the priesthood idiosyncratically, that is, in relation to his per-sonal interests rather than in relation to the following of Christ and the needs and interests of those whom he serves in ministry along with the needs of his brothers and sisters in religious life. The romantic priest is preoccupied with the dignity of his priesthood and tends to impose his romantic view of the church, the priesthood, and the fol- 66.3 2007 I&asevac ¯ Clericalism and the Religious Life lowing of Christ on others, both those whom he serves in ministry and those with whom he lives in community. The romantic priest brings to his community and to the church important values of Catholic culture that many people today miss; he brings a strong sense of tradition and its place in Catholic life. Grounded in something other than the contemporary and the rapidly changing, the romantic priest's rootedness in the genuine values of the past assures that he will not be enamored of every new fad in liturgy or ministry; he sees the present from the perspective of the past, because of his lively sense of the past, and can be an important witness to contemporary Catholic culture, if he does it with balance and without the entidements of clericalism. The Narrowly Focused or Dependent Priest On the face of it, the "narrowly focused priest" is a good priest indeed (much like the romantic priest). He is often quite dedicated, disciplined, prayerful, obedient, and in some (perhaps narrow) senses responsible and chari-table. He does everything that is explicidy asked of him in community and in ministry: he does what he is told, follows the rules, and is thus seen as a responsible priest, even a fine one. One of the roles he does not normally fill is to take the initiative either in ministry or community life. Others-- usually religious superiors (whom he scrupulously obeys) and statutes of his congregation--set the parameters for what is required of him. To deal with the inevitable and complex problems that arise in ministry and in the life of his community is not his calling; this is what supe-riors are for. The problems of community life in par-ticular-- at both the local and provincial levels--are their concern, not his. Further, the narrowly focused priest is often afraid to acknowledge the existence of problems Review for Religious within the ministry or community, because he might then feel the obligation to face them. Hence he may be naive about people in general and naive in choosing those who will bear the authority in his community. Much like the romantic priest, the dependent priest shies away from the complexities of real life, but rather chooses to live in a different world defined by his explicidy spelled-out obli-gations; he is content to bury his head in the sand and let others face the difficult challenges of the ministry and the common life. In both cases there is a kind of escapism to ideal worlds. Although incorporating many of the genuine values of the priesthood and religious life, the dependent priest is a burden on his community precisely insofar as he "leaves it to others," thereby escaping his own responsibility for the common good. Superiors of dependent priests appear "burned out" because they are left to deal with the dif-ficult and often intractable problems of their communities without concrete help or support. Their congregations can be severely damaged by the na'fvet6 that elects incom-petent or otherwise unworthy superiors because depen-dent priests prefer to remain uncritical regarding the real needs of their community and the character and ability of those whom they elect. Entitlement here is for the privilege to define one's obligations as priests and religious in the narrowest of terms, terms which, require litde personal responsibility, litde stress, litde compromise of one's ideals of an essen-tially trouble-free and straightforward ministry and com-munity life. The narrowly focused priest is very close to being a fine priest. He is not normally ambitious, nor a gossip, nor embittered, nor a legalist; rather, he is often humble and obedient, and loath to meddle in the affairs, of others. He generally prizes the "regular life," and lives that life 66.3 2007 Kras~ac ¯ Clericalis~n and the Religious L~fe in a disciplined and balanced way. He is, in a word, com-fortable in his role as a religious priest, largely identifying with it. And he serves both his community and those in his ministry in predictable and necessary ways. Perhaps the key to understanding and overcoming the dependent priest's perceived entidements is in recognizing that "not being of the world" as a priest and religious does not exempt one from having to deal with many of the problems of the world that nevertheless appear in com-munity life and in ministry. These problems cannot be ignored, nor quarantined to be dealt with by others. They are often very real and must be engaged as they arise, even if such engagement cause ruptures in the carefully worked-out and much respected routines of the narrowly focused priest. The Enforcer Priest One of the roles of the ministerial priesthood is to render judgment on people and their acts in the light of the gospel and the church's teaching and with a view to their repentance and salvation. The "enforcer priest" takes this role seriously and is constantly concerned that the misdeeds of others (both the laity and his own brethren) be corrected. Since he rarely if ever takes time off from this mission, his presence is generally felt to be a burden by those around him; he is rarely challenged, however, as his very presence is usually intimidating. Although judgment is a necessary aspect of the priesdy role, the enforcer priest seems preoccupied with it (and often with the punishment that should follow) to the extent that he forgets its end: human salvation. This can happen when judgment is isolated from or allowed to dominate mercy, when the enforcer priest lacks self-knowledge of his own need for mercy, when the ambiguity of all human actions in the external forum is forgotten, when prudence Review for Religious fails to suggest that a particular intervention may be inef-fective or even counterproductive regarding the person's overall good, or when he assumes an almost infallible ability to interpret the law (moral, canonical, liturgical) and its application to a particular situation,s The enforcer priest may be preoccupied with error and judgmentEboth in what people think (orthodoxy) and what they do (orthopraxis) for - a number of rea-sons. He may be threatened by the actions and beliefs of others to the extent that they are perceived to call into question his ° own (perhaps frag-ile) values, beliefs, and lifestyle. He may be emotion-ally unable to live with diversity, ambiguity, and the lack of psychological certitude. He may have fears of ecclesial anarchy if laws are not swiftly and effectively enforced. The entidement here is the ~resumption that a priest may speak for Christ and the church without mercy, with-out prudence, without the nuance that comes from expe-rience and compassion, that he may apply the letter of the law without regard to its purpose, and that (in some cases, at least) he may judge others without first judging himself with rigorous honesty. On a more positive note, fraternal correction is a gos-pel imperative and a crucial need in most religious com-munities (and, of course, in the church at large). We are Alfhough judgment is a necessary a~pect of t~ prestly role, the enforcer priest seems preoccupied with it to the extent that he forgets its end: human salvation. 66.3 2007 260 responsible for one another's well-being in all its aspects. But fraternal correction--if undertaken prudendy, effec-tively, and in a true gospel spirit--is also a particularly difficult task. One who corrects one's brother or sister risks anger, alienation, and the loss of friends. It is much easier to ignore the true needs of one another and to just get along with them peacefully. Real courage is necessary to practice fraternal correction, which sometimes compels us to confront those who need confronting for their good and for the common good. The enforcer priest can show us the way to this responsibility, provided that the cleri-cal entitlements associated with this style of priesthood are held in check. The enforcer priest must learn not to undertake fraternal correction according to his own likes or dislikes, desires, insecurities, preferences, or ideologies, but rather for the sake of the other's true and necessary good, or that of the community, and without intent to embarrass or punish. The Embittered Priest The "embittered priest" has been deeply hurt by cer-tain experiences in ministry or in the life of his religious community (usually the latter) and has tenderly nourished that hurt for a number of years. Perhaps he was slighted by notable others (whether in authority or.not), perhaps never given the responsibility in ministry or community that he thought he deserved, perhaps denied a second term as superior, or perhaps he has just never received the respect from others that he thinks he deserves. As a result, the embittered priest has largely disen-gaged himself from both ministry and community life. He "deserved better" in his many years of priesthood and has now "opted out" of the life that has treated him so poorly. Often older, and sometimes suffering from illness (including alcoholism), the embittered priest is unhappy Review for Religious himself and cannot but make those around him--who are often the ones taking care of him--unhappy also. He sees his clerical entidement as coming from the very fact that he is a priest and religious, rather than from his achievements, character, or talents. He feels this enti-dement so deeply that without it he must withdraw from his basic responsibilities as a priest and religious (although he still feels entided to the rights that his canonical status entails). The life and experiences of the embittered priest point to the reality that we do hurt each other in religious life and that the wounds we inflict can be lasting. We all have different tolerances for being hurt, and we need to be sen-sitive to the harm we can do to others less resilient than ourselves. In addition, the continuing presence of these men in our lives calls us to care for them in their distress even when they neither want nor appreciate our help, but need it. They call us to be Christ in ways that we might not otherwise be. Ideals and Compromises Our following of Christ and our loving ministry in imitation of him in the particular way characterizes the ministerial priesthood is a high ideal, one difficult to achieve and always at risk of compromise. The com-promises we sometimes make may simply stem from our manifold weaknesses and lack of love and then be rec-ognized, repented of, and borne in stride as we take up pursuit of the ideal once again. But our compromises may also stem from our conceptions of the priesthood itself and hence may be more difficult to recognize and repent of. These compromises stem from the ideologies of cleri-calism, 9 ideologies that affect the exercise of the priest-hood of Christ in particularly invidious ways. It is only by recognizing the clerical compromises in the ways we live 66.3 2007 Krasevac * Clericalism and the Religious Life 262] our priesthood in our religious communities that we can begin to address them)° Notes i It is interesting that a sense of entidement is a classic character-istic of all forms of narcissism. 2 How do these entidements arise from clericalism? Perhaps par-tially from an exaggeration and ideologizing of the sacramental differ-ence that holds between the ministerial priesthood and the priesthood of all the baptized, perhaps because priests who have "given up all" for the sake of the kingdom come to believe that they "deserve" some-thing by way of entidement in return, perhaps because the structure of secular society with its manifold entidements has unduly influenced the life of the church 3 Dynamics such as the manifold forms of governance in religious institutes; those institutes' often rich cultural heritages and particular liturgical, doctrinal, and aesthetic traditions; the familial contexts of most forms of religious life, with many religious living closely with each other for many years; and the educational and cultural possibilities generally available to religious priests, and also their mobility. 4 The roots of the word "authority" have to do with "causing to grow." This has obvious meaning for parents' authority over their chil-dren, but it also adds depth to the idea of authority as service; supe-riors and bishops bear a special responsibility to deepen the faith and the personal development of those over whom they have been given authority. 5 The desire for power that stems from clerical entidement may take a different form in religious priests who do not seek authority for themselves, but for those whom they will be able to control. Generally intelligent and shrewd, they care little for the prestige or perks of office, but seek control of those in office, perhaps because they believe that such power is a right of their intelligence and farsightedness. Often this ambi-tion stems from a fear that their brethren will not "get it right" through the normal democratic processes of deliberation and election, or from a fear that if their enemies were elected they would be vulnerable to their attacks. This ambition can also stem from their unwillingness to accept public accountability for their positions and actions. The dynamics of entitlement, however, are essentially the same in all cases of ambition-- entitlement for power over others rather than in service of others. 6 A variation of the priest of leisure is the "hobbyist priest," who loves, not so much the good life of culture, but other aspects of the good life, such as a fascination with computers or a preoccupation with Revie~v for Religious domestic concerns. Hours, days, even weeks can be spent on equiva-lents, with little attention given to traditional responsibilities of the priesthood. Here the hobby provides not a well-deserved respite from priesdy work, but a substitute for it. The entidement issues are essen-tially the same: the priesthood "deserves" (if not requires) a life of leisure, the time and resources to pursue their interests largely unfet-tered by the ministry. 7 One further negative dynamic often present in the lives of gos-siping priests is that they become friends with others who have similar habits of gossiping. Their friendship is not about something good that can lead to their growth as human beings and as religious and priests, but about something that can compromise their friendship at its core and impede their growth in goodness. 8 Unlike the romantic priest, the enforcer priest usually is a "legal-ist," that is, one who is so preoccupied with the letter of the law that he forgets the end to which the law is ordered (ultimately the realization of the good of human salvation) or sees it to be of secondary importance. A certain .myopia prevents the enforcer priest from understanding the relation of means to end, the relative nature of the former to the latter. The enforcer priest and the romantic priest usually believe that oth-ers should live according to the values they think important (values of right belief and conduct / romantic, values). One difference is that the romantic priest is usually not inclined to impose his values on others and is content to live according to them himself and to persuade others of their merit in more subde ways. 9 Ideologies are "views that serve to rationalize the vested interests of some group." "The ideology both justifies what is done by the group whose vested interest is served and interprets social reality in such a way that the justification is made plausible." Peter Berger, An Invitation to Sodology: A Humanistic Perspective (New York: Penguin Books, 1963), pp. 54 and 130. ~0 As mentioned above, a sense of entidement is a classic character-istic of all forms of narcissism (both individual and group), and hence one may expect that narcissistic attitudes will be part and parcel of the phenomenon of clericalism. This is displayed most clearly in those cases where the priesthood is understood as being primarily about the self rather than about Christ and service to others. In these cases the priesthood is seen to be primarily about me and hence is "defined" in terms of my needs and my desires, rather than the needs and desires of those I have been called to serve. In both the gendeman priest and the gossiping priest, there is often a fascination with things "churchy," that is, with the accidentals or outward trappings of church life; this may be true of the romantic 263 66.3 2007 Krusevac * Clericalism and the Religious Life and enforcer priests as well. This concern with "churchiness" may be an enduring aspect of clericalism and is probably bound up with the narcissism that is characteristic of clericalism--focus on the self in its more superficial aspects. Questions for Reflection]Discussion Whether I am a priest or someone exercising ministry in the service of the church, do I find myself described in one or other of the categories proposed by Krasevac? How would I want to add to Or negate some of the qualities? What other major catergories would I want to identify? Do people see a kind of "clericalism" in religious life as lived by both women and men? What forms does this "clericalism" take in religious life? How might we live differently if we religious were to be free of such a designation? 264 Review for Religious PATRICK SEAN MOFFETT Conversations on Eucharist T~Eucharist in its entirety, inclusiveness, and uni-sality is an integral engagement of the worshiping Body of Christ. It constitutes the singular act, par excel-lence, of the believing community. The lay people, priests, and religious of the Roman Catholic Church understand the Eucharist to be the source and summit of the spiritual life (LG §11, Catechism §1324). The Eucharist, and for many centuries the daily Eucharist, has provided aspirants to holiness with sustenance, moral instruction, corporate bonding, and strengthening of belief. No Mass today? On days when there is no Eucharistic celebration accessible, daily communicants might welcome, alone or with others, spiritual engagements that include some of these elements: word and act, thanks and praise, offer-ing and communion. Should such days multiply, daily communicants may need to revisit the grounding of our spirituality. Patrick Scan Moffett CFC wrote for us in 1984 and 2001. He may be addressed at Christian Brothers; 4949 N.E. 2nd Avenue; Miami, Florida 33137. 66.3 2007 ~loffett ¯ on~er~atiom on Eucharist 266, As we extrapolate current trends in priesdy vocations and the growth of the people of God, we perhaps see a time when Eucharist as we know it today will not be readily accessible to much of the church. Some feel called upon to anticipate such an eventuality by reducing the frequency of their own participation in Eucharist. For some formation directors, that decision is extended to those whom they prepare for future service to the church. Others prefer to engage fully in what is currendy avail-able, trustful that either the trends will change or that they will be blessed with the strength to confront such challenges if and when they occur. Age will be a factor in deciding for oneself. Older men and women might see no need to alter a way of life that can safely carry them through their remaining years. Deciding for others calls for serious discernment. No matter which strategy is chosen, we will do well to review the role of daily Eucharist in the spiritualities that have helped to shape .our lives and those of our dis-tant and more recent ancestors. Theologians, canonists, spiritual writers, and spiritual directors have much to contribute to a reexamination of theories and praxes of Eucharistic spiritualities. Conversations on Eucharist, such as those referred to in what follows, could be useful starting points. For purposes of this article and from the perspective of a psychologist, I will offer some preliminary samplings of the interface of Eucharist and the ongoing processes of belonging and self-definition. Varying perspectives will suggest what might need to be considered before defining new paths to holiness. The Eucharist in the lives of daily communicants Recently I have been inviting some daily communi-cants to engage in extended conversation about the place Review for Religious of Eucharist in their lives. The questions I ask and my understanding of responses they evoke are surely con-ditioned by my experience as a religious and as a psy-chologist. What I recognize as themes of agency, identity, relationships, belonging, and development have deeper and richer meaning both for those who are speaking of their insights and for their listeners, who bring their own experiential and intellectual perspectives. The selection of participants is by no means a random sample. Preliminary conversation has indicated that they have been daily commu-nicants for a significant '~ part of their lives and that they are comfortable in sharing their thoughts and feelings. Those who welcome the invitation need little prompting. They readily attest to the ~ centrality of the Eucharist with respect to most of the other engagements of their day. They describe the Mass as bringing together the sacred and the mundane, the joys and the struggles, the fears and the hopes, the hurts and the healing that shape their day. As the initial response concludes, I ask if any moments in the ritual have particular significance for them or bring together what they have just described. Some respond immediately, others pause and then report resistance to singling out any part of the entire experience. One religious, responding to my probing on such aspects of special focus during the Mass, identified the moment of Communion and what he saw as the "all too brief time after Communion." He went on to note that his ordained friends, on the other hand, tend to place the i ask ifany moments " in the ritual have particular significance for them. 267 66.3 2007 Moffett ¯ Conversations on Eucharist 268 emphasis on the Consecration or the Invocation of the Spirit over the gifts. I ask myself and.others: Who are the protagonists in this sacred event? We begin in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. How is the Trinity experienced? Who is With me at Eucharist? Who else is present :around the altar, in the pews, dispersed about the earth, or in the heavens? Who comes from afar, or from long ago? Who of my sisters and brothers, family, friends, neighbors, coworkers, acquaintances are especially present to me during the Mass? Whom do I make present with my thoughts, memories, and prayers? I understand that part of my role is to gather guests from the highways and the alleys. All are welcome. The Master seeks a full house for the sharing of the banquet. Levels of belonging Belonging, as an action and as a consequence of group engagement, contributes to the identification of both the individual and the group. Each member has a creative role in the formation of both the "I" and the "we." Eucharist ritualizes and celebrates who we are as a people and who we are becoming. Observers of human development chart stages of growth. Infancy, childhood, pubescence, adolescence, and young adulthood are seen as steps toward full maturity. So too in groups there are successive levels of belong-ing.~ Members move from acceptance to participation, from participation to engagement, and eventually from engagement to proprietorship. Individuals understand themselves increasingly in terms of the group. Eucharist provides a forum for affirming membership. I have been accepted into the people of God. I am a Catholic. I do what Catholics do. I believe. My engagement in the lives Review for Religious of my brothers and sisters in the church expresses the essence of who I am and who we are. We are the Body of Christ. While there might be a sense in which we "make belief," Pope Benedict XVI has urged caution: Here I think it is very important to stress one essential point: no one believes purely on his own. We always believe in and with the church. The creed is always a shared act: it means letting ourselves be incorpo-rated into a communion of progress, life, words, and thought. ¯. We must let ourselves fall, so to speak, into the communion of faith, of the church. Believing is in itself a Catholic act. It is participation in this great certainty, which is present in the church as a living subject. ¯ . . Day after day we must deepen our communion " with the holy church and thus with the Word of God . Only when we are united in the church do we belong to the church, do we become members of the church, do we live by the word of God which is the life-giving force of the church. And those who live by the word of God can only live it because it is alive and vital in the living church) Identity Those schooled in scholastic philosophy might recall the struggles around the principle of individuation. Prime matter, the amorphous "substance" common to all being, affords no differentiation as such. Form (anima) serves to distinguish between levels of being, but is common to all members of the same stratum of being. To arrive at differentiation, attention is directed to the baecceitas, the "thisness" of a particular being. Form is imposed on the universal matter in the here and now (see Th.Aq., De Veritate 2.6-7). The action yields an individual being. What might also be attributed to the seemingly infinite possibilities of constellations of DNA is explained as deriv- 269 66.3 2007 Moffett * Conversations on Eucharist ing its uniqueness from the moment of incarnation. Word is made flesh and dwells among us. At some moment in time and in a particular place I am, we are. A series of events earns me a name, a role, and a his-tory. They bond°me with clusters of other human beings, groups among whom I have an ever more distinct place as both individual and member. I belong to a family, a group of friends, of associates, a community, a country. I am an alumnus, a professional, a supporter of causes, a member of a party, or perhaps one of the group that shuns such memberships. These group-forming events may be circumstantial or intentional. I do not choose my family. My first friends tend to be those in Participation in daily Eucharist confirms an aspect self-definition and en ga ged,me in a process of ego ,extension. the immediate vicin-ity or at my school. Gradually I become more selective. I go away to a university. I choose a profession, opening new possi-bilities of bonding. I marry. I am ordained. I join a religious congregation. Each choice helps to define me and also the others I include when using the first per-son plural. Participation in daily Eucharist confirms an aspect of self-definition and engages me in a process of ego extension. 270 Prayer in the first person plural The Eucharistic ritual may be viewed as an exercise in gathering. Whoever is present joins with the priest and others "in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit." Each successive "Amen" serves to expand and to confirm this bonding among those who Review for Religious seek mercy, offer praise, listen to the word, and proclaim "Thanks be to God." Together we express our belief in all that defines us individually and collectively as people of God. We ask God to hear our prayers. The celebrant invites us to ask that our sacrifice be acceptable. We lift up our hearts to the Lord. From the end of the offertory through the Eucharistic Prayer, the first person singular occurs only in the words of Jesus: This in my body, my blood. Do this in memory of me. We unite in the Memorial Acclamation and begin to acclaim our larger sense of who stands with us in the pres-ence of our God: our ancestors, saints, angels, all who have gone before us, our sisters and brothers, the church throughout the world. Together in the unity of the Holy Spirit we proclaim the great Amen. The Our Father makes repeated use of the first person plural. The first person singular returns with the Communion. I am not worthy, but I will be healed so that I may join with the others in sharing the bread. The ritual concludes in the communal blessing, again in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit and with a com-munal Amen. In union with the holy sacrifice of the Mass throughout the world In the conversations on Eucharist, the daily partici-pants often express the belief that what is happening in their local church or chapel is part of a larger, continu-ous gathering of the church throughout the world and throughout the ages. They refer to the Last Supper as the initiation of an event that is as much a present reality as it is the deposit of the faith of their ancestors. Several reli-gious have noted that, while religious formation helped shape their understanding of Eucharist, they brought the practice from their families. 271 66.3 2007 Moffe~ ¯ Conversations on Eucharis~ They go on to indicate that the time of the Mass itself is not necessarily when they have the most powerful expe-rience of the presence of the Lord. They speak of cen-tering prayer, lectio divina, or moments in ministry or service as the source of a joy that they will later bring to the Eucharist. Visits to the Blessed Sacrament The preservation of the Eucharistic species for pur-poses of cult is minutely regulated by tradition and decree. Today's priesthood, the ordained and the nonordained participation of the laity, has reset the bounds of the sacred. Devotion takes new forms. The liturgy empha-sizes the immolation of the sacrificial Victim and the communal consumption of the divine banquet. Our times are marked by fewer priests, fewer celebrations, multifunctional worship spaces, limited visiting hours--scarcity issues and vagrancy concerns. Ecumenical unease marks practices that others might not distinguish from idolatry or superstition. And yet churches in retirement areas are reporting that the chapels of the Blessed Sacrament are centers of vibrant and steady worship. Youth leaders attest that silent time before the Blessed Sacrament has a unique attraction for many of today's adolescents. They willingly participate in quiet beholding. Behold announces some of the more powerful moments of the Scriptures. Adam and Eve have such a moment, and it evokes fear. Jacob experiences the Lord poised over Youth leaders attest thdt silent time before the Blessed Sacrament,has a= unique attraction for many of today's adolescentd. Review for Religious him and marvels: "Indeed, the Lord is in this place, and I did not know" (Gn 28:17). Mary is shaken by the words of the annunciation and responds, inviting reflection on what she is experiencing. "Behold the handmaid of the Lord." Generations have waited to behold the Wonder Counselor, the Prince of~ Peace. John the Baptist identifies Jesus: "Behold the Lamb of God" (Jn 1:35). And years later a peasant is asked to explain a daily ritual. Coming home from work in the fields, he visits a chapel, slips into a pew, and simply sits for half an hour before the tabernacle. To what end? "I look at Him and He looks at me." Perception The beholder and the beheld enter into a moment of profound access to each other. Each delights in the other, the Creator and the created, the Redeemer and the redeemed, the Spirit and the confirmed. Past and future converge in an experience of the divine Presence, Self-absorption? Me and Jesus? The communicants claim that the Eucharist makes it much more. There under the sign of bread are the lives of those, united in banquet and sacrifice, who do all in memory of the Lord: the priest called from among the people to articulate their hurts and hopes, one with. them in uniting their daily lives to that of Jesus, believers and those helped in their unbelief, those commemorated, the living and the dead, a communion of the faithful. This is the Body of Christ, the people of God, the church. Here I am at once at home and in the world, with those I know and love, with those I do not know but seek to love. We forgive and are forgiven. Agency Conversations afford an insight into the perceived "agency" of the speaker.3 In describing my actions I 66.3 2007 Moffett * Conversations on Eucharist acknowledge aspects of my engagement that come from within. I choose to go, I seek out, I attend, I listen, I pray. I work past dis.tractions, past reservations about the celebrant or my fellow congregants. Yes, I am an agent in the process. Those who accompany me are also agents. We chose to act together. The Lord is, in a similar sense, the principal agent of the Eucharist. Paul teaches that the Lord whose kingdom is among us and whose will is being done on earth and in heaven is transforming us as individuals and as a group. Scriptures reveal a God who is "forming a people particularly his own" (Tt 2:14). We profess that as we engage in Eucharist the Lord is doing great things among us. In the last analysis my agency is simply one of consent-ing to what the Lord is doing to me, to us. Here a psychol-ogist invites others to carry forward the conversation. Choosing to stay the course--the joy of the journey This brief summary of what I am hearing from a very small set of the faithful brings us back to the conclusion of the first recorded conversation on Eucharist. John had Jesus' listeners requesting "Give us always this bread." Jesus indicates that they do not fully understand what they are asking. '¢I'his is the bread that has come down from heaven; not as your fathers ate the manna, and died. He who eats this bread shall live forever" (Jn 6:59). Jesus challenges his listeners. Some depart. Others join Peter, a bit perplexed, but willing to stay the course: "To whom shall we go? You have the words of everlasting life.We have come to believe and to know that you are the Christ, the Son of God" (Jn 6:69-70). Peter does not always get it right. Paul calls him to task on the issue of who is invited to the feast (Ga 2:12). A postresurrection conversation on the way to Emmaus moves two early disciples. They seek out the others and Review for Religious share with burning hearts what happened along the way and in the breaking of the bread (Lk 24:33). That conver-sation continues and needs to continue in our day. Notes 1 P.S. Moffett, "Promoting Agency among Children and Adolescents at the Margins" (Invited Address, American Psychological Association), Journal of Pastoral Counseling 30 (1995). 2 Discourse/speech of Pope Benedict XVI with the Clergy of Rome, 2 March 2006. See the Vatican web page. 3 Dan P. McAdams, The Stories We Live By (New York: William Morrow and Company, 1993); David Bakan, The Duality of Human Existence: Isolation and Communion in Western Man (Boston: Beacon Press, 1996). Prayer Lord, do you now therefore, speaking through my lips, pro-nounce over this earthly travail your twofold efficacious word: the word without which all that our wisdom and our experi-ence have built up must totter and crumble~the word through which all our most far-reaching speculations and our encounter with the universe are come together into a unity. Over every living thing which is to spring up, to grow, to flower, to ripen during this day say again the words: This is my Body. And over every death-force which waits in readiness to corrode, to wither, to cut down, speak again your commanding words which express the supreme mystery of faith: this is my Blood. Teilhard de Chardin, The Mass on the World from Hym .of the Universe, p. 23. 66.3 2007 the feminine DAMIAN C. ILODIGWE Mary and the Magnificat 276 The church teaches us that the Blessed Virgin Mary was assumed into heaven body and soul at the end of her earthly life, to share in the glory of her Son. This is what the solemnity of the Assumption celebrates. It is the victory of Christ over sin and death. Mary was the first beneficiary of this victory, and that is why God preserved her body from decay, not allowing it to undergo corruption. But the victory of Christ is also our victory, as the church affirms in the mystery of faith when we proclaim "Dying you destroyed our death, rising you restored our life, Lord Jesus, come in glory." Like several other feasts of Mary, the Assumption underlines the place of Mary in Christian life. This derives from her privileged choice as the Mother of the Savior. It is not as if she was chosen for this important assignment Damian C. Ilodigwe'is a priest and a lecturer in philoso-phy at Ss. Peter and Paul Major Seminary; P.M.B. 5171, Secretariat P.O; Ibadan, Nigeria. dammychuks@yahoo. tom Review for Religio~s because of anything she was. The choice was gratuitous, depending wholly on God's grace. It is only fitting and proper that mankind should also honor her after she was so honored by God. From the text of Mary's song of thanksgiving in response to the greeting and commendation of her cousin Elizabeth, it is evident that Mary was not oblivious of the significance of her ~privileged choice. She was aware that it was the work of the Lord. And the reality of her choice filled her with immense gratitude and appreciation, to which she gave expression in the celebrated words .of the Magnificat: My soul proclaims the greamess of the Lord, and my spirit exults in God my savior, because he has looked upon his lowly handmaid. Yes, from this day forward all generations will call me blessed, for the Almighty has done great things for me. Holy is his name, and his mercy is from age to age for those who fear him. (Lk 1:46-50) Mary, Privilege and Responsibility We share in the sentiments of appreciation that Mary expresses here. We all enjoy one privilege or another, and, when we come to appreciate the value of what we have, it is often with gratitude. Consider, for instance, the joy of motherhood or fatherhoo& It is a unique privilege to be the father of a child just as it is a unique privilege to be the mother of a child. None of us ever chooses our parents. They are one of those things that are given to us. In the case of his only-begotten Son, God. made the choice of his mother and Mary was the woman. But the joy of mother-hood is not in any way diminished. On the contrary, it is elevated to a greater height because Mary's child is not just any child, but the savior of the world, the Son of God. It is one thing to say that .the joy of motherhood is unique. It is another thing to be a good mother. One is a 277 66.3 2007 llodig~e ¯ Nlary and the ~lagn~at privilege and the other is a duty. For every privilege there is a corresponding responsibility. Being a good mother is the responsibility that goes with the privilege of being a mother. In the case of Mary, she not only enjoyed the privilege but was also a good mother. She took seriously the duties that follow from being a mother. And this we can confirm from the various episodes in the life of Jesus right from the moment of his conception to the time he was buried.1 What we notice is an inseparable union between mother and Son, with the mother doing all she could .to care for her Son. She shared in the sufferings of her Son and remained with him when the going became tough and everyone deserted him. Little wonder she is called the mother of sorrows, given that she was fully united with her son in his passion. The two hearts were one in suffering. It is only logical, then, that when Jesus achieved his glory he should make sure that his mother shared in his glory. This is the logic that underpins the mystery of the Assumption of Mary into heaven. We can regard it as an explicit reward for Mary's fidehty,z True, by the privileged choice of God, she became the mother of Jesus, being preserved from original sin. But it was .by her own cooperation with the grace of God that she preserved her virginity and remained sinless all through her life, so that in her we witness the triumph of life over death, a result that awaits all who walk in the footsteps of Christ. 278 The Example of Mary and Our Contemporary Situation We might ask what all this means for us. The truth is that we too ~are privileged to be followers of Jesus. It is a privilege to be a Christian, and by virtue of our being Christians we carry Jesus in,our hearts. Jesus dwelt in the womb of Mary for nine months and through this medium Review for Religio~ was introduced to the world. Mary's womb was the origi-nal .locus of the mystery of the incarnation. The Word took flesh first in the womb of Mary before he was born in Bethlehem. By the power of divine grace, this same action takes place when we are baptized into the death and resurrection of Jesus. The Word made flesh makes our heart his abode and dwells with us and among us, and through us he is intro-duced to the world. So it is always a unique moment when we step forward to receive Jesus . in Holy Communion. This moment is fundamental to the definition of our Christian identity in the sense that it invites us to become what we receive. While it is a privilege to bear Jesus in our hearts, we need to ask ourselves how well we fulfill the duties deriv-ing from this privilege. We need to ask how we are living as Christians. I suppose this is where the life of Mary speaks to us. We should be concerned to know whether we are giving our best to our Christian commitment. There is no question that the challenges of being a Christian are enormous. They call for a great deal of sacrifice, and it is unlikely that we shall measure up unless we are supported by the grace of God. To love God with all our hearts and serve him with a single-minded devotion is not something easy. It will often require us to do what we would rather not do. And sometimes it may mean having to put off our plan and agenda in order to allow God to have his place in our life. It means preferring God to self and to any other human being. This is what it means to love God in all things and above all things. ~ It is a privilege to be ,. . ~ a Christian, and by virtue of our being Christians ¯ we car~Jesus in,our hearts. 279 66.3 2007 Ilodigwe ¯ Mary and the Magnificat Given her status as protodisciple of Jksus, we can confidently turn to her to teach us how to be disciples of her Son. 280] The demand is radical. But we need not be afraid because in Mary we have an example of one who has passed through this challenge. We see, for example, how she strug-gled through the challenge of accepting God's plan and putting aside her original plan of marrying Joseph. It is not as easy as it sounds. We must consider that it was really a painful choice, as it will be in deciding for God in difficult circumstances in our life. With Mary, however, her faith was the secret of her success. We cannot forget easily her celebrated fiat, which should be our own attitude to all that life brings to us, especially when it seems to run contrary to our desires. "Let it be done to me according to your word" (Lk 1:38) was her response to the angel's invitation to be the mother of Jesus, despite all the confusion and trouble that the thought of this caused her. It is always best to prefer the will. of God to our own will or the will of any other mortal. We may not see the point immediately, but it always turns out that our peace truly lies in the will of God. There are probably no saints who did not come to realize this basic point at some time in their life. It is the same point that St. Augustine expresses at the summit of his search for God when he says, "Our hearts are made for you, O God, and we remain resdess until we rest in you." This has remained the deepest spiritual truth that all disciples of Jesus must learn if they are to attain the life of blessedness, which is the ultimate reward of discipleship. Mary was the first to teach this lesson and live it out by the manner of her life. Review for Religious Thus she was not only the Mother of Jesus, but also the first disciple of Jesus. She was the first to follow him as he deserves to be followed. And in following him she did not spare herself. She gave everything she could give, so that the bond between mother and Son was no mere physical bond, nor was it a mere biological bond. True, they were bonded physically and biologically. Yet the most crucial bond proved to be the spiritual bond, since mother and Son were one in heart and mind. Because of this deep spiritual bond, the mother was prepared to be spent for her Son and, true to Simeon's prophecy, her heart was pierced with sorrow,6 so that like the man of sorrows she became the mother of sorrows, identifying most fully with her Son's predicament (see Lk 2:21-3 5). On one occasion Jesus had been teaching, and there came a message that his brothers and sisters were waiting to see him. In his characteristic manner, he turned to the crowd and responded by asking, "Who are my brothers and sisters?" He then went on to answer that "my broth-ers and sisters are those who do the will of my Father." We may say the question is startling. But the answer conveys his meaning, that the spiritual bond is more important than the biological bond, so that it is not our physical affiliation with Jesus that matters as much as our spiritual affiliation with him. Of course there is no opposition between the two. Yet to ignore the claim of the latter at the expense of the former easily empties discipleship of its true meaning. We must say that Jesus' emphasis on the spiritual serves to preclude this possibility. No one other than Mary under-stood the demand of both affiliations. Indeed in her we find an excellent integration of both demands. Beyond the fact that she was the mother of Jesus, she sought above all to realize the will of God in her life even at the cost of great pain and sacrifice. 66.3 2007 Ilodig'we ¯ ~/~ary and the ~Vlaffnificat Given her status as protodisciple of Jesus, we can confidendy turn to her to teach us how to be disciples of her Son. We can turn to her to teach us how to love and serve her Son with all our heart. As she was always there for Jesus, she is always there for us, since by the gift of her Son she has also became our mother, and what a good mother she is! She continues her work still on behalf of us her children from her heavenly throne, where she reigns with her Son in the glory of the resurrection. She continues to labor to ensure the fulfillment of her Son's wish that all people be saved. Thus, on a day such as the solemnity of the Assumption, we must ask her for the grace to grow in our knowledge, love, and service of Jesus. We must ask her to obtain for us the grace to be faithful to our Christian commitment, so that at the end of our lives here on earth we shall .have the privilege of entering into the glory of the Lord. Notes ' See Federico Suarez, Joseph of Nazareth (Abingdon, England: Scepter, 1982), chapters 6-7. 2 See Mark Miravalle, Introduction to Mary: The Heart of Marian Devotion and Doctrine (Santa Barbara: Queenship Publishing Company, 1993), chapter 2. Review for Religious LEO HERETO Margaret, the Woman of Becchi Mthargaret Bosco was the mother of John Bosco, e diocesan priest who began the Salesian soci-ety for the education of poor and abandoned youth in Turin, a congregation that soon spread through Italy and around the world. Today it is in 192 countries. Hugh of St. Victor declared in the 12th century that the aim of all human activity is the recovery° of Eden and that Eden's very nature is to be unchangeable. In the garden two persons, a man and a woman, failed. The story is stark as narrated in Genesis 3:1-20. In John Bosco's life a woman played a most important part. It is a hundred and fifty years since this woman, Margaret Occhiena, passed away, but her profound influence remains in the Salesians of St. John Bosco. When we think of vocations to the priesthood and to consecrated life, we must never underestimate the feminine dimension. Vocations seem to spring from the womb of women devoted to God and his divine will. When her father in his patriarchal way decided on marriage for his daughter, Leo Hereto SDB writes from Don Bosco Technical Centre; Postal Box 124; Apia, Samoa. 66.3 2007. Hereto * Margaret, the Woman of Becchi 284 Margaret Occhiena married the widower Francis Bosco, a young farmer twenty-seven years old. He had lost his first wife after six years of marriage and was left with a three-year- old son, Anthony. At her marriage in June 1812, Margaret was twenty-three. This marriage saw the birth of Joseph in 1813 and John on 16 August 1815. Francis was to die in May 1817 after suffering what appears to be some type of pneumonia. Before dying he asked Margaret to "take special care of our baby John, who is just twenty-one months old." At twenty-nine Margaret was left with three children, her stepson and her own two boys, and her mother-in-law, the children's "Nonna." Her catechetical method was not what she learned from books, for she was unable to read, but she empha-sized living in the presence of God. The children were taught the importance of duty, openness to others, and never to say no to anyone in need, whether that person was a beggar or a fugitive from the police. Margaret would spend the night with dying people, holding their hands and consoling them. Her children were three dif-ferent characters. Anthony had lost his mother at three and his father at nine, and these deaths had left a scar on his character that made him hostile and nasty in the family. He was "like a bear with a sore head." When his grandmother ("Nonna") died in 1826, he often became violent. He had a deep dislike for his stepbrother John. When John set a book down on the table, the young man would toss it with a great deal of bravado into the wood stove, stamp his foot, and say, "We are workers, and only workers are accepted in this house." Margaret treated this little "Pharaoh" with great calm and concern, never beating him for his misbehavior and always treating him with great kindness as her husband's son. Anthony would sometimes hurl cutting and hurtful words at Margaret, often using the Italian word for stepmother (matrigna), a Review for Religious word with harsh and insulting overtones. Margaret never made an issue of this, but treated him gently but firmly. The Time of Great Decision. In 1835, as John reflected on his vocation, he felt the appeal of joining the Franciscans who had a center among the hills of Piedmont. Poor peasant that he was, he knew that his mother would find it hard to provide the fees for the seminary at Turin. So,he met the prior of the Franciscans, who made him sit for an examination. He passed it very well and was ready to begin his pos-tulancy that year. When John's parish priest heard about this desire of his to join the Franciscans, he rushed to Mama Margaret and told her in shock of her son's proposal to become a Franciscan. Faithful parishioner, the good lady listened to him and reflected on what he said. Later that day, when John came home, his mother with womanly wisdom said, "I have nothing to say to you regarding your vocation, except that you should do what God inspires you to do! Do not be concerned on my behalf. You owe me nothing. Never forget that I was born in poor circum-stances and have lived in poverty all my life. I am happy to die poor. I tell you this seriously. If you ever become wealthy, I shall never cross your doorstep!" John went to the seminary. After his first Mass at Becchi, Margaret had something to confide to her son. "John, you area priest. You will be , "!Neve~rforget that I was born in poor circumstances and ~ ' havk lived in poverty all my life. , i am happy to die poor." 285 66.3 2007 Hereto ¯ ~largaret, the Woman of Becchi 286] celebrating the Eucharist, and so you will be closer to Christ. Remember, John, that to begin to celebrate Mass is also to begin to suffer. You will not realize this at once, but you will gradually become more and more aware of it." In 1844 John finally finished his postsacerdotal stud-ies and began his apostolate for the benefit of boys and young men. He found that without some type of hostel his work for boys would be in vain, He managed to buy a place, the "Pinardi shed," in the "red light" area of Turin. Close to this shed was the villa Gioiosa, notorious for the characters that fitted into this industry. Don Bosco gradu-ally built up a kind of club consisting of boys who were orphans or were seeking work in the big city or had been driven there from the countryside that had been ravaged by drought in recent years. Spending time with these young men, he would have heard people cry, "What are you doing with these young-sters?" His mother was the answer to this problem. She was fifty-three years old, matron or rather queen in her home at Becchi, surrounded by her children and her chil-dren's children. But, when asked by her son to be a part-ner in his apostolate, she packed a small basket with her few clothes, her folded wedding dress and not much more, and went with him to face the chaIlenges of an apostolate among the rejected of society. With this wise mother of his, he would discuss things. And she did the cooking for two hundred, mending their torn clothes, looking after the sick. She became so involved in this apostolate that to.some it seemed rashness or misdirected faith. When a poor beggar came to the door looking for food, Margaret looked at her wedding ring and gave it to him to help feed his large family. Love is limidess. Her wedding dress sym-bolically became a vestment for the Lord. As the rough and at times uncouth young men streamed into the shed at night, she would offer them a thought for the day. Review for Religious In Salesian tradition this became what is called a "good night" (buonanorte) In November 1856 the little lady of Becchi was fast fading away. With deep faith she received her son's bless-ing and the anointing of sick. On 25 November, at sixty-three years of age, this woman of grace gave her soul back to God. Like Monica she asked John not to fret over her going but to remember her at Mass. In her little room were a few old clothes, patched and repatched. Pope John Paul II said of her, "She was a woman of God." Sonnet for the Fall The story of our ancient discontent, Or myth, or fable, or a rueful guess, Catching the heart's sense of slow, sad descent, From fresh to stale, from much to less and less; The arriving, never quite where we went, Words, never quite sufficient to express Exactly what we mean, or thought we meant, The failure even of seeming success. "You'll learn," we tell our children and they will, As we have learned, whose parents learned it, too - The lesson only living can instill, Teaching us Augustine's prayer anew: Lord, thou hast made us for thyself and we Fall, ever, till we fall to rest in thee. Ian T. White 66.3 2007 DAVID COGHLAN Discernment in Common as Cooperative Inquiry apostolic direction 288 The special issue of The Way Supplement in 1996 reflected on the experience of communal discernment. After what it described as a tidal wave of enthusiasm and unrealistic expecta-tions in the 1970s, it noted that "the process of group discernment now holds real possibilities for effective understanding and action."' It is in this context that I explore discernment in com-mon and introduce cooperative inquiry, a form of action ~esearch which is compatible with the kind of faith activity that discernment is and accords with how discernment in common may be conducted. The word research is associated in most peo-ple's minds with theories. Research is conducted in the world of ideas and their formulation. This model has shaped the social sciences since the 17th century. Research, on this model, examines David Coghlan SJ is a lecturer in organizafon development at Trinity College, Dublin. His address is 129 Morehampton Road; Dublin 4, Ireland. dcoghlan@tcd.ie Review for Religious an "objective" truth which exists outside of the world of the researcher and is disconnected from the action of everyday life. Research techniques are thus concerned with objective impartiality, with forms of knowledge that can be defended propositionally and so are considered to be valid and to apply universally. Social sci-ence no longer works with this model alone. When postmodern-ism began to emerge some thirty years ago, people became more aware of language, and in particular of how our experience is influ-enced as much by the language we use as by any objective reality. Others have come to regard human inquiry as seeking knowledge not simply for its own sake, but also for the enhancement of good practice in everyday life. Now, it is argued, is a time for science in action rather than just about action.2 Action research is such a science in action. Action research is research that aims at both taking action and c~'eating knowledge or ,theory about that action. What Is Action Research? As the name suggests, action research is research that aims at both taking action and creating knowledge or theory about that action. The outcomes are an action and some new knowledge, not knowledge only. In effect, action research is about creating forms of inquiry that people can use in the conduct of their lives and involves changing what we take as knowledge. It reflects a con-cern for an "action turn" to replace the linguistic turn of postmodernism.3 It has origins and roots in diverse fields: the social psychology experiments of Kurt Lewin, 66.3 2007 Coghlan ¯ Discernment in Common the pragmatic philosophy of John Dewey, the emergent field of organization development, the liberationist work of Paulo Freire, Catholic action, liberation theology, and feminist thought.4 Ignatian spirituality and action research have a lot in common, and action research contributes to spirituality research. There are some striking overlaps between motifs of Ignatian spirituality--a spirituality in which "action" is a central motif---and the features of this new pattern of thinking in the social sciences called "action research.''5 There are striking convergences between the idea of action research and Ignatian teaching about the interplay of prayer and action. The technical concepts developed by action research theory help sharpen the reflection encour-aged by Ignatian spirituality. Though the methods of the social sciences are sometimes reductive, either ignoring the religious or else translating it into other allegedly more accurate terms, the epistemology and processes of action research are quite appropriate to the knowledge born of grace and religious faith. In this vein, it can be proposed that there is an Ignatian approach to social science. It has been apparent to me for many years that Ignatius was very modern in his approach to reflexive inquiry. This article is a development of an earlier one and continues the endeavor to bring Ignatian spirituality and action research together.6 The purpose is twofold. First, I want to introduce a stream within action research prac-tice, balled cooperative inquiry, and show how it can have close links to discernment in common in the Ignatian tra-dition. Second, I wish to advance further the articulation of an Ignatian approach to social science research so that the practice of discernment in common may be given a voice as research. The contribution, therefore, is to those who undertake research in spirituality and may use action research in researching discernment in common. Review for Religiou~ One contribution that action research theory, can make to Ignatian spirituality comes from the idea that an integrative approach to research incorporates three differ-ent practices, which are called "first person," "second per-son," and "third person.''7 Ignatian first-person practice is concerned with how people find God in their own expe-rience. Ignatian sec- ~ ond-person practice focuses on people's relationships in their shared inquiry about their life together as Christians. Ignatian ~, third-person prac-tice moves beyond the direcdy personal ~ and seeks to enrich the life of the church and the world. In this article, I introduce cooperative inquiry as a form of second-person practice to link with Ignatian second-person practice of discernment in common. The knowledge born of faith and prayer (experien-tial knowing) is expressed in presentational form through our images of God, through the language of our prayers, through religious art and music. This experiential and presentational knowing is articulated in propositional form in the statements of our faith, in the creed, in how our beliefs are formulated and understood through theol-ogy. All this is expressed in practical knowing as we apply ourselves to trying to live the Christian faith. Action research, too, works with ways of knowing that go beyond the propositional form that we think of as research.8 With this brief summary of links between Ignatian spirituality and action research, I now introduce cooperative inquiry as a specific stream of expression within action research. Action, rese arch works with ways :of knowing that go beyond the propositional form , that we think Of'as research. 66.3 2007 Cogblan * Discernment in Common 292. Cooperative Inquiry9 John Heron and Peter Reason define cooperative inquiry "as involving two or more people researching a topic through their own experience of it in order to (1) understand their world to make sense of their life and develop new and creative ways of looking at things and (2) learn how to act to change things they might want to change and find out how to do things better.1° As John Heron puts it, "it is a vision of persons in reciprocal relation using the full range of their sensibilities to inquire together into any aspect of the human condi-tion with which the transparent mid-body can engage.''1~ In cooperative inquiry each person is a co-subject in the experience phases by participating in the activities being researched and a co-researcher in the reflection phases by participating in generating ideas, designing and managing the project, and drawing conclusions. Cooperative inquiry goes something like this. 1. A group agree on what they want to explore. The group may be formed specifically for this purpose. The group talk about their interests and concerns, agree on the focus of the inquiry, and develop together a set of questions or proposals the members wish to explore. As an example, Reason mentions a group of obese and post-obese women who met to explore their experience, how they were stereotyped in society, and how it was difficult for them to obtain appropriate attention from doctors. 2. The group bring actions from their everyday situ-ations into the inquiry after initiating some actions and observing and recording the outcomes of their own and each other's behavior. 3. The group members as co-researchers become fully immersed in their experience. They may go deeper into the experience, or they may be led away from the original Review for Religious ideas and proposals into new fields, unpredicted action, and creative insights. 4. After an agreed period engaged in phases two and three, the co-researchers reassemble to consider their original questions in the light of their experience. Cooperative inquiry works on iteration, or cycling through the four steps. Repetitions--perhaps between six and ten cycles on an inquiry topic--can help toward better understanding of an issue, an improved grasp of the whole issue and its parts. An important element of cooperative inquiry is that it works with the different ways of knowing we discussed earlier. In cooperative inquiry, inquiry is deeper and richer if the different ways of knowing work together, "if our knowing is grounded in our experience, expressed through our stories and images, understood through ideas which make sense to us, and expressed in worthwhile action in our lives."12 Cooperative inquiry is a way of doing research that is radically different from the traditional way. It involves people examining their own experiences and action in collaboration with others who share similar interests and concerns. The heart of the learning process is threefold.13 First, learning takes place through iterative cycles of action and reflection. Second, this learning takes place in a cooperative inquiry group of peers who provide mutual support and challenge. Third, through the process partic-ipants develop a quality of self-reflective inquiry whereby they learn to attend to their own experience and learn how to learn from experience. Heron emphasizes that there is no one account of cooperative inquiry and that his comprehensive presentation should not be construed as the account.~4 This is an important point, for it opens up the possibility of exploring discernment in common as cooperative inquiry. 293 66.3 2007 Coghlan * Discernment in Common Having presented a brief outline of action and research and a general introduction to cooperative inquiry, I now explore how cooperative inquiry and the Ignatian tradi-tion of discernment in common may be linked. To do this They held, as principle thatGod l .,. is kind and gift-giving~ndI ~ / that they should earnestly ;~ seek what God wantedoff ~hern~ .,,. ~ I focus on one partic-ular discernment in common, namely, that of the early Jesuits who met in 1539 to discern their future as a group.~s It is not my intention to focus on discernment in common as such, nor to explore its nuances and processes, nor to do a textual analysis or engage in discussions of the Deliberation's place in the development of discernment in common.~6 In this article my aim is first to introduce the Deliberation in summary form and second to see if the elements of cooperative inquiry can be found in the Deliberation. 2,94 The Deliberation of 1539 On 13 August 1534 at Monmartre in Paris, Ignatius and his six companions pronounced vows of poverty and chastity and a vow to go to Jerusalem, and then they dis-persed. In January 1537 the seven, joined by three others, met in Venice. They spent the next two years in Venice and Rome, preaching and working with the poor. This group of priests was held together by the love of Christ, dedication to apostolic work, the authority of the pope, and the leadership of Ignatius. The time came when dis-persal was imminent, for the pope planned to send them in response to requests from bishops all over Europe. The question was whether this would be the end of the group Review for Religious as a~ group or whether it would seek to establish itself more formally as a group. In 1539 the group deliberated on what it wanted to do. There was a diversity of nationalities in the group, French, Spanish, Savoyard, and Portuguese, and there was diversity of feeling and opinion. Accordingly, the first issue they dealt with was process. They held as principle that God is kind and gift-giving and that they should ear-nestly seek what God wanted of them. There were prepa-ration steps and procedure steps. During the day each man would meditate and reflect on the questions and in the evening share his thoughts with the group and in par-ticular share his reasons and judgments. The intention was that "all with one mind would embrace the truer way of thinking, tested and commended by the more powerful reasons and by majority vote" (187). The first question they confronted was whether to bond together so that geography would not separate them or to cut their ties and disperse. "In the end we estab-lished the affirmative side of the question, that., we ought not split apart what God had gathered and united" (192). The reasons were their shared history and the signs they saw of what God was doing in them. The second question was whether, along with their vows of chastity and poverty, it would "be advantageous [to] pronounce a third vow, namely, of obedience to some-one from among us" (194). This opened up the ques-tion of authority in the group and, in effect, whether the group would form a religious order or not. "Then we had persisted in prayer and thought for many days without hitting on any satisfactory resolution of our uncertainty. We. started to cast about for better ways of working out such a resolution" (195). Given the impasse they were in, would it be better for the group to go away to a hermitage and be secluded, 66.3 2007 Cogblan ¯ Discernment in Common 296 Each was to ready himself through prayer, Masses, and meditation to reach the or should they stay in the city and continue their apos-tolic ministry, or should they delegate a few to reach a conclusion on behalf of the group? They opted to stay in the city and continue their apostolic ministry and give half of every day to their deliberation. Each was to ready himself through prayer, Masses, and meditation to reach the right dispo-sitions. Second, none of the companions was to communicate with any-one else about the issue. right dispositions. Third, each was to think ' ~, ' of himself as a stranger ~ to the group and so to be more objective and not caught up in the emotions of a group member. These preparations were to enable each member to make an individual contribution to the whole process, presenting his personal view. When the group convened, it used another proce-dure, also aimed at shifting the impasse. "Each one was to declare all the disadvantages which could be brought against obedience [by vow, to one of our group], all the reasons which presented themselves, and which anyone of us had found in his own private reflections, meditation, and prayer. What he had gathered, each in his turn was to make known" (201). "On the next day we argued for the opposite side of the question, each one putting before the group all the advantages and good consequences of such obedience which he had drawn from prayer and medita-tion. Each took his own turn to present his reflections" (203). Eventually they reached their outcome. "During many days, from this side and that, we worked over a mass of Review for Religious data related to the resolution of our problem, we exam-ined and weighed the more forceful and important rea-sons and took time as usual for prayer, meditation, and reflection. By the Lord's help, we did at last, not [just] with a majority judgment but without a single dissenting voice, come to this conclusion: Obedience to one of us is highly advantageous and highly necessary in order to ful-fill more effectively and exacdy our primary desire of ful-filling God's will in all details of life, in order to preserve the Society more assuredly, and finally in order to pro-vide properly for all the detailed matters of spiritual and temporal business which arise" (205). The Deliberation took almost three months. As Jules Toner comments, the success of the more fully developed method for discern-ment was not only the reformulation of the process from the first question in order to deal with the more complex second question: it was also their establishing a method that they used on many other questions over a longer period of time (208). The Deliberation as Cooperative Inquiry Now I discuss how the Deliberation may be viewed in terms of cooperative inquiry, drawing on the four-point process that I oudined above. The first point is clear. A group had an issue that its members needed to explore together; the group met to seek where God was leading it, whether toward dispersal or formal ties between its mem-bers. While it had an informal leader of great influence in the person of Ignatius, the group met as peers. Second, it did not convene just to make a management decision but to engage in a reflective process that included each

Issue 61.2 of the Review for Religious, 2002. ; Examen .Living with God Growing Older Religious Eife Perspectives MARCH APRIL 2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER 2 Review for Relig4ous helps people respond and be faithful ~ to God's universal call to holiness by making available ~to them the spiritual legacies that flow from the charisms of CathOlic consecratea life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; 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. ©2002 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written applicatign to the Editor, Review for Religious. L VING 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 Afin Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp ~Adarmiaens G~.nadu dJoinan S. CFelling Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Bishop Carlos'A. Sevilla SJ Miriam D. Ukeritis CsJ MARCH APRIL 2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER 2 contents 118 feature Examen: Persons in Relationships Joseph A. Tetlow sJ provides new insights by focusing examen on our many personal relationships in daily life. 129 137 living with God No Rapine in the Holocaust: Eremitical Life Today Karen Karper Fredette surveys some of the different forms eremitical life has taken in a fresh flowering in church life today. Metaphysical Self in Other Mystical Traditions James J. Magee defines metaphysical self as one's self residing in God and God residing in it and then examines this term as it appears in Christian, Buddhist, Hindu, Jewish, and Muslim (Sufl) mysticism. 146 growing older Aging: Spiritually Present to the Burning Bush Geraldine M. Wodarczyk CSFN reflectively enters us into her six-year experience of living among her own congregation's aging and prayerful sisters. Review for Religious 166 Coping with Repetition: A Spirituality for Ministering to the Elderly Helen Jean Novy HM proposes some spiritual considerations to guide our responses to the repetitiousness of sick/elderly people. 169 religious ~i~e perspectives Medaille's "Means" and Religious Life's Renewal Joan Wagner ssJ focuses on six "means" derived from Father Medaille's writings that nourish religious community life. 183 The Decline of Religious Life: A Success Story Michael Dominic W. Ledoux OFM asks whether the next task for religious congregations is to let go of our hold on institutions and ministries and allow them to find a charism based upon their own stories and histories rather than being too strongly attached to religious communal stories. " 191 Membership and Leadership: An Organic Whole Beatrice M. Eichten OSF sketches out the patterns of interworking between leaders and members that enhance effective leadership in community life. flepar men s 116 Prisms 202 Canonical Counsel: Exclaustration: Further Considerations 211 Book Reviews March-April 2002 115 prisms Jesus' transfiguration was a favorite passage of the Jesuit paleontologist Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. With his own description of evo-lution progressing by crossing thresholds, he found the transfigured Jesus giving promise of crossing the threshold from being Jesus a marginal Jew to being the risen Christ Pantocrator. Whatever our response to evolutionary theory, the crossing of thresholds gives insight into words and images used to describe the mysteries of our Catholic faith. We seem to be unaware that in faith we have crossed a .threshold between commonsense language and language bursting with faith realities. For exam-ple, our scripture and prayer language in the Lenten and Easter seasons describes redemption as our being purchased at a price. Sometimes this has led to the preaching and imaging of God paying off the devil by Jesus' passion and death. So we--the human race-- were bought at the cost of Jesus' death in order to release us from the grip of the evil one. At other times, it seems that our language has seen God as being appeased or satisfied by the pain and suffering and blood shed by his Son. And we have wondered: What kind of God is this? The New Testament writers built upon the imagery of the Hebrew Scriptures and presumed a poetic under-standing of the religious world. Following Scripture and inspired by their own culture and times, theolo-gians, artists, and spiritual writers over the centuries have all contributed, with mixed results, to various ways of understanding and celebrating the central mystery of our salvation/redemption. In the United States, with R~view for Reli~o~s our sometimes sanitized religious worship removing us from devotional or emotional involvement, we still tend to slip back to a rather morbid focusing on physical pain and the shedding of blood in Lenten prayer and especially in the Holy Week triduum. Perhaps we find ourselves praying with an unhealthy fixation on pain and suffering as the way to God. We need to acknowledge that Holy Thursday has more than just a chronological precedence to Good Friday. The Eucharist is key to a solidly Christian approach to the Passion and Cross, one that is psychologically and spiritually sound and healthy. As St. Ignatius Loyola points out, Jesus' institution of the Eucharist is "the greatest mark of his love." We may be surprised that it is not Jesus' passion and death that help us to understand the Eucharist, but it is the other way around. The Eucharist shows us that Jesus holds nothing back from us in his love. He gives all that he is, sacramentally, to be the food and drink of our life, a life in the same bloodline as God. The word redeemer from its Hebrew derivation points to one taking on the obligations of blood or familial relationship. In itself redeemer does not imply pain or suffering. In the Hebrew Scriptures redeemer describes God in this familial relation to his chosen people. In Jesus we see God fulfilling the redemption of all peoples. By instituting the Eucharist, Jesus intends that the sacramental "nowness" of a blood relationship--the reality of our being adopted as God's sons and daughters--is to be celebrated in our daily living. We have the saying that "love costs." On Holy Thursday Jesus is showing sacramentally that he pays whatever it costs. That is how much he loves us and loves his Father. All our scrip-tural words about payment--ransoming us with his blood, pur-chasing us for a price, and so on--are images, sometimes confusingly used, looking towards the heartfelt truth that "love costs." But God is not paying off anyone. Jesus is not buying us back from the devil. It is the reality that "love costs." Jesus shows us the face of the God who does not count the cost to show his love. The Eucharist is our key to all the events of the Passion and Death. The key presents itself to us every time we look at the crucifix, every time we come forward for Communion. We are invited to cross a faith threshold, thereby experiencing anew God as Love and our identity as beloved. David L. Fleming SJ II7 March-April 2002 JOSEPH A. TETLOW feature Examen: Persons in Relationships You are likely to take account of your relationships with others whe'never you make the examen that St. Ignatius Loyola recommends. But why? Deep down in our own hearts, is there not plenty for God and me to do, without distractions from all sides? Actually, no, and for good reasons. The first reason comes from revelation. The human person is created in the likeness of a God who is One only and also Three Persons. This impenetra-ble mystery reveals to us that each of the Persons has identity only in and through the relations among the Three. It is in that likeness that your own "person" is modeled: you are a person only in your relationships. You will always be your mother's child and your father's offspring, always your siblings' brother or sis-ter. Moreover, it is in and through those relationships and others--teachers, neighbors, friends, even ene-mies- that you have become the person you are. To tell who Jesus of Nazareth is, Matthew begins with a genealogy. After telling about incarnation and birth, he goes right to Jesus' relationship with John the Baptist. Joseph A. Tedow SJ last wrote for us in September-October 1998. His address is Secretariate for Ignatian Spirituality; C.P. 6139; 00195 Roma Prati; Italy. Review for Religious Here is the second reason, closer to the everyday, for doing this exercise. You are always relating to your family, where per-sonhood (self) takes early shape and within which you continue to develop throughout life. You work with others, creating another set of day-to-day relationships. You may belong to a religious community, requiring you to develop a subtle lifelong set of relationships with persons whom God has chosen for you. You may belong to an apostolic team--parish, school, center, hospital, program--which requires cooper-ation and planning. All of these relation-ships require attention and prayer, since "we are all parts of one another" and together we make up the Body of Christ (Rm 12:5). As a very practical matter, this exercise might be a regular part of the prayer of those who work in apostolic partnerships. These are not simple in the church today, and a lot of "personality conflicts" disguise rather dis-orderly emotions and affects. Moreover, a lot of apostolic planning and community planning gets scuttled because of unre-flected- upon personal relationships. Teams and communities commonly blame "the process" for failed planning, when the actual problem is the relationships among the members. This examen, besides helping you know whom to thank God for, helps reveal and even heal such dysfunctional relationships. There are reasons why everyone would benefit from this special exercise. Every life today is plagued in some measure by individualism and alienation. One consequence affects the examen. Even when examining how you are getting along with others, you tend to focus on your own part in the relationship-- "How am I doing?"mand less on the other or on the relation-ship itself. This exercise challenges that focus on the self. It draws you to appreciate, for the right reasons, the people whom God has put into your life. "Each of us should think of our neighbors and help them to become stronger Christians" (see Rm 15:2). You enact individualism by thinking about yourself in isolation rather than in relationships with others. This examen asks you to look directly at the others in your life and the relationships that hold you together in Christ. Every life today is plagued in some measure by individualism and alienation. 119 March-April 2002 Tetlow * Examen Your relationships are where, and the deepest reason why, you exercise the virtues of prudence, justice, fortitude, and tem-perance and a host of others that are needed in order to love the way Jesus loves. Relationships, especially your family and community relationships but also your apostolic and job rela-tionships, are where you give in to sins of pride, covetousness, lust, envy, anger, gluttony, and sloth. If you find this hard to believe, perhaps you really need to do this exercise for a while. Here is the last and ultimate reason to use an examen specif-ically about your relationships: to make sure you are loving the way Jesus loves. Ignatius's Contemplation on Love--the more descriptive title would be "Contemplation to learn to love the way God loves"--begins with two prenotes. The first is that love "ought to manifest itself in deeds rather than in words," and the second is that love consists in constantly sharing, the lover and the beloved giving and receiving in open generosity (SpEx §231). This is how Jesus loves, always in relationship with the Other and the others. This exercise takes you directly to the issue whether you are loving as Jesus loved or are, in actu-ality, doing something else. Practicing the Exercise What is recommended here can be used as a single exercise, in which case it will require a long period of quiet time. It has been used profitably as the material for an eight-day retreat. Once you have gone through it for a while, however, you will know which parts of it to apply on a given day or occasion. You will know that sometimes you need to run through and examine all of your relationships: family, friends, work, community mem-bers, parish council, and so forth. At other times you will want to examine something that has happened, like a disagreement that left you far more unsettled than the matter deserved, or a deci-sion not to phone someone. This exercise will help you to uncover your true purposes, responses, and responsibilities. You can think about one partner or colleague; you can look at one group or committee or team. And so on. (The exercise as it is given here is divided into five sections, following its Ignatian inspiration.) First, taking time to thank God for those whom the Spirit has put into your life. A good way to do this is by making three columns Review for Religious on a sheet of paper. In the first, write some names (parent, sibling, friend, coworker), choosing those who belong to the period you are covering. If you are moving historically through your life, you would begin with parents or grandparents; if you are covering your life situation today, you would name the people with .whom you relate regularly. In the second column, across from each name, write the relationship you have with this person. You might want to add some details beyond a mere title. For instance, to "childhood friend" you might add "first date"; to parent, "died too young"; to colleague, "real partner." This assigning of titles may not be entirely simple. Choosing the appropriate title for a sibling.who is also a lifelong inti-mate friend and a business partner would take some thought--thought precisely about the relationship that you are given and choosing. Then, in the third column, for which you will need plenty of space, describe the relationship you have with this person. How has this person helped shape your self and your life, in the past or more recently? For instance, "rooted me in Christ" about a deeply religious and well-informed parent who established you in your faith. A trust-worthy friend may have told you the truth about yourself and your opinions and decisions, bringing you to know yourself before God. This step will give you grounds for a good deal of thanksgiving. Someone taught you to read and write. Someone showed you how to play your favorite sport. Someone intro-duced you to the Scripture.s. Someone challenged you to for-giveness because he or she not only hurt your feelings but did you harm. Someone may have betrayed you as Judas betrayed your Master. In this examen you probe how you relate to these people, not only how you feel about them, but especially what you have done and are doing in this relationship. In every instance your Creator and Lord is giving you an array of gen-erous gifts, sometimes surprising ones, freely and constantly, gifts for you to be thankful for. There is no gift as great as the gift of a faithful friend or lover who means only good for you. 12I March-April 2002 Tetlow ¯ Examen People know that there is, no gift as great as the gift of a faithful friend or lover who means only "good for you. So here is occasion to name the influences that such persons have had on your values and choices. You may well have adopted a friend's special perspective on the church or on parenting. You may become a member of a solid program because a friend invited you into it. You may have made a life-shaping choice under his or her influence. This point is well worth dwelling on, because through these relationships God is moment by moment creat-ing us as persons. Whom has God put into your life to give it shape? How have they shaped it? How do you relate to them? Here is the core of this exercise. Thanking God for these friends and relations will be incom-plete- and perhaps impossible--unless we consciously approve of how God is even now creating us and those we relate with. If you have an elderly parent who is still clear and keenly interested in your life, that is a great gift. An equally great gift is an elderly parent who depends entirely on you. If you have colleagues who depend on you, that is a gift. So is it when there are colleagues on whom you can depend. And sons or daughters will be their parents' sons or daughters forever, however they may be doing just now. The members of a religious community--real persons--are the living environment of each religious's living, growing, and dying. This exercise asks that you grow conscious of a reality we take so much for granted that we do not think about it at all. How often do you note that the sun rose this morning? How much do you value the water that comes from your tap? We treat our relationships rather like that. They are just there. They do not take thinking about except in special circumstances like an argument or a celebration. But every day each relation is a gift greater than today's sun, and each person given you to love and to be loved by is as indispensable to your thriving as the pure water that you drink without giving it a thought. Prayer Lord Jesus Christ, when you walked this earth you lived a family life with neighbors and friends. When you began to spread the Good News, You gathered around you seventy-two, and twelve, and three, who were precious to you, each in a special way, because Review for Religious the Spirit of Love gave them to you. Never has there been a companion better than you, a colleague more trusting and compassionate, a partner more giving and generous. Help me to know those many, those most special ones whom the Spirit of Love has given me in my life, and, with you, to thank the Father for the gift of them. Amen. Second, asking for attention, insight, and courage. Call on the Holy Spirit to let you pay attention to the others in your life. Ask to feel real interest in others, to get outside yourself and your interior concerns to see the people around you as they are. Ask to pay this attention in the way that God does, who hates nothing he has created and lets rain fall on just and unjust alike. Ask for insight into each person and into your relationship. Some are growing more important in your life, and perhaps some are growing away from you. Ask to know how. Ask the Spirit to let you see what you are looking at, and also to let you hear what you are listening to--from and about those whom the Spirit has given you. Finally, beg for the courage to see clearly and to affirm your connections to others, to feel how they have grown into your life and yourself. How have you reached out to them and perhaps risked something to know and love them? Ask boldness to assert your attachments to others, or your detachment and distanc-ing. Ask to be able to see how another or others are calling you to grow or, alternatively, how another or others are inviting you to be less authentic. Prayer Spirit of the risen Lord, who moved the Holy One to care for friends with his still-wounded hands and pierced heart, make me attentive to my friends even with my fearing toudh and wearing spirit. Open my eyes to see what gifts they really are; open my ears to hear what good they really mean to say. Brace my spirit to feel what they need me to feel. And, as you steeled the heart of Jesus while he lived misunder-stood and then betrayed, brace me now--while I find how I have fared in risking my self--to remain true to who I am ~and to be open in giving and receiving love. Amen. March-April 2002 Tetlow ¯ Examen Third, examining how relationships are doing. To begin with, stay with relationships that are going well. Simply look down the three columns you have written and note the name, relation-ship, and influence, and let yourself be contented in Christ with this love that falls into his pattern of loving. Using the columns is an effective way of examining relationships, but there are other ways. You could begin with the persons most closely related to you by blood and move out through extended family to friends. Or begin with the people you spend most of your daytime with, colleagues, coworkers, and so on. You could begin with superiors and move to those who answer to you. All of these steps could be limited to a smaller set of people if that would be useful at this time. Then come to those relationship that are not going well. Possible failures are sometimes glaring, like anger or blatantly selfish action, and sometimes quite subtle and complex. For every relationship is triune: one person, the relationship, and another person, and all three matter. Honestly and exactingly lay five templates (to be described below) over each conflicted or faltering relationship. As you con-template your relationship with each person under each tem-plate, demand an account of yourself, for failures in relationships show up in many ways and manifest many personality limitations or flaws, or simple sins. For instance, perhaps you find yourself saying negative things about an old friend's character. What has happened in this r~lationship and what is your responsibility for it? What are you doing or failing to do that damages the rela-tionship, or the mission you share with this person (or persons)? These failures or dysfunctions can be variously accounted for. One way is by looking at them under five categories (which I borrow from Roberta Gilbert's Extraordinary Relationships). The categories will help you look clearly and honestly at any fal-tering relationship. They will demand that you take your respon-sibility for what you have done, what you are doing, what you must do, to make this relationship a strong and holy one. The Templates 1. Conflict. You cannot come to agreement with another in some serious matter. You have never got- Review for Religious ten over a rancorous argument. You answer each other with "yes, but." You are losing respect for the person. You question whether you can ever work together again. Any of these suggests a relationship of conflict, which is often a hot relationship. 2. Distancing. You hold each other at arm's length. You have become very polite to each other and a lit-tle standoffish. You rarely talk about anything serious; instead, you chat. You would deal as openly and warmly with a stranger. You would simply rather not have to pay attention to this person anymore. You are uncomfortable around him or her. This is distancing, and, though it seems to suggest that you have no relationship with this person, you have--a special one. 3. Cutting Off. You stay out of each other's way. You do not communicate even when you have to convey some information. You simply do not like this per-son. Your judgment is that this person is harming the family, community, apostolate. You would like to be rid of this person. This is a cutoff, and it is an intense relationship. 4. Excessive Mutual Dependency. You depend on each other, too much or far too much. One of you makes the decisions. One of you needs the emotional support of the other, and the other needs to give it. Others see you as a pair. You are cutting others out of this relationship, emotionally or practically. This is excessive dependency--in a way, too much of a relationship. 5. Triangling. You have an issue with another and, instead of going to the other, take it to a third person. You find yourself saying things about this person, not to him or h~r, but to others. You gossip about this person. You complain about his or her shortcomings to others, never to the person. Alternatively, you passively allow others to tell you things about this person which they ought to be saying to him or her. 6. Could there be another template? You may find a March-April 2002 Tetlow ¯ Examen better term for a ~elationship in your life that is faltering, a term that clarifies for you what you are doing and might do. The Applications When you are on a team with another, you are not free to remain unrelated. The only issue is how you will choose to relate: whether well or badly, creatively or destructively, and, indeed, holily or unholily--all the more, of course, within your own family or among those who have somehow become your friends. Each of the five templates names a relationship--dysfunc-tional, but a relationship. It is crucial to accept that you are related to a person even when you cut him or her off, or are constantly arguing and debating with him or her, or when you are triangling. Humility demands--since it is truth--that you affirm your own contribution to making a relationship bad, or your cooperation in any dysfunctional relationship. Each of your relationships will have its own intensities, its own occasions, its own mixture of the apostolic, social, intel-lectual, affective, and so on. Each lays on you the light yoke of responsibility to accept the relationship as a gift from God, who is giving you freedom and the chance to love as God loves. When you find that one of the templates describes a current relationship, you will have to look into your heart more deeply to find out what is going on. At the same time, you will have to keep aware that the relationship has its own life and tempo, and that there is always "the other" or "the others." Prayer Jesus of Nazareth, my good brother, you worked with many and loved many. You loved aging laborers and the idle rich. You loved holy sisters and disrep-utable women. You worked with tax collectors and scribes. You chose partners who doubted and one who betrayed. You chose them, accounted for your choices to the Father, and stood by your friends to the end. Let me find my way in sureness and in risk, and give me courage to name those I relate to and clarity to know our shared responsibility. Help me to Review for Religious give my account to the Father and to stand by my friends to the end. Amen. Fourth, asking forgiveness for your sins and healing for those you have wounded and for yourself. "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us." This is the only condi-tion in the prayer Jesus taught. You cannot overestimate the weight of forgiving others. Yours, after all, is "the ministry of reconciliation," for you are in mission with Jesus Christ. You cannot expect forgiveness and the experience of reconciliation, except to the extent that you have forgiven and become recon-ciled with others. This is no trivial matter, and as good a reason as any to make an examen something like this one. Pray for those whom you have failed, or offended, or hurt. You need to beg the Spirit of Love to make up for your short-comings. Prayer Holy Triune God, in you, giving and taking barely differ since both are done as love. I have taken and not given. I have given what I did not mean to give and not given what I wish I had, so far, so very far, am I from loving as you love. Grant'me to be close to you in this, at least: that I forgive wholeheartedly those who wound me, as Jesus forgave those who wounded him. And then I ask that you forgive me and make up for all that I have left undone. Amen. F~h, choosing to do one thing tomorrow. You are wise to choose a single act to do, a concrete act like making a phone call (some-times the hardest thing you will do that day) or writing a note. Your discernment brings you to see how you can enact your gratitude to God for the people in your life. You take responsi-bility for your part in the relationship, not trying to redeem, but only to help the other and to bring him or her closer to Christ. You may need to focus on one person: to reconcile, to praise or thank, to enjoy being with. You may need to focus on one group of people like your family or community or colleagues. You may need to focus on yourself: to accept that God is making you a unique lover, to accept others' acceptance of you as you are; or, alternatively, y6u may need to address some habit that you see aggravates others or turns them off. Or you may I27 March-~tprll 2002 Tetlow ¯ Examen need to see that you really have entered into in a new relation-ship. Or you may need to get ready for a meeting by spending precious time really preparing for it or praying that you.do well. Finally, you may need to focus on some concrete event that is coming up: an interview, a meeting, a confrontation. Or you may need to focus on some long-term development in a relarionship--unsettling conflict, growing distance, emotional-ities-- so that you can take some concrete action. In all of these focuses, you are trying to keep Jesus' own commandment, "Love one another the way I have loved you." Prayer 0 Lord, reconciler of us to ourselves, the whole world and all rime would barely hold all the acts that love demands of us. I beg you to accept the little act that for this time is what I can and would do to learn to love like you. Amen. Annunciation Holy one, favored one, the Lord is with you. Be it bright angel's word or voices in the dark or cannonball or caress, any manner of invitation is prelude to Yes Holy ones, favored ones, the Lord is with us. Eugene Cartier Review for Religious KAREN KARPER FREDETTE No Rapine in the Holocaust: Eremitical Life Today '~e what you are called to be--a passionate seeker of God through continual prayer that allows 'no rapine in the holocaust,'" declares a woman in her seventies dwelling in a rural hermitage in Massachusetts. She emphasizes the total dedication she deems necessary for her chosen vocation--that of a hermit. This apo-dictic statement is culled from 140 responses to a ques-tionnaire sent to 600 hermits and solitaries. The survey was circulated by an international newsletter for her-mits, "Raven's Bread: Food for Those in Solitude." Replies flowed in from such diverse places as New Zealand, French Canada, the Philippines, Bavaria, Ireland, Mexico, and forty of the fifty United States. This twenty-three percent response rate is con-sidered a phenomenal return on a survey and, of itself, says something significant about eremites. Interviewing a single hermit is a rare event; taking the pulse of large enough numbers to determine trends would be an impossible task if eremites themselves were the aloof, people-hating individuals portrayed in popular literature. This survey reveals, however, that Karen Karper Fredette writes from 18065 Highway 209; Hot Springs, North Carolina 28743. 129 March-April 2002 Fredette * No Rapine in the Holocaust a lifestyle seasoned by hours of solitary prayer produces human beings distinguished by hospitality of spirit and a rare compassion. The essential hiddenness of eremiticat life is achieved by blending into one's surroundings. Recent History of Eremitism Even before Vatican Council II, a movement toward solitude and eremitical living had been noted. An historical but almost forgotten intervention at the council by Bishop Remy de Roo initiated a process that resulted in a new canon (c. 603) being written into the revised'Code of Canon Law that appeared in 1983. Bishop de Roo expressed his con-viction that the renewed vitality of the eremitical calling "indicates a special influence of the Holy Spirit, who inspires initiatives beneficial to the church and the modern world." Additionally, de Roo made the prophetic point that recognition of hermits would correct the impression that the practice of poverty, chastity, and obedience is limited to those living communal religious life. The myriad forms of hermit life reported in the recent survey prove the validity of this forecast. When an ancient vocation is recovered, old modalities often prove inadequate and new styles are fashioned. But can one devise a single expression for a call that transcends definitions of religious groups and flourishes among a devout and' occa-sionally unchurched fringe of society? What demographics, if any, can be assigned to an amorphous and largely hidden sub-culture that owns no common affiliation--nor desires any? In an effort to assess the state of eremitical life in the 21st century, the recent questionnaire invited hermits to draw their own demo-graphics. The results have been illuminating and inspiring. ¯ For some of us, a hermit may be living in the next apartment or down the street. Contrary to the caricature of hermits in their far caves, only three out of 140 reporting solitaries live in the "wilderness." A large number (31 percent) dwell in rural areas, but even more (43 percent) are to be' found in urban or Review for Religious suburban settings. Eight of those responding to the survey have chosen a site in the inner city. The essential hiddenness of eremitical life is achieved by blending into one's surroundings in such a way as,~to pass unnoticed even by one's neighbors. Many hermits abhor being singled out and so avoid any identifying sign of their inner dedication to solitude. Others, however, accepting the value of witnessing to a transcendent Reality in our midst, choose a simple habit and seek a recognized status within the church. Their countercultural stance is not militant, but rather a silent encouragement to others that a dif-ferent life is possible from that preached by an all-pervasive consumer society. When and to Whom Does the Call Come? A woman living in the southeastern United States writes: "I first heard the 'call' when I was four years old. I did not know What it meant--I only knew that it shook me to my founda-tion. I married, bore two children, and became a single mother. In my studies for clinical psychology, I discovered the works of Carl Jung. My inner life began shouting for attention. I listened. I shut down my practice, moved, got the children on their feet, and became a solitary. That was twenty years ago." A woman in the Philippines says, "Friends thought I was a fool to give up a secure full-time teaching position in a univer-sity, which sadly didn't leave me space and energy to pursue contemplative living--the one thing that gave meaning to all the rest." A married hermit living in California says, "I was a Hindu monk for five years, but the community did not support my attraction to hermit life." Ninety-eight women and forty-two men responded to the Raven's Bread survey. One-third of these are in their fifties. One-fourth are in their sixties. Only six persons responding are in their thirties. Further data confirms that most received the eremitic call later in life rather than earlier. Twenty-seven percent of those responding said they entered an eremitic lifestyle in their fifties, and twenty percent in their forties. Only eighteen percent followed the call to solitude while in their twenties or thirties. Maturity and life experience are necessary before a person 131 March-April 2002 Fredette * No Rapine in the Holocaust can launch into the rigors of solitary living, though the desire may have been planted much earlier in life. This fact of mid-life transition is an echo of the ideal life-pattern espoused by many Eastern cultures. A person joins a monastery or becomes a monk, not at the beginning of life (except for a brief training period), but only after one has fulfilled family obligations and achieved a certain financial success that one then freely leaves behind. The initial results from the survey indicate that in the Western world the call to solitude replicates this wise rhythm. Good physical health and fitness are the norm among solitary dwellers. Forty-seven percent describe their health as "good," and thirty-eight percent claim "excellent" health. Mental and emotional stability radiate from the responses to the reflec-tion questions that accompanied the survey. For example, a Catholic priest in his fifties writes from an urban hermitage in California: "The grace and essence of solitary living is the abil-ity to live in and be continually conscious of the Presence of God, to become more aware of who one is, to become enlight-ened to see more and more with the vision of God, to struggle to live the compassion of God, to grow in serenity and peace-- in a word, to live the freedom of the children of God." Religious Affiliation and Status The largest number of respondents (92 of 140) are Roman Catholic, but the Anglican, Episcopal, Lutheran, and Baptist churches are also represented. Among the respondents we also find persons from the Society of Friends and Orthodox churches and from various Eastern mystical traditions as well. Of the Christian denominations, Catholicism has the most hermit-friendly atmosphere, but even here eremites frequently mention lack of support and outright discouragement of their aspirations. Of the ninety-two Catholic respondents, only seventeen had been recognized as hermits under canon 603; an additional six had professed a state of consecrated virginity under canon 604. The obstacle to canonical recognition most frequently cited by respondents was the indifference of bishops. Many local ordi-naries were suspicious and expressed unwillingness to allow per-sons to pursue church-sanctioned hermit life in their dioceses. Review for Religious In the United States, only three dioceses are reported in this sur-vey to have more than one hermit living according to canon 603. A woman living in an inner-city neighborhood in England says: "The one and only meeting I had with my present bishop (a Benedictine monk) lasted only a few minutes. I had pressured him into giving me an appointment and had waited eight months to see him. I asked if he would help me become publicly pro-fessed, and he said no. That was it, a monosyllable, no expla-nation, no hesitation, no interest, no concern. I had been living as a hermit for twelve years at that time." Sheila Richardson, who is working on her master's degree in canon law at the University of St. Paul in Ottawa, inquires pointedly: "Are bishops aware of canon 605? This canon requires diocesan bishops to strive to discern new gifts of consecrated life, assist promoters of such lifestyles, and protect these new forms by appropriate statutes." Eremitical life is flourishing without much active support from the establishment. This may well be a blessing, allowing persons seeking to live as hermits or solitaries freedom to devise the form of life that best expresses their aspirations without concern about standards only a select few can meet. Exploring the various categories of individuals who choose a predominantly solitary life, we find 67 single lay persons, 24 married people, 38 members of religious congregations, and 15 ordained ministers, male and female, from six different denominations. Catholic priests who are living as hermits often exercise a limited ministry among people living nearby. They have the permission of their local ordinaries to live in retirement from most of the demands of pastoral ministry and devote the larger portion of their time to the "works" of eremitical life in solitude. Others have established a rhythm of part-time ministry with a certain number of days each week spent in solitude. Another priest is searching: "I am now at the point of decision. I am looking for a hermit-loving bishop where I might support myself by celebrating weekend Masses and confessions, perhaps in some priestless parish. Beyond that, I would be free to live in my own cabin following my own hermit schedule." Being a member of a religious community, whether active or contemplative, does not guarantee understanding of or support March-April 2002 Fredette * No Rapine in the Holocaust for an eremitic calling--something which, incidentally, may arise after a person has faithfully pursued religious life for many years. Thirty-seven of the hermits responding to the survey are still members of religious congregations. But, of the laypersons now living as hermits, sixty percent were members of a religious con-gregation at an earlier stage in their journey. Half of the former religious women claim they left their community so they could follow their attraction to solitude. Many said they were deeply grieved by this "necessity" of departure. Only two of the male religious say that their reason for severing connections with their religious order was in order to pursue solitary life. In other words, twenty-five percent of the men who left religious life did so because they were unable to live solitary life within their com-munities; fifty percent of the women left for the same reason. The most surprising category to surface from an analysis of survey responses is that of married hermit. Strictly speaking, this is a contradiction in terms and one that is hard to justify. But, for those who so identify themselves, the vocation is real and valid. Of the twenty-three respondents who are married, not all claimed to be hermits, but more than half did so. In an effort to understand this phenomenon, the following question was posed: "If you are married and are attracted to solitude, how do you work this out with your spouse?" In reply a woman in Arizona said: "The working out of mar-riage and solitude contains., every contradiction that one can experience in making oneself vulnerable in love to God and the unfolding of God's call in another. Two people can be authen-tically called to solitude and to solitude with each other, but the expressions of it can be so very different. The sharing of phys'ical space has been of great pragmatic concern for us recently--how to arrange our home so it can facilitate simplic-ity of life, prayer, and solitude." A man in Connecticut said: "I decided to separate my own liturgy commitments from my marriage by rising each morning at three for my prayer schedule. Also, I go to bed a little before my spouse to be alone once more in prayer." A woman married to a permanent deacon said: "He shares my attraction to silence and solitude although his ministry is pastoral and mine is mainly prayer. Our small country parish requires very little contact with the people for me. I work qui- Review for Relig4ous etly and prayerfully in the background while he ministers to the people. Everyone seems to understand and accept this arrangement." A woman frankly confesses: "It [attraction to solitude] cre-ated great problems. The marriage ended because we could not work it out. We remained friends." Daily Lifestyles, Daily Problems One hundred and one of the 140 respondents to the sur-vey describe themselves as living alone with significant periods of solitude and prayer. Forty-four of these have a written sched-ule incorporating prayer, work, reading, and relaxation. Eighty-seven of the 140 respondents live an informal mix of these elements. Some of these noted that they had begun with a written schedule that gradually became a more flexible routine. Seventy-eight of the 140 re-spondents pray with others one or more times a week. The most frequent prayer-form cited was meditation. Almost ninety percent find daily periods of meditative prayer a necessity. Nearly as many include Eucharistic Liturgy as part of their daily or weekly prayer routine. Most respondents find special periods of retreat important. Almost half arrange for an "annual r~treat; some manage monthly or even weekly periods of retreat. Penitential practices preferred are fasting and vigils. Almsgiving is important, with forty-three percent giving either in cash or in kind. Thirty-six eremites have made public profession of the evan-gelical counsels. Thirty-eight have committed themselves pri-vately, their vows or promises witnessed by a church-related person. Almost all respondents (103) value spiritual direction, though many said that finding a spiritual guide has been diffi-cult. Forty-seven hermits function as spiritual guides for others. One hundred and one of the 140 respondents to the survey describe themselves as living alone with significant periods of solitude and prayer. 135 March-April 2002 Fredette ¯ No Rapine in the Holocaust The survey listed six areas that could prove problematic for eremites: housing, income, spiritual guidance, relationships with church representatives, physical health, and personal fears and insecurities. The most frequently cited problem is difficulties with church representatives; the next, finding adequate spiri-tual guidance. The expected difficulties of locating a suitable site and generating enough income had proved less trouble-some. In this third millennium of Christianity, eremitical life is experiencing a fresh flowering, with new blooms appearing on the ancient vine. Butthe essence remains the same: "For me, the grace of solitary living is Emptiness," a married hermit member of an oblate Benedictine community states categorically. "No rapine in the holocaust" continues to be the stark demand of solitary life. Lake's Edge At night I hear the motion of the lake. It sighs to its own heart. Foam frosts the weight of wetness flung toward the house where my light burns. I am waiting for the wind to bring the message that I long for, the meaning of breath and motion, and who it is that sends waves pulsing toward this empty shore. Kate Martin OSC Review for Religious JAMES J. MAGEE Metaphysical Self in Other Mystical Traditions Ion an article in this journal (1994), I examined the devel-pment of metaphysical self in the writings of eight Christian mystics, concluding with Thomas Merton's definition (1966, p. 180) referring to "the depths of people's hearts where neither sin nor desire nor self-knowledge can reach, the core of their reality, the person that each one is in God's eyes." In short, metaphysical self is the term for one's self residing in God and God residing in it. Respondents to the article took the occa- ¯ sion to point out that metaphysical se/fappears also in the writ-ings of mystics from other religious traditions and recommended that I enlarge the presentation by incorporating some of them. Since these correspondents were women religious more famil-iar than I with these various mystical traditions, I asked them to participate in a monthly online chat room to examine meta-physical self as it appears in Buddhist, Christian, Hindu, Jewish, and Muslim (Sufi) mysticism. Our group of nine has met for the past five years, and this article presents some of the riches these mystical traditions brought to our understanding of meta-physical self. Each month we decided upon two primary sources we would examine in common, one Christian and one from another James J. Magee has written nine articles for our journal, the last in 1994. He is professor of counseling and gerontology at College of New Rochelle; New Rochelle, New York 10805. March-April 2002 tradition. In addition, each of us read the historical and con-textuai introductions preceding the texts or a monograph explaining their specific themes and imagery. At the conclusion of this article is a bibliography of the sources that we found particularly fruitful. Each tradition has its own style, some directly didactic and others more metaphorical. Each elabo-rates upon metaphysical self with novel, arresting paradoxes and engaging imagery that invigorated our familiarity with our own Christian mystics. Each, too, emphasizes the following components of metfiphysical self: the relational, nondualistic rootedness of self in God; transcendent individuality; engaged detachment as an expression of metaphysical self. Throughout this endeavor we dealt with paradoxes and found the most exhil-arating paradox in the power of other traditions to confirm our Christocentric perspective. Residing in God's Unconditional Acceptance This brief sampling of Christian mystics illustrates the con-tinuing emphasis they placed on the-self-residing-in-God: From Meister Eckhart: The soul is so completely one with God that the one cannot be understood without the other. One can think heat easily enough without fire and the shining with-out the sun, but God cannot be understood without the soul nor the soul without God, so utterly are they one. (p. 309) It is God's pleasure and rapture to discover iden-tity, because he can always put his whole nature into it--for he is this identity itself. (p. 167) From Julian of Norwich: Our soul sits in God in true rest, and our soul stands in God in sure strength, and our soul is naturally rooted in God in endless love. (p. 188) Between God and our soul there is neither wrath nor forgiveness. For our soul is so wholly united to God that nothing can interpose . Though we find in ourselves anger, contention, and strife, still we are all mercifully enclosed in God's mildness and meekness. (p. 189) Review for Religious From Catherine of Genoa: My being is God;. my me is God. (W'ilber, p. 72) From Thomas Merton: We know God insofar as we become aware of ourselves as known through and through by him. We "possess" him in proportion as we realize ourselves to be pos-sessed by him in the utmost depths of our being . Our knowledge of God is paradoxically a knowledge not of him as the object of our scrutiny, but of our-selves as utterly dependent on his saving and merciful knowledge of us. (1969, pp. 103-104) Note how this same emphasis appears in the following excerpts from Jewish and Muslim mystics: From the Maggid of Mezhirech: Man's essence is only the soul that is within him, which is a portion of God above. Thus, there is nothing in the entire world except the Holy One. (Uffenheimer) From the Kabbalah: There is nothing that is not pervaded by the power of divinity. God is everything that exists, though every-thing that exists is not God .Nothing is devoid of its divinity. (Matt, 1995) From Rumi: Remember God so much that you are forg9tten, until you are lost in the Call, without distinction of caller and called. (Breton and Largent, p. 23). You are my face. No wonder I can't see you. (Breton and Largent, p. 168) From 'Abd Allah Ansari (Kwaja 'Abdullah Ansari): One went to the door of the Beloved and knocked. A voice asked, "Who is there?" He answered, "It is I." The voice said, "There is no room for Me and Thee." The door was shut. Mter a year of sOlitude and depri-vation, he returned and knocked. A voice from within asked, "Who is there?" The man said, "It is Thee." The door was opened for him. (p. 94) O God, I possess that mirror in which you are reflected. Rather, I am that mirror. You are not sepa-rate from me. (p. 196) From Fakhruddin 'Iraqi: 139 MarchoApril 2002 The EternalOcean spews forth new waves. "Waves" we call them, but there is only. the Sea. (p. 77) From Ibn Al'Arabi: As in the case of a mirror and the beholder, he sees the form in it, but does not see the mirror itself. In your seeing your true self, He is your mirror and you are His mirror in which He sees nothing other than Himself. (p. 65) Through the intimate imagery and ecstatic directness that pervade these writings, the mystics of three monotheistic traditions seem to strain the point that, while human beings par-ticipate in the divine nature, they never become the essence of God. Their mystical reach, on the other hand, does touch upon that mystery which "no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love Him" (1 Co 2:9). The mystics intuit that persons are not dualistically separated from God, but "closely united with God in a love that is always moving toward oneness" (Johnston, p. 124). Transcending Individuality The Christian Scriptures address a second characteristic, the quality of relationships that proceed from metaphysical self. This characteristic also reappears in the mystical literature of other traditions, and our group members were able to find these paraphrases about metaphysical self-transcending indi-viduality: "Love is not self-seeking; it is not prone to anger; neither does it brood over injuries" (1 Co 13:5) becomes, in Rumi, the Sufi mystic, "Love has no calculating in itT' (Breton and Largent, p. 9) "Thanks be to God, who unfailingly leads us on in Christ's triumphal train, and employs us to diffuse the fragrance of his knowledge everywhere" (2 Co 2:14) occurs in Rtimi as "Vv~hether they know You or not, all creatures bend but toward You. M1 love for some-one else is but a whiff of Your perfume." (Breton and Largent, p. 141) "For I was hungry and you gave me food; I was thirsty and you gave me drink" (Mt 25, 35) appears; Review for Religious in the Bhagavad Gita, as "Any offering--a leaf, a flower, or a fruit, a cup of water--I will accept it if given with a loving heart." (Mitchell, 2000, p. 118) "Let us profess the truth in love" (Eph 4:15) is, in the Bhagavad Gita, "Speak the truth with kindness, honesty that causes no pain." (Mitchell, 2000, p. 178) These mystical sources echo the scriptural message that in human beings metaphysical self is inherently relational. Each of us is a seat of consciousness and an experiencing agent with-out being independent of others. Aitken and Steindl-Rast go so far as to say: "Underlying 'Love thy neighbor as thyself' has to be the experience that the other is no other than myself" (p. 113). Engaged Detachment During our years of meetings, members recognized a third characteristic, engaged detachment, as the way metaphysical self conducts itself in the world. This oxymoron refers to the readiness to invest ourselves in causes, tasks, and relationships while remaining ready to foi'go achieving our goals. It focuses upon process, both the deservingness of the activity at hand and the affirmation that we shall die unfinished, our potential only partly realized, and that completion is ultimately God's work and not our own. The different traditions of mystical writings repeatedly express this theme: From Julian of Norwich: God does not want his servants to despair because they fall often and grievously; for our falling does not hin-der him in loving us. (p. 188) From Paul Tillich: You are accepted, accepted by that which is greater than you . Do not seek for anything; do not intend anything. (Church, p. 180) From Anthony de Mello: There is no clinging to a classical symphony and no hastening it. One does not wait till the end to enjoy . it, but takes in every note, every chord as it comes and lets it go to welcome the next uninterrupted flow. Any attempt to stop the performance, any "attachment" to 14! March-April 2002 Nlagee ¯ Metaphysical Self a single note, will ruin the symphony. (p. 164) From the Tao Te Ching: A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent upon arriving. (Mitchell, 1988, p. 27) The Tao gives birth to all beings, creating without possessing, acting without expecting, guiding without interfering. (Welch, p. 41) From the Bhagavad Gita: With no desire for success, no anxiety about failure, indifferent to results, surrendering all thoughts of out-come, unperturbed, he does nothing at all, even when fully engaged in actions. There is nothing that he expects. (Mitchell, 2000, p. 75) From Fakhruddin 'Iraqi: Give up desire. Think that whatever you get is what you want, and in this acceptance find ease and joy. Renounce desire a hundred times. (p. 114) Engaged detachment, like the other characteristics of meta-physical self, is paradoxical. It invites a response of passive atten-tiveness wisely expressed in this admonition from the poet Rainer Maria Rilke: Be patient toward all that is unresolved in your heart. . Try to love the contradictions themselves. Do not now seek resolutions, which cannot be given because you would not be able to live them, and the point is to live everything. Live the contradictions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the resolutions. (p. 97) Imagery, Paradox, Complementarity, Love The imagery, metaphors, and paradoxes which other mys-tical traditions use to illuminate the nature of mystical se/famplify and complement the attention Christian mystics center upon on this theme. The artfulness of these other sources can help sustain us both in the apophatic ~loud through which Christian mystics typically view mystical self and in the relaxed tena-ciousness of our commitment to love others as ourselves. Review for Religious References 'Abd Allah Ansari, 1978. Intimate conversations. New York: Paulist Press. Aitken, R., and D. Steindl-Rast. 1996. The ground we share. Boston: Shambala. Breton, D., and C. Largent. 1998. Love, soul, and freedom: Dancing with Rumi on the mystical path. Center City, Minn.: Hazelden. Church, E 1987. The essential Tillich. New York: Macmillan. de Mello, A. 1992. One minute nonsense. Chicago: Loyola University Press. Fakhruddin 'Iraqi. 1982. Divine flashes. New York: Paulist Press. Ibn Al'Arabi. 1980. The bezels of wisdom. New York: Paulist Press. Johnston, W. 2000. "Arise, my love . . .": Mysticism for a new era. Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books. Julian of Norwich. 1978. Showings. New York: Paulist Press. Magee, J. 1994. "Shame, mystical writers, and a spirituality of self." Review for Religious 53, no. 5 (September-October): 746-752. Matt, D. 1995. The essential Kabbalah. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, p. 25. Meister Eckhart. 1986. Meister Eckhart: Teacher and preacher, ed. B. McGinn. New York: Paulist Press. Merton, T. 1966. Conjectures of a guilty bystander. New York: Doubleday. Merton, T. 1969. Contemplative prayer. New York: Herder and Herder. Mitchell, S. 1988. Tao te ching. New York: Harper and Row. Mitchell, S. 2000. Bhagavadgita. New York: Harmony Books. Rilke, R. 1978. When silence reigns: Selected prose. New York: New Directions. Uffenheimer, R. 1993. Hasidism as mysticism. Princeton: Princeton University Press, p. 74. Welch, H. 1966. Taoism: The parting of the way. Boston: Beacon. Wilber, K. 1983. Up from Eden. Boulder, Colo.: Shambala. Bibliography of Easily Accessible Sources Sources in Christian mysticism appear in the series Classics of Western Spirituality (Paulist Press). Sources for Buddhist and Taoist mysticism Da Liu. 1986. Tai chi ch'uan and meditation. New York: Schocken Books. Deng Ming-Dao. 1990. Scholar warrior: An introduction to the tao in everyday life. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco. 143 March-April 2002 Magee ¯ Metaphysical Self Kohn, L. 1993. The taoist experience: An anthology. Albany: State University of New York Press. Merton, T. 1968. Zen and the birds of appetite. New York: New Directions. Mitchell, S. 1988. Tao te ching. New York: Harper and Row. Reps, P. 1957. Zen flesh, Zen bones: A collection of Zen and pre-Zen writ-ings. Rutland, Vermont: C.E. Turtle. Thich Nhat Hanh. 1987. The miracle of mindfulness: A manual on med-itation. Boston: Beacon. Watson, B. 1968. The complete works of Chuang Tzu. New York: Columbia University Press. Wei, H. 1987. The authentic I Ching. North Hollywood, Calif.: Newcastle. Sources for Hindu mysticism Dehejia, V. 1994. The legend of Rama: Artistic visions. Bombay: Marg Publications. Heehs, P. 1998. The essential writings of Sri Aurobindo. New York: Oxford University Press. Jack, H. 1989. The Gandhi Reader. New York: Grove Press. Krishnamurti, J. 1994. On conflict. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco. Mitchell, S. 2000. Bhagavadgita. New York. Harmony Books. Ramakrishna Vedanta Centre. 1972. Women saints of East and West. London: Ramakrishna Vedanta Centre. Shukla, S. 1999. The Upanishads. Fremont, Calif.: Asian Humanities Press. Sivaraman, K. 1989. Hindu spirituality. New York: Crossroad. Vetter, H. 1997. The heart of God: Prayers of Rabindranath Tagore. Boston: C.E. Tuttle. Sources for Islamic mysticism 'Abd Allah Ansari. 1978. Intimate conversations. New York: Paulist Press. Breton, D., and C. Largent, C. 1998. Love, soul, and freedom: Dancing with Rumi on the mystic path. Center City, Minn.: Hazelden. Chittick, W.C. 1983. The Sufi path of love: The spiritual teachings of Rumi. Albany: State University of New York Press. Ernst, C. 1984. Words of ecstasy in Sufism. Albany: State University of New York Press. Fakhruddin 'Iraqi. 1982. Divine flashes. New York: Paulist Press. Ibn Al'Arabi. 1980. The bezels of wisdom. New York: Paulist Press. Review for Religious Ibn A1-Sabbagh. 1996. Mystical teachings of Al-Shadhili. Chicago: Kazi Publications. Ibn 'Ata' Illah. 1978, The book of wisdom. New York: Paulist Press. Massignon, L. 1982. The passion of A1-Hallaj, mystic and martyr of Islam. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Schimmel, A. 1987. As through a veik Mystical poetry in Islam. New York: Columbia University Press. Sharafuddin Maneni. 1980. The hundred letters. New York: Paulist Press. Sources for Jewish mysticism Ben Joseph, A. 1987. Book of formation (Sepheryetzirah). San Francisco: Holmes. Ben Zion, R. 1984. Anthology of Jewish mysticism. Brooklyn, N.Y.: Judaica Press. Cohn-Sherbok, D. 1995. Jewish mysticism: An anthology. Rockport, Mass.: Oneworld. Jacobs, L. 1997. Schocken book of Jewish mystical testimonies. New York: Schocken Books. Kamenetz, R. 1998. Stalking Elijah: Adventures with today's Jewish mys-tical masters. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco. Kook, A. 1978. The lights of penitence, New York: Paulist Press. Matt, D. 1983. Zohar: The book of enlightenment. New York: Paulist Press. Matt, D. 1995. The essential Kabbalah: The heart of Jewish mysticism. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco. Nahman of Bratslav. 1980. The tales. New York: Paulist Press. Scholem, G. 1995. Major trends in Jewish mysticism. New York: Schocken Books. NEW ON OUR WEBSITE Searchable indexes of Review for Religious articles from January 1970 to the current issue Abstracts of the lead articles of the January 1997 isshe to the current issue and summaries of the others Complete text of A Spirituality for Contemporary Life: The Jesuit Heritage Today edited by David Fleming SJ and containing articles by J.J. Mueller SJ, Walter Burghardt SJ, David Fleming SJ, Monika K. Hellwig, Jon Sobrino SJ, Elizabeth Johnson csJ, and John W. Padberg SJ www.reviewforreligious.org -4 45 larch-, Jpril 2002 GERALDINE M. WODARCZYK Aging: Spiritually Present to the Burning Bush growing older For months now I have written multiple reflections on aging. They are connected with a book by Jane Marie Thibault2 She says that in later life people are invited to contemplation and that there should be contem-plative communities for the elderly. My congregation is 127 year old, and I have lived among aging and prayerful sisters for decades. I sought to formulate a theology of aging based on the spirituality of our foundress, Frances Siedliska. But, in spite of a wealth of material, no formulation presented itself. And so, with encouragement from Sister Judith Nero OSB, my local mentor for the gerontological program, I decided on a different focus, simply writing about my ministry experiences at Holy Family Manor. What are those experiences, and what are they calling me to in my own life? Perhaps, like Moses, I have discovered a "burning bush" and here, on holy ground, I learn of God. Geraldine M, Wodarczyk CSFN wrote this paper originally in a gerontological pastoral care program at Luther Seminary in St. Paul, Minnesota. Her address is Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth; 285 Bellevue Road; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15229. Review for Religious Years ago Sister Mary Paul Krasowski gave me a copy of a poem by an unknown author: The Moses in my heart trembles not quite willing to accept the prophet hidden in my being wondering how much it will cost to allow the prophet to emerge. O child of unnecessary shoes cast them off and stand in readiness on this awfully holy ground! For the Egypt in people's hearts demands that you see the burning bushes all around you aflame and burning wildly calling you forth away from the comfort of well-protected feet. The ground you stand on is holy! Take off your shoes believe in your Moses and go. Sister Mary Paul gave.me a copy a second time, when I was the superior at the Manor, my "holy ground" for the past six years. I realized that during this time I had been called to accept the prophet in me, and in others, as we search for God in our every-day realities. I have seen the Egypt in the hearts of sisters and heard their cry for freedom sung in many ways. Within the evening solitude that these days provided me, I discovered the Egypt within my own heart and heard a call to let go of false securities of my own and to find new freedoms within me. I have been present to "burning bushes" of experience with seasoned older sisters. In ways I never expected, God touched my life and called me from the comfort zone where I was six years before. 147 March-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Aging With Fear and Trepidation In 1990, when first asked to consider being superior of the Manor, I flatly refused. I was already superior of a small convent of four sisters. I was engaged in full-time ministry as the province councilor for formation, and together with my brother, who was just beginning a family in Wisconsin, I was sharing long-distance care of our widowed father in Erie, Pennsylvania, who was steadily moving to a new stage of frailty in his life. These were the reasons I gave my provincial, but another rea-son was that I had never been present at anyone's death. Terrified, I could not imagine living where I would need to be present to sisters as they died. Time passed. In 1993 our father's condition became worse. When notified, I knew the seriousness of Dad's condition, but did not realize that, with the physician, my brother and I would be making decisions that Dad was not able to make about his failing life. As Divine Providence would have it, I was in Erie when decisions about the breathing and cardiac machines needed to be made, and I was present during Dad's last hours and death. I learned that a broken heart is a real experience. I was changed, and so in 1994, when a new provincial asked me about being superior of Holy Family Manor, I said I would be willing. The provincial was taking seriously the choice of the superior. First, after asking the sisters living in the Manor for suggestions and reviewing the list, she and her council had three sisters come to a mandatory day of reflection in a small cottage on our motherhouse grounds. Our retirement home had sixty-nine beds and sixty-six sisters at various stages of aging. The retreat director, Sister Ann Winschel CDP, invited us to consider our gifts and what might be our stumbling blocks in accepting the ministry. I went to my room in the cottage and prayed with open hands, letting God put there what I needed and giving God the freedom to take away any drawbacks to my willingness to accept this ministry. For most people, praying with open hands is a simple gesture, but for me--with hands affected by rheumatoid arthritis--the gesture spoke of my own human brokenness. Could God really want me, already a broken vessel, to shep-herd these senior religious in their last days? At the end of the retreat, after sharing our personal reflec- tions, we were asked to express our final decision in a letter to the provincial. I wrote of openness to the ministry, my aware-ness of my gifts in working with the elderly, and my recognition that I could use them only in the context of my own brokenness. I qualified my openness by saying that, if I had an incapacitating flare-up of the arthritis, I would take it as an indication that this service was not appropriate for me. Three months later my provincial telephoned me, saying that the council had unani-mously chosen me the next Manor superior. She wanted me to take some preparation time with the current superior, attend the upcoming American Society of Aging conference, and offi-cially begin on the first of May. On Sunday, 30 April 1995, in the early afternoon, I arrived at the Manor. I was scheduled to be in the chapel for a wel-coming prayer and commitment service at four o'clock. The previous superior had already left. Three sisters were waiting for me at the door, welcoming me with one breath and asking with another, "You will take us to the festival at Mr.Assisi, won't you?" Barely gathering my belongings from the auto-mobile and putting them in my room, I welcomed the excur-sion (a five-minute trip) to the Franciscan sisters' festival. Though a busy place, it was a respite where I could amble with-out any focus on the fears and anticipation that were part of me at this transition moment. We returned home and soon four o'clock came. In the presence of the retired sisters, the provincial asked me several questions: Will you accept this responsibility [to be local leader] which the sisters have confided in you? Do you promise to serve the sisters in kindness, compassion, and charity, in the spirit of our blessed foundress, Frances Siedliska? Will you strive to be faithful to the Covenant of Love [our constitutions] and the directives of your general and provincial superiors? Responding affirmatively, I was given a bouquet of roses by the provincial and was told: "Your ministry as servant leader will be a mixed blessing. Both joy and sorrow, possibility and I could not imagine living where I would need to be present to sisters as they died. !49 ~¥larch-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Aging impossibility, success and failure will accompany you. These roses, themselves offering both beauty and pain, are given to you with our gratitude for accepting this mission." After the sisters voiced their support, I recited the following: As I approach this ministry of servant leadership, I pray: Hollow out in me, O God, a space in which I will find myself, find peace and a whole heart, a for-giving spirit and holiness, springs of laughter, and the will to reach boldly for abundant life for myself, this local community, and the whole human family. Grant me your peace, instill in me such awe of you as will make me wise, and such quiet courage as will enable me to make hope visible, forgiving delight-ful, loving contagious, faith liberating, and peace-mak-ing joyful. Shape my weakness into compassion and help me to make myself open and present to my sisters, to oth-ers, and to your kingdom. Amen.2 And so I began my sojourn as the convent superior of our retire-ment community. Except for my Franciscan festival invitation, my first encounter with one of the sisters came that evening, when Sister Maura3 told me, "On behalf of the entire community here at Holy Family Manor, .I want to tell you it is too cold in this build-ing." "Temperatures!" I thought; "after that profoundly religious service, I am supposed to adjust thermostats!" And so it was-- God was inviting me to listen to the concerns of everyday life, the little things that are so important in these sisters' lives. The Power of the Word The next morning I had an announcement to make in the first-floor dining room, where forty sisters sat. Besides some trembling, my voice did not carry well, especially for the good number with impaired hearing. Finally I got the message across. Shortly thereafter, a sister from the second-floor dining area came complaining that I did not give the sisters there any message. What was I to do? The next day I typed out some items of common interest and posted them in the elevator, Review for Religious thereby causing traffic jams. Sisters would ride up and down until they finished reading the note. I realized that we needed copies of the newsletter posted in various places, including the elevator. This simple arrangement, providing this large num-ber of sisters direction for the coming day, also informed them about what was happening in our home. Was this communication episode a "burning bush" in which I found God? At least I learned how impoytant the communi-cated word is to people, and that it could promote love and caring in this household. It calmed the fears of the sisters who wondered about who was in the house: other sisters, guests, contractors, maintenance work-ers. The daily newsletter included a prayer request list and kept the sisters informed about the health progress of the sisters in the hos-pital. The newsletter invited the sisters to share a joke as well as to request prayer for themselves I learned how important the communicated word is to people, and that it could promote love and caring. or others. It became their newsletter. It provided a source of unity and dismantled some rumors that institutions readily give rise to. It hung for twenty-four hours at eight places in the building. Each of us had plenty of time to return to it to get the news of the day. There is a power in the written word. It is a way love can be communicated. Isn't the Word the way God communicates the greatness of Divine Love? And did the Word not become incarnate in the most simple and humble way? Perhaps in some small way the newsletter really was a "burning bush." The Joy of the Resurrection After living a short while in the Manor, I noticed a heavi-ness- sadness in the sisters' demeanor, depressive postures; even the daily Masses were in remembrance of the deceased. Although all the bedrooms are quite alike, some were considered "dying rooms," and sisters shuddered at the thought of being placed there. March-April 2002 V~odarczyk * Aging When I arrived at the Manor in the midst of spring, I was still flesh with the message of the Easter season's life-giving liturgical readings. One reading kept coming back to me, the one about the women returning to the tomb who were asked, "Why do 3iou search for the Living One among the dead?" (Lk 24:5). One day these words, stirring in my h.eart, became reversed. I heard, "Why do you search for the dead among the living?" Something changed within me, and I realized how alive, even with some physical limitations, these sisters were. I knew that I needed to foster that life of theirs. I knew that I should help them help each other to build a happy life within this retirement community. By Pentecost I looked for the evi-dence of the Spirit as we tried new things and reviewed old practices. What brought the gifts of "love, joy, peace, patient endurance, kindness, generosity, faith, mildness" (Ga 5:22-23) that Paul spoke about? The things that brought such results to the majority of the community would be fostering and increas-ing in the sisters the new life of Easter. How else does God speak to us and affirm our actions except by the gifts of the Holy Spirit? In late May 91-year-old Sister Ellen was rushed to the hos-. pital in excruciating abdominal pain. "A perforated bowel," the doctor told me and asked, "What do you want me to do? I don't think that Sister could survive the surgery." Asking Sister, who was fully conscious, was to me the obvious thing to do. The doctor explained the options: surgery or palliative care. Sister Ellen looked at me with the most trusting eyes. "You are my superior," she said. "Whatever you decide will be God's will for me." I could not believe my ears, nor was I prepared for this responsibility she placed on me. She remained adamant. "I trust that your decision is God's will for me." I had not been reared in religious life with that degree of surrender put into a supe-rior's hands. Mine was a formation toward dialogue, toward coming to a mutual decision. She, however, simply continued to insist. From her primary-care physician, I learned that Sister Ellen had specifically said a few weeks earlier that she never wanted another surgery. When I managed to contact our provin-cial superior, who was traveling in Europe, she concurred with the decision for palliative care. Review for Religious I remain humbled by the trust Sister Ellen placed in me. I learned that being an instrument of God in these sisters' lives is something very serious indeed. I learned of my own need for prayer and intimacy with a God who, though transcendent, is immanently present to us and our decisions. Second Floor: 0 God, Are You There? A visitor to our Manor told me happily that her little boy would be three years old in a couple of weeks. On hearing that, he began to cry, "I don't want to be three, Mommy." Holding her tearful child, she said to me: "When he turns three he has to go to the next room in the day care. He doesn't want to take that step." It can be like that with the elderly, too. In conversations with oth-ers who deal with the elderly, I have found that there is always some place where res-idents do not want to go. It may be called the A wing or Mary's Corridor or something sim-ilar. In our convent it is simply called "the second floor." It is where those needing the most care live. Agreeing to live on the second floor is, for some of us, accepting death--even though, in reality, it may be years away. When I came to the Manor, the frailest sisters on the sec-ond floor would sit or recline in geri-chairs in a semicircle in what was called the solarium. These sisters were clean and well kept, but some would randomly yell out a prayer, a request, a humorous remark, or something incoherent. When people passed by Sister Lynnette--her parochial school teaching over and end-stage Alzheimer's drawing near--she would insist, "Line up for the fire drill, without talking!" If you did not do so, your misbehavior called for discipline. Although humorous, these moments were also sad, for Sister Lynnette had been such an excellent teacher. Many sisters shied away from the second floor, and espe-cially the solarium, where these frail sisters spent long days, I have found that there is always some place where residents do not want to go. March-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Agigg still as icons. This comparison struck me as I read some words of Henri Nouwen: Icons are not easy to "see." They do not immediately speak [appeal] to our senses . They do not reveal themselves to us at first sight. It is only gradually, after a patient, prayerful presence, that they start speaking to us. And, as they speak, they speak more to our inner than to our outer sense. They speak to the heart that searches for God.4 The frailest sisters on the second floor "do not reveal them-selves," or the Holy, immediately. It is only after I become prayerfully present to them that their presence, in their dimin-ished physical or mental condition, speaks to my heart. They tell me about life's brevity, about our dependence on God, and show that we are only pilgrims here. One day I took a visiting priest acquaintance to see our treasured sisters on the second floor. He began preaching to them about their duty to contemplate. With blank faces they just looked at him. A confused embarrassment seized him, and he became speechless. There was nothing more to say. Later I wondered if these sisters are in the contemplative state of being in God's wordless embrace. One cannot know such secrets. These sisters, and we ourselves, spend lives desiring such close-ness. But, because they and we have also spent years seeking responsible and prudent control of our lives, such vulnerability, such complete dependence on God and on others, is likely to be fraught with fear as well. On a recent visit to Pittsburgh, Trappist monk Thomas Keating, founder of Contemplative Outreach, spoke to an ecu-menical group gathered at another Franciscan motherhouse. He spoke of the prayerful consent that is part of Centering Prayer, for fostering contemplative experience. He spoke of the call to follow Christ and to let go of possessions--not external possessions so much as interior ones, the baggage of attitudes that we carry with us (in his phrase, the false self). At one point he looked up at the' choir loft, where the frailest of the com-munity's sisters were. He spoke directly to them, taking note of their willing acceptance of their present frailty, their loss of health, their losses of young self-reliance and of status in the community. He saw their disabilities as precious gifts from God, Review for Religious things to be grateful for. His words reminded me of my own sisters on the second floor. But to accept diminishment with gratitude is not easy. Solidarity with Suffering A few footsteps away from my office, my belief in the cru-cified and resurrected Christ was tested. Suffering is a mystery. We do not want to see others suffer, nor do we want suffering in our own lives. When faced with the suffering of people we love, what is our response? Henri Nouwen says: A friend who was very ill had a great devotion to Mary, the mother of Jesus, and derided to make a pilgrimage to Lourdes to ask for healing. When she left, I was afraid that she would be disillusioned if no miracle happened. But on her return she said, "Never did I see so many sick people. When I came face-to-face with that human suffering, I no longer wanted a miracle. I no longer wanted to be the exception. I experienced a deep desire to be one of them, to belong to these wounded people. Instead of praying for a cure, I prayed that I would have the grace to bear my illness in solidarity with them. And I trust that the mother of Jesus will bring my prayer to her Son."s As for myself, I have never come to the point of wanting "to be one of them." I desire to be well. But so did this dear woman on her way to Lourdes for healing. Is true healing the ability to love so deeply that we long to share others' intense pain and sorrow? That is what Jesus did. When we are young, we find many ways to escape that question and that reality. As we age and see diminishment in ourselves, our families, and our friends, the question returns. That call to solidarity in suffering is a difficult call to hear, especially when the time actually comes for us to visit--or move to--the "second floor." Sacrament of the Present Moment - Even in Dementia "Where am I going?" she asks, her body slumped. The eyes, once sparkling with joie de vivre, now are dim, like smoldering wicks. "I can understand," she says, "why, without faith, one155 March-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Aging could commit suicide. Not that I want to," she says, "but I understand. I know why others would do this." Coming out of my own uncomfortable search for something to say, I ask, "Do you have faith? . Why, yes, I do." But soon she is asking, "What should I do? What is happening to me?" These words rose in her during the initial stages of Alzheimer's. It is easy to agree with the maxim that "a mind is a terrible thing to waste." In a group where many have been educators, the relentless decline of mental acumen is truly frightening. In this place, you can imagine the ardor one brings to reading the "Nuns' Study" !6 In the light (or darkness) of this feared disease, a faith per-spective does not come easy, even in a congregation whose motto is "Thy will be done." I needed to be reverently present to any-one who was concerned about Alzheimer's, just as I did to those showing symptoms of it. I needed to be cautious about explain-ing away dementia-with pious sayings or even a quick quota-tion from Scripture. For many months Sister Mary would stalk me, particularly at sundown. Even when I did not initially see her, I could sense her presence and her foreboding look. I had learned earlier that I should keep touch with my own inner experience when relat-ing to others. With Mary, the more I avoided her physically and psychologically, the more she pursued and pressured me. Her cognitive impairment was becoming worse. I would think, "Oh, here she is, pestering me again!" or "She's got dementia. She doesn't know what she's talking about." One time she was particularly adamant: "How awful to be on the second floo!! How cruel you were to put me there!" And on and on, in a sort of frenzy. I wondered, "What ever happened to that loving and supportive friend I had for so many years?" I thought of relat-ing to her as a simple matter of"how to handle a difficult situ-ation." I thought of Christ being in her, but was far from experiencing it. Worn down by her raving, I was wondering if she had received her medication. I called the nurse to ask. Sister Mary heard me and said, "You think medication is going to take care of this? You are not around and you think medicine is going to cure this? That's not the way! That's not the way!" My "quick and appropriate solution"--so that I could be about more Review for Religious "important" things--stirred up more mistrust in Sister and greater frustration in me. Then my faith invited me to adopt a new perspective. I paused, put aside other matters, sat face-to-face with her, and listened. Soon both of us were at peace. After a while she returned to her room for the evening. This scenario occurred more than once. Afterwards, pondering the healing that took place when I was more present to her, I realized that there is a sacramentality in such moments. Jean-Pierre de Caussade says: There is never a moment when God does not come forward in the guise of some suffering or some duty, and all that takes place within us, around us, and through us both includes and hides his activity. Yet, because it is invisible, we are taken by surprise and do not recognize his operation until it has passed by us. If we could lift the veil and if we watched with vigilant attention, God would endlessly reveal himself to us, and we should see and rejoice in his active presence in all that befalls us. At every event we should exclaim: "It is the Lord!''7 Can I be alert to this potential revelation of God the next time I am stalked by one of my own sisters? When people complain to me about the odd behavior or mental confusion of a dear friend of theirs, can I help them see Christ's presence in the situation? How do I do that? Caussade reminds us of the power of faith: It is faith which interprets God for us. Without its light we should not even know that God is speaking, but would hear only the confused, meaningless bab-ble of creatures. As Moses saw the flame of fire in the bush and heard the voice of God coming from it, so faith will enable us to understand his hidden signs, so that amidst all the apparent clutter and disorder we shall see all the loveliness and perfection of divine wisdom.8 Seeking Life's Deeper Meaning A few years ago Sister Mary Stella came to my office quite excited about the prospect of winning a car or money for the 157 Vlarch-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Aging community. A piece of mail had informed her that she had been "selected to win." I tried to explain to her about the money-maEing ploy of these contests. She insisted: "Fill it out for me. I can't see!" Hoping that somewhere in this experience there would be a teachable moment, I filled out the form and mailed it. A few weeks later she received a "free" watch. "See," she told me, "I am already winning! I will really help the congre-gation when the check arrives." Not long after the watch came, Sister was billed $75 for a magazine subscription. She called me to her room. Obviously upset, she said she did not have the money for this subscription and believed that, if she canceled it, she would be responsible for the salesperson's losing her job. "I should have listened to you," she lamented. My teachable moment had arrived! Though I was angry about companies that exploit senior citizens, I gently explained to her that this is an advertising gimmick, that all she needed to do was write "cancel" on the bill and mail it back; the matter would be over. She listened. I left the room thinking all was well. But within a few days Sister stopped eating. She did not come to morning Mass. She stayed in her room, depressed and despondent. Noticing this, I spent some extended time with her, but she was silent. She wanted to see a priest. I called the Franciscan priest who often served us, and he paid her a pastoral visit. Her depression lingered. I visited her again. She still lamented, "I can't pay the bill, and the poor man will lose his job." Her suffering was evident. Her sheltered and "precomputer" life did not prepare her to understand today's big-business advertising. So I listened, and then I suggested that we write the man a letter with an apology, explain her cur-rent financial situation, and return the watch. Her eyes lit up at the prospect. Together we composed a letter, which she signed and I mailed. In a few days she was back to normal. A few months later her health declined, simply by reason of her advancing age. When I visited, she looked up at me from her bed and with a most peacef~l look said, "I will never forget your gentleness to me when I thought I would win that money. You were so kind." The entire episode showed us God's grace working in both our lives. I continued to see how greatly these older sisters desire to contribute to the congregation. Review for Religqous Supporting the congregation financially gave meaning to the sisters all their lives, even as they themselves led a frugal existence. They had experienced the Depression firsthand and had stories to tell about begging alongside factories, begging h0use-to-house for summer stipends, or asking for funds by writing letters to family and friends. Today, for some, lotteries and various contests appear to be another source of financial support for the congregation. One sister, clear-minded at ninety-nine, had a lucky streak. Although she lived frugally, I heard rumors of her "having money." Family and friends would buy her lottery tickets and then cash them in for her when she mailed back the winning ticket. Although I was "out of the loop" of direct information about these transactions, I somehow always found out about them. Though some might find gambling question-able in light of the vow of poverty, I waited to see what would happen eventually, since Sister's participation connected her to others and caused no harm. Sometimes months would pass between rumors of her winnings and her eventual cash donation of $200 or $300. The happiness she radiated sent the message that even at ninety-nine she could contribute to the community. She rarely wanted anything for herself. Suspicions about a breach of her vow disappeared. I have often noticed with what pride the sisters contribute their Christmas, birthday, Easter, and anniversary donations to the communal kitty, expecting my gratitude as they do so. I appreciate what they do, but I have encouraged them to find meaning in other parts of their lives too. Their very presence in love, patience, and faith is a meaningful gift to the community, to their families, and to all who witness their kindness. I have invited them to look for ways of spreading the Good News in and beyond the community. I have tried to be attentive to the I have often noticed with what pride the sisters contribute their Christmas, birthday, Easter, and anniversary donations to the communal kitty. March-April 2002 Wodarczyk * Aging ordinary things they accomplish or experience, and I have lis-tened affirmingly as they speak about what they did and are doing with their lives. I have learned, too, about meaning that is not initially obvious. Sister Gina was a "collector." Her room was filled with any-thing and everything. Some might call it clutter. One day she said to me, "You know, when I die, people will complain about all the stuff I left behind. Some have already asked me to clean things up. But I want you to know something. Now that I can go nowhere, I have brought into my room all kinds of things that bring to mind the wonderful friends I have had in my life. These things always make me happy, and I pray for these peo-ple as well." When Sister Gina died, I took care of her things quietly, without others knowing, needing to respect the gen-uineness of her words to me. Most of this "junk" humbly con-veyed love and friendship and gave meaning to Sister Gina's last days. An Incarnational Spirituality When our sisters come to the Manor, transportation diffi-culties and their declining health limit their activity. Two things seem to arise in the absence of formal ministry. There is some-times an unhealthy focus on self and on the "world" of the Manor. Small matters become major concerns. Negativity can result. Teresa of Avila saw such problems in her cloistered monastery.9 There is perhaps no one remedy, but I have seen changes for the better when sisters choose other avenues of ser-vice or ministry or other activities compatible with their new status and their personal limitations. The healthiest and happiest in the Manor were those who were able to rechannel their formation-for-ministry in creative ways. Writing letters to friends, family members, and politi-cians and intercessory prayer for the needs of others are integral to the sisters' lives and are a genuine service they render. Decorating the chapel for feasts, participating as readers or Eucharistic ministers during the litu#gies, companioning another to the physician, sending get-well cards to the hospitalized, and visiting the "second floor" are but a few of the ways the sisters incarnate their love for God in service to their neighbor. Their Review for Religious humble acceptance of their limitations and their patient strug-gles day by day become invaluable tools in building up the body of Christ, as those who are touched by their witness can testi@. For the sisters, their personal sufferings take on deeper mean-ing as they offer them for the intentions of people who have requested their prayer and support. Perhaps some ecumenical healing takes place as well, as staff members of different faiths take care of these sisters, who have lived their lives with hearts so attuned to Roman Catholicism. The sisters remain educators, teaching young care-givers about faith, patience, forgiveness, hope, acceptance and nonacceptance of suffering and dying. The sisters, too, are stretched to go beyond the images of a vowed religious life that is past and gone. After fifty years or more of religious life, that is not a small stretch. Sports on television and radio, and movies, books, excur-sions, concerts, and so forth offer relaxation and outreach--for nothing can "separate us from the love of Christ" (Rm 8:35). Some sisters have become mentors or teachers in various spe-cialties. One Sister translated from Polish to English a valu-able book on the foundress of our community, Frances Siedliska. With phones now in every room, telephone ministry to family and friends became possible. Advocacy for human rights and other special interests is also a possible ministry for the sisters. If we live by the truth and in love, we can "grow in all ways into Christ" (Ep 4:15). All these ways of service build the king-dom of love among the family of God; they express the mis-sion of the Congregation of the Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth. "Tell Him to Wait!" Several months ago Sister Helen, our 95-year-old, was quite ill. She ceased to breathe during an MRI, and the hospital staff, acting on impulse rather than consulting her advance directive, resuscitated her. The doctor called me and told me Sister had been placed on a breathing machine. Twenty-four hours later the doctor removed the breathing machine, and, staunchly, Sister Helen survived the ordeal. I visited her in the hospital and reminded her gently, "Sister Helen, you are very ill. Perhaps 1K1 March-April 2002 Jesus will call you soon." "Let him wait," she bellowed; "I'm not dead yet!" I was taken aback, slow to see the humor. Later I reflected: "She has been a baptized Catholic for ninety-five years and a member of our religious community for eighty years. She has prayed each day of those years. She has a profound rela-tionship with God. After eighty years of relating, a certain free-dom of relationship must exist between lovers. How free Love can make us!" Sister Caritas died several years ago, and I especially remem-ber her dying. Racked with fever, in great distress, she held my finger tightly--so firmly that it reminded me of what my friend Maureen told me about a birth. Her sister's husband was on a business trip, and Maureen was in the delivery room with her sister. Her sister grasped her hand so tightly during the birth that Maureen needed several weeks of hand therapy afterward. While grasping my finger, Sister Caritas, too, was being born, born into eternal life. I have been with others who have died, not all struggling as did Sister Caritas. Some have gone to the Lord gently. Others have chosen to stop treatment and accepted the palliative care that became part of that choice. Some died after years, months, or a few days of being bedridden; others, while taking a nap. Each "birthing" has been different, each one very final, each one inviting me to deepen my belief in the life hereafter. Here at the Manor--or anywhere, of course--other kinds of dying occur earlier, before that actual moment. Every stage of Elisabeth Kubler-Ross's death-and-dying theory is lived out here: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance.1° Are some stages more appropriate, more holy, than others? ls the sis-ter in denial less effective in dealing with dying than the one who is angry and displacing it at every available opportunity? And the one who bargains--"If I keep on living on the third floor, I'll never get like those on the second floor"--is she less holy than the one whose depression shows all over her face and in her every bodily move? And is she still less holy than the one who grieves her loss, accepts additional personal help, gently accepts the everyday deaths and dyings that are part of human experience? I think there can be no comparisons here. When one strug-gles in the face of d~ath, regardless of what type, the struggle is Review for Religious real. "It remains true," as Pope John Paul has observed, "that the years pass quickly, and the gift of life, for all the effort and pain it involves, is too beautiful and precious for us ever to grow tired of it." 1, And so we struggle and deny, are angered, bargain, and are depressed. In the end we do accept the reality that has been presented to us by Life. The challenge for me in the Manor community was to have faith in this precious journey and trust that the increasing pains are redemptive. I chose to permit people to be themselves: I challenge, but do not force. Rather, I wait in patience for God's grace to touch hearts and hurts and lead all of us into his sacred presence. My Beloved As we religious grow toward accepting death, the inevitable reality shared by all creation, I believe that a life of prayer sustains us. Deep within us all there is an amazing inner sanctuary of the soul, a holy place, a Divine Center, a speaking Voice, to which we may continuously return . It is a Light within which illuminates the face of God. for the spiritual person is forever bringing all affairs down into the light, holding them there in the Presence, reseeing [sic] them and the whole of the world., in a new and overturning way.12 A life of prayer is different for each of us: some tending to more prescribed prayers, others to a more wordless prayer. What is common about prayer life is the deep relationship with God that is so special and so sacred to each one. Inscribed on each sis-ter's profession ring are the words "My Beloved is mine and I am His," from the Song of Songs (2:16). She not only wears that ring, she lives that reality. Recently I was asked to be the community witness when Sister Ann's casket was closed. Before burial we normally remove from the deceased our congregational cross and ring. On this occasion the undertaker could not remove the ring. I advised him to leave it and close the coffin. Reflecting on this moment afterwards, I considered it to be as symbolic as the ring itself. Sister Ann, orphaned as a child, surrendered herself to God March-April 2002 Wodarczyk * Aging through her vows and eventually, as Alzheimer's disease kept taking its toll, was stripped of family, friends, and even cogni-tion. The one thing that remained was the reality: she was her Beloved's and her Beloved was hers. The sisters at the Manor foster that relationship with their Beloved in many ways, including personal and communal prayer. Communally we have had to vary our prayer style here. Because of impaired hearing and sight and various other physical limi-tations, we no longer say Office in common. But the sisters pray faithfully --in their rooms, in the chapel, at Mass, on the porch, while walking outdoors or in the corridors, and during our spe-cial Friday mornings in the chapel. When they are very ill, they may say they cannot pray, and some are troubled by this. Others say that they are simply united with Jesus in their suffering, which is "nothing compared with His." Still others are quiet, their faith wrapping them palpably like a shawl. At times faith grows in darkness. It is no small discomfort when one who has dedicated her ehtire life to God questions the existence of God. When suffering is too much, "God, O God, why did you abandon me?" becomes the prayer of the day, or week, or even longer. In community, even as we pray in various ways, we journey in prayer together. Just as the psalms pray through the gamut of human emotion, so our lives together become a living psalter. Anlen I cannot think of any richer ministry experience within my thirty-nine years as a member of the Congregation of the Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth than the time I spent in service to my sisters at Holy Family Manor. But my two three-year terms as convent superior here have come to an end. "Relieved?" my current provincial superior asked me before announcing my replacement. "Mixed feelings," I mumbled. But I know that this is right and good. My body and my spirit home in on a few words in my Moses poem: "Take offyour shoes, believe in your Moses, and go." Now they have a fuller meaning: ". go, relax awhile, and then, changed by this burning-bush experience of yours, go on and minister to whatever people I, your God, choose for you!" I respond: Amen. Review for Religious Notes l Jane Marie Thibault, A Deepening Love Affair: The Gift of God in Later in Life (Nashville: Upper Room Books, 1993). 2 The welcoming service was composed by Sister Therese Frankowski. 3 The names of most of the sisters in this article have been changed. 4 Henri J.M. Nouwen, Behold the Beauty of the Lord: Praying with Icons (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1987). s Henri J.M. Nouwen, Our Greatest Gift: A Meditation on Dying and Caring (New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 1994). 6 David Snowden PhD, Aging with Grace: What the Nuns' Study Teaches Us about Leading Longer, Healthier, and More Meaningful Lives (New York: Bantam Press, 2001). 7 Jean-Pierre de Caussade, Abandonment to Divine Providence, trans. John Beevers (New York: Image Books, 1975), p. 34. ~ Caussade, p. 37. 9 The Way of Perfection, chap. 4. ,0 Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, On Death and Dying (New York: Macmillan Publishing Company, 1969). '~ John Paul II, Letter to the Elderly (1 October 1999), §1. ,z C.S. Lewis, as cited in A Step Beyond: Advanced Training in Pastoral Bereavement Counseling (Archdiocese of New York: The Ministry to the Bereaved, November 1994), p. 32. School Day, 1947 I am seven, on my way to school, crisp snow sparkles in the sun. As I walk along, I reflect that some day a man will offer me a diamond ring, but today God himself has hurled thousands at my feet. Mary Hanson ~larch-April 2002 HELEN JEAN NOVY Coping with Repetition: A Spirituality for Ministering to the Elderly ~ehncoeuthneter rds uwriinthg tfhaem eilldye rvlyis iotfst eonr ifnovromlvael mdeianliisntgry w, iothur their habits of repetition. I have overheard "Dad, you say the exact same thing every time I come," and I have heard myself saying "Mom, you ask me that again and again." The proverb "Variety is the spice of life" inclines us to assume variety as a condition of anyone's continuing interest or at least as a lively attention getter. Repetition, however, is a necessary complement to variety. A systematic interplay of repetition and variation is a sine qua non for the arts. Consider the structure of sonatas or the form of songs. Aaron Copland's "Simple Gifts" in Appalachian Spring is an example of theme and variations, as is Max Reger's Variations on "America." In prayer, too, there is repetiton and variation. Christians regularly praying the Liturgy of the Hours, for example, are so accustomed to Morning Prayer's psalms for Week One that most know them by heart. Their predictability provides a rhythm that matches the regularity of breathing. But along with this comes the season's or feast's antiphon, giving a turn to the verses of the psalm and in a sense reinventing them. Helen Jean Novy HM is director of mission effectiveness at Magnificat High School; 20770 Hilliard Road; Rocky River, Ohio 44116. Review for Religious For Sunday of the First Week in Ordinary Time, this antiphon begins and ends Psalm 63: "As morning breaks I look to you, O God, to be my strength this day." The antiphon suffuses the psalmist's words that follow: "O God, you are my God, for you I long; for you my soul is thirsting. My body pines for you like a dry, weary land without water." For the feast of Saints Peter and Paul, a different anti-phon frames the same psalm w"I know the one whom I have trusted"--and gives it a different tinge: "O God, you are my God, for you I long; for you my soul is thirsting. My body pines for you like a dry, weary land without water." The synoptic Gospels, echoing each other in recounting the same events and sayings, do it with small yet significant differences. Compare the healing of Peter's mother-in-law in Mark 1 .'31 ("he came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her"), in Luke 4:39 ("he stood over her and rebuked the fever, and it left her"), and in Matthew 8:15 ("he touched her hand, and the fever left her, and she got up"). Might these considerations guide our responses to the repetitiousness of elderly people who have debilities of memory or concentration? Each encounter with another person, even though seemingly routine, is a new arid original encounter. Both parties are changed by the passing of time--by the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual experiences of the intervening time--even if only minutely. Health has improved or declined; the weather has turned warmer or cooler; clothes are brighter or more uniform; the staff has been updated or has had a turnover; the family has been reunited or suffered a loss; a sacrament has been received or a prayer prayed. "No need to recall the past. I am doing a new thing" (Is 43:18-19). Could Yahweh God be doing this new thing daily? God indeed adds yeast to the dough of the soul, lets it work, and gives it the kneading it requires: prayer and contemplation, opportunities for good works and self-sacrifice, active or passive Perhaps the most mutually soothing response to unceasing repetitions is a silent laying on of hands, a gentle and loving touch. I67 March-April 2002 Novy ¯ Coping witb Repetition suffering, or simply love's perpetually re-creating thoughts and deeds and words. Does it take yeoman patience to hear the same questions, the same comments, the same concerns day in and day out, hour by hour, and even minute by minute? Of course, those who minister have to work on themselves, cultivating a reliable equanimity and ideally a blend of knowing tolerance and psychological and spiritual understanding: Thank heaven she can still respond., what a grace that we can still interact., how humbling that he takes his own debility in stride., bow merciful that she is unaware., what a gift.t that I can encounter the very Christ in the simplicity and vulnerability of this person. Perhaps the most mutually soothing response to unceasing repetitions is a silent laying on of hands, a gentle and loving touch. Only by taking the tensions and strains of working with the sick-elderly to prayer again and again will ministers discover each person as an "imago Christi, a living analogue of the crucified Christ. As they do this, the ministers themselves will be molded into other Christs. They may find themselves praying the antiphons and psalms of the Liturgy of the Hours in the persona of Christ in the sick-elderly: "For you my soul is thirsting. My body pines for you like a dry, weary land without water." In the purview of faith, while the soul of the minister is being tuned to a new pitch, the souls of those they minister to become new songs. The Spirit sings through the adaptive constancy of the one and the dulling repetitions of the others, harmonizing both in the mystery of Divine Providence's unfathomable workings. G.K. Chesterton suggested that we should not take for granted the rising of the sun. Such a glorious phenomenon may well depend on the childlike delight of God calling for an encore: "Do it again, Sun!" Ultimately, deepening spirituality will not only expect the unexpected; it will expect the familiar, the recurring, the repetitious. It will perceive even the annoyance of repetition as a melodic refrain within the grand orchestration ¯ of God. Review for Religious JOAN WAGNER Medaille's "Means" and Religious Life's Renewal At our last meeting, in June 1998, I attempted to show that the primitive documents of the Sisters of St. Joseph indicate that apostolic endeavors have deep mystical foundations. In the present paper I examine other aspects of these primitive documents, aspects that pertain especially to the communal life of small communities that undertake apostolic ministry. Because this article focuses on the spiritual and apostolic insights of Father Jean-Pierre Medaille SJ, it is intended especially for those who walk in his tradition, but also for all professed religious who seek the deepening of their community life and their apostolic action. I will focus on six "means" derived from Father Medaille's writings, but first I draw your attention to two Scripture passages that were of major importance for Medaille: Have this mind among yourselves, which was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself taking the form of a p rspecliv s Joan Wagner ssJ presented this paper in Milwaukee in June 2001 at the fifth triennial meeting of the Conference on the History of Women Religious. Her address is Little Design Community; 171 Schiller Street; Buffalo, New York 14206. March-April 2002 Wagner * Medaille's "Means" servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. (Ph 2:5-11) That they may all be one; even as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that thou hast sent me. The glory which thou hast given me I have given to them that they may be one even as we are. one, I in them and thou in me, that they may become per-fectly one, so that the world may know that thou hast sent me and hast loved them even as thou hast loved me. (Jn 17:21-23) I think that adopting Father Medaille's "means" could help contemporary religious to practice the emptying spoken of in Philippians and thereby achieve the unions spoken of in John's Gospel. After discussing these "means," I will offer some concrete proposals for living them. The new community to which I belong, the community of the Little Design, is attempting to establish its communal life on "the means of Medaille." Clarifying the Scope of Medaille's "Means" The six "means" that I will be discussing cannot be found at any one location within the Primitive Documents of the Sisters of St. Joseph. In fact, nowhere in Medaille's writings did he use the term "means" as I use it in this article. It is a concept that was first formed in the latter decades of the 20th century, that is, three hundred years after Medaille, by a commentator on the Primitive Documents, Sister Julie Harkins of the Boston Sisters of St. Joseph. I first encountered Sister Julie's work when I attended a charism retreat that she gave in Wichita, Kansas. In her presentation she referred to "six central means found in the lived experience of our first sisters to maintain unity among themselves and to be apostolic communities of love." Even as I Review for Religious taped her presentation at that conference, I felt that her ideas and concepts about Medaille's approach were truly a treasure. It seemed to me that Medaille had applied St. Ignatius Loyola's Rules for Discernment in a new way, using at the communal level the retreat pedagogy of reflection on experience. He adapted those rules to unlettered and diverse groups of women, to assist them in becoming apostolic communities of love. Other interpreters of the Primitive Documents of the Sisters of St. Joseph such as Sister Vacher and Sister de Vaublanc have analyzed the practices that Medaille proposed for the early sisters. Not all of these commentators would agree that the six "means" identified by Sister Julie Harkins capture the heart of Medaille's approach. Other phrasings and other lists of "means" have been proposed. It has also been suggested that Medaille's approach can be represented by one expansive "means," the sisters' sharing their hearts unreservedly. To shed additional light on whether I-Iarldns's six "means" adequately represent Medaille's approach, I suggest that we consider how difficult it would be to distill the central practices recommended by St. Paul. We know that Paul wrote extensively about the living of the Christian life. (His writings are far more extensive than Medaille's even if we consider all the Maxims and other Primitive Documents to be authentically his.) How then to express the central "means" of St. Paul? One commentator might comb through his writings and identify six "means" as central. Another might determine that there are actually four or eight or one. Obviously there is much room for disagreement. Keep in mind, then, that there are various ways of presenting the essence of Medaille's approach even as I now list Harkins's six "means." I advocate them as the basis of the community life of religious women, today--but always understanding their meaning within the Gospels' call to discipleship. Please note, too, that in Harldns's list there are two dimensions in Means 2 (and perhaps in Means 3 as well). And there is some overlapping among the various "means" since the boundaries among them are not tightly drawn. Finally, note that Means 6 is phrased in such a broad, all-encompassing way that it seems to subsume the preceding five "means." Here, then, is Sister Julie Harkins's list of Medaille's "means": 171 March-April 2002 _Wag~, er ¯ Medaille's "Means" 1. Sharing experiences and feelings in prayer and doing so with candor and simplicity (Reglements, p. 9 par. 6). 2. Sharing the state of the house (outer as well as inner) and sharing the next step to which ofie is called (Reglements, p. 8 par. 4; Primitive Constitutions, p. 16 par. 1; p. 21 par. 4, 5, 6; p. 39 par. 6; p. 51 par. 8). 3. Sharing the dangers (evils) that threaten community life; protesting (promising) to safeguard what will safeguard the common union (Primitive Constitutions, pp. 58-66; Protestations, pp. 67-68). 4. Sharing what is our city and dividing the city among ourselves to discover the evils and to work for their healing (Primitive Constiitutions, p. i1 par. 6; p. 29 par. 9; p. 30 par. 1-3; p. 31 par. 1-2). 5. Sharing with each other how through works of service they are building the kingdom of love among the dear neighbors and the members of the community (Reglements, p. 8 par. 4; Primitive Constitutions, p. 17 par. 2). 6. Fidelity to the core spirituality: being grouped in honor of the Father, Son, and Spirit; Jesus, Mary, and Joseph (Maxims of Perfection, pp. 21-22; Reglements, pp. 4-5; Primitive Constitutions, pp. 12 and 57). Putting Medaille's "Means" into Practice You can see that the first three "means" listed pertain to spiritual bonding within the community; they deal primarily with discernment of spirits as a way of life. The next two "means" pertain to discerning the apostolic and prophetic stance to which the community may be called; these "means" address discernment as a decision-making process. Finally, the sixth "means" stands above the others and informs all of them inasmuch as it focuses upon the mystical relationships that are at the heart of the calling that Medaille identified for the Sisters of St. Joseph. I am keenly excited about having our Little Design community underway. This small community employs Medaille's own term, and it represents the fulfillment of a dream for refoundation that I have had for forty years. (Be it known, however, that at least one other person has called this dream my Review for Religious obsession.) As I write, this house is only three months old and at present has only two members. We have good hopes of attracting other young women who are interested in a life that is based on these six "means" of becoming an apostolic community of love. Let us now consider Medaille's first "means": sharing experiences and feelings in prayer and doing so with candor and simplicity. I will first try to explain why I feel that this is important, and then I will offer some recommendations about how to practice such sharing. The mystery of faith revealed to us in Scripture, particularly in Paul and John, is that all of history is now sacred history. This is the impact of the incarnation on our daily life (note--in Philippians 2:6-11, one of the passages cited above--the relevance of Paul's theology). All of our ordinary daily life is filled with God drawing our human consciousness to God's Self. God desires for us an ever-growing love and participation in the life of Jesus. This goes on in each moment of our human experience, and it registers as a thought, a tendency, a mood, a feeling. (Father George Aschenbrenner SJ has emphasized this approach in his conferences.) It is one thing to believe this. It is another to be deeply aware of it. It is a third step to be keenly sensitive to it. Our response is toward a greater share in living out Jesus' mission (note here the relevance of the John 17 passage on unity). To share within a community (I envision one of three to five sisters) one's experience in prayer presupposes incarnational theology and could move the community from believing to the final stage of responding. Submission to the group mandate for the purpose of growth enables believing, awareness, and sensitivity to develop. And movements of grace obviously become more explicit when inner awareness moves to vocal articulation. Sharing one's prayer experience with candor and simplicity is a demanding endeavor. An emptying is required, but I believe it leads to a new depth of communal unity if it is done in faith, All of our ordinary daily life is f!lled with God drawing our human consciousness to God's Self. --!73 Mt~.rcb-dpril 2002 Wagner ¯ Medaille's "Means" trust, and love. This depth is the mystery of God made more manifest in and among ourselves. We become more conscious of the call to respond and to be accountable. How would this be implemented? A possible scenario would be a biweekly gathering at which community members would relate movements of consolation and desolation during their prayer of the previous few days. Journaling after prayer periods would help members to be more responsibly prepared for the group gathering. Those who have had an Ignatian directed retreat will easily identify with this process. At present our small community enters into Morning Praise with a psalm, quiet time to reflect, and then the citing of a word, phrase, or line that was "given." The Gospel for the day is then read aloud. This is followed by a brief period of quiet and a brief time of communal sharing. All of this is done within half an hour and prepares us for deeper listening at liturgy. The content of our prayer in the future may vary, but the communal sharing is integral. Medaille's second "means" has three aspects: sharing the state of the house (outer as well as inner) and sharing the next step to which one is called. "The state of the house" has two meanings: first, the practical details of the community's living quarters. For harmonious living, responsibility and accountability are expected from every member. Such matters as cleaning, shopping for food, preparing meals, paying bills, scheduling prayer, hospitality, and times for silence are basic elements in a well-ordered "house." Honesty prevailing, the community will be aware of members' overextension or ill health, of things needing repair, and so forth. With solutions to be found, the quality presence of each member is important. The ebb and flow of external harmony is guaranteed by this practical sharing. The other "house" is the inner one, the heart. Teresa of Avila in her Way of Perfection notes that in praying it is essential to recognize and own how one is as one stands before the Beloved: weak, grateful, sinful, needy. This ownership of my incarnate self relates me to the incarnate Jesus. In truth, to articulate that inner state demands honesty, probes causes, and elicits understanding. What a sacred gift to offer my sisters: an emptying for the purpose of union,t My creaturely limitation stands naked before the Christ I trust, and before the Body of Review for Religious Christ in my sisters. Transformation in Christ occurs when I share in Jesus' life--in his being child of God and sharer in created human nature. The next aspect of the second "means," sharing the next step to which one is called, flows out of the group's increasing sensitivity. Articulation of deeper desires was a requirement for Jesuit novices, and this may have influenced Medaille to recommend this sharing to the first sisters. Great desires for God need to be fostered into action or they die. One's next step may be small and subtle or grand and significant. It could be to create a dream, to change a pattern of behavior, to attend to one's health, or to begin a new relationship. Such matters require careful handling with regard to the members' personal and communal mission. They begin in the human heart. It was the sharing that Teresa of Avila had with John of the Cross that enabled them to take the next steps for the refoundation of the Carmelite order. It was the vision that Ignatius shared with Francis Xavier that led to his bringing the faith to south and east Asia. Incarnational theology points out that our deepest desires are God-given. The word God gives us is to be spoken and enfleshed. The emptying required in taking next steps in our lives is attested to in the lives of men and women who accomplished much for God. A Saturday morning once a month could be set aside to ensure Medaille's second "means." Although the focus would vary, all aspects of this "means" would be attended to within this leisurely time together. Community members could take turns facilitating a simple process that might begin with listening to a member describe a project that she feels called to initiate. The listening could be followed b~ quiet reflection, questions, and dialogue. In this way one member's hopeful desire would be gracefully fostered and nurtured or deemed unsuitable or temporarily tabled for deeper discerning. At present our Little Design community gathers in the community room on Saturday mornings for about an hour and a Incarnational theology points out that our deepest desires are God-given. March-April 2002 H~ner * Medaille'~ "Means" half, a time we consider sacred. Because we are a new community, we do this every Saturday unless some special event interferes. We realize, too, that it is easy to spend too much time on the "outer" house, and so we strive to ensure the more interior and bonding elements of this second "means." Medaille's third "means" is sharing the dangers (evils) that threaten community life, protesting (promising) to safeguard what will safeguard the common union. One might ask wh

Issue 59.1 of the Review for Religious, 2000. ; Vowed Life Featur~ Religious Mission ~ Finding God Living Celibat,ely Balkans Report JANUARY FEBRUARY 2_000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER I Review for Religious helps people respond and be faithful to God's universal call to bollness by making available to them the spiritual legacies tbat flow from the cbarisms of Catholic consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: foppema@slu.edu Manuscripts, books for review, aud correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP P.O. Box 29260; V~rashington, D.C. 20017 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2000 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such pertnission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. restrictions, in a world of hate and division, of civilian bombings and life-snuffing concentration camps, this iournal spoke about dialogue and intercommunication, about ministries of love and service, about vocations to align oneself with God's peaceable king-dom and to pray for that kingdom to come. I am thankful for the gift this journal has been to the church, to religious life, and to the spiritual-life developments of our times. I thank God for raising up and inspiring the founding editors to begin the dialogue--something not common in the 1940s--across the different spiritual heritages which are represented by Catholic religious congregations and which continue to feed the spiritual life of church members everywhere. I am grateful for all the writers who have shared their insights, raised questions, instructed in prayer and in ecclesial history, and inspired our ministerial efforts. For all that has been---Thanks! With this first issue of the year 2000 a new-look cover greets our readers, along with a revision of our secondary title. For the previous eight years, because of the creative contribution of the advisory board and the staff, the journal had this shorthand way of stating its content: Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living. After more discussion with current board members and staff, we now state our content even more simply: Living Our Catholic Legacies. Our mission statement, too, has found new expression for things our journal continues to have in view (see inside front cover). This is our way of saying Yes as we look to the future. While we say "To all that shall be--Yes," I have some con-cern about a shrinking subscriber list. We know that the primary readership--women and men religious--continues to grow less in number in the United States and in European countries. I would not like to say Yes to a declining subscription number without encouraging all of you tostir up your own efforts to increase our readers, hopefully even our subscribers, among your own congre-gation members and associate members if you are a religious, and among friends and colleagues who share spiritual companionship and ministry with you. Review for Religious remains a unique journal in the English-speaking world for our continuing educa-tion, formation, and inspiration in living the rich Catholic legacies that form our church spirituality. I hope that you, our readers, share in our appreciation and enthusiasm. "To all that shall be-- Yes!" allows plenty of room for our best efforts. David L. Fleming SJ Januaty-Februa~y 2000 MICHAEL HIMES Returning to Our Ancestral Lands feature I am a little more daunted than I usually am because you are vicars for religious and you bring me in, a dioce-san priest, to talk to you. I can plead two things. One, I lived, during my happy years at the University of Notre Dame, at Moreau Seminary in the company and with the hospitality of the Congregation of Holy Cross and came to have the greatest affection and respect for them. I am now living and working with the Society of Jesus at Boston College and have the greatest respect for the Society of Jesus. My brother, and sometime col-league, is a Franciscan. And so, though I am not a reli-gious, I shared a bedroom for years with a religious, my brother Ken. Besides these attachments to and connections with religious communities, I plead that your having a pas-sionate outside observer may be useful. That is what I come to you as--a concerned, passionate, outside Michael J. Himes, a priest of the Diocese of Brooklyn and formerly on the faculties of the University of Notre Dame and of the Seminary of the hnmaculate Conception (Huntington, New York), is currently a professor of theol-ogy at Boston College. He presented this paper (here some-what revised) in March 1999 at the 32nd assembly of the National Conference of Vicars for Religious, in whose 1999 Proceedings it was originally published. His address is Boston College; Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts 02467. Review for Religio us observer of religious life in the church. I am going to talk with you from the perspective of history. My field is the history of Christianity, with a particular interest in ecclesiology. I am going to be looking at both the history of religious life in the church and at its connection with the mission of the church at large. I took my title from Leviticus. The passage in Leviticus on the jubilee year says to mark the jubilee year by returning to our ancestral lands. In Leviticus the reason for doing this is appar-ently that, because every clan, every group, in Israel's history is of importance in God's plan and in the working out of the covenant, no family, no clan, should be allowed to disappear from the land of Israel. And so, if a clan or family gave up its land, within fifty years it would get it back again. I suggest that some of those same themes are true of religious life in the church today. There are too many important, vital, necessary experiences, images, sources of wisdom which have grown up in religious life in the Western church over the course of fifteen centuries to allow them to be lost to the life of the church. We need to go back periodically and reclaim those ances-tral lands, To do that, I want to discuss three issues--and so there will be three parts. Part One: I want to say something about the nature and pur-pose of religious life in the Catholic tradition, but I want to say it from a somewhat unusual perspective. I will explain what that is in just a moment. Part Two: I am going to offer you a thumbnail history--and it is very thumbnail history--of the development of religious life in the Western church. There is quite a distinct history to the development of religious life in the Eastern church, but up to the present moment in the Western church, I suggest, there have been three central moments in the development of religious life. We may be at the end of number three and the start of number four. In Part Three I am going to make some observations about what can be done to reclaim ancestral lands. How do you reclaim values without trying to resuscitate forms? How do you reclaim the value without saying we have got to replicate the history? Nature and Purpose of Vowed Life Let me say something about the nature and purpose of reli-gious life--of vowed life within the Christian community and espe- January-February 2000 Himes ¯ Returning to Our Ancestral Lands cially within the Catholic tradition--from a somewhat unusual perspective. That perspective I take from an immensely productive, distinguished, and influential figure in Protestant theology and philosophy of religion at the beginning of the century that is now ending--a man named Ernst Troeltsch, who died back in 1923. Before the First World War, Troeltsch produced his masterpiece, a thick volume titled The Social Teaching of the Christian Churches. The tide may be misleading to us. You may say to yourself, "All this is well and good, but I do not see what bearing it has on the topic." Let me explain. Just when you least expect it, over the hill will come the topic. Just at the point that you have given up hope of ever hearing anything relevant to your interest, lo and behold, it will make its appearance. Today, when we hear a title like The Social Teaching of the Christian Churches, we might expect that it is going to be about what we have come to call social teaching, namely, the teaching of the Christian community about the nature of political and eco-nomic justice within society. That is not what Troeltsch meant by his title. By the Christian churches' social teaching, Troeltsch meant what they taught about tl~eir own natures as societies. I mean, here you have different communities, different societies of Christians that have come together and organized themselves in very different ways. How did these various Christian societies explain themselves? What is their teaching about their own nature as a society? To trace the development of how different church communities and traditions in the history of the Christian tradition have structured themselves as churches, as communities, Troeltsch approached it in a very interesting and important way. He bor-rowed an idea from a colleague of his at Heidelberg, where he was teaching at the time: one of the great fathers that you may very well know if you have an interest in sociology, Max Weber. Troeltsch borrowed from him the notion of an ideal type. Weber's ideal type means this: You explicate different ways, different models of how a community could be organized with-out reference to any concrete existing community. Then you look at the existing communities--at the actual communities as you find them--and ask: Which of these communities is like type one? Which is like type two? Which is like three? He found this to be a particularly fruitful way of getting people" to look at com-munities and raise questions about them which they might not ordinarily raise. Review for Religious Well, Troeltsch took that notion of an ideal type and sug-gested two ideal types as ways of digging in, as tools for analyzing how different Christian communities have understood their own role, how they structured themselves. Those two ideal types he refers to as church and sect. Sect, let me emphasize, is for Troeltsch by no means a bad word. For us today in America it has come to have all sorts of bad connotations. He means none of those connotations. By sect, Troeltsch means a community of people who come together in fidelity to their under-standing of the gospel, who are united first of all by a powerful, dramatic, and deeply personal experience of conver-sion. So, for Troeltsch, one of the hall-marks of a sect type of community is (1) that all of its members are people who have personally experienced some deep and often strikingly dramatic con-version experience. You have to experi-ence being born again into Christ. You must personally "accept Jesus as your Savior," to use language that is familiar to us from some sect types of community in this country. Another hallmark is (2) that these communities see themselves as peculiarly and specially commissioned communities. There is a vibrant sense of mission. There is a kind of urgency about the fact that you have been called, you have been chosen, you have been commissioned to perform an extremely important work in the name of the gospel. So there is a striking and urgent sense of mis-sion in a sect community. Often a sect community (3) sees itself in terms of being over against the larger community. You are the people who have been called upon; you have been set up as a city on a hilltop, as a light for all the world. You are commissioned in a way that is not true of the community-at-large. You may be called to serve them, but you are different in some way from that larger community, and there should be a clear difference between you and that larger community. The sect community (4) is frequently radical in its vision of what needs to be done in the larger community. That is, it takes positions which the larger community may find to be too diffi-cult, too dangerous, too uncomfortable, too impractical. The Different societies of Christians that have come together and organized themselves in very different ways. Janual~-FebruatTy 2000 --10A Himes ¯ Returning to Our Ancestral Lands smaller sect community can advocate radical reform and radical movement. The problem with the sect community, however, as Troeltsch points out, is that it seldom survives beyond the second or at most third generation because the first generation (who have had this striking, personal experience) cannot guarantee that their chil-dren's or their grandchildren's generation is going to have that same striking experience. Very often, then, the sect begins to evap-orate or split up in various ways. My favorite image for that may be seen in one of Flannery O'Connor's letters. She has a wonderful description of why she liked to travel in the south on local trains, trains that made every stop. She said you could always, back in the 1940s and 1950s, see such interesting things. She says: "Why, you stop at one little town and you look out the window and there's a white clapboard church. And out in front of the church is a sign that says 'First Church of Jesus Christ, Lord and Savior of All Humanity, Coming Again in Glory to Save All People Who are Faithful to Him and Moved by the Holy Spirit.' The train goes five miles down and stops at the next little town, and there is a white clapboard church with a sign in front of it that says, 'Church of Jesus Christ, Lord and Savior of the World and of All Humanity, Coming Again in Glory to Save the Living and the Dead and MI Those Who are Faithful to the Gospel and Motivated by the Holy Spirit, Reformed.'" And she said, "You knew there was a history here somewhere even though you could not tell quite what it was." There's a tendency for sect communities to splinter or to evaporate. By contrast to the sect community, the church-style community is a community that (1) sees itself as incorporating all sorts of peo-ple into the Christian community. It does not claim that all of its members are equally, highly, or deeply motivated--depending on your point of view. It does not claim that all of its members have striking personal experiences. It allows for the fact that there are different levels of membership, not official membership perhaps, but in terms of involvement in the community. Not everyone is at every moment of her or his life equally fervent or actively engaged in the life of the church. A church (2) does not see itself as necessarily over against the world. There are all sorts of things in the world-at-large that the church wants to embrace and celebrate. You cannot imagine, for example, says Troeltsch, that a sect is necessarily going to embrace Review for Religious the world of the arts and sciences, whereas the church commu-nity will. It embraces the artistic values and the scientific hopes and dreams and goals and methods of a community at any given time. In comparison with a sect, there is a much greater sense of collaboration between people in the church and people outside it. It tries to build bridges. It is a community, therefore, that is much more stable than a sect community. You can be born into a church community; you have to be reborn into a sect community. The idea, for example, of an infant baptism or an infant initiation into a sect would be simply impossible, whereas it is perfectly possible for a church community. The church community sees itself as a process of lifelong nur-ture, whereas the sect community emphasizes radical, dramatic conversion experiences. The danger for church-style community, says Troeltsch, is of course that it can become too secular, it can end up being, as it were, a tool for social stability used by the soci-ety- at-large. Notice that he is not claiming one is better than another; he is setting up--and I am just giving a thumbnail sketch--he is setting up two types of community that he can use as tools with which to examine the history of various church communities. He wants to ask: What is this like? Is it more like a sect? Is it more like a church? In what ways is it like a sect? In what ways is it like a church? Now, why do I propose to you that this is an interesting way to think about religious life? Because Troeltsch makes, almost in passing, one of the most suggestive comments that I have ever seen about religious life in the Catholic tradition. The Catholic Church--certainly back in the first decade of this century when he was looking at it from his own vantage point--is one of the purest church types of organization. He says, however, that the Catholic community has had for many centuries a peculiar and brilliant way of incorporating into itself the most vital, most insightful, most valuable elements of sects that grow up within the ambit of the Catholic community. It makes them religious orders. I suggest to you that--if you think of a community gathering around Anthony in the desert, gathering around Benedict or Scholastica, gathering around Francis and Clare, gathering around Dominic or Ignatius Loyola--you certainly can see those groups as matching up very closely with what Troeltsch has to say about sect communities. You cannot be born into these groups, you have Janua~. -Feb~wa(y 2000 Himes * Returning to Our Ancestral Lands got to choose to join. It is a matter of discerning a vocational call. There is a radical break with a previous kind of life in order to enter one of these groups. They are marked by clear and certain images of what mission is and what goal is, and how you shape people to accomplish that goal. The goal includes seeing this com-munity as being very much over against the community-at-large. The group is not simply part of this world, and it is marked as not being part of this world by a kind of rejection of this world's dom-inant values. The danger here is that, if the group is not in some way stabilized by the structure of a church, it can melt away in two or three generations. Troeltsch, of course, pointed out the other danger too. The problem for the Catholic tradition is that, although the church model stabilizes the sect model by "turning sects into religious orders," in Troeltsch's phrase, it can suddenly turn the religious order into simply another branch of the church model--and thus lose the vibrancy of the sect model. I suggest that, if we are going to reclaim ancestral lands, one of the things we have to do is look to vital religious communities to be sects in the Troeltschian sense of sects. We have to look for communities of people who see themselves as personally called, called to a clear and decided mission, and who see themselves as in some way in contrast to the community around them, even in contrast to the church-at-large around them. Now, for how that happens, let me move to Part Two. Some History of the Development of Church Life I would like to make a hundred thousand qualifications, but, so that you can go to bed tonight, let me just give a very general description. I suggest to you that, up to the present moment, there are three stages to the history of religious life in the Western church. The first stage in the Western church--quite apart from the origins in Egypt and Syria and Asia Minor in the East--runs for about seven hundred years, from the middle of the 5th century to the middle of the 12 th century, roughly from A.D. 450 to 1150. If we are looking for an example of that first period, it is the Benedictine movement. What is religious life? Religious life for those first seven hundred years of the Western church is first and foremost a community of persons who have come together and Review for Religious pledged themselves to a life of poverty, a life of celibacy, a life of prayer and contemplation done in community. Why is it so important that it be done in community? Well, there are two versions of St. Athanasius's Life of Anthony of Egypt. We do not know which is the real one--whether the shorter one is due to somebody's cutting it down after Athanasius died or whether the longer one includes stuff that somebody added after his death. But the longer one, whoever wrote it, has a striking comment. It says: "Anthony went out to the desert to lead a life of radical devo-tion, deep prayer, and obvious poverty, and in doing so he became a source of wonder. But, when a community of others gathered around him, then he became a sign." That is a very perceptive comment. Living out your life in a radical gospel way makes you a source of astonishment, but what validates you as a sign to the church is that you can do this in a community. Let me put this another way (much less eloquently than the author of the longer life of Anthony does): It is possible to be poor, chaste, obedient, and nuts. We all know that. What guarantees that you are poor, chaste, obedient, and sane? Your ability to live with other people without either killing them or being killed by them. The community is what validates the vows. So this idea of living in community is very important and was very important in the Benedictine tradition from its outset. Clearly there are multiple variants of the monastic ideal throughout those seven hundred years, but that is the image of religious life that dominates the first stage. What is religious life? It is a community of people who come together to live lives of poverty, of celibacy, of devotion and prayer and contempla-tion- and often study too--and who do it in community. That is religious life. That reality has something brand-new added to it in the middle of the 12th century, and for a very practical reason. A whole new class of people emerges in Western Europe in the 12th century: the urban poor. One of the things that marked the end of the ancient world was the collapse of cities in Western Europe. In the early Middle Ages, society is essentially rural, A whole new class of people emerges in Western Europe in the 12th century: the urban poor. Janualy-February 2000 2 Himes ¯ Returnin~ to Our Ancestral Lands largely agricultural. There are no great cities for very obvious reasons: the barbarians. Let me remind you here, when we talk about the barbarians, not to picture Jack Palance with a mustache and a horned helmet swooping down to burn and pillage cities! That may have hap-pened along the way too, but, when we talk about the barbar-ians, all of us who are English, Irish, Welsh, or Scottish, Scandinavian, German, Polish, French, Spanish, Portuguese, Dutch, Belgian, Hungarian, Czech, Slovak, Sicilian, or northern Italian (from anywhere in Europe but a little piece of land stretch-ing from Naples to just north of Rome)--when we talk about the barbarians we are ta!king about grandma and grandpa. The bar-barians are our ancestors. As they moved into Western Europe, as the empire collapsed, these ancestors of many of us were not stupid. They knew stuff. They knew it takes a lot out of you to burn and pillage. A really good pillage takes a lot of energy. You are not going to waste your time burning and pillaging little one-horse towns. You are going to burn and pillage big cites--that is where the loot is to be got-ten. Since the inhabitants of the Roman empire in its last days were not stupid either, they quickly realized it is much safer living in the little towns than in the big cities: you are less likely to get sacked and pillaged. So, at the end of the ancient world, all over Europe, there is a sort of massive flight to the suburbs. Cities decline, lots of small towns spring up. In that world, how did the church care for people? Well, it was not a money economy. If you were going to found a parish, you were not going to do it with cash. Cash did not mean any-thing in the Middle Ages. Value was in land: it was the land's produce that could support a parish. So some wealthy donor says, "In this town I am giving this field to support the church. It can support two priests so that they can minister to the needs of the people of the town." The problem is, of course, that land is not easily transferable. At the start of the High Middle Ages, from around 1050 on, small towns began to decline in population as people moved back into big cities. In towns where once there were a hundred house-holds, now there were twenty, but there still were two priests for those twenty. Other towns were growing as centers. Where there used to be a hundred households, there were now five thousand households, but there was still only one priest, who was supported Review for Religious by the land donation from centuries before for that town. It is not easy to adjust parish boundaries and clergy resources. So there were growing numbers of people in the major cities of Western Europe who were largely unchurched. Nobody was preaching to them, nobody was teaching them, nobody was lead-ing them into the Gospels, nobody was celebrating sacraments for them. Who was going to tend to these people's needs? New reli-gious communities appeared, communities dedicated above every-thing else to the service of the urban poor. What do they need? Do they need evangelization? We preach. Do they need teaching? We teach. Do they need nursing? We nurse. Whatever they need, that is what we provide. If Benedict and Scholastica are the obvious figures of the first stage, Francis, Clare, and Dominic are the great figures at the start of the second stage, approximately I 150 to 1550. In the course of the Catholic reformation, both prior to and as a response to the Protestant reformers, the church realized that it was going to have to do much better regarding the challenges of a new world. One of the reasons that Luther had such an immense impact--besides the fact that he was immensely insightful--is that he wrote well. He wrote in German and, with the printing press available, turned out lots and lots of copies of relatively short books in the vernacular. Why was it that people like Cajetan and Eck did not have much luck responding to Luther? Because they were turning out thick books, in double columns, in Latin. Nobody was going to read them, even other professors, and so Luther had an impact, whereas initially much of the Catholic response did not. For this third stage we needed a new way to respond to people's needs. Although nobody calls it this, one of the ways was, in effect, the division of l~bor. What we needed was to streamline our styles of pastoral ministry. Instead of communities of people doing what-ever was needed, we were now going to have communities of peo-ple, both women and men, who specialized. We taught young women, we taught young men. We went to the foreign missions. We did nursing. We took care of the elderly. It became clear that different communities had unique apostolates. That model--and I think one can take the Jesuit~ as in many ways the example of this third stage, the embodiment of it--has lasted with great power and great success right down into our own lifetimes. Let me point out something that pertains ~o both the second and the third stages. Something enormously important shifted in Janua~:y-February 2000 Himes ¯ Returning to Our Ancestral Lands the course of the 12th century and, after more than eight hun-dred years, is still decisive for today's religious communities. It still affects what members do: we do this ministry to the urban poor. We do this particular kind of ministry for those who "need" it. What does this presuppose? It presupposes the situation during the second and third stages of Western religious life; it presup-poses people in need. It presupposes a world, and a church, in which the laity were essentially passive. Who was going to do the teach-ing, the preaching, the nursing, the caring, the evangelizing? It was going to be people in religious vows. The simply baptized members of the church--they were the recipients of ministry, they were not people who ministered themselves. An enormous shift happened when Vatican Council II called for a truly alive, energized, and ministerially responsible laity. Because of that shift, inevitably there was going to be some sort of identity crisis for religious life. If what makes me a religious is that I am one of group of people who perform such and such a ministry, and if nowadays other people who are not in vowed life, who are not celibate, and who are not living in community are doing the same ministry that I am doing, then what makes me a religious? Previously the identity of the religious--and I could make a similar case regarding the clergy--has been: "We are the people who do x, Y, and Z, and the laity are the people who have x, ¥, and Z done for them." The laity have been essentially passive recipients of ministry. The moment one begins to talk about the church as a community of people all of whom are called to some kind of ministry by baptism .(and not primarily by religious pro-fession or ordination), then everything shifts. That is why I suggest that we are at the end of the third stage and the beginning of a fourth stage. What does the fourth stage look like? Well, I have not a clu& Actually I may have a clue, but it is nothing more than a clue. Let me hasten to say that one of the occupational hazards of people who pretend to know something about the past is to think that they know everything about the future. With that caution in mind, I speak now with a good deal of self-suspicion, and you should hear it with even more suspicion. It is at least possible that a mark of the next great stage of development of religious life in the Western church--it may look more like the first stage than like stage two or three--is that there is a recentering on the nature of living vowed life in community rather than on any apostolate or mission of ours. That, perhaps, is Review for Religious the characteristic of the next stage of religious life. If that proves true, then a category that may be helpful for religious to consider more deeply and theologically is sacramentality. I am not referring to the great seven public and communal sacraments. I mean the much wider and in many ways much richer notion of sacrament, with a small s. And what is that sacrament called? What does sacramentality consist in? I give you Himes's handy-dandy definition of the sacra-mental principle. I have given it often, and it seems true. (After I hear myself say something long enough, it seems to me that it is true!) The definition of the sacramental principle is, I think, this: Whatever is always and every-where true must be noticed, accepted, and celebrated somewhere, sometime. Those things which are always true, those things which are constantly present to us, are almost always ignored. You do not pay attention to the oxygen in a room until it starts t6 go stale. While you have been reading this, you have surely been blinking periodically. Unless you have found my words altogether boring, you have not been counting your blinks. A couple of years ago ] got hit with a bout of Bell's palsy. I could not move anything on the left side of my face, and I could not blink. Throughout the day I had to periodically pull and hold my eyelid down, and tape it down at night. You become very aware of blinking when you cannot do it. When you can do it, when it takes care of itself, you do not pay any attention to it. In order to accept something that is there all the time and make it effectively present, to us, we have to learn to attend to it, to say yes to it, and to celebrate it. What is omnipresent to us? Well, God is: the self-giving of God. That self-giving of God we call, with the benefit of theological shorthand, grace: the self-gift of God's Trinitarian life outside the Trinity itself. It is everywhere. The whole world is just dripping with it; the whole thing is satu- A mark of the next great stage of development of religious life in the Western church is a recentering on the nature of living vowed life in community rather than on any apostolate or mission of ours. Himes ¯ Returning to Our Ancestral Lands rated with grace. But, precisely because that is true, it can be ignored. What is always present is seldom noticed. Whatever calls you, whatever person, place, thing, whatever sight, sound, taste, touch, smell, whatever experience leads you to he aware of, to attend to the reality of God's self-offering to you at that moment, to be able to say yes to it and to rejoice in it-- that is a sacra-ment. All told, how many sacraments are there in the world? How many things are there in the universe! That is what I mean by sacramentality. In that sense of the word--and this is where I am going to pick up the theme from Troeltsch in Part One--in that sense, religious life is a sacramental state within the church. We do not recognize that this is a sacramental state the way we recognize marriage as a sacramental state within the church. But it is in fact sacramental because, after all, religious are called to a deep sense of poverty, to a deep sense of responsibility toward and obedi-ence to the needs of those around us, to a responsible use of celibacy that recognizes our dependency on one another and on God. Is there anything there that everyone in the church is not called to by baptism? Why, then, do we need religious life so much? Because religious life "clearly, strikingly, astonishingly" (in the words of St. Athanasius's Life of Anthony) leads the church to see what the whole church is called to by baptism, to see it clearly and strikingly in a public and communal embodiment that helps people toward realization. Sacramentality is something that may be crucial for everyone's lively understanding of whht religious life is about and what its relationship to the church-at-large is and can be. How to Be More Sacramentally Aware How do you enliven this sense of sacramentality without repli-cating past forms? How do you rescue age-old values? How do you reclaim ancestral lands without simply going back to old build-ings or forms or structures? What can be done? I begin with a perceptive definition I learned from Jaroslav Pelikan, the distinguished historical theologian recently retired from Yale University. In his Jefferson Lectures at the University of Virginia a few years ago, he said: "We must be very careful to dis-tinguish between tradition ahd traditionalism. Tradition is the liv-ing faith of the dead. Traditionalism is the dead faith of the living." Review for Religious One is the continuing, living, vital faith that energized those who have gone before us; that is tradition. Traditionalism is faith main-tained by some among us that in fact is already ossified, entombed, embalmed; there is nothing left in it that is energizing. It is the dead faith of the living. How do we begin to reclaim the living faith of our ancestors? I know that this is going on in religious communities at this moment; it has gone on for a good deal of time. But I urge that it continue, and continue precisely in terms of sacramentality. How do we reflect on the meaning of the vows again? Is it possible that the fourth stage of religious life in the Western church into which I believe we are entering is more like religious life in the first stage than the second or third? As a word of preface, let me say that I have thought about this a good deal. Though I am not a religious, I do share with you a vow of obedience and I do share with you a vow of celibacy. I do not share with you living in community, although in fact I have lived in community. My brother Ken lives in a community of Franciscans with only six other people, and I lived in a house at the seminary in Huntington with fourteen other priests and sixty-five seminarians. I used to tell him: "You became a Franciscan and live in a rectory. I become a diocesan priest and live in a monastery." It is wonderful how God moves things around! The thing that has led me to think about this most is the vow I do not have, the vow of poverty. I find that the things I have vowed are not something I have to think about. I know what obe-dience means. The bishop calls me up and says, "I want to see you about doing x, Y, and Z." And I. say, "Okay, bishop, let me come and talk with you." There is'a structure to that. I do not have to get up in the morning and think: What does it mean to be obedi-ent today? That is taken care of. I do not have to think about what it is to be celibate. I know what means: that is taken care of. There is a structure to that too. What is not structured for me is poverty, and so it is a real problem. What does it mean for me as a university professor to talk Much as been written about poverty in recent years that is very powerful, but it is useful rhetorically more than actually real. Januat3~-Febrtta~y 2000 Himes ¯ Returning to Our Ancestral Lands about poverty when I do not have a vow of poverty? How, then, as a baptized member of the Body of Christ, do I incorporate poverty? That is a big issue, and I have thought about it. This is my pref-ace to what I am now going to say about the three vows. Much as been written about poverty in recent years that is very powerful, but it is useful rhetorically more than actually real. It assumes that poverty is about identification with the poor--I am convinced that it is not. I expect some people to say "Oh, but it is.t" I wish it were, but I do not think so. My reason is this: There is an enormous difference between my deciding "I will not eat today" and actually having nothing to eat. If I decide not to eat (even though there are tons of food in tt(e refrigerator) because I want to identify with the poor by going to bed tonight with an empty stomach, I am forgetting something. For me there will be break-fast tomorrow morning, but overnight the poor are thinking: "I would love to have eaten today and I couldn't, and God knows whether I will get anything to eat tomorrow morning." These are simply totally different experiences, and I think it is nothing but self-serving romanticism to say, "Isn't it wonderful that we have identified with the poor!" I think that is just false, and I think it is dangerously false because it is overly romantic. 20 What Is Poverty? I turn to my brother's tradition. Who is the wisest one to have talked about poverty in the Western church? Francis of Assisi. Nobody is wiser on it than Francis. And I suggest that what Francis saw is very much in a line that starts with Augustine. But Francis saw its implications in brand-new ways. What is the most famous line from Augustine? What line does everybody know from St. Augustine? "You made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You." (A pastor in a diocese not far from here famously used to get up on any saint's feast and say, "Ah, today we remember St. Cuthbert of Auxerre, who is famous for that wonderful statement of his, 'You made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless . '" According to this pastor, every saint had said it--or must have said it.) Well, what is Augustine saying? He is saying that all crea-tures- not just all human beings, please notice, but all creatures-- have one deep characteristic. That was what Francis saw so clearly. That deep characteristic is this: At our core, at our heart, we are Review for Religious empty. There is hunger, there is restlessness. The characteristic human experience is "Yeah, yeah, yeah, but more!" You have never known a human being who did not want more. The totally satis-fied, totally fulfilled human being is dead. If you want to see a totally filled human being, drop into your local cemetery. The fact is that what marks us as human beings is endless restlessness, end-less hunger--more, more, more, more, more. I say sometimes to students: "If somebody you know ever says, 'I have everything, I am everything, I know everything, I have experienced everything that I could possibly want, I am perfectly and totally satisfied,' ask the person this: 'Would you like it to last?'" If you had everything, what you would want is more time. There is never a moment when we do not want. That is the characteristic of being a creature. This is what Francis saw and recognized as uniting us with all of creation. That is what Francis saw in the mystical marriage with Lady Poverty, and it is what motivates the Canticle of the Sun. V~y is it Brother Sun and Sister Moon? VVhat is it that makes the moon and the sun, earth and water and air and fire, what makes everything my brother and sister? The fact that we all are marked by one great family resemblance: we are all poor. We did not make ourselves. We are all ultimately dependent. Nobody is fulfilled. If that is true, then poverty is what unites us with all other creatures. If that is so, then I suggest that poverty is the key value in the vows. My own reading of the relationship of the vows is that there are not three. There is one, and two further explications. The cen-tral vow is poverty. Celibacy and obedience are ways of being poor. But poverty is the central one. And the point about poverty is: It is not a social condition first of all, it is not an economic condition first of all. First of all, it is metaphysical; it is what makes you you. To embrace poverty publicly is to embrace, publicly, being a human being. Being poor is being human publicly. It is to embrace the human condition. It is to recognize that there are radical limits on me, limits of time, ultimately. A time is going to come when I will breathe out and think "Gee, I'd like to breathe in"--and it will not happen. There is going to come a time when I will say, "I would like just to get to tomorrow morning," and there will not be time for me to get there. There are limitations on time, there are limitations on energy, there are limitations on strength, there are limitations on courage, there are limitations on wisdom, there are limitations on knowledge. Ultimately I have to look at that and say, "And it is a good thing! I embrace it." Poverty is central. Januao,-Februa~y 2000 '-3! Himes ¯ Returning to Our Ancestral Lands Celibacy is a way of saying that very publicly. I told you that I think there is an overly romantic element in much that has been said about poverty in recent years. I think a huge amount of fatu-ous slop has been written about celibacy. I think that much of what has been done on celibacy in recent years is the most patent non-sense. We have all sorts of stuff saying it is perfectly possible to be celibate and a completely fulfilled and happy man or woman. Junk! The fact is that 99.999 percent of the human race has found, does find, and presumably always will find that the most significant relationship in their lives is being someone's spouse and someone's parent. If I come along and say: "Well, I am no one's spouse and I am no one's parent, and it does not matter a hill of beans. I am just as happy as can be. I am just as fulfilled as you can get. What 99.999 percent of the human race thinks is so important really is not important at all"--well, that is arrogance, stupid arrogance. The whole point of celibacy is, of course, that you are unfulfilled. But, if you can be publicly unfulfilled and still be an intelligent, free, responsible, loving, brave, wise, concerned human being, then your life suggests that maybe "fulfillment" is not what human-ity is about. Your life is a public witness to the fact that unfulfill-ment is what is characteristic of being a human being. To go around saying "Oh, we're all fulfilled" is to make hash of the whole of the Franciscan tradition. It is to make nonsense of Augustine's restless heart. Manifestly the human race is unfulfilled, and so, when some-body says "Here I am, a publicly vowed celibate," he or she loudly proclaims: "I am unfulfilled, and that is okay. We are all unful-filled. I am just publicly noting the fact. I am a reminder, a clear picture, of the fact that you are as unfulfilled as I am. I am just publicly acknowledging that fact in a particularly striking way." The same thing is true with obedience. Obedience has nothing to do--or almost nothing--with the submission of one person's will to another person's will. That is anti-Christian thinking. The whole point of our relationship to the will of God is that I do not subject my will to God's will. I discover that God's will really is my will, that God's will is what undergirds my will. It is not a question of "Gee, I want this and God wants that and, by hook or by crook, I've got to pull myself around to want what God wants." That is a misunderstanding of God; that is a destructive picture of God. What does obedience mean? Above everything else, it means poverty in the face of facts. Obedience is, above everything else, a responsibility to what is: not what you would like, not what you had Review for Religious hoped, not what you wanted, not what you wished, not what you feared, but what is. I used to tell my students that, when you are talking about obedience to a superior, when you are talking about obedience to a bishop, the point is this: You are newly ordained and you get assigned to a parish. You are just the best thing that ever happened to kids. John Bosco looks like a piker. This is just the best thing that ever happened to teenagers. You are gung-ho to work with kids. It happens, however, that at the moment you are needed in this parish. There are not a lot of kids; younger fam-ilies have moved out; it is, in fact, a very elderly neighborhood. If you say, "Well, I just don't work with the elderly, I work with kids," you are being disobedient. You are not being disobedient to the bishop, you are not being disobedient to the pas-tor, you are being disobedient to facts. The fact is that these are the people who are here. You are the person on the spot--serve them! If you find yourself saying inside, "Well, you know, I am not really good at serving them," let yourself hear them saying "Yeah, I know. We've noticed." And then notice that you are the only one there. If the Titanic is going down and you are the nearest ship, do not say, "Well, you know, it would crowd breakfast so terribly to take on these other passengers." The ship is going down. Get over and save them! That is obedience to facts, and it is poverty. It is the recogni-tion that, hey, there are some things I am good at and some things I am not good at. Sometimes I am in positions where what I am not good at is what is most necessary. Then I have to give it my best even though it is clear that I am not going to do very well at it. I may also have the responsibility to say, "Somebody else in here might be a lot better at this than I am." But until that happens I am here, and I will get to work. That is real obedience. It is, once again, poverty. It is a recognition of the limitations of our histor-ical placement. I have been given this time and this place. I would have been just a knockout in the 18th century. In the 18th cen-tury I would have been just wonderful. But there was a problem: I was not begotten until the middle of the 20th century. So, no matter how great you would have been in the 18th century, you What does obedience mean ? Above everything else, it means poverty in the face of facts. January-February 2000 Himes * Returning to Our Ancestral Lands were not there. Likewise, you might be the best thing that could ever happen to the church of the 24th century. But, unless you have really good genes in your family, you are not going to be there. This is the only century you have; this is the one you bet-ter relate to even though it might not always be the one you wanted. That is the experience of poverty. Celibacy, obedience--both variants of poverty! Why is it so important that religious life seize that value of poverty and be a sign of it for the whole church? Because it is the experience of being a human being. It is the deepest truth about us as human beings. It is what the rest of us, in all sorts of ways, come to grips with or else try to hide from ourselves. Amid all these human beings, there should be communities of women and men who say in the strongest, clearest, and most striking way: "I, too, am poor, and it is good. This is what it is to be a human being." Now, how do you convey that truth to people? Well, it will he different from person to person, from community to com-munity, and from place to place. You cannot replicate the past. If you had known Dominic or Francis, Scholastica or Teresa of Avila, if you had known Ignatius or Vincent de Paul or Jane Frances Fr~myot de Chantal, perhaps they would have said, "I never had a disciple as good as this." But, you see, they never said that. You are not a contemporary of theirs; you are a con-temporary of mine. Francis of Assisi does not need you, but I do. So do not try to relate to Francis of Assisi or Jane Frances, but make a good attempt of getting to me. When, by retaining or recovering important values we "return to our ancestral lands," we are not thereby called to sow the ances-tral crops. Ancient lands can bear new crops, and new crops are needed for a new generation of people. I predict that, in the next fifty years, religious life is going to experience an explosion of growth. It may look different than we expect. Some older com-munities may die or merge--or meld into newer communities. Not every community will experience an explosion, but there will be an explosion of people living publicly vowed lives in community as sacramental signs to the rest of us of how the Christian tradition understands genuine humanity. I predict that sects, in Troeltsch's meaning, will be powerfully witnessing to the church so that the church is not allowed to become a hidebound and ossified insti-tution. This explosion will happen because the church could not survive without it--and we have the Lord's word that the church Review for Religious will survive. But I do not know how it will happen. The how ques-tion has never been the forte of the church, which, in its own poverty, only just manages to keep going. These observations are those of a passionate religious watcher. In some new ways, religious life will still be there in the future, for the church needs you. I have no doubt that, if only I could live thousand years longer, I could write a whopping good book about that future. Questions for Reflection and Discussion 1. What elements of religious life have been eclipsed in recent years and need to be reclaimed? 2. How do we reclaim values without retreating to past forms? 3. Where do our particular religious communities fit in the development of vowed life in the church's history? 4. How can we establish community in religious life when the community is not its own center? Blink I like to think of thegn sledding, graceful, flying down some swift hill, the white in their hair only snow, bright gloves flashing in the wind above the aluminum board not as this aged couple she scarved in purple, taking careful steps in ankle boots, clutching a brown grocery bag, he shuffling two steps ahead, the long cool silver ironing board tucked beneath his arm. Doretta Cornell RDC January-Februmy 2000 religious mission JOHN KLEIN Transforming Mission: A Spirit of Adventure On 22 March 1999 a headline appeared in the New York Times reading: "Voyage End Brings Crew Back Down to Earth." The article recounted the voyage of the first two balloonists to circle the globe, aboard Breitling Orbiter III. The trip lasted nineteen days, twenty-one hours, and fifty-five minutes and covered a total of 29,054.6 miles. During their news conference one of the adventurers, Dr. Bertrand Piccard, a Swiss psychiatrist, reflected upon their experience: "It was not a matter of setting records; it was a fabulous metaphor of life. To try is the only way to survive." His compatriot, Brian Jones, a former member of the British Air Force, added: "We are not heroes. We just proved that dreams could come true.m Later in the interview Dr. Piccard admitted that the journey posed significant risks, struggles, and sacrifices. Confined in their 16.5 foot-by-10 foot capsule, freezing cold, and often lack-ing water, the adventurers nearly abandoned their effort several times. Piccard said, "When one of us was about to give up, the other would support him." This Magellanesque journey offers us a fabulous metaphor for our lives as religious leaders. Like Piccard and Jones, we find ourselves on a journey demanding John Klein FMS gave this presidential address at the August 1999 assembly of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men (CMSM). His address is Marist High School; 1241 Kennedy Boulevard; Bayonne, New Jersey 07002. Review for Religious that we move beyond preconceived boundaries, one that forces us to tap into unsuspected personal and corporate resources, one that calls us to risk and trust and sometimes upset the status quo, one that invites us to dream of new possibilities and challenges, one that beckons us to move from the center to the margins. Religious leadership today is truly an adventure extending Jesus' mission to proclaim the kingdom and to make God known and loved. Mission is a description of Jesus, the Son of God, who invites us to be adventurers and dreamers with him. The daily realities of our work, however, do not permit us to escape being administrators, managers, fund-raisers, therapists, legal experts, and arbiters. Who has the time and the energy to dream and to participate in an adventure? How can we become "unstuck" and move forward the renewal of religious life? The church historian John W. O'Malley SJ has said, "It is more diffi-cult to reform a religious order than to found one.''2 Our expe-rience during the past thirty years certainly confirms this. Nonetheless, our role as leaders offers us a wonderful opportu-nity to influence and design the future, remembering that this project of religious life is God's work and not ours. With hope, like Jacob waking from his dream at Bethel, we can say of our time and our struggles, "Surely the Lord is in this place and I did not know it" (Gn 28:16). With confidence, like St. Paul in his Second Letter to Timothy (1:6-7), we can remind each other that "God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but rather a spirit of power and of love." It is in this spirit that we can face the future and set out on an adventure not of our design, but God's. John Gardner in his book Self-Renewal offers a sobering pre-diction if we opt to respond otherwise. He says: "If people are apathetic, defeated in spirit, or unable to imagine a future worth striving for, the game is lost.''3 We cannot lose this game. On the contrary, we need to see our present situation as opportunity. We need to articulate a high level of expectations for ourselves, the members of our congregations, and the institutions we own and sponsor. We are called to do this in a culture that does not share our values, but rather extols individualism, tends to privatize reli-gion, and fails to engender a true sense of community. Archbishop Rembert Weakland recently highlighted this challenge, asserting that "one of the most difficult pastoral tasks of our day., that has challenged the renewal at every turn is precisely how to overcome the cultural bias of our age toward the individualistic. ''4 Janumy-February 2000 Klein ¯ Tran~fomning Mission Our religious communities have not remained immune from these societal influences. On the contrary, society has tended to co-opt us and has led many religious to make private accommo-dations to religious life. This cripples our mission, diminishes a sense of esprit de corps and solidarity, and saps our energy and possibilities for the future. "The Nygren and Ukeritis study already warned that, despite their language of prophecy and sol-idarity with the poor, many religious in the United States may be far more accommodated and assimilated into the dominant cul-ture than they like to believe. The penchant for individualism and self-fulfillment so characteristic of this culture has found a ready berth in many religious communities. Self-determination has eroded communal and institutional commitments.''s Given this situation, how are we as religious leaders called to respond? I believe that we can discover the answer by reflecting on the example that Jesus provides us. The Letter to the Hebrews (12:2) refers to Jesus as the pioneer. He is the one who goes before us to offer the example and then returns to us to point the direction and to reassiire us that he is always present with us. Jesus is the adventurer calling us to join with him in mission and to fan the embers our commitment into a flame spreading new life and hope. Like us, Jesus found himself engaged in mission, searching for ways to engender new life, struggling and sometimes discour-aged with a disparate band of disciples, and confronting a society at best indifferent to his values and vision. How did he respond? What was and is Jesus' mission? How did he endeavor to foster new life? How did he pursue his mission and commitment? How did he accomplish the transformation of the lives of his disciples and the many others whom he touched as well? By probing these questions we will begin to perceive ourselves as part of a unique adventure that will transform our mission and foster new life. However, we do not probe the questions alone. This effort must be a collaborative and communal one. While we do not need everyone in our province or congregation to participate in this effort, we do need a "critical mass" of people to share the adventure. Only this will move our mission and our group for-ward. "What we dream alone remains just a dream, but what we dream with others can become a reality.''6 If we willingly dream together in faith, then our mission will be transformed and we will have the confidence that our best years are ahead of us. In all of Review for Religious our efforts together, Jesus, the pioneer, presents the lens through which we can discern our course of action and catch a glimpse of the religious life of the future. This is particularly true in three aspects of his mission that challenge us today: Jesus' deep spiri-tuality and relationship to his Father, his commitment to mis-sion at the margins of society, and, finally, his formation of an intentional community of disciples to carry his mission forward. Our following his response in these areas will, I believe, offer the compelling ways through which we will discover our unique role in society and the church. Jesus appreciated better than anyone that to be in close, intimate relationship with God inevitably makes people countercultural and dis-tinctive. It places them in a dangerous situation, making them as disciples part of a cultural minority. This minority cannot help seeing the world and society through different eyes, the eyes of Jesus. This vision encourages those who follow Jesus to choose new life by loving the Lord, our God, heeding his voice, and holding fast to him (Dt 30:15-20). Seeing reality this way meant new life for Jesus also, for his profound spirituality caused him to turn society's values on their head and, in the process, made him a dangerous person. We see this clearly in Jesus' table fellowship. He ate with scribes and Pharisees, with the poor and destitute, with tax col-lectors and sinners. By breaking boundaries, risking disapproval, and "imaging" the reality of God for the people of his time, Jesus made his mission, the proclamation of the kingdom, tangible. It was in food-and-drink situations that he revealed the divine gifts of joy (Mt 9:15), pardon (Lk 7:47), salvation (Lk 19:9), and super-abundance (Mr 14:15-2 I). It is at table that we witness the trans-forming conversion of Zacchaeus, Jesus' example of servant leadership, and the opening of the weary disciples' eyes at Emmaus. It is therefore primarily at his table, at his Eucharist, where we religious will find new life for our mission. It is at his table that we will encounter him through the lives of sinners and outcasts, our brothers and sisters, realizing that the margin is our home too. In his message for the World Day of Peace, Pope John Paul II exhorted us to "recognize Christ in the poorest and the most marginalized, those whom the Eucharist--which is communion What was and is Jesus' mission ? Janualy-Februaly 2000 Klein ¯ Transforming Mission in the body and blood of Christ given up for us--commits us to serve. As the parable of the rich man, who will remain forever without a name, and the poor man called Lazarus clearly shows, 'in the stark contrast between the insensitive rich man and the poor in need of everything, God is on the latter's side.' We too must be on this same side.''7 The side of the poor and disenfran-chised is the side where the religious man and woman must be found. Whether or not we work directly with the poor, we can-not escape the imperative of seeing the world with the eyes of the poor. This attitude, then, will inform our prayer, our work, and our lifestyles. The Gospel of Luke reminds us that the sign that Jesus is "the one who is to come" is that the poor are having the Good News proclaimed to them. In this Jesus gave flesh to his kingdom and illustrated that the reign of God is now. Our mission as reli-gious leaders represents the continuing participation in his incar-nation. Our mission calls us to illustrate that economic and social boundaries are artificial, made by human hands. Our mission proclaims that, if "we truly want to see the glory of God, we must move downward with Jesus. This is the deepest reason for living in solidarity with poor, oppressed, and handicapped people. They are the ones through whom God's glory can manifest itself to us. They show us the way to God, the way to salvation.''8 To ignore the sorrows and needs of others is to ignore the flesh of Jesus and to deny the incarnation. For us to make the "option for the poor" a reality will mean a conversion of mind and heart. It is a conversion that will find its source in prayer, reflection, and Eucharist. It is a conversion that demonstrates itself through simplicity of lifestyle and sensi-tivity to those less fortunate than we. Too often we have claimed the adjectives prophetic and countercultural for ourselves. It would be far better that others attribute them to us after seeing the way we live and work and pray. They will do so if we make certain that our rhetoric and our reality coincide and that our lifestyles reflect charism rather than just personal choices. Johann Baptist Metz once wrote that "religious orders are a kind of shock therapy. ¯ for the church as a whole. Against the dangerous accommoda-tions and questionable compromises that the church . . . can always incline to, they press for the uncompromising nature of the gospel and the imitation of Christ. In this sense they ire the insti-tutionalized form of a dangerous memory within the church.''9 Review for Religious Our mission today is to be dangerous as Jesus was and to make Metz's description of us real. This mission is by its very nature a communal one, and I believe that new life for the mission of Christ will be found, not necessarily in endeavoring to enliven already existing local com-munities, but rather in forming new intentional communities within our groups. In addressing the obstacles to refounding a religious community, Gerald Arbuclde acknowledged that efforts to "move" or "change" a group inevitably encounter significant resistance. Hence, he says, "The new belongs elsewhere." These communities, similar to the one Jesus formed with his disciples, have mission at their center and heart. Mission conse-quently operates as their chief source of connectedness and energy. Members of an intentional community realize that they cannot minister to others outside unless they live in a community founded on inter-dependence and a mutuality informed by faith. This faith life sensitively balances the needs of the community and those of each individual and finds sharing of faith to be indispensable to its life. This inevitably leads to a high level of trust that allows mem-bers to challenge one another's behavior in light of a commonly accepted vision and goal. While these intentional communities meet some of the emotional, social, and intellectual needs of its members, they are in no way therapeutic support centers. An intentional community is "a group of religious living together who feel the need to be supported in their ministries and willingly commit themselves to develop a gospel-centered intimacy to be expressed in shared faith, ongoing conversation, and shared action."1° In short, an intentional community is one that has a clear and visible and easily identifiable way of life. Such a group offers the world what it does not find elsewhere: a community of faith, friendship, and mutual support engaged in an adventure larger than itself. In writing about his hopes for Dominican communities, Timothy Radcliffe OP, the master general, highlighted the impor-tance of such communities for the future of religious life. These groups, he maintained, carry within themselves seeds of new life. Communities similar to the one Jesus formed with his disciples have mission at their center and heart. January-Februaty 2000 Klein ¯ Transforming Mission "Unless a province plans the building of such communities, then it dies. A province with three communities where the brethren flourish in their Dominican life has a future, with the grace of God. A province with twenty communities where we just survive may well have none." it To say the least, we religious at the threshold of the new mil-lennium face significant challenges as we participate in Jesus' adventure. Allowing God to transform our mission and ourselves will not be a process devoid of risk and some pain. Nonetheless, to do otherwise would rob our religious families of the new life necessary to bring them into the future and, as a result, would put at risk our contribution to the mission of Christ. In the conclu-sion of Vita consecrata, the Holy Father asserts that religious "have not only a glorious history to remember and to recount, but also a great history still to be accomplished! Look to the future, where the Spirit is sending you in order to do even greater things" (VC §110). A real test of our faith and gospel hope is our belief in the truth of John Paul's words. Martin Heidegger once compared the journey of life to a person walking in a huge forest where it is pitch dark, where it is raining and thundering, and one has completely lost the way. There is a bolt of lightning and for an instant the way is clear. Then it is dark again. All one can and must do is keep going in the direction one saw illuminated by the lightning flash. This is our challenge and our opportunity: to keep going, to trust that God is faithful, to remember the way in the light of those key moments through which God intervenes in our lives. Most of our life we must move ahead in darkness, sustained in our faithfulness by what we once glimpsed when, if only for an instant, everything was clear.12 Notes ~ New York Times, 22 March 1999, p. 8. -' John W. O'Malley SJ, Tradition and Transition: H#torical Perspectives on Vatican II (Wilmington: Michael Glazier, 1989), p. 97. 3 Albert DiIanni SM, Religious Life as Adventure (New York: Alba House, 1994), p. 108. 4 Rembert Weakland OSB, "Liturgy and Common Ground," America 180, no. 5 (20 February 1999): 9. s Robert J. Schreiter, "Challenges and Directions of Religious Life at the Turn of the Millennium," Address given at the inauguration of the Center for the Study of Religious Life, 21 June 1998, p. 11. Review for Religious 6 Ronald Rolheiser OMI, "Religious Life in America Faces a Change of Epoch," paper prepared for the Inter-American Meeting in Toronto, May 1999, p. 13. 7 Pope John Paul II, "Message for the Celebration of the World Day of Peace," 1 January 1999, p. 21. s Robert A. Jonas, Henri Nouwen (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1998), p. 35. 9 Gerald A. Arbuckle SM, From Chaos to Mission: Refounding Religious Life Formation (Strathfield, N.S.W.: St. Paul's Publications, 1996), p. 11. ~0 Arbuclde, From Chaos to Mission, p. 15 I. " Timothy Radcliffe OP, Pastoral letter "The Promise of Life," 2 February 1999, p. 3. ~2 John Fullenbach, Prodaiming His Kingdom (Manila: Divine Word Publications, 1992), p. 190. The Joys of January Beautiful month of the cold, clean slate: nothing mars its pristine glare. Starlings stare, perched on empty limbs shaking in their purity. The air bears thoughts of ice. Wind cuts through whispers. Walls show us where twigs scrape messages: deliver words, deliver us: bend, blow beautifully, winter stems. Wake us. The dark recedes, we see our breath, a flickering. Light. Mary Kennan Herbert Janua~. -Febmtmy 2000 A. PAUL DOMINIC Evangelization as Religious Mission of Joy Spurely, in the Indian experience, joy has not been a strong oint in religious life, in fact or in principle. This came to me as a rude shock twenty-odd years ago during a chat with a couple of sisters. As I was leaving their place, one of them made a particularly religious sort of request: "Father, will you please pray for vocations to our congregation?" I replied at once, though with some inner hesitation, "Why pray? If you are all happy, the girls will simply flock to you!" When I said this, I did not know I was echoing the mind of Pope Paul vI revealed in his 1971 apostolic exhortation Evangelica testificatio (§55). I must not have impressed them, for one of them said to me later, "But you must know we are religious!" Though that was not a recent event, attitudes of this type do not change in a single generation--though I would like to be proved wrong. Incidentally, the rumor of joyless religious life is not an exclusively Indian phenomenon: most of the religious con-gregations here have been transported from the West. Why, the very fact that a paper on consecrated life as anointed with joy was read in 1998 in San Antonio, Texas, at the annual confer-ence of vicars of religious implies that even modern American religious are not above the need of awakening to joy in their life of consecration.' A. Paul Dominic SJ last wrote for us in November-December 1995. His address is Satyodayam; 12-5-33, S. Lallaguda; Secunderabad 500 017; India. Review for Religiota This sad state of affairs in religious life is a reflection of Christianity in general, which has been accused of joylessness by both Westerners and Easterners. Nietzsche, for instance, has ridiculed the claim of Christians to have been saved by Christ. If it were really so, he argues, why could they not look joyful instead of appearing so remarkably gloomy? The Indian Shree Rajneesh, quite celebrated in his way, has been no less categorical in his attack on Christian attitudes. "Christians say that Jesus never laughed!" he alleges, and counters: "Now this seems to be the ulti-mate in stupidity. Jesus . never laughed? Then who else can laugh? . . They have made his picture very sad-looking, long-faced, burdened. This is not possible. This is utterly wrong.''2 All this non-Christian aspersion may well serve as a goad, particularly for us religious, to discover or rediscover the characteristic joy of Christ and enter into it (see Mt 25:21 and 23) and thus be evange-lized, that is, "gladdened by the good news" of our redemption. The Oil of Gladness It is heartening to observe that, in the biblical experience, there is a joyous anointing, besides several others. This joyous anointing is bestowed on the righteous king, that is, the king who loves justice, producing the pleasure of the people without seeking his own fortune (Ps 45:3-8). Who can this joyously anointed king be but him whose very name is Christ, meaning, of course, "the anointed one"? He is the one who, as no other, can witness to his joy in this fashion: "I was beside the master crafts-man, delighting him day after day, ever at play in his presence, at play everywhere on his earth, delighting to be with the children of men" (Pv 8:30-3 I). If, by virtue of baptismal consecration, every Christian shares in the life of the joyously anointed Christ, what may we conclude about those consecrated further by religious profession? Being anointed with the oil of gladness is no doubt a charism person-ally received; it is, however, not to be enjoyed as a private pos-session, but to be ever passed on for the surprise enjoyment of others. If religious are genuine enough, they will necessarily make their anointing evident, for the joyous enhancement of others. Leading lives of contagious joy" because their God is the joy of their never ending youth, they will liberate the masses from their oppressed lives and lead them into the same joy. January-Febrnary 2000 Dominic ¯ Evangelization as Religious Mission of Joy All truly enlightened persons, whatever their religion, would share in this lofty, uplifting, and truly religious sentiment of theirs. People's innermost recesses would be affected, and there-fore the social fabric too. For instance, among the Hindu Tamil saints was Tayumanavar, who prayed out of the abundance of his holy joy: "That all should be happy is my one wish, Almighty One! This is the only thing I know!" The Christian ashrams here in India have, in proper inter-religious spirit, followed suit in earnest and have introduced, somewhere at the beginning of Lauds, the singing of the Sanskrit sloka "Lokah samasta sukhino bhavantu," which means "May all the world be happy!" This vision of joy, flowing to us from God and necessarily flowing to others from us, is certainly wonderful. How do we make this vision vivid to ourselves and transparent to others in a practicable, communicable way? The Religious Way of Joy The way to experience joy in God is, first and foremost, to enjoy our life, basically and paradoxically, in its human and of course ecological dimension. There God will be available, not absent. For one thing, where joy is there will be no room for complaining. Complaining is a root of the atheist's mindset (see Ph 2:14-15). Habitually complaining persons construe everything as wrong, in sharp contrast to the divine intention exhibited in creation and providence (see Gn 1 and Mt 5:45), and so they can-not subscribe to any belief in God. Even if they claimed to believe, their belief would be the result of some psychological or religious conditioning and so only superficial, if not spurious. Rajneesh warns against such joyless nominal faith, advocat-ing an increasing enjoyment of life as the way to find God-given joy in ourselves. He says: Any small thing is full of God! So love this life . Eat, enjoy the food, and let God come to you as a taste. Listen to music, get lost in it, and let God come to you as sound ¯ . . as harmony. Let God descend on you slowly, without any hankering to catch hold of him . Just open yourself as much as possible--to the trees, to the birds, to the rains, to the sun, to the sands¯ Open yourself wherever you are; absorb, and gratitude will arise . And you will not know towards whom this gratitude is arising. When you don't know towards whom., it is towards God) Review for Religious Does this not read like a poetic rendition of the Contemplation to Attain love offered by St. Ignatius at the very climax of his Spiritual Exercises (§§230-237) to train people to find the joy of God no less outside their retreat than in it? Again, does this not evoke the following bold and originally controversial remark of St. Paul? "If I partake with thankfulness, why should I be denounced because of that for which I give thanks? So whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God" (1 Co 10:30-31; see also Col 3:16-17). Again, does this not read like an expository commentary on the praxis and pronouncements of Jesus? He, whose mission was to make known the heart of God to humanity, did not speak explicitly about God as much as he spoke about the happiness people longed for. He assured them that they were des-tined for joy, and, to prove it, he went about doing good for them in ever sur-prising ways. He fed them in their hunger without being asked, and he sat-isfied them. In that way he led them to discover for themselves that it was God who fed them to their heart's content. He healed them of their many illnesses and gladdened them and in that way enlightened them about how God meant them to be healthy and happy. His teaching was new precisely in proclaiming that they were at the threshold of an altogether new blessedness, thanks to the unique intervention God was initiating in humanity. He declared a new law, the law of beatitude (see Mt 5:1-10), for all, but particularly for the poor, that is, for those who longed for blessedness (see Lk 10:23-24). All this would have been offensive to people who abided by their fixed religious ways without, however, conspicu-ous happy living. To those who made much of fasting, for instance, he declared himself against it unless times and seasons made sense of it and demanded it. Indeed, he approved of feast-ing before fasting, gladly characterizing himself as one who came in the spirit of God's new time, eating, drinking, and partying in marked contrast to his predecessor, and not fighting shy of the The way to experience joy in God is, first and foremost, to enjoy our life in its human and of course ecological dimension. .~anualy-Februa~y 2000 Dominic * Evangelization as Religious Mission of Joy nicknames "glutton" and "drunkard" that some hurled at him. Because he found the joy of God in feasting in God's name, he could also, paradoxically, find the God of joy while abstaining from any feast. Is it not quite revelatory, when we come to think of it, that the word feast denotes both a lavish meal (as at a wed-ding) and a periodic religious observance? Christ was persuaded . that God himself was feasting, and so he would urge people undertaking a fast to present an appearance of joy (Mt 6:16-18). Whatever delightful stories of God he told had invariably the magic spell of joy in life. The stories suggest that only those who have known the joy of a wedding feast, or a bumper harvest, or an unexpected catch of fish, or giving birth to a child, or finding a lost coin or son, or stumbling on a treasure, or seeing and being a child, and so forth, could understand and delight in God. They as much as say that anyone who has known none of life's ordinary joys would be unable to know, let alone enjoy, God in their life-- even though God, as the source of all other joys, is a joy well above life's mundane joys. So Christ's call to joy was constant and compelling, encouraging us to be open to unnoticed joys around us and then to greater joy: Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? . . . Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you--you of little faith? Therefore do no worry, saying, "What shall we eat?" or "What shall we drink?" or "What shall we wear?". Your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. (Mt 6:26-32) All who have known and enjoyed God thus in life will hope-fully carry this, their basic thrill of happiness, all through their life and will further develop their happy character through life's tasks, trials, and temptations. Anointing Others with Joy Like the birds of the air and the lilies of the field, the more we become what we are (namely, anointed with joy) by growing in the joy that abides in us from our looking at Jesus, the pioneer Review for Religious of our joy, the more we shall be able to anoint others with joy. Sensing this dynamic of joy, how does one move in this mission of joy (evangelization, translated literally)? Basic to any move in relation to others is openness to all so that all may have life. The joy within us, if genuine, will be free from all conditioning by others and will contrive to make every-one welcome indiscriminately. This is what Christ did. He who said "Let the little children come to me" in an age when they counted for little had much the same attitude of welcome towards all, Jew or gentile or Samaritan, Pharisee or Sadducee or rogue, man or woman, young or old, high or low, rich or poor, clean or dirty, learned or illiterate, virtu-ous or sinful, and so forth, irrespec-tive of all segregations prevailing in his day. When he did make choices, however, it was doubtless towards the poor of all sorts, showing compas-sion for the multitude that was like sheep without a shepherd, saying that he had come for sinners, not the virtuous, and that the Spirit had anointed him to bring good news to the poor, to prisoners, the blind, and the oppressed. And so they, the poor masses, who Jesus sadly foretold are with us always (more glaringly now than ever before), have the greatest claim on our mission of joy. How do we set about this privileged mission? Thefirst move must be to initiate or maintain solidarity with people in their joyless situation, following the incarnation's prin-ciple of bringing joy to the world. We need to be one with them as far as possible. Ideally, of course, we should be so much one with them that nothing differentiates us from them in sur-rounding society. Meanwhile every attempt we make in this direc-tion will be an opening of joy to the unfortunates with whom we seek to share our own joy. During my turn as chaplain at a home for the aged, the day I began eating with them at their own table (something they had never seen before) was a matter of undreamt-of joy for them, far more beneficial than my liturgical or homiletic performance. The ontological principle actio in distans repugnat is no less sociological and evangelical. When Jesus sent his disciples The joy within us will be free from all conditioning by others and will contrive to make everyone welcome indiscriminately. January-February 2000 Dominic * Evangelization as Religious Mission of Joy on mission, what was he doing but bridging the gap between the teaching tribe and the taught? In his clear instruction to them to stay and eat happily with their hosts, what was he aiming at but their insertion into their very midst? When he himself was at home in the company of the sick and suffering and sinful, what was he exhibiting but his identification with their milieu? The second move must be to respond to the felt desires of those whom we have chosen to serve foremost in the promotion of joy. The Bible has as much to do with this as with the worship of God (see Is 58:6-10, Am 5:21-24, Mi 6:6-8). However much we may have identified with various persons, we may be mistaken about their drives and urges. That is why we have not had in great numbers the likes of St. Peter Claver and Blessed Katherine Drexel in the history of slavery, or of Bishop Romero and Corazon Aquino (once president of the Philippines) in the much delayed popular struggle, or of Little Sister Madeleine of Jesus and professor-turned-preacher Peter Reddy pitching their tents on the fringe of society.4 To work today toward a better future, it would on our part be best if we had people spell out their desires and then responded to them. Though at times Jesus' benefac-tions were a surprise to the beneficiaries of them, often he led people to be aware of their needs and then proceeded to respond to those needs, and bring joy (see Mk 10:46-52, Jn 4:4-42, Jn 5:1-9, even Mt 20:20-23). Besides this, he was quick to sense and fill the deeper spiritual needs they felt in spite of, or along with, their physical or social ones (as in the cases of Mary of Magdala and Joanna, Bartimaeus, Zacchaeus, the Samaritan outcast, and the Gerasene demoniac). Unlike him was the North American priest working in a South American parish who, to his dismay, discovered from his old cat-echist that his people, whom he had raised economically to a sat-isfactory level, were leaving him for a newfound evangelical pastor because they wanted to hear the glad news of the gospel. The third move in our mission will be, therefore, to lay bare the hidden needs of the spirit, at whatever level people may be, and to bring them to a higher level that engages their own inner resources. There is a time and reason for attending to and filling their mate-rial needs, and also for sensitizing themto higher needs and, with the conviction learned from Jesus, inviting them to higher joy: "But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well" (Mt 6:33). Review for Religious Reality may seem to fly in the face of this assurance, but can-not negate it altogether. People like Paul, who by God's grace knew a deep joy in penury as well as in plenty (Ph 4:11-13), show the truth of Jesus' words. In declaring that God has a higher claim on people and fills a deeper need than ordinary earthly liv-ing makes them concerned about, Jesus was not being naive. Well aware of the problematic reverses of human life, he was aware too of the privileged reserves of the human spirit. And so he would train people in tested, mature happiness by his winning counsel: "Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. And even the hairs of your head are all counted. So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows" (Mt 10:29-31). This stance leads us to the fourth move, namely, to encour-age and fortify people caught in suffering to rise above it and emerge in joy. Would this work in life? It can and does, because it did in Christ's life. Even though all through his public life he encountered opposition from many quarters and faced threats to his life from authorities like Herod, he carried on his work with joyous determination and courage that were the mark of his unflinching faith in God. When his disciples were sorely troubled by his uncertain future, he reassured them emphati-cally: "Very truly, I tell you, you will weep and mourn, but the world will rejoice; you will have pain, but your pain will turn into joy" (Jn 16:20). He urged them to ask the Father for any-thing in his name and to count on receiving it so that their joy might be complete On 16:24). The fifth move will be to witness to the revelation of how exceptionally suffering people may anticipate their joy in their very suffering (as Jesus himself did), and not in spite of it. At the end of his life, when the worst of his fears were to overtake him, he made a celebration of his last meal, carried himself with joyous strength of an unusual kind, and imparted to his dis-heartened disciples his sure vision of their future mission of suc-cess with words of comfort: "I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete" (Jn 15:1 I). He concluded by asking the Father that his distraught disciples might have his own joy made complete in their very selves (Jn 17:13). From his personal experience he could witness to the joy of the persecuted poor, not only in principle by declaring them Janumy-Februal~ 2000 Dominic ¯ Evangelization as Religious Mission of ,yoy blessed (Mt 5:10-12), but also in practice by bringing public recognition to people who were quietly but surely joyful, such as the poor widow who made an offering to God of all her sav-ings with sure, spontaneous, though unglamorous, joy (Mk 12:41- 44). The most moving story of this kind that I know is this: A woman took a priest to her home to" show him a secret of hers. Hidden in a corner was her bedridden eight-year-old son, with the body of a child and the head of an adult, with a darting tongue like a snake's. Seeing the sight he groaned; but she did not hear it, for she was saying, "Father, I have looked after this child for eight years now. He knows only me. I love him very much. Almost no one knows about it." In speaking thus warmly of her son, she did not hesitate to speak happily about her God as well: "God is good. God is our Father.,,s The more such secrets are known, the more joy will abound on the earth! The sixth move in evangelization is to declare, after due dis-cernment, how the good and glad program of God for humanity is being carried out even at the social level. Christ began his min-istry of joy at Nazareth, making precisely such a discerned dec-laration to his townsfolk. More than Jesus' proclamation of the good plan of God for their welfare, what pleasantly surprised them was the accompanying announcement of its effectiveness then and there in the very workings of their society (Lk 4:21). All through his later ministry, too, he was intent on making peo-ple recognize the growing social implementation of the divine plan carried on through the mediation of works of gladness done by himself (Lk 7:18-22 and 11:20) and like-minded others, whether among his explicit followers or unattached admirers (Mk 7:1-9, 9:11-12 and 38-40, and 12:34; Lk 10:i0-11 and 18-19). In our evangelization, therefore, we need to be on the watch to dis-cern and broadcast the divine reformation and revolution willy-nilly taking place in the world, thanks to our cooperative works, small or big, and those of many, many others, done--in the spirit of the Servant of Yahweh--quietly, steadfastly, and effectively (Mt 12:19-21). Even as we rejoice and lead others to rejoice in the magnalia Dei present in contemporary society, we also know and cannot deny the ungodly contradictions that afflict our web of life covertly and overtly. The best move in this situation--and this is the seventh and last move in our task of joy--is to channel into our world the spirit of the Book of Revelation, namely, a mood of Review for Religious faith and hope: faith in God revealed in the great works of joy already experienced, and hope in God preparing greater works, of which our mind has not conceived but of which there has been an earnest within our experience. One of the most fervent expres-sions of such an experience is the ancient song that nevertheless sounds new: "Though the fig tree does not blossom and no fruit is on the vines, though the produce of the olive fails and the fields yield no food,.yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will exult in the God of my salvation" (Hab 3:17-18). Mary, Mission of Joy What is the Magnificat but the above ancient hymn sung in a new melody? Surprised by joy, Mary celebrates God in her new song for all his works of gladness wrought in her and her society of the lowly, down through the ages. She rejoices in her own deeds of happiness, too, which God inspired her to perform for the benefit of the lowly and indeed of all humankind. She inspires and urges all those interested in similar works to become part of the hopeful, joyful movement to which God gives increasing momentum for his glory and our bliss. Following her Son in all matters of life, she precedes us religious like a wise guide in all matters, even in our evangelical mission. Notes ~ See Review for Religious 57, no. 6 (November-December 1998): 605-620. 2 Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh, I Say unto You, Vol. 2 (Pune, India: Rajneesh Foundation, 1980), p. 172. 3 Rajneesh, I Say unto You, pp. 217-218. 4 Reddy (1895-1958), a convert, renounced his professorship in a Jesuit college in Tamil Nadu and became a pilgrim beggar and vagrant preacher. See J. Cherupallikat, Witness Potential of Evangelical Poverty in India (Immensee, Switzerland: Nouvelle Revue de Science Missionnaire, 1975), pp. 117-121. s See Leonardo Boff, The Lord's Prayer (Indore, India: Satprakashan Sanchar Kendra, no date), p. 88. January-Feblvtary 2000 finding God ROBERT % COSTELLO Discovering God in Gaps Joseph Cardinal Bernardin influenced millions of peo-ple. As I read accounts of his life and watched the tele-vision coverage of his death and funeral, I was intrigued by a paradox. Cardinal Bernardin wrote, shortly before his death in November 1996, that his last years were the best and worst of times. He said he loved being Joseph to his people and seeking to build bridges between diverse church elements. He told of struggling to free himself from a "need" for success, a "need" to avoid criticism; he told of struggling to trust. He said he was whipsawed by groups asking him to carry their diverse banners. Then came the shocking conspiracy to brand him for sexual misconduct. After displaying immense courage amid the harsh publicity, he gained a growing respect and influence during the slow onset of the cancer that brought his death. Joseph Bernardin's influence peaked in his vulner-ability to the plot to defame him, his care for his false accuser. His example suggests a paradoxical experience in leadership, one which raises engaging questions. Are there implications for church leaders in the cardinal's Robert T. Costello SJ, onetime professor of psychology at Rockhurst College and former provincial superior of his order's Missouri province, currently does retreat work at the Guelph Centre of Spirituality; Box 245, Station Main; Guelph, Ontario; N1H 6J9 Canada. Review for Religious behavior? Is there even a hint for a spirituality for others beneath the dramatic circumstances he found himself in? Several experi-ences of mine have suggested an answer. The Southdown Institute is a residential treatment facility for priests and religious and offers monthly workshops for provincials, diocesan chancellors, and council members return-ing for aftercare with former residents. Asked to be a party to those sessions while on staff, I found myself filtering their expe-riences through memories of previous ~:esponsibilities of mine. This led me to sense that Bernardin's curious enhanced power had meaning for other leaders in the church. The leadership participants spoke of their stress at having to make choices about subordinates while pulled between conflicting values and options. They had to decide between what was empathic and tolerant on the one hand and firm and objective on the other. So it seemed to them. I describe this situation as "being in a gap" between an objective managerial function and an empathic pas-toral inclination. It is as though there is no one to turn to when a decision must be made. The cardinal was in a contradictory sit-uation or gap between defending his personal reputation and addressing what he learned were the spiritual needs of his accuser. I believe that this experiential dilemma, this gap, is worth exploring. What is involved in a church leader's experience of the gaps in administration? What Is a Gap? I define the gap as the tension a leader experiences in choos-ing between opposing goods such as compassion and impartial-ity. Should one postpone a difficult decision until there is more information, follow an intuition, or get on with a community's organizational needs? I consulted journals to better understand a paradox I felt was present in gaps. I also shared my quandary with three peo-ple presumably well versed in gap pressures. A general's assis-tant said that the gap issue deals with a leader's spiritual sensitivity to find God in the stressful situations. An assistant to the late Pedro Arrupe likewise suggested that gaps involve the spiritual meaning one disc6vers in the ministry of leadership. The provincial of a large community recalled being pulled by uncertainty and yet needing to act with determination. These January-Februa~7 2000 Costello ¯ Discovering God in Gaps responses added to my interest in the paradox that unintended influence emerges when a leader experiences a "centrifugal" effect from weakness and strength. Church leadership is a hybrid role of prophet and executive, of inspirational guide and money manager, a role which is bound to involve the kind of gaps we are discussing. It is different from the role of a business or professional leader (Nygren and Ukeritis, 1993). Empathy is an obvious part of the job description, but so is resolute confrontation. Workshop participants at Southdown spoke of pride in their organization's history, joy in their work, but also pain in conflicted relations with members. They said the stress was to be patient and challenging with fragile personalities while remaining focused on pressing tasks like building commu-nity consensus. One participant recalled that a lawyer's advice about a personnel issue seemed heartless but persuasive. Such circumstances required taking valuable time to address inappro-priate behaviors, being supportive of the person but still pursu-ing larger organizational issues. The research data of Nygren, Ukeritis, et al. (1993) broad-ened my notion of the gaps church leaders encounter. The authors uncovered nearly a dozen pressures which both pull and restrain religious leaders. For example, there is a strain between cultural individualism on one hand and the gospel values calling to relationships on the other. They wrote that leaders should be partners in the process of renewal, not initiators. Leaders also needed to establish mutual relationships. Their research found that generosity in some members was being eclipsed by self-pre-occupation. They noted that fewer religious espoused a prefer-ential option for the poor because of responding to personal calls for self-determination, making assignment difficult. This litera-ture, however, did not address an aspect of the leader's experi-ence I sensed in the life of Cardinal Bernardin and recalled, in a way, from my own years as a provincial. I found myself curious about his power. Eventually I had a clearer sense that there were unique tensions or gaps in the power differentials of leaders and community members. I originally had an unexamined, even patriarchal, conception of power: it produces effects. Thus the religious leader buys or sells property, approves vows. She can influence events in for-eign countries. Power makes things happen for individuals and a community and can be a unilateral influence. I also mistakenly Review for Religious suspected that leadership's authority was in the office or person. I believed that ideally Bernardin's considerable power would leave him unaffected if he exercised it adroitly. In .other words, good leadership could, should, and would produce a win-win result. I recalled, though, having nagging doubts after making some deci-sions. Those are what I was coming to recognize and identify as my gap experiences. A second conception of power grew out of curiosity about how the cardinal remained so influential aJ~er the conspiracy to besmirch his reputation collapsed. There was power and influence in how he allowed himself to be unaf-fected. I could understand people admiring his humility, but the pro-found impact his dying had on people puzzled me because I thought media frenzy would stain his integrity and reputation. I finally saw that there was power in how he allowed himself be affected. Power was being both active and passive, doing and receiving. When a Southdown workshop participant recalled a member's death from AIDS and the scandal which developed, I found his empathic reaction powerful. Gradually I saw that this second conception of power was a pas-sive reality that makes church leadership both personally demand-ing and spiritually challenging because church structure expects spiritual meaning to be acknowledged. Authority, then, seemed somehow to be a mutual influence. As the publicity swirled about him, Bernardin's stature seemed to increase with each gentle assertion, of his innocence and his belief that somehow the truth would appear. He pressed on with his plan to develop greater harmony in the Catholic Church of the United States while continuing to empathize with his accuser. He was in a wrenching gap. After he was exonerated of sexual impropriety, he threw himself into work only to be diagnosed With terminal cancer, but that is another story and a different stressful situation. Nygren, Ukeritis, et al. say that leaders viewed their source of power as residing either in themselves or in others. A leader who assumes personal authority is able to be assertive, while a Church leadership is a hybrid role of prophet and executive, of inspirational guide and money manager. January-February 2000 Costello * Discovering God in Gaps leader who considers the source of power to be in others becomes more interdependent or tentative. Note here that these sources of power are not mutually exclusive and inevitably result in the internal struggles (gaps) that are at issue here. For example, a leader who stands on his or her own authority and is objectively assertive in dealing with members may generate resistance and be labeled autocratic. A leader who sees his or her power as derived from others can become paralyzed by members who disagree and resist consensus. A conception of passive power I found most enlightening was that of Bernard Loomer (1976). He described it as relational power. His concept helped me understand the paradox of Cardinal Bernardin: giving and receiving influence. This kind of. power is not an either/or capacity, like deciding to act or not act in a certain way. With Loomer's guidance I will digress on two faces of power: Power results from being influenced and Power preserves rela-tionships. Power as being influenced is not a contradiction. One workshop participant spoke of selling a building that had great symbolic value for her community and openly sharing the pain of it, thus leading the community to "get through it." A second par-ticipant spoke of compassionately confronting the stony silence of a member who violated a fiduciary relationship. Such gap expe-riences are clearly intense--but how are they powerful? The Challenge of Gaps Gaps challenge leaders to expand in "size," that is, to make room in their minds and hearts for opposing realities, such as the limits of human adaptability juxtaposed with situational demands. Gaps stretch leaders, and the power is displayed in the manner in which they embrace what is needed but only possibly achievable. Gaps pull for courage and commitment to the uncer-tain benefit of another, and this edifies and empowers. Cardinal Bernardin exercised power by being mortified on CNN over the accusation thrown at him of sexual abuse. He gent-ly absorbed the humiliation of being asked on television if he was sexually active. He also showed the size of his heart by refusing to countersue his accuser, while at the same time working (in what must have seemed another world) to build consensus among divergent elements in the church. Size is prodigal power because Review for Religious it demonstrates that stress is absorbed for the uncertain benefit of others. The cardinal's power was shown also by his refusing to unleash a legal assault on the conspirators with his available resources and by his believing that this conspiracy could not crush him. Size deals with the interior authority of the person; I find it godlike. A second face of power is manifest in someone who actively preserves relationships. In Loomer's view here, power is the capacity to sustain the mutuality of giv-ing and receiving. Individuals with per-sonal problems often refuse .such mutuality by erecting rigid boundaries as a way of securing whatever power they have. Bernardin's relational power consisted in the months of effort he spent trying to establish a vulnerable connection with his accuser, not in any brandishing of his status, with its vast legal resources that would only have cre-ated a wider gulf. In the end, both men contributed to and were nourished in the relationship because of thee inequalities of power. This was for me a surprising real-ization: one of the greatest influences anyone can have on another is being influenced by that person. Therein lies the power available in gaps. As I spent time musing about this issue, I came finally to a new understanding of some of my leadership experience. I grasped that my deep pain over the shrinkage of religious life was sad-ness over others' "poor discernment" or "lack of courage": "If only those departing had consulted more astute advisors, they could have fallen out of love and remain and resolve their issues" ¯ . . "If only they had more grit, things could be as they were-- and we have such need of their gifts!" I was helpless in the face of diminishment, but also hopeful there could be unimagined surprises in it. And yet I conceived these gap experiences as noth-ing more than stress due to my personal limitations. Cardinal Bernardin believed that meeting his accuser just might set the man free. He actually went to the man, faced his understandable resentment, brought about reconciliation while pressing on with the archdiocese's business. That demonstrated Gaps pull for courage and commitment to the uncertain benefit of another, and this edifies and empowers. Jannary-Februa~y 2000 Costello ¯ Discovering God in Gaps his size. The cardinal seemed detached from the scandal, and it appears his anchor was in spiritual meaning he attached to this ordeal. He "knew" the truth would appear, that he was innocent and it was possible somehow to be vindicated. He recalled that Jesus pledged his life in the interest of others in the face of their mis-understandings and abandonment. This was the quintessential experience of absorbing the stress in a gap for the benefit of a dream or a commitment. It was relational power. The paradox I sensed in Cardinal Bernardin's life connected with two other men whose conversions influenced me: C.S. Lewis and Ignatius Loyola. Lewis wrote that as a child he was "stabbed" by intense feelings of joy. He seemed obsessed with recapturing this experience and spent years trying to re-create it by exploring the riches of the arts and nature. He suspected he was trying to cook up emotional thrills. After years of frustration in this quest, he concluded he was seeking the wrong quarry. He had confused the affective experience of joy with its object. The sought-after emo-tion was only a cheap reminder or a footprint of a presence. An extraordinary realization. There was no other answer because all his introspection dissatisfied him until he accepted that the value of joy was in its object, in something else, in a presence--in God. While admitting I am on uncertain ground, for me Ignatian detachment means that in leadership as well as life we must hold ourselves in a kind of balance before all things, insofar as we have a choice. In the present context, whether a gap ended with pos-itive feelings would not be the issue; rather, it would depend on which alternative led the cardinal to greater self-donation and compassion. This detachment, no matter how experienced inter-nally, calls forth a more loving response to life's circumstances, which is a presence even if experienced as stress. In my view, this interpretation describes the experience of gaps religious leaders often have when detachment produces negative feelings which demand that they increase in size. My mistake was to attribute stressful feelings to the "cost" of leadership, nothing more. I had focused on my experience of stress, not its object. I think, as well, that Ignatius considered the actual feeling in spiritual consolation to be unrelated to a venture's success or failure. This was enlightening in the face of how hard it is to associate the stress or occasional bitterness in gaps with anything like God's confirming presence. I had supposed that God is sup-posed to be present in consolation (involving joy), not in uncer- Review for Religious tainty or regret (due to my painful limitations). I recall a con-soling sense of satisfaction after a community meeting that went well--who would not feel deep joy in a win-win situation? But sit-uations of angry conflict that emphasized one's own poverty in coping with it seemed altogether different, as they did for par-ticipants at the Southdown meetings. As I was learning, though, Ignatian consolation can coexist with stress and uncertainty when there is a conviction of possible benefit for others. The conflicted stress that people in leadership positions experience seems to be located between what is possible for them and what is unimaginable. Leadership routinely deals with possibil-ities and constraints in people or situa-tions, and so gaps are inescapable. My own experience and comments of others at workshops convince me that Ignatian detachment and consolation give these gaps further meaning: gaps are a time of the Spirit's presence in the stress. Ignatian consolation is an affective experience directed toward God and the world and away from self, an experience that can be stressful--as when one hopes that one's own experience of a difficult interpersonal exchange may just possibly be for the good of the person and the situation. No person in history staked as much as Jesus on the merest possibility that fidelity to his convictions could be redemptive for people, notwithstanding experience to the contrary. The stakes were so high because one side of the gap meant Jesus could be deluded while the other side presented only a flimsy possibility that the kingdom he desired would ever eventuate. The stake seemed to involve the exhilaration of wagering it all, staying in the gap, believing and hoping in the possible. From this perspective, the continuing power of Jesus is the unbounded size he mani-fests because there is room in his heart for all. More humbling than finding oneself in such a gap is a sus-picion that some leaders get about themselves. They wonder whether they seek to walk this way of possibility or rather are sought by God to walk it. In my reflection I admitted, without comprehending why, the possibility of their being sought. And Ignatian consolation can coexist with stress and uncertainty when there is a conviction of possible benefit for others. January-February 2000 Costello ¯ Discovering God in Gaps that makes all the difference when they make their stake to walk the way of possibility to the end, because they believe this service will be redemptive., for someone. Just like Christ's stake. References Bernardin, Joseph Cardinal. The Gift of Peace. Chicago: Loyola Press, 1997. Lewis, C.S. Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life. New York: Harcourt Brace, 1956. Loomer, Bernard. "Two Conceptions of Power." Process Studies 6, no. 1 (Spring 1976). Nygren, David J., CM, and Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ. "The Religions Life Futures Project: Executive Summary." Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 6-51. Nygren, David J., CM, Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ, et al. "Religious- Leadership Competencies." Review for Religious 52, no. 3 (May- June 1993): 390-417. Ordinary Time Hoarfrost ages the discarded Christmas trees. Fog mutes the soul, and dampness chills the heart. In ordinary time we wait, like puffed-out birds, upon a frozen limb of time and seek for solace in the hearing of the Word. Ed Block Review for Religious DENNIS J. BILLY Devotion to God the Father in Religious Spirituality Ln some parts of the Catholic world, this article may draw w readers and perhaps outright protest. Among some reli-gious today, "Father" as referring to God might well be under-stood as an ideological catchword linking a speaker or writer, regardless of his or her intentions, with a slew of suspected atti-tudes (clustered around "patriarchy") about which questioning and disapproval would likely arise. Confronting Our Experience In such situations the anger evoked by an uncritical refer-ence to God as Father can be intense and highly vocal. A reaction to such anger could itself be a mirror image of the original--but in the opposite direction. "Every action has an equal and oppo-site reaction," as the saying goes. If care is not taken, this coun-tervailing process of action/reaction can spiral out of control and leave members of the believing community "poles apart." In such instances, division and animosity replace the dialogue and mutual respect that should characterize the believing com-munity. We should be saddened by such results, but not surprised. Human beings are weak and fragile. Even with the best of inten- Dennis J. Billy CSSR delivered this paper (here somewhat revised) in spring 1999 at the Institute of Spirituality of the Angelicmn in Rome. His postal address is Accademia Alfonsiana; C.P. 2458; 00100 Roma; Italy. Janua~y-Febrt~my 2000 Billy * Devotion to God the Father in Religious Spirituality tions, they can easily allow rancor and strife to get the upper hand in their lives. The same holds true for the communities people form, even religious ones. As the world gets smaller and smaller, I would not be surprised if the local Christian commu-nity and the local religious community reflect more and more of these complex and highly charged emotional tensions. Such is the nature of a world where technological advances have made mass communication practically instantaneous and where the communication media purvey religious sentiment for a society increasingly definable as a consumer market. Anything goes, if it will sell--better still if it will sell quickly. Package it well enough and you will get a large enough following to support your ideas. Besides, everyone is entitled to his or her own opinion. Right? If so, then we can call God whatever we please. Why not? I would be astonished if, among the readers of this journal, there is not a wide spectrum of strong emotional responses to my topic. Indeed, some of us may experience the full range of these intense emotional reactions in our own hearts. Some of us may have no problem whatsoever about referring to God as Father. Some of us may feel a certain ambivalence about the term and not quite understand why we feel the way we do. Some of us may feel guilty for feeling that way. Some of us may be confused and uncertain and may wonder h6w a simple phrase like "Our Father" can evoke such strong and conflicting emotional reac-tions. And some of us may be dead set against using such a term, regardless of what we say at Mass and regardless of what Scripture and Tradition, the pope, the magisterium, and even Jesus have to say about it. A reason for the vast array of reactions may be the ambiva-lence (and, in some cases, outright hatred) some people harbor toward their own fathers. Social historians speak of the weak-ened role of fatherhood in Western society due to tremendous upheavals brought about by the Industrial Revolution. As Western society became industrialized during the 19th and 20th centuries, the population gradually shifted from rural, agricultural areas to the cities and their outlying areas. Fathers went off to work in fac-tories, sometimes traveled long distances to get there, and returned home tired and hungry at the end of a long day with little energy for anything else. Over the years.this resulted in a culture with largely absent and disengaged fathers, who spent most of their time away from home and who had little direct Review for Religious contact with the inner workings of family life. Their job was to provide shelter and to put bread and butter on the table. Nothing more; nothing less. The image of the distant and detached father reading his evening paper, smoking his pipe, sipping his evening pint, oblivious to the needs of those around him, especially his children, is deeply embedded in many people's minds. In this century, advances in technology alleviated the situation some-what, but have created new demands on people's time and energy. These same advances, moreover, have brought much of the world under the sway of both the positive and the negative influ-ences of Western culture? If that is not enough, some people had fatherless childhoods because of war and disease. Imagine growing up without a father. People may not show it externally, but some of them have grown up feeling devastated, feel-ing abandoned by their fathers and perhaps even by God. Today households exist where the father or at least a strong fatherly influence simply does not exist. One wonders what calling God "Father" might mean in such a home. Of course, when fathers fail to take their roles seriously, when they neglect their children or abuse them with physical and psychological violence, even sexual misconduct, there is another problem about calling God "Father." Tensions grow and family situations worsen. No wonder that some people find it difficult to address God as their Father. Why should they think God would be anything but detached or remote or even violent toward them? How would you feel if you were in their shoes? Perhaps you already are. This is just a sampling of the wide range of feelings our topic can evoke. If we wish to understand what devotion to God the Father means for religious spirituality today, we need at the out-set to recognize and confront the wide range of sad experiences of fatherhood that people have had and do have. If we do not handle these problems regarding human fatherhood, theologians may look into possible new names for God and talk about them engagingly, but the names will very likely fail to make that all- We need to recognize and confront the wide range of sad experiences of fatherhood that people have had and do have. January-February 2000 Billy * Devotion to God the Father in Religious Spiritlutlity important journey from the mind to the heart. Proposed names that seem "theologically accurate" and "politically correct" are not likely ever to fit the mystery which sustains us and the world we live in from one moment to the next. If the words we use for God in prayer are somehow false, then the images they call up and our prayers themselves are likely to go awry. Defining Our Terms What does devotion to the Father mean in religious-life spir-ituality today? We have looked at various tensions to which use of this name for God gives rise in different people. Now we will clarify some of the terms of the discussion. To begin with, I follow Thomas Aquinas's understanding of "devotion" as "a ready willingness to give oneself to the service of God"; it is an act of religion, one of the allied virtues of jus-tice, and manifests itself in people's deep desire to serve God in whatever way asked of them (see ST2a-2ae.82.1 and 2). I use the word Father not in the Roman sense of paterfamilias (that is, "the patriarchal head of a household"), but in the Aramaic sense of "Abba" (that is, "Pap'a") that Jesus used to express the loving, compassionate face of God. This term has deep roots in the Christian psyche and expresses what experts in male spirituality refer to as "the deep masculinity" of God.2 Jesus himself explains this v.ery well in the Gospel of Luke when he says, "Be compas-sionate as your Father is compassionate" (Lk 6:36). By religious I refer to the way of life recognized by the Catholic Church that seeks to follow Christ through life in community and by the pub-lic profession of the vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience.3 This way of life has deep roots in Christian history, belongs to the charismatic dimension of the church, and forms an integral part of its life and holiness. By spirituality, in many ways the most elu-sive of the terms I am dealing with, I mean "how individuals or groups understand and carry out the ultimate meaning of their life." It can be discussed on three levels--the experiential, the doctrinal, and the analytical--and embraces both theoretical and concrete, practical issues.4 To quote a circular letter of Joseph W. Tobin, the Redemptorist superior general, "spirituality is con-nected with basic and often unsettling questions: Who are we? Why are we? How are we to live?''s Having clarified 'my terms, I can now express the question Review for Religious posed by my topic in the following way: What are the practical consequences of lifestyle and identity for those of us in the church who seek to give ourselves in service to God, our merciful and compassionate Father, through life in community and the public profession of the evangelical counsels? This question yields no simple solution. It is very difficult and complex, one that holds no instant solution, but must be pondered and contemplated by each community of religious and by each individual religious over and over and over again. I offer some guidelines to help in this process. Naming the Mystery Before we begin to do that, however, we must note the lim-itations of human language and its inability to exhaust the mys-tery of the divine. Language conceals as much as it reveals, perhaps even more. As Pseudo-Dionysius reminds us in The Divine Names: "God is . . . known in all things and as distinct from all things. He is known through knowledge and through unknowing. Of him there is conception, reason, understanding, touch, perception, opinion, imagination, name, and many other things. On the other hand he cannot be understood, words can-not contain him, and no name can lay hold of him.''6 The Catechism of the Catholic Church (§370) affirms this when it reminds us that we are created in God's image and not vice versa: "God is pure spirit in which there is no place for the difference between the sexes. But the respective 'perfections' of man and woman reflect something of the infinite perfection of God: those of a mother and those of a father and husband." In other words, the names we give God express something of who God is, but also fall infinitely short. Kataphatic (or "posi-tive") theology and apophatic (or "negative") theology go hand in hand. God is "Abba, Father," as Jesus teaches us, but also "our loving Mother," as the 14th-century anchoress Julian of Norwich reminds us in her Showings, and "inmost ground," as Meister Eckhart proposes in his German works.7 God can be referred to by these and a host of other religious appellations, some of which we can readily identify with, others not so readily. Perhaps it is only the "coincidence of opposites" which best expresses the mystery of God, who is known in the midst of our unknowing and who cannot be confined by our meager attempts to express the inexpressible. Janua~. -February 2000 Billy ¯ Devotion to God the Father in Religious Spirituality Theological language is fundamentally analogical in nature. That is to say, any word we use when speaking about or naming God expresses, at one and the same time, both a proportional likeness and difference. This holds true even for the word which the Word made flesh himself used to address God. Jesus calls God "Abba, Father," not to tie God down, define him, create an image of him in our heads, or (worse yet) exhaust his mystery, but to assure us that compassion and love rather than confusion and chaos lie at the heart of existence. This is precisely what the Spirit tells us when it cries out "Abba, Father" deep within our hearts and intercedes for us with sighs too deep for words (see Rm 8:15-27). Something rings true in our hearts when we call God "Abba, Father." We know that God is very much more than this two-syllable word can convey, but somehow it seems all right. We sense that God hears us, understands us, and assures us that all shall be well. A Revealed Religion Why is this so? We already have a received a glimpse of the reason above when, referring to the Catechism of the Catholic Church (§370), we noted that we are created in God's image, and not vice versa. Notice the passive voice. We are created. It is not we who do the creating. God is not a function of our language and systems of thought. We do not somehow "create" God by the names we give him or the theologies we concoct to express his divine mystery. If this were true, then theology itself would just be a sophisticated form of anthropomorphizing. In fact, God takes the initiative and reveals to us the nature of the divine. The ini-tiative is not for us to take; we are receivers. God uses human instruments, of course, which themselves are weak and fallible, but he takes the initiative. We must not forget that Christianity is a revealed religion. When it comes to naming God, it recognizes that human reason and human imagination can only go so far. On our own, all we can come up with is the recognition of the weakness of human lan-guage to express the inexpressible and the necessity of using many names so as to

Issue 55.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1996. ; lived experience of all who find that the churcfl's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are :meant to be informative, practical, or inspirational, written from a theological 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 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 St. Bernadetie Convent ° 76 University Blvd. East ° Silver Spring, MI) 20901 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ I)uluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1996 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy an}, ~naterial (articles, poe,ns, 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 Copyrigh~ Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MARCH/APRIL 1996 * VOLUME55 ¯ NUMBER2 contents 118 symposium - part I Religious Life's Ongoing Renewal: Will Good Intentions Suffice? Miriam Ukeritis CSJ provides some examples of actions taken by various religious congregations in their renewal and makes some evaluative reflections. 133 143 seeking God The Urban Hermit: Monastic Life in the City Theresa Mancuso describes the life of an urban hermit as integrating the contemplative life of the poustinia with the marketplace where a living is earned. Enclosed in the Mystery of Jesus Marie Beha OSC explores various aspects of enclosure as part of the Christian mystery into which we all are invited. Review for Religious 159 171 growing old Biblical Contributions to a Theology of Aging Daniel J. Harrington SJ offers reflections on a few biblical texts which contribute to constructing a theology and spirituality for us as we grow old as people of Christian faith. On Selling the Chalices: Vincent de Paul on Aging Robert P. Maloney CM shares the insights and feelings of Vincent de Paul in response to the process of aging. 185 report U.S. Hispanic Catholics: Trends and Works 1995 Kenneth G. Davis OFMConv and Eduardo C. Fern~indez SJ present a panoramic of the year's events within the U.S. Hispanic Catholic community. departments 116 Prisms 204 Canonical Counsel: Authority in Ingtitutes of Consecrated Life 209 Book Reviews March-April 1996 prisms Boundaries are a part of life. We think of how boundaries identify our countries and our states, our soccer fields and our tennis courts. Behavior to be proper and humor to be appreciated observe boundaries. There are time boundaries for speeches to be effective and financial limits for buying and selling. Sometimes we see boundaries through a negative fil-ter. We talk about how we do not want to feel bound in any way since that would close off possible opportunities for ourselves. Boundaries., we say, are restrictions on our human potential and freedom. Yet as a counterpoint we also experience that when cancer breaks down boundaries and has metastasized, life becomes diminished and threat-ened. So too, when people do not acknowledge certain boundaries to their own stamina, they can have a break-down or become sick. Although sometimes appearing to us to be restrictive, boundaries, then, can be appreciated in a life system for the part they play in maintaining good health and vibrant life. Witness the negative results when we humans do not observe boundaries in our polluting of streams and oceans, in our poisoning the atmosphere through chemical emissions, and in our destroying world weather patterns through the deforesting in the Amazon basin. Sometimes people, including women and men reli-gious, view religious life through the filter of boundaries which restrict. Whether it be the observance of the tra-ditional evangelical counsels of chastity, pove(ty, and obe-dience, the acceptance of a life in common, or the practice of enclosure, religious life has always had boundaries. But Review for Religious through an ecological perspective-- that ,is, religious life identi-fied as a life system--we can come to a fresh appreciation of the vital quality of the boundaries we find in it. T6day when membership inclusion for many religious con-gregations seems to eliminate all boundaries, we could ask our-selves whether in a life-system model this movement is going towards health. When there are no boundaries to the kinds of ministries taken on by members of a congregation and no bound-aries to what constitutes a life together, we might wonder whether a deadly cancer may likely enough be coursing through a life sys-tem. Since w~ are so conscious today of environmental and eco-logical concerns with a scientific realism never before possible, we need to apply a similar kind of care to religious life identified as an ecological system. Then our acceptance of certain boundaries will be situated within the .context of health and vitality. Our authors in this issue talk in one: way or another about boundaries. Evangelical counsels, community life, and the enclo-sure associated with contemplative life are all boundaries--bound-aries connected with a furtherance of life. Aging, tog, is a boundary~difficult to face for active, service-oriented people--but aging is seen by faith as another stage in our growing in Christ. Yet doubts, even so, assail us: How can the restrictions of aging, a kind of final boundary of human life, be seen as a growing? The church observance of the Lenten and Easter seasons invites us always to contemplate the growth potential of all the boundaries of human life portrayed in Jesus' paschal mystery. Jesus makes even death no longer a limitation but a boundary that issues into life. We see that Jesus does not take away the boundary of death, but rather allows it--in daily actions and in our final human act--to become the key to our entering into his own paschal mystery, culminating in new and surprising life. Our desire to identify with this paschal mystery as a way of daily living leads us to view all boundaries through the perspective of the risen Jesus. Boundaries, it seems, bring home to us how much we find life as Easter people. David L. Fleming SJ Marcb-April 1996 MIRIAM D. UKERITIS Religious Life'.s Ongoing Renewal: Will Good Intentions Suffice? symposium part Since the publication of the FORUS study, several con-gregations have taken the time to assess their efforts at renewal and plan seriously for their futures.1 This article reviews some of these efforts and identifies areas that con-tinue to require attention. Background Thirty years ago the Decree on the Adaptation and Renewal of the Religious Life (Perfectae caritatis, 1965) urged a process of renewal that would include returning constantly both to the sources of all Christian life and to the original spirit of one's institute and 'also adapting to the changed conditions of our time (PC §2). The council fathers said that the manner of living, praying, and work-ing should everywhere--especially in mission territories-- be suitably adapted to the modern physical and psychological circumstances of the members and also, as required by the nature of each institute, to the necessi-ties of the apostolate and to cultural, social, and economic Miriam Ukeritis csJ collaborated with David Nygren CM in producing the study "The Future of Religious Orders in the United States" (FORUS). The current article is one of four preo ¯ sentations made at an October 1995 symposium, "Religious Life 30 Years Later: Is This What Vatican II Intended?" held at the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth in Wernersville, Pennsylvania. Correspondence with Miriam Ukeritis should be addressed: De Paul University;' Center for Applied Social Research; 2219 North Kenmore Avenue; Chicago, Illinois 60614. Review.[br Religious demands (§3). Considering the various interpretations of this mandate and the various implementations and results, there can be little wonder that this symposium commemorating Perfectae caritatis is subtitled, "Is This What Vatican II Intended?-2 This question of the council's intent was not a new one. Echoes of such wonderment were heard almost as soon as the period of experimentation began. Many books and articles have appeared, reflecting on the themes of renewing, reweaving, refounding, reclaiming, restructuring, reshaping, rekindling, reen-ergizing, and recreating religious life. Simultaneously, many signs of decline and diminishment have marked the landscape of reli-gious orders in the United States. As early as 1988, in an effort to address this issue, Lilly Endowment funded a three-year study to investigate these phenomena. The researchers, themselves mem-bers of religious orders and trained in the field of psychology, made public their findings in The Future of Religious Orders in the United States (FORUS) report. Almost immediately after its release in mid September 1992, headlines in the secular press proclaimed that "Catholic orders need dramatic change to survive" (New York Times 9/20/92), "Catholic orders shunning poor" (Chicago Tribune 9/16/92), "Roman Catholic orders in decline" (Washington Post 9/26/92), "Study sees Catholic orders losing their way" (Boston Globe 9/16/92), and "Religious orders dying out; hospitals, schools may suffer" (Sunday Denver Post 9/27/92). These reports roused both the interest and the ire of many. Some thought the study an accurate reflection of the state of religious life twenty-five years after Vatican Council II, while others saw it as an unnecessarily negative assessment of religious life's efforts at renewal. In light of the controversy surrounding the establish-ment of the Council of Major Superiors of Women Religious only a few months before the publication of the FORUS findings, this sensitivity, particularly among apostolic women religious, is quite understandable. Too, the Leadership Conference of Women Religious had recently completed Threads for the Loom, its study of membership, some of whose results seemed to be contradicted by the FORUS findings.3 As serious scholars of religion and members-at-large of reli-gious orders pursued a more thorough reading of the results, and as others' reactions and interpretations began to appear in Catholic periodicals and internal newsletters, consensus emerged concerning the significance of the FORUS study.4 One of the most helpful ele- March-April 1996 Ukeritis ¯ Religious Life's Ongoing Renewal ments of the report was the summary chart, of factors shaping the future of religious life (Figure 1). This chart listed results of the study in a manner that provided agendas for many congregations, chapters, formation conferences, and planning endeavors. For that reason and because of its summary nature, this paper will refer to it in reflecting on how congregations have tried to integrate the research findings into their ongoing efforts at renewal. The diagram takes the form of a force field, a construct com-mon to social scientists. The center oval represents the current state while that on the far right depicts the desired future state. In this project it was defined as "Fidelity .to Purpose and Responsiveness to Absolute Human Need." "Restraining Forces" (left column of arrows) identifies factors which, if not inhibited, will keep a group or system in its current state or cause further decline. "Driving Forces" (right column of arrows) describes fac-tors which, if fostered/will support the movemeht of the group or system to its desired future. In this study the driving forces are portrayed as influenced by conversion, a process necessary'to respond consistently and faithfully to the Spirit of God. Co-opta-tion by the dehumanizing aspects of society permeates the restrain-ing forces. Moving toward the desired future is accomplished by attending to the driving forces and withdrawing energy from those that restrain. Unfortunately, groups tend to do the opposite, endeavoring to root out of what is undesirable and neglecting to put energy into what will take them in the desired direction. Figure 1: Shaping the Future of Religious Life in the U.S. Shaping the Future of Religious Life in the US ~ Driving Forces CONVERSION i-TExcellent Lea~ U ¯ [~ iAuthority ~ N ~ ~Corporate Idenlity T T T ~IThe GOSp~ ~ Review for Religious Overview Since the publication of the FORUS findings, the researchers have frequently been asked: Is there a future for religious life? Invariably they have responded, "Yes, definitely--if you want one and are willing to work for it!" Members of religious orders have devoted much time and effort to reading, attending conferences, and discussing the meaning of renewal. Too often their attention has been directed toward outside experts. Borrowing from the author of Deuteronomy, many act as if the answer were up in the sky or across the sea and others had to be sent to retrieve and interpret it (see Dt 30:12- 14). While consultation and input may be beneficial, the congregation must realize that ultimately the scriptural response applies here; the answer sought is "very near., already in your mouths and in your hearts; you have only to carry it out." It is here, in the imagining and implementing, that the difficulty occurs: As in many other change efforts--be it mastering a language or shedding pounds--good intentions are not enough. Effort is required. Neither Neither the FORUS study nor the presentation of any one of the scholars of religious life provides a quick and simple how-to response to renewal questions. the FORUS study nor the presentation of any one of the scholars of religious life provides a quick and simple how-to response to renewal questions. The finding and carrying out of the answer to the question of how to shape a congregation's future is as unique as the congregation and entails hard work.5 To get results, an action plan must be coupled with concerted and sustained implementation. The plan must take into account the current state of the congregation, the hopds and dreams of its members, the reality of its resources, the constraints and supports which the ~xternal environment brings to bear, and the needs of God's people. Openness to the work of the Spirit, through con-stant prayer, dialogue, and a continuous reading of the signs of the times, is critical. Evaluation and correctiori, during the process and at the conclusion,~will help keep all involved honest about their efforts and effective in the accomplishment of the group's mission. It is unfortunate that some perceive an honest assessment of a congregation's efforts toward renewal as an indictment of the March-April 1996 Uke~tis ¯ Religious Life's Ongoing Renewal work of previous leadership teams, chapters, or members-at-large. This is hardly so. With. the humble realization that the efforts of these often heroic women and men have brought a group to its current ability to be faithful to its purpose and to minister to God's people, it is only in a spirit of fidelity to the work begun by founders and foundresses, carried on through the decades by countless religious, and most recently updated by those who led initial efforts at renewal that any such critique is offered or may merit being initiated. As many have found, it is out of such love that a response of greater effort is often born. Review of Factors Among the ways that religious orders have used the findings of the FORUS study in their efforts at renewal, the most fre-quently cited areas have been "Individualism/Vocation" (in com-bination with "Role Clarity"), "Average/Excellent Leadership," and "Corporate Identity." The remainder of this reflection will consider these three areas one by one. After a brief discussion of the area, examples will be given of actions taken by some groups or congregations, and then some remaining questions will be examined. Individualism/Vocation Members of religious orders have not been alone in noting the negative consequences of exaggerated individualism. In the United States several commentaries have appeared lamenting what seemed to be an overemphasis on self and a loss of a sense of commu-nity. The work of Robert Bellah is probably the most familiar.6 Granted that a healthy sense of one's own personhood is a critical factor in one's development, it is no news that an overem-phasis on individual concerns can lead to a narcissistic self-absorp-tion. Admittedly, many of the practices and customs that marked religious life up to the time of the council could stifle the fragile sense of self that some brought their early training. Furthermore, for those who entered novitiates in late adolescence, when a per-son's developmental task is identity formation, the foreclosure of that process as they assumed the image of religious in their par-ticular institute left many aspects of these tasks incomplete and made the successful transition into mature adulthood difficult. Hence, the psychological climate in many groups tended to pro- Review for Religious duce individualism, with sentiments reflected in songs of the 1960s and 1970s such as "I Did It My Way" and "I Gotta Be Me." With the numbers of golden and diamond jubilarians far sur-passing the number of silver jubilarians in recent years, questions like "Why religious life?" and "What does it mean to be a reli-gious?" are increasingly relevant to a generation whose develop-mental task is now generativity. Hence, it is hardly surprising that the notion of "call"--particularly, "to or for what?"--is a frequent topic of conversation. (Patricia Wittberg SC reflects, in her writ-ing, on some of the elements involved in responding to a call or commitment, notably, sacrifice, common rituals and traditions, and a sense of boundaries.)7 These conversations may be fright-ening to some insofar as they seem to hark back to former prac-tices that long .ago lost their meaning. In times of transition, as the FORUS report noted, it can be particularly enticing to revert to old ways of being and doing. The challenge for religious today is to put creative energies into finding new ways:--and, in this case, identifying what the distinctive elements of the call to religious life are and how they are to be lived. One of these areas of energy is to be found in the realistic examination many congregations are conducting in the matter of associate programs. Involving laypersons in the congregation's spiritual or ministerial activities has a long history for many groups. Others have adopted it more recently as a means of wel-coming those who share in the charism of the group. Thanks to the work of RosemaryJeffries and others, there is increasing clar-ity as to how individuals who are members of associate commu-nities do and do not relate with vowed members of the congregation,s Appropriate boundaries, the meaning of mem-bership, and modes of belonging are increasingly common topics at formal convenings of religious and around the kitchen table. Such discussions serve to enhance an understanding of vocation in today's world. As a separate but related concern, the FORUS study cited role clarity as a significant issue for members of religious orders, par-ticularly women. There is abundant evidence that religious are struggling to address this. The energy displayed in this country as the Lineamenta document circulated before the 1994 Synod on Religious Life was striking. Intended or not, this event provided an excellent public forum for conversations concerning the role of religious. There can be no doubt tha't religious in the United ~qarcb-Aptql 1996 Ukeritis ¯ Religious Life's Ongo.ing Renewal States are directing their attention to self-definition rather than looking to outside bodies to provide the answer to the question "What does it mean to be a religious in the church today?" In general, it is encouraging to hear religious focused increas-ingly on the accomplishment of the mission of Jesus as expressed through their charism. While the funding of retirement contin-ues to be a concern in the face of dwindling material resources, the new energies that congregations have been devoting to ministries that address critical needs, to realistic ways of supporting new members, and to clarifying the meaning of membership are all signs of movement in the direction of a vital future.9 In reflecting on issues related to vocation, the meaning of membership in a community remains to be examined. Old ways of belonging (common ministry, common schedule, many restric-tions on external involvements) no longer seem functional, but what are the new ways to determine what being a member of a community means? The 1994 Synod .on Religious Life acknowl-edged that community does not necessarily involve the members' living together. Today, however, it is often easier to state what community is not than to describe what it is. Resistance encoun-tered in attempts to describe what it is may relate~to the reality that any definition will place demands or limits on those who choose to belong. The pull of individualism continues to be strong. There must be continuing efforts to grapple seriously with what vocation means to individuals and what its lived expres-sion should include. Undoubtedly, the lived expression of com-munity will take different forms in different groups. Average/Excellent Leadership Members of religious orders are not alone in expressing great interest in leadership and the development of leaders. Officers of major funding groups and administrators of sponsored institu-tions have, in conversations, voiced serious concern about the ability of religious to provide the leadership required to direct the efforts of religious organizations in an increasingly complex world. The absence of plans to address this concern, even after its identification, is even more alarming. Finally, the fact that the pool of religious from which to select and train leaders is dwin-dling adds to the urgency of this consideration. The search for opportunities for leadership training, based on a set of competencies demonstrated to be critical for religious Review for Rel(glous leadership, continues, Unfortunately but typically, this se~irch starts only after individuals or teams have already been selected for their position. Few congregations are at the point of developing a systematic means of providing their members with leadership training. This is complicated further by the fact that the cost of such programs may be or appear to be beyond the financial means of some congregations. One group reported dif-ficulty in finding a total of $1000 for three days of training for a five-member team. Yet, in the world of professional development, this sum is not an atypical cost for one individual to partic-ipate in a weekend program. Efforts to address seriously the leadership issues within congregations have taken many forms. One group devised a three-year series of four-day leadership-skills workshops. All mem-bers under a certain age were expected to par-ticipate in one cycle. The content of these sessions was basic, ranging from how to run a meeting to how to read a balance sheet. It included segments dealing with human-resource issues such as recruiting, hiring, supervising, and firing staff and managing volunteers as well. This not only provided busy people the opportunity to become acquainted with basics of leadership, but also assisted the congregation in identifying its members' var-ied gifts. It had the side effect of enabling participants to interact with one another in ways they might not otherwise experience and served as a means of encouraging some members who might be hesitant or reluctant to see themselves in positions of leader-ship to pursue additional education. Clearly, this congregation is providing for its own future leadership needs, for at some future time some members of this group will surely find themselves in positions of community leadership. The leadership group of another congregation instituted a mid-term evaluation of their ministry as leaders. Having developed at the beginning of their term a ministry plan for their four years in office, they conducted the evaluation at the end of their second year. Results of this effort provided information concerning where and how they might refocus their efforts, alter their strategy, or enhance communication on critical issues. It also gave them a sense of affirmation regarding work well done. Few congregations are at the point of developing a systematic means of providing their members with leadership training. March-April 1996 Ukeritis ¯ Religious Life's Ongoing Renewal Corporate identity provides an answer to the question "What is this group known for ?" The constant challenge, along with the gentle shift that is occurring with congregational leadership, manifests itself in the willingness of members to allow leaders to exercise their leader-ship skills. Given that many members are steeped, perhaps uncon-sciously, in a culture of individualism, it can be difficult to attend to the call of a leader or leadership group and to channel one's energy in a direction set by others, especially when it is not one that the member would choose. The good news is that capable leaders have learned much about the when and how of man-aging consensus. Paralysis resulting from rigid adherence to consensus processes is less fre-quent. Some of this is true because outstanding leaders have learned to listen to their members. They read the pulse of the community, under-stand what is said between the lines, and attend to the climate of the group. By doing this they are able to gauge thetiming of a program or intervention, frame it in a manner that enables members to receive it, and reframe it when resistance seems likely to thwart the outcome. The leader-ship of a large congregation encountered such resistance after announcing for the coming year a reflection process on the group's previously identified focus. The chapter's response was loud and clear: resistance, based on the complaint that the congregation's members had not been consulted before the announcement. Rather than insist on its prerogative to lead by setting the agenda for implementing congregational goals, the team responded by acknowledging the concern. In the face of time constraints and at the cost of additional effort willingly contributed by the team members, they amended the plan to include a consultation with the members. In the final analysis, the project ran almost exactly as initially presented--with the addition of the consultation step that ensured the success of the effort. The community experi-enced a year-long dialogue that resulted in deeper self-under-standing and greater commitment to the group's focus. It is not only within congregations that outstanding leaders exercise their ministry. Groups of leaders have joined together to influence not only the church and religious life but also soci-ety at large. One regional group has chosen to confront media use of negative stereotypes in portraying religious. They are deter- Review for Religious mined to educate local media personnel about the positive reali-ties of religious life. Calls by leadership for prayer and fasting are increasingly common and are taken seriously by members. A leadership team formally called its members to prayer and fasting on a set day each week as a means of discerning and seeking openness to the call of the Spirit regarding the future of their congregation. In terms of the questions remaining, the growing number and the growing complexity of contemporary needs appear to out-strip religious orders' ability to develop the leadership skills and organize themselves enough to address these needs. For some individuals, relinquishing both the satisfactions and the pains of direct apostolates in order to develop and use leadership skills to achieve systemic and organizational change may be the form of a new asceticism, For others, learning how to be effective board members of congregational and external institutions may be the way to exercise leadership. The critical issues outlined in the introduction to this section remain. They are summarized best in the question concerning the willingness and the ability of reli-gious congregations to provide leadership not only for themselves but also for the institutions they sponsor and the ministries in which they are involved. Corporate ldentity Of all the driving forces identified in the FORUS study, cor-porate identity was perhaps the most misunderstood. It does not imply a congregation's insistence on one type of ministry or one site at which all would live and work. Corporate identity is, rather, a common focus for the life of the ~roup. In a sense, corporate identity provides an answer to the question "What is this group known for?" Corporate. identity is not identical with charism, but flows" from charism. It is the manner in which a religious con-gregation, being faithful to its founding purpose, attempts to focus its many resources to respond to today's most pressing human needs. As avenues of ministry expanded after the council, it became increasingly common for members to be involved in any of the works in which a professional might be engaged. These ministe-rial moves--often in the form of entrepreneurial enterprises-- reflected the zeal of the members as they sought new ways to minister in today's world while simultaneously using both their March-April 1996 Ukeritis * Religious Life's Ongoing Rene~val innate gifts and the skills they had developed. At other times the forces of individualism moved members to pursue areas of inter-est regardless of the connection of their work with the congre-gation's mission. In both cases, this resulted in the dispersion of religious women and men. Religious came to be identified more and more as individual ministers, frequendy heroic in their efforts, frequently invisible as religious. The mutual relationship between the congregation and the individual member, particularly as related to the mission and ministry, was lost. Media reports that document the work of a religious priest, sister, or brother fre-quently fail to mention the member's congregation by name. Changes in the general population as regards violence, increased poverty, and widespread drug abuse--along with greater cultural diversity in the United States--have forced religious to rethink the locus and mode of their ministerial involvements. Increased complexity resulting from globalization and new tech-nologies has heightened the challenge. The overwhelming demand for new understandings and additional language skills, coupled with the shift in the ability of religious to respond .enthusiasti-cally with bodily presence to many of these situations, demands serious examination of how resources are used and immense cre-ativity in crafting responses. Many able leaders of congregations recognized their mem-bers' need for a focal point of congregational energies. Such a requirement is basic to the dynamics of any functioning group: all the more so for a group of individuals who have professed a life commitment in a religious congregation. In most cases these loci began as small endeavors. In some instances initial efforts seemed to fail, as in the case of one group's attempt to establish a shelter for adolescent girls. Examination of the situation and a willingness to admit shortcomings, learn from apparent .defeat, and directly address problem areas were critical in the. revitalization of that effort and its success today. A group with a long history of staffing private academies opted to replicate a successful project that another congregation had begun in the area. It took the form of a learning center for at-risk middle-school students in the inner city of a metropolitan area. The congregation took care to establish a focused sponsoring group as it missioned some members to initiate the work. This sponsoring group not only provided both the civic and religious communities with a sense of stability regarding the project, but Review for Religious also was a positive factor in securing funding and contributions from outside sources. For example, alumni/ae of other schools sponsored by the congregation (particularly schools that had been closed) found a type of kinship with the ministry. They were enthusiastic in their support of this new educational venture, which included a school, a pre- and after-school study center, summer camp experience, and a locus for parent education. In it they saw themselves forming a link with the next generation of those served by the very congregation that had given them an excellent education. As in the example described in the earlier FORUS report, sev-eral congregations--each one using a process that worked best for it--have selected an issue such as domestic violence, home-lessness, or ecological awareness as a focus for their corporate efforts. In such situations the members' activities range from let-ter writing to involving students or parishioners in direct-service projects. On a congregational scale, artists have pooled their tal-ents to create productions intended both to raise funds to sup-port the work and to raise consciousness about the issue. Members have encouraged their sponsored institutions to participate in walks to support the cause, again both to raise money and to make the public more aware of the issue. Congregations have pooled resources to provide salaries for state or regional advocacy. Once again, both direct action and efforts, at systemic change are crit-ical. As Amata Miller IHM noted in the video presentation that accompanied Threads for the Loom, one o~ the contributions that religious congregations can make is in their commitment to a geographic area. Few individuals are able to commit the twenty or more years required to make significant changes' in a neighbor-hood, but a religious congregation can make that commitment-- and ensure that change. For any group interested in addressing the question of cor-porate identity, several pitfalls remain. The. process requires, com-mitment from a core group. Obtaining a sense of the members--often in the face of great apathy--is key, for this pro-cess is aimed at group ownership of the. project. Congregations that have .experienced success in their efforts have' been willing to think small initially, to celebrate, the seemingly insignificant vic-tories, and to encourage their members to connect the focus with current ministerial efforts. In this process it will be a rare group that does not have members trying to define some issue so that it March-April 1996 Ukeritis ¯ Religious Life's Ongoing Renewal will encompass everything: ecology and AIDS and educational reform. No one would deny the significance of any of these issues. No one group, in this day, can focus simultaneously and effec-tively on all three. Corporate America provided us recently with this lesson when Anheuser-Busch and AT&T recognized publicly the need to define themselves more clearly in order to provide better service. In 1995 Busch announced its plans to divest itself of both the Eagle snack-foods division and its entertainment parks, and AT&T made public its plans to split into three companies, each focusing on a different service or product area. Admittedly, religious orders are not major for-profit corpo-rations. They do, however, stand to learn something from the world around them. Ultimately, of course, they must make sure that any such efforts of theirs are connected with the mission of Jesus, as expressed by the congregation and its charism. Without this spiritual connection, any such efforts would be a sort of fla-vor- of-the-month dilettantism. Conclusion As the reader may have noted, it is difficult to hold separate the three factors selected for review. Issues of individual mem-bership, and call (individualism/vocation), group identity (corpo-rate identity), and ways of enabling the group to accomplish its task (average/excellent leadership) do not exist in isolation from one another. Given the limits of human abilities, focus on one or another at a given time may be not only appropriate but necessary. Considering one area as the place to find "the answer," however, while ignoring the other areas of concern may lead. away from a successful resolution of a problem or to the ineffective imple-mentation of an intervention. As noted above, the hold of indi-vidualism may tend to block the best efforts of successful leaders. Ineffective leaders may not be able to make good use of a newly focused corporate identity. Clear corporate identity may enable individuals to determine the appropriateness of their member-ship in a given community. Unlike the Israelites who ultimately arrived at the Promised Land, it is not probable--and is very likely undesirable--that reli-gious life will attain the stability it seems to have experienced as late as the early 1960s.I° It is imperative, however, that members of religious orders address realistically the issues related to their Review for Religious viability and vitality)1 More than the ordinary members, religious who have been entrusted with greater responsibility for the charism of their congregation must strive to ensure that the gift given them for all of God's people is passed on. Admittedly, for some, this may entail suppression of an institute or evolution to some new form. Modeling death with dignity, in a Christian atmo-sphere of letting go, may prove to be a great lesson for a society inclined increasingly to resist surrender to the paschal-mystery cycle of life-death-resurrection. However, to fail to address the questions honesdy and work earnestly toward answers and imple-mentation might be a great infidelity to the ever present grace of God. To face all of this, We will need courage. We will need energy. We will need vision. We will need to be at ease with ourselves and our decisions. Above all, like the psalmist, we will need to keep our eyes fixed on the Lord, our God, until God lets us rest. And then we will know, as we have always known, that the effort was worth the gift of our lives, the best of our years, the length of our days.'z The title of this article reflecting on continuing efforts in the renewal of religious life 'contains the question "Will Good Intentions Suffice?" Hopefully, an answer key is not necessary to determine this author's response. Notes ~ See David Nygren CM and Miriam Ukeritis CSJ, The Future of Religious Orders in the United States: Tran~Cormation and Commitment (New York: Praeger, 1993). 2 The Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth in Wernersville, Pennsylvania, with the cosponsorship of Review for Religious, hosted the 26-29 October 1995 symposium "Religious Life 30 Years Later: Is This What Vatican II Intended?" 3 Anne Munley IHM, Threads for the Loom: LCWR Planning and Ministry Studies (Silver Spring, Maryland: Leadership Conference of Women Religious, 1992). 4 For an executive summary of this project, see Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 6-55, or Origins 22, no. 15 (24 September 1992). See also n. 1 above. Marcb-Aptql 1996 Ukeritis ¯ Religious Life's Ongoing Renewal s While levels of energy and constraints of calendar are realities, a mantra-like refrain of "We're too tired!" or "We don't have time!" among members of religious orders would signal a host of issues more critical than age or schedules. 6 Bellah's works on this subject, each with several other authors, include Habits of the Heart (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1985) and The Good Society (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1991). 7 Patricia Wittberg SC, Creating a Future for Religious Life: A Sociological Perspective (New York: Paulist Press, 1991). 8 "Results of the Survey on Associate Membership," Horizon 16, no. 2 (Winter 1991). 9 In the early 1980s, one external observer of the religious-forma-tion process likened the care given the few members who entered religious orders to the attention lavished on chicks of a nearly extinct species of birds. Resources were lavished on a few in the hope that they would sur-vive to adulthood. At times formation personnel felt as thpugh they were held hostage by both the candidates and the vowed members until they produced conditions that would get the candidates to make a life com-mitment. ,0 See Patricia Wittberg SC, The Rise and Fall of Catholic Religious Orders (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1994), for an his-torical perspective on this notion. ,1 In November 1994, the Leadership Conference of Women Religious convened a think tank on the viability of religious institutes. As reported in that month's LCWR Update, the group searched experience for lessons. After looking at examples of the merger or reconfiguration of religious institutes, the suppression of institutes to create a new congregation, and the decision of a congregation to die with grace, the group concluded that the key element in each case was leadership. In every instance the out-come was shaped by the kind of leadership that had been exercised. 12 Clare Dunn CSJ and Judy Lovchik CSJ. Playmates Winter and springtime playing leapfrog together in March, April, May, Dorothy Forman OSF Review for Religious THERESA MANCUSO The Urban Hermit: Monastic Life in the City Does urban monasticism work? What is an urban hermit? How and why live a solitary monastic lifestyle in the midst of the city? Who are these people? New forms and expressions of monastic life have occurred historically throughout the centuries in both Eastern and Western Christian tradition. They continue to evolve today in the new landscape of the modem world where the hermit's life--the monk in solitude--is not lim-ited to a rural setting, but has found its plake in the city. Monks and nuns in the twentieth and twenty-first cen-turies will be eremitical and cenobitical; they will live in communities and alone, in the country and in the. city. Monastic life has but one rule: the Gospel of Our Lord Jesus Christ. The goal and purpose of the monas-tic way is union with God, the unification of the person, human salvation, enlightenment, and wisdomuin a word, happiness. Accordingly, monastic life in every time and place is a committed and consecrated endeavor to live faithfully by the precepts of Christ. The monastic voca-tion arises when and where it will in direct response to the call of grace. The urban hermit finds himself or her-self immersed in the spiritual treasures of monastic tra-dition, an integral expression here and now of that same tradition. Theresa Mancuso published "Reflection on the Solitary Life'-' in our September-October 1994 issue. She lives at 310 Beverly Road #4F; Brooklyn, New York 11218. seeking God March-April 1996 Mancuso ¯ The Urban Hermit Bede Griffiths, the charismatic, daring Benedictine who took his monastic vocation to India and back, wrote in The Marriage of East and l/Vest that: ¯. whatever the fate of this present world, the real need is to find a way of life which is able to survive all such disas-ters. In the Roman Empire it was monastic life which saved the world . . . monks who fled to the deserts of Egypt, Palestine and Mesopotamia founded a way of life based on prayer and work in conditions of the utmost poverty and simplicity and alone survived the collapse of the Roman Empire . . . [their] teaching and example led to the foun-dation of monasteries all over Eur6pe, in which the basis of a new civilization could be found. Today. there has been a revival of monastic life all over the world., centers of ferment which [may] gradually trans-form society and make possible a new civilization. The world of Bede Griffiths appears, perhaps, far removed from the noisy metropolis of New York, Chicago, Washington, Paris, Ba'rcelona, or Hong Kong. Nevertheless, the same ageless truths of which Bede spoke are the Gospel imperatives that call monastic life into being--new forms and old, today like yesterday. That which impelled Bede Griffiths to live his own monastic life a world away in the Hindu ashram is the same impetus that has given rise to solitary monastic ventures in the heart of the city. There is no geography, no time or place, in which monasticism cannot thrive and contemplative life grow. Prayer, work, poverty, and simplicity are the bedrock of a monastic heart. Alone as solitary or hermit or in the midst of community, the monk's path (monk meaning male and female) is to be immersed in God, preoccupied with the Gospel of Christ, living its life, breathing its breath, soaked in the perennial abso-lutes about which there is no ~luestion, no geography, no barrier of age, time, place, culture, or condition. In days of old, the desert was a city, according to D.J. Chitty in his classic work about early monasticism, The Desert a City. Today, perhaps, we can say it another way: the city a desert. What is this desert, then, so fundamental to the monk's life? Desert is wasteland, wilderness, barren solitude, profound silence. Desert is seclusion where the monk searches in prayer and penance, self-emptying (kenosis), th(deliberate renunciation of selfish desires, striving for inner emptiness, awaiting the hour of God's time (kairos), the manifestation of divine grace. Review for Religious The urban hermit is a kind of monk among many. Like monks everywhere, the urban hermit is consecrated to God by vows, sacred promises public or private, temporary or perpetual, worded traditionally--poverty, chastity, obedience, stability--or stated in creative new expressions. The meaning is the same. The monk is one, consecrated, offered, surrendered in complete dedication to God, steadfast in love, permeated with an all-encompassing charity that defines the heart of the monk as lover of God, com-passionate toward all God's creatures. Love sustains the lifestyle of the monastic vocation. Monasticism is a life of union and unity, communion and com-munity, silence and solitude, depth and diver-sity. Love is the call; love, the vocation; love, the path, the way, the meaning, and the reward. God, not a human inventor, makes monks. And this God does when and where he pleases. With the entire focus of the heart fixed on God, the monastic way may weave a strange thread indeed, not perhaps the dream one had in first embarking on the monastic journey. As life unfolds, so does the call of God. Consecration, dedication, immer-sion in Christ--these are what remains. All the rest is incidental. Accordingly, as the grace of God unfolds in pers.onal human history, the fine tuning of a monastic vocation eventually comes to fit the individual. In other words, who and what we are from the hand of God and our mother's womb finally dictates who and what we must become. The mystery of sanctification is some-times conditioned by transition, but it is always and everywhere in God's hands. To be consecrated means to live in the presence of God, to be centered in him, devoted to him, belonging to him, regardless of the conditions of life which are--after all--only the environment, not the essence of the monastic vocation. It is not surprising, then, or at least it should not be, that we have come to find monks and nuns living alone in the city, years and miles from where their monastic journey began. This, too, is caught up in the mystery of salvation. The beautiful Rule of Life created nearly twenty years ago by Father Pierre-Marie Delfieux for the Jerusalem Community-- monks of the city--says: ". You can live in God's heart at the heart of the city because it is his dwelling place. Be monk and nun in the very heart of the city of God" (No. 128). This is true What is this desert so fundamental to the monk's life? Marcb-dp~ql 1996 Mancuso ¯ The Urban Hermit of individuals as well as communities. Lacking financial endow-ment that might create the illusion of security, safety, and afford complete separation from the world, the urban hermit must go out every single day into the hustle and busde of the city just to make a living. And this is exactly as it should be. To be "monk and nun in the very heart of the city of God" is to work in the midst of humanity, to suffer the problems and dif-ficulties of the job, the discipline of tasks that await one at the workplace. It is not a distraction to work in the real world. It is, rather, a call to the most generous and absolute imperative: to center one's heart by turning inward at the same time as one must turn outward in labor. There is no duality in this process; it is an act of unification, part and parcel of monastic experience. Laborare et orate. The work of balancing internal contemplative life with exter-nal work in the center of the city requires a kind of persever-ance. In the beginning, it may seem impossible to remain contemplative in the busy atmosphere of city life. But, no, it is not impossible. The heart cries out to God, "Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner," and learns, bit by bit, to pray easily in the midst of all the noisy activity and wild frenzy of the city. Over time, the monk in the world realizes the deep-est center to be one's own impenetrable fortress of joy, faith, Spirit, and Life. Later in his Rule, Father Pierre-Marie says: "What the early monks set out to seek yesterday in the desert, you will find today in the city. All monastic life is a fight and urban monasticism calls for fighters. Followers of Christ, the Beatitudes summon you to a life of real struggle in the heart of the city" (No. 129). There is no protection but God's for the urban hermit who lives and dwells in the real world, as stark and naked a reality as ever there was in the heart of the desert. Like the Desert Fathers and Mothers, the urban hermit knows the isolation and threat of the wilderness, the roar of beasts and the temptation of the heart. To find peace in the city is to walk with God in the deepest center of one's being. " The Monastic Typicon ofNeTv Skete (1980) says this about work: "Throughout history, our fathers and brethren in monastic life have taught that work is not only required to sustain oneself, but that it is equally important as a means of self-discipline and as an adiunct to prayer and worship and individual total growth. Review for Religious Work, therefore,ds part and parcel of our life, first of all, because it;is essential to monastic life in general" (Nos. 71 and 72). The urban hermit, bound by the same need to work that char-acterizes all persons, is fortunate if livelihood can be obtained working at home within the poustinia, but this is not always the case. In fact, it is rarely possible. The monk in the world must learn to accommodate to working conditions in the professions or elsewhere, whether the work~is manual or intellectual. Work joins the monk to all people of all time and place. "With the sweat of your brow shall you earn your bread" (Gn 3:19). Over time, work itself becomes sweet to the monk, for it is but another expres-sion of the inner song of the heart: "Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner." It has been said that it is not the habit that makes the monk. Nor is it the work. What is essential in mdnastic spirituality is that work and every other dimension of life be characterized by the interior spirit of recollection, purity of intention, and single-mindedness. Work is a sanctifying process, it is not a distraction. By reaching down deeper and deeper into the pool of faith in order to carry out one's work properly, the work and the worker will be immersed and bathed in the light of divine presence. Thus the monk in the marketplace is at home in God's world. In Contemplation in a World of Action, Thomas Merton wrote decades ago, perhaps the prelude for today's monk in the world: "Do we really choose between the world and Christ as between two conflicting realities absolutely opposed? Or do we choose Christ by choosing the world as it really is in Him, that is to say, created and redeemed by him? Do we really renounce ourselves and the world in order to find Christ, or do we renounce our alienated and false selves in order to choose our own deepest truth in choosing both the world and Christ at the same time?" The urban hermit, immersed now in solitude, now in actual labor outside the hermitage, seeks to integrate the contemplative life of the poustinia with the, marketplace where a living is earned. Renunciation of the false self and transcendence over the spirit of the world through the practice of interior recollection and con-templative prayer purify the heart and transform the effort to do one's best into the peaceful harmony that defines right livelihood. The monk is called by God to live alone in him--monos-- monacbos--one--single--alone. In community or in the hermitage wherever it may be, the monk strives to be of single .'focus. In the March-Apt41 1996 Mancuso ¯ The Urban Hermit marketplace the monk is living witness to the holiness of work, the goodness of the world, and the salvation of the earth by the mercy of God. As humility should characterize the soul of a monk, so, too, simplicity, charity, gentleness, tenderness, compassion will exemplify the detachment of heart that frees the religious hermit and enables the monk to live in the world without becoming worldly. The urban hermit strives to renounce that which is worldly (self-centered, egotistical, arrogant, profit-seeking, and decep-tive), to cast out and obliterate those attitudes of mind that block communion with God and harmony with one's fellow creatures on this fragile planet. The pure heart of God's solitary learns to return to the world as often as necessary, not as an adventurer seeking new pleasures or material power, but as one crucified in Christ, transfigured ,by Christ, restored to innocence and holi-ness of life. The soul of the monk, one would hope, gradually becomes transparent, clean, empty, full and brimming over with the joy that comes only from God. The Monastic Typicon of New Skete states that: "Prayer and worship are the major concerns of monastic life. Through the liturgical celebrations [monks] participate in the mysteries of the life and death of Christ, thus moving toward the universal reali-ties of resurrection and transfiguration" (No. 60). The urban her-mit, in communion with monks and nuns of every time and place, lives in the. paschal mystery of the Lord by entering into liturgi-cal celebrations, whether the Liturgy of the Hours or the Eucharist. The "divine office" marks the hours of the day, spiraling the soul in and out of psalmody, uplifting, descending, flying to God, returning to earth. The urban hermit, at work in the marketplace of the world, simply does not have the luxury of stopping to chant the Third Hour, the Sixth Hour, or the Ninth Hour of the day. Nevertheless, interior prayer should never cease, but accompany all our actions, those of labor and social intercourse, as well as the times and places when we are free to enter most deeply into the prayer of the church. Urban hermits try to celebrate as many hours of the "divine office" as are possible in the demands of every day, for life in the world requires the monk to be present to its concerns without losing the focus of vocation. Prime. Lauds. Matins. Vespers. Compline. At least pa~'t of the regular Hours m'ust be celebrated Review for Religio1~s alone or in the parish church if possible. Sometimes the urban hermit may join a religious community for the observance of litur-gical prayer. The wisdom of the desert is today the wisdom of the city-- that is, the city of God. It would be foolishness to overburden one-self by attempting to work a required 35 6r 40 hour week outside the hermitage and expect to be able to complete all the Liturgy of the Hours. Certainly, God does not require the impossible. The rule of faith is simple: Do what is possible. Do what you can. But do everything you can as best you can, with your whole heart, your whole soul, and your whole being. Concentrate the very fiber of your existence on that which is given to God without neglect-ing that which is given to people. What is the difference anyway between the basket-weaving monk in the wilderness of Egypt who goes down to sell wares at the marketplace from time to time and the computer-opera-tor monk in the center of Manhattan who commutes to Brooklyn or Queens by subway after work? It is the spirit, the heart of the monk---interior substance--that matters. That which defines the monastic vocation is singleness of focus. Prayer that is intimate and ongoing moment by moment, hour by hour, cements our union with God and prompts the conversion of our hearts over and over again, making holy not only our poor, fragile lives, but everything we touch and everyone we love. The monk is leaven in the marketplace and remains so by cherishing and using advantageously the secret silenc~e and deep seclusion of the hermitage, even when many hours must be spent outside. The Liturgy of the Hours is first and finally the greatest cel-ebration of the heart and the center of monastic life. It is the joy of Christians and the soul of monasticism. To chant the "divine office" is to enter again and again into the ageless mystery of Christ. Season by season, liturgical texts teach the heart, renew the spirit, and join humanity to God in the person of Christ, the only lover of humanity. Simplicity, charity, gentleness, tenderness, compassion will exemplify the detachment of heart that frees the religious hermit and enables the monk to live in the world without becoming worldly. MarclJ-Aptql 1996 Mancuso ¯ The Urban Hermit The monk at large may celebrate the Liturgy of the Hours in a monastery church with a community of brother or sister monks or in the parish church anywhere in the city or countryside of his or her abode. It does not matter. At the heart of the liturgy is found the whole meaning of the monastic vocation: to die and rise with Christ in fulfillment of the Father's will for the redemp-tion of the world. The Eucharist is the food of monastic life, its sustenance and joy. To find a monk who does not deeply love the liturgy is to find a sorry sort of monk. Therefore, time and energy must be made available to participate properly in the celebration, of the Eucharist. This is the heart and center of the monastic life. As practiced by Pachomius and the monks of Eastern Christendom, the Eucharist was celebrated weekly, not daily, though it remains the privilege and practice in the Latin rite to celebrate Eucharist daily. The liturgical chants that surround the Eucharist provide spiritual nourishment and food for contemplation. The urban hermit goes forth from the church after participation in the liturgy, and carries back to the city and back to the hidden place of his or her own poustinia the wealth of Scripture that echoes in the prayers of the Eucharist. Be it a tiny .apartment in a busy housing complex or a huge industrial or professional workplace, the chants and meaning of the Liturgy of the Hours and the Eucharist remain with the urban hermit all day, eveory day, feed-ing heart and mind with those things which endure, the living breath of contemplative life. Finally, the urban hermit learns to safeguard religious seclu-sion and solitude which provide the depth of silence and cen-teredness that is indispensable to the monastic way. The integrity of monastic life and the monk's personal steadfastness in this voca-tion arise from that wellspring of silence and solitude that ripened by seclusion. Nevertheless, the monk in the city must never become a self-preoccupied hermit whose reclusive tendencies spring from self-deception as if the world were a contagion to be avoided at all cost. A balance of solitude is derived from a healthy view of reality. The opposite is unsound. To live in the midst of the world as an urban hermit is not to sacrifice or minimize the essential quality of seclusion and solitude necessary for ctntemplative prayer. Urban hermits are usually not reclusive. To go inward for the sake of contemplation is a dis- Review for Refigious cipline of the heart, not an act of walls and fences. Monks in the world must come and go; while cherishing and protecting the inner sanctuary of monastic seclusion that is an essential element of the hermit's life. They accomplish this by setting and main-taining proper boundaries. Hospitality and social needs are part of reality--essential for psychological and spiritual balance, no more, no less. They, too, like everything else, must be harmonized with reality in the vocation of the city monk. All the more must the urban hermit learn to bal-ance seclusion and secular involvement, for, being alone, he or she needs to understand what constitutes a necessary monastic enclo-sure in the world and what constitutes run-ning away. Extremes can best be avoided by studying the Gospel of Jesus Christ. The Lord went apart to pray; he rested in the desert and returned to the city. So, too, the monk in the marketplace needs separation from the world. If monks today are to be the salt of society, "the monastery" must be accessible to all, so that they (those in the world who come into contact with monastic life) "may savor its life, its worship, and its message" (Monastic Typicon of New Skete, No. 28). The monk who goes forth from the silent sanctuary of a quiet hidden hermitage in the midst of the city to work and walk among the people of the world does so from necessity and generosity to let the world taste and savor the consecrated life, what it is and what it means, inviting the world to share in the worship and message of the monastic vocation. We must not hide from life, but embrace it, immersing every aspect of it into the mystery of Christ as we ourselves plunge our entire existence into the paschal real-ity, first at baptism, then throughout the day~ of our vocation. It is thus that all is transfigured b,y the grace of God and the entire cosmos shares in the transfiguration of Christ. For the urban hermit, this harmonious integration of all things is at the center of the monastic vocation. But tha~ is exacdy as it has always been for monastic life today and throughout its history--the still point in the turning world, where God and humanity meet and the spark of wisdom is given to illuminate the earth. To find a monk who does not deeply love the liturgy is to find a sorry sort of monk. Marcb-Aptql 1996 Mancuso ¯ The Urban Hermit I like to think Bede Griffiths or Thomas Merton, or indeed any of the great monks and nuns who are our spiritual forebears, might share a day or week in the life of an urban monk and find themselves altogether quite comfortable. They would recognize the rhythm of prayer, silence, solitude, work, hospitality, study, lec-tio divina, and liturgy. Those great followers of St. Anthony, father of Egyptian monasticism, or those who walk with St. Benedict, who codified monastic life--and all the others in between--should recognize in the urban hermit, monk in the world, the same hunger for God that led them in their own spiritual journeys. They would know the path, for it is one: forsaking all, embracing all, a voyage of the heart through dark and desolate places, remote and wild, desert and city, places where the monastic vocation thrives and God meets humanity in a singular embrace of love. References Chitty, D.J. The Desert a City. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1961. Griffiths, Bede. The Marriage of East and West. Springfield, Illinois: Templegate Publishers, 1982. Merton, Thomas. Contemplation in a World of Action. New York: Doubleday, 1971. At Hand but Unattended I spend my foolish life in search of marvels, of wonders to delight and startle me. The ordinary could not hold my interest, my soul each da. y demanded mystery.~ I envied those who lived when. Christ was preaching, who saw him work his wonders with a word. What drama to have seen a blind man sighted, the lepers cleansed, the deaf when first they heard. But, oh, how stupid I with all my longing, my searching for a miracle to see. I let my days go by, not ever grasping my miracle was God creating me. James F. Finley Review for Religious MARIE BEHA Enclosed in the Mystery of Jesus My " stery is a reality which we must explore from within, .a. ¯ .~. enter into, and live with. In contrast, a problem is some-thing we must externalize, be objective about, and solve. We pre-fer the latter, delighting in the challenge, the sense of mastery and control which it gives us. So we relish a "mystery" story just because it presents us with a whole set of "problems" to be solved. And we resist the mysteries in our lives even though we are fas-cinated by the breadth and depth of the big questions like "Where do we come from?" and "What is life?" Religious who freely choose to live enclosed lives present problems for many, even for many Catholics, just because they are so mysterious. Why would persons choose to confine them-selves within a drastically limited geographic space, associating, for the most part, with the same few people for the rest of their lives? It sounds as dismal as life-in-prison. But this is to make the mis-take of seeing enclosure in a problematic context. It is to bang our fists demanding an answer that satisfies us. It als0 misses the invitation to explore a mystery. Unfortunately, not much has been written on enclosure, and much of what has been done approaches it from its more prob-lematic side, presenting its canonical aspects, pointing out its rea-sonableness, or seeking to justify its continuance. Valid, certainly, since enclosure, like other incarnational realities, has external shape and form. Far more importantly, it also has a heart of mys-tery that invites exploration. Two contemporary efforts present the basic meaning of enclo-sure, inviting the reader to explore the reality to appreciate its Marie Beha OSC may be addressed at 1916 N. Pleasantburg Drive; Greenville, South Carolina 29609. March-April 1996 Beha * Enclosed in the Mystery of Jerus mystery. The first of these interpretations has been articulated by Sister Chiara Lainati in an article in Forma Sororum (vol. 4/5 [1983]: 200-203) where she describes it as a "particular way in the church of living out the paschal mystery . . . the emptying out of Christ on the cross" (p. 201). The second is that of Father Herbert Schneider:, who in his Commentary on the General Constitutions (private!y publ!shed, 1992, pp. 14-15), p[esents enclo-sure as "the place of decision to remain with the Lord" related to the statement of the Lord, "Remain in my love" (Jn 15:4). Each of our interpreters has the credentials to present this mystery of enclosure. Sister Chiara Lainati is a Poor Clare nun, a member of the protomonastery in Assisi, where she has served as abbess while continuing to do writing and research on topics related to the Poor Clare way of life. Presently she is the abbess of the small group of Clares pioneering a new contemplative foun-dation in the Vatican. Father Herbert Schneider has been provin-cial of the Franciscan province of Cologne and spiritual assistant of the Federation of German-speaking Poor Clares. At present he is in Rome as the delegate general to all communities who claim affiliation with the Franciscan Order, including the Poor Clares, In this office he has visited monasteries all over the world, presenting workshops as well as attending chapters of Poor Clare federations. Although papal enclosure directly involves only a few Christians, the reality which it symbolizes is a staple of Christian living. Each of us in our own style of life needs to incorporate such values as stability, participating in the paschal mystery, and remaining in Christ. To do this we have to accept many kinds of limits, including geographic ones. Enclosed in the Paschal Mystery Sister Chiara Lainati's "Enclosure: Characteristic Way for Clare to Express the Paschal Mystery" begins by rejecting the more traditional interpretations of enclosure as a "means" of pro-tecting chastity or of promoting the life of contemplation. In cri-tiquing the latter she points out that today there are other more suitable means, such as courses on prayer or the word of God. In her view, enclosure, like the other vows, is a way of entering more deeply into the self-emptying of Jesus. Just as poverty is described traditionally as a renunciation of material possessions, chastity as; Review for Religio us renunciation of sexual intimacy, marriage, and family, and obedi-ence as renunciation of one'~ self-will and determination, enclo-sure "limits a person in space, impoverishes her in her possibilities of action and of spatial liberty." This points out the "underside" of all the vows; they all include a saying "no" to some important human values, but only for the sake of a saying "yes" to some-thing else. "In this perspective enclosure has value in itself, as an opening of oneself to grace, just as Christ, alone on the mountain, was open to the contemplation of the Father" (p. 14). Sister Chiara treats of the origins of Clare's profession of enclosure. She believes that it originated during her brief stay at Sant' Angelo di Panzo, after she had left the Benedictine Monastery of San Paolo and before Francis took her to San Damiano, which was to become her true home. According to Sister Chiara, the group at Sant' Angelo was a community of recluses and penitents from whom Clare took "the completely new and revolutionary idea of a bond of deeper union in that kenosis of Christ which is his solitude of death on the cross" (p. ,1'5). Parenthetically Sister Chiara mentions that enclosure was not forced upon IZlare but was' her own free choice; there were other options even in her own .day. Witness the Beguine movement in which groups of pious women lived in common and practiced the corporal works of mercy. Clare could have chosen a similar form of active ministry, but she seems to have felt called to a lifestyle that included the discipline of enclosure. The question, then, is not whether Clare was enclosed, but the why and the bow of her choice. Both, according to Sister Chiara, evolved as expressions of the mystery of the kenosis of Jesus. Over and over again, Clare emphasizes the importance of "keeping one's eyes fixed on Jesus" (Heb 3:1). Specifically she urges Agnes of Prague to look in the mirror that is Jesus and to see reflected there the Infant Christ and the Crucified One: Look at the border of this mirror, that is; the poverty of him who was placed in a manger and wrapped in swaddling clothes. Then at the surface of the mirror, consider the holy humility, the blessed poverty, the untold labors and bur-dens that he endured for the redemption of the whole human race. Then in the depth of this same mirror, con-template the ineffable charity that led him to suffer on the " wood of the cross and to die there the most shameful kind of death. March-April 1996 Beba * Enclosed in the Mystery of Jesus Let us respond with one voice, with one spirit, to him crying and grieving who said: Remembering this over and over leaves my soul downcast within me (IV LAg. 19:22- 26). Looking at Jesus Crucified was not idle speculation for Clare, nor just an exercise in contemplative piety. For her, seeing involved not only believing but also living out of that belief. It meant imitation, a putting on the Lord Jesus that brought about a profound interior change. It was participation in the mystery of Jesus. As Clare looked at Jesus, what she saw was not only his bod-ily suffering but at a deeper level the. self-emptying that was sur-render to the Father's will. It was the same self-emptying that marked the incarnation ("He emptied himself, taking the form' of a servant" Ph 2:7), continued all through his active ministry ("My food is to do the will of the one who sent me" Jn 4:34), and culminated in that last triumphant cry, "Father, into your hands I commend my spirit" (Lk 23:46). What does it mean to empty oneself?. At first glance this seems a contradiction. To let go of externals, persons, or things, is theoretically possible, though dif-ficult, but to empty self of self?. How can that be? It sounds, at best, like looking for a way to lift oneself by oneself. Where could one stand, take hold of oneself, to initiate the process? Mystery again. First of all is the mystery of what we mean by self. And if that were not enough, there is the still greater mystery of the process itself. Self, as well as self-emptying, like all mysteries, can only be discovered from inside ourselves. Each of us already has some experience of what we mean by se/fwhen we say, "I am not my best self .today," or affirm, "Yes, that is true of me. That is the way I am." In each instance we have some core experience to which we turn, the bedrock of our personal identity. We recognize ourselves even when we cannot give anything like an adequate description of who we are. This is so because the self that I am is a very sim-ple concept, one that cannot easily be broken down. There is no simple recipe that will blend the right ingredients into a whole we can identify as myself Adding up qualities never sums identity. We can only work toward self-knowledge within the revelatory context of our everyday-lives. This process of self-discovery is initiated with the beginnings of consciousness and continues till death. It is dynamic, a lesson Review for Religious never completely learned but essentially ongoing. Initially the focus is on relating self to an external world, distinguishing myself from other realities. So the baby discovers: I am separate from the surrounding bed, different from mother. How separate? How different? The former distinction will be discovered quite easily; the latter may never be completely accomplished! But this is only negative knowledge: I am not .Ahead lies the whole range of positive identification: "I am .". Others hold up a mirror of how they see us and we begin to discover ourselves in that reflection. I am. baby. I am. good baby., sometimes! Fortunate the individual whose first feedback from others is real-istic and basically positive. Inevitably some of it will be neither. Others may identify us with their problems, ignore us, threaten us, deny us, abuse us. Initially we are almost completely dependent on these impressions received from others; that is why these are so formative. Most of the rest of our lives, we will experience some flashback of these first experiences of who we are. As time goes on, we begin to accumulate a growing memory bank of others' perceptions and of our own self-reflection; together these become the core of our identity We learn how we relate and are related to others, what we can and cannot do, and why we choose or refuse as we do. We come to describe ourselves in such obvious ways as age, sex, size, and shape but much more significandy as smart or stupid, as lovable or unlovable, as good enough or not good enough. Over time these labels take on the reality of personal identity; true or false, they are who we think we are and so tend to become self-fulfilling prophecy. Still, this self-concept that forms me is not written in stone; rather it is as fluid as the flow of time and changing life circum-stances. I can and do become a different person, changing in ways that are more or less profound. Acquaintances who say "I hardly recognize you" may be noting only superficial characteristics. Others who know us better remind us, in the face of surprising changes in the externals of our lives, "I always thought you might. ," under-lining the continuity that is our basic identity. So where does self-emptying come into the picture? What could it mean? On one level it can mean that openness to change which allows us to grow and develop. Unless we are willing to let go of some of our past and present identity, our self-concept remains the same. Detachment is needed if we are to move away from previous self-definition. So change, even freely chosen and Marcb-~lplql 1996 Beba ¯ Enclosed in tbe Mystery of yesus The more significant the change the greater the threat, but conversion never comes without a price tag. desired change, can be painful. It poses risks; our self will never be the same, and We have grown accustomed to its face. The more significant the change the greater the threat, but conversion never comes without a price tag. Yet this is not the fullest meaning of self-emptying. Change is self-improvement or self-destruction, depending on its direc-tion, but self is still very much in the picture. We want it to be; this is how our functional self will grow. Even when we make a destructive choice, we do so under the delusion that this is somehow to our imme-diate advantage, mistakenly opting for imme-diate gratification rather than wait for the slower-appearing benefits of disciplined effort. As our functional self becomes more clearly delineated, we find ourselves growing in per-sonal security. Faithful response to the chal-lenge of ongoing conversion prepares us for another level of letting go; we begin to be capa-ble of self-forgetfulness. The focus shifts from me at the center of the world to a broader view that is increasingly other-centered. The inse-cure .adolescent (of whatever age) grows into the generous adult capable of entering the world of the other with fewer repeated nervous glances back to "how am I doing?" Who of us has not admired individuals mature enough to hold in creative tension the concerns of self with those of oth-ers. Secure in their self-identity, they are not so preoccupied with their own needs that they cannot even see those of others. Nor are they so involved in meeting the neediness of others that the self is at risk of'being destroyed in the process. The latter is only a dis-gnised form of self-gratification that threatens dual destruction. The maturity that makes self-forgetfulness possible opens the self to the world of others, allowing for a truly personal rela-tionship, a dialogue of love. The bonding of parent and child, of a long-married couple, of friends, all exemplify letting go of self for the sake of being with, being for, another. In these experi-ences we begin to discover the paradox that in losing ourselves we find ourselves. We become more ourselves because of the other, and we are grateful. These loving relationships that are first lessons in self-for-getfulness can begin at any age level; they continue for life and are Review for Religious always maturing. But they are not self-emptying. In self-forget-fulness there is still a self, with the focus shifting back and forth between self,and others. We are ourselves and we identify our-selves in loving the others, as loving the other. Self-emptying goes deeper still. Preliminary to it is our will-ingness to allow it to happen. "Let this attitude be in you which was also in Christ Jesus" (Ph 2:5). The self needs to accept self-emp-tying, such is the exquisite courtesy of God who always waits on the consent of our freedom. Still, the initiative is God's inviting us, gradually readying us, then asking us if we are ready. Our hearts must answer, not just our heads. The question: Where is your trea-sure; what do you really want? If our wholehearted response is: God, first of all, more than all, most of all, then the center of self changes. We are no longer just ourselves; our life "is hidden now with Christ, in God" (Col 3:3). This is where "we live and move and have our being" (Ac 17:28), and "I live now, not I . " (Ga 2:20). What was formerly said as pious slogan, then desired more or less seriously, now begins to be realized in our "mortal flesh." This is first experienced with the same sense of awkwardness that accompanies other beginnings. More than just strange, the loss of self is painful. Where is the I? What is happening? Even to ask these questions is to focus back on self. We might expect such a return to normal self-reflectiveness to feel familiar; it may not, and this will be even more disturbing. Who am I and who am I becoming? These questions may be natural enough, but they are no longer important or even relevant. We have to let them go, never mind the risk. This shift from I to the Other of God is as gradual as all other growth. For' a period of time, more or less prolonged, the self is sometimes operative and sometimes gone. We lose ourselves and then recover ourselves. Sometimes our activity will seem self-directed, self-reflective; at other times our focus will move to a self-forgetfulness that allows for a going beyond self. In all of this, though, we are free to say "yes" or "no." We cannot make it happen; that is beyond us. What is ours to do is to accept the divine action or refuse it. The latter occurs when we become afraid, clinging nervously to self; when we yield to the pseudosecurity of self-directed activity; when we try looking back over our shoulder to see ourselves. All of these are perfectly nat-ural, not supernatural; nor do they represent the level on which we are being invited to live. March-April 1996 Beha * Enclosed in the Mystery of yesus The simple truth is that we are no longer our own. We belong to another. "We are God's people, the sheep of God's flock" (Ps 100:3). It sounds fine in general! However, in all the particular-ity of our own experience it presents the most intriguing of mys-teries. Only through generous participation will we be able to share the new life being offered to us. While it is certainly true that we are experiencing a loss of self, it is even truer that we have never been more ourselves. This is who we really are: a creature, created in God's image, redeemed, sanctified and enabled to live divinely./~ are in Christ Jesus. Our truest self exists, lives, only in God, our beginning and our end. This is the self we are called to be "now and forever and forever." How does enclosure further this process of self-emptying? Sister Chiara Lainati states this without developing specifics. I believe the answer lies in the way that enclosure loosens the hold of the functional self and at the same time makes more possible a kind of primary centering on the other that is God. At- least that is its potential; like all of the other vows, enclosure provides an opportunity but does not automatically accomplish what it offers. Let us begin with the loosening of the grip of the functional self. Enclosure clearly limits personal geography so that we become very familiar with our surroundings; we are freer, then, to let go of our self-regarding, cautionary self without endangering life or limb. Contrast this with the degree of anxious concern that marks our traveling into strange space. In the same way, customary rela-tionships with familiar persons relax the ego's grip. We are freed from such self-regarding questions as: Who are we in this new relationship? How are we affected by it? Those are always self-regarding questions. At home and relaxed, we can be ourselves, forget ourselves, and be readied to go beyond ourselves. Similarly, within enclosure, simple, familiar work frees from those compet-itive, complex work situations that underline self-achievement, self-accomplishment, and the building up of the functional self. Put in a more positive way, by limiting one's field of vision, enclosure intensifies the seeing. Like a spotlight, it centers atten-tion on Another. This is illustrated by the inscription over many medieval monastery gates, "God alone," that was both a warning and a promise. Nothing else would be found within; self-seeking would find itself either badly malnourished, trying to satisfy itself on meager rations or starving to death; that was the warning. The promise: Beyond the self God was waiting. Review for Religious But only if the asceticism of an enclosed life was accepted graciously and lived faithfully. Included in the discipline: fidelity to the limits of physical geography, to intracommunity relation-ships and noncompetitive work. But none ,of these can be inter-preted in too materialistic a way. It is the heart that matters, the spirit that must be set free. Limited physical geography can imprison, circumscribed relationships can shrink one's world, and simple work can leave the mind dangerously idle. All such prac-tices can also become self-congratulatory, just as fasting can feed the ego. Each individual must discover for herself and then incorpo-rate into life the particular practices that will allow her to go deeper into the paschal mystery of Jesus. For example: Curiosity may need to be controlled though its object is legitimate; reading, even of a spiritual character, may need restriction lest the func-tional self become too active; even some self-satisfying forms of vocal or mental prayer may need to be abandoned. Examples could be multiplied; what they would have in common is the self-emptying that allows for a more complete immersion into the mystery of God. To the degree that this occurs, enclosure comes to partake in the paradox of the beatitudes. Emptiness will be filled with the fullness of God; being confined will bring greater freedom. Going apart will result in being still more a part; limited apostolic oppor-tunity will hasten the coming of the kingdom through a deepen-ing of the baptismal grace of being "buried with Christ" to "rise to new life with Christ" (Col 2:12). Relating enclosure to the paschal mystery of Jesus as Sister Chiara does permits new emphasis on its sacramental character. It has outward signs, but these point toward a deeper interior reality. But the new life within that is the exciting possibility of enclosure is not guaranteed. Nor is enclosure in the canonical sense of the term the only means. The same process of self-emp-tying for the sake of deeper immersion in the mystery of God can be accomplished in many different life circumstances. For example, fidelity to the limits of a geography circumscribed by poverty or illness, of family relationships stressed by contempo-rary nonvalues, of routine work that offers little room for self-congratulation-- all these can become occasions for self-emptying or for self-seeking. The choice is ours. Freely choosing to live ¯ within the limits of enclosure of whatever kind can be fruitful. March-April 1996 Beha ¯ Enclosed in the Mystery of yesus Though the limits and limitations of any kind of enclosure are real and should not be diluted, its basic purpose is positive: fuller participation in the mystery of God and growing freedom. When chosen as part of an ongoing vocational commitment, it becomes a way of waiting on God, of bringing forth new life in the church and the world, of growing in the freedom that is the power of Christ's redemptive death. Remaining in Jesus Father Herbert Schneider centers his presentation of enclo-sure around the gospel words "Remain in my love" (Jn 15:4). As he explains in his Commentary on the Poor Clare Constitutions, "Enclosure is the place of decision to remain with the Lord. The innermost enclosure is the space of the heart. In relationship to that, the enclosure of the building is a sign and a help" (p. ~14). Because enclosure is primarily a matter of the heart, Schneider suggests that a variety of interpretations may be given to its exter-nal form without changing its essential meaning. What is true is that enclosure has a value of itself and belongs to the basic ~ele-ments of contemplative life (p. 14). ~ Each life has a where, expressed on the geographic level when we say "My address is. ," or "I live in." and rephrased more significantly as ',IYm at home here" or "I no longer know where I am." In the latter two examples ~we begin to explore the way in which external space relates to the world of the psyche and, ulti-mately, to that of the spirit. In everyday parlance, we frequently use spatial metaphors to refer to internal realities: "personal space" and "individual direction." "Don't crowd me" can be meant lit-erally or it can be a graphic way of asking for more time, more space for personal considei, ation. Similarly, when we ask someone to show us the way, we may be hoping for directions on a map or direction fo~: life. As Schneider points out, enclosure is a spatial metaphor for the contemplative desire to remain with God. It is an incarna-tional reality, having both an external form and an interior real-ity. Either one without the other would be less than human, iust as an inanimate body is.only.a corpse and a disembodied soul seems conceivable only as a ghost (or an .angel). Viewed exter-nally, enclosure spells imprisonment, but for a contemplative spirit it provides necessary boundaries. Review for Religio~,s To live contemplatively requires space; that is the basic truth Schneider emphasizes. The external boundaries of enclosure pro-vide sacred space where the heart can find a home. This experi-ence of at-homeness is a familiar one, hopefully, to most of us. Although it may be difficult, even impossible to explain, we know there are places, circumstances, relationships in which we can relax, be ourselves, be at peace. We cher-ish these places, seek to find them, even try to create them. So where is a contemplative at home? Essentially, there is only one place, one circumstance, one relationship: in God. "Our hearts are restless till they rest in thee." Augustine knew from personal experience that we are at home nowhere else. Remain in me, dwell in me, abide in me--the same central truth is nuanced in a changing variety of translations. All use the imperative. We are told in the most direct of terms what we are to do: make our home in God. Though we might like to reduce this to a harmless figure of speech, the gospel command is insistent in its reality. In John's Gospel the details are spelled out with evangelical insistence: "Remain in my love" On 15:9) and "Remain in me, as I remain in you" On 15:4), Where can we find a lasting home? Only by living in love, .remaining there, abiding there. We like the idea, but we protest its impossibility. The world in which we live is not a very loving place:' Unfortunately, that misses the point completely. At issue is not the world around us as much as the world inside us. It is we, .at the very center of our being, who are to abide in love; it is our choice, our decision. No one, nothing outside, can evict us from this home. I may not wish to remain there; I may prefer to roam, seek-ing diversion anywhere I can find it. I am restlessly on the move, changing geography or just changing the subjecwI may look for diversion in the media or seek distraction in idle chatter. I may even allow my mind to slip down into dark valleys of personal gloom or climb the bright uneasy slopes of critical judgment. Any Although it may be difficult, even impossible to expla!n, we know there are places, circumstances, relationships in which we can relax, be ourselves, be at pe.ace. March-April 1996 Beba * Enclosed in the Mystery of yesus escape seems better than no escape. All such forms of selfishness seem to promise oases, but prove to be only deserted places. We need to remain where we are in the reality that is ours: present space, immediate situation, personal relationship, even when this is not comfortable, even when we might prefer to be some place., any place., else. Here is the geography of our real-ity, the enclosed space, that allows us to live in truth and in love. Only when we attempt to remain in this loving truth of pre-sent reality do we discover how much unreality pollutes our human situation. Where we try to live is too often only a castle in the air, a mirage. No wonder we cannot find much of a living there. We cannot dwell where we are not. So we must move on. If the direc-tion of our seeking moves us toward home, then we call our change conversion. The moving now becomes a pilgrimaging, a seeking for our true home. Pilgrims we will always be in this life since the only place where we can have a lasting abode is in our eternal dwelling place. But already in this life we do have a home in God, the God who dwells in the center of our hearts. This is where we must remain in the here and now, loving God, ourselves, others. Then we expe-rience ourselves at home. It is the remaining that often becomes problematic. Monastic enclosure is meant to offer a way of doing so. Time and space for God are its first promise. By setting boundaries on who comes and goes, it reserves a generous amount of time and space that Can be filled with the things of God. Again, what is offered is the opporttmity; what is necessary is faithfulness, not just to making use of the time that is available, but also to the specifics of our own personal vocation. What prayer is God inviting me to here, now? ~- At variant times we may find ourselves called to renewed litur-gical dedication or to a silent waiting on the Lord. Ours may be a prayer of pain or one of more generous service. There will be seasons when we will easily dedicate ourselves to thankfulness and other times when it will be all we can do to muster a decent amount of joy. What remains the same: Be faithful in prayer and you will find the Lord. And find yourselfl This can be even more problematic. People expect to find God (perhaps a "dream" God) within the enclo-sure; they may not be as acceptive or expective of the self they will discover as well. Limited space inevitably brings one face to Review for Religiot~s face with self. Lacking a place to hide, we must face ourselves and learn to love the self that we really are, not the self that we often pretend to be. It is the reality of ourselves just as we are presently that God loves, so we do not have an option about self-acceptance. Remaining true to ourselves opens the door to real love of neighbor. Again, we need to embrace others, not as we would like to remake them, but as they are in Christ Jesus. When we mistake our self-centered labeling of others as lovable/unlovable for the judgment of God, we are left in the darkness of untruth. We do not dare stay there. The only place we can remain is in the all-inclusive tenderness of God's love. Life within an enclosed space is meant to make possible such a love, providing opportunities for in-depth relationships that are tested in the crucible of close living, that endure over a lifetime and bear fruit for eternity. The hope of life enclosed, as Schrieider points out, is that it "leads to nearness and to the ability for relationships" (p. 14). This capacity for relationships extends beyond the monastery. Again it is a matter of the heart. In the bond that is God's life-giv-ing love, all are potentially one. This essential unity is lived out in a faith that makes enclosure as wide as divine mercy and as tender as infinite compassion. Again, no pious dream, but vital enough, to inspire a life of everyday sacrifice and self-giving for the building up of the Body of Christ (Ep 2:20)! This is enclosure's spaciousness, its redemptive power. Slowly, gradually, what was once.intellectual assent to faith's truths becomes experience. We are so united "in Jesus" that each person embracing truth and growing in freedom affects the life of all. We never act alone, because we never are alone; our soli-tude is peopled with all the people of God. When these experi-ences become personal, the contemplative no longer feels constrained by enclosure's limits, but, rather, finds fulfillment in remaining there~ at home in the heart of God. The gospel speaks of such remainirig as living in love and also as living in Jesus. There is a sense in which the two descriptions are redundant; to remain in love is to remain in Jesus. What the latter expression adds is helpful personalization along with the unbelievable promise of a certain reciprocity. We live, are, in Jesus and Jesus lives, is, in us On 14: 20). What does it mean to live in Jesus? For one thing, it requires us to remain in the word of God, allowing it to penetrate our March-Aplql 1996 Beha * Enclosed in the Mystery of yesus very being, shaping all our beliefs, our actions. It means living according to the holy gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ as every Christian professes to do. In practice, this may begin with a sim-ple willingness to takeup the Scriptures each day, remaining with them until the word of God sounds deep in our hearts, At each fresh reading of the gospel message, we ask: What is God's good news for me, today? What am I being called to say, to do, to refrain from saying, from doing? Over the course of time this abiding in the word of God begins to shape me, to shape us into gospel people. We become good news in our immediate environment, voices of encourage-ment, sources of strength even as we continue to grow in healthy awareness of our own weakness, for "when we are weak, then we are strong" (2 Co 12:10). As gospel people, we evangelize just in the living of our everyday lives. This remaining in the word of God that is an abiding in Jesus asks that more and more we live as Jesus lived. We think as Jesus thinks, "Let this mind be in you" (Ph 2:4), turning away from the preoccupation with self as well as the defensive criticism of oth-ers that often fill our thinking. Empowered by the Spirit of Jesus we speak as Jesus spoke, "with authority" (Mk 1:22), no longer threatened by fear or plagued by self-doubt. In Jesus, our lives teach, our touch heals. In Jesus we reach out to the poor, the sick, the troubled, the outcasts. The point of our remaining is not to recreate the past of Jesus' life in any literal sort of way. We are not first-century Palestinian Jews. For each of us, to live in Jesus requires fidelity to the cir-cumstances of'our lives. I need to ask: What is the mind of Jesus on my questions, the problematic situations of my days? What does Jesus say to the pleasure and pain that texture my days, the dailyness of my work, my leisure? In the silent spaciousness of the enclosure, these questions become, not pious, exercises, but literal necessities. I need to discover some specifics of an answer. Essential to such remaining in Jesus is the conviction that Jesus already remains in me. "Abide, dwell, live, in me, as I in you." How does Jesus live in me? In the constancy of faithful commitment, a covenant relationship begun in baptism and endur-ing through .all the circumstances of my life, unless repudiated by a definitive rejection on my part. Jesus lives my every activity; none are excluded as too ordinary, too human, too trivial. That is the truth revealed in the incarnation; it is the possibility of my Review for Religious baptism, but a reality that waits on the yes of my desire. Jesus enioys my joys, suffers in my pains, grows weary at the end of my days. His abiding presence remains a loving constant; only the unreali~ of sinfulness reduces my responsiveness. Unbelievably, we can and often do choose our own way rather than the way of Jesus. We temporize: not here, not yet. We assume control, seek-ing to fulfill ourselves. Fortunate the individuals who are open enough to realize such resistance and turn back. They find Jesus waiting, always there. Within enclosure the realization of our withdrawal, of the unsatisfying nature of our selfish pursuits, can come more quickly.There are fewer places to turn, more helps in returning and remaining faithful to Jesus living in us. Gradually, as Jesus lives more fully in us, we come to pray as he did: "Your kingdom come; your will be done" (Mt 6:10). This is where Jesus lived, where he remained: in the will of the Father. From the beginning of "I come to do your will" (Ps 40:8) to the end of "Not as I will but as you will" (Mk 32:36), Jesus had only one center, one place of peace, the will of the Father. If Jesus is to live ever more fully in us, we must stay in the same place. It must be at our every beginning so that it may be the end of all our endings. Sometimes it will be easy to accept God's will; at other times, costly. Ultimately, it will cost everything as we hand over our lives, with the same surrender of "into your hands" (Lk 23:46). This at the hour of death, but alsb in all the immediacy of today's letting go, for to live in Jesus is to die in daily surrender. Then eternity will be iust a continuation of that "remaining in Jesus" which has been the enclosed dwelling place of all our living. At each fresh reading of the gospel message we ask: What is God's good news for me, today? Conclusion Entering into enclosure is a matter of faith and hope. It is a lived expression of the belief that God is worth a whole life's seek-ing. Those who embrace the limits of enclosure find themselves freed for the paschal mystery of risen life through a going down into the valley of death-to-self and daily surrender. If they remain faithful, remaining in Jesus as Jesus remains in them, they will be March-April 1996 Beba ¯ Enclosed in the Mystery of Jesus transformed. No longe~: living for themselves, their lives "will be hidden now, with Christ, in God" (Col 3:3). This is what it means to live within the enclosure. This is to abide in the glory of that promise, "When Christ, who is your life, is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory" (Col 3:4). Who Am I? I am the woman tentatively touching the hem of Jesus' garment for healing, and having to tell what it is that ails me, and who and what have failed to heal me until now, all of Which was so much rubbish! I am the woman anxiously sweeping my floor in searchof the lost coin, the last coin I had to.live on. How happy I will be when I see it shining in the dust at my fee!! I am the Woman going into the temple putting that last coin of mine into the treasury. Then I will go home wondering whether it was wise of me to have relinquished the only treasure that I had! Bernadette McC~rrick RSM Review for Religiou.~ DANIEL J. HARRINGTON Biblical Contributions to a Theology of Aging This year I celebrate the twenty-fifth anniversary of my ordination to the Catholic priesthood in the New England province of the Society of Jesus. This year no one will be ordained a priest in our province. This year ten men will celebrate fifty years as priests, and fifteen men will observe their fiftieth anniversary as Jesuits. Priests and religious in the U.S.A. and Europe are aging, and so, too, religious life. As we grow older together, we surely need the intel-lectual and spiritual resources of our biblical tradition to help us along the way. Many people assume that aging and the elderly are major topics in the Bible. Perhaps they make this assump-tion because the early chapters of Genesis feature char-acters like Methuselah who live to great ages. Perhaps the reason is that the Bible, as an ancient and wise book, must have something important to say on these matters. But from a quantitative perspective aging and the elderly are not central concerns of the Bible. There is no lengthy biblical treatise.on aging and the elderly. Nor is there any uniform perspective in the rela-tively few texts that do deal with these topics. The more explicit treatments appear in the Old Testament. Old Testament Perspectives The people of the Old Testament lived in a traditional Daniel J. Harrington SJ is editor of New Testament Abstracts. His address is Weston Jesuit School of Theology; 3 Phillips Place; Cambridge, Massachusetts 02138. March-April 1996 Harrin~ton * Biblical Contributions to a Theology of Aging, The elderly were expected to be exemplars of wisdom and fear of the Lord. society in which the elderly were held in respect. Most biblical people did not reach the kind of old age that has become common at least in the U.S.A. and parts of Europe since 1950. And so in searching the Scriptures for wisdom on aging and the elderly we need to face from the start the differences between the Old Testament world and our own. We live in a society with little respect for tradition and social .status based on age, and with a great demandfor material productivity and accom-plishment. Moreover, our expanding life spans may be creating problems and possibilities that the bib-lical writers never imagined. Nevertheless, the Bible can contribute to developing a theology of aging today despite these obvious differences. Whatever one makes out of the life spans attributed to the patriarchs in Genesis 5 (930 years for Adam, 912 for Seth, 905 for Enosh, and so on), ordinary Israelites in the period covered in the his-torical books lived much shorter lives. It is safe to say that the lower classes lived between thirty years and fifty years (if they reached adulthood), that aris-tocrats lived between forty and sixty years, and that all regarded a life between seventy and eighty years as an elusive ideal. It was assumed that the elderly showed signs of aging (gray hair, beards for men), and began to experience physical infirmities. The com-mandment to honor one's parents in the Decalogue (Ex 20:12; Dt 5:16) was understood as applying primarily to adults and as urging them to care for their aging parents. It was regarded as a social norm and a divine command to respect older people: "You shall rise before the aged, and defer to the old; and you shall fear your God: 'I am the Lord'" (Lv 19:32). The elderly themselves were expected to be exemplars of wis-dom and fear of the Lord. Male and female elders had the task and privilege of handing on the social and religious tradit~ions. The critical treatments of elders in .lob and Qoheleth only serve to emphasize that in this traditional society the elderly were sup-posed to have an important place. As the testament-of-Jacob scene (see Gn 49) shows, the ideal was to die surrounded by many off-spring and to hand on property and land to one's children. The positive picture of old age in the Old Testament tradition is best stated in a block of random sayings in Sirach 25:3-6. Ben ' Sira, a wisdom teacher of Jerusalem around 200 B.C., concluded Review for Religious his lists of pleasant and hateful things (25:1-2) by expressing a loathing for "an old fool who commits adultery." By a thematic connection he then outlines some positive teachings about aging and the elderly: 3. If you gathered nothing in your youth, how can you find anything in our old age? 4. How attractive is sound judg-ment in the gray-haired, and for the aged to possess good counsel! 5. How attractive is wisdom in the aged, and under-standing and counsel in the venerable! 6. Rich experience is the crown of the aged, and their boast is the fear of the Lord. The three sayings (25:3, 4-5, 6) are only loosely connected by subject matter. The first saying (25:3) makes the point that the quality of one's old age--wise or foolish--grows out of the quality of one's youth. A foolish young person will probably grow into a foolish old person. The mere fact of old age does not work a drastic personal transformation. The second saying (25:4-5) lists the ideal characteristics of the elderly as sound judgment, good counsel, wisdom, and under-standing. These characteristics are basically synonyms; they all refer to the wisdom that is attractive in all people, especially in the elderly. The third saying (2 5:6) acknowledges the life experience of the elderly as a "crown" and holds out as the most important quality of the elderly the "fear of the Lord." Fear of the Lord is one of the chief themes in the biblical wisdom books and in Sirach in particular. It proceeds from an accurate assessment of who God is and who we are before God. It is not the fear that proceeds from anxiety and issues in avoidance or flight. Rather, it refers to the respect and awe that God deserves. That attitude of respect is the beginning of wisdom (see Si 1:14). From it, according to Ben Sira and the other sages, will flow whatever wisdom is necessary for finding one's way through the tests and trials of life. Wisdom and fear of the Lord are two sides of the same coin and express the positive ideal of aging in the Bible. The negative aspects of old age are best described in another wisdom book, Qoheleth (or Ecclesiastes). Here the focus is the decrepitude and death that are part of old age. In the final chap-ter (12) of his book, Qoheleth has clothed a depressing message in a series of exquisitely drawn images. The message is that old age means loss of pleasure, physical infirmity, fear, and death. Qoheleth's picture of the afterlife is shadowy at best: "The dead March-April 1996 Harrington ¯ Biblical Contributions to a Theology of Aging know nothing; they have no more reward, and even the memory of them is lost" (9:5). So for him the death that accompanies old age is all the more final. 1. Remember your creator in the days of your youth, before the days of trouble come, and the years draw near when you will say, "I have no pleasure in them"; 2. before the sun and the light and the moon and the stars are darkened and the clouds return with the rain; 3. in the day when the guards of the house tremble, and the strong men are bent, and the women who grind cease working because they are few, and those who look through the windows see dimly; 4. when the doors on the street are shut, and the sound of the grinding is low, and one rises up at the sound of a bird, and all the daughters of song are brought low; 5. when one is afraid of heights, and terrors are in the road; the almond tree blossoms, the grasshopper drags itself along and desire fails; because all must go to their eternal home, and the mourners will go about the streets; 6. before the silver cord is snapped, and the golden bowl is broken, and the pitcher is broken at.the fountain, and the wheel broken at the cis-tern, 7. and the dust returns to the earth as it was, and the breath returns to God who gave it. 8 Vanity of vanities, says the Teacher; all is vanity. The one addressed is urged to face the negative realities of old age ("days of trouble") when even the prospect of the years to come gives no pleasure and life seems to be dark and stormy (12:1-2). In a beautiful but disquieting set of images Qoheleth compares the process of aging to the decay of a house fallen into disrepair (12:3-4): loss of eyesight and hearing, loss of teeth with which to chew, and inability to sleep soundly. Then with other images he calls attention to the fear, the loss of desire, and the obsession with death that can be part of old age (12:5). Death is described with images of breaking the silver cord, the golden bowl, the pitcher, and the wheel (12:6). In death the body becomes dust and returns to the earth, while the breath "returns to God who gave it" (12:7), not to immortality or resurrection but at best to the shadowy existence described in 9:5. Death, like all of life (see 1:1- 11), is empty, mere "wind," without lasting substance (12:8). Old age as Qoheleth paints it with his marvelous images is painful and depressing. Young people should enjoy life while they can. The ideal of old age is fullness of wisdom and fear of the Lord (Si 25:3-6). The reality of old age may well involve bodily infir-mity, loss of physical and emotional powers, and fear; death is Review Jbr Religious inevitable (Qoh 12:1-8). In the Jewish tradition it is the duty of adult children to care for their aging parents. That obligation is clearly stated in the Decalogue: "Honor your father and your mother, so that your days may be long in the land that the Lord your God is giving you" (Ex 20:12; Dt 5:16). Starting from the commandment in the Decalogue, Ben Sira in Sirach 3:1-16 presents an instruction on the duties of adult children to their aging parents. After addressing his pupils as a father addresses a son (3:1), he gives some reasons why children should care for their parents: 1. Listen to me your father, O children; act accordingly, that you may be kept in safety. 2. For the Lord honors a father above his children, and he confirms a mother's right over her children. 3. Those who honor their father atone for sins, 4. and those who respect their mother are like those who lay up treasure. 5. Those who honor their father will have joy in their own children, and when they pray they will be heard. 6. Those who respect their father will have a long life, and those who honor their mother obey the Lord; 7. they will serve their parents as their masters. Caring for one's elderly parents conforms to the divine order of creation (3:2), atones for sins and merits spiritual treasures (3:3-4), gives good example to one's own children (3:5a), ensures that one's prayers will be heard (3:5b) and that one will live a long life (3:6a), and honors God (3:6b). Ben Sira (and all the biblical writers) lived in a society in which honor and shame were important values. How one appeared to others and in relation to them was very significant, far more so than in our modern individualistic cultures. Failure to honor one's parents brings a curse from them and disgrace in the eyes of others: 8. Honor your father by word and deed, that his blessing may come upon you. 9. For a father's blessing strengthens the houses of the children, but a mother's curse uproots their foundations. 10. Do not glorify yourself by dishon-oring your father, for your father's dishonor is no glory to you. 11. The glory of one's father is one's own glory, and it is a disgrace for children not to respect their mother. The final part (3:12-16) of Ben Sira's instruction gives par-ticular attention to the situation of caring for a parent who loses mental abilities ("even if his mind fails"). It recommends patience and fidelity and promises a reward from God: March-April 1996 Harrington ¯ Biblical Contributions to a Theology of Aging 12. My child, help your father in his old age, and do not grieve him as long as he lives; 13. even if his mind fails, be patient with him; because you have all your faculties do not despise him. 14. For kindness to a fathe~ will not be for-gotten, and will be credited to you against your sins; 15. in the day of your distress it will be remembered in your favor; like frost in fair weather, your sins will melt away. 16. Whoever forsakes a father is like a blasphemer, and whoever angers a mother is cursed by the Lord. Ben Sira's insistence on care for one's parents as leading to forgiveness of sins (3.'3, 14) is especially interesting in light of his own shadowy concepts of afterlife and his enthusiastic support for the Temple's system of sin-offerings and sacrifices. He appar-ently regarded faithful and patient service of one's parents as a privileged way of atoning for one's sins in this life. The three wisdom texts that we have looked at say much of what there is to say about old age and the elderly in the Old Testament. Indeed, they summarize most of the wisdom about these topics outside the Bible and into the present. Their con-tent would have been taken for granted by people in New Testament times. New Testament Perspectives The New Testament does not explicitly offer new and radically different teachings on aging and the elderly. What it does offer is an outline of spirituality that can help aging people and others to confront the reality of old age in faith and confidence. The Old Testament story of salvation began with God's call to Abraham in Genesis 12 and the promise to make of his descen-dants % great nation." We are told that Abraham was seventy-five years old when he departed from Haran (12:4). God's promise was then fulfilled through the birth of Isaac when "Abraham and Sarah were old, advanced in age" (18:11). Thus the history of God's people begins in an unlikely and improbable way--from a child born to a very old couple (21:5). According to Luke, the story of salvation through Jesus Christ began with the elderly couple Zechariah and Elizabeth and with the birth of John the Baptist to them. Likewise, the birth of Jesus is properly evaluated and proclaimed by Simeon and Anna in the Jerusalem Temple. These two figures represent the best features of Old Testament piety. Simeon is described as "righteous and Review for Religiotls devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel" (Lk 2:25). He is granted the privilege of seeing and proclaiming the newborn Messiah before his death: "Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace." (Lk 2:29). Anna also, at the age of eighty-four, culminates a long life of piety by praising God and speaking "about the child to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem" (2:38). These two elderly representatives of God's people see in the child Jesus what the religious and political lead-ers of Israel failed to see in Jesus the adult. It is intriguing that elderly people--Abraham and Sarah-- begin the history of salvation according to Genesis, and that elderly people-~Zechariah and Elizabeth, and Simeon and Anna-- recognize clearly the new and definitive chapter in this history that began with the birth of Jesus. These elderly people exem-plify the wisdom and fear of the Lord that are the biblical ideals of old age. They speak the language of the Scriptures (especially Second Isaiah) to proclaim eschatological fullness in Jesus the Messiah. Their openness to God and trust in God allow God to use them as unlikely instruments in the history of salvation. The ways of God are very surprising. While Simeon and Anna provide positive models for elderly people who are serious about the surprising ways of God, we can-not disregard the negative aspects of old age so well described by Qoheleth. Although the New Testament does not deal explicitly with this topic, there are New Testament texts that speak elo-quently to us as we face the physical infirmities and fears that accompany old age. Like Ben Sira and Qoheleth, Jesus was a wisdom teacher. One of the earliest and most eloquent teachings we have from Jesus is his instruction about dealing with anxiety in Luke 12:22-31 (see Mt 6:25-34): 22. He said to his disciples, "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. 23. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. 24. Consider the ravens: they nei-ther sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! 25. And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? 26. If then you are not able to do so small a thing as that, why do you worry about the rest? 27. Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. 28. But if God so clothes the Marcb-~lpril 1996 Ha~ngton ¯ Biblical Cont~butions to a Theology of Aging grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you-- you of little faith! 29. And do not keep striving for what you are to eat and what you are to drink, and do not keep worrying. 30. For it is the nations of the world that strive after all these things, and your Father knows that you need them. 31. Insteakl strive for his kingdom, and these things will be given ~o you as well. Though not directly addressed to elderly people, this instruc-tion concerns issues and questions that disturb elderly people especially: How long will I live? What will I eat? What about my health? What will I.wear? Jesus deals with these issues on two fronts. On the one hand, he exposes the futility of anxiety: It does not achieve anything positive (see 12:25-26). Simply telling peo-ple not to worry is not enough to combat anxiety. Jesus places before us some positive considerations about God's care for us and about God's kingdom as the goal of our lives. He first insists that life is more than food or clothing (12:23), and then urges us to consider how God feeds the birds (12:24) and clothes the lilies in splendor (12:27-28). If God so cares for birds and flowers, how much more does God care for us human beings. Jesus reminds us that God already knows what we need (12:30). The primary goal should be striving for God's kingdom, and everything else will fall into place. (12:31). There is great wisdom in this instruction, and it is particularly pertinent to elderly people. But sometimes anxiety turns into reality. Few of us leave this world without experiencing physical or emotional suffering. Here the apostle Paul has some eloquent things to say. Paul took over early Christian formulas of faith that describe Jesus' suffering and death as "for us" or "for our sins" (see Rm 3:25-26; 1 Co 11:24; 15:3). He himself used similar formulas as a matter of course (see Rm 5:6; 14:15; 2 Co 5:14,'21; Ga 1:4; 3:13). These expressions affirm that Jesus as God's servant (see Is 52:13-53:12) suffered and died on our behalf, and so made available to all--Jews and Gentiles alike--right relationship with God and the possibility of eternal salvation. We are saved through Christ's suffering. According to Paul, Christian life involves participation in Jesus' suffering and death as well as his resurrection: "We have been buried with him by baptism into death" (Rm 6:4). This shar-ing continues after baptism: "For just as the sufferings of Christ are abundant for us, so also our consolation is abundant through Christ" (2 Co 1:5). Elsewhere Paul says that we always carry "in Review for Religious the body the death of Jesus" (2 Co 4:10). Paul's ideal for himself and for every Christian is to be "conformed" to Christ; that is, to take on the very "shape" (morphe) of Christ: "I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his suf-ferings by becoming like him in his death" (Ph 3:10). For mil-lions of suffering Christians, identification with Christ and participation in his sufferings have provided meaning and comfort in the midst of suffer-ing, and still do. In the Deuteropauline letter to the Colossians the theme of sharing Christ's suf-ferings takes an unusual turn: "In my flesh I am completing what is lacking in Christ's afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church" (Col 1:24). This cannot mean that there is something deficient in the rec-onciliation brought about by Jesus' death and resurrection. The whole New Testament and Colossians 1:19-20 in particular stress the sufficiency of Jesus' sacrificial death. What then does Paul's suffering fill up? The key expression is "Christ's afflictions," or, more accurately, the "tribu-lations (or, woes) of the Messiah." According to contemporary Jewish texts (I Enoch 47:1-4; 2 Baruch 30:2) God has set a limit to the tribulations associated with the Messiah's coming. The state-ment in Colossians 1:24 applies Paul's sufferings to that fixed amount of suffering that must occur before God's kingdom arrives in its fullness. Thus Paul's suffering shortens the time before the fullness of God's kingdom (see Mk 13:20) and contributes to the faster vindication of God's church. This text, which has been a great inspiration to suffering (elderly or not) people, needs to be understood in its proper theological and historical context. Other Pauline texts provide important advice for elderly per-sons (and others) who suffer. In 2 Corinthians 12, Paul, in answer-ing the critics of his ministry as an apostle, boasts about his weaknesses rather than about his strengths and accomplishments. He does so on the basis of what the Lord said to him: "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness" (2 Co 12:9). In a world that associates power with strength, Paul reminds us that the true power of God is manifested most bril-liantly in the weak---as was the case with Abraham and Sarah, and with Simeon and Anna. Few of us leave this world without experiencing physical or emotional suffering. March-April 1996 Harrington ¯ Biblical Contributio~.~n~.to~ Tb__eo,~lo.~f~A.~n,.g' Eternal life for Christians, according to Paul, begins with baptism, since eternal life comes from participating in Jesus' death and resurrection (see Rm 6:1-11). Therefore death and sin no longer exercise absolute dominion over us. We are already living our eternal life. It does not begin at the moment of our death. The line between physical life and physical death is no longer de

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 5.2 of the Review for Religious, 1946. ; l~/Iarch 15,,,1'946; NUMBER. i RgvIgW,FOR L.IGIOU S.: ¯ VOLUi~tE V " 'MARCH 15, 1946 : NUMBER 2 " CONTENTS BOOKLET NOTICES . . ~ - : ¯ , ,.84 " ~BIL~. OF RIGH'~S FOR RELIGIOUS James E. Risk, S.J . VOCATION BOOKLETS . , . °92 '\ OUR "CONTRIBUTORS . 92 - THE PARTICULA~R FRIENDSHIP--Gerald Kelly,'S.J .9.3. CHRISTIAN UNTOUCHABLES ?--John E. Coogan, S.J, . "COMMUNICATIONS . : . ; ¯ ¯ , 113 GOD FORGIVE~ AND FORGETS--Clarence McAuliffe, S.J .1. OUR LADY'S LACK OF FEAR--Charles F. Donov~n, S.J. 122 ,'QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 8~. Toties Qucties Indulgence in Community Chapel . ~. ¯ . L26, 9; Indulgences on Beads not Ldst by Restringing . . : . 126~ I0. Pater.nAve. and Gloria at Each Station . 11. ,Visit to "Church or Public Oratory;' in Community Chapel ., ~ 127" 12." :Foundaffqns for Ma~ses . 13. "Stretching" and Disposalof Holy Water . 128 14. Dispos!tion of Life Insurance by Religigus . 129 15. Holy Week Services in Hospital Chapel . ]31 ~ 16. Profits from S;~les Placed in School Fund ." . . . 2 . 132 BOOK REVIEWS~ ,John Henry Newman: Sermon Outlines; Splritual;Problems of Our Times; The Splendor ~f the Rosary; Going His Way; Gregorian Chant; Speech Models: 'The Divine Pursuit: The State in Catholi~ Thotlght: The Life of of Our Lord; The Flowering Tree: The Priest of the Fathers: The Religion Teacher an, d the World; Pascal and His Sister 0~cqueline; The Clean Oblation: Heads Above thy.,Stars 1~3 ¯RECOMMENDATIONS ¯ ¯ . . . " . 143 BOOKS RECEIVED , . . 144 R~VIEW FoR RELIGIOUS, Marcfi, 1946. Vol. V, No. 2. Published' bi-inonthly; January, March. May,,July, September. and November at the Co!lege Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka.Kansas, by St. Mary's College; St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as secohd class matt, er January "at the Post Office, under the act of March 3, '1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. A.ugustine Ellard~ S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. ! Ed~torial,Secretary: Alfred F. Schneider, S.J. Copyright, 19:46 b~ Adam C Ellis. Permission is hereby g.r~anted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due c~edit be given this rewew and the author. St~bscription price: 2 dollars& yhar. Printed in,~U. S" Before writing to us,,please consult notice 6n inside back.cover. B r ' , . - ~ ~.,G. Augt~stine Ellard "THE OUr Fathe~0 which Christ taught the ApostIes when . |.they had asked.Himhow to pray,, has always been con- .:~ sidered the :great Christian prayer Bar. excelter~ce. The Fat'hers of the Church, theologiansr and.spiritual writers have .vied .with one another in extolling its virtues, in ~xplai~ing its meaning,-and in urging the faithful" to make. th~ .mbst of it. Not. 10ng ~ago a-new translation 0f ¯St.-Te~esa's study of the Our Fath~_was published in thi~ .country (see ~his REVIEW for March 1943, page 135). In .~theie brief remarks the Our Father is onsidered mostly with respect,~to one idea, .namely,. that of the ~disposition -which itsuggests to prefer the. more.~erfe~t thing. -~ : In view of th~ magfi~cen.t promise~:m~de by. cfiriSt to those ~h6"~ray and"bf fhe special merits of this, Hi~ own reco~mdnded f0rmul~ for ~r~ye¢~:~n~ would.expect 5hat ~he results achieved by it~would be incalculable. It is hardly conceivable.that a. Christian who prays atall would not 'sometimes use the.OAf Father. But gg'~ matter of factare its ~ruits as good and a~ great as the tree seemed' to promise? ¯ .~e gan hardly blame the~.prayer itself~ ~0ssibiy khe fault lies in.th~ state of will of him who pronounces it. '~Y~ ask ~and~ ye receive not, because ye ask ,amiss" (3ames 4:3, ¯Westminster Version). Possibly; as. St. Augustin~ sug-gests, we ask badly, or we ourselves are bad, or we~ ~sk f0r~ ~bad: thifigs. " . ~ - The Our Father consigns of two pfineipal parts: the invocation~nd the petitions. -~e opening word~, ';Our Father, who art in heaven,", constitute the invocation. ~e ¯ .number of.petitionSi~ variously giveh by ~aiious authori- . - ties. Since~St. Augustine'm0st ~estern~wrif~rs count Seven. G. AUGUSTINE ~ELLARD Reuiea~ for Religious The Greek Fathers and most ,modern-commentator~ take-all the hst .w.ords", .Lead us not into temptation, but deli¢ero us from evil," together and find only six." By t.akihg the words, '.'Hallowed be T, hy name," as an expression of praise and reverence rather than a request and joining them with what was given above as the invocation, the numbdr of petitions may be reduced to'five. In.any case these requests fall into two groups oi part~. " As in the case of ~he decalogue an~d of the two great commaffd-ments (Matthew 22:40), the first, part refers to .God, the sdcond to man. In the first thiee petitions, we seeb the glory of our hea~,enly Father, in the last three [if sixbe counted] the .advant:ige of ourselvgs and our fellows. But there is n9 sharp line of separation between these two. The glory of God is a blessing to His children, and what behefits them is a'glory t0 their, heavenly Father., Thus, while the first three petitions sh6w the end which ~ve should have in view the a~ccomplishment of Gdd's glory, kingdom, and will: the last three show the means provisio.n, pardon, and protection. The [different members of ~the] t.wo tril~lets corresp~r~d thus. The first petition is addressed to God as our Father, the°secOnd as our King, the third as our Master. We ask our Father for sustenance, our King for pardon. our Master for guidance and guardianship. The transition from the one triplet to the other, from man's re.gard for God to God's care for man, is made in the third petition; which would raise earth t6 heaven by securing that God's rule~ should be equally complete in both.- And in each ~riple.t the~e is progression. In the first, the hal-lowing of God's name leads to the c0~ing of the kingdom, and the coming of the kingdom to the perfect fulfilment of God's will. In the second, the obtiiining ot~ good is followed by the remo~,al of evil, past, present, and future. (Plummer,~.Comrnentaq/ on. S. Mat-thew, ,96.) The words of the invocation, "Our Father, who art in heaven," remindus at once who' God. is, who we are, and what our relations to, Him are.- Hence they su'ggest what our dispositiffns toward Him should be. With immense ~ondescension and 'liberality God ~vishes to be cailed upon and regarded as a father rather than, say, an almighty and 74 Mbr~b, 1946 : " .~ ::-:~F~:L~)RD'S,"P.P~'Y~R eternal "lord: Address.ing i~im a~ Father. w~ are .reminded that our feeling toward Him should be filial and full. of childlike.' love and confidence. Since He is a°father .who .dwells in heaven, we recall that our reverence, love, anal confidence should be in proportion to the h~ight and, mag-nitude of heaven: His infinite excellence asia father'c~lls for the be~t possible attitude upon our part.: If, as is more likely, we :address, not the First. Person, but all-three Persons of.the Blessed Tr~inity, as Our Father, God's incom-prehensible excellence and what our filial spirit should be are brought out into still greater relief. Moreover the fact .that our Father is in heaven should help us to realize where our true home is, where our.inheritance is to be found; and how great and permanent it is. If we ~dare to. call-the ~infinitely great and high God :"OutFather," we ought. feel thatour manners and lives should correspond to that- . dignity. Arid'if we t, ake complacency in God as a father, it would be oi~ly reasonable that we should give .Himoccasion to bepleased with us. " " -Of the petitions; th~ firstis: "Hallowed be Thy name." "'To hallow" isan old English term for":t0 make holy." The mode. of ex~pression is Semitic. '.'.Name" stands~'for the divine nature0r rather for God Himself in: sofar asHe ~i~s known, name being that.by which one. is ,known. We cannot make God more hol~; but' we .can recogniz~ Hi~ sancti~y an~d honor it.and"s~rive to mttke:0th~rS revere it, We. can acknowledge th~ immeasurable perfec~ibri¯ hnd excellence of God, admire it, esteem" it, love it," and exert ourselvesto bring others to the knowledge and love of God. In other words we can glorif~ God; and, briefly, that is what we pray for here. Before asking for anything for our-. selves, we show our willingness to look to God'sown inter-ests. Before begging for the means, we :petition for the end, namely, the divine glory, with which our own' beati- 75 ~. AUGUSTINE.ELLARD Reoiew ~or Reh'glo~s .~de is r~ally identical. Thus this firs~ request has°f0rqts object that which~ is ~highest and best. and~ ultimate in0~the -.whole scheme of things, the end Of~creatlon°and of the uni-verse. . , _~, ¯. If we tell God that we desire His glory, it,is o~nly rea-sonable that we should understand what we. desire~ and really 'mean what We understand. To glorify.,God ~is n~ot so much to keep reciting "Glory be to the Father., .'"as to share in His perfection, pa.rficularly in. His knowledge and love of His own infinite goodness. Thus we manifest~it.and acknowledge i~. in proportion as we make ourse_,lves better sons of G6d and advance in the knowledge and'10ve Of Him, we mirror forth and appreciate, His grea~hess more'-and more and s'o add to. His glory. That is what ~e profess to desire. Now there is ~nold axiom-to the~effect that he w.h0 wills ~he end, wills the means a!s0. in our prayer we do not e~xpress a limited, desir,e;: we ,wish°simply ~ind ~ithout r~se_r- ~vation th~it.God be glorified. If;that wish be whglehearted, we shall be willing to use all the means reasonably at our disposal. We, shall be glad not 'on!y-to do some things for the glory.of God, but all that we can; we shall be willing to use the be(ter means, ~to choose the bette~:- or more perfect way to the enid. ~The best ~of all ways of glorifying God's sanctity is to fulfill that ancient injunction: "Be ye holy because I-the Lord your God am holy" (Leviticus -19:.2). The second petition is: "Thy kingdom come": that is, "May Thy rule be extended." ".The devout Christian prays that the divine reign.may prevail everywhere.and at'all .times, individually and socially, in private derisions and publicpglic.ies, in,Church and'in State. The kingdom~of God will come to the Christian himself when he removes all,obstacles to 7divine grace and gives it his fullest coopera-tion. ~He hopes similarly, that infidels.and~fieretics will be con.v~i~ted to God, that°sinnerswill reform, that the tepid "Match, 1946 THE LORD'S PR~YER will become fervent, and that all Will become perfect: God Hill reign in the State Hhen it publicly and officially.hQnors Him, promotes His cause, and .lets all its laws and acts be inspired by His spirit.~ The divine kingdom will-come fully to ~he ChUrch when the human eli~ment in it is brought into cbmplete harmony with the divine, and when all members of the Mystical Body attain perfect adaptation to their Head. If all nations should treat one another with justice and charity and live in peace and concord, the king-dom 'of God would come to" the peoples of the world. Finally, we pray that- the celestial reign of God, with con.- summated gloryfor Him and final bli~s for us all, may not fail to arrive. "It seem~ evident enough th'atone who expresses to God, a desire that His kingdom should come in all its fullness and grandeur--and who is not satisfied with half-measures-- ~should realize that, to be consistent with himself, he o.u, ght to be willing to do whatever he can to advance that coming. He could not at the same time really wish for gomething and not do his best to bring it about. Rather he will be alert discern the opportunitlies given him to promote .God's inter-ests and glad to make the best use of them. Next follows'the third petition: "Thy will be done on - earth as it is in heaven." From the moral and spiritual point-of view this i~ probably the most practic~l part 6f the ~vhole Our Father. Doing the will of God is assuredly the gr.eat means both of glorifying God and of expanding His rule, at least in so far as achieving these purposes dep,ends Ul~On us. . Here Our Lord instructs us, to follow His own example: "I am come down from heaven, not to do'mine own will, but the will of him who sent me" (John 6:3"8) ; "My food is to do the will of him that sent m~, and to accomplish his work" (Ibid., 4:34). .o In the total will of God we may distinguish His abso- 77 G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD Review for Religious ~fite will and His normative will. The former-is manifested in the couise of events inasmuch as these are independeiit of our control and shbject'only to .-the direction of divine providence: Misfortunes which c6me Upon us without any. act-of our own.exemplify this division of the will' of God; ~so do fortunateoo~cui:rences .which we have nothelped to briiag about. When therefore one recites the. Our Father, he Jiubmits it would seem,-at least implicitly, to whatever Providence may have in store for him. One may accept all these dispositions of the divine absolute will for God's own" sake, for one's own, .or even for the good of. souls. ,Rever-ence for God's supreme dignity and unselfish love for His infinite goodness could move one to accept becomingly and bear patiently, say, a painful, lingering illness. Enlightened self-interest would lead anybody wh6 really andpiac~ically believes in th~ divine guidance of events to take things as il~ey come from the infinite wisdom, benevolence, and power of his own heavenly Father. A man who says .this petition sincerely,-and realizes what it means, Shares in God's providence. He makes God:s plan. for him his own and then, strives-to accomplish it. He iswise enough to that no other counsel could be better. The normative'will of God is addressed to Our intelli-gences and wills., and depends upon us for" its accomplish-ment. It is simply that which is indicated by the divine precepts and counsels. To°the precepts, or as we may Say, to the preceptive Will of God, belong all laws, divine or human, imposing an obligation in ~0nscience, whether~ serious or slight. The object of the counsels, the directive" will of God, comprises all thegood or better things that God recommends and would like to see us embrace. They are proposed but not imposed: The evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience are an example. So is, other things being equal, giving ~i generous alms w_hen a 78 Marcb, 10~6 '- THg LORD'S PRAYER less¢.r One would satisfy all obligations, or receiving Holy. Communion daily rather than only once a year at Easter time.' Docility to grace will be a response to the pieceptive will bf God when grace inclines one to obey a legitimatd commandment, and to the directive will of God when His influence inclines one to some additional gdod that is not obligatory. In many, if not most, religious institutes of modern origin, the rules of.themselves pertain to the direr-- rive will of God. Evidently enough, in heaven God's will is carried out by each and every angel and saint with the greatest possible perfection, even down to the last little jot and ~tittle. It °could not be otherwise. He therefore who profes.~es to desire that God's will be executed on earth, just as it is done in heaven would, it seems, commit himself to doing his v~r.y .best for God. If that desire is genuinel and as long aS it remains genuine; he will not refuse to adopt any reasonable means to realize it. Of course it is not at all implied that so much generosity is of obligation. .~ This disposition would be the most perfect that one could have; and, if maintained steadily, it should quickly lead one to a very high degree of, virtue. One who wills. just what God wills would participate in the maximum possible measure in' the w.isdom and sahctity of God, in His divine work, in His peace, and eventually'in His Beatific life in heaven. All real and true reasons are in favor of a~dopting and kdeping such a .disposition; against it there can be only apparent reasons. All the reality of God Himself; a veritable infinitude of reasons, is on that side of the scale: His divine dignity and majesty calling for the deepest reverence, Hi~ boundless goodness alluring to wholesouled love, His im-mense, and numberless benefits suggesting gratitU'de, His outrag,~d excellence' demanding penanc, e and sa'tisfaction, and similarly with all the other'divine attributes. EaCh and ~G. AUGUST ~INE~ELLARD Re~ieua [or'Religlou8 ever~y divine attribute is an inexpressibly potent in~entive to carry out God's will on earth as in heaven. Self-interest will impel the enlightened Christian to strive manfully to execute, the whole planof God during his ear[hly p~lgrimage as he will hereafter. No other,pro-gram. could promise fewer disadvantages and more ad~an-rages. Even if~ t~e designs of God should contain much sufferiffg for one, .as in fact they-often do for those whom God loves most, those tbibulations would be still greater opportunities. ~One may losea cent, but one would gain.a dollar. God's service pays ~ell~ ~hatever God"intends for any of His children is meant eventuallyfor~that per-son's enrichment and ~appiness. If a man were looking out purely and simply for his own. profit, the best course that he could choose would ~e precisely that which God has already chosen for him. His prudence could hardly surpass God's,. he cannot love himself more than God loves him, nor could his e~cienc¢ improve upon the divine method. To attain fully to the.life and beatitude destined for us, it is necessary .to do all that enters into. the divine scheme for. that .purpose. And God's wishes are always possible and reasonable and accommodated to our weaknesses. _ The words "on earth as it is in heaven" may very,~ell be understood not only with the third petition, but al~0 wi~h all the first three petitions taken together. If so; We should pray that the way in which God is glorified, His kingdom brought about, and His will carried out in this life should be like that in which those great effects are achieved among the blessed. That would indeed be the best possible prayer. "In any "case these words prepare us for humbler~ requests. From the ~ivine-heights we descend to our human~needs. Havi0g, sought the .kingdom of God,:and, -- His justice, we are in a .better.positi6n to geek material bles- ~Marcb, 1946 THE LORD'S PP~YER sings. After professing 6ur willingness to do all that God asks of. us, 'we can more decently and.confidently go'on to ask for things for ourselves. Hence it is logical in the next place to pray for our natural necessities: "Give us this day our dail~; bread." We acknowledge that we depend~ upon our heavenly Father for even such lowly and .common things, as~ bread. We dq not ask for delicacies or luxuries but for that which js necessary or becoming. Nor do we desire" an abundance of material good: a supply for the present is enough. .In the fifth petition, "Forgi've us our itrespasses, as we forgive those who trespass agai.nst us," we are admonished of our sinfulness, sincg we must beg for the remission" of it; of our continual frailty, since we must plead fo~ indulgence continually; of God's willingness to pardon, ~ince He teaches us so to ask ~or cancellation of our debts; of ~he condition upon which it depends,, namely that we forgive ~others; ~nd finally of the measure in which we may expect it. "Pardon and-ye shall be pardoned; give, and it shall be given to you; good measure,jpressed down, shaken together, running over, shall they pour into your lap. For with what m~asure ye nieasure, it shall be mealsured~unto you in return" (Luke 6:38). .Thinking of God's liberality and benefits and the gratitude we owe Him should remind us of the contrast between the generous way in which He has treated us and the ungrateful manper in. which we have behaved toward- Him. A sense of shame and sorrow" will make our plea for fo.rgiveness more effective. It foilows that the greater our debt to God, the greater is our need of good will. The best means of paying tha,t debt~for p~ist sins ,is to have the best disposition to fulfill the whole plan and Will of God in the future, always to cho6se the more perfect alternative, to let grace abound where before we pr,efe.rred sin. Similarl~r the best way of making reparation to the 81 G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD Review for Religious Sacred. Heart of Jesus is to try fully to do what pleases- Him best. Finally we-pray for protection, an obvious.r.equest for ¯ a child to make to a father. This petition refers to the future as the One for-pardon regards the past and the0ne:, for provision pertains to the present. "Lead us not into temptation"-: that is, "Do. not permit us to get into circum-stances in which we should be allurdd t0.sin and, as a mat-t~ r of fact, really yie.ld to ~theoenticement." We do not ask simply to be freed from temptations. -That would.ind~ed be in itself a most excellent and desirable thing; but it ~ould not be in a~cordance with the present order of divine" providence and would hardly be granted. But we do hope with God's grace to be shielded from dangers of sinning that w6uld be too great for us and to-do well ih those that ¯ God for good reasons does permit. We ask for the necessary help to turn such dangers into profitable opportunities. Now~ one would hardly deny that the first means of dealing well with t~mptations and of turning them to our benefit~ rather than allowing them to ruin us moially, is precisely to make the best use ofthe power we already have at hand to do good and avoid evil, that is, to do as much .good as we can. Doing our best implies choosing what is relatively to Us the more peri:ect thing-. The best defensive heke at~ least is a total offensive against the forces of evil. " ' Havi.ng asked to be saved from falling into sin, we end by.begging" for deliverance from evil: "But deliver us from evil.''~ There never has been agreement as to just-what is meant by "evil:" Some understand it generally of what-is" bad, and others of "the dvil one," that is, the devil. The latter sense is preferred in the Westminster Version:~ :'But deliver us from the evil one;" (Matthew 6:1.3) : Again some consider these words to be a parallel expression of the petition, "Lead .us not into t.emptation," and others" take 82 ThE LORI)'S PRfi.YER them tO constitute a new petition. It seems advisable, with St. Cyprian, to understand evil in the most comprehensive ".sense and also t.o interpret these final words as summing up aH our requests to Gdd. Thus we should ask to be freed from all evil whatsoever, moral and physical. Included would be sin, mortal and venial, imperfections, and phys.b cal evils such as disease, destitution, .war, and so inasmuch as they would be an impediment to our moral ~ progress) Anything at all that would prevent-us from realizing God's plan in its entirety and from winning-.for ~ ourselves and for others the full measure of beatitude is really a great evil. On the other hand, we should be very shortsighted and unkind to ourselves to seek to be spared any 6f these tribulations or sufferings which in the end would redound to our greater good. With this disposition, .reaffirming our desire tO accomplish fhe whole divine plan for us and fully to c0~form to God's schemk of pr~destina:- tion for us, we would conclude our petitions on'a strong and noble note. Catholics are sometimes,surprised to hear non-Cath01i~S ending the Our Father With the wordb: ',For thine is the l~ingdom, and the power, and the glory forever. Amem" -These words are not a Protestant addition. They occur.in some. manuscripts of the New Testamen~ and have always. been used by Oriental Christians, Catholic as well as schis-matic or heretical. They are found at the end of the Our Father as it is recited at the altar in most of the eastern liturgies. HoWever they do not seem to have been a part of .the prayer as it originally came from the mouth of Christ. It is.generally ackngwledged now that they are a liturgical doxologywhich was added afterw.ards, in keeping ,with the general tendency to end prayers, psalms, and hymns with an explkit expression of praise .an~ glory to God. A similar formula, from the royal Psalmist himseif; addressing God 83 ~. AU~GUSTINE ELL.~D as father, may be read in I Paralipomenofi 29:10, 1I: "Blessed art thou, O Lord the God of'Israel, our father from eternity to eternity. Thine, O Lord, is magnificence, andpower, and glory . thine is the kingdom, O Lord." BOOKLET NOTICES From The'Apostolate of Suffering, 1551 North 34th Street, Milwaukee 8, Wisconsin, we have received the Good Samaritan Almanac: 1946 (25 cents) and "'Sunnie'" One of God's "'Pets," (10 cents). The latter contains the brief but -inSpiring autobiography of Vera Marie Tracy, author and poet.of the ~hut-ins. together with some of her sketches and poems. This little booklet is a must for all whowould learn from example how to find happiness in the midst of' suffering. Mother Frances Schervier: Foundress of the Sisters of the Poor of Saint Francis, by the Most Reverend Amleto Giovanni Cicognani, D.D., (a reprintof the Intro-duction to the biography of Mother" Frances). comes from Rev. Roland , Burke, O.F.M. Vice-Postulator of her cause. Mount AIverno. Warwick, N.Y. Retreats for Soldiers, Sailors, Marines, by James L. McShane, S.J. which aims to encourage veterans to make retreats, is distributed gratis by the Central Bureau Press. 3835 Westminster Place, St. Louis 8, Missouri. The Heart in Divine Praises, by Frail is P. Donnelly, SJ. contains a series of reflections on the Divine Praises (used ai" Benediction) and on th~ Seven. Last Words. The booklet may be obtained from the author at Fordham University, New York 58, New York. The Radio Replies Press, St. Paul 1. Minndsota.'sends the following booklets: .Theolpgg of the Crucitixion, 10 cents, ,by the Reverend Francis'X. Sallaway; The Mosaic Manifesto (Fhe Ten Commandments simply explained for children and converts), 50 cents: New Light on Martin Luther, 15 cents: Why Squander Illness? (Prayers and thoughts for Catholic and ~non-Catholic patients), 15 cents: The Music of Ireland, radio commentaries on Irish songs, 15 cents. The October 1945 issue of St. Meinrad Historical Essays is unique. It is devoted exclusively to Holy Scripture. The ten essays.are the first-fruits of. an inter-seminary contest sponsored by St. Meinrad Historical Essays for the purpose of arousing greater interest among seminarians in the stud}' and practical presentation of Holy Scripture. Some of the titles read as follows: "The Family Bible," "Motives for Reading Holy Scripture," "The Bible as a Book of Meditation." Seminarians should find interesting and profitable reading" here. Single copies ma]r be obtained. for 60 cents from St. Meinrad Seminar}', St. Meinrad. Indiana. The Reverend Julius Grigassy sends us "Devotions to Our Lord Jesus Christ Crucified," a timely pamphlet for Lent. This may be obtained from Prosvita- Enlightenment, 611 Sinclair Street. McKeesport. Pennsylvania, or from Amer. Russky Viestnik. Greek Catholic Union.Building, Munhall, Pennsylvania, Price: 15 cents. 84 ¯ A Bi!l o1: Right:s for Religious James E.'Risk, S.J. 44~RELIGIOUS has no rights!'_'. Too often the calm t~ atmosphere of a retreat has been disturbed by this ill-considered though pious maxim. Called upon to defend such a statement, a director, would doubtless interpret it to rn'ean the unlimiteh extent of the ~elf-renunciation demanded by the religious profession. B~it the ambiguity likely to arise from this and similar devout overstatements m.ay make for confusion in the" spiritual life of a religious who is reader to accept every such statement at its face value. In virtue of his profession, a religious enters into an agreement with his institute, pledging himself to seek per-~ ¯ fection according to the plan of life adopted by the same organization. The institute, on its pa.r~t, assumes certain obligations to be discharged in favor of the religious. Hence, the institute enjoys rights and the subject enjoys rights.~ ¯ The superibr, vested with the authority necessary to direct the activities of a community, is us.ually the custodian if need be, the defeiader of the rights of the.ii~stitute. The rights and duties of both superiors and subjects often need elucidation. The present article i~ directly con- -cerned.only with the rights of subjects. A brief explana- 0 tion of.the notion of a right will be followed by an indica-tion of the.sources bf the rights enjoyed by religious. The addition of a few illustrations will, we hope, clarify the explanation. What Is a Right? A right is a power to do or to possess something. It "is also said to be a title or a claim excluding interference on 85 JAMES E. RISK Rbuie~ [of Religious the part of others. One may-lawfully possess a house because he. has some title or claim-establishing his exclusive ownership of it. Perhaps he has bought oro inherited it. The purchase or the bequest gives him the title or claiin to it. ~ It is his. Or again, his claim or title may extend to some #piritual object, some imponderable, such as his reputation, a possess!on not to be ravaged ,by the tongue of the d~trac-tor.~ His person, too, is to be trei~ted with respect. To these rights or claims there corresponds the d.ut~l on the part of others not to interfere with their peaceful enjoyment. Hence, one is obliged not to pillage his neighbor's home, nor to.maim him, nor to blight his good. name by irrespon-sible gossip: Sources of the Rights of a Religious . All will readily a~dmit that in virtue of the act of self-surrender formulated in his vows, the.religious relinquishes his right to the independent use of material things; he sol-emnly- forswears the consolations.and the pleasures natural to the married state; most of his actions are, at least implic-itly, under the supervision of a superigr. Yet, after this abdication from the empire of self, the religious still retains some inviolable possessions. This residual dominion of. rightssprings principally from a threefold source. The natural law itself endows each child of the"human race with certain rights. Canon law extends this charter still, further. Lastly, this endowment of spiritual possessions is aug-mented by rights granted by the constitutions of the indi-" vidual ins~itu.te. In other words, a religious truly pos-sesses an.-aggregate ofhuman rights, a spiritual dowry emsatayb ilnicsihdeedn tbayll yG°o rde'manadrk H, tihs arte penretrsaennctaet iivnetos roenl iegaiortnh .d Woees-not imply ~he forfeiture of civil rights, though the exigen-cies of cloister'life may impose'some limits on,their exercise. 86 March, ¯ A BILL OF R~GHTS FOR ¯R~LIG~ous Be it remembered~ that neither the possession~npr the !egitimate.exercise of one%rigbt need be'detrimental to spir-i( ual progress. We may add too ttiat, while one may respectfully, insist on" the exercise Of his right, the actual manner in .which this right is exercised may be determined by the rule or by the competent superior. ~ , Examples of Rights from the Natural Law On profession day, a religious does not renounce his right to ~food and shelter or to the proper care of his health. While the precise manner in which these rights are, to" be reaiized is subject to the prescriptions of common life as indicated by canon 594, § 1, or to the special provisions of - superiorfi, the basic riglqt to the means of sustaining life and health remains. Brother Jbhn, fc;r example, requires the immediate attention of a dentist. The superior gives him permission [o visit Dr. Will, the community dentist; but "Brother John prefers, the ministrations 6f his personal friend, Dr. Albert) The superior in the. interests of com-- mon life insists on the community doctor. B~bther John, unresigned to the superior's decision, voices, his opinions about the violation of his rights to proper medicat or dental attention. "The natural right of the Brother to appropriate health measures has been r.espected by the superior. - He is not obliged-to make an.y purely personal concessions desired ¯ by a .subject. -- Recreation,~ in"quality and quantity becoming a reli- "greiloieuvse, tihse r teeqnus_irioend obfy c ltohiest enro lrimfe aaln dintod irvepidaiura tlh ein d aomrdaegre dto. cells of human temperament. To some kind of genuine relaxation, the religious has a strict right, a right often explicitly-incorporated into the gonstitutions or the legiti-mate customs of the institute. Entrance into the cloister doesnot imply, the forfeitur.e 87 JAMES E. RZS~ -~ Review for Religious. ¯ of one's" natural right to his good name. " A co-religious acquainted with his brother's transgression has the obliga-tion to forego the wanton dissemination of it among members of the same community. Even the public denun-ciation of a secret fault can~be the means through which an offending religious loses his reputation in the ey.es of the community. The censorship of one's correspondence, as an antidote .against Worldly contagion, is freely conceded by the reli-gious "of many institutes. Immune from this ,censorship is the correspondence destined for .or received from certain authorities mentioned in canon 611. To provide enter-tainment for others by making the contents of a relig!ous' correspondence the subject of recreational gossip would "be an infringement of the natural right to secrecy enjoyed by the. religious. The seriousness of such an offense would be commensurate with the gravity of the matter revealed, or with the degree of pain and humiliation, experienced by the writer, or with the resultant diminution 6f Cbnfidence in superiors, not to mention the disedificati0n in.evitably to follow. : - Rights from Canon L~W. ' The religious is noli only vested with nature's rights, but the Church through the medium of canon law clarifies and extends nature's grant. The special dignity of the religious state demands rev-erential treatment; it furthermore calls for immunity'from .the obligation of military service and from arraignment before-any but an ecclesiastical tribunal. These rights are derived from canons 614, 119, 120, 121., A novice has the right to choose freely the adminis-trfitor oi: his prdperty and to assign the revenue accruing, .from the same to the beneficiar~ of .his own choosing ~accdrding to canons569, § 1. 88 A BILL OF I~,IGHTS FOR RELIGIOU~ By.reason of canon 530, § 1, no moral pressure may be employed to extract the manifestation of c~)nscience from a religious. - Unless his condition was fraudulently concealed before his profession, an ailing religious has the right to remain in his institute by the disposition of canon 647, § 2, 2 ° The exclusion of a religious with temporary vows from renovation, or from the. final profession, for other than ~just motives would constitute a violation of the right extended to such a religious by canon 637. A right familiar.to all religious women is that embod~ led in canon 522, whereby a nun or Sister, in order to insure her peace of conscience, may seek the ministry of the occasional confessor. The favor of this.law is to be sought in a reasonable manner, however. Reason demands that this right be exercised without the threatened collapse of religious discipline, or the entailment of extraordinary expenses. While shopping, for example, a Sister may take advantage of her presence outside the convent walls to con-fess in some church along the route. This is her right; it is the corresponding duty of the superior not to impede the enjoyment of this right, nor to make inquiries in the mat-ter. Rights Conferred by~ Constitutions It would, of course, be impossible to give a detailed out-. line of the rights conferred or determined by the various reli~i6us institutes. However, worthy of particular men-tion here is the right to a reasonable amount of time and opportunity to perform with satisfaction one s spiritual duties. The very nature of the religious.life demands this; and every religious institute at least implicitly guarantees it. A schedule of teaching, study, or other activities that habitually absorbs the best time and vit.ality of a relig[o.us, leaving but fragmentary moments for the fulfillment of the o JAMES E. ~RISK Review for R~ligiou~. duties,most .proper. to his vocation, is an encroachment on the fundamental ~ight of that religioias, to avail himself of the ordinary means necessary to his spiritual well.-being: . . Another right that calls for more than passing mention is the right on the part of the religious to appeal or t9 have recourse from the decision of a lower to the judgment of a " higher superior. For example, canon 647, § 2, 4° gives to the dismissed religious of. temporary~ vows .the right ~to appeal to the Holy See, Specific provision for recourse in other matters is made in many ~nst.itut~es. Customand everi reason itself approve of this remedy. For the existence of this right is necessary for the harmonious "ftinctionifig., of . any organization. Like the judge_in a court of appeal, the -higher superior, artier a re-examination of the 'case, will-overrule or sustain the decision Of the lower superior. Appeal to a higher saperi0r generally supposes that the lower or local superiorhas already been app.,roached _by the subject for a reconsideration of the order: A reversal of ¯ decision by the local superior will eliminate, of course, the necessity of approaching the higher authority. In-some cases; circumstances may determine the imp~r.acticability or impossibility.of a reconsideration by the localosupe.rior. In exercising .his right of recourse, the religious should make as complete and dispassionate a statement as possible, proposing the reasons allege.d, by the local superior for his-refusal to revoke or modify the original decision. Natu-rally, the lower s~perior will be granted the opportunity to presen.t his side of the .case, for the indispensable rule for making an equitable adjustment of disputes is to hear b0tb. parti.es. While the. appeal~ is under consideration before the court of the higher superior,, the subject should comply w~iththe ~rder of the lower superior as far as-pos'sible. To illustrate this right of appeal or recourse: Suppose that .Father Clyde, an excellent litera~y scholar, but~ of, ¸90 BILL OF RIGHTS FOR RELIGIOUS iet~rded scientific growth,' has been assigned by the local superior to'teach.advanced differential equations: To avert an academic disaster and perhaps.a sin against justice, .he asks the. superior to recbhsider the appointmerit, and to readjust the clasg schedule. The'~local superior cannot see his way clear to modify the original schedule. " An appeal to the higher superioris now in order. Since the misplaced professor of .mathematics seems to rest his case on a basis of academic justice, he should present to his ¯ higher superior a complete picture of his scientific incompe-tence. The ultimate decision, favorable or unfavorable to the protesting teacher, would not reflect on his right to file his recours,e. Depending,on the canonical status of the par-ticular institute, a worthy case might find its,way ,to the hands of the superior general. Needless to remark, the.use of the right of appeal should be marked by an absence ~personal resentment; ~ather it should be char~icterized by sincerity and the sweet .unction of religious charity. -To compile an exhaustive list of .the rights of r~ligious, even if it were possible, would be quite purposeless for the present study. The limited, examples already given should suf/ice to lay the retreat ghost: "Religious have no rights!" The Code of Canon Law and the constitutions will reveal re.any others. imitation of Christ A last question. Should a religious, sincerelydor;scious~ of his rights, always tak~ measures¯necessary to insure their vindication, or should he b~ar in silence the further rationing of his already shrunken liberty? Provided' no detriment follows to one's fellow religio.us or to the good ¯ of souls, a love of one's spiritual progress and the desire for a close conformity to the Redeemer .might p~ompt, a reli-giot~ s to bear in silence an act of injustice or the violation Of JAMES E. RISK his rights and to. forego the exercise of his right of appeal: Peculiar circumstances and the advice of an experienced con-fessor will more accurately determine the course to be fol-loWed in a gixien case. To proceed without counsel in these matters is not recommended to young religious. Such then is our brief comment on the religious' bill of rights, the joint bequest of nature, of the Church, and of his own institute--a~heritage directed to guide him in his quest for perfection along the ways of peace. VOCATION BOOKLETS Informational booklets which explain the nature of vocation and describe the work of a particular institute seem to be growing in popuiarity. Most of.them make effective use of photographs and drawings to illustrate the text. The following have been received" in recent months: The Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet, ,from St. Joseph's Mother, House, 6400 Minnesota Avenue, St. Louis ~11, Missouri: Chosen Arrows, from the Ursu-line Nuns of the Immaculate Conception, Congregation of Paris, Louisville, Ken-tucky; The Gra~/moor Fathers: An Outline of Tl~eir Life and Work, from the Franciscan FHars of the Atonement, GraymOor. Garrison, New York: B~nedicrins Conuent Life° from Mount St. Scholastica, Atchison, Kansas: _,To Seek God (¯ clear and readable explanation of the "way and goal of the Benedictine Sister"). from St. Meinrad's Abbey. St. Meinrad, Indiana. What Others Haae Done, by Father Howard Ralenkotter. C.P. (Edit.) is ¯ collection of huh~an interest vocation stories;--facts, not fi~tion. Copies .may be obtained from the Good Counsel ~ Club. 5700 N. Harlem Avenue, Chicago 3'1, Illinois, Price: I0 cents (by mail 12 cents). OUR CONTRIBUTORS JAMES E. RIS~( is a professor of canon law at Weston College, Weston, Massa-chusetts. JOHN E. COOGAN,'a professor of sociology at the University of Detroit, Detroit, Michigan, is actively interested in promoting interracial amity. CHARLES F. DONOVAN is a student of' ascetical theology at St. Robert's Hall, Pomfret Center, Connecticut. CLARENCE MCAULIFFE, G. AUGUSTINE~ELLARD, and .GERALD KELLY are professors of sacramental theology, ascetical theology,, and moral theology ¯ respectively at St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. 'The two last mentioned are iikewise editors of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. 92 The Part:icular I::rieridship Gerald Kelly, S.J.- THE novice closed the bOok, le~lned back in his chair, arid looked thoughtfully at the ceiling. He had been reading about the friendship of two saints. It was a warm and ~ intimate friendship; yet spiritual Writers would °surely call it commendable and sanctifying. On the other hand, only. a few days before, he0had heard a talk on "the particular friendship"; and this was definil~ely branded as reprehen-sible for religious and an obstacle to their sanctificat_iori. What is the difference, he mused, between these two types of friendship? Why is one good, the other bad, for religious? How can one enjoy the benefits of~the first while guarding "against the evils of the second? That novice might be any novice. In, fact, the puzzled reader of the account of friendship between the saints might w'ell be a-religious professed for many years. "Experienced spiritual directors say that the qhestion of friendship is a problem for many, if not .most, religious. These dirdctors think that the solution to the problem lies in a proper Understanding of the particular f.riendship; and they are of the opinion that an informative psychological discussion of this-topic would be helpful to religious. The following-notes represent an attempt .to-treat, or at least to outline,_ .the main points involved in understanding the particular friendship and in distinguishing it from what might be called ordinary friendship. What Is the Particular Friendship? ~ .A particular friefidship, ,as the expression is used in this article, is an exclusive companionship bet~veen two persons u~hicb is based on emotional fascination. In explaining 93 GERALD ~(ELLY Reoiew for Religious this definition it may be well at least for the present to limit 6u/selves to some concrete situation: for instance, to a p.ar-ticular friendship between two religious of the same.com-munity; or, even more concretely, to such a friendship between two novices. Later in the article the remarks can ,easily be applied to other situations. The definition I have given is.fi technical one. It is so worded as to exclude certain companionships that are,some-times rather inaccurately ~tyled palticular friendships. The clique, for example, is an exclusive companionship; it is limited to a few and excludes others. And because it is exclusive it is harmful to. common life. But it is not a par-ticular friendship in thestrict sense of the expiession because it is not limited to two persons. Even exclusive" companionships between twb persons are not. necessarily particular i~riendships in the technical sense. For instance, one-,pair of novices may be drawn together simpl.y becaus.e, each dislikes a crowd. Another pair may associate merely because of some mutual hobby a liking for birds, or for flowers, or for some.game or work. .And s~ill another pair may unite for the sole. reason that misery loves company; each is, as the saying goes, "agin the government," and their companionship furnishes, an outlet for this cbntrariness. In companionships like these there seems to be no strong emotional binding force; the exclusiveness appears to be the result of some purely external circumstances. Of course, associations sucti as these can easily lead to emotiona! att_achment; but until they do so,. they are not to be considered particular friend-ships in the sense in which we are now using the expression. In the real particul.ar friendship the precise reason for thi~.excl.usiveness of the companionship is ~motional f~scina-tion. The parties conduct themselves much in the manner of yoiing lovers. The whole pr.ocess of the formation aia,d 94 Match, 1946 THE PARTICULAR FRIENDSHIP. growth of the friendship follows a rather definite psycho-logical pattern. Religious should be acquainted with the psychology underlying this companionship so that they ¯ can protect themselves against tendencies that might other, wise prove very harmful to them. The Adolescent It will help towards a better understanding of the poar-ticular friendship .if we now leave our novitiate s~tting fo~ a time and take a brief glance at the emotional life of the growing boy. (I chb'ose the boy merely to be more definite. Everything that I say here. applies, with the necess~ary. changes of gender, to the growing girl.) In the years just preceding adolescence the normal boy has very likely limited hisclose friendships to other boys and has.had as little-as possible to. do with girls. Girls had no attraction for him, except perhaps to arouse his curl-. osity. But as'the weight of adolescence settles upon him things'change. He finds girls mysteriously charming, very; attractive; he wants to please them, and he seeks to be a 'hero in their ~yes. Perhaps, even in the very early years of adolescence, he experiences what is popularly called "puppy love"; he might, in fact have this romantic experience rather frequently. Usually, though not always, these youthful romances are of short, duration. There may be great emotional exhilaration for a time; but it.~ is easily exploded, like a child's balloon, and normally has .no severe lasting effects. But as the boy moves on into the upper years of ad£- le~cence, it is quite normal for him tocenter his attraction on one girl; and this .experience, though it follows the same pattern as the earlier cases of "puppy love," is more pro-found: It is this more matured experience that I want to analyze here--to observe its usual manifestations, its origin; 95 GERALD KELLY " ~ Review for Religious and its purpose. If you were to' ask a young man how he happened to fall in love with a certain girl, he might, be unable" to tell you. And if he could tell' you What had suddenly caught his attention ;and captured his heart, his answer might be: ¯ it was the" color of her eyes, the wave of her hair, the way she danced, the special musical quality of her voice-- all apparently trivial things. Or it might, be a word of sympathy, a word spoken in his defense, an impression of great virtue--things of greater significance. It is~ditficult to analyze this first step of falling in love; it is to a great extent mysterious. But the reaction to that first stimulus is not so mysterious. " The boy's heart is captured---riveted, as it were, on that one girl. The thought of her tends to absorb his mind; spontaneously he desires to share with her his thoughts, his wi~hes, his dreams, even his prayers. She has'become the center of his emotional life to the exclusion of other girls; and he wants a similar place in her affections. Hence he burns with jealousy if another boy enters into the picture. ,. ~ Of course, the .boy who falls in love still retains his affedtion for his parents, for his b~others and sisters, and fo~ his boy friends. He may still have a friendly liking for many other girls. But over all these affections--dominating them, as it .weremis this one distinctive attraction. If the girl he loves is absent, he suffers torture, oHe feels .dissatis-fied; he finds it hard to study, to do his work, even to be pleasant to others. He seeks some satisfaction in ,the posses-sion of little souvenirs, is inclined to telephone, to write frequent and effusive letters, and so for, th. When with his beloved, he is overjoyed. He wants to express his affection in sweet owords, in kissing and cares-sing. Incident~ally here lies the great dange~ to chastity in ever the purest courtship. It may be that these manifesta- -96¸ THE PARTICULAR FRIENd)SHIP tions of affection are joined with the deepest revere',nce; yet they tend to'heighten emotion, and thus to increase in fre-quency, ardor, and physical intimacy. It is easily seen that if the girl reciprocates the boy's affection, the natural result of the ~u.tual exclusiveness and intensity of,their companionship is a. complete assimilation of interests.They tend to have the same likes and dislikes. They want to share everything--from the prosaic act of munchi.ng the-same sandwich to the exchange of the most delicate secrets. In a word, their affection locks their hearts together; each is con_vinced that this state of affairs will las.t forever, and each craves a complete oneness with the other. They want to blend and share their entire lives. The experience of fallingin~ love is not something occa-sional or extraordinary. It has been happening'through0ut the world since" time was y~oung; it is happening now; and it will go on happening, so it seems, till the end of time. Because it is so common, and because it follows such oa definite pattern, it seems logical to conclude th,at the tend-ency to fall inlove'is instinctive. I do not mean that every-one h-as the experience; many factors can intervene toblock off the ~actual experience. But I do mean that, - speaking generally, .we all-have this tendency, an instinctive tend-ency; and if that is true, it must come from God, and He must have a reason for giving it. As a matte'r of fact it is not difficult to find a very good. reason why God should have placed this tendency, in human ,nature. God's plan for the family containsthe explana2 tion. In the divine~ plan for human beings, children are brbugl~t into the world ~is very helpless little things. They develop, slowly; they need the care of father and mother for. a long time. God ev_idently wants the faiher and m~)ther ¯ ,.to live together in the closest intimacy all the days of their lives. This long-.continued life togethe~ invoFces many- 97 GERALD KELLY "~" Revie~v [or Religious [~burdens: iind grav, e :~esponsibilities ~w~irds~ each other and ¯ towards the children: If this kindof,life did not haverits attractive features as Wall as.its b, urdens and responsibili-ties; only the hero~s Would have the courage to embrace.it. " As we know, God does not lay burdens:and responsb biliti~s on humhn nature without also providing compensa-tions. He. creates' e~ery human.being a potential.parent, .and He also gives each certain capacities and instinctive tenden- "c!es that make married life and parenthood not only.bear-able but ~am?a~tive. One of ,these instinctiv~ tendencies is the.!nclinati0n toan exclusive, tender.companionship. This serves as a powerful inducement to marriage; and after mar-riage, iif this mutual tender ¯love is fostered,' it not only pro- ~vides for the dare of the children but also i!ghtens the bur-dens of thelparents, and protects them, at least to some i~Xtent, from dangers that might come from outside the family circle. Applig, ation to N6oices The foregoing analysis 6f falling in love suffices for0i~r present purpose. We have answered the questions .that ~eemed fundahaental. It is t!m,~ noN to retu~rn to our novitiate setting and to apply the conclusions ,of our psychological analysis to the case of a particular friendship among novices. . - The applkation, ~it seems to me, should be fairly obvi-ous. A young man enters the novitiate at just about the tim:~when this tendency towards exclusive em6tional com-panionship is most apt to manifest itself. That it should m~inifest itself is perfectlynatural. On the other hand; the~ atmosphere of the novitiate is not natural; the novice's com-p) ini0nshlp is limited'to members of his own sex. But this fact is not in itself enough 'to suppress the instinctive y,earn-. ingfor exclusive companionship: Strong appetites have a March, 19 4 6 THE PARTICULAR FRIENDSHIP way of asserting themselves; and if they cannot find their normal object; they look for h substitute. The no~ice's tendency .to form a particular friendship seems tO be an unconscious seeking-for such a substitute. That is why ~he .particular friendship exhibits, as was remarked previously, many of the signs of a love affair: exclusiveness, absorbing ¯thoughts, secret meetings; and sentimental demonstrations of affection. Harmful Effects From what has been said it is easily seen how fosteri;ag a particular friendship:has disastrous effects on the religious "life. Its exclusiveness renders well-nigh impossible the practice of that universal and impartial charity which is so impor(an.t for harmony within a religious family and for carrying on apostolic works. The absorption of mired the love-object not only interfereswith study and work, but most of all it prevents the union with God that the life of prayer and other spiritual exercises ought to develop. The third source of danger is the ~.tearning to manifest one's affection, by bmbraces. Ifthese cravings are satisfied a great ~protective barrier to chastity is broken down, and serious sins can result. Moreover, once this barrier is broken by familiarities, it is very difficult to rebuild it. I might mention here that this danger is probably greater in a friend-ship between two women than in a similar friendship between men. Men are protected so some extent by the consciousness that kissing and embraci.ng are not custom, ary among the members of their sex, whereas among women it is more natural to express even ordinary affection in such ways. Embracing, of course, is not the only source of dangeb to chastity. Other little familiarities can also break down reserve and open th~ way to temptatio.n. And even when 99 GE ~RALD KELLY ¯ ~ Review for Religious external modesty is preserved, the emotional friendship can be a source of great disturbance to the imagination. Day,- dreams will not always remain on the spiritual plane. . We can end this enumeration of~ spiritually harmful effects by stating summarily that fosterifig a particular friendship strikes at the .very ro~t-significance of religious consecration. The vows themselves are but means 'of ¯ leading the soul to God; and t~he vow of chastity in particu~ lar is intende~l as a means of giving the heart to God. The particular friendship draws the heart away. Even if it does not lead to actual violations of chastity, it still deprives that vow of the fruit it should naturallfproduce. Not Limited to Novices' The particular friendship~ in the full sense in which we have described it, is hardly of frequent occurrence among religiousl But the tendency to form this association is cer-tainl'y common enough to warrant a thorough discussion of the sub.ject. And this tendency is not limited to novices. In fact, the possible combinations in Which the-part.icular friendship, might appear are quite varied. For instance, two religious of about the same age, both of whom have been professed f3r several years, might form such an attach- -ment while teaching or carrying on some other apostolic -work. The dangers in this case are generally much more grave than they would .,be in the novitiate because of the greater opportunity of indulging_the affection. ~ "Then there is the possibility ofa particular friendship between a young religious (perhaps a novice or a recently professed, religious) and an older religipus. One can hardly overestimate the.possible harmful effects of this relation-ship;, especially for the young religious. Indeed; a very .pr°mising vocationocan be lost in this way. The young religious is unwarily drawn into the affaiL loses interest in 100 March, :1946 . THE [SARTICULAR: FRIENDSHIP ~spiritual exercises, ~ suffers perhaps many grievous tempta-tions against chastityiand at last, with former .high. ideal~ of religious perfection completely shattered, returns to~tl~e world. A~ older religious who would take the i'i~itiative in a companionship of this kind or willingly encourage it would be running a risk of giving grave scandal. Fortu-nately, ignorance excuses from. guilt; 'but such ignorand~ should not be perpetually fostered. 'Again, the particu!ar friendship is not li~hited to the religious family;, an extern may begone of .thd ~parties. For example, it is not entirely uncommon for a pupil to develop what is sometimes referred to as a "crush" on the teacher. If the teacher al~o loses~emotional control, there results the particular friendship of the teacher-pupil~ variety. This topic is usually treated ratlqer thoroughly by ~he psycholo-gists ¯ of adolescence. Many" ad61escents develop these "crushes"; on.their elders. These young people~, we. must remember, arestill in the ~ransitional period; their emo.-~ 'tional life is just developing~ It will go on develop'ing nothing happens to fix it at a childish level. Bu~ ~, long-continued .reciprocal "crush" can fix it at that level: Thus one of the great evils" of ~be teacher-pupil particular fri~nd-ship is the retardatioh of emoti6nal development in" the This is a di~icult ~ituation to handle, as anyone wilt~ admit. In the first place, it may require self-crticifixion for ~the teacher; for religious t~achers are apt to get very lonely. They may ~find themselves spontaneously yearning for affection and attention, especially in times of discourage-ment. The affection of the pupil would satisfy this yearn-ing. But if itis satisfied by reciprocating the pupil's atten-" tions (and much.more so by ta ~king the initiative in seeking attentions) a very harmful-situation arises. The pupil's own emotional growth is stunted, .as we mentioned above; lOl GERALD KELLY Reoie~ for Religious and scandal is given toothers because of the partiality. which is usually shown and because of the 0ut-and-out childishness that a teacher sbmetimes manifests in Such cir-"~ cums~t.ances. Youth have a right to expect better emo-tional control-of us. Yet, even if the teacher's own emotions are perfectly under control, the handling of the adolescent "crush" is a delicate matter. As it is unfair to the pupil for the teacher to initiate these emotional attachments or to respond emo-tionaliy to them,° so it seems equally damaging to deal harshly with such a pupil. The teacher, has to be both objective and kind. L- uella Cole, in her books, Ps.qcholog~/ of Adolescence and The Background for College Teach[ng, suggests three p.~inciples for the teacher to follow on these occasions. The first principle :is one we hive already indi-cated: namely, the teacher should never show emotional interest in the pupil. The second principle is to avoid being alone with the student, especiallY behind closed doors, because it is then that the emotions are most li~kely to riln liot. The third principle-is to pro,vide ,the devoted student (whether boy or girl) with plenty of work. The author suggests such physical ~ctivities as cleaning erasers and washing blackboard.s, and, with special reference to the col-lege student, some mental occupation such as special work. .in the library. It is her opinion that several weeks of these physical .or'mental tasks will be sufficient to cool theardor of the student.1 Her suggestions ~eem very. helpful. The one precaution that might be added here is that in assigning Work the teacher should guard against giving, the appear~ ance of favoritism. Perhaps what I have written about the teacher-pupil attachment was a digression; yet I believe it is not wholly 1Luella Cole: The Backgruond for College Tea__ching,. Farrar ~ Rinehart, 1.940, pp. 164-5 ; Ps~Icholog!l o? Adolescence,'same pub!is.hers, I 942, pp. 147-9. 1-02 THE PARTICULXR =- F~IENISSHIP without pertinence. And the remarks made with reference .to this relationship ~re also¯ applicable to other situhtions in which religious deal with youth. Similar attachmeiats can be formed; similar .dangers .are present; .and similar precau-tions and treatment are necessary. ¯ ¯ We can conclude ~he enumerationof the various'situal tiol~s that might: occasion .a particular .friendship .by ieferring biiefly-to °thd most obvious case, though fortu-nately not the most- common namely the possibilit~ Of ¯ falling in 10ve with a person of the opposite sex, In theii early years of training religious are u~ually prote~te.d from this danger, at least to a great extent,;by the)fact tha~t they do not ass0.cia, te much with externs. Andeven in lat_.er.years, when ~hey. are engaged in works of,the apostolate, they are somewhat piotected ~by the ordinary regimentation and super.vision of their l~ves. They .would be ~sMeguarded grill :.m0~e if .th~.'pr0.~iSi0ns. f0~r ~iois.te~,. comp~fii0hs) eXteiaal reserve, and.so forth, Were alwa~s~rigorouslg 0bserved.But nothing save a.sl~ecial grace of God can protect¯¯ them to¯the point of utter immunity. As human beings, they are alivays susceptible to ~uch attachments. A very realistic .professor of pastoral theology used to tell his seminarians: "In youe priestly lives.you will often h~ve to deal wi~h women. In some cases you will neces.sa.rily. be ai0ne with them. If, on ~he of these occasions, a woman "should ¯burst into tears, do not yield to th~ impulse to dry ~hem for her." This is a rather concre.ge way of saying that bn"e must not let ~impathy'interfere with judgment. EVen spiritual ministries and apostolic words can be very dagger: ous, especially when sympathy plays On the heartstrings. A prudent reserve is always chlled for if one wants to keep his heart where he placed it at th~ time of hisconsecration to God in the Heart of Christ. GERA~LD. KELLY. ., R~eview [.or Religious ¯ Ordinary Friendship. Artier hearing a discourse on the particular f~iendship,'. oa~young religious is apl~ to be~confused. "What does it.all mean?" is his .question, even thofigh unspoken. "Am~I supposed to have .no intimate friends? Must I keep my heart in solitary connnement. The answer ~to such questions, whether spoken or unspoken;" should be very straightforward, T, rue friend-ship is one of the great blessings.of life, and it ~belong~ to religious just as much as to others. Father Tanquerey, after treating ofthe benefits of true friendship, has.the fol- - lowing.pertirient paragraph: The question has been asked whether or hot such friendships should be encouraged in cdmmunitieg.-~It may be feared tlSat .they will be detrimental to the affection which should unite all the mem-bers~ and that~ they .will be the cause of j,e,alousies. " As,suredly, car~ must be taken that such friendships do not interfere with th~ charity due to_ all, that thhy~be supernatural and be kept within the limits set by Sfiperiors. With these provisions, friendship, retains in com- . munities all the advrintages dessribed 'above, since religious as-well as others need the counsel, comfort and protection that a friend alone can give. However, in communities more than elsewhere, all that savors of.false friendship must be avoided with jealous care. (The S~iritual Life, n. 599.) Certainly the lives of religious who 'became canonized saints furnish ample proof that genuine friendship is not at variance with the ideals of the religious life. These saints had intimate friends within their communities and outside their communities, friends among those of t.h, eir own sex ,~nd friends of the 6pposite sex. Moreover, the mere reading of some of their letters indicates that their friendships were warm and affectionate. And we-need not confine ourselves ¯ to the lives of canonized saints as if true friendship were a'i~rerogative "of heroic sanctity. Very likely most religious who are now in-the declining years of life could tell us that- - 104 , March, 19~46 " .~ ~ . :- THE PARTICULAR' FRIEIqDSHIP,-. the~fiieridShips they-have ~formed ha~e been "a sohrqe .gre~it joy~ m their h~es~and of much help, in the Ser)ic&of ' ;~-7-'~God. ~" "~ " ~ ' " )=": ~--~ he.essential difference apparently lies in qualit:y:~on~ kind ~f friendship is good for ~eEgious; ~an0?her "a~ harmful. With'regard tS h~man compafiionship,, th~d~i~i ~.on~ ssnse in which religious must go,to-God alone; iense in which c;mpanionihi0, intimatd compahionsNp,~is ?n ootnly permissibl,e u bt e h u ipf 1. ~ -- ~" - How to Distin uish? . ' how can .one -"jadge:~gether a f)ien ship is jast o~dinary friendship o~ But, "the young rehg~ous will ask; " - . p2r~i~Ul~r friendship? The simples~ way of makmg,tBi~ diStinCtion is to examine a companionship to see,,if it mam~ fest~ the specific ~igns of the particula~ friendshlp. 2 ~ One Sp~c~c characteristic of ~he particular fri~ndshi~ -~ts exclus¢oen~s. Ordmary~fnendsh~p ~snot. eXclus~v~.~ mdy be that,:, because of circumstances or,-because of" one"~s own temperament, he has only one good.friend; bu~.thi~ .,is- not of the, nature of ordinary friendship~ One person can,h ve_many ~ood friends. ~ _ ;:~ :'~:' -, T~d~ exclusive tenddncy of the particular friendshipS" easily~,breeds jeatohs~. The ~fact thh~ One's friend has other' friend~, is resenred.'~ Ordinary. friendship does n6i have this effect:- Irma!lows freedom not only for oneself but for one's fri~ffd in thi choice of other friends. - ~- . .,~ TBe particula) friendship' is marked by-internal absorp:~ .tio~ o~ .,.mind on the ~riend. ., The ~houghts. ~ and affections'~ t"~ . :are;.as ~t were, bounff to one person: . i n t e r,"n ~a,"l ffee~om to :,~:;p~g~,~O~studg, to work, to be with. other do~panions; to rook separano~, ~s hampered, :Or&nary friendship,; on ~e ~h~ hand~ does not greatly interfere witKthis I~sa~at _ does not greatly interfere, because ~t' seems ~to ~'~ ~':- . ~,,- - ~.~ ., " ~, " ,~. "_ ~ 105 . Do ELLY . -- ~ ::that one cain& Without-.qualifi~atio~ apply tO ordinary f~iend~hip the dictum,"'out o~ Sight, ouvof mind.'," E~en :th):tTue~t and mosg s~iritual of fridndships is not~as co~d as that. Perhaps it gogld be more accurate to say that in . paiticgNr friendship ~.internal ¯adjustment ~to separ~tion:~is exVa°rdmanly, d~Ncult,~ whereas, m the case of. the s~mple ~ ~ .u .~r~e'asu:~ it is campara~:~e~y~ ¯ ¯ ~ yaas". . " '. ~, "~ ~ ~ ~ Finally, the tendencg.td manifest affection bg soft wo~dg :;~nd embraces arises spontaneously ~hen a.particular friend- " shi~-is fdstered. This4s ffot a distinctive characteristic o~ ~o~dina~) friendships. It is~ tgue, ~} course, that so~e people are'much more externallg affectionate :' than others; true al~o that a certain amoun~ of external demonstration is :.'.~more natural with women tBan ,~ith.mefi. Ndvertheless; these things are not characteristic ~rks o£ the:, ~i~le friendship: ~n, un~ual-tendency to sgch manife~t~tlons ig ~isign. ~hat sgmething other than ordinary friendship ~S ' mvolvea.~ ~" To sum the matter up negatively: or~ina~friendshi~- doe~ not ifiterfere~ with the common 1)re, with. imparfi~al ;:charity, with prayer,, with the-p~rfprmance of One's du~y,~ .with the prfident reserve tha(must characterize the bearing ~4:-~f religious, Agxin; briefl~ ~ut still negatively: ~n)friend-'~ ~.shi~ ~hich does not interfere with the attainment of r~li- :gibus ideals is a iound friendship. Finally,, m put it' posi- ~tigely: any friendship which helps 9ne to lead ~ gdod ~reli- ¯~ious life i~ not only s~fe and permissible, but actually gi, ft~ Of Gbd. , ~-,[EDf~O~s' NOT~: Our nSxt Kumbtr will contain some, suggestions for b~eaking a p~r~icular friendship ~nd for preventing the formation of on~.] -~- ¯ ~: . rl lan. n ouc a hies. ~ohn =. C6o~dn~ S.~.~ ~ Negroes attack segregation? Why, as they cbnve~t: .~ the color~d, don:t they b~ild for them churches and schools bf .their own? Then when they are all converted,~ interracial 9nderstanding will come of itself." ~ This sincere question from a zealous priest.surely ~omes at the '~eleventh-ho~ r." When law~ both federal- ' and . state are ~anning racial discrimination in public employment and privgte . :industry; when state ~ivil rights bills are making it criminal (evegqn the priest's own state) to make racial discrimiqa tions in hotels, restaurants, and places of public r~sort; when labor ~unions are d~manding that ~no. man's color should deprive him of an ~qual chance, t~ earn his ~ail~ - '~read~this is a late hour indeed for a champion to rise in_ ~ fhv6r of Catholic racial segregation. But the ~uestion has been honestly' asked ~by one wh~ is otherwise the soul 0f .~kindliness; and the voiced query of suCh a one is certainly-~ ~e unvoiced query of many. As the-priest live~ north of~ _ the Ohio River, traditionally the '.'River~30rdan'~ t0 t~e freedom-seeking Negro, we sfiall, frame our reply accord-" ingly. We oppose segregatioa in our Cath01icyhurches and schools because it is unj~st, impious,-~gd scandalbus a bar to the conversion of non-Catholic Negroes, and a cadge-of perversion of the Catholics. _. Such segregation is unjust because, for one thing, it rob~ -~tfie Negro of, self-re~pect. If yogr test of acceptability were - condhct or character or virtae, each might hope one fl~Y t~ q~alify. " But" iLyou~tell h~ that your ban is:o6 all those~ oLhis hne," ~ then the offense is in his blo~d. He Knows.~it .IOI-IN'E. 'COOGAN ' ' " l(evie~,tor Rdi~iOu. ~L .n6t merely that his appearance does not pIeaSe. Negroes , -'~o~ne in all shape'-and Sizes, in all mixtures of blood, imhll ~,shades of .complexion, in all .types of features. Some Negroes are strikingly handsome, far more so surely than. many whites; and yet almost any white c~in at least be. tol- o. erated, whereas no Negro need apply. He knows that ygu draw no such rigid line against members of another religion. Non-Catholic whites are admitted.to ~Catholic institutions. fr~in" whicl~ Catholic Negroes%are excluded. The right" ~eiigion seems less.important than the righ.t race. It is use.- "x ,.less to tell the Negro that acr'ods town somewhere there is a Catholic church for his kind; that mil'~s away ~there,is'a "o schoi~l to which he can send his childrefi. Miles. away, ac'rosg-'railroad tracks and through traffic; miles away, out ~from" St. Luke's parish they may go, past St. Thomas', ,past St. Mark's, past St. Ignati.us~ and St. Ma.ry's,. to find .refuge at last in St. Peter Clhver's or_ St. Benedic~ the.~ ;Moor'.s. " Such mass rejections by a dominant m~jorlty inevit~aMy weaken and destroy self-respec't in a weak minority. How destructive this can be wheff the Church herself se'ems' to" jgin.'in the accusing chor~s. Pope Leo XIII rightly :declared that poverty can so dehumanize that morality ~becomes. inhumanly difficult. Racial bars can be at least as demoralizing; for even a beggar can dream of 0utlivin~." want; but race is an act of. God and is bled in th~ bone. We add that these-~racial bars are not merely unj6st in -that they destroy self-respecl; they are impious in that they., are effective denials of the most solemnl~ proclainied reli- ¯ gio~s truths. If God is the. Father of all, .why must His .children besegregated before His face? ~If all share Adam's nature, Whence comes this special taint of blood? If theS~sn ~f Man is each man's Brother-, whence comes th~ color bar? "A'nd if H~ died eqUally for all, why these pretensions of:the Caucasoid?~ Did Christ's vt am the vine, and you branches" extend only to the lily-_whites? And, in the Mystic_al Body is pigmentation more important t'hafi sanc2 tifying grace?- Christ and His Church have told us_wha~,o~, things count in God's sight; .and race is not among.~he.m.~ The separation of the sons of men into sheep and goats on ~.any other basis than Christ's is a consequence of the ~s~ime di~cisiveospirit that has rent His seamless robe fnto the mulr °tiple tatters of Protestantism. Mother Church has give, n -'both impieties a lille repudiation. Racial segr3gatiori we have called'not merely unjust arid~ ~ impious; i~ is scandalous.in the strictest sense'of the word; it is a moral stumbling ,block and .lock of offense. ~ Few better-class Negroes will listen to'the call,of what ~ee~ms'to them a-white man'.s church. "To. the rrfajority of ~du-" cared Negroes," the President of Howard, their national " urfi'vers~ty, has truly said, "the Catholic ChUrch simp!y does not exist."" The march of grow,ing Negro leade~ship~ i~'seldom towards Rome. In some centers of special Cath- ,~ olic effort the"un, derprivi!eged eagerly~ answer :the call df truth, but the great masses remain untouched. Yet this bar to~conversion is but one 6f the scandals arisihg from. "5~reljgious segregation; of both born. Catholics and converts many find it unbearable to think themselves step-children Mother Church. It is the wildest flight from reality for us to~ imagine-that we can convert and hold the' N~gro through a system df segregated churches arid schools. It-will cost us the ~,loyalty of the race if we t, ry it. The Negro will not tol~ ~erate'a pariah Oosition of untouchability. And even if ~this were not so, where, when, how could we man and-finance an,adequate separate system ofchurches aiid schools? Eyen~, tgX-~,_,upported separate school systems have broken down. Conversion of the race will require all the efforts of the-~ - - "~- 109 .~. ,°~,,~ Boston,- Grand Rapids, oor Indianapolis. The $i~ste~s of : JOHN.~. ~00G~_ N* .~." "" ' - . Review for Religious ~.Whole Church laboring, an~d g[vihg with ,a Willing heart and hand. .Tying our hands behind us through a-policy of segregation means le.aving closed the door of opportunity;_ much, many will be lost; and with what gain? The hao~rement.awi~y from segregation in educatibn and . ~religion is so strbng that the reactionary is hopelessly dated. There is "hardly a~ollege or university in thi~ North, from Maine to California, that professedly, defends the ~olor~bar. .," The haost renowned girl~' scho~ols;: registers of social accept-ability, have their" colored students, sometimes even teadhers> 2Each spring, Negro magazines, pieturg, their scores of degree "~inners, including many Ph.D.'si and these from theooldeg't and~most respected American universities, Catholic schools~ ,~despite a belated start are ralbidly accelerating; .one in a-,bor- . der cityhas raised its colbt?ed enrollment from'-none to more than one hundred in a single year, and announces th~ move_ a complete success. Even our schools for problem childre.n ~:h~Lve fdund it desirable to repudiate any color bar: two at least of the, local Good Shepherd homes, have Ye.c~ntly - opened their doors to all. Boys To~n flung wide its doors from the beginning: As Father Flan~agan explains: ' . ~I know when the idea of a boys~ home grew i~ my miniJ.I never thought of anything remarkable ~bout taking in all of the r, aces affd all the creeds. To me, they are all God's children. -They are.my brothers. They are children 6f God. I must p~otect them to the best of my ability. These Negro boys h~iv-e been just as fine and . decent as the boys of my own race . If I were apastor of a parish. '- whether it was located in the slums of the city or in millionaire row. ~I would follow the same policy. ~- Recently~ a bi-racial "convent for Dominican cont~m~ plat!vies .~as 6pened in Alabama. The Dis.caked c~rmelites have announced:the same Christ-like policy; already the- .,colored spouse Of Christ can find a haven id the Carmel Of i March,?194~ ,~ " " ~ CHRISTIAN ~.U.~ Social ~6ik,, too; ha~ opened their , ~anks: to daughters :" Ybla~k bu~'- beautiful." And a~ ciea'~-eyed Domihi~fin ~Mother General has scorned the mcons~stencF of praying Blessed Martinde~Porres fo~ vocatiofis wh le ~efus~ng raceSisters. , . ~, .~. "~ ", Advocates. of.racial segregation within the Churkh~ ~e recently~ dealt a body-blow through publication, of the.story ':~,of the foundation of the Sisters; Servants of th( ImmacfiL .late Heart of M~ry, at Monroe, Michigan, a handred years a"g doT. W ° f o t h -e t h" r e e~Sh o' u n dfNmegg mo ers w~re-o ro ¯ .-blbo ; bne of these was the first m6ther general,-#ho b~ids~ fair. to become a"canonized saint[ From th~ three m0~her ~ houses' in Monroe, Philadelphia, and Scranton have gon~- forth ~h0usands of cons&rated women giving~,thei.r' all~q ~ervice in the two Americas. Their blue-clad rffnks today number ~h~r~y-seven hundred, truly a princel~ pro0f,0f~th~ ~-fertil~.y of race brotherhood. Among ~the .cle;gy, to~ fibta~e blows are ~eing ~truck at segregation. Father ~ohn La Farge, S[J., is authority for the statement~ that 'the ,[~ardinal-El~t of -New York has ordered tha~_~here color line:draw.n in any institution of ,his archdiocese: Much th~ same statement is made of Los Angeles. " The~e are 9nl f6ur-known ~colored ~iocesan priests at present; bfi~ 'yearother seminaries ~o inter-racial. The~notable-~ucce~ Of N~gro.pries~s already Orddined makes their rapid inevitable. ~T0 the merits and success of tile largest ~in~le ~:~ group 6f these priests~seven ~f "" ~ the.,Soc~ety of ~th e D~i v=ine. Word working within the Lgfayette Diocese--its-bisho# gives~this ~revealing t~stimbny: The enthusiasm.with which they were received, and t~e spiend[~ ~rk~ they~are doing.in the t~ree parishes now entirely "under theirS'~ :dtre~t~on,,slay for.all time t~e groundless and mischievous~yth tha~ he'colored do not care to have pr~esis of their own ra~e fo mihister ~hem~ .JOHN E~ COOGAN. ,~ "Revtewfor~Re! g~ou~, . " '.~he New "England Province of the Society of J~sus.has ~ele~en Colored members from Jamaica. -~e Benedictines ~ . - Colle~ewlle, ~-M~nnesota, have e~ght Negro 'youths- ~n. their ~, seminary, studying for the priesthood. Their c~reers ~lthln- ~t~e~order will be determined.by their abilitigs and interests; -_Lff+t~by any'accident-of race. At least eight~other r~ligious orders and congregatiois .claim ,a share Of the present-one.i. hundre~nd se~en Nflgro seminarians. All thii ~s littf~ in. Lompaiisdh,with _the ~ative clergy .of so-called"'darke~t Affica,".With its three bishops, four hundred and-~fty, priests,-t~ree' hundred and sevefity:fivI Broihers, and~t&O~. .~thbusand nuns;. But America is awakening from" th£:,~ .n~gh~mar~of s~gregat~on and willnot sleep again. ~-~ ~ Th~ battle'against segreg~tio~ must promptly be-won in'~our~schools. From segregated schools; race leadership . continues to come "too little and too late." As a" ~esult,. - through whole vineyards ."branches'"are dying on the Vine.~ ~Meanwhile our many largely lily-white Catholic schooig . are'beiffg-~alled~and-democratic, in sharp contrast to the public schodls which admit all races and colors. And in, "O--~E dul.own~ ranks we suffer from the p61icy~of exclusiveness. :. ? Mutual appreciation co£es only from mutual.knowledge;-.,,) ' ~:and our thildren are being denieff the education to be ha&~ from a~ pers6nal knowledg~ of fellffw Catholics drawn ~ from other'branches of the human race. ~ " " ~ We Catholics must then ~choose betweem segregation~ and thk c0nve~si~n of our thirteenmillion Negroes. We~. a~ "perhaps have 0neor the other; we most surely cannot~'h?v~ :bot~. It~will riot avail ~us to s~y that our racial policy -" mbre liberal tha£ tha'f of any o~her, creed. Since when. ha~ theY"pillar and-groundo~ the truth" ~hought it suCcinCt ~:, merely to ~e a bit more just or more kind than sbme, tag-tag_ ~heresg? S~gregati°h~tmust gR; ~o~_~'There ii neither "nor . Greek-- :'"there- is .~ither gond not~ free: there :is, neither March, 19 ~ 6 COMMUNI~ATIONS ~ale nor. female. For you are all, one. in Christ Jesusi" ~(Galatians 3:28.) " ~ "'The Negro poet'saccusihg query addressed tO Anierica" is addressed as well to our every churc~h and school: How would you have us-Z-as we are, Or sinking "neath the load we bear? Our eyes fixed forward on a star? OF gazing empty in despair? Rising.o.r falling? Men.or things? With dragging.pace, or footsteps fleet? Strong, willing sinews in your wings? Or tightening chains about your feet? . ommunicaffons Reverend Fathers': .~ " . That a Christian.attitude can be cultivated foward the N~gro even in the deep South is a fact proved" by successful attempts which.- have been matle by students of Mr. Carmel Academy, Lakeview, ,New Orleans, in this pha~e of Catholic living. The student actlvi:, ¯ ties in this field of endeavor are given here~ in sketchy form: ,-,, First and foremost, the study of the Mass and the Liturgical Year were helpful means to strengthen the spiritual llfe of the students, which naturally found expression in a more Christian attitude towards all members of the Mystical Body of Christ. In the January, "1936, issue of their school pa.per, Echoes of Car-mel, a first hesitant step was taken by reprinting from the the Inter-racial Review an article, entitled,. "Can Prejudice Be Cured?" by the Reverend J~hn LaFarge,-S.J. This article showed the effects of prejudice and the power of personal example. "Prejudice can be cured if we use our natural reason and the gifts of God wherewith to. cure it:" No reaction sprang from the appearance of this article, which might have l~ad the effect of an atomic bomb inthe racial eldment of the South. ¯Then followed a~.series of articles by th~ student COMMUNICATIONS Review for, Reli#iou's Men-Are Eqtial;" .which-was a de~reloPment of the Manhattanville Resolutions concerning racial prejudice. .Devotion to Blesse.d Martin de Porres, the Negro ~D0minican Br0th'er, was pi~om0ted 'thro.ugh the ~0dality, while the school paper introduced an Interracial C01t~mn in' the December, 1937, issue. This column endeavored '~to instruct the students.in their duties towards the Negro as a member of.the.MysticalBody." On several occasions during, the annual vocation week s~onsored by the school, the Reverend Cl.arence Howard, S.V.D., leading" mem-ber of the Negro Apostolate, addressed the students on the vital sub-ject to most Southerners--the racial-question. The ~reaction of th~ students to these talks was gratifyihg. A Sister of the Holy Family, a Community of Colored Sisters founded in New Orieans, was guest speaker for the monthly Catholic Students' Mission Crusade meeting. Th~ crusaders were edified and voiced their appreciation generously. A soptiomore of Xavier University, a lovely colored student, also addressed ~the Carmel .students during one of their observances' of mission week. She was given a thunde"rous applause, and, together with her companion, an6ther Xavier student, was sh0wfi every -~of c6firtes~ during their stay at Mt.Carme1.~ In the afternoon of that sam~ day, the ~wd Xavier students a~c0mp;inied.eighty Carmel stu-dents to Visit Xavier Univ, drsity;- the 0nly Cathtilic Ufiiversity foi Negroes in-the United States.The visit through Xavier ended in the~ cafeteria where a delightft~l musical programwas enjoyed. Refresh: men~s were ~erved while six Caimel students sat at each tabl~ with Xavier"stu~lent acting as hostess. Here Color was forgotten'whil~ beautiful social contacts were enjoyed between the colored and White students of Xavier and Mr. Carmel: /~nd this was in the deep South! It Was du~ng another' missioia week .ffhen Xavier students of tiae music-department ,were invited to give a."rausical program at Lake-view Caimel. " The sttidents Weredeeply appreciative of the, display of fine ~alent and served a luncfieoh to the visiting Xavier students. -H~re a~ain "c01oi was overlooked and°.dile recognition .was given to high taldnt. " After sch6ol was dismissed that same afternoon, a youhg lady Called, accompanied by her sister Who was a first year student at Mt. Carmel, and said ~he would-withdraw her sister from a school ~ which entertained Negroes. No excuse was offered by°othe school. authorities, nor was any step taken to retain the little first year stu- 114 March, 1946 COMMUNICATIONS dent. It was thought that a student with a spirit of that type Would be better elsewhere. ~.- Dark Symphbny, a life-sketch by Elizabeth. Laura'Adams, a highly talented Negro girl, was interesting reading during.Religion class-- so much so, that one of the students dramatized the book, then" directed the staging of "it by members of the class. The-play was presented for the entertainment of the student body. The spirit dis-played by the players and the audience was very satisfying. Books and magazines w~hich promote the welfare of the Negro are found in the fac,ulty and student libraries. The books arc: Dark .Symphony, Adams: The Dove Flies South, Hyland; ~oi-ored Catholics in the United States, Gillard; Royal~Road, Kuhl; George Washington Carver, Holt; The 'Negro American, Gillard; Marian Anderson, Vehanen; Interracial Justice, LaFarge; Up From iSlavery, Booker T. Washington; ,Negr~ Builders and Heroes, Braw-ley; Street or: the Halt: Moon~ Farnum. The magazines on display are: "Interracial Review, Colored Harvest, St. Au[~astine Mes, sei~ger, The Negro Child, The Catholic Worker, and Twinkle. i This last" is edited by Miss Ora Mac Lewis, a graduate of Xavier University; New Orleans. Sister Consuela, O.Carm. Rev~erend Fathers: While I fully approve the Catholic campaign (especially in the press) to secure for the Negr~ his civil, social and economic rights,. .I cannot help being convinced that the best way of making him a convert to the faith is by personal contact. Nearly all Negro converts have been made exclusively by colored missions and schools. Here is an experiment of seven years' standing. In 1939 I tried to get some chil'dren to attend a Sunday-School arSacred Heart Church in Denver, Colorado. ~ The Franciscan" Sisters offered their assistance. We had an attendance of from 12 to 1 It proved a failure. In 1940 we tried a vacation school in July inthe basement of a house close to the center of Negro population. Our attendarice,was 42, but, the basement was so crowded we had to give up_for lack ,of standing room. In July, 1941, we secured an empt~y .storeroom on East 26th Avenue. We had 103 children nearly all of whom were non- COMMUNICATIONS Catholics. ' For the next three years our efforts met-with equal suc-cess; but'in 1945 we could not find a location in.which to h01d our summer school until the. very last minute. We, finally' obtained a portion of a large empty garage on the outskirLs of the N~gro district. Due .to its location and the delay in obtaining it, we had only 43 children in regular attendance," of whom all but four or-'five were non-Catholic. _ In commenting the 1945 summer school ~e made an appeal to all colored or non-Catholic children by theans of a circular letter. Our summer school is supplemented by a regular adult instruction. Class lasting six m~nths, which meets twice a .week: In 194~ there were eighteen adult converts. Z~he results So far have been the' con-version since th~ year 1940 of five entire colored families, numbering ~rom eight to. ten children each, with their parents, and of more than sixty other cbnversions of adults and children.~ The enrollment in. our palish school now includes sixty colored children. Several .bap-tisms of colored babies have followed as a mattet~ o2 course. /~irchbishop Vehr and a fine Catholic attorney are patrons of the' school. They pay the bills, amounting tO approximately $400.00 a year, including cahdy, ice cream, a yearly, picnic to the mountain, ¯ parks or the Denver city parks, salaries to teachers, rental of clas~- rooms, and the transportation of equipment. A location for a Negro center in the heart of the Negro district has been obtained, and a few. days ago the archbishop informed me that he ig'ready to begi.n building as soon"as circumstances permit. The Franciscan Sisters were originally in charge of the summer school, but for the last several years the'Sisters of Charity have been in charge. [ have one final" observation. It i~ difficult for the priest or sister to approach the adult non-Catholic Negro .on matters of ~ligibn.~ However; we have found as a result of this work that it is easy. to approach these adults through the children. These you.ngster.s, of course," report to ~heir parents what they °have been taught in school and the attitude of their teachers, and as a consequence and in a'sh~rt time the parents themselves visit the schoolmake inquiries, and in many cases enroll ifi the adult education classes. This w'o~k has resulted ~n approximately 125 converts in the last six years and with but one or two exceptions all have proved to be fine Catholics. A. Versavel, S.d. 116 ,od Forgives and Forgets Clarence McAuliffe, S.J. THE meditation on mercy is always one of the .bright hours of the annual retreat. We may not have com-mitted a serious sin at all, but the unknown pitfalls of the° future lie ahead. We are keenly conscious of our-own weakness. We might some day commit a mortal sin. Hence we are glhd to devote some time to the consoling parables of the Prodigal Son or the Lost Sheep; or to the actuaLcases of St. Peter or Mary Magdalene or the Good Thi_ef, "God is ready, even happy, to forgive," That is the purpQr~t of. both parables and case records. Moved by grace we are impressed with the thought and we rise from our colloquy reassured, confident, inspired to greater love by the realiza-tion that God will extend His succoring hand 4f we ever become His enemy. But although this'poignant and lasting consciousness of God's readiness to forgive is the main purpose of the reflection on mercy, we should not overlook a secondary aspect of thi~ meditation. This has to do with the manner in which God forgives sin. When God forgives, He forgives completelt.I. "He casts all our sins to the bottom of the sea" (Micheas 7: 19); when the sinner repents, "his iniquities will no longer harm him" (Ezechiel 33:12); sins may be like scarlet, but repentanc.e "will make them white as snow" (Isaias 1 : 18). God forgives and forgets. "God's ways are not our ways," says the Prophet Isaias. These inspired words are applicable to the sum-total of our thoughts, viewpoints, attitudes, and actions, but they have a very special application here. Most of us are ready to forgive. Indeed, we are obliged to forgive even .thotlgh offended repeatedly. To-this extent we bear a !ikeness to I17 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Revfew for Relfgious God Who is always willing to forgive the repentar~t sinher. But is our manner of forgiving like God's? Is our forgive-ness burnished by the quality of comp.teteness? Do we not only forgive, but forgive so thoroughly that offenses once pardoned.exert no influence upon our future conduct? H~re, indeed, "God's ways are not our ways." We forgive, but we remember. Previous offenses skulk about in the recesses of our minds; and when a fresh offense is committed against us by the same party, the forgiven ones come back with their pristine vigor. We refuse to look upon the latest offense as an isolated fact. it is always a link in a chain; and the wholk chain captivates our imaginations and" stirs up. our resentment when the latest injury shocks our oversensitive. selves. We forgive ;~ but we don't t:orget. Take that unkind remark or act, that .gossiping behind our-backs; that garbled report to a superior. The perpe-trator by a Slight favor, a kindly'attltude, a show of humil- ~.ity wins. our forgiveness. But we feel that our attitude tow.ard him in the future should not be the same as before the offense. Our relations will incline n6t to the lubri-cating, but to the frosty side. It's best to maintain a cool reservd towards such a one. Otherwise he ma~, jolt us with another slight. That's the way we are strongly impelled to act. It's the way we frequently do act; and though this may involve, no culpability, it reveals that our forgiveness was not like God's. It was offered willingly, but it was not complete. We remembered. But perhaps we plead "Not Guilty" here. We do really forgive and forget in single instances. Then just alter the case a bit. Suppose the gossiper continues on with his backbiting. You forgive him once; twice, three tim~s, and oftener. Ask yourself how you reacted to the second and subs.equent offenses. Did you view thdm as separate, segre-gated indignities? Or did you recall offense number one 118 .Ma.¢c~, 1946 . . , . : GOD FORGIVES AND. ~'.ORGI~T$ .when~.-offense number two occurred? And when number. .two occurred, was the. extent of your,displeasure measured ~by number two alon.e or was it enhanced by the remem~ brance of number one.?. Did yo.u ever say to yourself~i:~ter, r.epeated offenses:, "That's the~ straw that broke the ~c~n~el~s :b~ck," 6r ':I. can't .stand.: it. any longer,'.'¯ or (in Hitler's words)'"My patienc~ is exhausted,", or '0'I forgave .him' 0iace an.d he did it again?". Suchexpressions indicate'that our fo.rgiveness is: not complete. Old-offenses ha.ve com~ back to merge~ With. the latest one. Offense :number sever~ is no~ j.ust numberseven.¯ R's number se.ven comblned.withsix of its predecessors. We forgave; but we did'not forget.:We " allowed pardoned offenses to influence our futur~ 'condu&': ¯ But with God it is otherwise. Let us suppose that",~ person, commits a mortal sin. .He has disobeyedG0dW15o ~b~s a right to our service and hence h_eh~is offered~God :~per2_ , sonal insult. This insult deserves two penalties: The first ~ ,is'.eternal. damnation. The.second is a~ temporal punish-ment incurred by xhe misuse of God's~property. Burthe sinner r~pents; 'He goest0 the sacrament~ofpenance, of h~ makes an. act. of perfect contrition intending to og0 'tO" tl6b sa¢rament later~, or perha'ps., he' is not a m~mber .of the Church and so is baptized.' 'His' sin is forgiven. "God remits'the personal insult . and ~ becomes the man's friend: He lifts the threat of hell from the man's path. He takes aCay some, even all, of the temporal punishment according to the perfection of the penitent's dispositions. But that.ii . not the whole story. So far we may appear to act in. a: similar way when we forgive an'offense. However,iet us suppose that the ab.~olved man gOei forth from the: confes: sional and commits another mortal sin, be it of the same or a~ different kind. By thisfresh iniqu~ity, he again is stibjedt to.God's personal displeasure.° ' He als0 deserves hell a~d temporal punishment again, But how about thefor,.me~. 1'19 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Review ~¢or "Religions sin already committed? Does it come forth from the tomb again? Does God say to Himself: "I-~forgave that man once. Now he hasbffended me again. I can't forget. His ne~ sin is really a double one. I am personally insulted twice, not once. He deser~,~s a twofold punishment in h~ll, one for the forgiven sin and one for this added one. His temporal punishment for this latest, sin should be double what it was for the former one"? God does no such reasoning. That's the way toe argue . with OUrselves when offenses are repeated. But God for-gives and forget~. Once a sin is remitted, a new sin is not a rung in a ladder. It's a rung all by itself. It's not a warship in a. flotilla. It's a warship all alone on the high sea. .Repentance impels God to "cast. our sins to the bottom of the ocean" never to be retrievedor resurrected again. ~ God's forgivenessjs complete. He really .forgives and forgets.He " refuses to be influeaced by tr.ansgressions which He has pre- ~iously remitted. This is not theological guesswork, It is so certain that many theologians.say it would .be imprudent to doubt it. It is so certain that no arguments brought up against it will everalter it. If we look over those texts in Scripture that have to do withGod's way of forgiving sins, we find t, hat they are all unconditional. God doesn't say:, "I forgive you provided you don't sin-again." He states: "Once you .repent, your former sins will never be allowed to harm you in .the future. I shall cast ~rour iniquities to the bottom of .the sea where nothing can. ever get at them and bring them, ¯ back." That this is God's loving w,ay of forgiving sins is also clear from the manner in which the sacrament of penance is Conducted. All morial sins must be revealed in this tri-bunal, except those that have already been properly' con-fessed, if these former sins came. back to life when a fresh 1-20 March, 1946 GOD FORGIVES AND FORGETS mortal sin is committed, tl~en they H0uld necessarily have to be confessed again. But such is not the case. The sinner is obliged tb accuse himself only of those mortal sins com- - mitted since his last worthy confession. The others, there-fore, have been completely wiped away. God has t~orgotten fhem. If the penitent wishes to mention them, he maydo so; but he is under no obligation whatever. ;Fhis complete forgiveness of our sins is one of God's wonderful mercies. If Hi were small-minded like ourselves, He, would brood over past offepses when new ones are com-mitted. But His 10re is too great. When we repent, we always start again-from scratch. We are never just on parole; for when a judge pe.rmits parole, he forgives but he places a condition. He says: "You are free to go back to your family, to engage in. your work on condition that don't violate the taw again. If you do, you will go back to jail to finish your sentence for your foirner crime and to get an additional term for .your new crime." God never puts the repentant sinner on. parole. But just because God forgets our sins by true repent-ance, it doesn't follow that we should forget them too. Per-haps not1-iing is more profitable in the spiritual life than an abiding sorrow entrenched in our :minds by the thought of past forgiven sins. Such sorrow induces humility, grati-tude, confidence, love, mortification, fraternal Charity, ~and a host of virtues. But if God forgives and forgets, then surely it would be improper for the sinner,ever to woi'r~ about past forgiven sins. That would be to forget the cev tain doctrine of theology propounded in this paper. Such sins have been. cast by God "to the bottom of the sea.i.' True, the sinful acts enter into the historical record of our lives. They were once committed and nothing-can" ever alter ~hat fact. But their recollection should furnish fuel for piety, not for ~inxiety. God forgives and forgets~. 121 ,Our Lady's Lack ot: Fear Charles F. Don.ovan, S.& ~S WE.READ St. Luke's restrained .description of the .~'~ visit made to Mary by the A~rchangel Gabriel, bearing ¯ . the most amazing message ever to reachthe world,, we are apt to pass over a notable feature, of the scene Mary's calmness, her complete lack of fear when Gabriel lighted her ~room by his sudden presence. The. Gospel, to be sure, says Marywas troubled; but this was not fear.of the angel. She was not troubled until he had spoken; it was his message, not his presence, that bothered her. When she had seen him, "she'was troubled [Monsignor Knox aptly says 'per-plexed'] at his word, and asked herself what manner of salutation this might be" (Luke 1:29) .She did not under-stand Gabriel's braving before her and telling her that she was full of grace, that the Lord was with her, that she ~as blessed among women. Her humility made her wonder at these expressions, but she was undismayed by the sudden appearance of an" angel. How unique Mary'~ reaction was and how unparalleled in sacred, history we can gather by recalling the fright, the real terror that seized even very holy peoplewhdn, "lil~e Mary, they .found themselves face to faee ,with an angel. When the Archangel Rai~hael disclosed who he was .to Tobias and his son, "they were troubled, and being seized With fear they fell ,upon the ground on their face" (Tobias 1.2:16). Mary,'s own messenger, Gabriel, appeared to Daniel; and the saintly prophet tells us, "I fell on my face trembling . and when he spoke to me I fell flat on-the ground; and he touched me and set me upright." (Daniel 8:17, 18.). When this same Gabriel stood at the right of OUR LADY'S LAc~ OF FEAR the altar where Zachary was burning incense to God, "-Zachary seeing him was troubled, and fear fell upon hin4'~' (Luke 1 : 12). On Christmas eve, while shepherds of Beth-lehem were keeping watch over their flock, "an arigel of.tlhe Lord stood by them and the glory of God shone round about them and they feared with a great fear" (Luke02:9) On ,Easter morning at the tomb of Our Lord the holy women "were stricken with fear and were turning their faces toward the ground" (Luke 24.:4, 5). We. could enforce this picture "of the normal ~human reaction to.heavenly apparitions by adding othe~ Gospel instances, like the apostles' terror when they dimly saw Christ on the water and when:they heard God's voice at the qZransfiguration; .and there are non-scriptural examplesof fear in similar circumstances, asin the cases of,St. Teresa ~f Avila and St. Bernadette. But even limiting ourselves the scriptural record of the spontaneous human fright at the sight of an angel, we can see that Our Lady's composure in the presence of Gabriel is a detail that is small and almost hidden in'the Gospel record but rich in its revelation of her character. - -Let us not make the mistake of dismissing this.point by saying, ".Why should Mary be afraid of an angel? After all, she.is Queen of Angels and God's Mother, isn't she. In viewing a past event we are always in danger of re~,ding into the minds o'f the people involved our o~n knowledge of subsequent history. When the angel saluted Mar~., she was not the Mother of God. She was not yet Queen of Angels; .or if .you wish to think she was, at least she v~a.s not conscious of it. As f;ir as ~he knew,'none of the glori- Ous titles which were to follow upon the decision she was about to make tould be attri.but~d to her. Her oi:ily title when Gabriel entered the' room was th~ one she told him handmaid of the Lord. i23 CH!~RLES F.'DONOVAN' " Review fo~ Religious, ~ That this young girl--:--for that is what. she. was--~, should beso imperturbable, so much mistress of herself and ~v~°of the situatiffn where-others--saints,~ grbwn men, chos~in friends of God-=-had been smitten to the, ground in fright i~ Certainly a luminous and distinctive fact,, a fact whichthe Holy Ghost has recorded for h~r honor and our instruction. What it revealsabout Mary is no(courage'or fearlessness; "such was her nature that there was. hardly .even a question of exercising the virtue of courfige here-. Rather it seems to-be a sign and a measure of Our Blessed Mother's-spirituality, her pure faith whereby she was habitually alive to supernatural reality and consciously immersed from day to day and,frorfi minute to minute in a sea of the divine presence and goodness and 16ve. It seems as simple .(and marvelous) as this, that Mary was not surprisedoat a visitor from heaven because r~ally and truly, and constantly i. her conversation was there. :The significance of this incident; Our Lady's matter-of~ fact receptionof the archangel and all that it impli~s~-- sanctity, at~home-ness with the worl~ of~ the spirit~ com-plete at-home-ness with God--these are things which we c_arinot~ grasp in a single reading Of St: Luke or by a few .medit~i~ions: Years of spiritual refinement may gNe us a -truer appreciation of the mystery; but I think tha~.the more deeply we probe it, the more baffling and awesome will become the truth that Mary was full of grace. We customarily address Mary as Mother.of God,as our and heaven's Queen, as Mother of Sorrows, as Medi-atrix of All Graces. In otherwords, we habitually think. of Our Blessed Lady as she is after her Eat. But we can also think profitably of her as she was before that da~zling instant. As soon as Gabriel spoke God's proposal, Mary ¯ knew that she was someone special, that She was by God's 124 March, 1946 OUR LADY'S LACK OF. FEAR :grace the most extraordinary of women. B~t up to that moment, thou_gh God loved her as He loved no other crea-ture, she apparently did not realize how much He loved her or"how°mu~h she deserved His love. Dare we hope that Mary's unawareness of impending glory we have, in some analogous way, a figure of all elect souls, who with varying constancy and ardor peer towards God through the mists of faith, little dreaming what blessings He has prepared for-them, until, in a moment, in the twinkling of a.n eye, there bursts Upon them the flood of beatific light and they are penetrated with the undiminishing su.rprise and joy of God seen, embraced, and embracing? Before the Annunciation Mary was already a soul set apart, but she was not conscious of it. She lived an obscure, e~ternally ordinary life, but a life of perfect union with God.~ DeCaussade says, "Mary's reply to the angel, when ¯ all that she said wasFiat mihi secundum Verbura tuum was a r~sum~ of all the mystical theology of our ancestors . Everything in it reduced, as still today; to the purest, the simplest abandonment of the soul to the ~¢ill of God in whatever form that Will might present itself." Before the Annunciafionmbefore that event which suddenly made her the center of history, the core of a new divin~ economy, the hope and channel of salvation--Mary was living from momer~t to moment so totally in the hand of God, so aban-doned to His Will, that each moment was a dress rehearsal for ~her mighty fiat. When Gabriel appeared She was calm and poised, because.this moment was no different from any~ other.-. The content of God's will did not matter, whether it indicated something big or little, marvelous or common~ ,place. Just so it uJas G6d's will--that is what counted.~ So we have a calm little girl looking quietly at .the angel and uttering with the ease of endless practice: "'Fiat mihi.'" 1'25 ¯QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Re~e~ for Rdig~ous ~ Dear little maid of Israel, truly blessed virgi.n even when not yet Virgin-Mother of God, grant.us somehow to under- Stand, in some way to imitate the unique, the hidden, the Unmeasured surrender to God their brought Him from His flaming home, through Spread clouds of planets, to one , sphere, one land, one heart--.to you, Mary, and tO us. Questions and ,Answers Can we Sisters gain the totles quotles indulgence on the feast of the Most Holy Rosary as it !s granted to the members of the Confrafe;nity'of the Most Holy Rosary by mak;~ng the v;sits in-our own communffy chapel, or must we make the visits in the parish Church? We were told by our pastor that in order to gain these indulgences we must visit the parish church which~has this special privilege. Provided you are members of the Rosary Confraternity, you ~an g.ain the indulgences mentioned in your own community chapel. This is clearl~r stated in the official collection of indulgences,to be. gained by membersof the Confraternity of the Most Holy'Rosary,'published in pamphlet form by the Dominican Fathers at The Rosary Aposto. late, 1909~South Ashland~Avenue, Chica~o8, Illinois. We quote in full: '"Religious Women, all in Colleges, Seminaries, Schools a~id Catholic Institutions who are members of th~ Rosary Confraternity, can gain all the Indulgences which require a visit to the chapel or Church of th~ C0nfr.aternity, if they visit their bwn Church or Chapel (p. 13, n. 3 I, Note H). If a rosary is taken apart for the purpose of restringlng it, are +he indulgences Io~t? Nff, they are not. The indulgences are attached to the beads, not ~to the chain which holds them together. This may be renewed again and again. Individual' beads which have been broken or lost may be replaced (S. Congregation of I~dulgences, Jan. 10, 1839), and this .may be done repeatedly without losing the indulgence on the beads. Nor need the beads be restrung in their original order. ¯ 126 March, 1946 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS ~0 ,, Is it necessary to recite" a Pateri Ave, and Gloria at each station when making fh_e Way of the Cross, and fo say the same six flmes af the end? Neither "is necessary. ~he S~icred Congregation of Indulgences stat~rd explicitly on 3une 2/ 1838: "The recitation of the Lord's Prayer~and of the Angelic Saluthtion for each static~n of the Way_ of the Cross, as well as the sixfold repetitibn of the same at the end of the stations, is only a laudable custom introduced by certain person.s. It is by no means a condition necessary for gai.ning the indulgence~ attached to the Way of the Cross, as the Sacred Congregation of Indulgences very plainly declared in the ad.monitions to be observed ih making the exeicise of the Way of the Cross, issued by order and with the approbation bo~h of Clement XII, April 3, 1731, and Benedict XIV, May 10, 1742:" The more recent decree imued b~- the Sacred Penitentiary on October 20, 1931, changed the indulgence.s "gr.~anted to this devotion, but did not change the requirements- for gaining them. ~ " II Certain indulgences require as a condlflon for gaining them fhaf a visit b6 made.to "a church or public oratory." Can all religious make this visit in their communlfy chapel, or is this privilege granted only"to-certain instltufes~ Yes, all reI~gious may satisfy the obligation by makin~ the ; isit in their community cbai~el, provided their they can satisfy their obli"- gation of hearing Sunda)? Mass in that chapel. This is stated explicitly in canon 929 of the Code, and applies not only.to religious of both ~exes but also to the laity who lead a community life in ~a boarding school, hospital, institution, and the like. Two condition~, hov,;ever, are lald down: (I) that the community has no church or. public chapel (otherwise the visit must be made there), and (2) that "for gaining the indulgence a visit is prescribed siropl~/.to a churchoor public oratory. If a specific church or public oratory is prescribed for the visit, then it cannot be made. in the ordinary community chapel but must be made in the church or public chapel specified. It m~y be well to note here that various privileges to ~he contrary have been. granted. To mention but two: Franciscan Tertiaries mawr gai.nthe P6rtiuncula Indulgence in their own convent chapels; membersof tti'e Confraternity of the Holy Rosary livifig in community °(both r~lii gious and lay persons such as boarders, patients, inmates of an i ngti- 127 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS ~ Review [or Rdi~ious tution) may gain all the indulgences requiring a visit to the Conga: ternlty church or chape~ by making the visits in their own chapel. Wha~ is the exac~ meaning of foundation Masses? .Are ~hese Masseg to be taken care of at ~he motherhouse or at the individual missions? A "foundation for Masses,'" or "funded Masses," is a sum of money given with the intention that it" be inuested and the annual income used as stipends for Masses to be said for the intentions of the donor (canons 826, ~ 3, and 1544, ~ 1). The place where the Masses are to be celebrated depends upon the will of the donor or founder. A religious institute must have the consent of-the local ordinary, given in writing, before it may accept such a foundation (canon 1546, n.l)." .It must likewis~ have the consent of the local ordinary b~fore investing the capital and for every change of investment (canons 533, ~ 1, nn. 3 and 4; canon 1547). Finall%, the religious institute must give an account of the administration of such fohnda-tions to the local ordinary on the occasion of'his canonical visitation (canon 535, ~ 3, n. 2). Undoubtedly the motherhouse is in a better position to administer -such a foundation than a local mission house. But if the will o£the founder requires that the Masses be said locally, and if in such a case it 'is desired to transfer the foundation to the motherhouse for its admin-istration, then permission for the transfer must be obtained from the ordinary of the place where the Masses are to be said and an account must be given to him by the Id'cal superior on ~he occasion of his canonical visitation. Futtffermore, his permission must be obtained for the initial investment of the' foundation and for every change of investment. The modern tendency, at least in the United States, i~ against pecpetaa~ foundations. Hence it would be preferable to have the foundation made for a definite number of years twenty-fiye, or, forty, or at most fifty. Some diocesan statates require this, and the faithful are informed that their wills will be thus interpreted. How much water may be added to holy water in order to "stretch" i~? ~lday hol~ water be diluted more than half and then disposed of,'as it has lost its blessing ? ~ Canon 757 p.rovides for such a method of "stretching" baptisraa! 128 ~arcb, 1946 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS~ ~water (l~y adding less th~n half~of~he quantity on hand). Perhaps one might argue-that, the same method could be fo|lowed with regfird to'ho!y water. However, there seems to be no need for such a pro-cedure since it is so easy~ to have holy water blessed. On.e may dilute holy water more than half and then dispose of it because it has lost its blessing. But this does not seem to be neces-sary since holy water which is no longer suit.fible for' use may be dis-posed of by pouring it into the sacrarium, 14 A youn.g woman off entering religion is already insured in a family insurance policy: besides she has taken out a twenty-year endowment pol- " icy upon which she must still make seventeen annual payments. (I) When it comes to making her will befoPe first'-profession, is she oblkjed to refer to the above facts at all? (2) If no mention of insurance is made in her will,-and the insurance on the endowment policy becomes due, what right has the religious or her community to the money? (3) If her parents keep up the premiums on the family insurance policy, is the religious entitldd' to make any claim on the insurance when it comes due? (4) If the religlous dies before the time when her endowment policy falls due, who gets the insur-ance? (5) If the beneficiary of a life insurance policy should die shortly before .the religious does, so that the latter has no opportunlty.to appoint° another beneficiary before her own death, who gets the insurance money? Life insurance is a contract by which the ir~surer, in ~onsideration of a certain p.remium, undertakes to pay a stipulated sum (6r an. annuity equivalent) upon the death of the person whose'life is insured" to the person (the beneficiary) for whose benefit the insurance is written. In a wide sense any insurance policy which is p~yable to any member of the family" could be called "family insurance." Inca strict sense this term refers to small policies written on young children for small weekly or monthly payments made by their parents. Usually the insurance is payable to the parents upon the death of the child, or,. in the case of an endowment policy, at the expiration of the~ period of the policy. In cases where parents insure their children between the ages of ten to fifteen years, the parent can give the child the right tO change the-beneficiary after he has attained a certain age (usua|ly 1"8 .- to 21), and the policy will be writfen accordingly. Tfaus ~he chil~ will have the right to change the beneficiary automatically upoh" reaching the specified age. Lea~cing aside now the specific form of family insurance expihined Review fo~ Reli~lious above, adults can kake out life ins°urance in one of ~three different ways :~ .either ordin~r.y life pla~i, or limited life .policy, or by endow-ment policy, The ordinary life plan involves paying a premium" annually throughout life: the limited life plan requires~ the p.ayment~ ¯ of a premium for a specified number of years only (for instance, 20 Y~ars), after which no further premiums need be paid, but the ins~ir-~ ance is not payable until after the death of the person insurdd; an endowment policy involves the payment of a premium for a defihite number of years at the expiration of which the insurafice may be col-lected only by the insured either in a lump sum, or in definite annual phyments for a definite number of years.~ Sl4ould the in~ured die befole the expiration of the term of the endowment ~policy, a defini~td sum ~f insurance will be paid to the dir'ect beneficiary .whose name has been written into the Policy. Keeping t'hese geheral ideas in min~l, 'let us now take up the ques- ¯ tiofis "proposed. "(1) Is a novice required t6 mention her insurance pol.ic!~es in the will she is obliged to make shortly before her firgt pro-fdssion of ~row~? The answer is no, since, an insurance policy is a contrhci by which the insurance will be paid automatically to the-be'fi~ eficiary 6f the polic.y upon the death.of the insured person. This - ~.- .-insurance is the equivalent of a- g!~t morris causa, and does not enter-" in-to .the will of the deceased. However, if the novice is to. continue the payments of premiums on an insurance policy during her life-time, she will have to make.provision for these payments when she appoints her administrator and determines what use is to be made of . her annual' income. - She may provide that ~these~ payments be made from her annual incom.e, if that is sufficient to cover it. " ~2) What right has the religious or her community to the insur-ance 0r/an endowment policy when it becomes payable? As regards the religious herself, we must distinguish between the two policies mentioned in question one. (a) If her parents have paid the pre- -miums on the family insurance policy, and have. not grafited th~ reli-gious the rigl~t to change the beneficiary, she has no right to the ~insurance, since it belongs to her pa.rents. If they have granted her this right, and she has changed the beneficiary in her own favor, the insurance comes to her and isto b~ added to her patrimony. (b) In the case of ~he twenty-year endowment policy, the insurance belongs ~o her, provided the religious has made all the payments herself. It is p~rt of her 'patrimOny, and should be reinvested. ~,Thecommunity ha~ no right~ to ahy of the insurance under either 130' ,~arcb, 1946 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS policy when it becomes~payable by reason of the expiration of the - term for- which the endowment policy was issued.'~ In case the reli~ gious'w~re tO die before the expiration of the period for which endowment policy had been issue~, and provided° that the community had been written into th~ policy as the direct beneficiary in case of death, then of "course the insurance would go to the community. (3) If. the parents keep up the premiums on the family insurance policy, the religious has no right to claim the insurance when it is due at the expiration of the period for which it was written: but belongs to heb parents ~nless they had given her the right to change the beneficiary and she had done so in her own favor. (4) If the religious dies before the expiration of the twenty years fo~ which her own endowment policy was written, the direct beneficiary gets the insurance. (5) If the direct bene.ficiary of a life insurance policy ~hou!d die Shortly before the death of the ieligious who had taken out the pol. icy, and the latter had no opportunity to appoint another beneficiary or for some reason failed to do so, then the insurance reverts to the. estate of th~ deceased religious, and it would be distributed ~long~.with her other per.sonal propery in conformity with her last will and tes- ~° tament. To avoid such a ,contingency, it is always advisabld to desig- ¯nate in the policy itself a second or contingent beneficiary who will" take the place.of the direct beneficiary in case of his death. " . Supposing that the novice,-because of l~ck of income or for any: other reason, does nor care to keep oup the payments of the premiums _ on her twenty-year endowment policy, she may do one of three, -things: drop the policy altogether; or better, if the'polic~r allows it, take a c~sh value payment based upon the amount which she has alrea.dy paid in: or make an agreement with her parents or witl~ her ,kommunity Whereby either would keep up the payments and collect." the insurance, and then pa); back the amount of money the religious had already paid as premiums up to the time that she turned the pol-icy .ove.r to them. In this last case the parent or community should -be written into the policy as the direct beneficiary in case of death before th.e expiration of ~he endowment policy. In our.hospltal we have a chapel which is frequented byt.he rellglo.u~s communi~.h/, patlen~, and, hospital emplo,/ees. ~Are ,~e ~llo~ed ~o h~ve the Holy Week services in our. chapel? Q.u,~s~to~s ~o/~sw~s " " I~evlew rot l~etigious ' You~ chapel is a se~ni~p'ublic chapel as defined in canon 1188 of the Code. In Such a semi-public oratory or chapel lawfully erected, all divine services and ecclesiastical functions may be celebrated, unless the rubrics f6rbid or the ordinary has made ;ome exception (c.: 1193). The rubrics requi.re that the services-of the last three days of Holy Week be celebrated solemnly, that is, with deacon and sub-deacon. If.~these can be had, you. may have the solemn services in y.our chapel. If only one priest is available you may not have the simplified services (without.deacon and sub-deacon)~unless you get special permis~sion fromCyour local ordinary: " In the case of a paroi:hlal grade and high school conducted by Sisters, there exists a school bank fund from which all the expens.es of the school are " paid. In general, is it permissible to place all profits arising from school activities of various kinds into this fund? In partic.ula;: (I) May the profits of the school cafeteria be.put into this g,ene~al fund? 12) If a gym fee is charged', may what is left over at the end of the_year after expeqses are paid be.put into thls same fund? (3) If a fee is charged for children's, sup-piles-- ink, crayons, and the llke--may what is left over after expenses are ~--. paid.be.transferred to tee cJeneral school fund? (4) May the balance 0t! .~Jepo~;~s made for br~ak~cje ;n the science department be transferred fo ~ ~ the cjeneral school fun~ at the end of the year? This general sch6ol fungi has'no connection with the expenses and receipts of the religious com-munffy. The tuitibn paid by pupils of parochial and d~ocesan scl~oois .iS ordinarily not sufficient to cover running expenses of the school, including upkeep of buildings, furnishings, and other necessary? equipment; hence any profit derived from the pupils could be con-sidered as being given back to them by~p'lacing it in the general school" fund,, as it helps to keep the school going for their'benefit. The .sup-position is; of course, that all such profits are legitimate, and not sub-ject to or.her conditions. (1) The profitsderived from the scho~Lcafeteria may .certainly be put in the general fund, since they must be given back to the pupils in some shape or form to avoid forbidden selling. (2) In the case of the gym fee, there is no question of buying and selling; hence a°profit. may be legitimately derived from such fe.es. !f these fees are charged merely, for the Use of the gym, the profit arising may be used for any purpose; hence it may also be put into the general fund. If the 132 March, 1946 BOO~ REVIEWS express purpose ot: the gym flee is to provide for the upkeep of the. gym and for improved equipment, then the profits should be kept and used for this purpose only. (3) The profit derived from the fee for supplies such as ink, ~crayons, and the like will either be small or large; if it is small,~-it may be added to the common fund; if it is large, that.would be an indica-tion that the fee is too high. The balance should ~b.e kept~ in the ink and crayon fund and used for further supplies to be distributed gratis to the children until the fund.is exhausted, when a new fee may be asked of them. (4) The very nature of a deposit for breakage precludes ahOypos-sible profit from this source. What is left at the end of the year must be returned to each student, since he has a right to it in justice. t ook Reviews JO~N HENRY NEWMAN. By John Moo'dy. Pp. xlv -I-353. Sheed and Ward, NewYork, 1945. $3.75. This life of Newma

Issue 59.5 of the Review for Religious, 2000. ; Cons~crat,eld Life SEPTEMBER O(~TOBER "~- 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 5 o to God's universal call,to holiness o by maki~i~ a~ailabie t~ them thespiritual legdcles ~ " tbat flow from tbe cbarisms_of Catholic consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: foppema@slu.edu Manuscripts, books for review, 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's Seminary; 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. ©2000 Review for Religious " Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. MI 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 cop3~ing 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. iew 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 James and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger-OS.B Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla sJ Patricia Wittberg sC SEPTEMBER OCTOBER 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 5 contents catholic education 454 471 Ex Corde Ecclesiae: A History from Land O'Lakes to Now Martin R. Tripole SJ presents a brief history of Catholic higher education in the United States since Vatican Council II in order to give a context for the issues of contention in recent church documents. Theology Lived in Faith Stan Parmisano OP reflects on the all-pervasiveness of faith in our study o.f theology--a seeing or understanding all the way. 479 488 religious identity Generation X and Religious Life: A Personal View Matthew Eggemeier presents some characteristics of his own generation and highlights the aspects of religious life which appeal to young people. Bride of Christ and Ecclesial Identity J. Sheila Galligan IHM proposes that a renewed understanding of the church as the bride of Christ offers support for a readily identifiable religious habit, specifically distinguished by a veil. 5OO a way of living Work in Such a Way Marie Beha OSC ponders the various ways of living out the Franciscan directive "Work in such a way as not to extinguish the spirit of prayer." Review for Religious 5O7 518 The Little Way of St. Th~r~se of Lisieux Ernest E. Larkin OCarm explains the "specialness" of the life and writings of Th~r~se of Lisieux in presenting the gospel in a new light, with new insight, under the descriptive phrases "little way" or "little doctrine." The Power to Bless: The Sacramentality of Human Touch Carolyn Sur SSND encourages all women and men to participate more fully in their baptismal call to share in Christ's priesthood. 526 537 consecrated life Community and Obedience: Musings on Two Ambiguities Patricia Wittberg SC challenges the notion of reaching a balance point in community life where the needs of the group and the needs of the individual are met--all the while observing religious obedience. Our Past Mission's Unfinished Destiny: The Perspective of Vowed Commitment Philip Armstrong CSC finds a new relevancy in Metz's Poverty of Spirit for any community's pr.eparation for canonical chapters or assemblies. departments ¯ ¯ 452 Prisms 542 Canonical Counsel: Role of the Novice Director 547 Book Reviews September-October 2000 prisms Justice is a major theme of the jubilee year we are celebrating as we enter into this new mil-lennium. With so much evident injustice in our civil society, injustice paradoxically in our justice systems, and even apparent injustice in our divine and all-too-human church, we can appreciate a reexamination for ourselves about our response to God's call to walk justly. For justice is a tricky concept. We often identify jus-tice with a balance sheet. We hear "an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth" not as a statement of vengeance, but as our own words for our idea of justice. And Jesus clearly said that such an interpretation of justice has no connection with the way God sees life. Justice based on rights, justice based on equal balances, may approach a. good philosopher's or civil libertarian's idea of justice. But it is perhaps no more than the threshold of a Christian understanding of justice. To paraphrase a Hopkins-like expression, too often "justice injustices." When we struggle and fight for rights for the oppressed, who will be the new oppressed of our efforts? When we bully our way to see justice done, who will be trampled in the process? As we fight to provide life for some, what others are having to face a dying? Re!igious, in trying to fulfill a prophetic role in today's church, have made fresh claims on justice as their mission. But the question remains whether in their lUStlce efforts they have been more ~ften a stimulus for the increase of injustice. God's just.iFe, the gospel justice, is not a simple mat- ¯ ter of securing rights and seeking a balance of scales, as Review for Religious we see depicted in our classical justice statues. The justice that Jesus describes deals with a turning the other cheek, with a giving of my clo'ak, with a walking of an extra mile. Justice is more iden-tified with compassion, the compassion of a father who looks for his wayward child and rushes out to greet him and and welcome him home with a celebration. This understanding of justice finds a very narrow gateway into the human heart. We seem to be only at the .threshold of realizing that there is today no such thing as a just war--if ever there was such a possibility. With great difficulty we, especially in the United States, are slow in realizing that capital punishment is not an act of justice. It more represents vengeance and sullies even further and makes less human those who advocate its use. With an abundance of lawyers, our society has not become more just but rather more litigious. Absorbing this kind of culture, even we followers of Jesus quickly claim rights, less so responsibilities. We see justice with an individual eye; common good is no longer an horizon of vision, even religiously. Are not we Catholics, especially women and men religious, called to be agents of communion in such a culture? An agent of communion, making God's justice alive in the world, will come to understand why the cross is a paradoxical sign of justice. The cross remains the sign of human iustice--the result of a human court calling for the death of an innocent Jewish man. The cross remains God's symbol of justice--allowing arms to be strtetched wide to the left and to the right in an everlasting ges-ture of reconciliation. Working in Jesus' name, the agent of com-munion, the ambassador of reconciliation, will find the cross integral to living and promoting gospel justice. The call that we hear in this jubilee year, then, is not for the simple justice of all properties being restored to the original own-ers of fifty years ago. It is not a call to ~ justice of the balance sheet. The call to which we Christians are challenged to respond puts our feet into the footprints of Jesus. If we are to walk justly with our God, we need to be people who know how to talk earnestly with others along the way. We call it dialogue. We need to be people who can negotiate. We need to be people who seek reconciliation. We need to be a people who act like Christ. As agents of communion, we seek to live a gospel justice. David L. Fleming sJ September-October 2000 catholic education MARTIN R. TRIPOLE Ex Corde Ecclesiae: A History from Land O'Lakes to Now Ex corde ecdesiae (From the Heart of the Church), Pope John Paul II's apostolic constitution on Catholic universities, was released in Rome on 25 September 1990. That document and a subsequent one, "Ex Corde Ecdesiae: An Application to the United States" (hereafter "Application"), are generating much excitement in Catholic higher education in the United States tqday. Ex corde ecdesiae was long in the making. Data on its history is available, but not in a neat compendium. The purpose of this essay is (1) to provide a brief and manageable survey of its history, as well as of its com-panion document, "Ex Corde Ecdesiae: An Application to the United States"; (2) to explain the theological foun-dations for the understanding of what a Catholic uni-versity is, as contained in the two documents; and (3) to focus on the issues of contention and the implications of those issues as contained in the two documents. Martin R. Tripole SJ, associate professor of theology at St. Joseph's University, was coordinator of "Jesuit Education 21," a conference held in June 1999. He edited its volume of Proceedings, published in June 2000 by St. Joseph's University Press. He also edited Promise Renewed, 27 papers. on Jesuit higher education (Chicago: Loyola Press, 1999) and wrote Faith beyond Justice: Widening the Perspective (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1994). His address is St. Joseph's University; 5600 City Avenue; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. Review for Religious History of Ex Corde Ecclesiae Ex corde ecclesiae may be understood as the latest event in a conflict that has been going on between the Catholic Church and modernity since Pius x's condemnation of Modernism in 1907.~ But here we begin with 1949, when Pius XlI, in collaboration with the Sacred Congregation for Catholic Education, called together the leaders of "pontifical" institutions, that is, institutions char-tered directly by the Holy See, to form an association that later came to be known as the International Federation of Catholic Universities (IFCU). This federation became an independent asso-ciation in 1963 and, under the direction of the Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh CSC, president of the University of Notre Dame, was broadened to include most Catholic colleges and universities? From 1963 to 1990 there was a long series of conferences and disputes over what a Catholic university is and what its goals should be. Views were and are divided. Some give primacy to the Catholic institution and its educational goals as integral to the life of the church; others see Catholic universities primarily as an institution governed by the rules for good universities that operate in the sec-ular community. For the former group, the emphasis is on the Catholic university as Catholic, as an arm of the church carrying on its mission, which is to proclaim the gospel of truth to the world, harmonize the teachings of faith and reason, and promote the Christianizing of human life and the social order, For the latter group, the emphasis is on the Catholic university as university, as a center for study and research in competition with secular uni-versities for qualitative teaching and scholarly excellence. There will perhaps always be some tension between these two viewpoints, but in recent history (1967) a decisive radical move occurred in Catholic education, a move that I believe led to the creation of Ex corde ecclesiae and the great divide in Catholic education today. Let me provide a brief history. The search for a definition of a Catholic university gets under-way with a 1965 meeting oflFCU in Tokyo.3 This meeting appears to have been a response to the new theology of the church gener-ated by the Second Vatican Council (1962-1965), especially the council's most original document, "The Church in the Modern World" (Gaudium et spes). It was only natural for Catholic educa-tion to rethink its role in the world in the light of Vatican II's emphasis both on the need to make the gospel relevant to modern life and on the importance of the laity in accomplishing this mis- Septe~nber-October 2000 Tripole ¯ Ex Corde Ecclesiae sion. And so the Sacred Congregation for Catholic Education and IFCU "cooperated in sponsoring a series of regional meetings throughout the world on the nature of the modern Catholic uni-versity and its role in the church and world.''4 These regional meetings were held in Buga (Colombia), Manila, Paris, and, most important for Catholic education in America, a Wisconsin resort town known as Land O'Lakes, where the Holy Cross Fathers had a villa house, to which Father Hesburgh invited twenty-six men, leaders in American Catholic higher education, to come to formulate a statement on the role of Catholic universities in America. Twenty-one were priests or bishops, and two of the laymen were the chairmen of the boards of trustees of Saint Louis University and the University of Notre Dame (Gallin, p. 12). Church historian David J. O'Brien states, "As the church would be permanently changed by Vatican II, North America's Catholic universities would be forever changed by. the meeting and resultant statement that became known simply as 'Land O'Lakes.'''s Philip Gleason of Notre Dame asserts in his Contending with Modernity: Catholic Higher Education in the Twentieth Century (p. 317) that the Land O'Lakes statement., took on a life of its own as a symbolic manifesto that marked the opening of a new era in American Catholic higher education . [It] was, indeed, a declaration of independence from the hierarchy and a symbolic turning point. It confirmed at the college and university level what John Cogley told Catholic educators the year before: the church's future path might remain unclear, but her "cold war with modernity" was definitely over. What makes Land O'Lakes so important? Let us note, first, three issues that have been explicit or implicit in higher-educa-tion statements ever since the Land O'Lakes statement: (1) insti-tutional autonomy, meaning no outside interference in the educational operations of universities; (2) academic freedom, mean-ing scholars are to be restricted only by the limitations of their own sciences; and (3) fidelity to the teachings of the church, that is, abiding by the authoritative teachings of the Catholic Church's magisterium. Land O'Lakes started a movement that put so much importance on the first two--institutional autonomy and academic freedom, both understood as demanding independence from church authority--that the church responded by making fidelity to Review for Religious the magisterium an essential characteristic of Catholic education. And so what did Land O'Lakes say? It asserted the primacy of the Catholic university as a university. In the brief document of about 1500 words (composed largely by Robert J. Henle SJ,6 who was then academic vice president of Saint Louis University and later was president of Georgetown University), the first paragraph is especially important: The Catholic university today must be a university in the full modern sense of the word, with a strong commitment to and concern for academic excellence. To perform its teaching and research functions effectively, the Catholic university must have a true autonomy and academic free-dom in the face of authority of whatever kind, lay or cler-ical, external to the academic community itself. To say this is simply to assert that institutional autonomy and aca-demic freedom are essential conditions of life and growth and indeed of survival for Catholic universities as for all universities.7 The document goes on to say that "every university, Catholic or not, serves as the critical reflective intelligence of its society" and that, "in keeping with this general function, the Catholic univer-sity., should carry on a continual examination of all aspects and all activities of the church and should objectively evaluate them" (Gallin, p. 9). This may have been more of a contribution from Catholic universities than the Vatican was interested in having. Representatives of the four regional meetings met in September 1968 at the Eighth Triennial Congress of IFCU in Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of Congo. The Kinshasa docu-ment, titled "The Catholic University in the Modern World," states, consistently with Vatican II, that a Catholic university draws its inspiration "from the light of revealed truth," making the university a "center for development and diffusion of an authentic Christian culture." There are no juridical aspects in the Kinshasa document: Catholic universities are only asked to accept voluntarily the '!Church's teaching authority" (Gallin, pp. 13-16, at 14-15). In May 1969 an international meeting of thirty elected dele-gates of Catholic universities met in Rome and drew up a document titled "The Catholic University and the Aggiornamento." Both Henle and Hesburgh were present at this congress. It was here that the four essential characteristics of a Catholic university were September-October 2000 Tripole ¯ Ex Corde Ecclesiae composed, which became a part of standard Catholic documenta-tion from then on, including Ex corde ecclesiae (Hellwig, p. 22): 1. A Christian inspiration not only of individuals but of the university community as such. 2. A continuing reflection in the light of the Catholic faith upon the growing treasury of human knowledge, to which it seeks to contribute by its own research. 3. Fidelity to the Christian message as it comes to us through the church. 4. An institutional commitment to the service of the peo-ple of God and of the human family in their pilgrimage to the transcendent goal which gives meaning to life. (Ex corde ecclesiae, Origins 20, no. 17 I4 October 1990]: 269) The 1969 document takes a very strong stand on the inde-pendence of the university. In line with the thinking of Land O'Lakes and the Kinshasa statements, the 1969 document reit-erates that a Catholic university "must have a true autonomy and academic freedom," but even more strongly it states that a Catholic university must be allowed to pursue the truth "without conditions." It asserts that "every limitation imposed on the uni-versity which would clash with this unconditioned attitude for pursuing truth would be intolerable and contrary to the very nature of the university." The only obligation the university has, according to the document, is "to the legitimate exigencies of the society which sustains it," meaning civil society. The document states that the magisterium "can intervene only in a situation where the truth of the revealed message is at stake," but even then it does not state how this intervention would occur, but only that university statutes must be observed. The theologian "is bound. ¯. to take into proper account the pronouncements of the church" and "must. present the authentic teaching of the church," but nothing is said about what would happen if he does not. The doc-ument explicitly states for the first time that. "any juridical inter-vention in university affairs must be excluded" (Gallin, pp. 17-35 at 17-20). This issue of a juridical relationship between the church and th( university becomes the major bone of contention in sub-sequent debate. The second international congress convened by the Sacred Congregation for CatholicEducation and IFCU and held in Rome in November 1972 apprdved a document titled "The Catholic Review ?or Religious University in the Modern World." Considerable attention is given in the document to "Relations with the Catholic Hierarchy." The document recognizes that there is a "delicate balance to be main-tained between the autonomy of a Catholic university and the responsibilities of the hierarchy." The document reiterates the 1969 position that "theologians must present the authentic doctrine of the church," but insists that they "be able to pursue their dis-cipline in the same manner as other research scholars." While the document.recognizes the right of the magisterium to pass judgment on the doctrinal integrity of a theologian's teaching, it nevertheless calls for "a kind of self-regulation of the Catholic academic community." Consistent with the 1969 document, the authors assert that there is to be no "juridical intervention, whether direct or indirect, in the institutional affairs of the university" (Gallin, pp. 37-57 at 53-56). When the plenary assembly of the Sacred Congregati'on for Catholic Education met in 1973, however, it found the 1972 document to need improvement. Here for the first time Rome begins to inter-vene. A letter of Cardinal Gabriel Garrone, prefect of the con-gregation; written to the university presidents, makes three points: (1) the statutes of Catholic universities musl~ declare their "com-mitment as 'Catholic'"; (2) "appropriate andefficacious instru-ments" of "self-regulation,' regarding faith and morality must be established; and (3) the universities must "in no way" consider themselves "removed" from their "relationships" with the hier-archy (Gallin, pp. 59-61 at 60). What exactly that means is unclear, but I think we can see here the beginnings of a backlash against the idea of pure self-regulation that began with Land O'Lakes in 1967. To understand these meetings of educators, we need two back-ground elements. First, throughout the 1970s, there was an increaso At the plenary assembly of the Sacred Congregation for Catholic Education in 1973, we can see the beginnings of a backlash against the idea of pure self-regulation that began with Land O'Lakes in 1967. September-October 2000 Tripole ¯ Ex Corde Ecclesiae ing movement toward incorporation of colleges and universities separate from the religious congregations that founded them. This, it was argued, was necessary to maintain the constitutional sepa-ration of church and state required to receive the federal and state funding necessary to survive. At the same time, the boards of trustees of these institutions became predominantly lay. This, it was argued, was in compliance with Vatican II's new theology of the laity and the need for the expertise and financial resources the laity could bring to Catholic education. Thus a new movement deliberately alienating Catholic universities from their relation-ship to the church and religious orders set in, and sometimes with-out any consultation with the church hierarchy. This caused the Vatican to wonder what was happening to American Catholic higher education, and to ask whether it still remained Catholic (Gallin, pp. 63-64). Second, in June 1975 the Vatican began to move forward on an apostolic constitution that appeared in 1979: Sapientia Christiana (Christian Wisdom). Its purpose was to regulate the life of "eccle-siastical faculties," sometimes called "pontifical" institutes. These are universities directly chartered or erected and approved by the Vatican (The Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C., is one of these). The juridical framework of this discussion was directed toward complying with the demands the new Code of Canon Law was to make upon "ecclesiastical" faculties. This doc-ument was being prepared to regulate these "ecclesiastical facul-ties," not Catholic universities. But the mere preparations for this document caused Catholic universities to fear, correctly, that some kind of juridical restructuring was also awaiting them (Gallin, pp. 63-64). When it became known with the first official draft of the new Code in 1978 that new juridical and canonical bonds were also to be established for Catholic universities, many American Catholic educators struggled to get those canons revised or dropped, but to no avail. The new Code appeared in 1983 with, in canon 812, the dreaded word mandatum used for the first timE. It reads: Those who teach theological disciplines in any institutes of higher education whatsoever must have a mandate (man-datum) from the competent ecclesiastical authority. The new canons did not cause much interest at Catholic institutions in America at first, for it was generally held that they would not be applicable in the United States, where juridical ties to the church Review for Religious did not exist and where a rigorous system of separation of church and state was constitutionally binding (Hellwig, pp. 25-28). But Rome saw otherwise. In 1980 the Sacred Congregation for Catholic Education started working on a document for Catholic universities. After the new Code appeared, the document was adapted to fit the new canons 807-814 governing Catholic uni-versities. A working document, called "Draft Schema of a Pontifical Document on Catholic Universities," was composed in April 1985 and sent to all bishops and university presidents for review. A sec-ond draft was made in 1988, and a new review panel of presidents and bishops met with John Paul II and congregation officials in Rome in April 1989. This panel recommended that normative principles should be few and general in nature, and that they be adapted by regional bishops' conferences. The panel wanted no mention made of the juridical canons of the new canon law (Gallin, pp. 381-383 at 381-382). In August 1989 the congregation's draft-ing committee issued a third draft, taking into account the rec-ommendations that had been made. A further revision was presented to the October 1989 plenary session of the congregation and then to the pope. In September 1990 the apostolic constitu-tion on Catholic universities, Ex corde ecdesiae, was issued (Gallin, pp. 189-190; Hellwig, pp. 28-29). Many American presidents remained optimistic, even though the request for no mention of the new juridical canons of the Code was ignored. Still, they considered the constitution harmless enough if it was not applied to the American scene too stringently. The battle scene now changes. The document applying Ex corde ecclesiae to the United States was to be drawn up by American university presidents and the National Conference of Catholic Bishops. A committee of six bis'hops and eight presidents, chaired by Bishop John J. Leibrecht of Springfield-Cape Girardeau, Missouri, was formed. Its first draft, in 1993, met with so much dis-approval that it was promptly rejected as too juridical. Father Terry Toland, former president of St. Joseph's University, was enlisted, as director of the National Conference of Catholic Bishops' Committee to Review and Implement the Apostolic Constitution Ex Corde Ecdesiae, to compose a more acceptable draft. After exten-sive conversations with bishops and presidents all across the coun-try, he presented a new draft to the bishops' conference in November 1996; it passed 224 to 6. September- October 2000 Tripole * Ex Corde Ecdesiae By early summer 1997, what was sent to Rome and thought to be a final document was sent back as a "first draft" that was unacceptable without juridical ordinances. The document did not have any juridical elements and, instead, spoke of "trust between university and church authorities, close and consistent collaboration, and continuing dialogue" (Hellwig, pp. 34-35). A concession that Cardinal Anthony Bevilacqua had received enabled the document to pass overwhelmingly. Canon 812, which contains the requirement that theologians get a man-date from the local bishop, had been completely removed from consideration even though it was in Ex corde ecclesiae. Now it was simply mentioned in footnote 7 as a point that "would be the sub-ject of further study" (Hellwig, pp. 35-36). By early summer 1997, what was sent to Rome and thought to be a final document was sent back as a "first draft" that was unacceptable without juridi-cal ordinances. The sacred congregation specifically asked that canon 812 be con-sidered no~v, along with the "requirement that presidents and theology teachers make the profession of faith and take the oath of fidelity that canon law requires of chui'ch officials" (Hellwig, p. 36). Back at the drawing board, Bishop Leibrecht appointed a sub-committee headed by Cardinal Bevilacqua and composed of canon lawyers. Their proposal, which restored juridical elements to the document, Was presented for discussion at the bishops' annual meeting in November 1998. It caused problems. Archbishop Rembert Weakland, of Milwaukee, proposed that the bishops reject the juridical app.roach and send once again the 1996 proposal that called only for trust, collaboration, and continuing dialogue. This was seconded by the Association of Catholic Colleges and Universities (ACCU) in February 1999, but the idea never suc-ceeded. In April 1999 Monika Hellwig, representing ACCU, and Charles Currie SJ, former rector of the Jesuit community at St. Joseph's University and now head of the Association of Jesuit Colleges and Universities (AJCU), went to Rome to press their views with the Congregation for Catholic Education and, back in the United States, continued to lobby the bishops here. Review for Religious In June 1999 the American bishops met to review all the com-ments made on the third draft. The subcommittee met again in September to work on a fourth draft. This was presented at the annual fall meeting in Washington in November 1999. Again ACCU and AJCU lobbied strongly to get the bishops to reject.the docu-ment, which needed a two-thirds majority to pass, and they felt they might succeed. But this document applying Ex corde ecclesiae to the United States was overwhelmingly approved by a vote of 223-31 with one abstention. "Application" went to Rome for approval by the Sacred Congregation for Catholic Education, whose new head was Archbishop Giuseppe Pittau SJ, and by the Council for the Interpretation of Legal Documents. It was returned recently with approval and only minor modifications. On 1 June 2000 the American bishops indicated that "Application" will go into effect in this country on 3 May 2001, one year after it was approved by the Congregation for Bishops in Rome. Let us now discuss the theology operating in both Ex come ecclesiae and "An Application to the United States" and then discuss the issues of contention. Theological Justification for Ex Corde Ecclesiae The title of the apostolic constitution Ex corde ecdesiae (From the heart of the church) suggests the whole story. The document's position is that Catholic universities exist as an integral part of the life of the church. The document says, "Every Catholic uni-versity., has a relationship to the church that is essential to its institutional identity" (§27). As such, the Catholic university shares in the mission of the church and is governed, like any other Catholic entity, by the local bishop and through him by the mag-isterium of the universal church. Its specific mission as a univer-sity, says Ex corde ecclesia.e, is "a continuous quest for truth through its research, and the preservatign and communication of knowledge for the good of society" (§30), but this mission as a university can never be separated from its larger mission (shared by all members of the Christian community) to deepen the presence of Christ in the world (§16). One of the roles of the university, according to Ex corde eccle-siae, is to "promote dialogue between faith and reason" so that the world becomes ever more aware of the "unity of all truth" (§ 17). Accordingly, the university's quest for truth and the promotion of September-October 2000 Tripole ¯ Ex Corde Ecdesiae the dignity of human persons can never be separated from the vision of Truth that comes through revelation and is made known by the church through the magisterium's teaching "in matters of faith and morals" (§27). The goal of Catholic universities is there-fore to be of service both to the church and to society. This it does as a university by being an "instrument of cultural progress for individuals as well as for society"; but as a Catholic university it must also serve the church in the "development of a true Christian anthropology founded on the person of Christ" (§§32-33). Most of the critics of Ex corde ecclesiae argue, ~s we have seen as early as the Land O'Lakes statement in 1967, that Catholic uni-versities must enjoy "a true autonomy and academic freedom in the face of authority of whatever kind, lay or clerical, external to the academic community itself" (Gallin, p. 7). As the document "The Catholic University and the Aggiornamento" asserted in 1969 and as was repeatedly urged by many Catholic educators thereafter, the theologian "must be able to pursue his discipline in the same manner as other research scholars," and have his work evaluated only by his peers "as is the case in other disciplines" (Gallin, p. 20). Autonomy here is understood as freedom from restraints of any kind external to the discipline. The church's perspective is quite different. If the university is Catholic, the university's autonomy includes the church. Thus, whereas critics argue that the bishop's governance constitutes an external constraint upon the life of the university, Ex corde ecclesiae argues that, "even when they do not enter directly into the inter-nal governance of the university, bishops 'should be seen not as external agents but as participants in the life of the Catholic uni-versity'" (§28) because the university is part of the life of the church. "Ex Corde Ecclesiae: An Application to the United States" (1999) expresses an even richer and deeper theological foundation for the integration of the university into the life of the church. Based on the teaching of Vatican II, "Application" argues from an "ecclesi-ology of communion" that the "church is made up of individual faithful and communities linked with one another [and with the tri-une God] through many active ecclesial relationships." The "dynamic of communion," according to "Application," unites on a deeper level "the various communities in the church" through which her "mission of salvation" operates. "The Catholic univer-sity is [seen] as a vital institution in the communion of the church and [as] 'a primary and privileged place for a fruitful dialogue Review for Religious between the gospel and culture.'" This "richness of communion" brings out the "complementary teaching roles of bishops and Catholic universities." Each has its own "distinctive autonomous nature and goal," but in the unity of communion they "are joined as complementary activities," embracing both the pastoral work of bishops and the academic work of Catholic universities, thus linking the bishops' right and obligation to communicate and safeguard the integrity of church doctrine with the right and obligation of Catholic universities to investigate, analyze, and communicate all truth freely. Thus the Catholic university as such has a "twofold relationship"-- one to the "international community of knowledge," the other to the church--"of guaranteeing in institutional form a .Christian presence in the university world" (Part 1, II and III). Issues of Contention Now I mention some of the issues of contention that these two documents address: 1. Ex corde ecclesiae states under its General Norms that all Catholic universities must conform their governin.g statutes to the general norms listed in Ex corde ecclesiae and must submit these statutes "for approval to the competent ecclesiastical authority" (II, Art. 1, no. 3) This could be seen by some presidents as a major violation of the autonomy of the university and, if implemented, as a matter for litigation. 2. Ex corde ecclesiae states that university administrators are to be recruited who "are both willing and able to promote., or at least to respect" the "Catholic identity of the university" (II, Art. 4, nos. 1-2). "Application" goes even further, saying that "the uni-versity president should be a Catholic" (Part 2, Art. 4, 3a). But, since "Application" says '!should be" and not "must be," the imple-mentation will depend upon how rigorously the local bishops wish to enforce it. 3. The same applies to boards of trustees. According to Ex corde ecclesiae, the board members must be informed of their respon-sibility to promote or respect the Catholic identity; but in "Application" the norm says further: "To the extent possible, the majority of the board should be Catholics committed to the church" (Part 2, Art. 4, 2b). Note again that the norm, while being September-October 2000 Tripole ¯ Ex Corde Ecclesiae more rigorous, demands implementation only "to the extent pos-sible," which leaves room for exceptions. The critical issue here, however, is how to determine whether a Catholic is "committed to the church." Though this phrase is not as vague as the original "faithful Catholic" requirement, it does not offer any precise way of measurement. 4. When the university president assumes office, according to "Application," the "Catholic should express his or her commit-ment to the university's Catholic identity and to the Catholic faith in accordance with canon 833, 7°'' (which states that the rector of a Catholic university, upon assuming that office, is "obliged per-sonally to make a profession of faith" to the local bishop or his delegate). If the president is not a Catholic, a "commitment to the university's Catholic mission and identity" is required (17 November 1999 "Application" [Origins 29, no. 25, 2 December 1999], Part 2, Art. 4, 3a, and endnote 36). These norms will seem unduly rigorous to many presidents and a violation of institutional autonomy. 5. "All professors are expected to be aware of and committed to the Catholic mission and identity of their institutions" ("Application," Part 2, Art. 4, 4a). This obviously will create fear among non-Catholic instructors, who will see this as a violation of academic freedom and a matter that could be used to deny tenure. 6. According to the "Application" of 1999, "the university should strive to recruit and appoint Catholics as professors so that, to the extent possible, those committed to the witness of the faith will constitute a majority of the faculty" (Part 2, Art. 4, 4a). Notice again the more rigorous norm, but with the qualifier "to the extent possible" and with the problem of how to measure commitment. On the one hand, the qualifier provides an opening--it does not have to be enforced; on the other hand, the requirement for com-mitment leaves open the possibility of arbitrary interpretation. 7. According to Ex corde ecclesiae, "all Catholic teachers are to be faithful to, and all other teachers are to respect, Catholic doc-trine and morals in their research and teaching" (II, Art. 4, no. 3). Again, many say this is a violation of academic freedom and that it will frighten nonconformist Catholic instructors and non- Catholic instructors who have unorthodox moral viewpoints from joining Catholic faculties: 8. Ex corde ecclesiae grants that "freedom in research and teach-ing" is proper to scholarly activity, but adds: "so long as the rights Review for Religious of the individual and of the community are preserved within the confines of the truth and the common good" (II, Art. 2, no. 5). For secular scholars, freedom is restricted only by the rules of one's discipline; for the church, freedom is conditioned by the truth as made known in the revelation of God in the Scriptures, tradition, and the teaching of the magisterium (II, Art. 2, no. 5; Art. 4, no. 3). 9. Probably the most contentious issue of all concerns the requirement that the local bishop authorize every theologian. Both documents declare that all those teach-ing "theological disciplines" must receive a "mandate" or "mandaturn''8 from him. This was the sticking point already in Ex corde ecclesiae, where canon 812 is cited in a foot-note (II, Art. 4, no. 3 and endnote 50). "Application" states even more strongly, in the body of the document and not simply in a footnote, canon 812: "Catholics who teach the theological disciplines are required to have a mandatum granted by competent ecclesiastical authority" (Part 2, Art. 4, 4e). The "mandaturn" is explained as "a tech-nical term referring to the juridical expression of the ecclesial rela-tionship of communion that exists between the church and the Catholic teacher of a theological discipline in the Catholic uni-versity" ("Application," endnote 41). The mandaturn acknowledges that the Catholic professor "is a teacher within the full communion of the Catholic Church" (Part 2, Art. 4, 4e, 1). It "recognizes the professor's commitment and responsibility to teach authentic Catholic doctrine and to refrain from putting forth as Catholic teaching anything contrary to the church's magisterium" (Part 2, Art. 4, 4e, 3). The declaration that the professor will teach in com-munion with the church is to "be expressed by the profession of faith and oath of fide!ity or in any other reasonable manner accept-able to the one issuing the rnandaturn" (endnote 42). The manda-turn "should be given in writing" and "remains in effect wherever and as long as the professor teaches unless and until withdrawn by competent ecclesiastical authority" (Part 2, Art. 4, 4e, c and b). Nothing is stated about what would happen if a theologian does not ask for or receive the rnandaturn or loses it. The justification for the The most contentious issue of all concerns the requirement that the local bishop authorize every theologian. September-October 2000 Tripole * Ex Corde Ecclesiae mandatum "is grounded in the right and responsibility of bishops to safeguard the faithful teaching of Catholic doctrine to the peo-ple of God and to assure the authentic presentation of the church's magisterium" (endnote 41). Conclusion Why are Ex corde ecdesiae and its "Application to the United States" causing so much excitement in higher-education circles? Ex corde ecclesiae originally received favorable press from Catholic educators because it restored to consciousness the importance of maintaining Catholic identity in our schools. Whereas in the 1970s and 1980s we were affirming that our schools were in the Catholic (and Jesuit) tradition, implying a certain aloofness from that tradition, now, in this new era that stresses individuality and uniqueness,, stressing our Catholic (and Jesuit) identity is in vogue. The problem comes with dictating what precisely constitutes this identity. The Vatican wants a juridical relationship that demands that this identity include communion with the Catholic Church and fidelity to its teachings. Opponents want this identity to come from a more attenuated relationship to the church, allow-ing for great latitude, great freedom, of thought and action. This is nothing more than an expression of the deep division con-stantly being expressed in Catholicism today between those who understand their Catholic identity to include conformity to the teachings of the church and those who do not. And so it is pre-cisely the juridical aspect of "Application" that is at the center of the controversy. Thus, since Vatican II, Catholic higher education has taken two roads: (1) toward greater integration into the life of the church and conformity to the church's teachings and (2) toward greater separation from dcclesiastical control, with Catholic iden-tity determined by individual criteria and self-regulation. Ultimately what is at issue here is the role of the church in mod-ern Catholic life. Notes ~ See Philip Gleason, Contending with Modernity: Catholic Higher Education in the Twentieth Century (New York: Oxford University Press, 1995), esp. pp. 12-17 and 318-322. Gleason summarizes Modernism this way: "Modernism has been described as a many-faceted effort to accom-modate Catholic teaching to the 'collective change in mentality' taking Review for Religious place in the late nineteenth century, and it raised new questions about many aspects of Catholic doctrine. Among the more serious were ques-tions dealing with 'the nature of revelation, of biblical inspiration, and of religious knowledge, the personality of Christ and his true role in the origins of the church and of its sacraments, the nature and function of the living tradition on the Catholic system and the limits of dogmatic evo-lution, the authority of the church's magisterium and the real import of the concept of orthodoxy, [and] the value of the classical apologetic" (Gleason, p. 12, brackets in the original; citing Roger Aubert et al., The Church in a Secularized Society, Vol. 5 of The Christian Centuries [New York: Paulist Press, 1978], p. 191). 2 See Alice Gallin OSU, ed., American Catholic Higher Education: Essential Documents, 1967-1990 (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1992), p. 2; and James L. Heft SM, "Have Catholic Colleges Reached an Impasse?" Chronicle of Higher Education 46, no. 2 (12 November 1999): B6-B7. 3Monika K. Hellwig, "The American Catholic University and the Apostolic Constitution Ex Corde Ecclesiae," Current Issues in Catholic Higher Education 20, no. 1 (Fall 1999): 21-40 at 21. 4John Paul II, "Ex corde ecclesiae: The Apostolic Constitution on Catholic Universities," Origins 20, no. 17 (4 October 1990): 265-276; from CNS's marginal background data, 267-272 at 268. 5 David J. O'Brien, "The Land O'Lakes Statement," Boston College Magazine 58, no. 1 (Winter 1998): 38-45 at 39. 6Oral conversation in spring 1999 with Rev. Paul C. Reinert SJ, then (1967) president of Saint Louis University, who was at the meeting. 7 "Land O'Lakes Statement: The Nature of the Contemporary Catholic University," Gallin, pp. 7-12 at 7. 8 "Application" uses the Latin "mandatum." Post-Vatican II Statements on Catholic Higher Education 1967: Land O'Lakes, Wisconsin: North American Regional Meeting of the International Federation of Catholic Universities (IFCU). Its doc-ument, "The Nature of the Contemporary Catholic University," asserts "institutional autonomy" and "academic freedom" as essential to Catholic universities. 1968: Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of Congo: Eighth Triennial Congress of IFCU. Its document is called "The Catholic University in the Modern World." 1969: Rome: International Congress of Delegates of Catholic Universities. Its document, "The Catholic University and the Aggiornamento," names four essential characteristics of a Catholic university. 1972: Rome: 2nd International Congress of the Sacred Congregation September-October 2000 Tri~ole ¯ Ex Gorde Eccle~iae for Catholic Education (SCCE) and IFCU. Its document is called "The Catholic University in the Modern World." 1973: Rome: Plenary Assembly of the SCCE. Letter from Cardinal Gabriel Garrone, prefect of SCCE, directing improvements of the 1972 doc-ument. 1979: Vatican: Sapientia Christiana, apostolic constitution for "pontifi-cal" institutions. 1983: Rome: Code of Canon Law (1983), canons 807-814 regarding uni-versities. Canon 812: Catholic theologians required to have "mandate" from local ecclesiastical authority. 1985: Rome: SCCE. Its document is called "Draft Schema of a Pontifical Document on Catholic Universities." 1990: Vatican: Ex Corde Ecclesiae: Apostolic Constitution on Catholic Universities. In Origins 20, no. 17 (4 October 1990). 1993: Washington: National Conference of Catholic Bishops (NCCB). Its document is the first draft of "Ex Corde Ecclesiae: An Application to the United States." In Origins 23, no. 27 (16 December 1993). 1996: Washington: NCCB. Second and "final" draft passed 224-6 and was sent to Rome. In Origins 26, no. 24 (28 November 1996). 1997: Rome: SCCE rejects this "first" draft; requires juridical ordinances; subcommittee is formed to draft a new document. 1998: Washington: NCCB. Third draft is discussed but not voted on. In Origins 28, no. 25 (3 .December 1998). 1999: Washington: NCCB. Its document, the fourth draft of the sub-committee's "Application," requiring a mandatum, passed 223-31-I, was sent to Rome and accepted by Rome with a few minor changes. See Origins 29, no. 25 (2 December 1999) and Origins 30, no. 5 (15 June 2000). Two authors who appeared in our last issue went to God before it went to press: Sister Bernadine Pieper CHM, on 20 February 2000, one day before her eighty-second birthday, and Father Hilary Ottensmeyer OSB, on 17 May 2000, at seventy-six years of age. Let us remember them and their communities in prayer. Review for Religious STAN PARMISANO Theology Lived in Faith Back in 1966 the Dominican School in Berkeley, California, was inaugurated, the first Catholic seminary within the Graduate Theological Union (GTU). The Dominican master gen-eral, Aniceto Fernfindez, was present for the grand occasion. He outlined for the public at large the projected purpose of the school? It was to be a community of study, research, and teaching in dialogue with the other faiths of the union and the university. It was to be ecumenical in the widest sense, embracing not only other Christian churches but other religions and no religion as well. The master general, like some before and many since, saw California, the State of California, as the most fitting place for ecumenical study. It was the Western world, but looking to the East. He said that California "is the society of the future. Here the changes which all society eventually will face are already tak-ing place. And here the problems which the new social situation will create for eve/Tone are already manifest." It was, he said, for the religious community to enter into dialogue with all who were confronting these problems and trying to solve them. This projected endeavor was not to be a matter of mind only but of life. It was to be a theology out of life experience and toward life's betterment. So the master general emphasized the contem-plative foundation of the school. He did not in his formal address spell out for the general public precisely what he meant by "the contemplative," but to Dominicans listening to a Dominican his Stan Parmisano OP wrote for us in the early 1970s and in the late 1980s. This article of his was a recent commencement address. His address is Saint Albert's Priory; 5890 Birch Court; Oakland, California 94618. September-October 2000 Parmisano ¯ Theology Lived in Faith meaning was clear enough: the school was to be grounded not just on contemplative prayer, prayer that quietly listens for the Lord, but on the contemplative life, living with and for the Lord. Later, in his visitation report to the Western Dominicans as a whole, he made this quite explicit.2 His directive reads: "A new priorial house is to be established at Berkeley in which there is to be the perfect Dominican life of regular [religious] observance." With this in place, "the fathers assigned there are to be ded-icated to higher and ecumenical studies." Emphasis upon the con-templative religious life of which study was both part and product was no innovation on the part of Father Fernfindez. It was the tradition of the Dominican order from its beginnings, perhaps more in the breach than in full observance, but it was the ideal that Dominicans were to be held to. They were not only to think their theology but live it, and live it antecedently to their think-ing it. It was out of a life centered upon God that thought about God and the things of God was to emerge. That was some thirty years ago. Today's theologians also come to thought out of their life experience, but often it is experience of the human dimension that has priority. God is there, but off to the side or hidden away under the human, or inhuman, situation-- as is frequently the fact in our contemporary world. It is by being immersed in a given time and place, by living the life of particu-lar assemblages of people, that we come to know them and their special problems and so can begin to theologize about them. The more traditional theology--that which, true to its name, has God (theos) as its object and center--also demands experience of the human, though more of the divine; but, if the human, the divine within it, which makes it truly human and keeps it so. It observes the priority of the Scriptures: "In the beginning God." and "In the beginning was the Word."; the priority of the decalogue and the gospel's summation of it (God first, self and neighbor second); the priority in prayer as Jesus taught it (first, recognition of the Father and his holiness, then the speaking of our needs); the pri-ority set by Jesus for his own life (he was the man for others, but first among others was his Father). Though Jesus was marvelously human, he was much more wonderfully divine. People, yes, but as beloved of God and in their deepest heart yearning for God! The human situation, yes, but as measured by the divine! Creation, yes again; but as issuing from, held by, and continually moving back to its Creator! Living with Re~i~ for Religio~s God as he is in himself, and searching him out as he is immanent in creation, we come to share his view of the world, what he wants and expects of us, not just what we and our world expect and want for ourselves. So the master general in 1966, so the whole of Dominican tradition! The school has changed through the thirty years of its exis-tence. It is not now just a school by and for Dominicans. It has embraced other traditions, whether lay or religious, and looks to profit from the variety of its membership as well as contribute to those involved with it. But what must at all costs be maintained is its initial fundamental principle that thought about God--theol-ogy- must bud from a life rooted in God, whether that life takes on a specifically Dominican character or another of a wide variety of possible lifestyles. Other great religions besides Christianity are in agreement. For Buddha, anyone who is content to know the ultimate Reality only theoretically, or merely by hearsay, is like a herdsman of others' cows. For Mohammed, the person who thinks about Allah without having really experienced him is just an ass bearing a load of books. These words resonate with the begin-nings of Christian thinking: it was only because the Apostles and early disciples lived with Christ, ate, drank, and spoke with him, listened to him, touched and were touched by him, that they were able to secure the proper theological foundation of the church. Basic to this life with God and consequent study of God and the things of God is, of course,faith, faith in the sense of creed, the body of revealed truths that become the first principles of Christian theology, but also faith as the God-given virtue or power within us by which we actually accept these revelations and see in and beyond them to God himself. Living with God presupposes that we lovingly know the God we are living with. Due objection may be raised to my use of the terms "see" and "know" in relation to the divine and to faith, for God is the hid-den one, the unknown and unknowable, and faith is traditionally opposed to seeing. "We walk by faith, not by sight," says St. Paul (2 Co 5:7); and in Hebrews 11:I we find faith defined as "the con-viction [or evidence] of things unseen." If one should object that, as Jesus himself said (Jn 20:29), the Apostle Thomas believed because he had seen ("You believe, Thomas, because you have seen"), Aquinas, in good Christian tradition, glosses that what Thomas "saw" was not the divinity of Christ, but only his human-ity. Seeing this, he was then able to believe in Christ's divinity September-October 2000 Parmisano ¯ Theology Lived in Faith (Summa Theologiae, 2a-2ae, 1, 4 ad I). Eastern religions are just as emphatic concerning the unknowability of the divine: "The ignorant," the Third Upanishad declares, "think that Brahman [God] is known, but the wise know him to be beyond knowledge.''3 A whole body of wisdom old and young suggests, however, that things are not quite so negative. The text from the Upanishad just quoted is preceded by this: "One truly knows Brahman who knows him as beyond knowledge." And it is followed by: "Through knowledge of Brahman comes power. Through knowledge of Brahman comes victory over death." Apparently Brahman can be known at the same time he is not known. There is similar ambi-guity in St. Paul. For him, faith is of the unseen, yet he can also say regarding our experience of God: "We see now darkly, as in a mirror" (1 Co 13:12). We see "darkly," but we do see. Aquinas, like St. Paul here, though firm as to our inability to know or see God in this life, concedes some slight knowledge of God to be possible, even for the ungraced rational mind, and, in question after question in Part 1 of his Summa Theologiae, he lavishly and beautifully demonstrates his point. He also places the virtue of faith primarily in the intellect, the knowing faculty. Faith, for him, though of the unknown and unseen, is an intel-ligent act (ST 2a-2ae, 4, 2). For St. John of the Cross, God is the Nada, Nothing, the Night, but a far cry from that opaque night and nothingness prayed to by one of Ernest Hemingway's faith-less souls: "Our Nada who art in Nada, Nada be thy Nada . " St. John's night and nothingness is rather luminous and fully alive, "a night," he says, "which guided me, more surely than the light of noonday, / to the place where he (well I knew who!) was awaiting me." "Well I knew who!" Knowledge of the one he did not know! The ambiguity may be resolved when we consider that God is darkness not to the total human understanding, but only to one level of it, that is, to the mind as we, in Western, and now in Eastern tradition infected by the West, generally and narrowly regard it: rational consciousness, the discursive self-directive mind. But there are other levels, just as present to us and perhaps more continuously operative. "O the mind, mind has mountains," wrote Gerard Manley Hopkins, overwhelmed at the sight of them. And Freud and Jung with their myriad disciples spent lifetimes explor-ing and categorizing them into conscious, unconscious, subcon-scious, superconscious mind. The great religions of the world have Review for Religious long since known of them, as Aldous Huxley suggests in his sum-mation of the second of our tenets held in common by them: "Human beings are capable not merely of knowing aboz~t the Divine Ground by inference; they can also realize its existence by a direct intuition, superior to discursive reasoning. This immediate knowl-edge unites the knower with that which is known.''4 Much of both sacred and profane literature speaks of these alternative modes of knowing. There is the Atman of Hindu literature, the Self with a capital S, which is identified with Brahman, the transcendent God, now inter-nalized: when one knows, one is conscious of oneself as knowing, but within oneself and out of sight it is Brahman himself as Atman who is the knower. The Tenth Upanishad says: "Unseen, but the seer; unheard, but the hearer; unthinkable, but the thinker; unknown, but the knower--there is no seer but he, there is no hearer but he. there is no knower but he. He, the Self, is the Inner Ruler, the Immortal."s This seems not much different, really, from the Catholic Christian conception of grace, which is the very life of God become our own, such that God's knowing becomes ours, his loving becomes ours--God liv-ing and knowing and loving in, with, and through us, making no sense to those who think only in terms of conscious thought and of Christianity as a matter of mere morality or of a distant love (God up there, I down here), but making the best of sense to those listening to Christ himself as he prays "that all may be one as you, Father, are in me, and I in you. I pray that they may be [one] in us ¯. that your love for me may live in them, and I may live in them" (Jn 17:20-21, 26). The operative word~ here are "one" and "in," which struck St. Paul so forcefully, leading to his preaching of the Mystical Body, and which led g~eat theologians like Augustine and Aquinas and many Christian mystics to see God as closer to us than we to ourselves. Out of this source of knowing--God's in mine, mine in God's--comes knowledge of the Unknowable. Blaise Pascal, who was much enamored of the conscious, dis-cursive mind and in fact was one of the world's great mathemati-cians, finally realized--through an experience of what he took to be God--a higher dimension of knowing and gave it classical Living with God presupposes that we lovingly know the God we are living with. September-October 2000 Parmisano * Theology Lived in Faith expression: "The heart has reasons that reason does not know." John Keats in one of his best poems sings of another level of "hear-ing" besides the sensual and the rational: "Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard / Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; / Not to the sensual ear, but, more endeared, / Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone." T.S. Eliot takes up the same thought and deepens and expands it. He speaks of "music heard so deeply that it is not heard at all but you are the music while the music lasts." The frustrated child psychologist in Peter Shaffer's Equus, after dabbling in religion with purely rational conscious knowing, in the end cries for another kind of knowledge: "I need more des-perately than my children need me a way of seeing in the dark." And on and on. The virtue of faith is, in Christian tradition, this kind of non-rational, nondiscursive, unconscious knowing. It is this graced ele-ment of true vision that not only begins our theologizing, but is meant to run all through it, to guide and direct it, and at the end of the process to be itself expanded and deepened. Theology is not a castle built upon air, not a rational structure erected on fig-ments of blind faith that a defensive apologetics thinks it has bol-stered effectively from without. Faith is not a blind act, it is seeing. And so theology is intellective from top to bottom, a seeing or understanding all the way. Doubt and questioning will be there, even apparent rejection of my faith, but these may be only on the level of my conscious mind, leaving my deeper, inexpressible vision steady and intact. This all-pervasiveness of faith in theology has its counterpart in fine works of art, and may be better understood by considering them. If we limit our examples to the art of literature, we may cite the great Dante Alighieri, a man of prodigious faith and high consciousness, an ardent lover of rational, deliberative thought, though with a poetic instinct that could move beyond the rationally intelligible to sight, vision (fantasia) of something more. What makes his masterwork, the Divine Comedy, a great poem? Some critics have seen in it high poetic moments, but have denied its poetic character as a whole. They found too much that is unspon-taneous, deliberative, and therefore "unpoetic" about it: an over-all schema minutely worked out with mathematical precision, detailed scholastic argumentation, seemingly pointless disquisi-tions in an archaic science, crude and crass descriptions, and mat-ter- of-fact excursions into the politics of the day. Dante, some Review for Religious have suggested, would have been a better poet had he been less a philosopher. But such criticisms have been found wanting. There is something that runs all through that long poem, giving life and beauty to each of its parts, some of which in themselves may be mere prose, but in Dante's broad context are poetry. We can sort out the various elements: the story, the detailed and balanced schema, the theme and characters, the dialogue, the philosophy and theology that it incorporates and expresses, the imagery, the language, the music. But the poetry here is none of the above by itself or collectively. Rather it is the unconscious, unformu-latable vision that brought all these ele-ments into being, drew them all together in a wondrous unity, and remains within the poem seducing the listener into it. And within this overall vision the philosophy, the rational dis-course, rather than detracting from the poem, enhances it, giving it depth and breadth. Dante turns out to be a better poet precisely because he is much of a philosopher besides. So, too, in theology and preaching, all sorts of things are thought and said, but, if all is as it should be, each element springs out of and terminates in this dynamic underground river of under-standing, of faith. The conscious elements are there, but only to help the conscious mind grasp something of unconscious faith and deepen and broaden our experience of it. T.S. Eliot says: "We had the experience [faith] but missed the meaning, / And approach to the meaning [theology] restores the experience / In a different form, beyond any meaning / We can assign to happiness." It is the same for life as a whole. What was it, for instance, that held that remarkable little theologian St~ Th4r~se of Lisieux so tenaciously to God, to one she knew to be God and loved as such? It was not stubbornness or fanaticism or mere habit. Her writ-ings, the testimony of those who lived with her, and all the hard and minute ecclesiastical scrutiny of her life argue to the contrary. Anyone who reads her, especially her last letters and conversa-tions, must know it was some kind of vision that held her every moment of her life--but not a vision, finally, of conscious human perception or reflection. Conscious thought seemed, rather, to get in the way in those last days, and she experienced darkness as The virtue of faith is, in Christian tradition, this kind of nonrational, nondiscursive, unconscious knowing. Septentber-October 2000 Parmisano ¯ Theology Lived in Faith she tried to think about and pray to God, experiencing temptations against her faith. But under the darkness, penetrating through it to the light, was vision properly so designated, like the ability that eyes and rational intelligence have; though she herself scarcely knew with her conscious mind that it was there. It is life lived in and through this vision of faith that must per-meate and illuminate all study and creativity with respect to the divine. If this life is not there, we end up with a distortion of God and world. But, if it is, we can hopefully come to know God with God's own knowledge while experiencing as our own something of his perception of the world and of his compassion and redeem-ing activity for it. Notes i Father Fernfindez's address at the inaugural banquet at the Claremont Hotel, Berkeley, is printed in Season (Winter 1966): 197- 202. The address together with the foundation of the school is briefly dis-cussed in my history, Mission West: The Western Dominican Province, 18Y0-1966 (Oakland, California, 1997), pp. 409-418. 2 The visitation report is in the Western Dominican Archives, Xl:110(A). ¯ ¯ 3 As in The Upanishads: Breath of the Eternal, trans. Swami Prabhavananda and Frederick Manchester (New York: New American Library, 1960), p. 31. 4 Aldous Huxley's introduction to The Song of God: Bhagavad-Gita, trans. Swami Prabhavananda and Christopher Isherwood (New York: New American Library, 1955), p. 13. s The Upanishads, p. 96. Monks' Chant The rhythm of the chant, like quiet waves upon the sea, rocks my soul to peace. Maxine Inkel SL Review for Religious MATTHEW EGGEMEIER Generation X and Religious Life: A Personal View Generation Xers are an elusive and diverse genera-tion. It is a difficult task to pinpoint representative characteristics of a generation that spans twenty years. As a whole, Generation X embodies a myriad of char-acteristics, some of these quite different and some even diametrically opposed. As a member of this so-called Generation X and as one who is giving reli-gious life serious thought, I want to offer some reflections on Generation X literature and what reli-gious life looks like to me and at least some other members of my generation. Generation X is the cohort of those who were born between 1961 and 1981. The X stands for demogra-phers' inability to typify this generation by any single trend or belief. Demographers characterize Xers' lives as unstable, fragmented, secularized, and uncommit-ted. In general, Xers lack a solid formation in the church's teachings and often lack any strong sense of Catholic identity, an identity that was more present and important to preceding generations. Some researchers claim that Xers are the first generation to grow up in a post-Christian America, a situation affect-religious identity Matthew T. Eggemeier is a senior majoring in religious studies at the University of Dayton. His address is 4428 Parklawn Drive; Kettering, Ohio 45440. September-October 2000 Eggemeier ¯ Generation X and Religious Life ing the sociology and the psychology of Xers, particularly with respect to their attitudes toward religion. When attempting to describe Xers, some writers err, I believe, by absolutizing certain characteristics while ignoring others. Sometimes I have read that individuals within my gener-ation are leaving the church in droves. At other times I have read that Xers have great reverence for the church and the pope. I believe that the truth lies somewhere in the middle of these con-trary positions. Lilly Endowment recently published some findings about Generation X Catholics. In the study the authors state that, on the whole, Xer Catholics neither reject the institutional church nor are right of center with respect to it. Moreover, the authors say that Xers are far from "monolithic" and that any attempt to lump together their behaviors inevitably leads to an inaccurate generalization. These findings resonate with my own limited experience of my generation. I think it important that I briefly introduce myself and give the reader a betteridea of who I am. I am a twenty-two-year-old senior at the University of Dayton double-majoring in reli-gious studies and psychology. I was brought up in an upper-middle-class family in a suburb just outside of Dayton. I have two older brothers, one of whom is giving serious thought to entering a monastery. My mother is a sixth-grade teacher. My father is a professor of psychology who considered entering an active order out of high school. They have deeply held religious convictions that they lovingly imparted to their children. I have found support from both my parents and my brothers when I have expressed interest in religious life. In some respects I feel that my upbringing has been atypical in relation to many other Xers. Many have had life experiences that differ from mine, and I have observed a number of trends among them: secularization, isolation, instability, and postpone-ment of commitment. As I describe these trends, I will present what I think religious orders might do in response to them. While I do not presume to speak for all of my generation, I do know that I speak for some of us. Although the focus of this article per-tains to religious life as lived in an active order, some of the ideas may be useful to all religious looking for possible vocations. First and foremost, we Xers have grown up in a secularized culture, a culture that avoids outward expression of religious con- Review for Religious victions, a social climate in which religion has been removed from everyday life. Religion might govern one's personal rela-tionship with God, but it rarely affects one's entire lifestyle. Often I sense that others in my own peer group feel an uneasiness when religion or God is brought up as a topic of conversation. One's sex life is more readily discussed than one's religious beliefs. On the other hand, for those of us Xers who have deep religious con-victions and feel drawn to the church, outward expression of this conviction is an integral but muted aspect of our experience. We do not want to keep our religious beliefs hidden within us as though they were something we are embarrassed about or ashamed of. We want to share and express the deep joy and love that we have found in religion, but have a hard time doing so, given the nature of our secularized culture. I consider it essential, therefore, that religious trying to attract Xers not water down their commitment or disappear in secular culture. Forms of outward religious expres-sion can be attractive to Xers who see this as a witness to the sacred in the midst of a desacralized culture. Xers are known for their great spiritual hunger.1 In part, this hunger derives from living in a desacralized and secularized world. When this deep hunger for religious meaning has not been satisfied within the religious practice of families, many of us have looked outside of the traditional familial practices to come into contact with the transcendent meaning that we crave. Xers often come from broken homes and fragmented family lives that have not provided us with a stable sense of community and mean-ing. When we see, then, a community whose focus is the Ultimate, we see a unique and attractive lifestyle. The stability of solid community life, the focus of which is Christ, can be a refreshing change from the transient and fragmented lifestyles that have been the experience of many Xers. When speaking about the possibility of a vocation with one Of my friends who was brought up in a divorced family, I was told that, for her, one of the most attractive features of religious life is the stability of community life and its constant search for meaning. Just like many other Xers, her upbringing lacked consistent and stable familial relationships--and the meaning that one derives from such relationships. Xers are known for their great spiritual hunger. September-October 2000 Eggemeier ¯ Generation X and Religious Life Religious life can offer an Xer an insight into the meaning of life and death, but, more importantly, it offers the opportunity to live out this insight through the everyday structures and sup-ports of religious life. Religion offers meaning in abundance, but religious life is special in providing everyday community practices that foster spiritual growth in ways that are difficult to find on one's own. Many of my friends desire to incorporate God more deeply into their daily lives. It is a struggle, though, to follow through with this desire, given the hustle and bustle of every-day life and the relatively little support we receive in this regard from our peers. In other words, we understand that Christ should be the central meaning of life, but have trouble trans-lating this reality into a daily practice. Religious life offers Xers a lifestyle that is already centered on Christ and a disci-plined life that revolves around him and his work. As I see it, the main purpose of religious life is to cultivate a life lived in Christ and for others. Another reason that Xers have for looking into religious life is our craving for a strong community life. We have grown up in a society that has become increasingly isolated and individual-ized as a result of the growing affluence and the expanding tech-nologies. We live in an environment in which we can be entertained for hours by television, movies, and the Internet, pursuits which require no interpersonal contact. One of the most commonly found features of Generation X is its sense of isolation and its yearning for stable companionship and community. Contemporary families have become self-sufficient and isolated. They seldom have a strong sense of community support, which was once prevalent. Xers have to look elsewhere to find or rebuild the support system of faith and community that has been absent in their own families. We Xers are drawn wherever we feel wel-come and find friendship. In a society that is increasingly hostile towards ~he notion of community and continues to promote indi-vidualism, we desire friendships and a sense of connectedness. Religious orders with strong community life and ritualized com-munity practices and prayer are quite attractive to us because this lifestyle cannot be found in the secular world. We have trou-ble finding within our peer group a support community for our faith development. A religious order that has a strong community life focused on supporting one another in faith development, holiness, and service of God is a refreshing change. Review for Religious When I first began discerning several years ago, I lived with a religious community for one week, basically living their lifestyle. The entire day seemed to support what was most important to me--to be aware of God's presence, do his will, and to serve him through prayer and action. For me, and I pi-esume for many other Xers, the community life that religious life offers is an attractive quality, offering companionship and the opportunity for growth in prayer, service, and holiness; but we do not want a community just to comfort us and give us a sense of security. We want to be stretched and challenged to serve God and others with the com-munity life serving as a support that allows us to reach beyond ourselves in the service of God through prayer and works. Another characteristic of Xers is postponement of com-mitment. 2 For a generation that has seen promises broken again and again, commitment is a very serious matter, and so we hes-itate a lot. An average Xer has been close to large numbers of parental divorces and seen countless images of broken com-mitments via television and other electronic media portrayed as acceptable ways of living. Because we have seeri the fiche nature of modern lifestyles, we want something that will endure. We are determined not to make the same mistakes as the pre-ceding generations. Another reason for postponement of commitment with Xers is that we have in front of us a rich array of opportunities that, for the most part, were unavailable to earlier generations. The age for entering marriage, making a career choice, and choosing a religious vocation has gradually risen in a society that offers such a wide variety of possible lifestyles. Previous generations, I am told, saw the commitment to religious life as a noble choice and legitimate path to holiness, one that many-made directly out of high school. Today this choice is seen as countercultural. What is more, we have learned that there are many paths to holiness. When choosing the religious lifestyle, previous generations often found support from their friends and parents. Today, in most instances, this countercultural decision is supported neither by friends nor parents. Just recently I read an article in which a mother of a semi-narian documented the mixed signals she received when she told friends and acquaintances of her son's decision to become a priest. The reactions varied from bewilderment as to why he would want to do such a thing to outright opposition to his decision. Septenlber- October 2000 Eggemeier ¯ Generation X and Religious Life One person asked her if she thought that her son would stay. The mother was upset by this question. She found herself think-ing that, at the wedding of her friend's daughter, she herself would likely not ask her friend if she thought her daughter's mar-riage would last. Another parent told her that they had talked their son out of wanting to become a priest when he had dis-cussed it. Unfortunately, I think these viewpoints are indicative of what many Catholics think of a young man considering reli-gious life or the priesthood. Supporting this anecdotal evidence is a 1997 CARA survey which showed that 3 in 10 youths had considered a vocation, but only 2 in 10 of the parents supported their child's interest) As a consequence of our l~ack of cultural and parental support, we Generation Xers might typically take much longer to realize that this is our true calling. We would definitely benefit from having people close to us encouraging us in our consideration of enter-ing religious life. Another form of support would be vocation groups where several of us interested in religious life meet with one another, socialize, and discuss issues relevant to our dis-cernment. Two conclusions can be drawn from these observations for religious communities trying to attract new vocations. First, since as a generation we receive so little support from our friends and parents when considering religious life, it is very important that religious communities develop friendships with us that nurture growth in faith and commitment to God. Here I want to review some findings of a CARA survey on the role of invitation into the priesthood. New research has shown that the most important factor in young people's choosing a vocation is a personal invi-tation from a religious to join.4 A statement quoted in the arti-cle has the number of invitations gradually going down in recent years. Bishop Paul Loverde explains that "during the sixties the percentage of diocesan priests who actively encouraged boys to enter the seminary dropped from 64 percent to 33 percent and, for religious order priests, from 56 percent to 27 percent, and these figures have not changed over the last three decades." In the CARA survey, only 18 percent of youths active in their parish life had been personally invited to consider the priest-hood. Clearly, an integral component of attracting Xers to reli-gious life has substantially decreased. This does not mean that religious should haphazardly invite every young person they run Review for Religious into, but, if you invite us and we show interest, keep in contact and support us. An invitation is in itself not enough. Also, I sug-gest that religious make it clear that they are not just trying to recruit us into religious life, but rather want to help us discern what God truly wants of us, whether it be religious or married or single life. Invitation and support may help many of us to make a coun-tercultural decision more easily. The key here is friendship. As a young man interested in religion, I have often been approached by religious trying to recruit me into becoming a priest. It is discouraging to think that their interest may not be in me as a person, but instead in me as a possible vocation. This is not to say that religious should not actively recruit individuals. Many, like myself, would not consider reli-gious life if it were not for an invi-tation from a religious. There is, however, a distinct difference between inviting and supporting on the one hand and just outright recruiting on the other. A true rapport, indeed a real friendship, with one religious is more valu-able in discernment than one hundred religious asking me if I am interested in their order. A case in point: a friend of mine was recruited by a priest who had met him on retreat. They met for lunch several times after the retreat. During one meeting the priest asked him if he was going to join his particular order. Mind you, my friend had never mentioned that he was even interested in this order. When my fried said that he was not interested at this time in his life, the priest became indignant and lectured him on doing God's will rather than his own. After that meeting, the priest never con-tacted him again. Needless to say, this is not a good approach. The priest saw my friend as a number, a possible recruit, and that is all. Worse yet, he tried to manipulate my friend through pressure and guilt. My friend sensed this pressure from the begin-ning. When the priest's intentions became apparent, he was not surprised; but he was certainly disappointed. Second, as I have already said, I belimie that joining religious " life has become a radical countercultural decision. I have sensed Invitation and support may help many of us to make a counterculturaI decision more easily. Septentber-October 2000 Eggemeier * Generation X and Reli~ous Life this in my own discernment. Countless times old friends and acquaintances have asked me in a negative tone, "Are you becom-ing a priest?" or said, "Why would you become a priest--you could get married!" Religious life has become manifestly coun-tercultural. Choosing religious life has become a radical choice, and so, to attract new vocations, religious need to present them-selves as people who have benefited immensely from their voca-tion and have found peace, mission, love, and a passion for the gospel and for God through their decision. Since this is a countercultural decision, religious orders should accentuate the things they might offer us that we cannot easily acquire as laypersons. I often hear from people discerning a religious vocation that they do not see what it gives them that married life does not: "I could do the same things and have the same type of life consecrated to God as a married person." If it is true that married people can live like religious, why should anyone enter religious life? In light of this, I think orders should bring out the qualities that differentiate them from the married life. In my opinion, some qualities that religious life offers that directly oppose our current cultural trends of greed, power, and promiscuity are the vows of poverty, obedience, and chastity. We are looking for and attracted to these countercultural answers to the problems of modern society, in which there seems to be so lit-tle deep hfippiness. We see the emptiness of promiscuity and hoarding money and want to take a radical stance against these things and devote our lives to something else. Another difference between a religious commitment and that of married life is the uniqueness of the call to live a radical lifestyle consecrated to God alone. I do not know how to artic-ulate this, and I hesitate to say it. But I see something special and profound in an individual taking the stance that God is so central to his or her life that he or she is willing to sacrifice mar-riage in order to live for God in this unique manner. I think that married life and religious life are unique calls with different strengths and weaknesses. I feel that often religious have not stressed the uniqueness of their call because doing so might seem to lessen the call to marriage. Both are calls from God to live a holy life. Yet there is something very striking about religious life--few people planning to get married are ever asked why they would want to get married! In sum, Xers are not going to make Review for Religious a radical countercultural decision unless they see a radical lifestyle being lived out, one that has benefits that married life does not. Finally, for Xers the experiential is essential. In general, we do not believe in something unless we can experience it. Often the Catholic Church can be seen as suppressing the experiential side in favor of the cerebral, and for Xers this is neither satisfying nor believable. To attract Xers, religious orders should present a spirituality that is visible and palpable in everyday life. Religious orders might benefit from an emphasis on daily communal wor-ship and a radical commitment to expressing the experiential side of their practices to Xers. In doing this, religious orders can show Xers that Catholic worship and spirituality are vibrantly lived. Extended community-living experiences for Xers can also be a benefit, because these allow Xers to get a sense of the commu-nities' spiritual practice. Again, l do not presume to speak for my whole generation. I hope, however, that I have described some salient characteris-tics of my generation. We are looking for transcendent mean-ing, community, solid commitments, stability, experience, and service--all of which I feel religious life has to offer. The best way, of course, to attract new vocations has always been and always will be contact with religious who have found joy, community, commitment, and God in their religious life. This, coupled with religious actively encouraging young people to con-sider the religious lifestyle, could have a profound effect on a generation that is starved for things that religious life has and wishes to share. Notes ' Albert Dilanni SM, "Religious Vocations: New Signs of the Times," Review for Religious 52, no. 5 (September-October 1993): 745-763. 2 j. Weber, "Searching for a Vocation X-Style," Horizon: Journal of the National Religious Vocati6n Conference 22 (1997): 9-14. 3 See Ann Carey, "The Harvest Is Great, but the Workers Ain't Invited," Our Sunday Visitor, 19 October 1997. 4 Carey, "Harvest." September-October 2000 J. SHEILA GALLIGAN Bride of Christ and Ecclesial Identity I~her recent article "The Need for Self-Criticism: Affirmative omments," Elizabeth McDonough marshals an unwelcome yet necessary diagnosis of religious life. She asserts that "critical self-appraisal has been neither prevalent, nor popular among American women religious since Vatican II." Such forthright com-ments compel our attention. Made uncomfortable by critical assess-ments of the prevailing paths of renewal, contemporary women religious, she suggests, manage somehow to forget or deny the reports. Indeed, they demonstrate a bewildering, obstinate accom-modation to the rhythms of the prevailing culture. The carefully crafted analysis is pointed. It provides, in a certain sense, a pow-erful Augustinian arraignment of a currently pervasive manifesta-tion of pride: a deliberate choice to avoid and deny reality. She reminds the reader that critical evaluation (albeit accurate!) has been met with "studied unconcern or strident rejection., dis-dain., open derision." 1 The descriptives point out our penchant for self-deception. It is disconcerting to note, as McDonough does, that, while the need for public and prophetic witness is often enthusiastically acknowledged, a specific, distinctive religious witness has lessened considerably. An extensive rhetoric has emerged, but jargon has a way of irritating, and convoluted sociological or psychological expositions often obscure the theological or spiritual sense. Ironies J. Sheila Galligan IHM last wrote for us in November-December 1994. Her address remains Immaculata College; Immaculata, Pennsylvania 19345. Review for Religious are noticeable. There is lack of clarity about identity and mission; there are negative results from an exaggerated egalitarianism; reli-gious in their ministries have a general invisibility; and there is a dearth of new members. These things can affect us, excite us, and cause us to enter into serious dialogue about envisioning the future. But where, McDonough thoughtfully inquires, are the specific decisions and actions that will initiate and support a "corrective change of course" ? 2 I believe that a possible and necessary first step in critical reflection and corrective decision making depends upon the rather neglected perspective of ecclesial identity. Corrective effort must take place on two levels: the level of theological insight and the level of "heartsight"; that is, insight must become embodied in effective symbol. This article suggests that we seek a renewed understanding of the church as the bride of Christ and explore a renewed use of spousal imagery in the service of a "corrective change of course." I will offer a rationale in support of a readily identifiable religious habit, specifically distinguished by a veil, as a form of public, prophetic witness and a "sign of consecration, poverty, and mem-bership in a particular religious family" (vc §25).3 Since the spe-cific issue of the religious habit is intimately connected with bridal consecration, I will also discuss the significance of clothing in gen-eral and ecclesial directives specifically. I suggest that a religious woman's key ecclesial identity is that of bride of Christ and that the key sign of this is the veil. The church! How does one evoke the meaning of its mystery, the meaning of something so elusive and paradoxical and yet so beautiful and evocative? Acknowledging that an image supports and illustrates some aspect of truth, the church describes itself in metaphor. The Second Vatican Council drew upon the rich trea-sury of images in Sacred Scripture. According to Lumen gentium, the church is a sheepfold, a tract of land, a choice vineyard. The church belongs to Christ as people, body, and bride (LG §6). Vatican II, with its interpersonal understanding of the church as the people of God, signaled a turning point in its history, casting a warm light on the image of the church as bride (see LG §9). Biblical Foundations From the biblical perspective, bridal and marriage imagery is September-October 2000 Galligan ¯ Bride of Christ incredibly rich, yet in recent decades this perspective has been prac-tically lost.4 Beginning as a whisper in the history of Israel, this image rises later in prophetic cries, to be echoed eventually in the Gospels and in apostolic teaching. This image of Christ as bride-groom of the church was prepared for by the prophets, especially Hosea and Isaiah, and announced by John the Baptist (see Jn 3:29). Jesus referred to himself as the "bridegroom" (Mk 2:19). The Catechism of the Catholic Church reinforces the theme and reminds us that the Scriptures speak of the whole church, and of each of the faithful members of his body, as a bride "betrothed" to Christ (§796). Significantly, the last image of the church in the Bible is bridal. The Apocalypse is replete with marriage symbolism: "The marriage of the Lamb has come" (19:7; see Ep 5:25-27). The new Jerusalem is "a bride adorned for her husband" (Rv 21:2-3), a city whose meaning is revealed in bridal language: "the bride, the wife of the Lamb" (21:9-22:5). The final use of bridal imagery is in Revelation 22:17: "The Spirit and the Bride say, 'Come.'" The wife, on the day of her wedding, is recognized by her bridal gown. In that attire she is the bride. The gown is the "righ-teous deeds or works." All these texts mirror the church's rela-tionship to .Jesus. The language is about reciprocal love, love for him who is "the first love" (Rv 2:4). The Vision of John Paul II John Paul II understands the church in such personalist terms. He consistently uses the distinctive language of relationship, trini-tarian communion, covenant fidelity. The church is a mysterious living reality that becomes fruitful by its bridal relationship to Christ, who loved the church and gave himself up to mak~ her holy. Being overwhelmed by and responding to love--that is at the heart of the mystery. It is a description of a people called to identify passionately, deeply, with the mission of Jesus. While often ignored in current scholarship, the image of the church as bride of Christ is clearly declared in Scripture and is reaffirmed by the magisterium through the ages. Because it gets to the heart of the church's nature, this image can help (beyond any nostalgia or romanticism) in our discussion of the ecclesial identity of conse-crated women religious. Vatican II provided consecrated life with a splendid theologi-cal framework for understanding its place in the church (LG ~6).5 Review for Religious Recent ecclesial documents also offer a theological vision of the consecrated life within the mystery of the church. The symbolic and transformative role of the consecrated religious is at the heart of the church. The 1994 synod of bishops identified the common reality unifying consecrated persons: "the call to total self-giving to God; love for Christ the teacher, Lord, and bridegroom of the church, who is intimately followed and served above everything; and the decision to live according to the Spirit.''6 Even a superficial reading of Vita consecrata reveals John Paul'S appreciation of the gift of consecrated life as a special manifestation of the "striving of the whole church as bride toward union with her one Spouse" (VC §3). But, more than simply reflecting on the revelatory dimensions of the image in terms of the whole church, the pope provides a marvelous insight. He speaks of conse-crated persons expressing "their spiritual fruitfulness by becoming receptive to the word, in order to contribute to the growth of a new humanity" (vc §34). This perspective undoubtedly flows from his deep conviction that the world desperately needs to reappropri-ate the reality of spousal communion. The focus is sharpened by these words: "Tl~e church can in no way renounce the conse-crated life, for it eloquently expresses her inmost nature as 'bride'" (vc §105). This is not a matter merely of pious sentiment or lit-erary style, but of theology. The point is central for religious because it is a question of identity. References to this theme pervade this papal exhortation. John Paul says (vC §19), "The consecrated life becomes a particularly profo~and expression of the church as the bride who, prompted by the Spirit to imitate her spouse, stands before him 'in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish'" (Ep 5:27). This finds a special emphasis in an extended section titled "The Living Image of the Church as Bride." The pope writes: "In the consecrated life particular impor-tance attaches to the spousal meaning, which recalls the church's The image of the church as bride of Christ is clearly declared in Scripture and is reaffirmed by the magisterium through the ages. September-October 2000 Galligan ¯ Bride of Christ duty to be completely and exclusively devoted to her Spouse, from whom she receives every good thing. This spousal dimension, which is part of all consecrated life, has a particular meaning for women, who find therein their feminine identity and, as it were, discover the special genius of their relationship with the Lord" (//C §34).7 Eloquence of the Liturgy The liturgical "Rite of Religious Profession for Women," a public prayer, incorporates spousal language,s Candidates to be professed respond to the specific question "My dear sisters (daugh-ters), what do you ask of God and of his holy church?" by saying, "We ask for perseverance in following Christ our bridegroom in this religious community all the days of our lives" (§59). Presentation of the veil is accompanied by the following exhorta-tion: "Receive this veil, which proclaims that you belong entirely to Christ the Lord and are dedicated to the service of the church" (§34). The solemn blessing or consecration of the professed is replete with references to the church as bride: "Father in heaven, ¯. you make the human family your bride . When your bride, deceived by the evil one, broke faith with you, . . . the world's Redeemer . . . formed the church into his bride, loving it with love so great that he gave himself up for it" (§72). This richly sug-gestive theme is emphasized and expanded in a beautiful section: "Father, in your loving wisdom you have singled out many of your daughters to be disciples espoused to Christ and to receive the honor of his love. Holy church shines with their rich variety, a bride adorned with jewels . Strengthened by the vows of their consecration, may they be always one with you in loving fidelity to Christ, their only bridegroom" (§72). After the blessing the newly professed come to the celebrant, who gives the ring to each: "Receive this ring, for you are betrothed to the eternal king; keep faith with your bridegroom so that you may come to the wedding feast of eternal joy" (§73). Indeed, St. Mnbrose, writing in the 4th century, crystallizes the idea in five words: Virgo eft quae Deo cubit (a virgin is a woman who has married God). The rite and all its parts are instantly, theologically expressive of the mystery and event being celebrated. What the church understands about reli-gious consecration--its unique public, ecclesial, nuptial, eschato-logical identity and character--is precisely what the rite of Review for Religious profession says and celebrates. Although persons participate in the rite only once, it continues to define and guide them all their life. The mystical, ascetical, and apostolic dimensions somehow coalesce in the dynamic of this profoundly relational image of "disciples espoused to Christ. their only bridegroom" (§72). A Call That Began with Baptism Two presuppositions provide a framework for further dis-cussion. First, inserting the theology of consecrated life into the sacramental dimensions of the church, Vatican I! highlights its relationship with baptismal consecration and its demands.9 Some Christians are invited to deepen that consecration, to manifest that baptismal light with a particular intensity. In the response to the call of consecrated life, this discipleship becomes a public profession to live the gospel, a prophet-ically public witness, an all-encom-passing commitment. Attempts to accommodate, to make religious more like lay people, are detrimental to the church. When the distinctiveness of this vocation becomes blurred, role clarity suffers. Second, the radical nature and meaning of religious life needs to be proclaimed and clarified, not only in descriptive ecclesial documents such as Perfectae caritatis and Vita consecrata, but also in the personal conviction of those committed to it and in the shining witness of their day-to-day lives. Living in community and practicing the vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience challenge the assumptions of the culture. The human goods of marriage, possessions, and self-determination are put into a fresh perspective. VCithout an appreciation for the mystery--a love for the way in which religious consecration takes hold of the very depths of one's being--the fruitfulness of the vocation will be compromised. The radical nature of religious life is threatened by a growing secular-ization, a cultural assimilation. By consecration women religious are established in a new relationship to Jesus Christ, a specifically nuptial one. The veil publicly proclaims the existence of this nup-tial bond, the external sign of an internal reality The radical nature of religious life is threatened by a growing secularization, a cultural assimilation. September-October 2000 Galligan ¯ Bride of Christ Norms of the Church Commenting on canon 669, the one canon in the 1983 Code that directly concerns the religious habit, McDonough carefully delineates its spiritual and ascetical functions: "The habit is con-sistently understood to be indicative of a way of life with both transcendent and immanent consequences. Its purpose is to point ~o the value of something beyond this material world while it simultaneously communicates something of import about the very real circumstance of this material world."9 It heralds a commit-ment to witness to the permanent things in a culture numbed by materialism, sensualism, and contempt for the sac~ed. Many religious communities, with goodwill and intent, do indeed follow the canon's directive and wear a form of habit, but the current practice often omits the veil or makes it optional. Many women religious wear various kinds of secular clothing, from skirts and blouses and hand-me-downs to highly fashionable suits and dresses, complete with jewelry and other accessories. Several neg-ative consequences result. The great diversity of charisms among communities of religious is now lumped into one bland group of "generic church workers." The distinctive concrete "sign" of con-secration is diminished if not lost. A habit that lacks a veil is a diluted public witness, an ambiguous sign. Without the veil, how do people recognize us as religious? Even more, how do people recognize us as members of a unique group of Franciscans or Dominicans or Sisters of Charity? We become "The Anonymous: The Sisters without a Sign!" The veil is important for giving witness to the ecclesial nature of religious identity, to its "bride of Christ" symbolism. Recall the words of Vita consecrata: Consecrated life "eloquendy expresses" the church's nature as "bride" (see §105). Today public witness is iron-ically diluted precisely when the visual, the highly visible, is needed. The veil communicates a sense of dynamic purpose as well as a sense of unity and esprit de corps. Silent Language That Sparks Imagination Some cultural background about the nature of clothing may help here. Throughout history, clothing has served many purposes. According to the insights of those who specialize in these matters, "clothing serves as a means of communication. To the person who is knowledgeable about a particular culture, clothing is a sort of Review for Religious silent language." t0 Rebecca Cunningham's Magic Garment offers a striking insight. A special garment "helps concentrate the powers of imagination, expression, emotion, and movement into the cre-ation and projection of a character to an audience."tt This asser-tion that "clothing is a sort of silent language" is born of experience. The idea is expressed in the 1994 synod's working paper: "Many ask that women and men religious give a silent proclamation of their consecration through wearing the habit of their institute" (§86). The symbolism of the veil has somehow been embedded: it persistently suggests "bride." It bespeaks, quite specifically, a carefully constructed world of meanings and com-mitments. The veil, connoting exclusive love, intimacy, and unre-served self-gift, has been recognized for centuries as a sign of betrothal to Christ (in imitation of Roman marriage customs). It was an integral part of the liturgical ceremony of consecration as early as the 4th century,t2 In fact, for centuries there were no rit-ual words of profession; one "took the habit" or "put on the veil." t3 The concept, the "habit of being," of women religious as "bride of Christ" is manifested in two ways: the interior geogra-phy of the heart shaped by the practice of the evangelical coun-sels and the public symbol of the veil proclaiming spousal union with Christ. Vita consecrata says: "Their lifestyle too must clearly show the ideal which they profess, and thus present itself as a living sign of God and as an eloquent, albeit often silent, procla-mation of the gospel" (vC §25). Perhaps this is what many of the faithful are struggling to articulate when they see a religious with a veil and say: "I'm so glad to see a religious in a habit. Thank you" or "There is a real sister." Here, I believe, the practical and pastoral import of the veil comes to the fore. People are not mak-ing a judgment about the moral state or holiness of the religious, but rather recognizing her ecclesial identity and role, affirming the public witness of her vocation. Just what, precisely, prompts such remarks? When do these comments occur? At the sight of a simply dressed woman wearing a little cross or a medal or some kind of pin? No. It is precisely the veil which evokes the response. Indeed, it is through this visible symbol that identity is affirmed and meaning maintained. Recall, too, that in Jesus' parable of the Good Samaritan (Lk 10:25-37) the man who needs care represents "everyman" precisely because he lacks the two human means of specific identification. He is unconscious and so cannot speak. He is stripped of the clothing Septewtber-October 2000 Galligan * Bride of Christ that communicates something about identity. Have contemporary religious in some way become speechless and stripped? A Culture in Need of a Visible Sign Vita consecrata is direct and straightforward: "The church must always seek to make her presence visible in everyday life, espe-cially in contemporary culture, which is often very secularized and yet sensitive to the language of signs. In this regard the church has a right to expect a significant contribution from consecrated persons, called as they are in every situation to bear clear witness that they belong to Christ" (VC §25). Distinctive attire is a way to respond to the church's challenge. The veil serves as a gracious irritant, an explicitly prophetic sign. Although Western moder-nity is inhospitable to the transcendent, the full habit visibly and powerfully conveys an eschatological message "to the people of God here and now, even--or perhaps especially--to many who might otherwise have neither a ready understanding of nor an easy access to the spiritual import of eternity." ~ In contemporary sec-ularized culture, where the external signs of sacred realities tend to vanish, people must be able to recognize the consecrated woman religious, this bride of Christ representing the church. Attire is an unequivocal sign of dedication and identity, a "way that their con-secration is recognizable" (vC §25). It assumes a public represen-tational function.Is Whose She Is The primary meaning of the word habitus is a condition, a state, a pattern of behavior, a quality of nature or character. The nature of the consecrated religious is essentially bridal. In keeping with her ecclesial and personal identity, the bride of Christ provides visible witness most specifically and completely by wearing a veil. This external practice announces and reaffirms her identity, not only who she is, but Whose she is and what she aspires to be. It acknowledges a passionate love, ever deepening into conscious communion, which gradually becomes the ruling "habit of life." Consecrated religious, in both their personal and their corporate lives, are meant to be identifiable. In a society increasingly needing an appreciation of the tran-scendent, in our secularized post-Christian culture, consecrated Review for Religious religious are called to speak and act in evangelical, bold, and imag-inative ways. Where do we stand? Will we manifest a dash of dar-ing, a truly radical "habit of being," through the practice of the vows and through the external sign of religious consecration? Cogent questions perennially confront those on the road of reli-gious consecrktion. These are such cogent questions. In the conclusion to Vita consecrata, John Paul does not flinch from proclaiming: "You have not only a glorious history to remem-ber and to recount, but also a great history still to be accomplished!" (vc § 110). In short, can a dedicated corps of consecrated religious women rise out of the current mass of "generic" church workers, out of the paralysis of an ambiguous identity, to provide joyful, courageous witness to the Bridegroom and to his bride, the church? Will the "habit of our being" affirm a full and faithful witness? For, indeed, this "corrective measure"--an internal un.derstanding of our personal identity as bride of Christ and its outward sign, the veil--will clearly reveal that we are caught up in a love affair, passionately proclaiming our love for God and his people. Notes ~ Elizabeth McDonough OP, "The Need for Self-Criticism," Review for Religious 58, no. 3 (May-June 1999): 251 and 256. See also David J. Nygren CM and Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ, "Affiliative Decline and Role Clarity," in their Future of Religious Orders in the United States (Westport, Conn.: Praeger, 1993), pp. 248-249. Or see their "Future of Religious Orders in the United States," Origins 22, no. 15 (24 September 1992): 257-272; available also in Review for Religious 52, no. I (January- February 1993): 6-55. 2 McDonough, "Need," p. 259. 3John Paul II, apostolic exhortation Vita consecrata, 1996. Henceforth this will be referred to in the text as 4 Further insights and expanded development of this may be found in Geoffrey Preston OP, Faces of the Church (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997). Chapter 8 explores the "Bride of Christ." Raymond Orlund Jr.'s book Whoredom: God's Unfaithful Wife in Biblical Theology (Eerdmans, 1996) explores the theme of spiritual adultery, delving into scripture pas-sages that describe human violations of God's covenant with Israel in marital and sexual terms. See also Gilberte Baril, The Feminine Face of the People of God: Biblical Symbols of the Church as Bride and Mother (Slough, U.K.: St. Paul, 1991; also Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1992). 5 "This constitutes a special consecration, which is deeply rooted in their baptismal consecration and is a fuller expression of it" (Perfectae caritatis, §5). See Lumen gentium, §4, and all of chap. 5, "The Call of the L49 i Septentber-October 2000 Galligan ¯ Bride of Christ Whole Church to Holiness." 6 Vatican Synod Secretariat, "The Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World: Working Paper for October 1994 World Synod of Bishops," Origins 24, no. 7 (30 June 1994): 97-138. Christ is described as "bridegroom" in several other passages: §18, §48, §111. 7 John Paul II's new orientation is perhaps best summed up in the priority which the Catechism of the Catholic Church (§773) accords the Marian dimension over the Petrine dimension in the church, in the order of holiness. Keenly conscious of the unique role of the Blessed Virgin Mary in the history of redemption, the pope presents a link with the New Testament passage that portrays Mary with the Apostles (Ac 1:13-14). "We can see here a vivid image of the church as bride, fully attentive to her bridegroom and ready to accept his gift . In Mary the aspect of spousal receptivity is particularly clear; it is under this aspect that the church, through her perfect virginal life, brings divine life to fruition within herself" (vc §34). Consecrated women religious are "called in a very special way to be signs of God's tender love toward the human race and to be special witnesses to the mystery of the church, virgin, bride, and mother" (VC §57). The image is biblically, theologically, and pastorally appropriate. 8 International Commission on English in the Liturgy, "Rite of Religious Profession during Mass," in The Rites of the Catholic Church, Vol. 2, approved by NCCB and confirmed by the Apostolic See (Collegeville: A Pueblo Book, Liturgical Press, 1991), pp. 247-285. The sectitn numbers given in parentheses in this paragraph refer to this rite on these pages. 9 Elizabeth McDonough OP, "Habit and Habitus: Current Legislation," Review for Religious 56, no. 6 (November-December 1997): 652. ,0 Phyllis G. Tortora and Keith Eubank, Survey of Historic Costumes (New York: Fairchild Publications, 1994), p. 3. n Rebecca Cunningham, The Magic Garment: Principles of Costume Design (New York: Longman, 1989), p. 1. ~2 McDonough, "Habit," p. 654. ~3 According to the Rule of St. Benedict, profession was to be made both orally and in writing, but not necessarily for validity. Benedict knew nothing of the juridical concept of such "validity." It is worthwhile to note the role of the habit in the tradition. Since the Council of Trent, reli-gious profession in order to be valid must be expressed orally. At the time of Gratian, however, profession made tacitly was taken to be true profession. Some clear fact or deed was taken to be religious profession, usually to assume the monastic habit. Gratian says nothing of the neces-sity of profession. Instead he speaks of entry into religion in a precise con-crete way. He uses the terms "monasticum habitum sume~e" (C17, q2, c3) and "habitum religionis sumere" (C20, ql, cl). The veil (cowl for men) was an integral part of the liturgical ceremony of consecration as early as Review for Religious the 4th century. In fact, for centuries there were no ritual "words," no vows formally articulated. Historically, ecclesial recognition, the sign of betrothal to Christ, was usually expressed by someone's "taking the veil." 14 This notion is emerging in new literature that speaks of religious garb. See Harry J. Byrne, "Ecclesiastical Garb," America 180, no. 21 (19-26 June 1999): 22. The author notes that the U.S. bishops in their November 1998 meeting decreed that "a black suit and the Roman col-lar are the appropriate attire for priests, especially in the exercise of their ministry." The Directory for the Life and Ministry of Priests (1994) is straight-forward: "In a secularized and materialistic society, where the external signs of sacred and supernatural realities tend to disappear, it is partic-ularly important that the community be able to recognize the priest, man of God and dispenser of his mysteries, by his attire., which is an unequivocal sign of his dedication and his identity as a public minister" (§66). The directory also states that, "outside of entirely exceptional cases, a cleric's failure to use this proper ecclesiastical attire could man-ifest a weak sense of his identity as one consecrated to God." 15 The French theologian Louis Mari Chauvet (Symbol and Sacrament, Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1995) says that symbol as a language of recognition is "the foundation of the identity of the group and the indi-vidual" (p. 5) and that symbol "becomes the agent for recognition and identification between subjects." Chauvet affirms silent communication too: the act of symbolization carries out the "essential vocation of lan-guage" (p. 130). The veil is both self-referential and proclamatory. Thus the consecrated woman religious should be identifiable primarily through personal holiness, but also by a manner of dressing that makes visible to all the faithful, indeed to all people, her specific role in the church. The attire serves as a mediating reality in the construction of authentic iden-tity. It demands personal and communal "habits of being" so that its meaning does not erode and so lose its compelling force. Peter and the Servant Girl The servant girl asked of him, "Aren't you he who was with Jesus?" Curiously she looked in his eyes, did not accuse, for who has not felt fear? And who was she? No true believer, but one who serves, and serving knows not all our masters are deserving. She looked again at him who was afraid and left to seek the one whom all betrayed. June A. Kramer September-October 2000 a way of living MARIE BEHA Work in Such a Way "Work in such a way as not to extinguish the spirit of prayer and holy devotion to which everything else should be subservient." That is what St. Francis of Assisi and St. Clare wrote in their respective Rules for the Friars and the Poor Sisters (RC1 7,2). Nice, I thought, but what does it mean? More important, how do I do it? For some reason I found those words repeating themselves over and over again in my heart as I went about my work that day and the next and the next. I always "suspect" the action of the Spirit when some-thing like this happens, so I began to hold this challenge against the reality of my everyday experience. After all, I had lots of experience working, doing all kinds of things. In fact, activity had been the focus of most of my efforts to hasten the coming of God's king-dom. I knew something of its risks, as well as its chal-lenges and the immediacy of its motivation. But somehow this was different. It soon became clear, that I needed to emphasize four words: "working in such a way"; the focus was less on what I did and more on how I did it. That was lesson number one. Kinds of work, hours devoted to it, or even levels of accomplishment--con-cerns which had dominated most of my previous reflec- Marie Beha osc writes once again from the Monastery of St. Clare; 1916 North Pleasantburg Drive; Greenville, South Carolina 29609. Review for Religious tions--were too task oriented. Whatever Francis and Clare were talking about, it was something more. I passed on to "the spirit of prayer." I began reflecting on familiar experiences of bringing work into prayer, of how my work had often provided the raw material for some of my most urgent prayers of petition. I .easily recalled times when I had spent whole periods of formal prayer begging for the needs of those with whom I worked. On other occasions most of my prayer was preoccupied with fervent requests for personal divine assis-tance. When I felt especially unable to accomplish what I really needed to do, then I got down to serious praying! "God, come to my assistance!" But it was also true that sometimes, in fact way too often, work spilled over into my prayer time, threatening the possibility of any prayer at all. Sometimes a task that I had decided to com-plete chiseled away at my time for prayer; I began late or at least without allowing myself a moment to just be and transition into a more reflective stance. I was still back "there" at whatever I had been doing, even when my body had arrived "here." At other times I deliberately shortened my time for personal prayer because "there is so much to do." Granted that there were circumstances when shortened prayer time had to be the only loving responses to the urgent need of others, but honesty compelled me to admit that this was not usually the case. Then it dawned on me that shortened prayer time was one of the ways my spirit of prayer was being extinguished by work. I began giving myself permission to let my periods of formal prayer be as much a "full-time" occupation as any other of my concerns. It was a start, but by no means an easy discipline. I soon discovered how proficient I had become in rationalizing the urgency of my work load. Too often I was more driven by self-imposed standards than by charity or the reality of the situation. It was my need to accomplish something that compelled me tofin-ish whatever I had set out to do. Achievement motivated me to surpass last week's goals; that was why I worked overtime. Working provided the self-satisfaction of knowing I had done something, maybe even done it well. Others were grateful. At least I was pleased with myself. To my embarrassment I discovered how often I named this a "good day" because"I got so much done." Or, conversely, I complained in frustration, "I didn't get a single thing done today." I could not even recall the last time I had fallen September-October 2000 Beba ¯ Work in Such a Wa~ asleep telling myself how happy I was that I had been able to pray well or work prayerfully that day. With this realization came others. (The Spirit was beginning to work overtime.) Maintaining a spirit of prayer even during times of formal prayer was more than just hard work. Exposing myself to the Spirit of Truth was risky; disciplining and quieting my busy mind was harder still. I would rather have done almost anything else. Too often I did; such escapism surely ran counter to a spirit of prayer. But there was still more. I returned to the original challenge of "working in such a way as not to extinguish . " Francis and Clare seemed to focus less on what happened at times of prayer and more on manner of working. That was realistic. After all, most of us spend more time working or doing other things than praying. How could I work more prayerfully? I tried to recall some things I had been taught many years before about "being recol-lected." After searching around in my mental attic, I remembered something about saying ejaculations while working and the incred-ible example of a certain Jesuit priest who said literally thousands of ejaculations even while ministering in the trenches during World War I. In a period of early fervor, I had tried the practice myself, but had never gotten the hang of it at all. In fact, I felt myself breaking out into a rash at the very thought; such split-level exis-tence was not for me! And I doubted very much that it was what Clare or Francis was suggesting. Once more I returned to my original question: What does it mean to work in the spirit of prayer? I continued to keep my focus not on my prayer but on my work, and the beginnings of an answer slowly emerged: I worked prayerfully when I worked lovingly. Of course. The "spirit of prayer" had to be the work of the Holy Spirit, "the Spirit praying in us with unutterable groaning," espe-cially "when we do not know how to pray as we ought" (Rm 8:26). And that Holy Spirit was God's love "dwelling within" (Rm 8:9). What extinguished my prayer was also what extinguished my love. Examined experience proved the truth of these .reflections. When I failed to "love" my work, rushed through it, did it care-lessly, pushed it aside as soon as I decently could, both work and the spirit of prayer suffered. When my work was less gift given to others and more self-serving gratification, any possibility of prayer-ful work was extinguished. When the bitterness of critical think-ing, harsh judgments, impatient murmuring, ran counter to Review for Religious whatever I was doing, I was neither loving nor praying. And in most instances I was so caught up in my own limited concerns that I was not even working very effectively. But, when I worked lovingly, a quiet reverence, a peaceful pres-ence, transformed any and all of my labors. I was careful without being so care-filled that anxiety replaced trust. I could give myself to whatever most needed doing if I kept my focus in the present and not turned toward the need to accomplish as much as possible. Even when the list of necessary tasks got longer and longer, I found that I was more at peace if I set pri-orities rather than driving myself to get it all done now. My charity was more needed than the accom-plishment of what I had predetermined to do. Being focused on whatever I was doing began to make a critical difference. I became more aware of just how I was going about my labor, rather than concentrating solely on the task itself. As awareness opened up space within, I found myself faced with choices. Somewhere between being lazy and being a . workaholic lay the balance of saving grace. Self-gift rather than self-satisfaction seemed to hold one key. When my focus was more on God at work in whatever needed doing, rather than on what I wanted to do, I could relax. I was

Issue 62.4 of the Review for Religious, 2003. ; Church Dii~ection D evo tion a 1 Life Religious Life Pers 3ectives QUARTERLY 62.4 2003 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ V~Zeb 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 Mount St. Mary's Seminary; 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. ©2003 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 th~ personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. MI 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 crehtion of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. fo r 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 Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ QUARTERLY 62.4 2003 contents 340 church direction Alphonsus's Perspective in the Post-Vatican II Church Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR highlights the God-given perspective of St. Alphonsus Liguori and suggests that such a perspective can be pgeserved even though the content of the Christian message has new dimensions after Vatican II. 354 Belief, Augustine, and the New Religiosity Paul Graham OSA enters us into a reflection on the shape of our faith, as opposed to its content, in contemporary Western society. devotional life 363 Rediscovering the Rosary Dennis J. Billy CSSR reviews the pope's apostolic letter on the rosary as a venerable form of prayer that will help Christians "to contemplate with Mary the ffice of Christ." 37O Mirroring Jesus: The Luminous Mysteries and Religious Life Mary Joseph Schultz SCC reflects on the luminous mysteries of the rosary not only as a new graced opportunity to deepen our faith by bringing the public life of Jesus into the rosary, but also as a special gift to vowed religious to reflect on essential elements of consecrated life. Review for Religious 379 reOi ious perspectives Why Newly Professed Religious Leave Peter Cantwell OFM reflects not only on what younger people are disillusioned by in religious life but also on what current members might provide as helps in a mutual effort to live the charism. 402 Ignatian Insights into Evangelical Poverty Donald C. Maldari SJ explores the richness and relevance of evangelical poverty and its relationship to theological hope in the spirituality of St. Ignatius Loyola. departments 338 Prisms 423 Canonical Counsel: Papal Enclosure 431 Book Reviews 440 Indexes L33-7-- 62.4 2003 Te naturalized British writer Hilaire Belloc (1870-1953) came to the United States for the first time with hope of winning a young lady's hand. He had met her and her mother earlier, when they were visiting England. Sometime during his unexpectedly 16ng and difficult land trip west to California to propose to her, Belloc was stimulated to write the following light verse: Kings live in palaces, pigs in sties, youth in expectation. Youth is wise. Despite Belloc's idealistic inspiration, we might hesitate to agree that such youthful expectation is wise. When our hopes, our expectations, are not realized, we can become disillusioned or bitter and angry or, perhaps, if we have a certain psychological makeup, resilient. As it happened, Belloc's marriage proposal was rejected by the young lady's mother, but he returned to England with his expectations intact. A year or so later, he took another trip to the United States with the same purpose in view, and this time he was successful. He married the young lady. Undoubtedly he felt that he had made his own the truth he had expressed in his verse. Our Catholic faith seems to agree with youth, even finding that living in expectation is a divine way of living. Jesus, after all, taught us to Review for Religious pray daily "Thy kingdom come." Certain times of the year, like Advent, and holy days like All Saints, All Souls, and Christmas highlight for us the virtue of hope or expectation. God has such divine expectations of each one of us that there is no limit to how often he forgives our wrongdoing. Likewise there are no restrictions on the graces of God's intimacy with his sons and daughters in Christ. Scripture would have us believe that God expects to delight in us. Expectation, then, considered in a Christian light, is not just for the young, but it is the graced quality of those who are called to be young in heart by their Christian baptism. Living in expectation, we look forward to growing in holiness. We have expectations about ourselves as saints, just as God does. Living in expectation, we look for the ways that God shines forth in the world he created and leads us towards God's reign. Entering into St. Paul's heart, we have expectations that God keeps working at the century-by-century fulfillment of his creation in Christ. We as members of Christ's Body expect to play our own part, with God, in bringing about this fullness of redemption. Of course, we all have our natural fear of dying, especially faced with its unknown pain and circumstances. But we as Christians can at the same time look towards death with expectation, welcoming our further identity with Christ in receiving death as one more gift of the Father so that we can rejoice in resurrected life forever. As we say in our Creed, we expect the res-urrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. Yes, to live in expectation is a profound Christian calling. Such living is rooted, not in youthfulness, but in God, and is sustained by God. We the baptized are meant to live in expectation. We devoutly pray for God's presence gracing us in this way. Then we are youthfully wise. David L. Fleming SJ 62.4 2003 church NIHAL ABEYASINGHA Alphonsus's Perspective in. the Post-Vatican I! Church direction Redemptorists were for a considerable period of their history called "hellfire preachers." And so indeed they were. At the time of Alphonsus Liguori, the founder of the Redemptorists, the preaching was accompanied by "audiovisuals" that would be considered macabre today--the exhibition of a skull, an imaginary dialogue with a damned soul, and thepreachers going around the town in the dark crying out "Save your soul!" Obviously, these procedures cannot and should not be duplicated today. But, if what he did represented a God-given perspective, I think it would be a pity to lose the perspective even today. In this article I intend to highligh,t Alphonsus's perspective and suggest tentatively that it can be preserved even though the content--or the awareness of the content--of the Christian message has new dimensions after Vatican Council II. Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR lives at 454/9 Piachaud Gardens; Peradeniya Road; Kandy, Sri Lanka. Review for Reli~ous Background of the Ministry of Alphonsus The Council of Tren.lt (1545-1563) met to counter the effect that Luther's andI other Reformation perspectives were having on the church. The perspectives were primarily doctrinal. They had serious implications, however, for the institutional and disciplinary structure of the church. There was pblarization: Scripture alone versus Scripture and Tradition;'I faith as commitment alone (tides fiducialis) versus faith ificluding content; only God and grace versus God in Christ acting through human ministry and grace being mediate.d through the church. When the council met in 1545, the attendance was poor, some forty bishops, most of the~m Italian. They began with disagreement, but by 1546 they decided to deal simulta-neously with both doctrifial and disciplinary issues. . The shadow of thel Reformation cast a permanent shadow on the council's deliberations. The result was an emphasis on 'what the Reformers had gotten wrong by Catholic criteria, ignorin, g altogether what they got right. (In the words of G.K. Chesterton, every heresy is the revenge of a forgotten ~r_~-uth.) Among other things, Trent stressed the veneration iof the saints, devotion to Mary, the Mass as sacrifice, th~ importance of suffrages for the dead, and other matters! against the Reformers, Spin-offs of these lines of thought in Catholic culture included stress on Euchanstac ad.orataon, a deemphasls of the role of the laity, and undu~e emphasis on the role of the . ordained minister who c.onfects the Eucharist. In the Catholic trad, ition the theology that followed was highly systematized, the disciplinary structure rigid and centrahzed. But the, ology also reflected attempts to find places of accord with Luther. For example, Michel de Bay of Louvain (+1589) thought of original sin as depriving human beingi of what constitutes the human condition--another vergion of Luther's understanding of humanity's "radical corruption." Bay's position was 62.4 2003 Abeyasingba ¯ Alpbonsus's Perspective Alphonsus's ministry was "popular," directed to the masses who lacked competent pastoral care. defended by Cornelius Jansen (+1638). Even though views such as these were repudiated by the church, they had effects on requirements for receiving the sacraments. I suggest that Alphonsus used the "last things" (death, judgment, heaven, and hell), which had a major impact on Luther, as a call to conversion for those in sin. The response of conversion that he sought was oriented towards the sacraments of recon-ciliation and the Eucharist, the ecclesial communion that is based on the true faith and true sacraments. Alphonsus's ministry was "popular," directed to the masses who lacked competent pastoral care. These people were steeped in superstition and magic, and lived in fear of frightful evils such as the devil coming into their lives. That is where Alphonsus started; he addressed their emotion of fear by proclaiming the last things. Beginning his preaching of the Christian message here, he le~l individuals to the sacraments. He wanted to make it as easy as possible for sinners to confess to a priest (in contrast to the Reformers' idea of confessing directly to God). He advocated a gentle manner with those who committed sins by almost unconscious habit and with those who fell again and again into the same sin (consuetudinarii and recidivt). In his time the laxist view allowed absolution as often as penitents confessed, while the rigorist view demanded thorough amendment of life before they could receive absolution. Mphonsus proposed a middle path of sound common sense. He said that absolution should be refused to consuetudinarii and recidivi unless there were clear signs of repentance, which he listed: tears, weeping, a lessening of the number of sins, notable efforts at amendment such Review for Reli~ous as fasting or almsgiviOg, evidence of a search for new means of improvement, spontaneous confession, special motivation such as the fear of some impending disaster, confession of sins previously and culpably omitted, prior restitution, new awardness, of guilt. He advocated that absolution be deferred only when the confessor was morally certain of the penitent's wrong disposition; that is, .for deferral he needed to make a prudent probable judgment about ,tpheen'i te"n t s' fundamental lack of sorrow. He said, too, ~at absolution is not to be deferred if there is danger of more harm than good being done.1 Through reconciliation followed by the Eucharist (the emphasis more on Holy Communion than on the Mass), people were weaned ,away from sin. What was taking place is pictured on thd cover Alphonsus designed for his book Selva: The Digni~ and Duties of the Priest. The priest is hearing confession .'in front of a large crucifix. Rays from the crucified Lo,"rd stream towards the penitent. Alphonsus's pastoral r~alism saw God's action in Christ reaching penitents thro.'ugh the sacramental mediation of the church. The perspelctive is close to that of Irenaeus of Lyon (+202): "God is~ man's glory, but it is man who receives the effect of Gbd's activity, who is the recipient of all God's wisdom and power. Just as a doctor proves himself in his patients, ~o God reveals himself in men." 2 Alphonsus facilitated reconciliation with a bias in favor of penitents because of his own trust in the power of God's grace. He-k~ew that generally the habitual sinners would fear death, judgment, hell, and the loss of heaven and so would approach sacramental recon-ciliation. He knew thht fear as a motive does not last long. He knew that "~erfect love casts out fear" (1 Jn 4:18). So, to lead therfi beyond fear and enable them to remain converted, to p'ersevere, he offered the motive of love and a support structure of prayer and fellowship, namely, confraternities. 62.4 2003 Abeyasingba * Alpbonsus'sPer~ective To sustain people's effort and stir up love in them, he presented considerations that would naturally lead to love. Look how much God loved you, sending his Son in human .form; that Son died for you amid unspeakable suffering; that intense love continues in his abiding presence, especially in the Eucharist. Will you not return love for love? In such works as The Practice oft be Love of Jesus Christ, he would go further into the qualities that true love for Jesus entails. He knew, of course, the sinner's obvious objection: I am too weak to respond with any degree of intensity of love. He forestalled that objection by his teaching on prayer. Christ has said, "Ask and you shall receive." Ask God--that is prayer. Because God has said it, you will receive. Everyone and anyone can do this much. He bolstered this position by citing respected authors and by telling stories of how sinners who did not stop praying " received a final chance to repent and be saved. Even daough many of the stories would be laughed at today, in those days they made his point effectively. Parish missions were considered finished only when all had had an opportunity for confession. After the mission Alphonsus established some ongoing programs: regular mental prayer in the church and confraternities where people supported one another with fellowship, prayer, and regular instruction to stay on the path of their conversion. There is a clear overall perspective in these programs. Today one can object that in this model popular piety and liturgy merely coexist and that the former can even take precedence over the latter.3 It is likely that Alphonsus knew of Ludovico Antonio Muratori, a 17th-century writer who in Della Regolata Devozione dei Cristiani (Norms for Christian Devotion) proposed a religiosity that drew from the liturgy and the Scriptures to offset superstition and magic, and that he also knew of Benedict XIV's important initiative of permitting the use of the Review for Religious Bible in the vernacular. But Alphonsus did not bring these perspectives into his work for the pastorally most abandoned, chiefly uneducated people inclined to superstition. It would make little sense. They might give a symbolic assent to the matter presented and engage in a symbolic act of conversion, but their lives would not be much changed. Alphonsus said that the test of a good sermon is when the people leave the church striking their breast and not talking about the preacher. A New Context As the church in mid-20th-century Europe was facing something of a crisis of neglect and indifference, some new theological perspectives and initiatives in Scripture, catechesis, and liturgy were appearing. Without intend!ng to imply that Redemptorists were in the forefront of the pre-Vatican II theological scene--in fact, they were not--I venture to suggest that two Redemptorists made a significant contribution to this evolving theology. They did this by examining the existing perspectives in the light of Alphonsus's call-response perspective (fear as initial stimulus leading to love in the long term). This was obvious in the German Bernard H~iring.4 EX. Durrwell, from France, highlighted the grandeur of the resurrection in God's redemptive plan so that believers could more attractively show those who were ignoring the Christian message the way to conversion and growth.5 After all, the motto of the Redemptorist congregation is "With him is plentiful redemption." Paul Hitz CSSR, of Switzerland, even though he did not receive much international notice, contributed to catechetics, which too is a call to grow as believers. Vatican II bro,ught into focus several aspects of theology for which 'Isome theologians had been disciplined. It rediscove~'ed the paschal mystery and, with that, found a new view df the ¯church: its being sacrament, I 62.4 2003 Abeyasingha ¯ Alphonsus's Perspective the common priesthood of all Christ's faithful (and some consequences of this), and a renewed liturgy.6 Alphonsus's Perspective in a Post-Vatican II Context Can Mphonsus's perspective fit in this post-Vatican II context? I do not know whether this question has been posed in this way. It is claimed that Alphonsus's perspective is embodied in a story that is loved, remembered, and lived by Redemptorists. Without assessing that claim, perhaps articulating some contemporary dimensions may not be out of place. In his Confessions Augustine (+430) made this prayerful observation: "Since the time I first learned of You, there is nothing of You I have discovered that I have not discovered by remembering." And what he discovered in responding to the Manichees, Donatists, and Pelagians of his time has influence even in our day. Perhaps one may suggest that a hint of a Vatican II perspective was already present in Alphonsus. In his Duetto (Dialogue with the Soul) he imagines a soul meeting Christ going to his death. The soul asks: "Where ¯ are you going?" Jesus replies: "I am going to die." The soul wants to follow him. Jesus asks the soul to give him his heart and then go and live, always remembering his (Jesus') love." In practice, one emotion seems dominant in the Redemptorist recognition of, and conversion from, sin, and that is joy, thankfulness that one is forgiven. "Father, you show your almighty power chiefly in your mercy and forgiveness" (opening prayer, 26th Sunday, Ordinary Time). Put this grateful joy felt by Redemptorists into the picture of alertness for clear signs of repentance--fear as a starting point of conversion, tears, fewer sins, fasting or almsgiving, seeking new ways to improve, and so forth--and perhaps you have something that at least resonates with the perspective of the Exsultet of the Easter Vigil, stemming from well Review for Religious before Vatican II: 'iWhat good would life have been for us had Christ not come as our Redeemer? Father, how wonderful your care for us! How boundless your merciful love! To ransom a slave you gave away your Son. O happy fault, O necessary sin of Adam, which gained for us so great a Redeemer!" Does this Redemptorist picture from before Vatican II fit in with post-Vatican II theological reflection? I think it does. After being careful to identify those who are in the greatest pastoral need, we must remember a few basic principles. First, it is important to touch people where they are. Where Muratori proposed drawing popular piety from Scripture and the liturgy, Alphonsus's program was to meet people where they were and then lead them beyond it. Second, a clear distinction needs to be made between stimulating conversion in the short term (Alphonsus used fear for this) and maintaining conversion in the long term. (For the latter, Alphonsus had only one prescription: love.) Third, how does one propose love? The short answer is: as a call that evokes a response, or an offer that invites acceptance. It is important to keep God's initiative in mind, as in the picture of rays from the crucified Jesus shining on the penitent. Alphonsus's call to love focuses on Jesus' passion: "Greater love than this.no one has, than that a person lay down his life for his friends." But this emphasis should include the following: "Therefore does the Father love me, because I lay down my life that I may take it up again" On 10:17-18). Death and resurrection are inseparable. Psychologically, selfless suffering unto death is deeply evocative of response, but it is not complete by itself.7 Rather than being isolated from the resurrection, Jesus' passion should be presented as a step on the journey to fullness of life. "The glory of God is man fully alive, and the life of man is the vision of God," says Irenaeus of 62.4 2003 Ab~yasingha ¯ Alphonsus'sPerspective Lyon. Incorporation into Christ's deat[h and resurrection in baptism should be the basic paradigm for preaching about death and resurrection. For there to be resurrection, there must be passion (suffering) and death; one chooses this journey because of the hope of resurrection. "Christ has passed beyond our sight, not to abandon us, but to be our hopE. Christ is the beginning, the head of the church; where he has gone, we hope to follow" (Preface 1, Ascension). The grandeur of that goal makes the call to conversion attractive today: "With him is plentiful redemption." It is well to remember that even on Good Friday, when the liturgy focuses on the suffering and death of Christ, it is not separated from the resurrection. (The Via Lucis, Stations of the Resurrection, may be one way to maintain the link between death and resurrection.) Note, too, that the apparitions of the risen Lord involved some renunciation (of previous expectations) and often a call to mission as a condition for recognizing the "stranger" as the very Jesus whom the disciples had known. This is the version of the resurrection as call to death and call to love that needs to be worked out in popular idiom for people today. The resurrection is contingent upon the Son's having taken human flesh. If the incarnation had not taken place, no death-cum-resurrection would be possible. This mystery highlights the incarnation as an emptying (Ph 2:6-11), the rich one becoming poor for our sakes (2 Co 8:9). Jesus' life in the flesh meant sharing our condition and emotions. But, because it was not a life limited to the flesh, he was raised to life in the Spirit (Rrn 1:1-4). In the liturgy we pray, "May this sacrament [Eucharist] restrain our earthly desires and enable us to grow in love of the things of heaven" (After Communion, Tuesday, First Week of Lent). The child Jesus shared in the development that every child goes through--from the first stages, whei'e self- Review for Religious reference is the norm, to the point of total unselfishness in love ("He loved them to the end" Jn 13:1). The incarnation is the call to grow. Here one does well to keep in mind that excellent training in a particular discipline (medicine, accountancy, or whatever) does not automatically mean that one is an adult in regard to one's religious growth (the commitment based on content that Catholic faith requires). Many adults remain at the level of children (often the faith content they had at confirmation) and think that a vague "feel good / do some good" religion is growth. God's invitation is to deeper growth, an incar-national growth guided by the Spirit. The journey from the Father to this world and back to the Father is the program for all Christians. It is eriacted (as a "today") in the Eucharist. There is a continuing call to recommitment, to baptism's death and resurrection themes. The Eucharist is a third focus of Alphonsus. For him, Jesus is the prisoner in the tabernacle, awaiting, calling, and welcoming those who come to visit him. But the Jesus of the tabernacle is first the Jesus who was born, lived, died, and rose again, who celebrated that Passover with his disciples and continues to do so in the community of believers. And this is perhaps the high point of the call: to recognize that we are betrayers who are called by the one betrayed (Jesus) to share a meal with him. For this he accepts what we offer (bread and wine, products of the earth and of human hands) and returns them to us transformed (his risen body and blood, the new creation). One can add some glosses to the Eucharistic narrative to highlight this perspective: "On the night he The journey from the Father to this world and back to the Father is the program for all Christians. 62.4 2003 Abeyasingba ¯ Alpbonsus's Perspective was betrayed [by his disciples, with whom we are all complicit], Jesus took bread [that supports life---he was not seeking revenge] and gave thanks [for everything, including the betrayal, life and its support, death, because this is the prelude to resurrection and glory] and shared it with his disciples [betrayers become .companions, "bread fellows"], saying [not only in word but in deed]: 'This is my body, which is broken for you' [the principle enunciated in the Gospels: 'Unless .the grain of wheat dies' and 'Take upyour cross']. Do this in memory of me [the call addressed to all his followers, sinner and saint alike, a call to 'do this' not only in word but also in deed].''8 Finally, for continuing the journey of conversion over the long haul, Alphonsus proposed a program of prayer. He emphasized, not the amount of prayer, but fidelity to it. A short prayer every day is better than a long period of prayer occasionally. Prayer means recognizing one's limitations, acknowledging one's need for God. Beginners in mental prayer need some method, but, as they grow, they should not let the method become a hindrance to prayer. When difficulties arise, they can fall back on the method. This advice of Alphonsus remains valid and relevant in our day, but support groups are needed too. For the community as a whole, Alphonsus proposed confraternities, which were support groups. Today's psychological research has identified the roots of various problems. Lay people should be encouraged to use .their skills to help others in various difficulties, even if it means merely lending an ear to one other person. When people feel that they havebeen heard and understood, they are often able to work their way through their own problems. Such support is very much in the competence of laypersons, and those devoted to pastoral care would do well to keep encouraging them to fulfill their special role in the world. Review for Religious Charisms as Life-Giving Roots The present article indicates the need for religious institutes not to take their agendas from current theology. Theology has its place, but institutes have their own particular orientations and perspectives. It is in rediscovering and living according to their foundational perspectives that religious institutes can make their authentic contributions. These solidly rooted agendas are indeed their very reason for existence. When Cyprian (+258) became bishop of Carthage, he made it a rule to do nothing on his private opinion without the counsel (consilium) of the presbyterate and the agreement (consensus) of the people. The two Latin words are significant. As the one who presided over the presbyterate, Cyprian needed their counsel. Often it would be far more "advanced"--aware of many more theological perspectives, one could say--than the laity. But he also wanted to have the consensus of the people, a fellow feeling of where they were. I suggest that Alphonsus started with the consensus of the laity and, as preacher of repentance, led them to commit their lives in love to Jesus, supporting one another along the journey. The challenge is to be "popular," to meet people where they are, but also to lead them beyond, in terms of call and response, invitation and acceptance. There will be changes in the content and style of post-Vatican II proclamation and ways of celebrating the sacraments, but the apostolic perspectives of Alphonsus and other founders can, I am convinced, well remain unchanged. Notes ' See Raphael Gallagher, "The Fate of the Moral Manual since Saint Alphonsus," in Histo,3v and Conscience: Studies in Honour of Father Sean O'Riordan CSSR, ed. Raphael Gallagher and Brendan McConvery (Dublin: Gill and Macmillan, 1989), pp. 212-239. 2 Irenaeus, Adversus haereses, 3.20.2. 62.4 2003 Abeyasingba * Alpbonsus's Perspective 3 See Directory on Popular Piety and the Litu'rgy: Principles and Guidelines (Vatican, 9 April 2002), §41: "The 'popular missions' emerged at this time and contributed greatly to the spread of the pious exercises. Liturgy and popular piety coexist in these exercises, even if somewhat imbalanced at times. The parochial missions set out to encourage the faithful to approach the sacrament of penance and to receive Holy Communion. They regarded pious exercises as a means of inducing conversion and of assuring popular participation in an act of worship." 4 See Bernard H~iring CSSR, The Law of Christ, 3 vols. (Westminster, Maryland: Newman Press, 1961o1966), and his later work, which is more diffuse and wide-ranging, Free and Faithful in Christ, 3 vols. (New York: Century, 1979). 5 EX. Durrwell CSSR, The Resurrection (London: Sheed and Ward, 1960). 6 See Directory, §§48-49: "History shows, first of all, that the correct relationship between the Liturgy and popular piety begins to be distorted with the attenuation among the faithful of certain values. essential to the Liturgy itself. The following may be numbered among the causes giving rise to this: ¯ a weakened awareness or indeed a diminished sense of the" paschal mystery and of its centrality for the history of salvation, of which the Liturgy is an actualization. Such inevitably occurs when the piety of the faithful, unconscious of the 'hierarchy of truths,' imperceptibly turns towards other salvific mysteries in the life of Christ, of the Blessed Virgin Mary, or indeed of the angels and saints; ¯ a weakening of a sense of the universal priesthood, in virtue of which the faithful offer 'spiritual sacrifices pleasing to God, through Jesus Christ' (1 Pt 2:5, Rm 12:1), and, according to their condition, participate fully in the church's worship. This is often accompanied by the phenomenon of a Liturgy dominated by clerics who also perform the functions not reserved to them and which, in turn, causes the faithful to have recourse to pious exercises through which they feel a sense of becoming active participants; ¯ unfamiliarity with the 'language' of the Liturgy--that is, its language, signs, symbols, and ritual gestures---causing much of the meaning of the celebration to elude the faithful. This unfamiliarity can even make them feel like outsiders to the liturgical action, and so they are quick to manifest their preference for pious exercises whose 'language' is closer to their own cultural development, or Review for Religious else for private devotions more in keeping with the details and demands of their daily life. "Each of these factors, and both in certain cases, not infrequently produce imbalances in the relationship between the Liturgy and popular piety, to the former's detriment and the latter's impoverishment. These should therefore be corrected through careful and persistent catechetical and pastoral work. "Conversely, the liturgical renewal and the heightened liturgical sense of the faithful have often recontex~ualized popular piety in its relationship with the Liturgy. Such should be regarded as a positive development and in conformity with the most profound orientation of Christian piety." 7 See Sean O'Riordan, "The Human Psychology of Repentance," Studia Moralia 21 (1983): 79-102, and "The Nature and Function of Pastoral Psychology," Studia Moralia 1 (1963): 348-387. 8 Karl Rahner, "The Episcopate and the Primacy," in Karl Rahner and Joseph Ratzinger, The Episcopate and the Primacy (New York: Herder and Herder, 1961), p. 25: "Essentially the church is the historically continuing presence in the world of the incarnate Word of God. She is the historical tangibility of the salvific will of God as revealed in Christ. Therefore the church is most tangibly and intensively an 'event' where (through the words of consecration) Christ himself is present in his own congregation as the crucified and resurrected Savior, the fount of salvation; where the redemption makes itself felt in the congregation by becoming sacramentally visible; where the 'New and Eternal Testament' which he founded on the cross is most palpably and actually present in the holy remembrance of its first institution. Therefore the celebration of the Eucharist is the most intensive event of the church." I would add that the consequence is that every word in the church must be understood in connection with the memorial dimension of the Eucharist (see I Co 11:26). It is like the prism which separates light intoits constituent colors and also refocuses the different colors into a unity. 62.4 2003 PAUL GRAHAM Belief, Augustine, and the New Religiosity ~/ nd what remains when disbelief has gone?" That striking line from Philip Larkin's poem "Church Going" poses a question that is characteristic of the times we live in. The problem today is not so much disbelief or unbelief, but belief. The onus is now on those who claim they do not believe in God. According to the European Values Study for 1999/2000, 77.4 percent of the sample surveyed believe in God. Even in secular Sweden, which has the lowest number of believers in God in Western Europe, the number is 53.4 percent. Clearly, unbelievers are in the minority. The agnostics, according to this scenario, are not those who are unsure about their belief in God, but those who are not sure they disbelieve. The line from Philip La~'kin's poem cap-tures beautifully the anxiety of the unbeliever who has a nagging suspicion that perhaps there is a God after all. The present-day anxiety, the anxiety of a post-Christian society, is in the possibility that there is a God. Paul Graham OSA is provincial of the English-Scottish province of the Augustinians. His address is Provincial Office; 15 Dorville Crescent; London W6 0HH; United Kingdom. Review fbr Religious In these circumstances, those of us who through our faith have been freed from the burden of unbelief--and it is a burden--have a corresponding responsibility not to take our belief for granted. Belief is something that grows and deepens; it is not static. In the famous words of St. Augustine: "Make progress, my brothers and sis-ters, examine yourselves honestly again and again. Put yourselves to the test. Do not be content with what you are, if you want to become what you are not yet . Always add something more, keep moving forward, always make progress" (Sermon 169). An important part of reflection on faith is its social context. The shape of our belief, as opposed to its con-tent, is influenced by the world around us. If we lived in 13th-century Italy, for instance, unbe-lief would not have been a problem; even the gross sinner would be expected to believe in God. Faith was characterize~l by an intense devotion to the person of Christ in his passion and in the Eucharist. Belief had a tangible feel about it then, and peo-ple were not afraid to express it publicly. In Poland during the Communist times, faith was shaped by the need to take a firm stand against state-controlled atheism. Belief in God was caught up in nationalism: to be Polish was to be Catholic, as being Irish in Ireland was until recently. The object of faith in these differenttimes and places remains the same: God in Jesus Christ. This leaves us with the question: In contemporary Western society, what is the shape of our faith? It is now fashionable to have a "spirituality" in these 2 l st-century "postsecular" times. The problem is not so much religious belief as what to believe in. People today have become spiritually gullible. G.K. Chesterton noted perceptively that, when people stop believing in the true People today have become spiritually gullible. 62.4 2003 Graham ¯ Belief, Augustine, and the New Religiosity God, they start believing in anything. One of the charac-teristics of this new religiosity is its individualism. People now pick and choose the bits of religion they want to believe in and reject the distasteful parts. It has become a lifestyle choice: a bit of Zen here, a bit of Feng Shui there, a touch of white magic perhaps, and even some aspects of Christianity--the nice bits. This is nondemanding, non-threatening religion, a pick-and-mix spirituality. It has become fashionable to make a distinction between "religion" and "spirituality." By "religion" is meant institutional religion, the church; by "spirituality" is meant the "good" things about religion without the awkward bits like the hierarchy and the church's teach-ings. One can now have a spirituality, even if it means rejecting or sitting loose to the institutional form of the church. The problem is, once you detach spirituality from religion, it can quickly become self-seeking and inward-looking. Belonging to the church prevents that from happening. The Latin word religio implies "ties," ."obligations." We are bound to one another and to God, in the church. Jonathan Sacks, the chief rabbi of Great Britain, has an interesting observation to make here (see Credo in The Times, 24 August 2002). He challenges those who claim to have a "spirituality" but reject organized reli-gion. Spirituality, he says, marks the beginning of a search for God, leading on to religion, to belonging to a community of believers; otherwise it tends to be escapist and self-indulgent. He illustrates this by referring to Robert Putnam, the Harvard sociologist, whose recent book Bowling Alone (2000) is about the breakdown of community in the United States as a result of growing individualism. The metaphor for this breakdown is to be found in ten-pin bowling. In the 1950s bowlers belonged to leagues and clubs and went bowling together, as teams. Today those leagues are no longer so Review for Religious popular, and people prefer to go bowling on their own. Sacks therefore declares, "Spirituality is what happens to religion when it goes 'Bowling Alone.'" Britain faces a similar problem of individualism. A recent sociological study (Changing Britain, Changing Lives, (London: Institute of Education, 2003), involving three birth-cohort studies of people born in 1946, 1958, and 1970, found that in the last fifty years there has been a marked decline in social cohesiveness and awareness, evidenced in the universal decline in voting, community activity, and church activity. The political philosopher Eric Hobsbawm is quoted in this study as saying, "Prosperity and privatization broke up what poverty and collectivity in the public place welded together" (p. 9). This individualizing tendency in society as a whole, I suggest, is influencing deeply the way we believe. St. Augustine understood this very well. Father Tom Martin OSA, in Our Restless Heart: The Augustinian Tradition (London: Darton, Longman and Todd, 2003), takes up this issue: "Does Augustinian spirituality lead to a privatized spirituality? While it is clear that Augustine privileges the heart and the journey within, he would be the first to decry any reading of him that would turn the Christian life into a solitary journey. It is always a shared pilgrimage, a community of fellow believers on a journey of faith to God" (p. 47). In another passage, speaking of the need to "return to one's heart," he says: "Yet for all this talk of 'heart,' this empl~asis on interiority, its inten-tion is never meant to lead to an introverted spirituality. What is fundamentally interior to me is, for Augustine, the point where I am also closest to my brothers and sis-ters in the human family. From the heart I come to Christian faith, become a member of the church, the Body of Christ . [Augustine's] insistence upon the heart is thus not a self-serving escape from responsibil-ity into interior religion and privatized faith" (p. 43). 62.4 2003 I believe this to be one of the greatest challenges to Christian faith today, the challenge posed by the privatization of belief. I have labored this point because I believe this to be one of the greatest challenges to Christian faith today, the challenge posed by th4 .privatization of belief. As Cardinal Hume once said, "faith is always personal but never private." Augustinian spirituality is one of the greatest safeguards we have. However, because of its emphasis on interiority and the need to find God within, it can very easily be hijacked by the "privatizers" of faith. Martin makes it quite clear that such an interpretation of Augustine is a distortion of his spirituality, which is at all times ecclesial, rooted in community, rooted in the church. "To remove or isolate or separate God or self or community within the thought of Augustine," he says, "would only result in a profound distortion of his spiri-tual vision" (p. 49). So, as we struggle with belief ina society that wants to reduce everything--whether fast food or spirituality-- to individual choice, Augustine provides us with a nec-essary corrective to the "McDonaldization" of religion, as a Scottish theologian calls it (John Drane, The McDonaldization of the Church, London: Darton, Longman and Todd, 2000). Return to your hearts by all means, but not to stay there, rather to encounter the God who opens up our hearts to those around us. Augustine himself was only too aware of the temptations of interiority. His first experiment in community life was with like-minded friends near Milan just after his bap-tism. He established a community apart from the hustle and bustle of life in order to spend time in contemplation and reflection: otium sanctum, "holy leisure." He brought Review for Religious this idealized form of Christian community back to North Africa, to Thagaste, where he established a lay community, but he had a.rude awakening. Visiting a church in Hippo one day to look for a candidate for his community, he was grabbed by the congregation and presented to the aging Bishop Valerius for ordination to the priesthood--and he wept. Augustine knew that from then on his life would no longer be his own. Gone for the rest of his life was any notion of otium sanctum. The life of contemplation would lead him now to share that contemplation with others. It is a paradox of his life, and indeed of the Christian life in general, that the journey within becomes at a certain point a journey outwards, to God and to others. Hence his famous observation in the City of God: "For no one ought to be so leisured as to take no thought in that leisure for the interest of his neighbor, nor so active as to feel no need for the contemplation of God" (xIx. 19). The current resurgence of interest in religion and spirituality is evidenced in the number of books in the "Mind, Body, and Spirit" sections in most bookstores. Often the Christian section is quite small in relation to other religions. Clearly, many are hungry for a spiritual view of life. It has become obvious that people cannot survive for long on unbelief and on a purely secular view of the world, in spite of the predictions of the proponents of the "theory of secularization," who are now eating humble pie. Harvey Cox has said: "Today it is secularity, not spirituality, that may be headed for extinction" (Fire from Heaven, London: Cassell, 1996, p. xv). People yearn for enchantment. Secularity does not feed the human spirit, which is made for God. The Vatican has responded to this phenomenon by publishing Jesus Christ, the Bearer of the Water of Life: A Christian Reflection on the "New Age" (Pontifical Councils for Culture and Interreligious Dialogue, 2003). It 62.4 2003 Graham ¯ Belie, Augustine, and the New Religiosity This new religiosity is largely non-Christian. acknowledges that this renewed interest in spirituality and religion in general is evidence of a spiritual hunger in the contemporary world. There is in people a deep desire for the transcendent. "Our hearts are restless," says Augustine, restless for the true God (Confessions, I. 1). The document sees in this new religiosity "a genuine yearning for a deeper spiritu-ality, for something that will touch their hearts, and for a way of making sense of a con-fusing and often alienating world" (1.5). It also notes many positive aspects of this religiosity: its criticism of materialism, its sense of the sacredness of life, and its concern for the environment. But there is a difficulty. This new religiosity is largely non-Christian. As the document says, "it is on the wh61e difficult to reconcile it with Christian doctrine and spir-ituality" (2). It is important to remember that we are all subject to these influences in society at large. One has only to mention the example of Cherie Blair, the wife of the British prime minister, who has publicly declared her allegiance both to the Catholic Church and to forms of New Ageism, such as the use of crystals. I have no wish to judge an individual case, merely to cite her as a very public example of what I believe to be a common misapprehension: that you can mix Christianity with alternative spiritualities and think there is nothing amiss. Some of it may be harmless, but one needs to be dis-criminating. The current tendency towards the privatization of faith and spiritual individualism is also picked up by the Vatican document, which refers to "spiritual narcissism" and the "private world of ego-fulfillment," quoting a well-known commentator On New Age (3.2). It also cautions against looking for religious experiences "engen- Review for Religious dered by turning in on oneself." This leads on to the fundamental point that "Christian prayer is not an exer-cise in self, contemplation, stillness, and self-emptying, but a dialogue of love" (3.4). Certain kinds of religion can easily become an ego trip, and this document is not afraid to say so. Augustine's search for God, expressed in his Confessions, appears on one level to be the classic "journey within," and indeed he gave succeeding generations the spiritual vocabulary for that necessary journey. But he is at pains to point out that, unbeknownst to himself, God was with him at all times on that journey. It was not so much a search for self as a search for the Truth outside of self. In a sense, it was God who went in search of Augustine, not the other way round. It was grace that prompted him to seek God in the first place: "You were within me, and I was in the world outside myself . You called me, you cried aloud to me, you broke the bar-rier of my deafness" (X.2 7). As Jesus says in John's Gospel, "you did not choose me; no, I chose you" (Jn 15:16). It is important to mention this, as Eastern forms of prayer and meditation are very popular. While there are many rich insights to be gained from these traditions, like the need for stillness and proper bodily posture, one has to remember that these are not Christian forms of prayer. They are mainly exercises to bring about an expe-rience of peace and enlightenment. But Christian prayer is not fundamentally about such experiences, unless they come as a grace from God. It is a relationship more than an individual experience of heightened consciousness or awareness. As the Vatican document points out, "life in Christ is not something so personal and private that it is restricted to the realm of consciousness. Nor is it merely a new level of awareness" (3.5). To quote a contemporary theologian speaking about Augustinian interiority, Christian prayer is not a "diving expedition into the soul" 62.4 2003 Graham ¯ Belief, Augustine, and the New Religiosity (John Milbank, Theology and Social Theory, London: Blackwell, 1990, p. 291), but an encounter with the living God in the person of Jesus Christ, the bearer of the water of life. Dry Rain It is as if a great party is under way: with every wind falling leaves, multicolored, natural confetti, gigantic golden snowflakes fr6m a sycamore. Autumnal dry rain in its festive, roundabout fashion waters next spring's growth, rots its way to fruitfulness, an ordinary embodiment of mercy, another promise of life from death, another reason to hope. Bonnie Thurston Review for Religious DENNIS J. BILLY Rediscovering the Rosary On 16 October 2002 Pope John Paul ~I promul-gated an apostolic letter on the rosary titled Rosarium Virginis Mariae. The purpose of the letter is to help Christians rediscover the rosary as a venerable form of prayer that will lead them "to contemplate with Mary the face of Christ" (§3). Addressed to the church's bishops, clergy, and faithful, the letter is continuous with the pope's earlier reflections in his apostolic letter on the new millennium, Novo millennio ineunte, where he insists on the importance of developing "schools of prayer" for helping the members of Christ's body to "set out in deep waters" (duc in altum) and experience the fullness of the gospel message. "With the rosary," the pope says, "the Christian people sits at the school of Mary and is led to contemplate th6 beauty on the face of Christ and to experience the depths Of his love" (~1). In order to help this process of reclaiming along, he has officially proclaimed a "Year of the devotional life Dennis J. Billy CSSR writes again from Collegio Sant'Alfonso; C.P. 2458; Roma 00100; Italy. 62.4 2003 Billy * Rediscovering the Rosary Rosary" spanning from October 2002 to October 2003 (§3). A Path of Contemplation In this letter the pope reiterates a statement he made in his letter on the new millennium: "What is needed is a Christian life distinguished above all in the art of prayer." He presents the rosary as a "path of contemplation" that developed in the West and represents a counterpart to Eastern Christianity's "prayer of the heart" or "Jesus Prayer." It numbers "among the finest and most praiseworthy traditions of Christian contemplation" (§5). !n order to reclaim its full meaning, however, the rosary must be prayed meditatively against a backdrop of solitude. It sustains rather than conflicts with the liturgy. If properly revitalized, the prayer will be in touch with its Christological center and will aid rather than impede ecumenical efforts (§4). The rosary, moreover, is proposed as a preeminent prayer for peace and as a way of helping families cope with the forces of disintegration that threaten them on both the ideological and practical levels (§6). Mary is presented in the letter as the model of Christian contemplation par excellence: "No one has ever devoted himself to the contemplation of the face of Christ as faithfully as Mary." Mary's gaze would at times be % questioning look," as when she found Jesus in the temple (see Lk 2:48). It would also be % penetrating gaze" capable of understanding Jesus and possibly even anticipating his decisions, as at the wedding at Cana (see Jn 2:5). It could also be % look of sorrow," as when she stood beneath the cross (see Jn 19:26-27) or % gaze radiant with the joy of the resurrection," as on Easter morning, or "a gaze afire with the outpouring of the Spirit" (§10), as on the day of Pentecost (see Ac 1:14). Re'levy for Religious Because the rosary starts with Mary's experience, the pope describes it as "an exquisitely contemplative prayer." Without this contemplative dimension, it would lose its meaning and risk becoming nothing more than "a mechanical repetition of formulas" (§12). When prayed with reverence and a reflective heart, the rosary enables believers to remember Christ with Mary, to learn Chris~ with Mary, and to be conformed to Christ with Mary, to pray to Christ with Mary, and to proclaim Christ with Mary (§§13-17). A Compendium of the Gospel "The rosary," for John Paul, "is one of the traditional paths of Christian prayer directed to the contemplation of the face of Christ" (§18). It is sometimes referred to as "a compendium of the gospel." To further emphasize its Christological depth, the pope has proposed five new mysteries, from Jesus' public life. In addition to the traditional joyful, sorrowful, and glorious mysteries, these "mysteries of light" are "(1) Jesus' baptism in the Jordan, (2) his self-manifestation at the wedding of Cana, (3)' his proclamation of the king-dom of God, with his call to conversion, (4) his transfiguration, and (5) his institution of the Eucharist, as the sacramental expression of the paschal mystery" (§21). These mysteries span Jesus' public ministry. The first is traditionally understood as the first action of his public ministry. The second and third present him respectively as a miracle worker and as preaching and teaching with The five mysteries lead us from the beginning to the end of Jesus' public ministry and focus on the key elements of his message. 62.4 2003 Billy * Rediscovering the Rosary authority. The fourth foreshadows the resurrection and presents Jesus as the culmination of the Law and the Prophets. The fifth is traditionally considered the last action of his public ministry. The five mysteries lead us from the beginning to the end of Jesus' public ministxy and focus on the key elements of his message. As prophetic actions that effect what they signify, Jesus' baptism and his institution of the Eucharist encapsulate the whole of his ministry and serve as fitting bookends for all that comes between. Although the pope leaves people free to follow the traditional format (§19), he is quick to point out that these five new mysteries round out the contemplative focus of the rosary by adding Jesus' .public life to the profound mysteries of the incarnation, the passion, and the resurreEtion that the other three series highlight. In doing so, he roots the rosary even deeper in the Gospel narratives and encourages the faithful to see the intimate unity of the whole of Jesus' redemptive mission. Because the mystery of Christ also reveals something "about the mystery of man, the pope goes on to point out the important anthropological significance of the rosary for believers: "Contemplating Christ's birth, they learn of the sanctity of life; seeing the household of Nazareth, they learn the original truth of the family according to God's plan; listening to the Master in the mysteries of his public ministry, they find the light which leads them to enter the kingdom of God; and, following him on the way to Calvary, they learn the meaning of salvific suffering. Finally, contemplating Christ and his Blessed Mother in glory, they see the goal toward which each of us is called, if we allow ourselves to be healed and transformed by the Holy Spirit" (§25). When reflected upon with care, each of the mysteries of the rosary says something significant about the mystery of human existence. Review for Religious Assimilating the Mystery The.pope also devotes considerable space to how believers should pray the rosary. He highlights the constituent elements of this method of contemplation, one rooted in "the inner logic of the incarnation," namely, that in Jesus God wanted to take on human features. It is well to announce each mystery, perhaps with a suitable icon that will open up the biblical scenario for those praying. The announcement is meant to lead the imagination to focus on a particular moment in the life of Christ (§29). A reading from Scripture, long or short depending on the circumstances, can follow, and then a brief period of silence (§§30 and 31). After these preparatory exercises, those praying lift their minds to the Father with the words of the Our Father. Then come ten Hail Marys followed by the Trinitarian doxology (and sometimes a short prayer) to conclude the decade (§§32-35). Beginning and finishing the rosary as a whole is done in a variety of ways. Some people begin with a verse of Psalm 70: "O God, come to my aid; O Lord make haste to help me." Others begin with the Creed, an Our Father, and three Hail Marys (§37). Some people habitually pray all twenty decades of the rosary in a single day. For those who say five decades a day, the pope suggests the following format: the joyful mysteries on Monday and Saturday, the sorrowful mysteries on Tuesday and Friday, the mysteries of light on Thursday, and the glorious mysteries on Wednesday and The rosary invites believers to open their hearts with Mary to the Word of God seeking to be born within them. 62.4 2003 Billy ¯ Rediscovering the Rosary Sunday (§38). The beads themselves are more than a mere counting device. Flowing from and converging upon the crucifix, they remind believers that their lives must be centered on Christ, and can be seen as "a chain which links us to God," a symbol of "the bond of communion and fraternity which unites us all in Christ" (§36). The pope makes one point very clear: "Although the repeated Hail Mary is addressed direcdy to Mary, it is to Jesus that the act of love is ultimately directed, with her and through her." The repetition suggests our ongoing desire "to be conformed ever more completely to Christ, the true program of the Christian life" (§26). As a "method of contemplation," the rosary invites believers to open their hearts with Mary to the Word of God seeking to be born within them. Like the liturgy, it is a prayer which engages "the whole person in all his complex psychological, physical, and relational reality" (§27). Ten Purposes The pope's apostolic letter serves ten basic purposes: (1) it provides a fitting Marian complement to Novo millennio ineunte, his earlier apostolic letter on the new millennium; (2) it emphasizes the contemplative dimension of the rosary and encourages believers to use it "to contemplate with Mary the face of Christ"; (3) it reviews the method typically used when praying it and shows how it corresponds to the inner logic of the incarnation; (4) it draws out the Christological basis of the rosary and asserts that, when used appropriately, it will further rather than hinder ecumenism; (5) it highlights the anthropological dimensions revealed in the various mysteries and shows how the rosary can lead to a deeper understanding of human, existence; (6) it affirms that the rosary sustains the liturgy rather than being in conflict with it; (7) it breathes new life into the rosary by adding new mysteries that will root it even more deeply Review for Religious in the Scripture; (8) it shows parents that the rosary can help hold their family together in the faith and can foster their children's spiritual growth and development; (9) it presents the rosary as a prayer that by its very nature can advance peace in the world; and (10) it designates the year October 2002-October 2003 as a special time for rediscovering the power and beauty of this ancient and venerable form of prayer. The goal in all of this is to help the faithful recognize the grea( gift they have in the rosary and use it in new and creative ways as they face the challenges ahead of them. In his conclusion, the pope asserts that the rosary is "a treasure to be rediscovered." It has something to offer to everyone: bishops, priests, deacons, religious, and laypersons. He asks all members of the church to take this old and venerable form of prayer once again to heart: "I look to all of you, brothers and sisters of every state of life, to you, Christian families, to you, the sick and elderly, and to you, young people: confidently take up the rosary once again. Rediscover the rosary in the light of Scripture, in harmony with the liturgy, and in the context of your daily lives" (§43). soundings for one of the sisters in the infirmary little does she know she teaches me how to eclipse her deafness. i am brief, no, spare in my attempts. at eighty, she is the poem: words are few mixing with her grief which ebbs like the tides at twilight Lou Ella Hickman IWBS 62.4 2003 MARY JOSEPH SCHULTZ Mirroring Jesus: The Luminous Mysteries and Religious Life TRhosea rHy-o-lOyc Ftoabtheer r2'0s0 n2a tmo iOncgt oobfe trh 2e0 Y03e-a-cr aomf et,he certainly not coincidentally, during a time of profound unrest, conflict, and anxiety. Our world and our church are in labor, struggling for a birth, a release, new life, The feelings of fear, hopelessness, and anxiety that have invaded the lives of all of us call for healing and a new vision. The luminous mysteries of the rosary offer all Christians a new perspective, a new graced opportunity to deepen our understanding and love of our faith, namely, by bringing the public life of Jesus into the rosary. Here we can find refreshment for our souls in these complicated and strife-filled days. We can also find here an additional special gift as vowed religious. I would like to examine the new mysteries in relation to ~onsecrated Mary Joseph Schultz SCC is president of Assumption College for Sisters, the only rerfiaining sister-formation college in the United States. Her address there is 350 Bernardsville Road; Mendham, New Jersey 07945. Revie-w for Religious life, reflecting on how each one can be linked to an essential element of it. The Baptism of Jesus--"You are my beloved Son. On you my fax;or rests" (Mk 1:11). Baptism the Foundation of Religious Life. By virtue of our baptism, all Christians are consecrated for evangelization. We are reborn in Christ; our life is no longer our own. This exalted reality of the indwelling, always challenging and sometimes downright scary, takes a lifetime, indeed an eternity, to grasp. We have been chosen by God to take on the image of his Son, to be his child in our world today. And naturally we cannot attempt this alone, but God's abiding presence, the surpassing gift of grace, enables and ennobles us from within. What does being reborn in Christ imply, particularly for a religious? We are doubly chosen. Cradle Catholics were first called by God through our own particular birth circumstances; converts to Catholicism followed a circuitous adaptive route to being cleansed, empowered, Christified. Whatever the circumstances of our baptism, we have been called and sent, challenged by the Spirit to put on Christ. But as religious our further call is yet more radical. By our call to religious life, the fire that burns in the heart of all Christians is ignited into a new flame of desire for deeper union, deeper consecration, through the gift of our lives. As John Paul II tells us in Vita consecrata, "in such a life baptismal consecration develops into a radical response in the following of Christ through acceptance of the evangelical counsels" (§14). Apart from the consecration of our baptism, it is unlikely that we would .have heard any call to religious life. It is baptism's sacramental spark that ignites the steady flame of Christianity. But, for the steady flame to be strong, it requires of everyone the living of the evangelical counsels. For religious there is a renewed 62.4 2003 Scbultz ¯ Mirroring yesus commitment to them. This is a new source of fuel, our life newly offered to God in all its aspects, like so many grains of incense. The religious life, often symbolized by burning candles too, takes on a new intensity and brings the baptismal vows into a concentrated focus. Perhaps this is why the profession of the evangelical counsels has never been elevated to being a sacrament in the Catholic Church (which some have proposed). It is so obviously an efflorescence of the permanent sacramental character of baptism already present. It is also a deepening of that already living root. The Wedding Feast of Cana--"Do whatever he tells you" (In 2:5). Obedience. In this wonderfully human and touching scene from the life of Jesus, we hear the only recorded words spoken by Mary during the public life of her Son: "They have no wine" and "Do whatever he tells you." Indeed, these words inaugurate his public life. And, for religious women and men, this scene and these words teach a lesson on the vow of obedience. During the thirty years or so since I began learning about the vows in the novitiate, obedience, of all the vows, has undergone the greatest transformation. It has also held the most difficult challenges. (As in most paschal realities, these are not unrelated developments.) My juvenile understanding of "blind" obedience and merely "doing what your superior tells you" has unfolded into a passionate desire to seek the will of God in all its manifestations. Let us face it, how many direct injunctions do community leaders issue during a year to the group as a whole or to me individually? My obedience must be daily and personal. It cannot be relegated to a once-a-year acceptance of my assigned apostolate, though that has sometimes been traumatic enough. Because of the gift of my vow of obedience, I Review for Religious must strive each and every day to hear God speaking to me in a multitude of people, places, and circumstances. I must keep my heart attentive to all of God's calls and then responsive, doing "whatever he tells you." The response could be as small as picking up the phone when I am already engrossed in another task, or lovingly setting aside my own agenda when a sister needs my help. It could be as large as accepting a call to community leadership, or adjusting to the death of a loved one. I laid down my will at my profession. The "freedom" I renounced back then has given rise to a new deeper freedom of spirit. I am free to pursue holiness through the directives of God mediated by my community leadership, other community members, and the circumstances of my life. United with my sisters in community, I stand before God's will, ready to discern and accept. This requires an ongoing grace of faith, a sense of responsibility for myself and others, and a growing awareness of my gifts and limitations. In due time Jesus takes the water of my desire and turns it into the wine of his desire for me. Because of the gift of my vow of obedience, I must strive each and every day to hear God speaking to me in a multitude of people, places, and circumstances. Proclamation of the Kingdom--"The kingdom of God is at hand" (Mk 1:15). Chastity. In the eyes of society today, chastity for the sake of the kingdom is perhaps the most mystifying and countercultural of the three vows. It has been much written about in the past two years alone. Vv'hy give up marriage and the practice of a holy sexuality when it is 62.4 2003 Scbultz ¯ Mirroring yesus such a gift of God, when the witness of true marital fidelity is so sorely needed in today's world? Precisely to proclaim the kingdom! As John Paul II tells us in Vita consecrata: "Yes, in Christ it is possible to love God with all one's heart, putting him above every other love, and thus to love every creature with the freedom of God!" (§88). Not only is it possible, if one has really been called to it and possesses the graced capacity for the vow, but it is a most powerful means for proclaiming the message of the kingdom. The pure love called forth by this vow flows .from the very life of the Trinity, a communitarian life and love revealed to us in Christ. This life, this very same love, is the "stuff" of the Good News that we are called to proclaim, first by our lives, then by words if necessary, as St. Francis would say. By the evangelical counsels consecrated persons are immersed in the life of the Trinity, freed from the constrictions of an exclusive love, able to be totally available for the mission of the church as lived according to the particular community's charism. My chastity enables my obedience to come to fruition as I am called from one ministry to another, one house to another, even from one moment to another. I can and should live my life unattached, in the light of faith, with the joyful freedom of the new heavens and the new earth (see Rv 21:1). I have died and risen with Christ, and I am called to live in the now of the kingdom. The life of a religious man or woman symbolizes what it in fact is, a contact point between Christ and his church--and God's kingdom is truly at hand. The Transfiguration--"And he was transfigured before them" (Mt 17:2). Poverty. This mystical event in the life of Jesus gives his three apostles a glimpse of who he really is. His Review for Religious divinity shines forth, and they behold the glorious face of the Son of God. In reflecting on this incident afterwards, did it not strike them over and over what a tremendous emptying had taken place when Jesus assumed our human nature and for thirty-three years walked the earth as ordinary as themselves? These apostles, unlettered though they were, could not help reflecting on what they had witnessed. They were able to surmise the real identity of the One who called them to follow, the One for whom they too were emptying themselves, relinquishing things in their discipleship. During the vision Peter had exclaimed, "Lord, how good that we are here!" (Mt 17:4). Then he wanted to install three tents and make the experience a more permanent one. Jesus, however, drew them out of their mystical reverie: "When they raised their eyes, they saw no one else but Jesus alone" (Mr 17:8). He walked with them down the mountain, back to ordinary reality. This was the ordinary-looking Jesus, the man they knew and were used to, the friend they were leaving their ordinary lives to follow. He was "himself" again, and asking them to say nothing of what they had seen. For religious women and men who have left all things to follow the Master, the transfiguration can serve as a meditation on our vow of poverty. Jesus in his divine frugality "left behind" his Godhead to assume humanity, but how divine this poverty is, this incarnation, this "taking the form of a slave and being born in the likeness For religious women and men who have left all things to follow the Master, the transfiguration can serve as a meditation on our vow of poverty. 62.4 2003 Scbultz ¯ Mirroring Jesus of men" (Ph 2:7)! While on his earthly mission, Jesus downplayed his divinity or kept it to himself except for this sacred moment when his human poverty became apparent by contrast. Later Calvary was seen as the ultimate of human pain and humiliation, not by contrast as on Tabor, but in the depths of its willing self-sacrifice. By religious poverty we voluntarily give up personal accumulation and full personal use of worldly goods, even such things as time and talent. This emptying for the sake of Christlike availability is a way of doing something radical for God. It is true imitation of Jesus, "who made himself poor though he was rich" (2 Co 8:9). Where better do we see this stark reality than on Tabor? Living this vow, following the pattern of Christ, calls us to be poor in fact as well as in spirit. Religious need to give evidence of a simple lifestyle, with variations according to community charisms. We need to follow the call to empty ourselves radically, in imitation of the One who for our sake modeled a life of emptiness perfecdy. We face the challenge, especially in a materialistic society, of opting not to have, not to be caught up in the consumer mentality that is so suffocating and numbing. This voluntary self-renunciation makes sense only with the humble Christ before our eyes as ideal and strength. The Institution of the Eucharist--"This is my body to be given for you" (Lk 22:19). Community and Holiness. Religious life without a focus on the Eucharist is, to me, unthinkable and unlivable. How better can we be Christ, fulfill our baptismal consecration, and live the evangelical counsels than by daily receiving our nourishment from his very body and blood, by becoming what we eat? The gift of the Eucharist is the divine imagination's chosen way to be with us always, even to the end of time. Tending toward the holiness to which all founders and foundresses Review for Religious aspired, whatever their historical milieu, the members of religious communities must seek the Source of their graced desire for holiness in their Eucharistic communion. Finding it there, they also nurture one another. The bond of community is one of the distinguishing marks of religious life. We came to accomplish together what none of us can do alone. As members of the Mystical Body by virtue of baptism, we draw strength, light, and urgent zeal for evangelization from the sacramental Christ. "In the celebration of the mystery of the Lord's body and blood, the unity and charity of those who have consecrated their lives to God are strengthened and increased" (Vita consecrata, §95). In communal worship, community members reflect on Jesus' act of servitude in the washing of feet, his giving of himself in service. Turning to one another, we daily echo his words about his body being given for us (see Lk 22:19). To you, my sister, to you, my brother, in community, I give the gift of my personhood. Becoming bread and wine for the world, becoming nourishment for God's pilgrim people through our various ministries, is what consecrated persons are called to. No matter what our apostolic works entail, no matter where or how we minister to God's people, whether through prayer or action, we as religious are called and consecrated for holiness. We owe it to the Mystical Body. We owe it to the world. Our call, though individually discerned and individually professed, is lived in common. Our holiness can never be a private matter. We must be and become ever more really what we have publicly professed. While I am by no means suggesting that religious are on a pedestal, we surely are in a fishbowl, especially in the last few years. We must be who we say we are. Today's people have the right to expect that, when they look at religious, they will truly catch a glimpse of 62.4 2003 Schultz ¯ Mirroring Jesus Christ and the gospel values he preached and lived. It is he who must shine forth publicly. It is he who mysteriously and subdy works thi'ough our dull and sinful human selves, alone and in community. For putting on Christ, for living our vows and making ourselves receptive to communal Eucharistic holiness, we can hope to find the rosary's luminous mysteries providing us with fresh encouragement. Mary, our mother and guiding star, will be there as we begin, and at the end, and in between. Exchanging Gifts Even then, in that first star-guided Giving of gifts imported from lands afar: Not the most practical or the most useful For a young household, those gifts are That they offer: gold (of course, money Matters at any season of any year), . But however richly boxed, their potpourris Of high-priced frankincense and myrrh Fail to feed a family; still, nothing At all was ever expected in return, Unlike our ritual passings back and forth Of pricy imports and baubles, meant to earn More than mere admiration: the like exchange Endlessly of acquisitions from off the shelves Of shops, while that first starlit gift-recipient Gives us back endlessly our ransomed selves. Nancy G. Westerfield Review for Religious PETER CANTWELL Why Newly Professed Religious Leave This article was written to assist Franciscan lead-ers. They and others found it helpful.Without rewriting .it at the risk of losing some of its orig-inal flav~r, I offer it to other religious in the continuin~ conversation about this vital issue. As Francis of Assisi neared death, he said to his brothers, "I have done what is mine to do; may Christ teach you what is yours to do.''1 Implied in these words is a challenge for his followers to discover anew in each generation how to express his ideals. There can never be one fixed expression of such a rich gospel charism, nor should there be. Every age, every season of life, and every culture requires us to dig deep into the gospel as Franci~ read it and find new ways to live his simple but demanding religious perspectives Peter Cantwell OFIM, a Franciscan friar, has been a lecturer and practitioner in individual, couples, and family therapy for thirty years, and is director of ongoing formation for the Australian Franciscan province. His address is St. Francis Xavier Church; 1087 Whitehorse Road; Box Hill, Victoria 3128; Australia. 62.4 2003 Cantwell ¯ Wby Newly Professed Religious Leave message. Failure to take up that challenge condemns us to irrelevance and extinction. Over recent years I have often reflected on why some young friars who join us with enthusiasm and excitement depart from our community soon after final commit-ment. Just at that moment when possibilities for min-istry open out, when there is the exciting chance to walk the path of Francis in our world, some choose to leave us. (Incidentally, I believe the following reflections also apply to why more young men do not join us.) These are my own personal musings on this vexing question, musings with which you, the reader, might dis-agree. Behind them lie some of my own story in the Franciscans and several of my deeply held beliefs about our life. For thirty years I have been involved in renewal programs for religious and in the screening program for candidates for our Australian province. As a professional counselor I have helped many religious and priests at the moment of their departure. Visiting other provinces of the order, I have observed similar phenomena. My teaching of counseling in secular and religious tertiary settings has enabled me to talk with adults about how they see religious life. Behind my reflections are one deep personal convic-tion and one fact. My conviction is that the message and ideals of Francis--of bringing the gospel's peace mes-sage to the world, of seeing beyond the allurement of consumerism, of having a special concern for the poor-- are what is most needed by today's world, particularly today's youth. There is no malaise in the ideals proposed to us by Francis. They are as radiant and relevant as ever they were. The fact about Franciscan religious life today is that there is a gap--though perhaps it is narrowing-- between Francis's ideals for us friars and the lived real-ity of our fraternal lives and ministries. We express 6ur ideals in ways that have lost their relevance. Because of Review for Religious this, some young religious cannot recognize the fire of Francis in our daily structures, and they seek to imple-ment their ideals elsewhere. I do not share the pessimism of friars who say they would not invite young people to join us. I find such defeatism thoroughly unlike Francis; it betrays an unwill-ingness to make changes that we need to make. I write these reflections with hope and rising excitement. Hope and possibility are being shown by those with daring and vision. Baggage We Still Carry with Us In thinking and (alking about why young friars leave, we have often focused on only part of the picture. Thus, some have said that young friars leave because their gen-eration is selfish and not willing to make a commitment. Recent developments in family therapy suggest looking to the big picture--the whole family or, in our case, the whole "system"--for the cure. Formerly, acting-out ado-lescents were usually treated with individual therapy, on the theory that there was something wrong within the adolescent: correct that and all would be fine. But often there was a relapse. Therapy began to realize that the problem might be a reflection of what was happening in the entire family--and that the entire family might need to change its way of operating. Certainly there are times when the difficulty is mostly within the individual, but people cannot not be affected by the systems in which they live. Can these insights help us understand why some friars leave? Is saying that young brothers leave because their generation is "selfish and unwilling to make com-mitments" being fair about the part the system of reli-gious life plays in their departure? When I joined religious life in the mid 1950s, it somewhat resembled what is sociologically called a "total 62.4 2003 Cantwell ¯ Why Newly Professed Religious Leave Francis founded his brotherhood as complementary to the monastic movement. institution," one where the identity of the institution assumes priority Over the identities of the individuals who make it up. We dressed identically; we were exhorted to behave the same. To stand out or be "sin-gular" might indicate pride. Community life was the con-veyer of grace, so conformity to a detailed daily regimen was expected. Personal relationships were discouraged because they endangered celibacy: We were trained to be self-contained and to let our conformity and work express our commitment. Though much is now chang-ing, the nonrelational tone of some communities can cause isolation in young friars. Contemporary research says that religious life had become caught in a monastic lifestyle that many founders did not want) Francis founded his brotherhood as com-plementary to the monastic movement. He deliberately did not want to be absorbed into monasticism. He founded us to be a stark challenge, even a shock, to both civil and ecclesiastical society through living the gospel in a radical and transparent way. After his death the brothers, channeled into the monastic movement, lost mobility, lostpublic visibility, and lost a credible lifestyle. One writer says that we were tamed by the insti-tutional church. We do not live on the edge anymore except by courageous individual choice.3 Young friars find these monastic remnants quaint and a block to their ide-alistic vision. Do we provide opportunity for them to live out their dreams, or are they merely educated to fit in? After the departure of a young brother, I have heard such remarks as "He lost his vocation. I could see it coming. He had all those friends outside community." l~eview for l~etigious These words may reflect a theologically crass way of describing a vocation, absolving the community of any contribution to the departure. The vocation seems to be pictured as something in a hermetically sealed container, given to the recipient by God, and totally immune to and separate from fraternal influences. On one level there is nothing mysterious about the growth of a vocation. I had never met a Franciscan till I did a retreat during the last year of high school. I was impressed by the Franciscan who gave the retreat. He had been a professional reporter with a bright economic future, but he gave it up to be a friar. I thought there must be something pretty good in that life. I approached him. He was interested in me, came to visit my family, kept contact, became a friend (with a big age difference). He nurtured my interest and fanned the small flame of inquiry. He gave me literature on Francis, and I discov-ered that Francis had made a similar decision seven hun-dred years earlier. Francis had everything he wanted, but realized it was not enough. Wow! I could feel excite-ment when I left home to join thefriars. My three broth-ers had all married and were pleased with their choices. I felt I was making an equally exciting choice. It was the start of an adventure, an adventure that has never stopped. Friars supported me and cared for me; I formed deep friendships over the years. These friends offered me opportunities, and they challenged me to live the life. Would my vocation have .grown without them? Could I have nurtured my personal "grace of vocation" without them? I doubt it. A vocation is a delicate seed. It needs warmth and careful watering, especially during the early days. The atmosphere, the environment, affects its interior and exterior development. In a recent article a young per-son says that "true rapport, indeed a real friendship, with one religious is more valuable in discernment than one 62.4 2003 Cant'well ¯ Why Newly Professed Religious Leave IIll hundred religious asking me if I am interested in their order . It is very important that religious communi-ties develop friendships with us that nurture growth in faith and commitment to God.''4 In looking at the place of larger systems in the devel-opment of a vocation, we must say a word about the church. As is the case in the order, there are many seeds of hope within the church today. But ~here is something else as well. In a secular university where I teach coun-seling a couple of days a week, I have wonderful students on the whole, postgraduate students of mature age. About a third of them are nonpracticing Catholics. We often have interesting discussions at lunch breaks. They find it hard to understand how someone who is more qualified in their profession than they are can be both-ered being highly involved in church matters. They are not angry with the church. They just find the church irrelevant. The church sometimes gives the impression that it does not need to listen to people's .needs, that it knows the questions they should be asking. But, as Giacomo Bini says, the church can spend its time answer-ing questions that people are not asking. A Change of Culture The worst way we friars can live our Franciscan com-mitment is to ape in our time what Francis did in his. Our age presents challenges different from his, and here lies the rub. As friars we are called to be mobile, not only with our dwellings and our phones, but with our thinking. Change is of the essence of decent physical, emotional, spiritual, communal growth. The strange thing is not that yeligious life is changing, but that it managed to stay the same for so long. "It is equilibrium, not change, that is fatal." 5 The challenge is that we need to change. Are we Willing? The following thoughts try to catch the spirit of our Review for Religious times, point out the needs that we have to answer, sketch the cultural milieu to which we have to be relevant with our exciting Message. To be relevant, we will have to make 180-degree turns in many areas. Years after we ourselves grew up, what are some of the characteristics of the culture in which our new friars have grown up? One dramatic change in today's society is a shift from a work world to a relational world. Recent research in Australia society shows that around one-fourth of the people between the ages of thirty and sixty are "down-shifters"; that is, they have changed careers or reduced work hours and taken a pay cut in order to have more time for family and friends: "The lifestyle has given them a wealth of new friends from a wide cross-section of backgrounds, and the dis-tinction of knowing the names 0f everyone who lives in their street.''6 Obviously not all people are choosing to make this shift, nor should they, but it represents a new emphasis in modern life, a move away from workplace efficiency toward the full growth of the human person. The young writer quoted earlier supports such adaptation: "One of the most com-monly found features of Generation X is its sense of iso-lation and its yearning for stable companionship . We Xers are drawn wherever we feel welcome and find friendship.''7 "Intimacy" (how I relate to another human being) is an important element of human growth, occurring in early adulthood and building on people's sense of iden-tity (who I am). In popular parlance, intimacy is often wrongly identified with sexual intimacy. Intimacy tech- One dramatic change in today's society is a shift from a work world to a relational world. 62.4 2003 Cantwell ¯ Why Newly Professed Religious Leave nically means the capacity to function "up close" to another person in any situation of life. There is no evi-dence that physical sexual intimacy is "necessary for mature development, but there is a wealth of evidence that having close friends, feeling cared for and loved, and being able to relate to others without unnecessary barriers are central to happiness. Closely allied to having healthy relationships is the search for true community. More so than previous gen-erations, today's young people meet many of their inti-macy needs by belonging to a group. A young person observes that in his view "religious life is special in pro-viding everyday community practices that foster spiri-tual growth in ways that are difficult to find on one's own.''8 The young today value being in a supportive envi-ronment more than having job security. The breakdown of traditional neighborhoods and the mobility of Western populations are the causes of much loneliness and isola-tion. The multitude of support groups--from therapy groups to reading groups--witnesses to contemporary culture's hunger for community. Young adults do not Seek community as a soft option: "We do not want community just to comfort, us and give us a sense of security. We want to be stretched and chal-lenged to serve God and others with the community life serving as a support that allows us to reach beyond our-selves in the service of God through prayer and works.''9 And they actually seek structures in community, but ones that are alive and thoughtful and provide human and spiritual support. Among the tertiary students I teach, I find it.easy to initiate a discussion on "spirituality," but mention the word religion and the energy for the discussion dimin-ishes. "Religion" is seen to be connected to mainstream churches, which are often experienced as irrelevant. The young seek a spirituality that builds on human whole- Review for Religious ness. For them being "fully spiritual" is being "fully human." They often experience mainstream church life as a spiritual desert. "Xers are known for their great spir-itual hunger. When this deep hunger for religious mean-ing has not been satisfied within the religious practice of families, many of us have looked outside of the tradi-tional familial practices to come into contact with the transcendent meaning that we crave." 10 Young adults today are perceptive about genuine-ness: the medium is the message. "Religious need to present, themselves as people who have benefited immensely from their vocation and have found peace, mission, love, and a passion for the gospel and for God through their decision."11 The culture of the young has little time for the phony, for performance that does not come from the heart. They are very sensitive to any gap between what we ask them to profess and what they observe us living. Do we ask them to profess "poverty" and then live like upper-middle-class people? "In sum, Xers are not going to make a radical countercultural decision unless they see a radical lifestyle being lived out, one that has benefits that married life does not.''12 We ask them to give up everything. What is the excit-ing challenge we offer them? I am convinced that the issue for today's world is "justice," especially for disenfranchised groups and par-ticularly those without a social voice. Issues of church dogma--while not in any sense unimportant--evoke lit-tle energy compared with issues of people's rights to just treatment. Daily newspapers are full of human-rights and justice issues. "Experience indicates that [young adults] have a very strong sense of the common good and of collective social and civic responsibility.''13 They have little truck with cover-ups and social dishonesty, and find the behavior of some church officials in recent sexual-abuse issues obnoxious. 62.4 2003 Cantwell ¯ Why Newly Professed Religious Leave Today's young adults demand authenticity of person and action. Seeds of New Life My hope for the future of our brotherly life comes from my conviction that Francis calls us to a style of fra-ternal living and mission for which there is a thirst in our culture. If our young adults are calling for transpar-ent authenticity in personal life, for communal life that is supportive and challenging, for relationships rather than material efficiency, for spiritualwholeness, and for engage-ment with justice and peace in our world. Are these things not the message of Francis of Assisi and the ideals that today's Franciscans have at heart? It would take us beyond the present article to elabo-rate on these five emphases, nor is it necessary. I would like simply to quote from our Rule, from the contem-porary document Priorities of the Order, and from sev-eral other sources to show that what the young seek has always been and is now central in theory to our life. Today's young adults demand authenticity of person and action. Nothing characterized the life of Francis more than his untiring personal conversion, his belief that the best message he could offer to people was the transparency of his own life, being a "living memory of the gospel ofJes.us.''14 His journey to La Verna was a call to purify his own life, to make it as close to his Lord's as possible. The stigmata was the recognition, the physical manifestation~ of the union of Francis's spirit with that of his Lord. For Francis, fraternity is the first witness of the apos-tolate. For him, our relationship with our brothers and, of course, with God is the foundation of our way of life. What statement on fraternity could be better than the one in our Rule (chapter vI)? "And wherever the broth-ers may be together or meet [other] brothers, let them Review for Religious give witness that they are members of the one family. And let each one confidently make known his need to the other, for, if a mother has such care and love for her son born according to the flesh, should not someone love and care for his brother according to the Spirit even more diligently? And, if any of them become sick, the other brothers should serve him as they would wish to be served themselves." 15 The recent publication from our general chapter offers the same challenge for fraternity: "The Project of Fraternal Life. should be drawn up. so as to help the ministers, guardians, and friars to build up a real and profound fraternal life, to cultivate human values like dialogue, deep-level communication, a family spirit, mutual friendship, courtesy, willingness to serve, joy, jus-tice, transparency." 16 And Giacomo Bini says: "What a paradise . . . the atmosphere of the community becomes when the mem-bers have learned how to get to know one another and to engage in dialogue with themselves, with God, and with the others . We must therefore invest all our talents in promoting a formation to fraternal relationships and to relations with God. No excuses are acceptable: neither age nor temperament nor 'venerable' tradition can dis-pense us from this duty.''~7 One of the most delightful characteristics of both Francis and Clare was their abil-ity to relate to the high and the lowly, the rich and the poor, the powerless and the powerful, with equal com-mitment of spirit. The primacy of the spiritual in young people's search is highlighted in one simple quotation from Francis's Rule: "Those brothers to whom the Lord has given the grace of working should do their work faithfully and devotedly so that, avoiding idleness, the enemy of the soul, they do not extinguish the Spirit of holy prayer and devotion to which all other things of our earthly exis- 62.4 2003 Cantwell * Wb~ Newl~ Professed Religious Leave tence must contribute." 18 And in Priorities of the Order we are told: "The contemplative dimension must be that priority which orientates and animates our whole life: the manner in which we seek and live the presence of God in every day also determines our concrete style of life and our manner of pastoral action in the Fraternity.''19 Francis has been strongly identified with the peace movement, and his peace prayer is recited by many inside and outside the church. Francis devoted his energies to the justice and peace issues of his time. His attempts to mediate between local warring towns and his journey to speak with the Sultan of Egypt are just some examples of his commitment to and preoccupation with peace between peoples. The present pope gathered religious leaders in Assisi when he wished the world to pray for peace. The increasing concern with justice and peace throughout our order--seen in recent publications from our JPIC office in Rome and in the heavy involvement of friars in different parts of the world--witnesses to the clear focus of our communities on these issues. Priorities of the Order sums up the same idea: "The friars in their lives and in their words should be promoters of justice, and heralds and builders of peace and reconciliation, so as to be prophetic signs which fearlessly denounce all that which destroys the dignity of man and of creation." 20 How We Can HelpClose the Gap I believe that some friars leave our fraternity soon after final commitment because the gap between the "lived experience" of fraternal life and ministry and the ideals that were fostered and experienced during initial formation becomes too broad. Great work has been done on initial formation in our order over recent decades, but with final commitment the friar experiences the more ordinary lifestyle of the brotherhood. This older system with its more impersonal tone, overly routinized prayer Review for Religious life, and rugged individualism leaves them feeling iso-lated and unsupported, and they become work-oriented. After years of counseling numerous religious who have left, it is hard for me to remember someone who departed because interesting ministry was unavailable. The common comment has been that life became "too damn lonely." How can the different parties help to close the gap in this time of transition? Times of transition involve cri-sis, and any crisis has two possibilities: opportunity if the crisis is faced, danger oth-erwise. Facing the crisis means avoiding any split by keeping the conversation going, talking of differences and commonali-ties. No one side ever has the whole truth; the truth is a shared truth. I note much good-will on the part of older friars and enthusiasm on the part of the younger ones. There is much "good wine" in both generations. Given this good environment for cooperation, how can we work together? Are there practical moves we can all make? The follow-ing are some of my random suggestions, and maybe you can come up with others: We need to continue moving away from monastic-style buildings towards more ordinary homes. We need to find more visible, credible, and transparent ways of living. For many friars brought up on the older model, where relationships were discouraged and closeness was taboo, this change could present challenges. Contemporary research on religious life indicates that there is a move towards small groups immersed in local communities where there can be a more relational life. "We have need in our society for a countercultural way of life that wit- No one side ever has the whole truth; the truth is a shared truth. 62.4 2003 Cant'well ¯ Why Newly Professed Religious Leave nesses to the gospel call to transcend hedonism, greed, and the desire to dominate.''21 Living in more ordinary houses also makes us more mobile. If we need to do something different, we just sell and buy an ordinary house and are not stuck with a monastery to sell. But young friars .are often looking (like Francis) for a deeper challenge than "living in ordinary houses." They would like to live more simply than their ¯ surrounding culture. They are looking for a palpable sacrifice expressed in our way of living. Smaller houses also demand some of the ordinary decencies of day-to-day living that can be avoided in large houses: "How was your day?" "Sorry!" "Thank you." "May I--?" (Incidentally, the increasing tendency for religious to live alone in ordinary dwellings avoids, in my view, one of the fundamental witnesses of religious commitment.) My own picture of future community life has us liv-ing in ordinary houses and going from there to work. This provides some kind of boundary between work and fraternity. The very acts of leaving home for work and returning home after work are important symbolically. There is no reason why a parish community could not live in an ordinary house within the parish. Friars whose ministry is giving retreats or giving parish missions or working with the poor in the immediate neighborhood or teaching in a nearby school could live fraternally in an ordinary house. We should be slow to build homes or offices specifically for ourselves. If we need office space, we can always buy or rent--then move more easily if the need arises. The move to smaller community living requires more "conscious formation in relationships. Many of the broth-ers in my age group missed out on the "intimacy" stage of formation. There was no encouragement towards friend.ships, towards closeness, towards just ordinary con-nection with other friars. Often those who joined reli- Review for Religious gious life as late vocations have already experienced this stage of development. Gentle encouragement for older religious towards a more relational life can be a big help. Larger communities are sometimes necessary, espe-cially for those who are ill or need more attention, but a large building does not have to impede good fraternity. Attitude is the ruling factor. For instance, even a large din-ing room can be made homey through the use of smaller tables and random seating. House meetings can address, besides strictly busi-ness agendas, matters such as "How are we with each other?" Simple questions like "What is going well in the community?" and "What needs to happen for our life together to be even better?" focus on the positive and require friars to look ahead rather than grumble about difficulties. Such questions create space for friars' needs to be attended to regularly--a good principle of group dynamics. Having a community night--no scheduled work and no work" unless urge.nt--can really help to build frater-nity. Make the night a little special. The meal might be special or served differently or eaten later. The spiritual aspect of our lives should be present. A Eucharist that is thoughtfully prepared is one option, or a special variation on the prayer of the breviary. We need to keep reviewing our commitment to our min-istries, Youth are looking for an exciting ministry that gives witness to our Franciscan values. No ministry is excluded for us, but each ministry must flow out of who we are. The area of our lives which has been most tamed by the institutional church is that of ministry. We have become very mainstream. "Is the societal need that moved us into these works many years ago still relevant? Is the countercultural stance that characterized the socially radical and politica!ly subversive vision of the founders still operative?''22 62.4 2003 Cantwell ¯ Why Newly Professed Religious Leave Why are we doing what we are doing? One reason offered is "We have been doing it for a long time." Not good enough. Another is "We are doing good work and the people love us." I hope that the people will always love us, but that is not a sufficient reason to stay or.go. One danger is that, as priests become fewer, we will be tempted to fill slots for demanding bishops. We speak much about preferential option for the poor. Some of the exciting ventures in our order--and quite ordinary ones as well--are focused on this societal need. In my own province we have a small community of friars living in a housing settlement. They are doing great work in ordinary ways: forming neighborhood groups to keep the suburb clean, finding furniture for the needy, helping build local community support groups, being resources for addressing neighborhood troubles. Young men who are thinking of joining us rightly ask: "Why are you Franciscans doing that particular min-istry?" Can we answer them? I believe the recently introduced custom of mentoring younger friars is an excellent idea that deserves being imple-mented. Being a mentor has been challenging for me, and I believe that it has helped build bridges. Being mentored by more experienced friars has helped me enormously. Meetings of young friars and even meetings, of young reli-gious from different congregations provide support through the sharing of experiences and thus getting a sense of solidarity in a common venture. When the meeting has involved only friars, they have appreciated the presence of the provincial administration for some of the time during the meeting. Meetings of friars in which the experiences of the differ-ent age groups are shared can help build bridges. Recently in my province we asked our two newly professed friars, who had completed a very good novitiate in another Review for Religious pro-~ince, to share with us their experience of the novi-tiate. The theme was expanded to include what young people seek in religious life. Young and old enjoyed the experience. Often what seems like bad will is lack of information. I believe that young friars benefit enormously from hearing the experiences of the older friars, and that sharings like these help close the gap between generations. The proviso is always the priority on listening, coming to learn and understand, rather than being a know-all on either side. In particular, are we attentive to the promptings of the Spirit in the young friars? Do their contributions have their rightful effect on policy decisions? Have we helped them to be skilled at the culture gap? I want to make special mention of the great wisdom and contribution of the older friars. Often in this paper I have referred to age gaps. More correctly, they are cul-ture gaps. Some of the most up-to-date, psychologically flexible, and spiritually wise friars are those who have borne the heat of the day and who are able to offer their wisdom to any who listen. Keeping the conversation going between the different age groups is important in a time of transition. If we do not talk to each other, we build up fantasies of what "that other group" is thinking or doing. I believe we all have lo~s of goodwill, and behind our unwillingness is often fear. When I was prenovitiate director, I used to invite any friar who was passing through the area to "come and talk to the prenovices." The common worry was: "What will I talk about? I don't understand young people?" My response was: "Simply tell them what it has been like for you to be a follower of Francis." We had many enjoy-abl. e evenings, and imagined barriers were broken down. A prayer life that is simple but refreshing is the core of my fraternal life. There are many simple ways to vary common prayer: sing the hymn or play a CD, have some-one read the canticle reflectively, have silence instead of 62.4 2003 Cantwell * Wby Newly Professed Religious Leave Youth hearken to religious callings that offer a countercultural witness to the cultural trends of greed, power, consumerism, individualism. one of the psalms, omit a psalm and have a longer gospel reading or a nonscriptural reading. These suggestions do not require hours of preparation, but they draw us out of a numbing routine that certainly does not refresh my spirit. Faith sharing, too, deepens the experience of fraternity. There is often fear when faith sharing is mentioned: par-ticipants feel they will be asked to bare their souls before the brethren. I like to begin such sessions by saying that it is fine for any friar to be totally silent if that is his wish. One group with which I meet has a simple shared prayer that goes like this. First of all a text is read, usually from the Scriptures. After a short silence anyone who wishes shares just a phrase or word that stood out for him (no embellishment). The text is read a ,second time followed ¯ by a few minutes of silence. Then anyone who wishes . tells briefly what that text means to him or her. Finally we round off with a prayer. I always come away with some small inspiration. We will probably become poorer as a fraternity. Youth hearken to religious callings that offer a countercultural witness to the cultural trends of greed, power, con-sumerism, individualism. One of the most difficult chal-lenges I personally find is not taking the standards of average Australian society as the ones-for my own life. Some young friars have said that, when they joined the order, they went "up" in their standard of living. Can I live in such a way that, when lay people visit the com- Revie~ for Religious munity (or my room), they would find a simplicity of lifestyle that would make them think? Can we use for others the money people generously give us for our min-istry- and maintain a simple lifestyle in our fraternities? I believe Francis would want us to. As our numbers become smaller, we will probably become poorer as an order. I believe that will not do us any harm. When people--of whatever culture or race-- find that we are actually living side by side with them and are in need, they will provide for us. Finally, dare we do something new and exciting when numbers are going down--or even because numbers are going down? If young friars experience only the closing down of houses and nothing else, they might just feel they are on a sinking ship. If I Were a Young Man. If I were a young man with many bright opportuni-ties in Life before me, what kind: of Franciscan religious life would inspire me to join the fraternity? ¯ When I met individual friars, I would want to see the light in their eyes (like I found in the first friar I met) that would tell me they lived life with a passion. ¯ When I visited the communities~ I would want to feel genuinely welcomed (and I reckon I would quickly work out whether it was genuine, or not), not just another statistic. As I joined in community prayer, I would hope to find it fairly simple and thoughtful, not a rushed ver-sion of monastic prayei'. I would not want a lot of prayer--rather a quality about what I experience. And a certain atmosphere of silence at some times of the day would appeal to me. ¯ At recreation I would want to feel that the friars really wanted to have fun together and were not just going through another routine. I would be listening for such ordinary comments as "How was your day? What 62.4 2003 Cantwell ¯ Why Newly Professed Religious Leave were the results of Brother Juniper's visit to the doctor? Who has a new joke to tell?" ¯ I would want to talk to the older friars, to find out how they had experienced following Francis, to learn from their endurance and patience. I would want them to pray for my young journey and have confidence that I could make a contribution, even though different from theirs. I would want them to listen to my hopes, and I would want to hear theirs. Could they translate their struggles into something meaningful to me? ¯ I would hope the kitchen is a place where we all contribute--simple good food and good wine being essential to life. ¯ When they told me about their works, however simple, I would want to ask them why they did those particular things. How does the fire in their belly moti-vate what they do? I would be particularly excited about working for justice, for those without a social voice, for those who feel abandoned by our society. ¯ I would want to experience a rich diversity of min-istries: parishes (why this parish?), retreat work, work with the disadvantaged, skilled individuals doing some unusual ministries. The common denominator v~ould be the "Franciscan need." ¯ I would want to think that there is a certain mobil-ity about the brotherhood, that the friars have their ears to the ground ready to respond to new needs. ¯ I would want the accommodations to be simple yet comfortable--and that the rooms not be so self-contained as to be able to survive a nuclear attack. I would want the neighbors to call in when they think it important--and to be able to share our prayer life. But I would also hope there was a certain sacred space just for the community. ¯ I would want to feel encouraged to give rein to my dreams, to feel there is space for new wine as well as old. ¯ I would be most affected by friars who palpably Review for Religious enjoyed and passionately lived their lives, and who felt fulfilled as human beings and followers of Francis. Franciscan Fire I believe our world today is crying out for precisely those human and spiritual attitudes that Francis of Assisi lived so courageously. Through no bad will, we seem to have lost some of Francis's fire through excessive struc-tures and institutionalization. There is excitement in rediscovering it today, seeing the spark in people's eyes when they hear of Francis. Why do young friars leave? The ultimate answers are all individual. But some leave because the gap between the ideals of Francis and the lived experience of Franciscan life is or appears too great. Rather than blame either side--for blame simply darkens the space between us--can we see these departures as a call to stir the fire in our own lives? Numbers do not really mat-ter. Whether we are few or many is irrelevant, provided that friars are not leaving our midst because we are uncertain trumpets of truly good news. Our task is to echo credibly the ringing values of the poor man of Assisi. Francis and Clare became living and prophetic words to the people of their time. We are challenged to do the same, not alone but in tune with the Spirit. Let the last word be Oscar Romero's: This is what we are about. We plant the seed that one day will grow. We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise. We lay foundations that will need further development. We provide yeast that produces effects far beyond our capabilities. We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that. 62.4 2003 Cantwell ¯ Why Newly Professed Religious Leave This enables us to do something, and to do it very well. It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord's grace to enter and do the rest. We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker. We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs. We are prophets of a future not our own. Notes 1 Murray 8odo, The Way of St. Francis (Cincinnati: St. Anthony Messenger Press, 1995), p. xvi. 2 Michael J. Breen (ed.), A Fire in the Forest: Religious Lift in Ireland, survey by John A. Weafer (Dublin: Veritas, 2001). 3 Johannes Baptist Metz, Followers of Christ: The Religious Life and the Church, trans. Thomas Linton (New York: Paulist Press, 1977). 4 Matthew T. Eggemeier, "Generation X and Religious Life: A Personal View," Review for Religious 59, no. 5 (September-October 2000): 485 and 484. s Breen and Weafer, Fire, p. 61. 6 Sydney Morning Herald, 11-12 January 2003, p. 12. 7 Eggemeier, "Generation X," p. 482. 8 Eggemeier, "Generation X," p. 482. 9 Eggemeier, "Generation X," p. 483. 10 Eggemeier, "Generation X," p. 481. 11 Eggemeier, "Generation X," p. 486. 12 Eggemeier, "Generation X," pp. 486-487. 13 Lori Spanbauer, "Snapshot of the Millennial Generation," Horizon 27, no. 2 (2001-2002): 15. ,4 Giacomo Bini, Clare of Assisi: A Song of Praise (Rome: Franciscan Press, 2002), p. 15. is Rule and General Constitutions of the Order of Friars Minor (Pulaski, Wisconsin: Franciscan Publishers, 1974), p. 29. 16 Priorities of the Order, General Chapter 1997 (Rome: Franciscan Press, 1998), pp. 8-9. 17 Giacomo Bini, Clare, p. 55. Review for Religious 18 Rule and General Constitutions, p. 28. ~9 Priorities of the Order, p. 6. 2o Priorities of the Order, p. 11. 2~ Breen and Weafer, Fire, p. 68. 2~ Breen and Weafer, Fire, p. 106. Seminary Woods The oak leaves quietly drift from the tall trees, landing softly on the lake, their edges curled skyward as they float along, blown by a gentle breeze. Father, may my hands ever be lifted to you in prayer, as I am blown about life's surface, a little leaf made to glorify your Name. Christine Diensberg OSF 62.4 2003 DONALD C. MALDARI Ignatian Insights into Evangelical Poverty Over the centuries Christian spirituality has, ironically, valued the practice of poverty as an aid to becoming rich in holiness. The inspiration for this evaluation of poverty comes first from its most limpid example, that of the kenosis (emptying) of the Son of God in the incarnation (Ph 2:7) and then from the lives of every person whom Christianity considers a saint. Catholic tradition recommends the practice of the "evangelical counsels" to all Christians as aids in their growth in holiness.~ They are manifold ascetical practices, especially obedience, poverty, and chastity, designed to counter sinful tendencies. They aim at checking human delusions of independence from God, such as pride and self-centeredness. They promote a relationship with God animated by the theological virtues of faith, hope, and love.2 They all appear oddly paradoxical, like pursuing wealth by way of poverty. Ignatius Loyola's spirituality sheds light on this paradox for all struggling to find hope. The young Ignatius sought fulfillment in the ways that conformed to the values of his or really any Donald C. Maldari SJ is an assistant professor in the Department of Religious Studies; Le Moyne College; Syracuse, New York 13 214. Review for Religious materialistic society: in riches and honor. His life was driven by the pursuit of courtly honor and of physical gratification. His convalescence from a serious wound at the battle of Pamplona forced him into a poverty of sorts: a lack of distractions that afforded him the opportunity to find authentic fulfillment in a newfound relationship with God. Upon reflection Ignatius concluded that the riches and honors that people seek may lead to a pride that is self-destructive. This pride obstructs a life-giving relationship with God. In order to battle against the suicidal temptation to self-sufficiency that riches, honors, and pride offer, Ignatius turned to evangelical poverty. Along with the great tradition of Christianity, the mature Ignatius understood evangelical poverty neither as destitution nor as austere disdain for material goods to earn divine favor. Destitution wounds the inherent dignity of human persons by depriving them of what they require to develop as God desires. Disdain for material goods denies the goodness with which God endowed creation. As is evident from the First Principle and Foundation of his Spiritual Exercises, Ignatius, on the contrary, rejoiced in the vocation to fulfillment that God extends to all people and recommended using created things for that purpose (SpEx §23). He grew to understand evangelical poverty as a spiritual attitude and material lifestyle that promotes the most fulfilling creaturely relationship with the Creator. That relationship is made possible by the life that flows from God to creatures, that is, by grace, and the hope that animates creatures and draws them into participation in the very life of God. There appears, therefore, to be a relationship between evangelical poverty and theological hope in the spirituality of Ignatius. Ignatius pursues evangelical poverty as a means of cultivating theological hope. This hope puts Ignatius in direct contact with God, as is 62.4 2003 Maldari ¯ I~natian Insights into Evangelical Povert~ Ignatius's spirituality of poverty and hope is countercultural, as is Christianity itself. characteristic of the theological virtues. One can trace the development of Ignatius's embrace of evangelical poverty in his Autobiography, and one can glimpse the results in the fragments of his Spiritual Diary that have survived. In these fragments one is privy to Ignatius's growing relationship with the Holy Trinity, which he perceives as a community of love that shares all it is and has. It, too, lives evangelical poverty! In his Spiritual Exercises Ignatius invites exercitants to develop their own relationships with the triune God. Ignatius's spirituality of poverty and hope is countercultural, as is Christianity itself. The Gospels assert that those who wish to live authentically need to lose their lives whereas those who selfishly cling to their lives destroy them. Sacrifice, the root meaning of which is "to make holy," seems inevitably to involve some sort of renunciation. The Christian tradition believes that this renunciation is necessary because of the sinful and selfish inclinations of humankind. Evangelical poverty is one of the sacrifices which Christianity values. The hope which it cultivates nourishes people, allowing them to participate even now in the life of God. Ignatius's Understanding of Evangelical Poverty Ignatius's Autobiography reveals a man who grows in his love for God. He attributes to God the initiative in their relationship, but recognizes that people can cooperate with God by taking graced action in developing the relationship. Ignatius grew in his recognition of the Son, the Second Person of the Trinity, as the mediator between God and humanity. He encounters the Son in all creation, Review for Religious which, created through him, is charged with his presence. He encounters him in a privileged way in the incarnate Christ, the fullness of the revelation of God. In Christ Ignatius experiences the dynamic of salvation: the descent of the Son into the human situation in order to effect the ascent of humanity into the life and work of God. As mentioned above, Ignatius relates to God not only in his divine unity but also as the divine community of the Holy Trinity. Poverty, which he refers to as a "mother," plays a crucial role in the development of Ignatius's relationship with this community (Constitutions, §287). As Maurice Giuliani opines, he even recognizes it in the Holy Trinity and in each of its members: The poverty of Jesus who does the work of his Father, the poverty of the divine Persons whose richness is the love which they have for each other, the poverty of the creature who wholeheartedly desires "reverence and respect" along with fidelity and service. How could Ignatius, thus interiorly instructed, henceforth choose anything else but this way of material poverty, a visible sign of human poverty vis-a-vis God and participation in the poverty of God himself?.3 Poverty was an ascetical practice for Ignatius. He understood asceticism as the exercise a person undertakes to attain a goal. His understanding of it developed from an integration of the insights of Christian tradition with insights drawn from his own experiences.4 He used it as an aid to his relationship with the Trinity.5 Javier Osuna Gil suggests that one consider Ignatius's understanding of asceticism from three perspectives: (1) as an effort to remove all disorder, all impediment, whatever makes us less free to receive the transforming action of God, who embraces us with his Love; (2) as a task for transforming oneself into an agile and flexible "instrument" of God, 62.4 2003 Maldari ¯ Ignatian Insights into Evangelical Poverty with increasing availability; and (3) as a way of "carrying the cross," the necessary cost of the historical impact between the project of Jesus and the project of this world.6 Ignatius uses ascetical practices in order to promote the disposition of sinners who seek to respond to Jesus' invitation to follow him and to cooperate in his mission.7 The Spiritual Exercises themselves are ascetical in character in that they are means of preparing and disposing our soul to rid itself of all its disordered affections and then, after their removal, of seeking and finding God's will in the ordering of our life for the salvation of our soul. (SpEx §1) They propose to facilitate the self-communication of God to the exercitant (SpEx § 15). In 1544 Ignatius penned a short document titled The Deliberation on Poverty that provides an insight into his discernment regarding the prescriptions on poverty in the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus. In this document one perceives Ignatius's use of evangelical poverty as an ascetical practice intended to promote his relationship with Christ. Manuel Ruiz Jurado distinguishes three motivations for Ignatius's choice of absolute poverty in this text: ascetic-mystical, apostolic, and Christocentric. The ascetic-mystical reasons include the recognition that poverty promotes absolute hope only in God because it separates one from reliance on secular things.8 The apostolic reasons include giving greater edification through example, having freedom to travel in imitation of Christ and the first apostles, whom Christ charged to live in poverty, and relying for consoling hope, not on secular goods, but on God alone.9 The Christocentric reasons include the desire to imitate Christ, who was poor and faced great adversities and who contin

Issue 44.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1985. ; REvtEw Fo~ R ELIGIOUs(ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial uffices are located .at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REVIEW FOR R ELIGIOLIS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1985 by R EV~EW FOR R ELIGtOUS, Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year (postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write REvl[w RELIGIOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel E X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor July/August, 1985 Volume 44 Number 4 Manuscripts, hooks for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to RI:vIEW ~OX RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVlEW FOR R EL~amUS; Room 428; 3601 LindeH Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. ~Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rdo; Ann Arbor, M! 48106. Answering the Call of Christ M. Ingeborg Rohner, 0 S. E This article is based on a,talk given by Mother Ingeborg at the national meeting of the Institute on Religious Life which was held, in Washington D.C. in June of this year. Mother lngeborg is sgrving as provincial of her community,,and resides at St. Francis Convent; 2120 'Central Avenue; Alton, IL 62002. All of us here have heard a great deal in recent years about vocations to the religious life. So very much of what we have been hearing goes under the general heading of "Vocation Crisis~---why the crisis arose, and what we. should be doing about I do not intend here to propose'new analyses to explain, or remedies to resolve this crisis. Rather I would hope,to be able to share simply with you a summation of what we in our community have been doing to foster vocations, and what we have learned from the effort. My primary credential for addressing this subject has been my fourteen years of experience (1970- 1984) as director of novices for my community, du.ring which time I have also been responsible for vocation recruitment. Before sharing these experiences with you, I would like to attempt to give some formulation to the fundamental and evolving understanding of the nature of vocation that I have brought tothis twofold task given to me by my community. I am made the,bolder in this attempt because I find myself in such agreement with the statements of our Holy Father in his apostolic exhortation Redemptionis Donum: "The call to the way of the evangelical counsels springs from the interior encounter with the love of Christ, which is,a°redeeming love. christ calls precisely through this love of his" (n. 3). The Holy Father cites the well-known passage from Mark (10:21), 481 4112 / Review for Religious, 'July-August~ 1985 applying it specifically to the matter of vocation: "And Jesus, looking upon [the young man], loved him." This look--a specifically personal look takes on a spousal character, the Holy Fath, et notes, involving as it does a choice made on the basis of an exclusive love-relationship. The gospel narrative is the basis of my confidence that there will always be vocations to that explicit form of evangelical radicalism which we call religious life. I am confident of this simply and in the final analysis because we have been created for God--and thus created for love. Every vocation has its origin when Love itself--our loving God--looks into the eyes,into the hearts, of those who truly seek h'im. Whenever this happens, the fire of a radical love-response will be enkindied. St. Francis looked once into the ~yes of the Crucified One and under-stood this well. From that moment of encounter, he would cry: "Love is not loved!7 ¯ What .did Francis ,see? He saw what each person who is truly called by Christ sees in some fashion: Infinite. Love reaches out to his creature, and asks for a response of love. And that lo~k, and the response it invokes, in briefest terms, constitutes the "vocation-story" of each and every person . who has ever been called by Christ. Since God is Love, I am called to respond to his love. Pontius Pilate once asked: "What is truth?" Perhaps the question for our time ~ought to be: "What is lo.ve?"--because our modern perceptions of the meaning of love seem so distorted. Especially for us religious is ,thi's question of supreme importance because not only does one's initial call/response, but also to a considerable extent does one's perseverance depend on how one understands the meaning of love. The Meaning of Love ¯ St. Thomas Aquinas has defined love as "velle alicui bonum"---to will (effectively) for another~what is good. In its richest understanding, this definition would seem to include within its comprehension., all efforts, to bring another person alive in some fashion; to make another person full and i'ich; to enable another person to realize the full flowering of his or her potential. . In his.Spiritual,Exercises, St.!gnatius of Loyola noted that authentic love becomes manifest~more in deeds than inwords, that it consists in the exchange of complete mutuality between lovers, insofar as this is possible. Quite evidently what is intended in these simple phrases is a real sharing, not ,merely a: verbal exchangi~-of facile promises. What is intended is a sharing of all that I have and, much more difficult and frightening--and fulfilling--of.~all that I am. Answering the Call of Christ / 483 This is the form of love that is also at the base of that special covenant relationship which we call spousal. In our humhn experience this form of covenant bonding may, perhaps', begin with a kind of fascination, an experience which is not deliberately chosen, but which "happens" to indi-viduals. Yet, when it is authentically human, it ends with a commitment, it ends with a :decision, it ends with a definitive'choice, a choice that-is characterized by the word unconditional, a~ choice which includes as its further limit,forever. " " This is the kind of love that is revealed in the life and being and teaching of Christ. When the Holy Father talks about the love that the religious somehow experiences, to which the religious is called to make a responsei .it is this kind oflove to which he is pointing. It is the love of choice, of commitment, it involves the definitive handing over of oneself. It. is a love, therefore, that ischaracterized by fidelity in the commitment that has been undertaken. ~. The Mystery of V9caf!on ~, A vocation, the call or summons from Christ that isaddressed:to an. individual, involves.a mystery. However it happens, however the.process i~ launched, to whatever moment we point,as marking its "beginning," the more fundamental question ofeach~vocation story yet remains: Whatis it in, me, ,in my personal.history, that has already "set me up" so that 1 become responsive to that particular stimulus, and choose to answer in this particular way? How do I come to perceive that I am called, that I am called to this particular community? ~ ~ ~ " " What.is' it, this mysterious .something, that can bring (o the convent door and entrance into religious life, a person ~who oftentimes, is barely Christian, a person who knows.the proper words, perhaps, but has not yet really heard them, and is not reallylquite sure what they mean--words fis fundamental as: God,-Trinity, Christ, sacraments, Church. Yet. there clear!y is something.thatdraws this particular person to a ;way of life that, she does not know, that she does not understand,, but upon which she is some.how simply willing to embark. How can the response of such a person be a response of love, the unique response to a unique call that is centered upon the ~rson of Christ who is to become her All, when she does not even know, really, who Christ is?0 ' .~. I have witnessed this process, too often to be able to deny it. God, in his goodness, mysteriously touches the soul of such a persrn in a way ihat makes it possible for her to hear him say to tier:~ "You, come and follow me!'?.She, in turn; effectively says: "Who are you?'l don't even know you." 484 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 And he says, in effect: "Come andsee! In time you will know! For now, just come and follow me." And, so very often, this is what she does. And, so very often, this is what actually happens. When the person is responsive, it does happen that, out of such seeming nothingness there can blossom, a genuine vocation. Out of seemingly nothing a :relationship does grow and develop between her person and the person of Christ. A soul content with its God even thus vaguely understood, a soul that is beginning to consider everything else as of little value,is a soul that is opening unto God and to the movements of God within it. And God can and does act on that soul. .In each individual, then, what is of crucial importance to the develop-ment of a vocation are those specific components of .personality which make us to be the individuals that we are, those peculiar sensitivities which make us to bealert and attentive so as to hear God's call in the first place, and tO respond to its gradual unfolding within our life-story. Every vocation is always utterly unique, even as is the person to whom it is addressed. Christ deals with each soul in a vefy~concrete way. The transcript of his dealings with each soul constitutes that person's life-history. It is in the working out Of this life-story 'that different individuals .arrive through so many different paths at the convent door.' It really does not make much difference, .then, what actually brings a person to the convent door. All kinds of influences and incentives can be found to be operative, even today, in bringing this to pass: adolescent hero-worship; distinctiveness of dress or function, a specific career choice, a generous, but barely differentiated impulse to serve. All of these have been operative in the different vocation stories. It really doesn't matter, very much what it is that actually brings a person, to the door. What is of crucial importance for the development of authentic human life within the convent is why the person remains, even though the final coming to terms with this may involve a process of growth that can even require years for its full development. It is the openness to the possibility of such growth that is absolutely required if this life-choice is not to be frustrated. Vocation as aProcess . , Experience has ~convinced me that typically by the time of vows the novice really is in a position to commit herself--if only after a fashion but still effectively--to the way of life that she has chosen for herself. I am not at all sure, though; that every novice, even by the time of vows,-has yet~truly found her vocation, her call, the concrete determinants that will specify her way of responding. The newly professed are often still very far from know- Answering the Call of Christ ing how to, or even being willing to, let God be God in their lives. Even as their director, then, I don't always fully understand how a vocation develops within each individual. I do know we formation people do not cause any vocation to grow. Our office is' to discern, to invite, to clarify matters with the individual. Our task is to maintain an atmosphere that is nurturing, one in which this mystery that is.a vocation can develop. But beyond these forms of enablement we are only bystanders and observers of the developing relationship that takes place between the individuaiand her God. Vocation, then, is a process. It is not an instant product. It is a Very ,gradual process, one that has a beginning and a middle, but there is no identifiable end-point to its development in this world. I don't know how, or even that the process is going on day after day--even in my own soul--except by looking back, by recognizing in retrospect how he has brought me, in ways that I don't often understand, to ~xperience him in ways that I could not predict; and he has done this not according to any plan of mine, but according to his own free determinations. Christ does not normally call saints tO religious life. Normally he calls d~velol6ing, limited human persons who are willing, even if inconsistently so, to become saints. He calls them to enter upon a lifelong enterprise with him. ~And herein, it seems tome, lie the essence and the theology of religious vocation. The Vocation "to Be" "In the 50s, 60s and 70s, and even into the 80s, we religious had been putting a great deal of emphasis in our vocational literature on the works that we do. We used to advertise constantly the service that our congrega-tions were doing "for Christ": teaching, nursing, social work, and so forth. And we invited young people to join us in those enterprises, But, especially today, sooner or later there must arise the question: "But why be a religious? I can do all these works 'for Christ' as a lay person." And that, of course, is quite true! This is the reason why 1 personally atiach such great importance to a theme that our Holy Father, John Paul II, has been trying so very hard, and in such a variety of ways to emphasize, as he also does in Redemptionis Donum: What religious are is of far greater.importance than what religious do. Our vocation is a call to be, more than it is a call to do. "Doing," .of course, is going to follow out of that call, out of that "being~" But the call to religious life is a call to be! This is a theme of such great importance, one which we in formation work must find ways of communicating convincingly to our young people. 4116 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 This is the understanding of vocation that' has influenced so strongly what we in our community and province have been doing in our vocational ministry. But enough o.f theory! Let us pass, now, to facts regarding our com-munity and its experience of the past fourteen years of exercising this ministry. A Summary of Our Congregation Worldwide, the total number of sisters in our congregation is 1,917. Our motherhouse is in Germany; we also have provinces in-Holland, Japan, Indonesia, Africa, and America (including a rapidly developing mission in Brazil). In descending order, our largest novitiates are located in Germany, USA, Brazil, and Indonesia. The combined American province includes all of the United States, as well as Brazil. ~The mission in Brazil, now twelve years old, includes seven stations and hasa rapidly growing novitiate and postulancy. The total ,population of,our, combined province is 134 sisters, with an ave.rage age of 28. For the United States proper these figures are 10! sisters, whose aver~age age is 31 years. It is about this segment of our province that I propose now to comment. In my tenure as director of novices (1970-84), 101 you.ng women entered our 6ommunity. Fifty-five of this number remain in the community while, all told, forty-six have left. Of those fifty-five sisters, sixteen are in first formation, twenty-four are. junior-professed, and fifteen are sisters with final vows. Statistics on ThoJe Who Have Left the Community : 26 individuals left as postulants: 18 chose to leave 8 were asked ! 1 sisters left as noyices: 6 chose to leave 5 were asked 8 sisters left as juniors: 7, chose to leave, I was asked 1 finally professed sister chose to leave. Hopefully the fundamental motivation of the fifty-five sisters wh'o remain in our community is clear: these are women who want to continue on the way they have chosen, the way of learning how to return love for Love, life for Life, and, with his grace, they will persevere in this course that they' have Chosen. ' Reasons for Departure Regarding those who have left our community, the discoverable reasons for., their departure are manifold. Almost a fifth of these women were found to be afflicted ,with some incapacitating mental illness. Sometimes it is the pressure of convent living which brings such to the surface. Answering the Call of Christ / 487 Doubtless~in. some instances the potential for this factor should hax?e been discovered prior to admission--and we are getting better at this important task. On the other hand, our candidates come from all over (he continent, and in the practical order it is difficult to have sufficient time with them for the successful identification of every latent illness. ~ ' In "a few instances, those who departed from our community finally yielded tO' faniily pressure. It takes ~ourage and at times a great deal:o~" stamina to'live out the Gospel imperatives which demand that one' lbave family and all things else in order to be a disciple of Christ. "Whoever puts tiis hand to the plow but keeps looking back is unfit for the reigfi of Grd" (Lk 9:62). In these instances, apparently, the faith of the individual was hot strong enough to withstand the pressure generated by the drain of the contrary feelings experienced in the face of familial displeasure. In yet other instances, ianguage barriers and transcultural trauma affected the outcome of admission. Perhaps in these instances I was naiv~ in not assigning greater weight to the difficulty that such factors would briiag to the formation experience when I accepted into the novitiate per-sons too recently arrived in this country, or too recently con{,erted to the Church. Chastity, too, is a source of a variety of problems, the basic remedy of which remains the same. St. John, the virgin apostle resting on tl~e bosom of Christ, remains the symbol of th~ love-relationship which must develop ¯ between the consecrated celibate and God. Its absolute necessity li~s been evidenced again and again in my experience. What is at issue here is not the maintenance of some form of sterile virginity,_ but the hurturing of a "garde~a well protected," of a "secret place" reservbd for the One Bridegroom to whom th~ individual has pledged herself, whom she has chogen for herself. There is room as well of course! for the 1rye-experience of a Mary Magdalene, who knew ho~, ~o love totally because she knew how to love ardently. Bfit no~mally virginity tl~rown carelessly away, or purity held. cheaply does not provide fertile soil for the growth of true love. So it was that about a fifth of thosewho departed from our community had been 'playing (I chose the term' deliberately) with sex, 6yen while still among us, apparently~ scar~:ely realizing the gravity of their actions against their own lives and hopes, as well as against God, the community, and the larger society. Lacking in genuin~ interior discipline, they often seemed weakened in spirit to the point of no longer even recognizing or desiring their ~:rnsecrated chastity as a positive value. ~ Theexperience of being sex.ually abused in childhood was fi fact~,r in a few instances of those Whose leaving was partly motivated by the demands of "41~11 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 chastity. I know that often in such Eases something effective can be done-- because I have seen it happen. In these instances, however, we were-not able to find that "something." In regard to the need for friendship in religious life and our natural hunger for human love, a spiritualdirector once said: "Don't give yourself to love unless you have given up love." In some cases this principle appar-ently was not grasped, or, if grasped,' was not accepted. There was one clear instance of lesbianism. But evidence of immaturity and an excessive sensu-ality in the quest for intimacy seemed to be operative in other cases. The "Third Way" is no longer considered "in." But there has lingered a misun-derstood desire for friendship leading to relationships which prove to be actually counter-productive, stifling genuine interest in growing or even maintaining a spiritual life. Eventually some individuals were asked to leaye. ¯ Perseverance Reflecting upon the experience we have had with all those who have left our community, I have come to the conviction that if "vocation" is a mystery, perseverance in one's vocation is no less so. I have wondered how applicable, in certain of these instances, might be the suggestion contained in Bonhoeffer's phrase: some were "hoping to live by 'cheap grace.'" St. Paul wrote: "You have been purchased, and at a price!"(l Co 6:20). It is the cross of Christ that is the purchase price of our redemption. There isjusi no cheap or easy way to give my life back to him in the daily lived response of my love. ~ A very evident problem of our time is that of perseverance in one's commitment. The young people Who join us come from.a society that is geared to the expectation of instant results. Their expe, ctation is real, even if its fulfillment is beyond the realm of the possible. There is no such thing in real life corresponding to what is longed for in our "instant society,." bu~t they have been taught that the dream is real, and they have. bought into the dream. And the dream undermines their seriousness of purpose and their constanc~ in commitment. The young people who come to us have spent a tremendous proportion of their lives before a TV screen. Formation persons .should look at TV from time to time specifically to remind themselves of the surrounding culture out of which their young charges have come. They might look specifically to see what has been so formative in the lives of today's young people. Perhaps as formative as the shows and movies of TV is the constant repetition of the message of easy success and instant gratification that is communicated in the flow of advertising. All commercials, it seen/s, prom- Answering the Call of Christ ise in one fashion or other instant satisfaction, immediate relief from pain, the effective remedy to every discomfort, success in business, wealth beyond measure, the guarantee of the deepest and most enduring of interpersonal relationships--parenting as well as r.omantic--all of which attractive goals are to be won by th~ use of mere products. The key to Prince Charming's Success lies in a tube of toothpaste; a lozenge guarantees success in meeting the girl of one's dreams--and effort-lessly living happily ever after! Oh, no one consciously, knowingly assumes such patently absurd attitudes. But attitudinal formation is seldom conscious and knowing. And so they come to us, the young, with their expectation of "instant holiness" as well! They really do anticipate immediate and unending union with God, constant consolation in prayer, gratification in work, an imme-diate perception of the worthwhileness of whatever they are doing. They really do look forward to finding heaven on earth in the convent. They really do anticipate living out their days 'with lovable and loving compan-ions, within the walls of perfect, ready-made Eommunities. And the pain of disillusionment is heavy indeed. Our young people today need a great deal more attention and care, counseling and encouragement, and affirmation ~than did our generations of a simpler age. In my own novitiate, there was one director for l I0 novices. Today we offer the young much, much more help--both from within the community, through the greater number of persons assigned to the work of formation, ahd through reliance on a variety of outside resour-ces as well. Yet there is no sure or magic remedy for solving all problems. There is no structure, no system that can guarantee perseverance, l can no mo~e guarantee my fidelity to my vocation than I can guarantee my salvation. The strength that I need can only be found in him who~called me, and in ¯ his acceptance of my self:gift. Left to myself, then, 1 could not guarantee even today. But relying on him, I have confidence that, even if I should fail today, he, the Faithful One of Israel, will raise me up again; he will make up for my infidelity. I know this to be true because I have experienced it to be so in my own life, and I have witnessed it to be so in ~the lives of so many others. I have experienced and I have seen that he uses our weaknesses, even as he uses our strengths, in order to fastiion the persons he loves and calls into being. Apart from him, because of my own experience of being human, I know I could not promise him "forever." With him, I could hope to do so because he accepts my promise, and in accepting my promise he pledges himself to be my enablement. 490 / Review for Religious, July, August, 1985 Another source of unrest, a negative influence on t.he possibility of perseverance for the young today, is the emphasi.s that our culture places on feelings. Faith is not. a matter of feelings, but of trust and decision. Young people, however, tend to base their decisions largely on fedings. If I feel good, what I am about is all right. If I feel bad, then I made a wrong decision, and should simply change my situation. 'This is also perhaps the greatest source of failed commitment in our society today--witness our soaring divorce rate. A vocation is the source of a developing relationship .between persons. It is a personal encounter, one on one, and involves the personal experience of the redeemi ~ng love,invitation of Christ and the personal response made by the individual, an integral person, made up of a very concrete body and a very part~c~ular soul. Christ does not extend his invitation to an. abstrac-tion, nor is a stereotype capable of making a personal response. A vocation, then, is always deeply involved with concrete, historical specificity--which means that it has to do with an individual ~with a very particular history, wiao is Composed of very specific wrinkles and warts, Stains and blemishes, the sum of all his or her shortcomings as well as of his or her assets, which, all combined, constitute the existential reality, that is the object of the choice Christ made when he said to the individual: "Come!" .~ I don't know for certain that all the forty-six young women who left our community during those fourteen years did not have a call from God to the religious life. I don't know--whether through their fault or mine--a real vocation was lost in one or other instance. On the other hand, there is also the Gospel story to consider of the man from Gerasa out of whom Christ drove unclean spirits. This man, too, wanted to follow Christ, but he was told: "Go home to your family, and make it clear to them how much the Lord in his mercy has done for you." (Mk 5:19). Whatever the result of such a reflection, ,every departure from the convent works some hardship on the community as well.as on the individual. There is always some degree of tension and an experience of sorrow sur-rounding every departure. ~ And so by tile end of my tenure in office, I became much more careful in screening candidates, both for their sake and for ours. Even so, when novices or postulants leave I am not overly concerned. Their coming, after all, was for the ~ke of a testing. But St.~ Paul says: ":God's gift and his call are irrevocable!" And so it would seem that, once a call has been confirmed by the acceptance of her vows in the .Ch, urch, the individual making profession should be able to persevere in her commitment ~with the help of God's grace. Every departure of a professed sister leaves me uneasy, questioning, most especially if the sister be finally professed. I Answering the Call of Chris~ / 491 do grieve over each such departure--~ven as, at times, 1 can recognize its inevitability. Who Is Accepted? Understanding vocation in the way I have outlined obviously is going to have ramifications on our attitudes and on procedures we devise for receiving young women into our community. On principle, any girl who applies will be,given serious consideration. This principle is based, not on what some might call the "warm body syndrome," but on the conviction that God is generous with his grace, and that we in our turn must be eager to identify, nurture and celebrate the gift of this grace--which is a ,voca-tion- whenever and wherever we find it. Our openness to the discovery of vocations must be a very active openness. ~ 'Thus it :is that we have accepted girls of vastly varied backgrounds and conditions into our community. We have accepted graduates fight out of high school, provided that they have reached their eighteenth .birthday. We have accepted ~some young women with incomplete college experience, as we have accepted others with undergraduate and graduate degrees. In fact, we have accepted two women who came to us with Ph.D.'s. And we have also accepted candidates coming to us from a variety of other backgrounds in the kind and length of the work experience they bring. For myself, and experience has convinced me of this, I belie~,e that criteria,based on age and education or the length of work experience play but relatively little part in helping us to discern a ,readiness on the part of a candidate to answer Christ's call to religious life. The ideal candidate pos, sesses, obviously, a readiness and a capacity to love--and to give her life entirely to Christ, Such a person will always have some intuitive perception that this includes embracing his cross as well; involving the need for self-denial. The presence of such traits in some degree, surely, is what identifies who is clearly ready to enter into religious life. But sufficient for entrance also, other things being equal, can be simply a willingness to be generous. The desi~:e or need to be a caring person can be enough to warrant the beginning of the process of discerning a vocation, hence ultimately, perhaps, of admitting a candidate into religious life, In short, I remain firm in the.conviction that the seed of vocation is to be found in very simple soil, that God is, indeed, generous with his gift of the charism of vocation among his People.ol~believe that I find support for this conviction in the. injunction addressed by St. Paul to the Church of Corinth: ~ Brothers, consider ygur situation. Not many of you are wise, as men account wisdom, not many are influential; and Surely, not many are well- 492 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 born. God chose those whom the world considers absurd to shame the wise; he singled out the weak of this world to shame the strong. He chose the world's lowborn and despised, those who count for nothing, to reduce to nothing those who were something; so that mankind can do no boasting before God (1 Co 1:26-29). All of us who have answered Christ's call are carrying a precious treasure in "earthen vessels." We are all fragile and limited. In point of fact, it is precisely persons of the sort that Paul describes who do answer, and have always answered, the call of Christ. Do young people today prefer, or look.for "traditional" communities? At first glance it might seem that they do; the facts seem to suggest this conclusion. But being "traditional" of itself will not attract or keep new members in a community. As for our own congregation, 1 hope and pray that it would be our love for God and his Christ, our love for the Church, our joyful service of God's People, our constant endeavor to overcome our sinfulness, our desire to live in community, and, perhaps most of all, our evident awareness of who we are and what we are trying to accomplish with our lives, with the help of his grace--that these are what constitute our attractiveness and the effec-tiveness of our invitation to young people to come be with us, and to strive with us to do the same. The procedure we follow in establishing and maintaining contact with potential candidates is simplicity itself. We have very modest advertisements in a few publications; there is word of mouth; and to some extent there is theinfluence of our few institutions. These are the sourcesofjust about all of our initial contactg. But, whatever the source, every contact is taken very seriously, and every individual who makes contact receives individual, consistent--and even persistent--attention. The sisters who undertake this labor of maintaining personal contact have made lasting friendships beyond the circle of' those who actually became candidates, who actually entered. This, in barest outline, is our entire procedure of vocation-re-cruitment. There will always be vocations to the radical living of the Gospel, just as there will always be people who would "dare to let God be God'in their lives." The seriousness and the respect with which we treat every initial contact is based on this assumption. , Surely we live in times that are hard for religious life. Of course we are aware that throngs of young people are not beating on convent doors seeking entrance. Yet we ought not to abandon hope as though God were not Lord. This difficult age is the time into which you and I are born by ,God's Answering the Call of Christ / t193 holy will. And we always seek to embrace this holy will. We have to pray, to sacrifice, and to surround with tender, but also with effective care, those whom God has called and entrusted to us. We have to make earnest efforts to find these young people and to invite them to continue the project of religious life into the future, not for the sake of maintaining a community or an institution, but that God's grace.might continue to be evidenced to a world that is hungry for our witness, and that his kingdom might be enfleshed in our time, too--in accordance with his most holy will. Speaking to seminarians in 1979, our Holy Father said: It is worth dedicating oneself to the cause of Christ, who wants valiant and decided hearts . It is worth making an option for an ideal that will give you great joys, even if at the same time it demands a good many sacrifice!! May those who have received the gift of a call to this life and service take these words into their hearts with courage and joy! "It is worth it!"---as we all here today know so well. Trinitarian Image Let us make man to our image and likehess (Gn 1:26). The Father's image: creating, loving, providing; Dimmed by destroying, not caring, denying. The Son's image: compassionate, patient, self-immolating; Blurred by indifference, impatience, self-seeking. The Spirit's image: sanctifying, consoling, strengthening; Marred by debasing, neglectihg, undermining. Dimmed, blurred, marred By life's harsh ways, Unexpectedly, breathtakingly revealed By mankind suffering. Sister Catharine Consilii, S.S.J. 17 ! I Race St. Philadelphia, PA 19103 Facing the Future: Formation in Apostolic Spirituality Patricia Spillane, M.S. C. Our readers will recognize Sister Spillane as the author of"From Tablet to Heart: In-ternalizing New Constitutions," which appeared in the issues of July/August and September/October, 1982, and which is still available as a single reprint. Sister, a 'Missionary of the Sacred Heart, is a novice director for her community, and is involved in "Philadelphia's very ac~tive inter-community formation program." She may be addressed at the Sacred Heart Novitiate; 67th and Callowhill Streets; Philadelphia, PA 19151. As theologians, spiritual writers, and religious leaders struggle with the attempt to define and clarify apostolic spirituality---especially as it is emerging today among American men and women religious--we, as minis-ters of formation, have a special problem. ~There are fifteen years remaining until 2000 A.D. During these years, how are we to fulfdl our responsibilities to our congregations, to the Church, arid to the wrrld in helping to form men and women who are ready for the adventure and challenge of apostolic religious life? Some of us may be tempted to ignore the challenge before us, maintain-ing a style of formation that certainly worked in the past, but may not prepare persons for the reality they must face in the next fifteen years. Others of us may see so much flux about us that we may decide that "mainstreaming" is the best approach to formation, and so fail to provide the basic core of stability necessary for religious and human development. How do we avoid these two extremes? I am sure that all of us will spend the closing years of this millennium in seeking adequate responses to that question. 494 Formation in Apostolic Spirituafity / 495 In these pages I would like to focus on some characteristics of our emerging apostolic spirituality, and offer some tentative formational guidelines: To begin with, it seems to me: Apostolic religious are called to be evangelizers in an environment that it " increasingly de-structured and stressful. This calls for greater maturity in ' both religious identity and personal identity. Apostolic Religious Are Called to Be Evangelizers , If we are to be, and to form, men and woman of and for the Church, we are called to form evangelizers since: ° Evangelizing is in fact the grace and vocation proper to the Church, her deepest identity,. She exists in order to evangelize.~ Therefore, beyond any professional skills with which men and women come to religious life today, and the professional formation ,.we may subse-quently giv~e them, there must be a primary commitment to .the central mission of evangelization. Whether a Young religious is destined io. be a DRE, a parish social minister, a CEO in a large hospital, or a Dean of Students in an academic environment, he or she must be primarily an eWhgelizer within any given structure or situation. , To prepare persons to become evahgelizers calls for a twofold thrust. On'the one hand, We need to motivate them for their o,wn ongoing spiritual journey: [they] have a constant need ~f being evangelizqdthemselves, if [they] wish to retain freshness, vigor, and strength in order to proclaim the Gospel (EN 15). On the other hand, we need to encourage personal maturation in them of the human foundation on which the spiritual Can build the maturation in self-awareness and capacity for discernment which is so essential for mission and evangelization. For example, we need to help persons in formation to recognize their own tendency to hide behind a role, or profes-sional structure, .or human efficiency instead of dealing directly with the risky business that evangelization can be. Not only must they be in an evangelizing stance with those to whom they minister, but even more importantly, also with their lay collabora"tors and peers. Often those who can easily minister to students, patients, or parish families are threatened when called upon to address those same issues with faculty, staff, pastoral associates, and others. If our religious institutions are to remain viable into the third millennium, this evangelization of staff is even more essential. As formators of apostolic religious, we need to help men and women in 496 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 initial formation to grow in the strength and clarity of their personal religious identity so that they can face the anxiety-provoking and risky challenges of evangelization at all levels. In becoming aware of who they really are and who they are called to be, young religious can move away from defensively using comfortable positions and allow themselves to be confronted by the unsettling demands of evangelization. Similarly, those who have become Comfortable with evangelization need to be flexible enough to respond ~to the needs of the congregation within its institutiom, see the evangelical possibilities in that setting, and not cling to situations that may be' more personally satisfying. A growing capacity for mobility and flexibility--for realistic adjustments to the demands of the apostolate; .congregation, and Church--is essential for apostolic religious formation. Otherwise, we run the risk of always having to adjust the apostolate, congregation and Church to the demands of the individual. In an Environment That Is Increasingly De-structured In many congregations, much of the pre-Vatican II system of a well-or-dered religious life regulated by stated norms and given structures has disappeared. However, the need for personal and group order remains. What has replaced the external structures and systems? A vacuum? Chaos? Peer pressure? Ideally, we would like to think that it has been replaced by individuals who have the cap~icity to structure themselves and make deci-sions about external structures that are both human .and value-oriented. But since experience teaches us that this does not happen automatically, what are we doing as formators to foster the'development of such individ-uals? Are we providing people in initial formation with sufficient opportu-nity to make their own decisions, build up their own "structures, and then reflect on how those decisions and structures promote their formation?' The decrease in numbers of personnel has also contributed to destruc-turing. Men and women entering religious life today must be ready to enter into smaller communities; they may be the sole religious in a school, clinic or agency. Again, this requires a different style of relating, a greater facility in communicating with different .types of people. Religious need to be much more independent, while at the same time committed to the value and process.of community-building. Hence the identities of which I have already spoken must include the'capacity for both autonomy and intimacy in the kind of religious life that can move ahead to the millennium. The decrease of religious structures also means that we do not live surrounded by visible reminders of our faith, but in an increasingly secular-ized world. Consumerism, professionalism, self-actualization can appeal to our emotional needs and dull that faith vision of who we are and what we Formation in Apostolic Spirituality / 497 ¯ are called to be in the world for others. People coming into religious life (and those already present!) can bring with them a real confusion between their needs and values, colored and encouraged by a society of which they are a part. To be able to distinguish clearly between what is emotionally attractive and what is consonant with the Gospel requires a process of human and spiritual integration that takes time and skill. However, with-out it, apostolic discernment can flounder, our faith vision can be distorted in the service of ourselves, and we can substitute our personal preferences for the Gospel .of Christ. In An Environment That Is Increasingly Stressful Change, work, pressure, being too alone, being too close--all of these can prove threatening to different individuals at different times, producing stress and tension. While a certain amount of life-stress is inevitable and should be an impetus for growth, certain kinds and levels of stress tear at the very fabric of apostolic religious life. Naturally, we will experience the tension of renunciation between our own needs and Gospel values if we are trying to follow the Lord, but he rarely asks us to labor passively under continuous stress. Persons differ in their capacity to withstand stress and in their ways of coping with it. Some carry such an inner burden of conflict that hardly any external pressure is needed before they feel any stress; these may be the same persons who have never developed effective coping mechanisms to deal with the normal tensions of life. Others may unconsciously deny the inner effects of external pressure--only to end up ulcerated, aggravated or acting out in inappropriate ways. People in early stages of religious life development need to have a good handle on their inner stress patterns and coping mechanisms so that they will be able to face the realistic difficulties ahead of them. Unrealistic expectations of future community and mission need to be encountered and dealt with one by one, along with an understanding of what inner factors interact with external difficulties to make stress reach intolerable levels. The years of initial formation would seem to be an excellent time for dealing with inner tensions, so that later these may not be the source of distortion, projection and unnecessarily high tension in the community and mission. For example, someone who expects community to be far more nurturing than it can or should be may need help to understand what factors in them produce such a,need-expectation for support, affirmation and comfort. Another who expects community assignments to enhance her own profes-sionalism must confront why her inner security and self-esteem are so 4911 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 shaky. Both kinds: of situations produce frustration and stress that can. easily become intolerable unless they can begin to be defused :by one ,who understands both the person and the values of the congregation. Since so many religious congregations .are .in a state of bridging between, the past that is still with us and a future that breaks out here and there, we need to address with those in formation those realistic sources of tension that are built into our current state of religious life; i.e., tensions ~that may be generated by: -living with religious who are threatened by or resentful of change; -being the only religious ministering in a particular institution; -having assumed too much work and too ~much responsibility and more. We need to be able to deal with the stress inherent in forging ahead, which always involves leaving behind: -leaving behind familiar patterns of living and working, to risk the new and unfamiliar in an effort to respond to God's people; -enduring Separation from friends and loved ones. to move to areas where the need is greatest; -leaving behind our own concepts of ministry to be able to. listen and respond to what the community is asking; -"letting go" of consumer comforts that we can use to,assuage our tensions and pain. All of this indicates that we should not be passive victims of stress, but active collaborators in seeking to integrate and hear what the Lord is saying behind or through each tension. As formation ministers, we cannot expect to help others unless we ourselves have dealt with our own stress issues:- the stress of unrealistic expectations from the community, of dis-agreements with those in authority, of our own sense of inadequacy in facing certain problems, of our own reluctance to confront certain individ- Uals or situations. All 'of these create stress; as a :result.we may try to avoid or deny .the problem; repress our anger and depression, somatize our difficulties, or displace upon otherskand never provide the modeling in stress management that young people in. formation need to see in us. Maturity in Religious Identity The 1983 document of the International Union of Superiors General on Apostolic Spirituality maintains that living a truly apostolic religious life calls for "bold initiatives, constancy in self-giving,0and humility in adversity.~2 Such a challenge can only be met on the solid foundation of an integrated life where religious identity has gradually consolidated and merged with personal identity. As the same document reminds us: "Grace Formation in Apostolic Spirituafity / 499 presupposes nature, is grafted onto it, and ennobles it" (AS 9). (Actually it is :misleading to speak of these two identities as separate, but for discussion .purposes, I.~will look at them sequentially.) Religious identity is not a matter of religious enthusiasm or intellectual curiosity, of certain behaviors, practices or opinions. It is the result of a slow process that occurs where someone (whose personal identity has already crystallized to some extent)gradually surrenders to the Lord, stage by stage and step by step, in a context of growing relationship. Often in very young persons or those whose identities are poorly formed for many reasons, :a cloak of religious appearances may cover up the underlying emptiness. In some religious communities, this may take the form of exter-nal conformity and going along with the group; in other communities it may take :the form of using all the right phrases, being involved in all the current issues. However, this pseudo-religious front (which is unconscious to the person) may mask a lack of genuinereligious struggles and personal convictions, of hard.won growth in prayer and faith over the years. It is possible for one whose identity is weak or confusedto join a group that promises a clear picture of who the person is supposed to be. Religious identity is then "put on" as an external garment, rather than being slowly built up from within~. Certainly, religious identity calls for transformation in Christ, but it would seem that normally Christ looks for someone who already t~ in order to enter into transforming dialogue, A pseudo~religious identity will always be looking for external clues in ambiguous community and ministerial situations. He or she will be seeking security along familiar and well-trodden paths. On the contrary, a trans-formed .personal identity will be one that can risk, dare, step out (if even in .only hidden and small ways), He or she will be taking small steps toward the "profound interiority" (AS 20) which alone can see the world with a transforming gospel vision. Only one who is maturing humanly and spirit-ually can enter into genuine ~relationship with the Lord, allowing defenses to. crumble until one stands naked and loved before him. From that matu-ration comes the kind of compassion for other~ and "apostolic love" (-AS 17) that is .the hallmark of apostolic spirituality. How do we promote this process as religious formators? First of all, we must be in .touch with our own faith journey over the years, seeing the various phases of our own maturing in fidelity--as well as being willing to confront those infidelities 'with which we still struggle. Only in that way can we trust .our own intuitions about the maturation in faith of those with whom we work. -~ Secondly, we must insure that "religious identity" is not being Used defensively by identification with religious structures, works or lifestyle.We 500 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 must look to see if the entering person has sufficiently consolidated a sense of self so that grace can build upon nature~ Thirdly, we must remember that religious and human development are intertwined and actively encourage people in formation to get integrated professional help to resolve the inconsistencies that ma3) hamper the development of their voca-tion. Fourthly, we should continue to'provide experiences throughout the formative period where our men and women in formation have the oppor-tunity to struggle with their own religious beliefs, practices and values alone or with less support than they would like. This may sound~cruel, but if they are always surrounded by an environment that is protective of their values, they may be unconsciously only complying for the sake of rewards or punishments, or identifying for the sake of belonging to the. group. (Of .course, we have to be able to provide the hdp to process the experience and support them through the difficulties.) Unless young people find themselves occasionally in situations devoid of rewards or group support, how will they ever know if they have.internalized the value for the sake of the Lord they profess to follow? Whereas a pseudo-religious identity is based on compliance and identification, a genuine religious identity is based on internalization of gospel values that are uniquely appropriated by the indi-vidual within the context of a loving relationship with Christ that extends outward to the community and to the world.4 In an environment where the external structures and norms supporting compliance have disappeared, often we can search for like-minded groups that will support our choices and values. This is one of the reasons why identification with community is so strong among people entering religious life today. Identification is a normal stage for someone entering religious life, but that stance needs to mature and grow. At best, identification is a temporary solution on the road to forging a more mature religious identity that can both walk alone and be with others during the next fifteen years. For example, someone could have identified with a social justice group that provided significant formative influence and support for his emerging identity. While that is a good departure point for a ministry to the poor, sooner or later the person needs to face deeper issues in himself; e.g., perhaps how his anger when his work is not appreciated has more to do with his own conflicts than with his love forthe poor, or how his generosity wanes when his companions move onto another field. A preferential option for the poor needs to be at the service of the poor--not at the service of one's own needs for approval or esteem, or as an expression of one's narcissism or displaced aggression. The poor and emarginated. deserve the best we can give them--the persevering self-less labor of one willing to lay down his life because he has truly understoodand internalized Formation in Apostolic Spirituafity / 501 Jesus' attraction to the powerless and oppressed. We can help people to grow to that point of self-less giving--and often the best place to start ourselves is by embracing the often thankless, frustrating, and lonely posi-tion that is ours as ministers in the service of formation. Maturing in Personal Identity I have already mentioned several components of emerging personal identity that strengthen and consolidate the human foundation that the Lord draws to himself: -the ability to structure oneself in a meaningful and integrated way; -the ability to handle internal and external stress; -the capacity to internalize gospel values which provide a dynamic motivational source. There are many ways in which personal identity interfaces with religious identity, but I would like to mention only one additional factor because of its significance for evangelization--i.e., that maturing in personal identity transforms one's manner of relating to others. Maturing in personal identity is intertwined with the process of individ-uation-- that struggle whereby an individual moves away from either an overly-dependent position of symbiosis or cohesion with another (or group)--or from an overly-independent position of aloofness or distance. Obviously evangelization suffers whenever the evangelizer is fixated at one or another of these levels. But the emerging personality is also being deprived (although the person would not feel it that way!)~ither because the person is too fearful to withstand the necessary experience of being alone--or too fearful to interact--and therefore is effectively deprived of that enriching and maturing stretching that the threatposes. It is through facing and dealing with such initially threatening alternatives (between being with or being without another) that each person rtioves along the individuation spectrum to where autonomy begins to be possible--where someone is personally secure enough to "go it alone" when the Lord calls for that in different apostolic or communitarian situations--while at the same time, retaining a genuine capacity for interaction and dialogue. Thus true autonomy and intimacy are fruits of the long journey towards personal identity for the apostolic religious--characteristics which-.can make them servants of the Lord and of the Church--instead of being bogged down in their own fears and resistances.5 We would be foolish to expect people in formation to have completed this passage. More realistically, we need to recognize the individuals who are dependently enmeshed in relationships that are more dependent than intimate (as well as have the courage to recognize when we ourselves are 509 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 caugh~tA in that bind !), and then lovingly and persistently confront through all the stages of denial and resistance that. follow. Similarly, we need to approach the more disengaged person and persuadg them with time and patience to begin to enter into relationship. In this way, the journey of a thousand miles towards genuine autonomy and intimacy, if it has not already begun by the time of entrance, can do so, with singlebut significant steps ,in the right direction, at the beginning of religious life. Formational Implications Many.formational implications have already been noted in the course of this article. Le me crystallize a few others under two headings: Formation Personnel: If we accept ~he thesis that we need strong religious and human identities to be ev~angelizers in a de-structured and stressful world, then we first have to address these issues for ourselves as formators. How do we as formation personnel deal with prioritizing our own time and energies, with managing our own stress reactio.ns, strugglin~g with our own issues of personal and religious identity? What are we doing for our own perso.nal and spiritual growth processes? How can we understand and empathize with people in formation if we are "detached ~pectators" observ-ing. their struggles from some safe distance or if we are only aware of them on some intellectual level, having,nev~er allowed ourselves to ,get in touch with our own.feelings and our own sense of ourselves? How can we be companions to_those on the formative journey unless we have jou~eyed and been ~accompani~ed ourselves? Obviously there is need for training programs for formation person.nel bu, t, not all.prggrams deal with the issues of personal integration of which.I am speak, ing. It would seem to me that each formator needs to make decisions about where and how he or she will receive this,kind of personal integrating assistance, .so as to be a disciple for the Church and the world by .the turn of the century. Persons in Initial Formation: . Much fine work has.been written concerning spiritual learning and direction _in t,he pre-novitiate, and juniorate programs which needs not be repeated here. However, the issue of how human formation ,interacts with spiritual development.-~-sometimes to enhance.and sometimes toimpede is often a more difficult one for formation personnel. !n recent years, there has been much interest in "readiness criteria" for various stages of formation which include elements, of both religiousand personal identity; for example Formation in Apostolic Spirituality /'503 Giallanza and ~Gleason's concern for comfort with affectivity, personal independence, social comfort, generosity.6 It would seem that apostolic religious life calls for some degree of actualization of ttiese areas prior to entrance, as well. as reliable indications of capacity to continue to grow in .those directions. How can this be addressed.'? ,~ It would seem that one way would be for the congregation to be in dialogue with the professional doing psychological' testing, indicating ahead of time to the psychologist what are their areas of concern for their religious life and apostolate. Specific feedback can then be requested in these areas concerning the person being tested. The psychologist should be able, through depth interviewing, projective and non-projective testing, to assess the strengths and weaknesses of the applicant, to indicate their capacity to grow and mature in the needed areas and under what circum-stances- e.g., spiritual direction, delaying entrance, growth therapy, work experience, etc. In addition to providing feedback on the person's strengths and weaknesses, a psychologist who is a religious may also offer a perspec-tive on how mature the persbn's religious values seem to be. Feedback to the individual is essential so that the assessment can chal-lenge the person to work with formation personnel on their growing edge. There should be also the possibility of further ongoing help so that, ~by ,growing in self-awareness, the individual may free himself or herself more for the kingdom and the great work of evangelizat.ioh to be dofie in the Church. Another equally important component of maturing identity for ~pos-tolic religious life is apostolic experience, carefully planned and monitored to allow the individual to experience the joys and frustrations, challenges and monotonies of missi6n. However, apostglic experience can eithe'r be a tool for grov~h or an occasion of disillusionmeiat and bitterness, dependihg on how aware the persons are of their own tend.encies, of the apostolic reality that lies before them, and of how much help they have had, prior and during, .to process the experience.7 Finally, I think it is important for people entering religious life to gee that we are all engaged in the same struggle and that we, as professed, take our own ongoing formation as seriously as we do initial. In that way, they can have more realistic expectations of where they should be along the continuum of religious life as they move to final profession--and how much the work of maturing in apostolic religious life is the journey of a lifetime. The document on Apostolic Spirituality maintains that: The integration of prayer and action., is a gradually evolving and quite often a falteringly progressive experience. However falteringly, if lived in 504 / Review'for Religious, July-August, 1985 sincere response to God's ongoing call and constantly molding action, it giv~es rise to that Christ-mindedness which should characterize the true apostle (AS 45). Men End women in initial formation need to feel that they are partners with us in the same "falteringly progressive experience." We accompany each other on this passage into Christ-mindedness, steadfastly encouraging ,those who are pilgrims with us along the way. NOTES ~Paul Vl. On Evangelization in the Modem World, Dec., 1975 no. 14. 2"Theological Reflections on Apostolic Religious Life." Molinari; Ewen, Vallejo. USIG Bulletin, no. 62, 1983. (This document was also printed under the same title in Review for Religious, Jan/Feb, 1984.) Hereafter referred to as AS. ~For a more extensive treatment of the interrelationship between human and spiritual development, see: Joyce Ridick, S.S.C., 71"easures in Earthen Vessels: the Vows. Sthten Island: Alba House, 1984. 4For more discussion on the relationship between compliance, identification and inter-nalization in ~:eligious life, see: Luigi Rulla, S,J, Depth Psychology and Vocation. Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1971, esp. pp. 146-152, 307-318. ~For further discussion on the role of identity in religious life, see: Patricia Spillane, M.S.C., "Called to Be Both Loyal and Prophetic," In-Formation, May, 1982. 6Joel Giallanza, C:S.C., and John Gleason, C.S.C., "Reflections on Initial Formation," Human Development, Fall, 1984. 7patricia Spillane, M.S.C., "When is Apostolic Experience Formative for Religious Life?" Reprints of the Religious Formation Conference, October, 1981. Cross-Cultural Formation: ¯ Culture Does Make a Difference Pat Forster, 0 S.E Sister Forster is director of six novices and seven sisters with temporary profession. Her previous experience included nursing and mission work in Latin America. She has earned a Master's Degree from the Franciscan School .of Theology. Sister Forster may be addressed at 727 East Margaret Street; St. Paul, MN 55106. ~n addressing the subject of cross-cultural formation, I believe it is neces-sary to discuss the racial and cultural implications for both the initiate entering a formation culture and for the directors involved in the orientation of a new member to the community as well as of the community, to the new member. I will, then, first speak of the reflections I have embraced as a formation director. Later, I will addressthe implications for the initiate in a multi-cultural environment. Perhaps the call to formation personnel is a little simpler in that the expectations of what is hoped fo, r are put on one person or one team rather than on a whole cgmmunity. Somehow a community expects of formation personnel what in reality .is important for all of its members. The basic needs are the same. Each person in community is essentially a formation dir.ector, and needs the suggestions that will follow in this article. However practically speaking, we all know that doesn't happen. Formatioia personnel will probably be more effective in cross-cultural formation if they have experienced another culture and have, therefore, an understanding of the pain of oppression as well as of the freedom of having entered into another lifestyle. Formation personnel must also be prayerful people who through their reflection and love respond with transcendent 506 / Review for Religious, July-J4ugust, .1985 values. They would, then, respect the whole person, regardless of c61or, culture, education, beliefs, or personality. It seems that one of the major areas of concern would be that formation personnel have a good grasp of who they are.and who the other is. This will include a good psychological grasp of the stages of growth and development in adults as well as an understanding of the formation person's own personal growth and devel-opment. Granted, this is a lifelong process, and as individuals we are always limited in our ability to do this, there must be some indication that something of depth is in process for this director and her or his God. A few worthwhile questions for formation personnel might be: In what way am I oppressed? If a woman, do I recognize my oppression as a woman? If of a minority culture, do I identify xwho I am and embrace this difference? Am I threatened by not understanding my feelings and thus deny them, or am I open to the unfolding of myself and the other (see Mk 14:66-82)? Foi'mation directors, in addition .to being prayerful .and clear about who they are, will need to be friends who emPower the initiate (see Jn 21:5-17). Each initiate is in the same process as the.director--that is, pre-paring for loving service which is essentially unknown: "And somebody else will put a belt round you and take you where you would rather, not go" (Jn 21:18). To change and to accept who we are and who the other is, is a challenge because we really do not know the outcome. The results will be realized in a new fullness, in the mystery of death and resurrection. Cross-cultural vocations ~;ill need an environment which is, at one time, of their own familiar tradition find, at another time, of the tradition of the other. As Bishop Lyke stated: "W~ need to be with our own at one time and at another time, we need to be with the other."l Because there are no answers ~ind the process is rather a continued one, cross-cultural formation programs will need frequent evaluations and multiple opportunities. An environment which offers multicultural opportunities would be positive. If the initi~ite can actually experience his or her own culture in the parish or in a Specific Christian community while also experiencing the mixture of cultures within the community, distinctions could be made which would identify "yours, mine, and ours." "There is one Body, one Spirit, just as ybu were all called into one and the same hope when you were called" (Ep4:1-~5). Another area of particular importance is that of couhseling. A forma-tion and/or spiritual director must be very aware of differentiation. For example, the way one culture approaches authority, modesty, family life, and so forth, is different from the way another culture d6~s. If several cultures are involved, the formation director will need to be very sensitive to the nuances of languages and culture. The ideal would be that the~dii'ector~ Cross-Cultural Formation / 507 be bilingual and thus know moreconcretely the difficulties of understanding variations in meanings. We must always assume that, if two languages are being used, there is a language problem, This is also true of the differefit languages used.between the whites of Northern U.S.A, and the blacks of Southern U.S.A. Another language is involved. The challenge'is on both sides, not on one or the other. Both verbal and non-verbal messages and feelings need to be understood. The more sensitive person is often the more highly motivated person and the most open to new experiences, so a sensitive person is most helpful. Yet knowledge and experience in another culture tan increase sensitivity andthe ability to identify with another person, and motivate him/her toward further growth? Those directing formation will need to be able to live with the tensions between cultures and facilitate an integration into community. They will ~need to encourage personal identity with the person's culture and within the community. They will need to discern that which is a personality weakness, strength, cultural difference, and simple adjdstment to the for-mation culture and the community culture. Ehch person has a special charism. So, special parish or civic experiences will be important within the pari~h or~ civic community, ~With a variety of°cultures, special coimselors will be important. A black woman needs a bla~k counselor perhaps, or a special house of formation may be needed for the new Hislbanic candidates. Special prayer styles, studies, communications, liturgies, periodicals, and love will be necessary for-all hoping to live effectively in a cross-cultural community. Basic Theology : There is a basic theology which I would name, poetically, a theology of "Conversion and Conflict: ~. ontemplation and Creativity." A multi-culturMcontext implies the challenge of a.multiplici~y of ~,iewpoints which correspond with the differing experiences of people from diverse backgrounds and cultural traditions. A multi-cultural context suggests that no one group has a monopoly on truth. It further implies that.people from cultural and racial backgrounds other than our own are not merely "strange" or "different" or "inferior," but have a perspective of their own) Each person then is unique and important. No one person or culture is to remain isolated, Human beings or groups are always called to live in .tension. This tension can be both negative and positive. It is negative when it causes too much self-occupation or gelf-negation. It is positive when it calls the person to growth and conversion. Transcendent values take the individual to conversion. The human person possesses a character of abso- ¯ 508 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 luteness which transcends as well as~ constitutes the person. To live in a cross~ultural community, conflict and conversion are simultaneously necessary. Conversion is necessary because .it is a turning to the Lord, a turning ~to the truth within self, to the home within. It is a turning to the truth of the other. This truth is known through walking in some confusion and conflict to a new openness and finally to a solidarity. Within this process the human spirit releases its true spirit which is symbolic of a transcendent reality. The transcendent-reality to which I refer is that pro-cess of unfolding the~ true person within the transforming-converting power of the Lord Jesus. This is the individuation or humanizing process which creates new persons and/or new communities. Sacrament and Sacred Having spoken for an openness to constant conversion in ~he midst of differences and conflict, I now wish to speak of the need for a theology of the sacred.All is sacred. All is created by God. We as dependent creatures can interpret all as sacred or profane. In the life of every person the underlying plea is that we interpret the other as sacred. In community, too, the underlying plea is that we interpret the other as sacred. To treat another sacredly is to recognize sacrament. Jesus in his humanness is the primordial sacrament; this is, Jesus, first ¯ and foremost, announces God's loving kindness, compassion, recon.ciliation,¯ presence, otherness. Insofar as we are receptive to this presence in another, we are recognizing the other as sacrament. Our taking time to understand the uniqueness of the other in his or her culture and history is taking the time to know a new divine reality, a new sacrament, the sacred: Doing this will create a new community, a.cross-cultural community. It will mean I never take for granted that I know your history or even that I know my own. It does take for granted that I do not know but am learning daily. Formation directors of cross-cultt~ral communities, then, will be recon-cilers, knowing they have failed to love both locally and globally. ~They will be taken beyond today and beyond the United States. They will begin to see themselves as a minority who will be open to the majority. They will be men and women willing to create a "civilization of love." Cross-Cultural Formation For some years now, perhaps even centuries, there has been something of a debate about culture. Does it make a difference? We North Americans have had a sense of the "melting-pot" within our heritages. Today, in 1985, the "melting-pot" concept is basically unacceptable. Today we respect and honor the sacredness and uniqueness of each person, and further, of each Cross-Cultural Formation / 509 culture. As a people, we do not.ask one anothei" to be part of a melting-pot, we speak more appropriately of a "mosaic," that is, of a people who Choose to come together and are aware of their uniqueness and innate value systems. These people then identify their culture and acculturate on the basis of self and communal awareness. This is an informed decision and it is a decision which retains its own value system. The initiate, then, who chooses toj0in a community which has another cultural.orientation must be a person who knows his/her identity as differ-ent and cherishes that identity while knowingly entering into and accultur-ating to the community only insofar as her/his uniqueness and richness are not compromised. This, of course, will not be possible for many initiates. They will not have that security about their self-identity and thus will need more time or, more specifically, their own time. ,George DeVos states that the following areas will need to be addressed for the persons of multiple cultures coming together: I. Each culture raise~ questions regarding a differentiation between the culture and physical, or motor development; 2. There are issues related to the information-processing mecli-anisms in personality. That is, cognition, perception, and logical thought which carries with the culture; 3. The expressive components in human behavior related to the nature of symbolic thought in the person and its expres-sion through myths, dreams, ritual practices, ideologies, and other bodies of emotional and affective motivations vary within cultural traditions; 4. Empirical investigations find socialization patterns unique. Certain cultures collectively have prevalent child-rearing practices, role expectations, and specific values on the intel-lectual and emotional developments of their members; 5. The mode of change and its implications in cultures differ. Unless there is an asserted effort by social sciences to under-stand change in concert, each discipline and each culture will have partial answers; 6. There are issues~ related to the prob.lems of mental health. What is conformity in one culture .is deviance in another.4 ¯ Over the past four years, I have seen all six of these principles in action. I have 'ministered in two formation programs and the persons included in. the programs were black, white,~Hispanic, and Asian. Let me now address each area specifically. Physical and Motor Development .~ The most important cultural influences on physiological growth are, of 510/ Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 course, related to diet. Other cultural influences related to physiological growth are those of intense sensory stimulation. Included in this stimulation is the effect of such things as circumcision, piercing of the nose, ears, or lips, inoculations, shaping of the head, clothing, experiences of extreme heat and cold, or the .administration of internal stresses such as emetics, irritants, or enemas. When these kinds of things are found in a culture, theperson is found to be taller,.than those in a culture where there is no such stimulation. There are also noticeable differences between carnivorous and non-carni-vorous eaters, between smokers and non-smokers. Cultural pa.tterns tend to,be related~to ~the physiological, psychological, and spiritual patternings .of a.people~ ~ ' Information and Processing One's perception, cognition, and logical thought~change with the family environment, societal pressures, and global awarenesses. If a person is given an intelligence test which is standardized for the Anglo, a Chicano will likely fall short because of another environmental influence. It is of utmost importance that testing personnel or information seekers are com-petent in the minority or culture they are ministering to, If they are not of that culture, they must be very competent in cross-cultural questions. The examiner must establish a rapport with the examinee and'must be sensitive to cognitive differences. For example, people Who have been trained for years to be introverts will be less responsive to external stimtili and more responsive to values of an internal nature: Special training is required of the examiner for linguistically different learners. Testin~ and information seeking should ideally be donb in the t~stee's first language. Testing results require value jl]dgrnents and, therefore, cannot be '~all-or-nothing decisions." Other criteria must be used for cognitive, perceptive, and logical interpreta-tions. ~Using test score~s as the b~is for making a decision tha! will adversely affect an individual's,.education or occupational (vocational) future consti-tutes a clear abuse of the testing process."5 The problem of cultural bias in criteria must be one of primary focus for testing, employment, motivational evaluation, and cross-cultural growth. Human expression of inner attitudes will vary With gestures, folklore, verbal communication, and more. Without recognition of the differences in cognitive thought the "melting-pot" will continue. That is, witho.ut conscious" awareness of identifying the differences, it is possible to expect people tO blend into another's culture rather than maintain uniqueness. Expressive Components Each cultural tradition has different expressive components. These Cross-Cultural Formation / 511 components are noted, particularly in affective expressions. Dreams, too, are related to a culture and cannot be interpreted except within the cultural context of the dreamer. Family ties are frequently misinterpreted with differing cultures. The components of each culture are. complex and unex-plainable. They must be lived and listened to. An initiate, in order to be tinderstood, will need to be assertive enough to tell the myth of her/his family. The expression of this myth will include family affectivity, ritual; prayer life, food, clothes, games, and so forth. Socialization-Empirical Investigation Socialization patterns vary considerably, depending on the economic level of the "person. One of the young women in formation telling of her myth explained how important it was to the family to eat potatoes; this seemed very logical to the rest of us, the majority of whom came from rural farming areas. However, with further storytelling, the woman indicated that since the income of the family was .were in the form of potato chips in a so.me pop and hamburger. This family to buy a large sack of potatoes and a so minimal the potatoes purchased small package along with perhaps never had enough money on hand large piece of meat on sale. Their money came and went on a day-to-day basis. This econQmic situation formed the physiognomy of the family, its buying power, the habits of the family in terms of diet, and ability of the family to .budget. Another important socialization~ pattern is that of the roles assigne~ to various members of the family. One,child may~be assigned as the home-maker, another as outdoorswoman or man and another as the student. These roles are assigned within a culture, which then.doubles.the significance of the role for a young woman who comes to community and has never learned to cook because she was the ~utdoorswoman, or for the young man who never learned to cook while .in his home but now as a novice must cook fo~ the local community. When the.young man happens to be a Hispanic, the cultural shock is even greater. Men in the Hispanic culture are even more distanced from the kitchen than those in a white culture. Change .Concerning the' issues of change in society,- it is of paramount impor-tance that each culture understand the effects of cultural change on the adaptation and adjustment of individuals. For the individual considering two cultural changes, that of religious life and that of another cultui:al environment, chang~ will be more complex. The personality of the individ-ual will remain in spite of acculturation; and, in fact, it becomes exaggerated in its strengths and weaknesses. This alone can be very difficult for an 512 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 individual. Without much notice the anger they knew within themselves before seems to have twice its potential. The passivity an individual identi-fied previously now seems twice as passive, and so forth. Initiates must be counseled in these normal phenomena. There are variations of definitions from one culture to another. What is known to be bizarre in one culture is normal in another. Each ethnic group or person must. recognize the basic culture which belongs .exclusively to itself. The initiate must know her/his history and culture. It is not true that we come knowing our history. The initiate must also return to the culture of her/his past and reflect on that which is truly culture, that which is familiar only, and that.which is unique to be one with the "whole lot" while maintaining and sharing that which is uniquely hers/his. This requires a good deal ofself-possession and self-assertion. -. Mental Health ' '~' ThiS area bears little comment since it has been stated already that the mental health of an individual in one culture is very different from that 'of one in another culture. It is perfectly acg, eptable for North Americansto behave like "work~ihoiics" and then take off work for three days because of a cold. It is less acceptable for North Americans to be lazy than for them to be doing something behavioral which would prevent~ the cold. It is very acceptable for a black or Hispanic woman to miss work or a social gathering .because of her monthly cycle than it is for a North American to do so. The initiate, then; must be a person of deep faith, willing to move beyond self. The step beyond self is a step of faith. All persons involved in the cross-cultural formation l~rogram must be a transcendent people. To be a transcendent people is to be a people who believe in a God of surprises. The willihgness to gift one another with the space and place to be whb we are as well as~to become a new people, a transcendent people, is to be a people, who beli~ive ina new richness, a new community. NOTES ~Bishop James Lyke, O.EM., Assisi Lectures, February 1, 1982,.Berkeley, California. 2Paul P. Pedersen, Juris G. Draguns, Walter J. Lonner, and Joseph E. Trimble, Co,.u.nseling Across Cultures (Hawaii: University of Hawaii Press, 1981), p. 316.~ 3Archie Smith, Jr., Ph.D., "Pastoral Care in Multi-Cultural Contdxt," Guest Lecturei', Pacific School of Religion, February,, 1983, unpublished paper. 4George DeVos, "Problems and Research in Comparative Human Behavior;" Proceed-ings of the American Philosophical Society, Vol. 113, No; 5, October, 1968, ppl 351 ff. 5Joe L. Martinez, Jr., Chicano Psychology (New York: Academic Press, 19~77), p. 181~ Christian and Religious Obedience Brian O'Leary, S.J. Father O'Leary's earlier article, "Celibate Friendship," appear.ed in the issue of Janu-ary/ February, 1980. Father resides in Manresa House (Dollymount; Dublin'3; Ireland) where he is occupied in research and teaching courses in Jesuit spirituality and in the theology of religious life: O ui~ whole relationship"with God can be both e~perienced and under-stood ~n terms of obedience and "disobedience. Obedience is not just one virtue among other virtues. It is not part of a relationship, that is experienced in isolation, or that can be examined in isolation from the remainder of that relationship. It is an element ir~ every virtue, or if one prefers, it is the soil in which all other virtues take root and grow. This, of course, is taking obedience in its widest sense as cooperation with the will of God, bt~t this is also its most fundamental sense. There is an all-pervasiveness about obe-dience ~vhich reaches into every nook and cranny of our human existence. Obedience as Listening It is illuminating to reflect on the root meaning of the Latin word oboedire which means to listen. We are called to listen to God as he speaks, communicates, reveals himself in Scripture, in the teaching of the Church, in other people, in the signs of the times, in our consciences, in the stirrings of our hearts. Such listening can take myriad forms, from basic self-a~cep-tance, throughan eager following of one's special calling within the Christian community, to the final Amen in accepting the time and manner of one's death. Samuel's "Speak, Yahweh, your servant is listening" (1 S 3:10) is the basic,'lifelong attitude and prayer of the devout Christian. Since Christianity is a form of theism, its adherents are committed to a 513 514 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 belief in the self-revelation of a personal God. Consequently much emphasis is placed on the supernatural modes of God's speaking, such as inspired and inerrant Scriptures, and the life and teaching of Jesus himself! At various times in the past ~and in various different ways, God spoke to our ancestors through the prophets; but in our own time, the last days, he has spoken to us through his Son, the Son that he has appointed to inherit everything and through whom he made everything there is (Heb 1:'1-2). But we ought not to minimize the more ordinary, natural modes of God's speaking. God is the God of reality, and so every aspect of reality is a vehicle for his communication with us. Listening begins, therefore, with what is closest to us--our experience of ourselves. We listen to our bodies as they reveal their~ needs to us (e.g. for nourishment, rest, shelter). We listen to our affectivity with its constantly fluctuating attractions and revulsions. We listen to our souls yearning for ultimate meaning, for aesth~etic expe-rience, an'~ for everitual immortality. To fail to listen to ourselves is to fail to listen to God. As we move outwards from our own psyches there awaits us the invitation to listen to others. Men and women in their very humanity, in their interpersonal relationships and as constitutive of society, are mediators of God and his lording pla, n for us. We are called to listen, n~ot just.to the words people use, but to the experiences,~the Vulnerability, the fragility, the mute i0ngings ~that lie behind the words. This mode"of attentive, empathetic listening, this contemplative attitude towards people, involves encountering the other as other find not as a mere projection of ourselves and our o.wn concerns. As the other speaks, so God communicates, whether we are meeting~ttlat other'as individual or as societal, o~ Obedience as Faith ' The all-pervasive, all-embracing quality of obedience is also underlined in Paul's phrase, "the obedienc~ of faith." ~ Through him [Christ] we received grace and our apostolic mission to preach the obedience of faith to all pagan nations in honor of his name (Rm 1:5). .Glory to him who is able to give you the strength tO liv~ according to the Good News I preach, a~nd in which I proclaim Jesus Christ, the revelation of a mystery kept secret for endless ages, but now so clear that it must be broadcast to .pagans everywhere to bring them to the obedience of faith (Rm 16:25-26). ere obedience is clearly not a particular moral virtue, but that total human response to the Good News. which is proclaimed in the apostolic preaching. Paul's mission is to bring people to this surrender in faith to Christian and Religious Obedience / 515 God. This surrender is not forced; it may be refused. It is a free acceptance of, and response to the Word. This is the radical experience of metanoia for which Paul's own conversion on the road to Damascus could ser~e as a paradigm. Ultimately, for Paul faith is obedience and "obedience is faith, while unbelief is disobedience and .disobedience is unbelief. In the Old Testament Abraham exemplifies this faith-obedience both in his response to God's call (Gn 12:1-5) and in his willingness to sacrifice his son, Isaac (Gn 22:1-18). In the latter story Abraham is asked to take and offer as a holocaust not only "your son, your only child Isaac, whom you love" (which would be a natural and personal tragedy), the one person through whom the promises of Yahweh were to be fulfilled for the Chosen People (which would be a spiritual ~and national tragedy). The.key to the biblical writer's interpretation of this complex story is found in the words: All the nations of the earth shall bless themselves by your descendents, as a reward for your obedience (v. 18). But the primary model of Christian Obedience is that of the adult man Jesus to his Father. Time and again, in St. John's gospel particularly, wd see the deep fascination which the Father exercised on the human sensibility of Jesus. Much light is thrown on what it meant for Jesus tO be°Son, and how his personal se~nse of identity came from his experience of filial'~relationship. His mission appears, not so much as something entrusted to him from outside, but a~s intrinsic to who he is. "To be Son" is "to be ~ent'~ is "to be on mission." My food is to do the will of the one who sent me, and to complete his work (Jn 4:34): 1 can do noticing by myself; I can only j6dge as I am told to judge, and my-judging is just, because my aim is to do not my own will but the will of him who sent me (Jn 5:30). When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will know that I am he and that I do nothing of myself: what the Father' h~ taught me is what I preach; lie who sent me is with me and has not left me to myself, for I always do what pleases him (Jn 8:28-29). The world must be brought to know that I love the Father and that I am doing exactly what the Father told me (Jn 14:3 l). The cumulative effect of such textspowerfully communicates the obe-diential attitude of Jesus into which the Father wishes to draw all Christians. Obedience within the Church The Father sent his Son to carry out a saving mission which culminated in the Paschal Mystery, the death and resurrection ,of Jesus. The Father 516/ Review for Religious,, July-August, 1985 and the Son sent the Holy Spirit to carry out a sanctifying mission which inaugurated the community of the New Israel at Pentecost the commu-nity that is Church. Through baptism each person who is initiated into the Church is at the same time inserted into this two-pronged saving/sanctifying mission. Every Christian is not only saved and sanctified but called to share in the saving and sanctifying of others, to be sent into the world as'was the Spirit-filled Jesus. But the primary subject of this sending or mission is not the individual but the community or Church itself. It is by being in com-munion with the Church that the individual receives his/her mission which has its ultimate source ("author") in the Father. Hence the need for authority. Without authority and the means to exercise that authority the Church could not maintain itself in,unity nor fulfill its mission to the world. Since .the Church .is of divine institution and part of God's plan for humanity, the only aut.hority which can legitimately exist in it is God's autho.rity. When we reflect on Scripture we see how God reveals himself, communicates his mes.sage, and exercises his authority through intermediaries or mediators. Moses mediated the Old Covenant to Israel in the Old Testament, while Jesus in his hum~inity mediated the New Covenant in New Testament times. Now the risen Christ through his Spirit shares this mediated authority with th.e Church as a whole and with its duly-constituted leaders. Ho~v such authority is exercised need not concern us here; enough to recognize that it exists and that it is coextensive with the needs of the community for its internal well-being and its saving/sanctifying mission. Much can be learned from the final logion in St. Matthew's gospel: All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go, therefore, make disciples of all the nations; baptize them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teach them to observe all the commands I gave you. And know that I am with you always; yes, to the end of time (Mt 28:18-20). Christ's presence thrrugfi the ages guarantees the reality of the lifeline linking the Church with the source, the author, of all authority God the Father. Religious Obedience There is a parallel, although not an identity, between the authority which exists in the community that is Church,and that which exists in the community that is a religious institute. In both, the ultimate source of authority is God; in both, that authority is mediated; in both, an obediential response is required. Such authority within a religious institute is recognized in faith by a person making a vow of obedience, and then responded to existentially through the daily living out of that vow. Although~both the Christian and Religious Obedience / 517 authority and the obedience are mediated, the vow itself can only be made to God, More precisely, it is made to the Father. As with Christian obedience in general, of which religious obedience is a particular expression, our response-pattern as religious is that of Jesus who "emptied himself to assume the condition of a slave" (Ph 2:7), yet knowing that he is the Beloved Son of the Fatfier. Furthermore the religious state constitutes a closer imitation and an abiding ¯ reenactment in the Church of the form Of life which the Son of God made his own when he came into the world to dothe will of the Father (Lumen Gentium, 44). A question, however, can be raised about the legitimacy of my (or any Christian's) making a vow of obedience in a particular institute. There is a presupposition that the' will of God fbr m~ is to be found with more certainty and clarity in the context of this specific group of people. Both logically and chronologically, before the vow, and necessarily underpin-ning it, is :an act of faith. How can such an act of faith be justified'?. The answer is twofold, Subjectively, there is my own inner experience of call which is leadihg me, not into marriage, nor into the single lay state, nor into some other religious institute, but into this concrete grouping of likeminded and vowed Christians. It is presumed that this subjective experience has been prayer-fully and realistically discerned with the aid of competent spiritual direction. Objectively, there is the guarante6 of the Church which, in approving this institute, has recognized it as a milieu in which the Holy Spirit is present and acti~,e. When the institute in its turn decides to accept me as a member, I can be sure that the Holy Spirit will speak to me in the context, and through the authority structures, of thisgrouping. Within such an institute ongoing discernment isopossible, and such discernment brings together harmoniously the interdependent realities of authority and obedience. The vow implies that never again~do I discern anything merely asan individual. Religious obedience is primarily the attitude of the whole institute seeking the will of God through living out the impliEations of its charism in the contemporary 'world. At any particular time this communal attitude may be more or less faith-ful, and so more or less obediential, more or less Christlike. (A barometer, in psychological terms, is often that of'morale.) The individual member, in turn, may be more or less in ha~rmony with this communal attitude. If I have a strong sense of belonging, then I will actively and enthusiastically participate in the institute's communal search for God's will, striving together towards viable and relevant apostolic choices. On the other hand, if I feel alienated from the institute, living on its fringes, I will tend to opt out of the communal search. I will become 518 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 passive in regard to discernment and forward planning, at best adopting a privatized approach to obedience~doing what I am told, perhaps, but otherwise abandoning my responsibility to play an active role in the dis-cerning and decision-making process within the institute.,~This is a form of disobedience and a failure in faith. Four Aspects of Obedience , ~ Christian and religious obedience involves the whole person and calls for a radical stance which can only originate at the core of a person's being. If that cbre has not been touched, obedience remains superficial if not inauthentic. Because of its all-pervasive nature, obedience is multi-faceted and needs to be examined from different points of view if its reality is not to be distorted. With religious obedience especially in mind we~ will now raise up four of these aspects or dimensions. Ascetical The human person is not obedient by nature. There is both a positive and a negative reason for this. Positively, autonomy or self-rule is the mark of the mature pets.on. The journey from childhood to adulthood is in large part a growth in desire for, capacity for, and exercise of autonomy. But since .a per.son lives in a human community, this autonomy has to be balanced by the demands of interpersonal,, social and political realities. Accepting the need for such balance, and integrating the corresponding limitations of one's autonomy, are also parts of the maturation process. All of this already presupposes an ongoing asceticism. Limitations imposed on one's autonomy by external factors and forces invariably pro-voke resistance, anger, pain and yet eventually they have to be rdcognized as inevitable. This process of growth is sometimes presented as moving through the stages of dependence, independeiice, and interdependence. This iast is the mark~of the mature, socially-integrated adult: an autonomy which recognizes the corresponding autonomy and rights of others. Negatively, there are the realities of sin and disorder. The healthy drive towards autonomy is seduced and vitiated by an unhealthy drive towards egoism and pride. While human autonomy can never b~ absolute, yet we are constat~tly beguiled by Satan's promise: "You will be like gods" (Gn 3:5). It is surely significant that the sin of Adam (ht~mankind) is presented in Scripture as disobedience arising from an overweening desire for autono-my the auionomy of God himself. Against this background the ascetical aspect of religious obedience becomes clearer. Obedience is a human virtue, an attitudinal habit which must be learned through its exercise. The aim is never to break a person's Christian and Religious Obedience / 519 will, but to lead the religious to a genuine inner freedom which will prevent manipulation either by outside pressures or by disorders within the-self. Such freedom will express itself not only in docility and availability, but also in creativity and initiative. Mystical. . This second aspects.of obedience consists in that contemplative gaze towards Christ which enables one to discover him in the interplay between authority and obedience. Given this contemplative attitude a religious actualizes an increasingly intimate union with Christ in two ways. Firstly, the person recognizes in the authority of the superior the authori.ty of Christ, and in the person of the superior the person of Christ. Secondly, othe religious enters into and continually enfleshes, the obediential attitude of Christ himself. The Risen Lord does not hand over, as it were, our obedience t6 the Father as something extrinsic to himself. Rather, since we died and rose again with him in baptism, our obedience is part of his obedience, a prolongation of it in today's ~vorld, just as our prayer is part of his-prayer and is offered to the Father as the prayer of the Whole Christ: the Body-~- head and members. Religious obedience, therefore, is both obedience to Christ present in the superior, and a sharing in the obedience of Christ as he responds filially and radically to his and our Father. He was humble and walked, the path of obedience all the way to death his death on the cross (Ph 2:8). Our obedience and that of Christ are co-terminous. They both lead to Calvary. Obedience, therefore, can be compared with martyrdom, as indeed it has been in the tradition. Martyrdom haaS, either be that total, instan-taneous and violent handing over of ourselves to God through other-in-flicted d~hth, or the piecemeal, gradual, daily handing over of ourselv~es to God through the self-inflicted consequences of the vow of religious obedience. The latter is experienced as continued self-emptying which builds'up to that final and inevitable self-emptying of our natural death when we shall hopefully say with utter freedom and love, "Father, into your hands 1 commit my spirit" (Lk 23:46). Apostolic ¯ Insofar as religious obedience is a union with the obediential will of Christ, so far is it also a union with the salvific will of the Father who "wants everyone to be saved and reach full knowledge of the truth" (1 Tm 2:4). As such, along with every other expression of Christian obedience, it is truly apostolic. Nevertheless, in specifically apostolic institutes the link between obedience and apostolate is much more explicit and direct. Here obedience is primarily in function of mission, a spiritual tool of mission. ~90 ] R~view for Religious, July-August, 1983 The reality of, authoi-ity-obedience is thee channel through which mission, ¯ which originates with the Father, is mediated to the institute and to the individual members. Since mission is constittitive of the basic charism of - such institutes, and is not an optional or subsidiary dimension, obedience as apostolic.has an enormous importance and centrality. Under this heading comes the whole area bf apostolic discernment, both personal and communal. Apostolic choiceS---the selection of ministries and plans for running and evaluating them--become a major issue. A deep level of trust and openness between the members of the institute, and especially in relations with superiors, is necessary. Underpinning this, a spirit.uality which closely integrates contemplation and action is required. Authority calls 'forth and harnesses the good will, talents and energies of all, directing them with zeal and in the spirit of the institute, towards mission. In ,such an atmosphere of faith and serious purpose one dare not trivialize obedience, for example, by seeing it merely in terms of discipline, good order, or even of asceticism. If mature adult obedience does not flourish, neither does the charism of the ir~stitute, and neither does the. mission which is that of the contemporary Christ. Unitive Obedience leads to a union of minds and hearts. However, this is true only when its ascetical demands have been accepted, its mystical dimension has been experienced, and its apostolic thrust has become a powerful dynamic in one's own life and that of one's fellow:religious. This unitive aspect emerges almost spontaneously as the result of religious obedien~ which i~ lix;ed authentically and faithfully. It is not the direct purpos.e of obedience, but rather a side effect which can be gratefully recognized and received as part of the hundredfold promised by Christ to those who have left all for his sake. Vowed Celibacy and Human Sexuality M. Keith, 0 S. E Sister Keith works at the Parish Center of St. Alphonsus Church; 154 Church Street; Deet'~eld, MI 49238, where she may be addressed. There is no doubt that the mentors of our society today, probably at no time more so in history, have placed a great deal of emphasis on complete sexual fulfillment as the answer to everything. Heavy demands are placed on people for self-fulfillment via genital satisfaction. New patterns of sexual manners and morals aris'e constantly. This stress on genital intimacy makes it even more difficult to ignore. Media blitzes, which overtly and covertly proffer a barrage of sexual invitations to genital intimacy to the whole of society, at times overwhelm people. It can be said then, without a doubt, that our culture's emphasis on genital sex dbes provide at least subliminal seduction to all. Therefore, in this age, with its stress on genital intimacy for self-fulfill-ment, celibacy seems an impossible contradiction to the expectations for life which most people hold as a value. Lifelong celibacy, deliberately and freely chosen in the face of one of the most sex,oriented of societies, seems like the ultimate madness. To choose celibacy is a challenge to the cultural idols of hedonism and consumerism. Not only does our culture attack the value of celibacy, western attitudes also undermine even the previous supports that once were available for the~celibate lifestyle. In fact, in some ways, ours is the most discouraging culture possible for a celibate option. Celibac~y today demands the courage of a totally countercultural stance. Today it is much harder to avoid coming to grips with sexuality than it used to be. We are more aware how much sexuality pervades a person's 521 522 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 entire life situation. One's sexuality is seen to extend to every level of being: bodily, emotional, intellectual and volitional. More specifically, human sexuality is a powerful stimulus to move toward others and away from self-centeredness. Human sexuality thus helps attenuate ego-centrism, which dehumanizes both self and others. "Genital sexuality," of course, refers to acts, thoughts, fantasies, desires and feelings which involve or promote direct genital behavior. It is in this sense that today's society holds to the .notion that humanity is impossible without full gratification of the sex drive. Such, however, is not a universal truth. It is the purpose of this paper to show that a vowed celibate is and can become a fully integrated, psycho-sexually mature being without genital sex. Human sexuality is a basic ontological determinant of who we are as persons, and personal i~dentity is.a prerequisite for sexual maturity/identity. This personal identity is, in significant ways, worked out within images of sexual identity and sexual complementarity. Such is fully attained only in the arena of human relationships. Psychological. research shows that the incidence of sexual difficulties and immaturity is neither greater nor less among celibates than among non-celibates. Psychologist Abraham Maslow (1954) pointed out that it is not sexual abstinence as such that is pathogenic, but .the feelings or motiva-tions accompanying it. It is now well known that many cases are found in which celibacy has no pathological effects. Clinical work with non-neurotic people gix;es clear answer that sexual deprivation becomes pathogenic in the severe sense only when it is felt by the individual to represent'irejection by the opposite sex, inferiority, lack of.worth, lack of respect, isolation, or thwarting of basic needs. Sexual deprivation can be borne with some relative ease by individuals for whom it has no such implications. Religious celibates in no way deny or wish to reject their sexuality. In fact their understanding of their celibacy and of their sexuality matures as they advance in age and experience. Becoming an enlightened and respon-sible sexual being is always a lifelong challenge, This challenge involves, among other things, the development of psychosexual maturity. ,And the goal of psychosexual maturity is not orgasm; it is the capacity to love. In the celibate, this maturity is evidenced in the fuller development and harmonious interplay of the individual's psychological and sexual capacities within an ordered value system. Dr. Menninger has stated that "Insofar as choice determines behavior, it stems from some consideration of values." Psychosexual development in the celibate quite evidently cannot be iso-lated from choice and values. There is no realistic way of doing so. Vowed Celibacy and Human Sexuaflty / 523 In choosing celibacy, then, what is at issue is not a negation of any human good or value. It is rather a relativizing of priorities in fife. In choosing a celibate lifestyle, it is a tribute to the values in life that one chooses to celebrate. Celibacy lived means to the individual that: 1) the development of full humanity is more important than genital sexual expression; 2) that true generativity is greater than sexual potency; 3)that self-transcendence is more fully human than self-fulfillment. Psychosexual maturity is not static; it is a dynamic, ongoing process. Whether'a person becomes a celibate or marries, the same maturity, accep-tance of self as a sexual being and the ability to live with impulses and integrate them into the self, is a requirement to achieve full humanity. The bald fact of not being married, of not being involved in a sexual relationship does not constitute the celibate life. To be a vowed celibate means to be empty for God, to be free and open for his presence in many people and to be available for his service. In the past, perhaps, it was not uncommon for some religious and laity to think of celibacy as a state of being asexu~il. In fact, though, vowed celibacy is not an asexual state, even though it precludes full genital inti-macy. Taking vows does not snuff out personality. To say that a vowed celibate drops out of the sexual rivalry game doesn't suggest that the person is no longer a sexual being. It is normal to have sexual feelings. ~ Modern modes of expression would say that the celibate is still fully a sexual being, but without actual genital expression. As stated above, becoming an enlightened and responsible sexual being is a lifelong process; and the celibate, like all other humans, must redirect the tendency to regress into becoming selfish.Celibates need to realize that sexual abstinence does~not automatically confer the capacity to love people in general any more than incontinence in marriage increases the love for anyone. As a matter of fact, though, one difference in the celibate lifestyle is that it does move toward a more freeing love than do other lifestyles. The heart of vowed celibacy is rather.a special, unique and total conse-cration to Christ. The true celibate is effectively head over heels in love with God?' Vowed celibacy is a commitment to love Christ. This is achieved by a genuinely mystical form of life. Without some graspof mystical vision, the celibate is unlikely to remain celibate for long, The depth, and quality of personal prayer manifests itself in the depth and quality of vowed celibacy. Without vision, there is risk of psychic damage. Ignace Lepp (1963) states that ". the libido cannot be channeled in a different direction without injury to sexuality, unless it finds itself entirely consumed in the service of a higher psychic activity." This sublimation means to redirect the sexual drive. It does not mean 524 / Review for Religious, July-August; 1985 to pretend that the sex drive doesn't exist, or to forget it, or to set it aside. Sublimation channels the sexual impulse; it does not stamp it out., But in attempting sublimation, the person must be free and sufficiently motivated by life-ideals which can actually utilize these sublimated energies. The vowed celibate life, attempted without convictions and some form of mysticism, is an attempt at sexual suicide and self-destruction. If lived without an internal conviction, the response will be the simple negation of all the good of life and love and humanity in the individual. One's vowed "celibacy cannot be a complete withdrawal of all involvement in human sexuality; such a step would be the denial of humanity. Rather, consecrated celibacy must become a positive affirmation of beauty and strength. The vow of celibacy, lived with faithfulness, speaks out. against the negative aspects and excesses of the sexual revolution of our time. It contradicts the contemporary attitudes where infidelity and failure to keep commitments is an accepted way of life. Celibacy makes a positive contribution to life since Christian celibacy is an explicit affirmation that a person is aperson first and not second to his or her sex function. It provides a deeper insight into the sexuality of persons themselves. Vowed celibates are seen as total persons, not as individuals dichotomized into body/spirit. Authentic celibacy, then, is an enfleshed experience. Celibacy cannot be understood in isolation. It is experienced in a heterosexual society. It is a growing life experience in and with Christ. This means growing in love with Christ and growing in prayer with Christ. The effects of this lead celibates to a growth and deepening in their love for all people, especially for all those with whom they come into contact. Their response will grow, become actualized and manifest itself in time. And like all love, it defies description. Mature love does not come easy; it is always a growth process. For the b, elibate, this entails a process of growing as a sexual being. It is a continual becoming of the person the celibate is called to be through and. with Christ. Thus celibacy is a call to wholeness and holiness that involves patience, discipline and care. Far from lessening our need of the experience of love, celibacy offers a greater freedom in loving--a freedom to love, at times, without hope .of returned love, and to love the unlovable. This form of unselfish love witnesses to the compassion and mutual respect which are integral to justice, and moral rightness. Celibates live fundamentally indePendent lives; lives not directed to the well-being of.the single destiny for two that is common to. marriage, but directed by the demands of Christ and the Church. Religious celibacy is for loving and living. Vowed Celibacy and Human Sexuaflty / 525 Celibate love is primarily universal in character. It is a call to be con-stantly open to authentic relationships, to befriend any person met with a non-demanding love. It thus is a challenge to celibates to become the persons they are meant to be, to maximize their love and self-giftedness to others. The challenges and rewards of celibacy are the challenges and rewards of love itself. The celibate experience, in sum, is a way of making love, something everyone must do, and, like all lovemaking, it defies close scrutiny. Like all lovemaking, it is a relational exiaerience beyond words. Another great value of the celibate experience is that of availability. ¯ The vowed celibate belongs to no one person, hence to all persons. There is risk to this. Depending on how it is lived, cdibacy can either render the individual sterile or productive. Unless there is a giving away of self, celibacy is supreme sterility. Lived positively, selflessly, celibacy can be distinctively and consciously creative. These creative powers can be termed "generativity. ~ ¯ Generativity is the ability to give, nurture, and sustain life. Erikson states that: ". to know that adulthood is generative does not necessarily mean one must produce children. But it means to know what one does if one does not produce children." In Erikson's eight stages of the development of the person, generativity characteristics of adult life are met even in institutions committed to celibacy. Celibates believe that they will attain a sense of.generativity through loving relationships with people, thus creating life: The celibates'.self-abun-dance and vitality and life-giving existence will be evidenced by their presence and participation in the world. Specifically, the generativity found in vowed celibacy is a commitment to a care and concern that is universal; to a love that is life-giving and without limit. Although there is total and° exclusive intimacy between the vowed celibate and Christ, this does not exclude other relationships. In~ fact inti-macy with Christ depends on other relationships to make it possible. Friendship and support are necessary to the celibate, as is deep prayer and honesty before Christ. Religious celibacy has everything to do with inter-personal relationships. The celibate is a person firmly ~planted on earth for relating to others. Indeed, to be human is to be relational. And, of course, the psychosexually mature celibate loves individuals, not abstract humanity. Today there is a great emphasis on the forming of authentic friendships among both men and women religious. Research has shown that good psychosexual development involves and demands relationships with a vari-ety of people. Drs. Conrad Baars and Anna Terruwe, who have integrated psychiatry with their faith, note that masculine/feminine relationships, as well as same sex friendships, help to develop a wholesome emotional.life. 526 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 ~. There can be no genuine happiness without friendships. Friendships, however, are not easily acquired. They demand work, time and cultivation. Human relations are never finalized, Celibacy also requires the development ofa capacity for deep and lasting relationships. Friendship in th~ lives of religious celibates takes many forms, As one moves across the spectrum from a.cquaintance to friendship, however, the reality of celibacy becomes more pertinent. The love of authentic friendship is not easy, and there are those hurts and disappointments which are part of the "human condition" (Sr. Marie Dugas, S.S.A. 1983)~ But the benefits of friendship help make life worthwhile. Jesus is the model for celibates. He loved all people. He also had several disciples and social friends~ These friendships also developed through hurts, misunderstandings and disappointments. The love experienced in celibate friendship is that of the giving and receiving of love. This experience introduces one into a new understanding of life and one's relation to life. It allows one to rid oneself of the unneeded, counterproductive defenses which hinder growth and integration. It allows one tO be touched by the power beyond the self. Research has shown that true growth and healing take place only in a relationship characterized by love. Celibates, then, should have close friends. The development of friendships in the celibate lifestyle is critical to inter-nal/ external integration which if properly pursued will result in an ade-quately mature personality. Sexual urges will not put the celibate value system and behaviors out of sync in genuine friendship. The celibate friendship is less a response to physical attractiveness and more of a caring for what is good in theperson. The celibate friendship is an attentiveness to the other in a flexible manner rather than in a fixation. Mutual love cannot mean mutual possession. Celibates ~are united in friendship only by the bond of their free will, a bond that is not indissoluble as is that of marriage. And celibate friendships normally do not simply happen. There is ever present the element of choice involved in who twill be admitted, and to what degree of intimacy he or she will be admitted, AlL people, not only celibates, fill their heed for intimacy through. friendships. Intimacy in human living is important for personal growth, self-esteem and for a feeling that life is worthwhile. The more we live in :a mass society, the more importaiat are intimate relationships to maintain our individuality and identity. For Abraham Maslow, in the self-actualiz-ing person, the higher need is for intimacy. If this need is satisfied, the need for genitaljty is lessened Vowed Celibacy and Human Sexuafity / 527 Intimacy can be defined as unfeared self-abandonment, an unfeared self-disclosure and a dissolving of ego boundaries. In intimacy, one gives up control of what is seen by the other. It involves the sharing of one's real identity with others. Eric Berne (1974) calls intimacy a "game free" relationship. Healthy interpersonal living always involves both distance and intimacy. A celibate person striving for universal love must realize that this does not mean universal intimacy. Intimacy requires disciplined living. Besides being grounded in one's own vocation, the celibate must affirm and desire the growth of the other. This non-possessive, non-exclusive love also encourages the growth of the other's relationships with people. The celibate is pleased when the other develops new, outside relationships and interests, knowing that they are the sources of life and growth. The celibate knows that it is important that people never stop growing in love. One definition put it this way, "A friend is one who knows you as you are, understands where you've been, accepts who you've become and still gently invites you to grow" (Sr. Marie Dugas, S.S.A. 1983). This is the heart of intimacy for the celibate lover. If the intimate relationship is healthy, life-giving and creative, it will enhance the quality of the celibate's prayer life, of other relationships and the general well-being itself of the celibate. Vowed celibacy is a viable lifestyle. Although the way of celibacy suits relatively few persons, it is in itself, and for those persons a "normal" way to be, a viable way to meet life and create it. Celibacy means distinguishing between needs and wants. It is a meaningful lifestyle. This life entails an act of radical rejection of some values ih the culture that easily become idola-trous. Celibacy is much more than a set of sexual mores; it is an extension of Christian virtue. It is an act of affirmation about certain human and gospel values that easily become submerged in the culture~ The celibate lifestyle is thus prophetic in its witness. The celibate life lived in the Spirit of Christ can be a very profound and rewarding way of life, The celibate, by foregoing the type of mutuality found in marriage, is saying that no 'human efforts or human projects can ever achieve the full destiny possibl6 for humanity. The celibate is, saying that our full destiny is achievable, not by our own power, but through the power of Jesus Christ. Celibacy joyfully lived, presents an alternate vision. This lifestyle proclaims that the end of life is intimacy with God and others. Joyfully lived, this lifestyle points to what must ultimately be the end of any lifestyle, love of God and others for the "sake of the kingdom." Far from being quixotic, celibacy simply is one way that some men and women find it in their heart to be worth following, a way to be fully alive in this world. The Clown on the Cross Margaret Halaska, 0 S. F. Sister Halaska's previous article in these pages was "A Model of Discernment: The Experience of a Franciscan,' (March/April, 1984). As with that earlier article, the present one also offers a reflection based on a personal experience. Sister Halaska may be addressed at Holy Family Convent; Box 6; Bayfield, WI 54814. I It was a Day of P~rayer for me. I unlocked the door of the house where I was staying that day and walked in. A cross with the clown on it was standing on the living room floor, leaning against a table. The figure caught me off guard, and for a brief moment I was caught in the paralysis of.surprise. But its presence was an invitation.which I could not resist. In a short time I was sitting on the floor directly opposite the strange appari-tion. It intrigued me. A soft clown-figure in place ofothe usual corpus of/ hardened plaster., a clown that was warm and gentle even to the eyes . a clown whose puffy cheeks you could squeeze, creating temporary dimples ¯. a clown whose face reflected pain and peace all at once., a clown who was held to the cross partly by an outsized crown of thorns, one of which pierced his clown-hat and held him fast to the wood. During the course Of the day, I prayed long and often befOre the Clown on the Cross. I didn't say much. I tried to listen. The Clown was silent. I was silent. But the silence was not sterile. Eventually, in an explicable way, the Clownflrew me to himself. Suddenly, | wanted to hug him. It was the moment of prayer. The desire became stronger but I became aware that the Clown was too little and I was too big. And that, too, was prayer. I moved closer to the Clown, touching his face and probing his hands and feet. I felt, not the rigor of death, but the softness of Life. In a new and very powerful way the Paradox of the Cross was again speaking to me: One must die to live. 528 The Clown on the Cross / 529 One exceptionally long thorn pinned the clown-figure to the cross. Needle sharp, piercing, it hooked the hat. I found myself feeling a 'slight sense of relief that it was only the hat! At the same time, it appeared that the thorn was what secured the C!own to the Wood, leaving his arms a little more free .than those of the more conventional plaster casts which are nailed tightly. Somehow those arms

This book offers a contrastive, corpus-illustrated study of modal adverbs in English and Polish. It adopts a functional perspective on modal adverbs, and focuses on their interpersonal, textual and rhetorical functions in the two languages. The items under analysis (e.g. certainly, probably, evidently, clearly) are categorised differently in Anglophone and Polish linguistics, which is why this book also provides some insights into the treatment of modality and modal adverbs in English and Polish studies, thus contributing to the discussion of the ways in which such concepts as modal adverb, modal particle and discourse marker are understood across different languages and different linguistic traditions. It draws its examples from two monolingual corpora (the British National Corpus and the National Corpus of Polish), and the English-Polish parallel corpus Paralela. ; This project is financed from the grant received from the Polish Ministry of Science and Higher Education under the Regional Initiative of Excellence programme for the years 2019-2022; project number 009/RID/2018/19, the amount of funding: PLN 10 947.15. It has also received financial support from the Polish Ministry of Science and Higher Education under subsidy for maintaining the research potential of the Faculty of Philology, University of Białystok. ; a.rozumko@uwb.edu.pl ; Agata Rozumko is an Assistant Professor of English and English-Polish Contrastive Linguistics in the Institute of Modern Languages at the University of Bialystok. 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Issue 54.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1995. ; Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Mis'souri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ° 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ° Washington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1995Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for com~nercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read Joann Wolski Conn PhD Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1995 ¯ VOLUME54 ¯ NVUMBER4 contents 486 499 5O8 mission Twenty Inner-City Years Joanna Bramble, CSJ explores feelings, questions, and insights from her effort to revitalize an inner-city neighborhood and empower its people. Corporate Sponsorship: The 1990s and the Fruits of Our Labor Margaret MaW Knittel RSM raises some questions which suggest a fluidity of vision and a loosening of ties in regard to corporate sponsorship and the fruits of our labor. Retirement's Wisdom Years Catherine M. Harmer MMS proposes that retirement for religious may be a time of deepening wisdom and individuation and a time for a greater spirituality to emerge. 519 531 guidance The Enneagram Tad Dunne examines understandings of the enneagram and suggests ways of moving to a larger world of meaning and values. Imaging Spiritual Direction Mary Vginifred CHS discusses guidelines for spiritual direction and presents three images illustrative of the relationship between director and directee. 535 56O heritage The Brazier That Is My God: Teresa on True Prayer's Dispositions, Gifts, and Signs Mary C. Sullivan RSM highlights the prayer of personal conversion wi{h its many gifts as captured by Teresa of Avila in her rich metaphor of "dwelling places." Playing with Edged Tools Donald Macdonald SMNI allows the thought of John Henry Newman to enter us into a richer appreciation of vowed public profession as a part of radical gospel living. 482 Review for Religious spirituality 566 How Am I Doing? Signs of a Healthy Spirituality Melannie Svoboda SND suggests some indicators for checking on how healthy our spirituality is. 573 Appreciating God through Creation Roderick Payne OFM illuminates the heritage of St. Francis to draw attention to some aspects of prayer through creation. 585 589 594 6OO religious life Individualism and Rel!gious Life John Gallagher CSB reflects on three options dealing with the compatibility of contemporary individualism in relation to religious life. Psychological Screening for Religious Life Kevin E. McKenna reviews the help given by the Code of Canon Law for religious congregations attempting to form a consistent policy regarding psychological reports at the time of admission and the maintenance of personnel records. Reformulating the Religious Vows William Reiser SJ reviews the meaning of vows in religious life and suggests that an option for the poor might be a promise for our times. Let's Talk Again about Poverty Richard J. DeMaria CFC probes the meaning of poverty for religious-life practice today. ¯departments 484 Prisms 615 Canonical Counsel: Cloister for Nuns: From the Early Centuries to the 1917 Code 622 Book Reviews ~tuly-August 1995 483 prisms Pope John Paul's two recent docu-ments offer vision and direction: the apostolic letter Orientale lumen (The Light of the East) and the encyclical Ut unum sint (On Commitment to Ecumenism). More than helps to enter into the third millennium, they issue a call to conversion. In Orientale lumen the pope emphasizes that our Eastern Catholic and our Orthodox brothers and sisters are earnest bearers of a venerable and ancient tradition integral to the church's heritage. He calls for all members of the church's Latin tradition to become fully acquainted with this treasure. He desires us all to be fired by a pas-sionate longing that the church's catholicity become man-ifest to church members themselves and to the world, a catholicity comprising the several traditions together rather than in opposition to one another. John Paul uses monasticism as a special vantage point from which we can identify values important today for expressing the contribution of the Christian East to the journey of Christ's church towards the kingdom. In the East, monasticism, which did not experience the differ-ent kinds of apostolic life as in the West, is seen not merely as a separate category of Christians, but rather as a refer-ence point for all the baptized, according to the gifts offered to each by the Lord. John Paul singles out the common traits uniting the monastic experience of the East and the West and forming a bridge of fellowship, "where unity as it is lived shines even more brightly than may appear in the dialogue between the churches." lie empha-sizes the splendid witness of nuns in the Christian East: "This witness has offered an example of giving full value in the church to what is specifically feminine, even break- 484 Review for Religious ing through the mentality of the time. During recent persecu-tions, especially in Eastern European countries, when many male monasteries were forcibly closed, female monasticism kept the torch of the monastic life burning. The nun's charism, with its own specific characteristics, is a visible sign of that motherhood of God to which Sacred Scripture often refers" (9). Among the values reflected in monasticism for the life of the church, the pope highlights 1) a balance in Christian life lived as a personal response to an individual call and as an ecclesial and community event; 2) a liturgy revealing the proper harmony of the baptized-in-Christ and the eucharistic meaning of all creation; 3) a maturing journey in terms of knowing self and being free and able to love as Jesus loves; 4) a tradition of spiritual guidance from brothers and sisters to whom the Spirit has granted this gift; 5) a community showing us a life of communion and service beginning in the family and extending to the wider community; 6) a unity of theology and spirituality deriving from the triune God--the principle and foundation of the Christian understand-ing that the human person is meant for and made for relation-ship; and 7) an all-pervading mystery, enveloped in awe, with which the face of our God presents us. In still wider ways the encyclical Ut unum sint continues the call to deepen the unity we seek with one another and with God. Insisting that the unity of all Christians is God's will and is at the heart of the mission Christ entrusted to his followers, John Paul begs forgiveness for times when Catholics and the papacy itself have contributed to the divisions among Christians and calls for discussion about ways in which the pope can exercise power and authority in a reunited church. He notes that a heritage of saints belonging to all communities provides hope for the dialogue of conversion. "When we speak of a common heritage, we must acknowledge as part of it not only the institutions, rites, means of salvation and the traditions which all the communities have pre-served and by which they have been shaped, but first and foremost this reality of holiness" (84). The urgency of building for the future out of the strengths of Christian heritages marks both of these papal writings. We, like the pope, need to set our sights on this unifying and evangelizing mission of all Christians, thereby living up to religious life's own spiritual heritages. David L. Fleming sJ a~uly-August 1995 485 rnissJon JOANNA BRAMBLE Twenty Inner-City Years After almost twenty years of working towards the revital-ization of West Oakland, a depressed inner-city neigh-borhood, I took a year's sabbatical of travel and spiritual enrichment. In the middle of that year, I decided not to return as director of Jubilee West, the Community Development Corporation I had helped to create. I real-ized that I had unresolved feelings about my years in West Oakland, feelings and questions that I needed to work through before I could move on to the next steps in my work for justice. The reflections below document my liv-ing with those questions. What are my usual feelings about Jubilee West? I feel proud of what it has accomplished, but often I feel deep sadness for the people whose lives have changed very lit-tle, especially the ones I knew well and tried the hardest to help. I feel deep sadness at the unemployment, the drugs, the depressed people, and the piles of garbage that are evident with only a brief drive through the neighbor-hood. I often have an overwhelming sense of failure and powerlessness: so much of my life, love, work, anxiety, joy, hope . . . and so many people still with such con-stricted lives! I feel sadness and grief that the neighbor-hood where I worked for so long was worse after twenty Joanna Bramble CSJ is a consultant to nonprofit organizations in management and program analysis and a member of the provincial council of the Los Angeles province of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet. Her address is 529 Jean Street; Oakland, California 94610. 486 Review for Religious years than it was before. It is not that our work did not change anything or made it worse; it just could never do enough. But the main cause of continuing disintegration in that neigh-borhood is not my and others' lack of effort or creative ideas. It is high unemployment and the increasing sale and use of drugs, along with other systemic oppression. How do I keep aware of the interrelatedness of many situations and people and things and somehow see my place as both important and unimportant? What was the situation I came to in 1973? And what did I want to achieve? The 1970 census and the Oakland 701 Study gave the following statistics about the West of Cypress area: ¯ 80 percent black and 18 percent Mexican American ¯ median family income: $3,941 ¯ unemployment rate 26.3 percent for men, 35.7 percent for women ¯ 50 percent of families on welfare; mean welfare income $2,110 ¯ 90 percent of the houses had been expected to be unusable by 1969 (most of these houses are still standing in 1995) ¯ median number of school years completed: 8.4 ¯ 24 percent of people over twenty-five years of age were high school graduates Residents listed their major problems as limited incomes and a high rate of unemployment, extremely poor housing, and poor-quality education. All of these problems still exist and are complex and interrelated. I chose to come to this depressed environment from eleven years of teaching English in white, suburban Catholic high schools. I had interest, concern, compassion, energy, enthusiasm, high hopes . . . and two months of training in community orga-nizing. I remember walking through the neighborhood and mentally singing the words to "Anatevka" from Fiddler on the Roof, newly popular then. The song speaks of the nothingness of the town: "people who pass through Anatevka do not even know they have been here., someone should have set a match to this place years ago." That is what West Oakland looked like to me. But the song goes on to describe Anatevka as home: "where else could Sabbath be so sweet., where I know everyone I meet." That too was West Oakland. It did not take me long to get to know friendly people, many of whom had lived there for years. I walked the streets and .~ly-August 199~ 487 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years sat in people's kitchens to discuss neighborhood problems. Soon some longtime residents and I started the West Oakland Improvement Association. What did I want to achieve? Mainly, I did not want a repeat of Anatevka; I did not want people displaced to make room for gentrification or other forms of development. In 1974 I wrote that my major goal was to help increase the peo-ple's awareness of their power to direct their own lives. Over the next twenty years, I became more deeply aware of the immense problems in people's lives and in the physical neigh-borhood. What I wanted to do both stayed the same and evolved, as did the strategies we used. Always there was the goal of empow-erment. As a community organizer I wanted us to win on issues that people had chosen as urgent concerns. More importantly, I wanted to build an organization that could continue to empower people and revitalize the neighborhood. We won on many issues. Our victories brought pride and increased self-confidence to a number of neighborhood people. But building an organization never really happened. People seemed too concerned with per-sonal survival to stay involved very long. It became more and more difficult to talk with people about community problems when they were concerned with getting enough food for their kids, paying the rent, and dealing with drug problems. These survival issues prompted me and my good friend Sister Pat Sears to start St. Patrick's Center at the Campbell Village Housing Project, where we saw to basic necessities, providing food, clothes, counseling, and a youth program. But decent afford-able housing remained the most urgent problem. Concern about people who were being displaced or were living in substandard housing, inspiration from Jubilee Housing in Washington, D.C., lots of participation from neighborhood people and suburban friends, and awillingness to step into the unknown with faith and hope led me and Pat to start Jubilee West as a nonprofit Community Development Corporation in 1980. We immediately began to buy and fix houses for poverty-level people even though we knew nothing about real estate or construction and had almost no money. Jubilee West also continued and expanded the com-munity services and youth programs begun at St. Patrick's Center. What successes can Jubilee West celebrate over the last fifteen years? Eighty units of scattered-site housing, most of it perma-nently affordable to poverty-level families: five million dollars in property assets removed from speculation and able to be con- 488 Review for Religious trolled by the community far into the future; hundreds of children helped with tutoring and enrichment; many others helped with mentoring and private scholarships to attend college; hundreds of adults placed in jobs, coming to literacy and ESL classes, or receiv- .ing emergency food, clothing, and needed counseling; and an his-toric building rehabilitated to accommodate various community events and to house the offices for other services. When I left, Jubilee West had a committed board of directors, a staff of varying degrees of competence, and a good funding base, although financial crises were and continue to be frequent. So why do I frequently feel like a failure? Mainly because I very much wanted to do something "for the people in the houses" more than just fixing houses and lowering rents and because I feel that most people's lives are not changed very much from what they were before. As I grew to know West Oakland people, I came to be most concerned about what I experienced as the "typical" resident. She is a woman about thirty years old, never mar-ried, with three or four children from different fathers. She has about a tenth-grade education, has never held a paying job, has very poor nutrition, and probably has an alcohol or drug problem. If she is not in JW housing or other subsidized housing, she may pay as much as 60 or 70 percent of her AFDC income in rent, leaving her less than $200 per month for all other expenses. She has no car, and so her experiences and those of her children are mostly limited to the West Oakland neighborhood. She appears depressed and apathetic or else quite hostile. So what did I wantJW to do for this woman? I wanted us to empower her to enrich her own life. What did I mean by this? How would I hope to be able to describe her after a .few years? I have thought a lot about my hopes for her, and I recently became aware that they are similar to my unrealistic goals for myself: As I grew to know West Oakland people, I came to be most concerned about what I experienced as the "typical" resident. She is a woman about thirty years old, never married, with three or four children from different fathers. .~uly-/lugust 199~ 489 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years I want her to have succeeded in or be in the process of get-ting off drugs, getting more education, finding a job and then a better job, stabilizing her family, getting enough income to move out of subsidized housing, deepening her spiritual values, becoming more psychologically whole, building community with her neighbors, keeping her house clean, taking care of her kids, and working for change in the neighborhood through participating in JW and other organizations. I want her to stay in the neighborhood or come back after she succeeds in order to help the commu-nity work for justice. As I write this, it seems so unrealistic that I want to add face-tiously that she should also be thin and beautiful, but not care too much about her looks. Obviously, one reason I feel like a fail-ure is that I had very unrealizable expectations. Only a few peo-ple could achieve the hbove, and only with superhuman effort or lots of good luck. I wanted my "typical" person to be aware of her power to change and control her own life. That sounds like a good goal. But perhaps my biggest mistake was that I did not give enough conscious acknowledgment to the reality of systemic oppression. When she tries to change in other than very small ways, she runs up against huge obstacles that make it exceedingly difficult if not impossible for her to "control her own life." Only a few really "win" in her situation; but, because those few do win, she feels that she too should be able to win. She blames herself and society also blames her, telling her in many ways that it is her fault. In some ways I contribute to this when I talk about "self-help" without at the same time talking about systemic oppres-sion. Her self-blame does not give her more energy to "fight the system" and to make small and then larger changes in her life; instead it leads to depression, apathy, or hostility. Similarly my self-blame, my feeling myself a failure for not being able to empower her, does not give me more energy to fight the system; in me also it leads to depression, apathy, and sometimes hostility. Issues of injustice in economics, politics, and education are profoundly interrelated. A minimum wage that inserts working people into the poverty level without enough money to pay the rent, a business economy dependent on a certain percent of unem-ployment, thousands of job layoffs so that even many people with good educations are unlikely to keep their jobs that pay a living wage, unjust distribution of wealth including "hidden" subsidies 490 Review for Religious for the rich (whereby more money is "spent" on tax write-offs for interest on home-ownership loans than on all the housing programs for the poor), drug traffic that brings huge profits to a few wealthy people, a welfare system that discourages work, the worst schools usually in the poorest areas, housing thought of as an investment for profit rather than a home to live in, pervasive discrimination against minorities, especially African-American males--these are only a few examples of the interconnected sys-tems that cause my "typical" person's situation. I have known all this for a long time. Did I fail to keep it in my awareness because I felt I could do little about it and I like solvable problems? In any case, I concentrated on self-help pro-grams-- how soon I found that often they do not succeed either! Each person in any self-help program must "choose life" for her-self, of course, and begin to act on her own behalf while at the same time society, "the system," must stop oppressing her. Both are interrelated. But as I reflected on my Jubilee West experience, I still heard the same familiar inner voices of my own self-blame. If only I had been smarter, worked harder, tried something more creative, then I could have made a bigger dent in solving these problems. At this point I was fortunate to come across the book Surplus Powerlessness by Michael Lerner. Lerner first talks about real pow-erlessness, the reality of an unequal distribution of power in this society: If a small number of us try to change things, we will run up against a brick wall. In fact, even if millions of people were to engage in activity to change things, in the short run we would find our society very difficult to change. The brick wall is not just a subjective illusion. The basic fact is this: American society is a class-dom-inated society. A small number of people have vast eco-nomic power while the overwhelming.majority has almost no power in the economic realm. Economic power gives that small group a huge amount of political power. While the rest of us have some political power, it takes vast expen-ditures of energy and time to win small victories. But to say that the elites of wealth and power have over-whelming power is not to say that they have absolute power. Things could be quite different if many people were to engage in the struggle for change. It would be a real strug-gle- and there would be many difficult defeats.~ After talking about realpowerlessness, Lerner describes surplus ~uly-Augus~ 199Y 4.91 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years powerlessness as "the set of feelings and beliefs that make people think of themselves as even more powerless than the actual power sit-uation requires, and then leads them to act in ways that actually con-firm them in their powerlessness." He is describing me when he shows how many activists continually manage to redefine the con-ditions of success in such a way that they always feel "one down" for not having accomplished enough; they redefine their victo-ries as failures and do not credit their own real accomplishments. I certainly do that often. Lerner reminds us that when society claims it is set up in a fundamentally fair way, in which people can make it if they really try, powerlessness is seen as a product of the individual's personal failures. Thus self-blame becomes the central element in surplus powerlessness. It grows stronger every time we blame ourselves for having failed in some important way and have no compassion for ourselves in view of all the ways that reality pushes us to be less than we want to be. Taking responsibility for one's own life works only for the part of the population and for the societal issues where objective conditions allow for real change. People need help to distinguish between factors out of their control about which they could be legitimately angry and factors that would change if they changed how they thought about themselves and how they lived their own lives. Surplus powerlessness, self-blame, deflects attention from the real problems and hence from any real solutions. The anger that might be reasonably directed against a social order which gener-ates personal unhappiness is instead directed inwards and becomes depression or a dangerous buildup of repressed violence. But Lerner's next point is also part of my" experience. Once people are no longer disempowered by self-blaming, they are in a better position to change their environment. Surplus power-lessness can be lessened by supportive group interaction and by developing compassion, showing people that the problems they face do not come from personal inadequacies, but are faced by others as well, and that people need one another's help in facing these problems. My reflection on Lerner's concept of surplus powerlessness shows me that I have been blaming the victims, both my typical West Oakland person and myself. I have definitely internalized the American way that tells me that, if I have a problem, I should take care of it, work to change it, and not blame someone else. 492 Review for Religious But, to avoid the extreme of blaming others for my problems, I frequently go to the extreme of not giving much acknowledg-ment to the real powerlessness in my life, to the real systems that are oppressing me as well as my typical West Oakland person. At this point in my reflection, I read Joanna Macy's books Despair and Personal Power and World as Lover, World as Self about the need to feel pain, experience it, work through it: my pain and the pain of others. I see that as a big clue for me. I went back to my sabbatical journal written in Washington, D.C., in 1992. One of the questions in Mary Cosby's class on "call" was "What is your deepest pain?" I wrote, "I'm not aware of very much personal pain. Actually my greatest pain seems to be feel-ing the pain of others: so many homeless people on the street, so many hurting children, so much violence in the world., and feel-ing powerless to do very much about any of this." A few days later at a creative-movement session I felt overcome by sorrow and tears. I kept feeling, saying, crying to myself: "I didn't know how to make it better for people. I am so sad about that ¯ ¯ . sad because people were not helped, not so much that I couldn't help but that they weren't helped., thinking of Sylvia, Spring, Connie, Deedee, Charetta, Pat, A1, Brenda . . . tears because I couldn't do it, but more because life did not change for them . " I remember feeling that I must be avoiding some deeper personal pain if the major pain I was aware of was pain for the world, for other people. Now I see that a major need for me is to feel my pain, which greatly includes pain for the world. Joanna Macy says in Despair and Personal Power: "We have trouble cred-iting the notion that concerns for the general welfare might be acute enough to cause distress., but pain for our world touches each of us, and this pain is rooted in caring., our apparent pub-lic apathy is but a fear of experiencing and expressing this pain, and once it is acknowledged and shared it opens the way to our power." 2 I have definitely internalized the American way that tells me that, if I have a problem, I should take care of it, work to change it, and not blame someone else. July-August 199Y 493 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years During that semester in 1992, I picked up an old journal from 1988, specifically looking for how I dealt at that time with my pain over the distressing situations I experienced daily at Jubilee West. A pattern seemed to be: I would run into a small or large problem that was usually a symptom of a larger systemic problem; feel frustrated and ptwerless; think I should be able to solve it; blame myself because I could not; go to bed depressed, wake up with somehow more energy ready to try again, to think up some new way to address the problem . . . but rarely allow myself to really feel my own pain and sadness. Although many people were involved in Jubilee West, I always felt myself ultimately respon-sible. I also frequently neglected my deep need to gift myself with beauty and nourishment for my soul. I have always felt a great desire for silence, solitude, beauty, prayer--for finding ways to experience the sacred in all of life. But I often let compulsive efforts to solve problems rob me of the centeredness necessary for living and acting from a contemplative way of being. As a step in the process of"living the questions" and of writ-ing this article, I walked around the West Oakland neighborhood visiting some of my longtime friends. I had not been able to do this since leaving Jubilee West three years ago; when we moved away last fall, I just disappeared without telling many people that I was going. So this walk was a pilgrimage for remembering and finding cause to grieve and cause to rejoice. What do I learn for myself from all of this reading and reflec-tion and from my recent pilgrimage of walking in West Oakland? What does my inner wisdom tell me? What follows are some exploratory answers as I live the questions: 1. Feel your pain, take time for it. your personal pain and that of the West Oakland people that you care about, and the world that 'faces the possibility of total destruction. Allowing myself to feel pain is hard to do; I am more used to giving thirty seconds to pain and then moving on to possible solu-tions. But, on my walk through West Oakland, I was more able to be with the pain of what I experienced: my own fear when I went into Campbell Village by myself because of what I know of the violence, drugs, and crime that are always there; the usual mounds of garbage everywhere, especially in front of my friend Sally's apartment; Sally's son in jail for using and selling drugs--I remem-ber him as a cute, loving eight-year-old; the fifteen or twenty men on the corner of 14th and Peralta as they always are--drink- 494 Review for Reh~ious ing and buying drugs; Trisha's house boarded up because she was evicted for drug activity, when she had been one of Jubilee West's most promising tenants. 2. Feelyourjoy also and others' joy as well: celebrate small suc-cesses, continue the lifelong task of dealing with your inner judge that says, "but it isn't enough." My walk through West Oakland gave me many opportunities for experiencing joy. It felt good to remember all the times I have been in people's houses having coffee and conversation. My friend Joanne greeted me with a big hug, and we laughed over old times together. Two of her children are doing very well, she is enjoying her job taking care of hand-icapped people, she still feels empow-ered by the victories we achieved together many years ago, and her sense of humor is still spectacular. Annie also greeted me with open arms; she is an elderly woman who owns her own home and several oth-ers in the neighborhood, though all of them are in various stages of disrepair. As I sat in her tiny kitchen, she asked me who she could get to help her change her will, and I remembered how hard it was, many years ago, to convince her to make a will at all. My last stop was Charles Garcia, who because of our orga-nizing efforts scraped up $1,700 twenty years ago to buy the falling-apart house he was living in--a small amount, even in 1974, but monumental to him. Although he was not home, his pride of ownership was evident everywhere: lots of beautiful roses in the front yard, a stained-glass window over the door; his daugh-ter spoke of wanting to. move her own growing family back to that neighborhood. I was pleased to see that there was only one burned-out house on Chester Street, when there had been many a few years ago, and I felt pride as always at Jubilee West's twenty-two new-con-struction apartments on Goss Street, definitely the ~best-looking housing anywhere in the neighborhood. My experience of joy on my walk through the West of Cypress neighborhood brought home to me the truth of Joanna Macy's Celebrate small successes, continue the life-long task of dealing with your inner judge that says, "but it isn't enough." jUuly-August 199Y 495 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years words: "When we open our awareness to the web of life, we con-nect not only with the sufferings of others, but to the same mea-sure, with their gifts and powers . . . if we can grieve with the griefs of others, so, by the same token, by the same openness, can we find strength in their strengths, bolstering our own individual supplies of courage, commitment, and endurance."3 3. Acknowledge real powerlessness and systemic oppression. Deepen awareness of this as a reality check, as the main reason for not continuing self-blame, as a step to determining at which point to try to intervene. Catch yourself when you are blaming the vic-tim, whether that victim is yourself or someone else. 4. Acknowledge surplus powerlessness in yourself and in others, and try to find ways to deal with it, mainly by group sharing and by compassion for yourself and others. 5. Give up the myth that there is one key to changing the world. I have had the fantasy hope that there is one key to changing oppres-sive systems and that, if I could just find it, I would know what to do. Now I am more aware that transformation is happening on many levels at once and that it is not necessarily more important to work on one rather than another; I have lots of options for where I can best use my gifts to work for change. 6. Give up the myth that I am totally responsible (even when and if it is my job to be in charge), that I necessarily have the power to create the changes I want. Sometimes I have that power, often I do not. Any transformation will take many people working in many ways. A friend told me recently that she has become passionately committed to nudging the world toward justice and ecological san-ity. The idea of nudging shows a good grasp of reality and the pos-sible, and many people are doing this all over the world. 7. Give as much time as possible to the beauty, silence, and soli-tude that I so long for and know is essential to the life of my soul. My greatest desire is to act from a deeply contemplative stance. I do not always live that way, but I become more and more con-vinced that it is the only way to be who I am, to be at peace with myself and the world. Many questions remain as I come to the end of these reflec-tions, but hopefully every deepened insight leads to new possi-bilities and changes in my way of being, feeling, and acting. My questions will take more than my lifetime to answer. I am reminded of a vivid memory from a few years ago. I was in the midst of a crisis at Jubilee West, and I went to walk around the 496 Review for Religious lake to try to think of what to do. As I walked, I would come up with an idea about a next step, bu~ a voice in me kept asking, "What if you can't solve the problem?" I would be with that ques-tion for a few minutes and then start again to plan strategies. But the voice was persistent: "What if you can't solve the problem?" I have been brought up to believe that, ifI have a problem or see a problem, I should try to solve it. In fact, I very frequently have been able to find solutions to problems, to achieve what-ever I put my mind to achieve. Similarly, in World as Love~; World as Self, Joanna Macy quotes Lyndon B. Johnson as saying during the Vietnam War: "Don't come to me with a problem unless you have a solution." She tells of some colleagues in France who, ridi-culing our American culture for demanding instant solutions to problems, said we should "let the difficulties reveal themselves first before rushing for a ready-made solution, or else you will not understand them.''4 And so, as I walked around the lake struggling with the com-plexities of my crisis, the persistent voice asking "What if you can't solve the problem?" was actually a blessing. It pushed me to experience that often I cannot solve the problem. What is needed then is not more strategies, but waiting in openness: openness to the unfathomable presence, power, energy, connectedness in the universe, in me, in other people, and in all situations--which I call God. What is needed is sitting with open hands and open heart in deep silence and solitude, or dancing with abandonment to powerful music, or walking on the beach feeling the immensity of the ocean, or remembering my redwood tree. What is needed is anything that brings home to me the sacredness of all beings. I am remembering also the poem by Wendell Berry that I first saw on the kitchen wall at Genesis Farm, the environmental study center where I spent six weeks in the spring of 1992. It moved me deeply then and still does, giving me a powerful image of commitment to the possible in the darkest of times: "In the dark of the moon, / In flying snow,/. / The world in danger. / I walk the rocky hillsides / Sowing clover." I wonder what forms my clover will take? In looking through my 1991-92 .journal, I rediscovered another powerful image, a dream I had on 1 February 1992 and had forgotten. The image of wholeness in my dream links with Joanna Macy's wisdom about the interconnected whole in Despair and Personal Power: "What is it that allows us to feel pain for our Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years world? And what do we discover as we move through it? What awaits us there on the other side of despair? To all these ques-tions there is one answer. It is interconnectedness with life and all other beings. It is the living web out of which our individual, sep-arate existences have risen, and in which we are interwoven."s Deep implications of this dream are gradually surfacing as I continue to reflect on it more than three years later: I am in a house with many people., much chaos., there is a cupboard with a lot of jigsaw puzzles., suddenly they all fall out and come crashing down . . . so there are hun-dreds of puzzle pieces all over the floor., all from differ-ent puzzles . . . instead of feeling hopeless, like I would never be able to sort out the pieces and put each puzzle together again . . . in the dream I feel hopeful . . . like what was individual puzzles is now one big whole . . . and the challenge is to make a new picture in a new way. Soon after I wrote the pages above, my friend Sister Pat, cofounder of Jubilee West, died unexpectedly while we were vaca-tioning in Vermont. We had worked, argued, dreamed, planned, and enjoyed life together in West Oakland for nineteen years of a longer close friendship. Pat was "home" to me; now I feel like a homeless person. In my grief I have felt that God is burning himself into my soul, in intense pain and intense beauty. Was it in another lifetime that I wrote, "I'm not aware of very much per-sonal pain"? I am amazed that "Feel your pain" was one of my "exploratory answers." It has helped me take time for the sadness of my loss. I am hopeful that my pain will give me strength and wisdom to respond to the world's pain in new ways. My under-standing of my own "answers" is deeper than when I wrote them. Hopefully, I am more ready to keep working to create a new pic-ture, a new wholeness. Notes ~ Michael Lerner, Surplus Powerlessness (Oakland: Institute for Labor and Mental Health, 1986). These and other quotations from Lerner are a combination of a variety of pages in this book. 2 Joanna Macy, Despair and Personal Power in the Nuclear Age (Baltimore: New Society Publishers, 1983). These quotations are a com-bination of a variety of pages in chapters 1 and 2. 3 Macy, Despair, p. 32. 4 Joanna Macy, World as Love~; World as Self(Berkeley: Parallax Press, 1991), p. 18. s Macy, Despair, p. 24. 498 Review for Religious MARGARET MARY KNITTEL Corporate Sponsorship: The 1990s and the Fruits of Our Labor I alternate between thinking of the planet as home--dear and familiar stone hearth and garden--and as a hard land of exile in which we are all sojourners. --Annie Dillard, "Sojourner" Mey mother had lived in this home, built by her father, ver since she was eighteen, and now sixty years later she was selling the stained-glass windows, the hardwood floors, everything. All went well but for that last moment holding all the pain. We walked away bearing the image of strangers in that beloved doorway, frame of four generations. Doorways of insti-tutions, too, owned and operated by generations of women reli-gious, hold countless emotionally freighted moments, and near the close of the 20th century the terms "corporate sponsorship" and "fruits of our labor" have become and remain inextricably bound. In one ethical frame come three questions that are relevant to these two realities, corporate sponsorship and fruits of our labor. The three questions suggest a fluidity of vision, a loo'sening of ties. The questions are: Who are we? Who are we becoming? Who are we called to be? Who Are We? Over successive generations the corporately sponsored institutional ministry increasingly became for Catholic women religious in the United States their "hearth and garden," Margaret Mary Knittel RSM served as director of personnel services at Saint Xavier University in Chicago from 1981 to 1987. Presently, as a consultant for nonprofit organizations, she writes to us from I 1 Simpson, H; Geneva, Illinois 60134. ~uly-Aug~st 1995 499 Knittel ¯ Corporate Sponsorship the consummate fruits of their labor, our labor. Hospitals, nurs-ing homes, orphanages, .high schools, and colleges together form a litany of dedicated achievement, of the brick-by-brick accom-plishments of many dedicated women. Annie Dillard's feelings about this planet as hearth and garden and land of exile help identify three groups or generations of women religious who for a hundred years have owned and operated those institutions.1 These generations we shall call the exiles, the arrived, and the The first generation, the exiles, traveled from countries like Ireland, Germany, and Italy to North American mission lands. The second generation, the arrived (or arriv&s), lived in an at-homeness within their institutions in the burgeoning years. Now, in these closing years of the 20th century, we have a third gen-eration, the sojourners, seeking a new way to live their profes-sional commitments and their personal lives as vowed women religious upon finding themselves living in smaller and smaller groupings on a planet presenting challenges and opportunities their pioneering sisters in exile--their grandsisters--would not recognize. For the exiles--pioneers, all of them--the missions of the late 19th and early 20th century meant lives of physical sacrifice and economic deprivation well beyond the virtue or vow of poverty. Those women pieced together budgets, scraping their ingenuity for survival. Having come intent upon working hard, they strove to build hearths and gardens and kept striving and struggling, remaining and reminding themselves to be exiles at heart, women in a foreign land. Echoing the economy at large, the institutional ministries they had founded and maintained boomed after the lean years of the Great Depression. The second generation, the arrived, brought forward personal and corporate energies to build up edu-cational, social-service, and healthcare institutions surpassing the dreams of the earlier immigrant generation, the exiles. With increased settling in, this hearth of the religious women's profes-sional lives, this sponsored work, began for some to take on near-salvific powers. This hospital, this academy, began to hold terrestrial hopes and dreams, promised a salvation, and hinted of a this-side immortality. Plaudits, awards, and status were afforded to this generation of women who had arrived, who in some cases had left a humble family circle for what was increasingly becom- 500 Review for Religious ing an educated, secure middle-class community. They, we, by one definition indeed had arrived. For the arrived, their hospital or academy chapel began to localize the garden of the spirit. Here each morning and evening, all, regardless of professional status, gathered together at prayer. Here the contemplative "side" sought nourishment as the apostolic "side" waited just outside the chapel door. Hearth of work and garden of spirit, these became fix-tures within the corporate institu-tions cared for by the members of this second generation. Who Are We Becoming? In the movie "What's Eating Gilbert Grape?" the central figure, an exceedingly obese mother of four, says to her teenage son in a moment of reconciliation, "I never wanted to be like this." She had eaten her way to virtual immobility after her husband walked away from her and their children. Do we women religious, as this 20th cen-tury of ours draws to a close, gaze at our corporate body and say to ot~rselves, "We never wanted to be like this"? The founders of mis-sions here in the United States began on an inspiration to do good The second generation, the arrived, brought forward personal and corporate energies to build up educational, social-service, and healthcare institutions surpassing the dreams of the earlier immigrant generation, the exiles. in the sight of the God, and now, one or two hundred years later, their legatee corporate body has perhaps come to he something overly substantial: substantial hearth and garden, substantial fruits of our labor. These places, these institutions, became the symbolic body of our corporate identity within the church and the symbolic immortality within our destinies. Boards, philanthropic individ-uals, committees, friendships have been cultivated in the name of a hospital, an orphanage, or a school, and individual women's identities have been formed by and dedicated to bricks and steam pipes and windows. And then, as a distant window opened in the early 1960s and Vatican Council II convened, the corporate body ~ly-August 1995 501 Knittel * Corporate Sponsorship began to be looked at and came into question: "Is this who we are becoming?" For some women and men, in and out of religious life, the signs of the times appealed to in the council documents began to replace the signs of success. The prophet Jeremiah's call to voca- Women religious know that an additional thirty years, like those since the council, will not be afforded them. A sizable amount of post-Vatican time has quickly become history, and religious can recite lists of classrooms already vacated, hospital beds unused, and doors closed. tion describes a people God observes burning incense to strange gods and "adoring their own hand-iwork" (Jr 1:16). The prophetic began to ease itself forward. The work of our hands, the fruits of our labor, came into question. Now, in these late days of the 20th century, the hearth lies gray with embers and the garden shows signs of late-summer exhaustion. Women religious know that an additional thirty years, like those since the council, will not be afforded them. A sizable amount of post-Vatican time has quickly become history, and religious can recite lists of classrooms already vacated, hospital beds unused, and doors closed. Worse, we know in our aging the lists of needs more acute, more violent, than our grandsisters might have dared imagine. With abuses crowding our culture into corners that seem to offer no choice, we acknowl-edge there has to be more to this journey. Who Are We Called to Be? Our third generation, the would-be sojourners, wonder at this late-20th-century hour: "Is this our time of exile? Shall we be graced to select to become sojourners. Selecting to be sojourners, to move from being securely settled to securely unsettled, recalls the, sweep of the Hebrew Scriptures showing us a people finding centers other than God. The king-dom, the temple, the land--here was the answer. No, not here, there. No, not there, here. Efforts to restore the earthly kingdom kept centering on realities other than God. But Yahweh contin-ued to insist. 502 Review for Religious Selecting to be sojourners calls us to know how to go into exile, how to travel. Traveling, what shall we pack? Timing, how to schedule transportation, stopovers? And we cannot forget those allowances of minutes and hours, those sponges of time, to absorb this unfamiliar territory, this plan, these new connections. We will not know the language, but will need to interact and relate with others in order to continue on the journey and will have to search our imaginations for ways to communicate constructively. Life will move more slowly even as we continually need to cope with myriad details. Knowing exile, we will know ourselves anew. A clock continues to tick, and while many individual women religious hear it, the instinct to muffle its sound remains. "Enough!" we hear. Our alternative thoughts drift to sojourning, but graying embers say "Enough." We lived through the changes of the 1960s and '70s immediately after the council. No more traveling, turning, leaving, remembering, forgetting, previsioning, refashioning, or paradigm shifting for us! Just leave me alone. Enough. Give me the basics for survival and let me live out my life, here. Give me my job, my position, my power. Give me space. But a clock continues to tick. Learning to Mourn Henri Nouwen has said, "Yes, we must mourn our losses. We cannot talk or act them away, but we can shed tears over them and allow ourselves to grieve deeply. To grieve is to allow our losses to tear apart feelings of security and safety and lead us to the painful truth of our brokenness. Our grief makes us experience the abyss of our own life in which nothing is settled, clear, or obvious, but everything constantly shifting and changing.''2 At issue here is whether or not women religious have the energy to mourn. There have been deaths--countless funerals, remembered rejec-tions, and downright hostilities and hatreds. Yes, death seems to have been an integral part of this life once so much idealized--the youth and the joy! But, through all of these deaths, have we short-circuited a certain human pathos, admixing theologies and spiri-tualities, being at times more stoic than Christian? Several weeks after the death of my mother, an acquaintance asked, "How are you doing?" An incident, fresh that day, helped me to describe a way of being that I would later learn is common to us and may be where the corporate person of religious life .~ly-Auguyt 1995 503 Knittel * Corporate Sponsorship finds itself today. I told him of my standing in the middle of a room that morning, about to clean, but not knowing what to do next. My emotional energy was somehow separated from me as a person. As women religious, do we stand in the middle of a room and not know how to clean it, with our individual and corpgrate emo-tional energy elsewhere? Solneone has said, "Leaders are people who do the right thing; managers are people who do things right.''3 Is there a sense that somehow our corporate energy has separated itself from the corporate body so that with our corpo-rate leadership we continue doing things right rather than doing the right thing? Walter Brueggemann has observed that "reli-gious practitioners are often easy and unwitting conspirators with such denial. We become the good-humor men and women, for who among us does not want to rush in and smooth things out, to reassure, to cover grief?.''4 Rush in, smooth out, reassure--sounds familiar. What and where are the deep-down places in which we will individually and corporately rejoin our emotional energies, find ourselves? While sometimes we feel sublimely practiced in the various forms of grief, having experienced death in many forms, have we mourned? Have we cared enough about ourselves individually and corporately to let in the slow, mysterious loneliness, the ever changing healing of life after a death, a shocking, numbing death, has occurred? This work of mourning looks not only to the past but also to the future, fully realizing that new steps must be taken. The ability to bear wholesome and healing grief is every bit as much a fruit of our labor as the most imposing achievement of our corporate endeavors. Who are we called to be in this late 20th century, and is God directly and immediately in charge? Given our status and our connections, have we--women religious who have arrived--cor-porately capitulated to others' being in charge, someone else's agenda. "The task of the prophetic imagination is to cut through the numbness, to penetrate the self-deception, so that the God of endings is confessed as Lord.''s We come through the numbing to learn from a God in charge that the fruit of our labor may be "only" to know Jesus the Christ once again as way, as truth, as life. In this late 20th century, the fruits of our having arrived carry the exotically sweet flavor of success taken for granted and of 504 Review for Religious controlling power. In some instances we think it necessary to cling to these fruits with an even tighter grip. What sadder use of our time than participating in meetings with unseen forces with a view to reconstituting yesteryear rather than working with hope for tomorrow! Is there true conversation within our communi-ties, or merely some talk while waiting for followers to follow? Whether we would speak with Brueggemann's "prophetic imagination" or Philip Keane's "moral imagination," can we imag-ine imagining? Keane has said, "Communities as well as persons need t6 develop moral character and exercise moral imagination as they seek to address the great issues of our times.''6 When a loved one dies, a significant part of our grieving may involve imagining the future without them. We have known and loved them, but deep down we grieve for ourselves in an unknown future--a birthday or a Christmas--without their presence. We deeply miss this lost past. The exile has begun, with or without us. We need to acknowl-edge it, learning more and imagining more about what it means to mourn. We will be sojourners, like our grandsisters before us, leaving the comforts of home, however we currently define and hold on to them. "A number of factors can hinder persons from being genuinely reflective and playful in their moral thinking," says Keane; "power or force is one such factor.''7 Shall we become more reflective, more playful, and imagine leaving our present "homes" of wrongfully constructed political power, of oppressive behaviors? What prevents us from asking: Who are we? Who are we becoming? and Who are we called to be? The answer from some, if not all, may lie in these processes of the prophetic, these questions. Land of Exile: Corporate Sojournership "Fairly often," says Keane, "I run into persons whose image of God is that God is out to get us. Such persons want to be told what to do, and they are afraid of using their moral imaginations. Their religious or prayer lives will often be quite limited because their fear keeps them from really being open to the power of the Gospel stories.''8 As women religious we seek the courage to imag-ine and do corporately what many individual women and men have already wrestled with in their lives. We need, corporately, to turn in the keys, have a good cry, and move on. 3~uly-Al¢g'ust 199Y 505 Knittel * Corporate Sponsorship Turning in the keys does not necessarily mean a wholesale closing of eacli and every institution. Some would like that, but it could indeed prove shortsighted and definitely unimaginative, even though some say the community's need for money is a good reason for selling this hospital or that academy and others say, "If we sell, we would be doing something holy." Abandoning an inner-city hospital without recourse to imaginative possibilities of how this long-cared-for space--the land's square feet and the buildings' cubic feet--could now serve the poor better might well become a new urban tragedy. We will need to go after anew, with all the civic clout that our years of being respectable arrivges can muster, the neighborhood's endemic and systemic problems. The friends of our institutions of the past may not choose to be the companions of our sojourning in the years ahead. But, together with those who would stay with us, we n~ed to find out who we are called to be. In any new land such as the future, there will be questions, then some answers, and then new questions. Our bequest, the fruits of our labor--whether embodied in our present corporate buildings and our present apostolic endeavors or not--must always be directed towards common goods that our corporate resources and corporate energies can hope to accomplish. People reflecting on the conversion to which all of us are called expect that the hearth and garden that halve come down to tis from a former time, these substantial signs of our having arrived, will increasingly suggest to us new common and corpo-rate lives of sojourning exile. These and similar questions will keep occurring to us: How will we use the power and influence we have? What could the prayer of our community be like? How will we imagine and live appropriate ways of coming together and being together--or of being together and going out together? What can we do most effectively for the coming of the kingdom? Shall we be women of vision, corporately attending to the good? Shall we corporately prepare in earnest to live in exile, to be sojourners, persons consciously and deliberately ready for the journey that begins and ends in God? Notes l Annie Dillard, "Sojourner," in Teaching a Stone to Talk (New York: Harper and Row, Publishers, 1988), p. 150. 506 Review for Religious 2 Henri J.M. Nouwen, With Hearts Burning (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 1994), p. 27. 3 Warren Bennis, Why Leaders Can't Lead (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass Publishers, 1989), p. 18. 4 Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic hnagination (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1978), p. 49. s Brueggemann, p. 49. 6 Philip S. Keane, Christian Ethics and Imagination (New York: Paulist Press, 1984), p. 104. 7 Keane, p. 107. 8 Keane, p. 107. Tourist Your T-shirt's stamped in letters large across your chest: KATMANDU. Your bike is labeled with a hundred road resorts. Your car is dotted round with all your touring triumphs . So, why not take another route today? A low-cost tour to that other inner world inside. Stay quiet by that vast unbounded inner ocean in your mind. Dive, swim and surf. Fly free. Ride high the inner waves of thought and feeling endlessly exhilarated, or delve into the dark and secret untrod cavern of your soul. Discover now the mystery of creation; confront the abyss unending of your own nothing-self becoming. And meet in that remote mysterious empty temple, far inside, your God. Cothrai Gogan CSSP .y~uly-August 199Y 507 CATHERINE M. HARMER Retirement's Wisdom Years One of the recurring discussions at assemblies and chap-ters of religious revolves around the rising median age, the need to care for our elderly, and more subtly the growing costs of such caring. The issue is an important one in that most United States congregations have median ages over sixty. An examination of congregational budgets shows that increasingly large amounts of money are dedicated to the care of the elderly. The National Conference of Catholic Bishops has been sponsor-ing a special collection for aging religious that people contribute to with great generosity, but it covers only a small part of the actual costs. A visit to the motherhouse of almost any group of sisters will show that a large part of what was housing for novices in the past is now dedicated to the aging members. Some motherhouses have very fine infirmaries for the sick elderly. There is no question that religious leaders are making great efforts to provide the best they can for their members through all stages of life. I would like, however, to examine two aspects of that effort. The first has to do with the nursing-home care that many of the sick elderly need. The second has to do with the concept of retirement for religious and the way it has been handled over the last twenty years or so. The Sick Elderly The first topic is the simpler one and will get less treatment in this article. In the care of our sick elderly, the emphasis has Catherine M. Harmer MMS wrote "Election: A Call to Service" for our September-October 1994 issue. Her address is Medical Mission Sisters; 300 W. Wellens Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19120. 508 Review for Religious been changed from the simple caring for them "at home" that was possible when the median age was much lower and the num-ber of elderly religious was either smaller or relatively smaller. When that was the case, at the motherhouse a small staff assisted by novices and postulants could care for them in much the same way that a family could take care of any sick or elderly member of it. Gradually, as the numbers increased and the sick elderly lived longer, a more professional model, that of the nursing home, became more common. As this was happen-ing, the percentage of vigorously active members was decreasing. At present, in most of the retirement facilities I have visited over the years, the staff is largely lay with very few religious among them. In some very large congrega-tions, with several hundred sick elderly members, the facilities com-pare well with any licensed nursing home, often providing much better care and definitely offering more loving care than in the average nurs-ing home for the laity. In smaller congregations the attempt to pro-vide quality nursing care results in Some small congregations in a given area are studying the feasibility of establishing an intercon gregational nursing home. A few religious leaders are looking at ways to provide for their members in general nursing homes in their area. small facilities that are as expensive to maintain as considerably larger ones would be. In some cases a nursing staff (composed mainly of nurse aides) that could care for thirty patients is taking care of ten or fifteen, sometimes fewer. As congregations face the heavy financial drain, there is a movement toward collaboration among the congregations in a geographic area. This is a positive development that could lead to good care for the religious and lower financial costs. Some groups that have larger facilities are opening them to other congrega-tions. Some small congregations in a given area are studying the feasibility of establishing an intercongregational nursing home. A few religious leaders are looking at ways to provide for their mem-bers in general nursing homes in their area. All of these steps are difficult. Often the members of a con-gregation are very unwilling to have their elderly cared for away .~dy-August 199Y 509 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years from their own motherhouse. At times the elderly themselves feel that they are being mistreated by being separated from their tra-ditional homes. Only a few consider it a good thing to be in a nursing home of mixed patients, men and women, religious and lay, in spite of the pastoral potential of such a model. The efforts of leaders and the combined efforts of congrega-tions to deal with both the physical realities and the psychologi-cal and religious values are important ones. Key for the leaders will be understanding, patience, and collaborative stances. For the members, those who are elderly and those who are not, it is important to develop an acceptance of the reality they face and a willingness to keep their last days congruent with what has gone before. I suggest that this requires ongoing education for every-one and a spirituality that looks at one's last days as continuous with the dedication of earlier days. Religious Retirement In our efforts to prepare one another for "retirement," we may have bought into a model that was emerging after World War II and continues to develop in terms of what aging and retir-ing are all about. This brings me to the second topic, the one which will constitute the major portion of this article. It is all the more important because it bears upon the first as well. It has to do with how we are viewing retirement. I believe that we have accepted a way of looking at retirement which is increasingly being challenged in the population at large and that we need to study it in the light of what our entire religious life is about. Several aspects of this model of retirement raise new questions. The current model in the United States assumes that people will retire at sixty-five if not earlier. When Social Security became a reality in the 1930s, life expectancy was lower, many people did hard physical labor and had relatively poor nutritional histories, and their hope was simply that at retirement they could stop working without worry about becoming dependent on their chil-dren or "ending up in the poorhouse." Today life expectancy is much higher, and the reality is that many people stay active, healthy, and alert for twenty years and longer after they retire. A second aspect, then, is that retirement is a time of not work-ing and, instead, spending one's time and energy at play of one sort or another. (Married women often have less of the play since 510 Review for Religious they are still expected to do the work of keeping up the home.) A problem here is that many retired people soon become bored with the play aspect. Some move toward part-time jobs or vol-unteer work, while others become captives of the television or the endless bingo games of our less creative senior centers. A third aspect of the current model that deserves examina-tion is the tendency to move away from the place where most of life was spent. This sometimes has to do with seeking a warmer climate or more economical housing. The result is that, as peo-ple age, they are out of regular con-tact with their family and must develop new friends. Even the elderly who manage well on their own in their original home are often under pressure from relatives and friends to find a smaller place-- which often takes them away from the community in which they have close ties and away from some sig-nificant activities that they could otherwise keep up. People are living longer while remaining physically and mentally vigorous, and yet the model of retirement continues to treat them as if they cannot do anything but play. What is being lost is the opportunity for them to contribute to family, to friends, to com-munity, in a different way than during their working years, but a way that is significant and needed. What is being lost to society at large is the accumulated wisdom of the elderly, a loss our soci-ety cannot afford. It would be a shame for religious congregations to follow the national model for retirement too closely. While few if any con-gregations have fixed ages of retirement from major involvement in ministries, there has been a subtle movement over the last few decades to start "thinking about retirement" while the religious are in their fifties. Without necessarily meaning to do so, this has too frequently led to a mentality that places retiring somewhere in the sixties, even if there is no real reason to do so. I have vis-ited motherhouses where some of the sisters appear to have retired Although the idea that play is the major activity of the retired has not taken hold so completely in religious congregations, what has developed is a sense that this is my time to do with as I wish. J-uly-dugust 199Y 511 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years far too soon and are desperate for some way to be involved in ministry. Mthough the idea that play is the major activity of the retired has not taken hold so completely in religious congregations, what has developed is a sense that this is my time to do with as I wish. Especially in motherhouses, which tend to be out in the country or relatively isolated, this leads to a combination of small tasks around the motherhouse, activities that mimic the senior citizens' centers, and some increased emphasis on the spiritual life without much attention to how that might be different at this stage of life. Often when I talk with the retired themselves I find a deep longing for two things: to find some meaningful part-time min-istry and to explore what spiritual life means at this latter stage of life. When retirement takes place at a motherhouse, you find the same isolation from community that the lay elderly experience who move to Florida. While most religious have lived and worked in a number of places, there was always the parish, the school or hospital, sometimes the neighborhood, as a framework for involve-ment and support. This is now gone, and the beautiful grounds of the motherhouse, the special facilities, and sometimes the large numbers (for those, notably, who were used to smaller groups) are no substitute for what has been lost. Religious do not, on the whole, do a lot of complaining, but the sense of loss is often heard in the undertones of a conversation. We hear ". everything is so nice here., everyone is so kind . . . but."--and the long-ing is very real. I am increasingly convinced that elderly religious should, whenever possible, have the same choices as the younger members. This stage of life is important, and it needs to be rec-ognized as such. In the remainder of this article, I want to address two impor-tant things about aging and retirement for religious: (1) the sec-ond half of life as a time of deepening wisdom and individuation, a time for a greater spirituality to emerge, and (2) the role of elderly religious in continuing the mission of Jesus. For many ideas here, it will be evident that I am indebted to Carl Jung, but also to a fascinating book by Jane R. Pr~tat on the croning years (1994). As I read her book, I found myself dwelling on several ideas: that our society wastes the wisdom of the elderly at a time when we need it most; that aging is not just something that hap-pens, but a part of the whole picture of life; and that much of 512 Review for Religious what is wrong in contemporary ways of looking at and dealing with aging in general are found also in regard to aging among religious, especially in how we treat the reality we call "retire-ment." The Second Half of Life Some years ago a large number of articles, workshops, and counseling programs focused on a particular transition seen as noteworthy, the "mid-life crisis." This concept seems, from a Jungian point of view, relevant to the developmental model's tran-sition from the first to the second half of life. This division into two halves does not have a chronological point, just ~s mid-life cannot be tied to a specific number of years of life. The first half of life is devoted to infancy, childhood, and young adulthood inso-far as these parts of life have to do with coming to know the world around ourselves, coming to an understanding of who we are as separate from our parents, learning, developing a working career, and moving to success within that career. At the midpoint, we might wake up in the morning and ask: Is this all there is to life? How we answer that question may indicate if the second half of life is about to begin. If the answer is "Yes, this is it!" we could spend the rest of our life simply as a continuation of the first half until death. If the answer is "No, there is something more!" we could enter into the second half of life. In the second half of life, the tasks shift to integration of the parts that have been separated during the first half, the move-ment toward individuation, coming to know ourselves in a dif-ferent way, and the decision to move toward wisdom. The "wise old man" and "wise old woman" archetypes begin to emerge dur-ing the early part of this second half of life. I believe that many people make the shift to the second half of life without ever hear-ing about Jung or his developmental theories. They recognize that something is changing in themselves, and they move with those changes. Some of the "play" elements of retirement--the programs for senior citizens that involve bingo, excursions, and hobbies--could be considered a return to an early part of the first half of lifel Now that we have done our work, earned our pension, we can again become the children whose task is play. For people with a limited field of interests, this may mean watching television for ffuly-August 1995 513 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years As we age; there is often a longing for a deeper understanding, a greater closeness to God. It is a normal part of the second half of life. long hours of the day and night. This is to remain in the first half of life, possibly until death, without ever taking the step into the second half. For other people, the leisure activities are part of their under-standing of where they are in terms of age, but other aspects also begin to emerge. Spending time with their children and grand-children can be a way of being the elder who is communicating the lore and the wisdom of life. This is a second-half activity and one much needed in today's culture, in which single-parent families and families with both parents working are becoming the norm. Contact with the older generation, with grandparents, . uncles, and aunts, which for long years was the norm, now is the excep-tion in many families. Wisdom also has to do with com-ing to a deeper knowledge of God, a greater and deeper integration of the spiritual life. For many people, life has been so busy, so full of duties, that the spiritual life was relegated to a set of rituals honored on a daily, weekly, or yearly basis. As we age, there is often a longing for a deeper understanding, a greater closeness to God. It is a normal part of the second half of life. In some cases it is connected with daily Mass for people who during their working years were quite con-tent with the Sunday Mass; it may mean a return to some of the religious practices of childhood; sometimes it is :a search for deeper intimacy with God. This longing belongs to the wisdom quest of this second stage. Religious, hopefully, have not stinted on their attention to the spiritual and to God's presence all through the active first half of their life. Yet the sense that the latter half of life has some-thing special to offer is found among them as well. One cannot deny, though, that some religious at this stage seem to put i:he haain emphasis on play. Their way of playing may be different, but it is still play and may involve television, novel reading, trips to the casino with the senior citizens' group, and considerable family visiting. 514 Review for Religious As a country we have to explore how to make the wisdom of the elders available to our children and to our busy adults. In the extended family of the past, this happened very simply. At one time in my childhood, I went every Friday after school to my grandparents' home so that on Saturday morning I could help .my grandmother with some of the cleaning she found difficult to do. What I remember most is conversations after supper on Friday with my grandfather, who told me the stories of his youth when he was an organizer of the unions in the steel mills of Pittsburgh. I also remember listening to music on the radio, and all three of us reading our separate books or magazines. Elderly religious off in motherhouses and retirement centers lose their easy contact with yoilnger religious, lose casual opportunities to share their wisdom with them, just as grandparents nowadays are often in other states where spending time with their grandchildren is no longer 'possible. In some motherhouses there are now prayer centers and renewal centers that give workshops and courses for sisters and lay people who are interested. At one point I had a constant flow of their catalogues coming across my desk. Fine as many of these centers are, I rarely saw anything that addressed the need for exploring the spirituality of the latter half of life, of the retirement years. Yet in those same houses I often met older sisters who longed for scripture study, for prayer assistance, for some way of understanding and developing the spirit life for this special part of their earthly sojourn. Some Strategies for the Second Half of Life It seems to me, then, that there are two things leadership would do well to do~ (1)to make it possible for elderly religious (granted their varying degrees of diminished energy) to continue to be involved in meaningful ministries that connect with the congregation's charism and mission and (2) to make conscious efforts to help the elderly religious move through the integrative work of the second half of their life in a way that is just as appro-priate as the novitiate training was for the first half. ., I live in a parish at present where more than half of the sis-ters in the local convent are well into the second half of their life and thus are no longer able to be involved full-time in the min-istries of their congregation. The congregation is a teaching one, jg~uly-August 1995 515 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years staffing many parish and,diocesan schools. A few of the sisters teach in the parish school, others commute to diocesan high schools, and the older sisters are engaged in time,limited but very vital ministries, These include teaching and tutoring in the adult literacy center, tutoring children from the grade school, and vis-iting elderly shut-ins 'in the neighborhood. None of these are full-time involvements. In some cases the sisters go to the school, in others the students come to them in the convent. Whenever I meet with these women, I am struck by the joy and peace that are obvious in them. Not everyone can be placed in a parish convent. Some of our elderly need to be in places like motherhouses where their greater physical needs can be provided for. It is sometimes possible to bring ministries to these motherhouses and at the same time pro-vide a wonderful service to others. I have been to motherhouses where there was day care for children in some parts of the build-ing and day care for ~he elderly in other parts. Two wonderful things happened there daily. The children and the elderly spent some time together every day, and both benefited by the experi-ence. The staff of both facilities had "assistants" from among the retired sisters who, like the women in my parish, could not work full-time, but could be counted on for blocks of time on .a regu-lar basis to help with both groups of day-care clients. o To keep our religious involved as long as possible has another imp.ortant benefit. Most o£ the research on the aging process shows that, if people stay physically and mentally active, they stay healthy longer and age more slowly. We have wonderful examples of very elderly people maintaining their mental and physical capacities long past the expected time and making contributions to art, 'literature,. and the commonweal. Even more important, this is a time when .religious can begin to share the wisdom that has come to them with age, experience, and deep reflection on the meaning of life. This is a wisdom that is very much needed in our culture, a wisdom that too often the children and young peo-ple do.not find around them. Religious can become, in~ a very real way, the grandparent figures ifi their parishes, neighborhoods, and institutions. This is the wisdom of experience joined with reflec-tion upon that experience. 0 The second thing needing attention from leadership is the effort to help religious .use their latter years creatively in order to move toward the union with God that has been such a part of our 516 Review for Religious thinking throughout life. Many of the forms of prayer and spiri-tuality that are helpful to members of active religious congrega-tions during their early and middle years are apostolically oriented. Appropriately, the religious appreciate seeing a close connection between their ministry and their spirituality. The inner life and the outer life are integrated, ideally, in a rich and vibrant way. Changes take place as religious move through the early years of the second half of life. Spending less time and energy in direct apostolic efforts, they have more time for more leisurely ways of praying. They are ready for the next stage of devel-opment of their inner life. Their focus at this stage is somewhat different from that of their early and middle years. It has within it many of the same elements, but also some new ones. In this stage the elderly may desire to recall or renew some of the things they learned in earlier years, but did not have time to savor and assim-ilate. Frequently they speak of their desire for scripture classes, for prayer workshops. These can be useful, but they need to be focused clearly and carefully on the latter years. Now the emphasis is not on quantities of information, but rather on depth, on quiet composure and integration within each individual's inner reality. The wisdom years are the time when the. "wise old woman" and "wise old man" archetypes come to the fore. While the wis-dom can be for oneself, it is even more for others. At this stage there is not likely to be any necessity to go out and preach or teach, but there should be a simple and peaceful realization that the wisdom being garnered is also for others. This is why it is important during these years: for religious to have two areas of concern: one for the continuing development of the wisdom that has been growing in them over the years, and the other for shar-ing that wisdom, very simply and directly, with others. As religious move along through this final stage of life, it is essential that they have the assistance they need to foster the growth of their inner life, to be more open to wisdom, and that they have opportunity to share it with others. Thus, the ending of Most of the research on the aging process shows that, if people stay physically and mentally active, they stay healthy longer and age more slowly. ~uly-August 199Y 517 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years life can be as full and as rich spiritually as any of the earlier stages, and it can be lived out in a truly mission-centered way. This will enrich the lives of the elderly religious themselves, but also of those who are yearning for that wisdom and do not yet know where to find it. It will bring a fullness to the lives of the "retired" and of those around them. It will be a far happier period than one given to play, television, and various excursions. Religious have frequently been the pacesetters in ministry. Perhaps it is time for the "retired" religious to begin to model to other retirees a richer, fuller, and more outwardly directed wisdom retirement. References Johnston, Charles M. Necessary Wisdom: Meeting the Challenge of a New Cultural Maturity. Seattle: ICD Press, 1991. Pr~tat, Jane R. Coming to Age: The Croning Years and Late-Life Transformations. Toronto: Inner City Books, 1994. Exposition Bless you, caress you~ enfold and possess you. Blessed by you, caressed by you, enfolded within you. Possessed. Chris Mannion FMS 518 Review for Religious TAD DUNNE The Enneagram Since the. early 1970s, religious educators, spiritual men-tors, retreat directors, and, most recently, management trainers have been talking about the "enneagram." 1 The theory proposes that each person is hooked by one of nine psychological compulsions--similar to the seven "capital" sins in classical Christian literature? Dozens of authors. and lecturers nowadays are teaching the theory to help people discover which of the nine compulsions is theirs and bow to accomplish their psychological liberation from it. The nine types are often referred to in caricatures: the Perfectionist, the Helper, ~he Status Seeker, the Sensitive Artist, the Observer, the Accuser, the Planner, the Bully, and the Slug.3 To edch of these descriptions, enneagram teachers attach longer descriptions of phobias, ambitions, expectations, learning style, sexual dynamics, management style, virtues, prides, blind spots, fixations, senses of time, and so on. The r~lations among the com-pulsions are represented by a circle whose circumference is numbered, at nine equidistant points. Within the circle is a triangle drawn from points three to six to nine. Also within the circle is a folded hexagon drawn through the Tad Dunne is an adjunct professor of medical ethics at Marygrove College, Detroit, and a management consultant for Blue Cross and Blue Shield of Michigan. He has published Spiritual Mentoring (HarperSanFrancisco) and Lonergan and Spirituality (Loyola University Press). He may be addressed at 2923 Woodslee; Royal Oak, Michigan 48073. guidance July-August 199Y 519 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram cycle 1-4-2-8-5-7-1. This strange figure has become the logo of the enneagram system. Enneagram and Myers-Briggs People often compare the enneagram to the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, which classifies sixteen personality types accord-ing to one's preference for ways of noticing experience and mak-ing decisions. The chief difference between them is that the Myers-Briggs instrument indicates personal preferences, all of which are psychologically normal, while the enneagram indicates pathologies. That is, in the Myers-Briggs'all the types are healthy, while in the enneagram all the types are sick. So the Myers-Briggs is useful for accommodating one's own thinking style with col-laborators'; it helps groups identify the preferences for ways of learning and evaluating that exist,among their members and to deploy their relative .strengths accordingly. The enneagram, in contrast, is useful for identifying neuroses, mostly in oneself. The Myers-Briggs indicator, rooted in Jungian psychology, carries a positive attitude toward human consciousness, whereas the ennea-gram, rooted partly in Freudian psychology, takes a more suspi-cious stand. Few psyqhologists, however, rely on either tool for diagnostic purposes, because of an absence of empirical studies that correlate with validated' tests. Among other helping professionals, the Myers-Briggs indi-cator enjoys a wider and less controversial reputation than the enneagram. The sixteen preferences are easily understood; one can readily find Jung's comments on people's preferences between extraversion and introversion, between sensate observation and intuition, and between thinking and feeling.4 The enneagram, in contrast, has sources shrouded in arcane knowledge from a cor-ner of the Sufi tradition unknown to most Sufis and from George Ivanovich Gurdjieff, a self-styled visionary from Russia with dubi-ous credentials. The many enneagram books and tapes that have been published in the last decade tend to describe each of the nine compialsions in dogmatic terms--a style of presentation that allures some but alienates others,s 520 Some Positive Aspects of the Enneagram One of the most disturbing claims made by enneagram devo- Review for Religious tees is that these nine types cover the total human range of com-pulsions. Not ten, not eight.6 There are subsets among the nine, but these supposedly cover all possibilities. Devotees base this claim on an unfamiliar model of personality and on the ennea-gram logo, whose origins are untraceable.7 But what is really dis-turbing is that, despite the dogmatic claims of the theory and an absence of experiment-based research, it is difficult to find any-one who fails to fit one of the types. Enneagram fans in the help-ing professions, after years of working with the tool, feel that these nine are just about right. And individuals claim that the enneagram has helped them to reach a deeper understanding of their personal compulsions than any other self-help system has, In other words, this weird, unempirical, upsetting, gnostic, and mys-tifying map of the psyche seems to work. In 1990 Claudio Naranjo MD published Ennea-Type Structures: Self-Analysis for the Seeker. Enneagram students were eager to read what he had to say, since he led the development o_f the the-ory among English-speaking publics. His book, the smallest I know of on the subject, builds the theory on much more solid ground. That book is now out of print, but has been incorpo-rated in Naranjo's new and expanded volume, Character and Neurosis, published in 1994. Naranjo lends legitimacy to the theory in several ways. Unlike most other enneag.ram authors, who tend to pile adjective upon adjective and style upon style to cover the many variations possi-ble within each compulsion, Naranjo,keeps the set of descriptors limited. He wants these descriptors to function the way they func-tion in clinical manuals such as the DSM tli, namely, as a list of discreet phenomena sufficient to distinguish one type from another? By describing diseases with as little overlap as possible, he enables therapists to spot the core problem more quickly and waste less time on manifestations of the problem shared with other compulsions. Naranjo also takes pains to make a distinction between pas-sions (anger, envy, gluttony, and so forth) and the cognitive errors that underlie each passion. These errors amount to uncrit-ical assumptions about what life is like--the kind of oversimpli-fied worldview (and subsequent inappropriate adaptive routines) that Ellis deals with in his rational-emotive therapy.9 By pin-pointing cognitive errors, Naranjo believes, a person can iden-tify and dissolve his or her pet myths in order to rob the j~uly-August 199~ 521 Dunne * The Enneagram corresponding passion of its rationale and thereby weaken its grip on the psyche. Another contribution Naranjo makes to the theory is that he consistently explains the psychological dynamics at work in each compulsion, rather than just stating them. By appealing to his readers' understanding rather than their memory, he invites them to consult the workings of their own psyches to verify the pres-ence of certain subconscious routines. This is no small achievement. The mind is easily content with a notional familiarity with terms. Only under the whip of intel-lectual desire will we push forward to uncover for ourselves some of our psychic gremlins that have never seen the light of con-sciousness. Likewise the heart is easily comforted with comfort-able feelings; it takes an inner discipline, responsible to no one but oneself, to face up to the discomforts of acting responsibly. In my limited experience of teaching the theory, I found that many students find it too difficult to allow the teaching to break through their automatic defenses and deal with their hidden fears and cravings. The enneagram doctrine just feeds a ravenous compul-sion. So the Status Seeker uses the enneagram to advance her own reputation. The Observer uses it to gather yet further infor-mation before he ventiares out into the world. And so on. Enneagram work is particularly difficult for teachers. They are tempted to devour the lore with teaching in mind, not learn-ing. The work, however, is for people on a personal mission-- those who possess enough self-knowledge to know they are learners in the school of self-knowledge. Much of Naranjo's prose envisions a therapeutic setting in which a seeker looks to a men-tor for guidance. The aim of the therapy is not to settle what our basic compulsion is, as if from that point on we know what box we are in. The therapeutic outcome is not to identify a conceptual scheme that sometimes describes our behavior. The desired out-come is to understand specific experiences of being not our best selves, using conceptual schemes as initial indicators of what may be causing the trouble. This is why it is important to hold the enneagram types at arm's length. Although some people seem to fit a single type per-fectly, others seem to fit several types. Are these latter persons-- whose self-deceit eludes everyone's analysis--all the while being victims of only a single compulsion? Or have they really developed several distinct alternatives to authentic living? Practically speak- 522 Review for Religious ing, it makes no difference so long as users rely on the ennea-gram as nothing more than clusters of fixations and behaviors that logically hang together. Their conceptual consistency is merely a model to help people raise relevant questions about the inner events that possess a slippery logic of their own. Besides his economy of description and his reliance on per-sonal understanding, a further significant contribution Naranjo makes to the theory lies in how he has analyzed the connection between psychological difficulties and exis-tential decisions about being human. Going beyond Oscar Ichazo, from whom he first learned the theory, as well as beyond the people who had already published his enneagram material, Naranjo bases each psychological dynamic in a fundamental spiritual crisis he calls "ontic obscuration," which is a kind of a deafness to our inner drives to be authentic persons. He proposes that, just as certain cognitive errors under' lie each passion, so certain existential fail-ures underlie each cognitive error. This is significant because it puts the focus directly on the inner work of being fully human. Other authors settle for cate-gorizing people by behavior patterns or look to childhood trau-mas to explain present weirdness--the kinds of analyses commonly found in popular psychology. Indeed, popular psychology usually lacks the words and ideas with which to reflect on that innermost work of authenticity. But, by paying direct attention to "ontic obscuration," individuals can discover that a major driver behind their compulsive responses lies in how seriously they take those quiet impulses to be fully human or else how consistently they have avoided the inner work involved in staying human. This "ontic obscuration" underlies each compulsion in its own manner. The Slug stands at the center, having thoroughly obscured inner voices about how to be one's truest self. The Bully and the Perfectionist hear the voices dimly, but respond through a focus on externals, especially through various forms of anger they feel because things are not what they should be. The Helper, the Status Seeker, and the Sensitive Artist hear the voices, but they divert their desire to become fully human persons into Enneagram work is particularly difficult for teachers. They are tempted to devour the lore with teaching in mind, not learning. ~uly-Augtwt 199Y 523 Dunne ¯ The Enneag'ram becoming just persons whose image carries clout in the lives of o.thers. The Planner, the Accuser, and the Observer also hear the voiceS, but they divert a fear of not becoming fully human into strategies designed to protect the little bits of personhood they believe they possess.l° ¯ Naranjo refers to this approach as his "Nasruddin" theory. The story goes that this mullah was crawling around in an alley near a marketplace, searching for the key to his house. A friend joined in the search and, after finding nothing, asked the mul-lah, "Are you sure you lost the key around here?" The mullah responded, "No, I lost it at home." The friend naturally asked, "Then why are you looking for the key here?" The mullah replied, "The light is much better here." 1, The point is that we often look for the key to our house out under the sun, where everything seems clear. But the key is in the house, an~l the house is dark. The Existential Questign: How Should I Be? For all the benefits ofNaranjo's "ontic obscuration," he does not explain in precise terms what being human involves; he set-tles for a description of some effects of"obscuration." For exam-ple, "loss of a sense of I-am-ness" and "something missing inside.''12 At times he presumes that deep down people really know the experience of "ontic obscuration." At other times he claims that the obscuration itself prevents people from realizing that any kind of obscuration has occurred. So, while it is appro-priate for him to recommend that the seeker find a mentor to help recognize a compulsion, the theory would benefit also from a positive understanding of just what it is that "ontic obscura-tion" obscures. To uncover this prize, we need to reflect on how being human happens to be obscured ifi the first place. Most psychologists agree that the intellect of children develops not only in the amount of information they learn but, more significantly, in whether or not they learn certain higher-level intellectual skills for understanding their experiences. So Naranjo's "ontic obscura-tion'? indicates, not a breakdown in mental development, but rather an unfinished development. It is not a matter of having obscured what once was clear; it is a matter of having been born blind and gradually learning how to see. 524 Review for Religious The developmental problem is how to move from a world of images, behaviors, symbols, and external sensations to the larger world of meaning and values. As children we were able to pose questions about being human only by using images. Should I be pushy? Compliant? Generous? Teacherly? Observant? Like a lion? A turtle? A bird? A monkey? Early successful functioning of one of these styles sets up a habit and provides evidence that the world around us must be of such and such a nature--the one that matches our chosen strategy. To the Bully, then, the world is dog-eat- dog; to the Accuser, the world is ridden with crooks. We build up a behavioral style and support it with a cognitive belief in a par-ticular strategy like one of those described in .the enneagram: being correct, being related, being impressive, being the victim, being retentive, being wary, being pleasing, being pugnacious, or being deaf. We become capable of noticing our compulsions as such only later, when we learn that proper use of our minds and hearts is more important than proper behavior and that intelligent analy-sis and reasonable judgment put us in touch with the real world far better than myths and symbols can. Only p~ople who have learned to think about inner acts of meaning can make a statement such as "There I go again" as they catch on to unreal thinking and feeling. ~ .~ This learning represents a major jump in thinking skills. A person discovers that the world is not just "already out there.''Is The real world is also the invisible world made up of the acts of meaning that occur in people's minds and hearts: the agreements, the plans, the guiding ideas, the reigning values, the loyalties, the spites, the memories, the laws, and the internalized language of the place. Former precepts such as Be corre'ct~ Be connected, Be suc-cessful, and Be the martyr were established in the mind of a~child who had no alternative but to think with pictures and symbols. Bht, in the world of meaning and values, learning how to be human ought to transcend these image-based precepts and adopt precepts based on the functions of the mind and heart. Bernard Lonergan, the late Canadian philosopher whose Insight and Method in Theology have influenced many practitioners in the human and natural sciences, has identified five such func-tion- based precepts. They are: Be attentive, Be intelligent, Be reasonable, Be responsible, Be in love.'4 These voices are in all of us. They are active long before we notice them as distinct July-August 199Y 525 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram impuls.es. Although they still escape the notice of many psychol-ogists as being the most fundamental impulses that make us fully human, they are the living source of our ability to notice, under-stand, realize, take responsibility, and love, For Lonergan, these five precepts support a highly-structured method for the human sciences. But, for people seeking to under-stand their inner compulsions, they can also provide a normal way of referring to the task of being fully human. They can rep-resent the very operations that "ontic obscuration" obscures. These are the events that promise to bring a person to what Naranjo, in a more descriptive and less precise mode, calls "the integrated wholeness of one's experience"; "true aliveness, a sense of existing, a plenitude"; "finding value in the present and the actual.''ts These function-based ~precepts not only transcend image-based precepts; they also enable people to transcend who they are and to rise toward being who they are to be. Lonergan refers to these precepts as "the transcendental precepts." A Therapy of Love The question of how we should be does not end there. While people might rely on a diagnostic tool such as the enneagram to recognize self-defeating thoughts before they become actions, they also need a therapy to help recognize self-transcending thoughts and feelings. This means learning firsthand the differ-ence between the transcendental precepts and their opposites: between being attentive and being oblivious, being intelligent and being stupid, being reasonable and being silly, being respon-sible and being irresponsible, and being loving and being hateful. While anyone can recognize abstractly the contrast between these words, the right-hand members of the pairs conspire quite suc-cessfully to obscure their own functioning right behind our eyes. Fortunately, this conspiracy can be caught in the act. By know-ingly paying attention to the transcendental precepts, we can be more attentive to inner experience. We can be more intelligent about how certain cognitive errors and existential decisions sup-port our compulsions. We can be more reasonable as we admit the truth of how thoroughly our fixation may have dominated our psyches. We can be more responsible in accepting guilt that belongs to us, in shunning guilt that is unreasonable, and in sup-pressing what compulsions we can as they arise. Most wisely, we 526 Review for Religious can let our love for others take the lead more often, including and especially our love for God. When a person falls in love, he or she suddenly sees the exter-nal world as more beautiful, more full of potential, more worthy of respect and care. What has occurred, though, is not a change in the external world one views; it is a self-transcending change in the viewer. Being in love heals much of ~' what was crippled in the other four levels of the person's self-transcendence. That is, being in love gives courage to respon-sibility, realism to reason, insight to intel-ligence, and acumen to attention. The person has risen above the imprisoned self and realized something of the profound marvels of life, nature, and the friendly character of the universe. Love's healing power is evident in the love between friends, within a family, and among fellow citizens and members of a group. It is also evident in the love of God. People who have undergone a religious conversion, whether in a sudden inner revolution or a gradual takeover, experience three new powers. The~y see goodness where the unconverted see only evil. They feel a power to reach out to others at a higher risk to themselves than self-protecting reason would allow. And, after the worst setbacks, they find themselves soon on their feet, mys-teriously alive and submissive to the impulse to love again26 More can be said about the healing effects of religious love, but this milch illustrates how an analysis of our self-transcending acts clar-ifibs'what "being human" means and reveals the available powers that "o'ntic obscuration" obscures. Further analysis along these lines would complement any instance of healing with a thera-peutic theory consistent with religious love. Notice especially how the addition of this account of self-transcendence avoids the typi~cal trap of self-help psychologies. It makes clear that people do not help themselves all by them-selves. When i't is the self that needs help, "self-help" is a con-tradiction in terms. Genuine help must be imported. We rely on each other and we rely on God. In order to let go of our worries that our failures will be someh6w held against us, we rely on the fact that we are loved. Being in love gives courage to responsibility, realism to reason, insight to intelligence, and acumen to attention. Ju~-August199y 527 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram The work of making all this real for oneself is long and hard. It might go something like this: Suppose I typically play the Sensitive Artist, envious of the personas of others and absorbing my injuries in quiet melancholy. I should first keep a diary to log the times I notice my compulsion at work, in order to grow in the habit of noticing, t~nderstanding~ and gradually realizing how precisely my frustrated desire to be a notable person works. (Naranjo suggests that this work on autobiography may take three or four months.) ~7 At the same time, as I grow in self-realization, I should grow in self-responsibility. When I hear the inner voice saying "Be sensitive, be like so-and-so," I should say "Shut up!" and then bend an ear to the quieter voices of authenticity whis-pering, "Just be attentive, intelligent, reasonable, responsible, and in love. Being that is a quite good enough way to be your best." Then, alongside the inner work of self-reflection, I should let myself connect with others. Although Naranjo believes that his book can help a person avoid high-minded and patronizing therapists, I find it hard to imagine people really benefiting from it unless they talk about this inner work with others. Being con-nected to others means obeying the transcendental precept to Be in love. That means letting my love for others be the light that revdals what is truly worth doing, rather than mere consistency or some private ethical principle. Because genuine love heals irre-sponsibility, silliness, stupidity, and inattention, the test of genuine love will be just that: Does it make me more responsible, more ready to face truth, more functionally intelligent, more on the lookout for what really counts? If it does not, it is not love. The inner work also means letting myself be loved. For most of us, with our distorted self-images, this means facing the fact that despite our faults, despite the injuries we have caused others, the person who claims to love us is telling the truth. It means dropping the flimsy defense that "you don't really know me" and admitting that the point is not whether we are fully known, but whether we are appreciated and valued for ourselves. It means realizing that we will never be perfect, that we do not need to expend that much energy defending ourselves, that we do not even need to "fix" ourselves through diligent self-therapy. Unless we rely on God and other people for forgiveness, tolerance, and patience, no pathology or self-help therapy will work. This is only an example of finding our way home. Different people will find different paths. But at least knowing what being 528 Review.for Religious human is about shows us what our home looks like. Gradually-- never fully being, but always becoming, human--we will have returned. We can come in and go out as we please. We will have found our home's key: the house is no longer dark. Notes ~ Enneagram, coined from Greek, means "ninefold marking." 2 Capital means that the sins are principal or "head" (capita) sins from which people's other sins flow. Althofigh the enneagram seems to have arisen independently of the Christian tradition, seven of its compulsions match the seven capital sins. The remaining two are bogus morality (Accuser) and bogus success (Status Seeker). 3 No two authors agree on these generic names, but there is general agreement about the descriptions of each type~ Devotees often refer just to the number, as in "She's a raving Two!" (a Helper). 4 See C.G. Jung, Paychological Types (New York: Harcourt, Brace, and Co., 1926), chap. 10. Isabel Briggs Myers and her mother, Katharine C. Briggs, developed the fourth pair of preferences, judging and perceiv-ing, based on further observations made byJung. Note that they realize that its usefulness applies mainly to the young. See Isabel Briggs Myers, Introduction to Type (Gainesville, Florida: Center for Publications' of Psychological Types, 1962), p. 8. s The works on which I have based my remarks are: Maria Beesing et al., The Enneagram: A Journey of Self Discovery (Denville: Dimension Books, 1984); Kathleen Hurley and Theodore Dobson, What's My Type? Use the Enneagram and My Best Self (HarperSanFrancisco, 1991 and 1993); Claudio Naranjo, Ennea-Type Structures: Self-Analysis for the Seeker and Character and Neurosis: An Integrative View (Nevada City: Gateways, 1990 and 1994); Helen Pahner, The Enneagram (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1988); Don Richard Riso, Personality Types: Using the Enneagram for Self-Discovery (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1987). I have also relied on various notes taken by students participating in workshops given by Naranjo and others who derive the substance of their doctrine from him. 6 An exception'is Hurley and Dobson, My Best Self, identifying two distinct compulsions in both the Status Seeker and the Accuser, making a total of eleven compulsions. In .any case, there are no enneagram the-orists I know of who have dealt with the fundamental problem of how to set a limit to types. If there is such a limit, then the types will have to be defined by a set of psychological conditions that are limited and verifiable. For example, Karen Horney's division of three reactions to conflict (against people, toward people, away from people) might be matched against three I-world comparisons (bigger than, equal to, smaller than) to generate exactly nine types. Or against the trio Denial, Overconfidence, Underconfidence. The trio Ignorance, Craving, and Fear seems to under-lie Naranjo's thinking. There are many possibilities. This kind of work will 3~ly-August 1995 529 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram be necessary if the professional psychological community is ever to give credence to the theory and, more to the point, if the theory is ever to be shown to explain the actual range of human compulsions. 7 Gurdjieff, the teacher of this model of personality, claims to have discovered the enneagram in the Sufi tradition, but there is little evi-dence in Sufism of any of the heavy interpretative overlay that it now carries. Gurdjieff's confidence in the diagram seems based on numerol-ogy rather than experiment, and he expected that the diagram could rep-resent any human or natural process. 8 Diagnostic and Stat#tical Manual of Mental Disorders III (Washington, D.C.: American Psychiatric Association, 1987). 0 9 See Albert Ellis, Reason and Emotion in Psychotherapy (New York: Lyle Stuart, 1963), chap. 3, "Irrational Ideas Which Cause and Sustain Emotional Disturbances," pp, 60-88. l0 The reader should note inconsistencies in the enneagram designs. In Naranjo's Character and Neurosis, pp. 199 and 245, and throughout his Ennea-Type Structures, the triangle arrows run clockwise. Everywhere else in Character and Neurosis, they run counterclockwise. tt Naranjo, Ennea-Type Structures, pp. xix-xx, and Character and Neurosis, p 36. Hereafter page references will be to Ennea-Type Structures, with corresponding references to Character and Neurosis in italics. ~2 See pp. 30/61 and 63/219. He also describes ontic obscuration as: "obscuration . . . of the natural, original, and truest support for one's sense of personal value" (45/196); "the universal pain of fallen con-sciousness, beyond type-bound characteristics" (45/196); "lack of ground-ingin being" (107/197); and "loss of wholeness and sense of being" (138/150). o 13 Walter Burghardt SJ notes that John Courtney Murray relies on this distinction to clarify how weak the old Catholic reliance on dogma-tism really was. See "The Richness of a Resource," in A Spirituality for Contemporary Life, ed. David L. Fleming SJ (St. Louis: Review for Religious, 1991). Murray may well have relied on Lonergan's Insight (New York: Philosophical Library, 1958) for this notion (for which, see real in its index). 14 See Method in Theology (New York: Herder and Herder, 1972), pp. 53, 55, and passim. I have developed these notions more at length in Lonergan and Spirituality (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1985) and Spiritual Mentoring (HarperSanFrancisco, 199 I). Is Naranjo, pp. 47/197, 92/94, and 125/173. 16 These powers are traditionally called faith, charity, and hope. I have avoided the traditional terms in an effort to avoid conceptualism and to make clear how religious love heals the injured psyche. 17 Naranjo, p. 158/275. 530 Review for Religious MARY WINIFRED Imaging Spiritual Direction Ipn spite of a plethora of spiritual direction programs pur-orting to train those who would be spirithal directors, it remains a fact that gifts of direction are just that--gifts, not learned skills. Spiritual direction involves listening and hearing, discernment, clarity of vision, and assistance in the development of a relationship between an 'individual and God. While learned skills may assist a spiritual director, it is only deep sensitivity devel-oped through years of personal prayer that enables true spiritual direction. It is often easier to say what spiritual direction is not, than to describe what it is. For example, spiritual direction is not psychotherapy; it is not life skills taught by a social worker; it is not catechistic training for specific church membership. " In a pamphlet entitled Spiritual Direction, Henri Nouwen says: "It is of great value to submit our prayer life from time to time to the supervision of a spiritual guide. A spiritual director in this strict sense is not a counselor, a therapist, or an analyst, but a mature fellow Christian to whom we choose to be accountable for our spiritual life and from whom we can expect prayerful guid-ance in our constant struggle to discern God's active presence in our lives, A spiritual director can be called 'soul friend' (Kenneth I2eech) or a" 'spiritual friend' (Tilden Edwards). It is important that he or she practice the disciplines of the Church and the Book and thus become familiar with.the space in which we try to listen to God's voice. The way we relate to our spiritual director depends very much on our needs, our personalities, and external circum-stances. Some people may want to see their spiritual director Mary Winifred CtlS is the Sister-in-Charge of St. Cuthbert's Retreat House; Federal Hill Road; Brewster, New York 10509. ¯ July-August 199Y S31 Winifred ¯ Imaging Spiritual Direction biweekly or monthly, others will find it sufficient to be in touch only when the occasion asks for it. Some people may feel the need for a more extensive sharing with their spiritual director, while others will find seeing him or her once in a while for a few short moments to be sufficient. It is essential that one Christian helps another Christian to enter without fear into the presence of God and there to discern God's call" (8-9). Because the singular aim of spiritual direction is to assist in growth toward God, there are no set guidelines, no conventional measuring sticks, no right or wrong answers, and no concretely attainable goals. While training in prayer and meditation may certainly make one a more articulate spiritual director, neverthe-less spiritual direction remains a vocation unfettered by rules and regulations, by industry standards, or by a financial fee scale. Most spiritual directees practice St. Paul's suggestion in the Letter to the Galatians, "Those who are taught the word must share in all good things with their teacher" (6:6), by making some gift to their directors: homemade bread, flowers from the garden, a book or tape, or some other item; money does not usually enter into a spiritual direction agreement, nor should it. Unlike therapy or counseling, which are professional relationships between a ther-apist or counselor and a client, spiritual direction is a relation-ship of charity and generosity between fellow Christians. Spiritual gifts cannot be purchased; they are not for sale. Three images of the spiritual life may help to indicate ways in which the presence of a director (or mentor or soul friend) may effectively aid us in our growth Godwards. The first image, offered by Thomas H. Green, is :that of a marketplace. The marketplace--or, as Green also labels it, the ldtchen!--is the part of our lives that encompasses a multitude of small, necessary, sometimes tedious tasks which can seem to draw us away from the richness and quiet of our interior lives. "Frequently," Green says, "the demands and frustrations of the apostolate, or of raising a family and earning a living, seem to be merely obstacles to a genuine and deep prayer life. But if I am right in explaining the way the Lord works through these exter-nal activities and events, then we should see them quite differ-ently. Far from being obstacles to our interior growth, they become for us the very sandpaper of our sanctification, at least as important to our growth as what happens in the solitude of for-mal prayer" (121). 532 Review for Religious These are not particularly comfortable thoughts, especially for those of~us who would like to discover a large block of unin-terrupted quiet. Often it is only with the help of a wise spiritual director that we can begin to uncover and acknowledge the wealth of spiritual graces hidden in our routine daily tasks and to see opportunities in what have earlier appeared to be only obstacles. Another, who listens with detached concern, will not only listen to the occasional frustration, tiredness, or boredom in our every-day tasks, but will also hear the voice of God calling to us from what may, on the surface, seem to be 'merely dull routine. As surely as God works in this world, God is also available to us in our work, however .tedious and distracting our marketplace--or kitchen--may feel at times. Another ancient and popular image for the spiritual life is that of a journey or pilgrimage. John Gorsuch describes such a spiri-tual journey as a moving out from a place of assumed comfort, beckoned on by God into the unknown. The image of a journey is particularly apt if considered in its various stages: there is a beginning, with its preparations and planning; the travel itself; and the goal of the journey. In the early stages of beginning a journey, there may be excitement and feverish planning--a guide is helpful here in focusing our attention and helping us to leave behind our unnecessary baggage. I once watched my sister prepar-ing for a backpacking trip: with the advice of an experienced back-packer friend, she was encouraged to take only the essential objects, leaving her backpack light enough to carry and yet stocked with exactly what she would need. But traveling, no matter how well it is planned and prepared, is nevertheless an adventure into the unknown. Often we must stop to ask for directions or other help. In traveling this may be as simple as "Yes, you're on the right road" or "Two more blocks Because the singular aim of spiritual direction is to assist in growth toward God, there are no set guidelines, no conventional measuring sticks, no right or wrong answers, and no concretely attainable goals. July-August 199Y 533 Winifred ¯ Imaging Spiritual Direction and then turn left"; on a spiritual journey, as simple as "Keep lis-tening in your prayer" or "Look in the mirror every morning: you will see a person God loves profoundly." If we are fortunate enough to have a good and reliable guide or director, we are soon back on track. At times, too, the journey's route may seem long and wearisome--turning aside or even giving up altogether may look like the most positive option. Then a wise mentor's word of encouragement may challenge and enliven us to continue with new energy and zeal. And then there is the goal to our journey. Sometimes we are so caught up in the travel itself that we lose sight of the goal. A friend and I once planned to spend a restful week together; iron-ically, we also planned too many sight-seeing activities, with the result that the true goals of the week--to ,rest and enjoy each other's company--were lost. So, on a spiritual journey, it is easy to be distracted by circumstances and surroundings from our true goal of knowing God. We need a wise and discerning director to help us in maintaining a clarity of vision about our goal. A third image is that of epiphany. Adrian van Kaam, from whom I have borrowed this image, describes an epiphany as the "shining forth of eternity in daily people, in often unnoticed events and things" (8). It is an epiphany that comes through in the openness and vulnerability of spiritual direction. Van Kaam goes on to say: "The risen Lord is our life now. Our life must become a hymn of praise to Jesus rising in us . Jesus tells us that the kingdom of God is at hand in each of us. It is already here and now, for we are called to share his resurrection in humanity and history" (65). And surely this is the heart of spiritual direction, that one Christian shares freely with another a word of help, a message of encouragement, a glimpse of eternity. Bibliography Gorsuch, John R An Invitation to the Spiritual Journey. Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1990. Green, Thomas H. Darkness in the Marketplace. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1981. Nouwen, Henri. Spiritual Direction. Cincinnati: Forward Movement Publications, 1981. Van Kaam, Adrian. The Music of Eternity. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1990, 534 Review for Religious MARY C. SULLIVAN The Brazier That Is My God: Teresa on True Prayer's Dispositions, Gifts, and Signs It is 2 June 1577. Teresa of Avila is, in effect, under house arrest in the convent of the Discalced Carmelites in Toledo, Spain--a community she founded in 1569.1 She has been on the road for almost ten years, establishing reformed monasteries of Carmelite women and even of Carmelite men committed to the poverty, silence, soli-tude, penance, prayer, and detachment she believes are envisioned in the primitive Rule. But now for the last year she has been ordered to remain in one of her convents (she chooses Toledo) because of political tensions between the Calced and Discalced Carmelites. She is regarded by the Calced as a ringleader who must be kept out of cir-culation. To add to her isolation, on 18 June 1577 the papal nuncio Nicol~is Ormaneto, who has been friendly to the reform, will die, and his successor, Felipe Sega, will come to Spain in August already prejudiced against Teresa and her work. He will later call her "a. restless gadabout woman, disobedient and stubborn, who under the cloak of devotion invented wicked opinions, going about breaking enclosure, contrary to the decree of the Council of Trent and the orders of her superiors, teaching as if she were a doctor, in contempt of the teaching of St. Paul, who com-manded women not to teach."2 Mary C. Sullivan RSM works in the College of Liberal Arts of Rochester Institute of Technology. She may be addressed at Sisters of Mercy; 18 Upton Park; Rochester, New York 14607. heritage j~uly-August 1995 535 Sullivan ¯ The Brazier That Is My God Prologue But now, in early June 1577, during her enforced reclusion, Teresa is in Toledo, writing a book on prayer at the request of her confessor, Jer6nimo Gracifin, a Discalced priest. By the end of July, after one month of work on Las Moradas (The Interior Castle, or The Dwelling Places3), she will be recalled to Avila, where against her own desire she has again been elected prioress of Incarnation, the Carmelite convent she entered as a young woman and from which in 1562 she will found San Jos4, the first convent of the Reform, across town in Avila. But the Carmelite authorities do not want Teresa to be the prioress of Incarnation. They will call for a second vote, and when fifty-four sisters at Incarnation persist in electing Teresa, these sisters will be ex-communicated and denied the sacraments. On 3 December of this same year, John of the Cross, the confessor and spiritual director at Incarnation, will be abducted from Avila at night by Calced friars and taken to the windowless closet cell in the Toledo monastery of the Calced Carmelites where he will remain impris-oned for six months. Simultaneous with all this, the modern form of the Spanish Inquisition is in full swing in Seville, having been operating as a powerful ecclesiastical tribunal for almost a hundred years. The manuscript of Teresa's Life has been in the Inquisition's possession for two years, after being denounced to it by the dis-appointed and vindictive Princess of Eboli.4 In the midst of all this difficulty, most of which deeply dis-tressed her, in the six-month period from 2 June to 29 November 1577 (which will actually amount to only two months of writing time), Teresa will start and complete her masterwork, The Dwelling Places, the treatise on prayer and virtue which more than any other of her writings led Pope Paul VI in 1970 to declare her a doctor of the universal church. Not once in this volume does Teresa refer explicitly to the external affairs which weigh so heavily on her mind and heart, though her letters of this period amply demon-strate her concern, and dismay. Rather, in this magnificent book about a human person's gradually increasing communion with the God dwelling within her, Teresa speaks about the prayer of per-sonal conversion, the prayer of reordering and reordered charity within the human heart. And so The Dwelling Places is a book which may contribute immeasurably to the present-day conversion of the church, of religious life, and of the hearts of individual Christian women and men. 536 Review for Reli

Issue 31.3 of the Review for Religious, 1972. ; ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. QUESTIONS ANI) A N S\V E R S E 1) ITO R 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 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Build-ing; 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 ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of l)ivinity of St. Louis University, 01e editorial offices beihg located at 612 tlumboldt Building; 539 North (;rand Boulevard: St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Educalional In';titute. Published bimontbly and copyright © 1972 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.25. SuBscription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year. $11.00 for two years; other countries: $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders sbould indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and sbould be 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 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former addre.~s. Renewals and new subscriptions should be sent to REVIEW I:OR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 60 Duluth. Minnesota 55802. Manuscripts, editori-al correspondence, and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS: 612 [lumboldt Building; 539 North (;rand Boule-yard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of tile Questions and Answers editor. MAY 1972 VOLUME 31 NUMBER 3 BENEDICT ASHLEY, O.P. ¯ Retirement or V gil? [ Benedict Ashley, O.P., is Profess6r of Theology at The Institute of Religion and Human " Development; Texas Medical Center; P.O. Box 20569; Houston, Texas 77025.] Retirement and the Work Ethic To provide for the retirement of senior members has bdcome an urgent task for many religious communities. D~clining vocations, risfng medical costs, changes in traditional apostolates and in sources of income demand that we develop new, organized ways to care for those who have reached that last, often lengthy phase of life which we Americans call "retirement." The action of Pope Paul VI in requesting even cardinals and bishops to retire acknowledges that in times of rapid change older persons, for all their expe~'ience and "tested virtue," often lack the energy and flexibility to carry on the apostolate. However reasonable this trend may seem to those long dist~int from the "cut-off point," it is prQducing great anxiety, discontent, . and bitterness in many aging religious. This intensifies the polarization against which many communities now struggle. Recently an elderly but very much alive sister said to me: "What a paradox that our community is how so concerned to give younger sisters free choice¯ of apostolates, while forcing older sisters to retire willy-nilly. I was told to retire last year without any consultation or discussion of my preferences. My only choice, which was no choice at all, was to come to this retirement house. The young are demanding small interpersonal communities. I must live with over a hundred sisters, most of them sick, some completely senile, although my health is good, my mind active, and I like to live with young people, 'where the action is.' " Of course, some communities take great pains to discuss the situation carefully with members who must retire from present apostolates, to give them choices and training for a "second career," or at least maximum opportunities for "semi-activity." They realize that the problem of these religious is, after all, only part of the larger geriatric problem in the United States which will probably increase still further as our national birthrate continues to decline, and the average age of Americans begins to rise. However, I wonder if the very term "retirement" does not reflect the dehumani-zation of our technological society. It is borrowed from the practice of American business and starkly reflects the "work ethic" dominating our culture, against which the counter-culture is rightly protesting. This ethic evaluates human 'worth only in terms of production, organizational efficiency, capacity for marketable innovation. It values "doing and making," but ignores the values of "being," unless they can be translated into commodities. Even without the protests of the .counter-culture, we should know from the gospel that "man does not live by bread alone" (Mt 4:4) and that we have been told "do not be anxious for what you are to eat or wear, because unbelievers are always. running after these things" (Mt 6:31-32). The values of the work ethic are real and ¯ 326 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 are not repudiated by the gospel, but they are .~ternly subordinated to a very different appreciation of what really counts in life. Let us retire the term "retirement," and even "semi-activity." The notion of "a second career" is better, yet it too has a work ethic flavor. Moreover to talk about "second careers" to religious for whom it seems nothing remains of life but suffering, prayer, and gradual decline is to coin another of those horrible euphemisms with which we today in our society of affluence indecently hide the unacknowledged' miseries of neglected poverty and death. We are Christians who ought to have the courage to face the facts of old age with a realism warmed by Christian hope. Trying to wrestle with this fact of life theologically, I have found in the gospel a theme which seems to me very relevant, the notion of vigil. Christian Vigil The current liturgical reform began with the renewal of the Paschal Vigil, called by St. Augustine "the mother of all vigils," because it sums up the expectation of all ages of Christ's victory over death. Its meaning is beautifully stated in the General Instruction bn the Liturgy of the Hours issued by the Holy See in 1971 (nos. 70-2): [St.Augustine writes] "by keeping vigil, we observe that night when the Lord,arose, and by his own flesh began in us that life which knows neither sleep nor death. ; then as we sing together to the risen Lord a little while longer by keeping vigil, he will grant us to reign with him by living forever." Asin the Easter Vigil, the custom soon arose in different churches t6 begin various solemn feasts by keeping vigil, notably in the Birth of the Lord and Pentecost. The Fathers and spiritual writers frequently urged the faithful, especially those who live a contemplative life, to nocturnal prayer, which expresses and fosters our waiting for the Lord?s return: "At midnight someone shouted, 'The groom is here! Come out and greet him!' " (Matthew 25:6); "Keep watch! You do not know when the master of the house is coming; whether at dusk, at midnight, when the cock crows, or at early dawn. Do not let him come suddenly and catch you asleep" (Mark 13:35-36). To implement this idea the Church in its new calendar has not only given the Paschal Vigil the central place in the liturgical year and retained the ~vigils of the Birth of the Lord and of Pentecost, but recommends the use of "Bible vigils" (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, no. 35), and in the instruction just quoted encourages the use and development of the Office of Readings as a time of vigil, thus preserving the nocturns or night Office of the traditional Breviary. This last recommendation is not only for priests and nuns, but for the laity as well (Instruction, nos. 20-2). These liturgical reforms are rooted deeply in the New Testament. Jesus Himself prepared for the great moments of His life by keeping vigil. For forty days and nights (Mt 4:2) He prayed in the desert before beginning His ministry. Before extending it beyond Capernaum, He went to a "Ion.ely place" (Mk 1: 35) to pray till dawn. Before announcing His inevitable passion, He kept vigil with Peter, James, and John on the mount of transfiguration (Mk 9:1-8). On the eve of the passion He agonized in Gethsemane (Mk 14:32). In their turn the disciples and Mary kept vigil before Pentecost (Acts 1 : 14; 2:2). The newborn Christian community prayed for its leader Peter when he was in prison (Acts 12:5, 12), and before ordaining presbyters (4:23). Paul continued this custom on his missions (16:25). The significance of such vigils was indicated by Jesus Himself in many of His discourses and parables in which He urged his followers to "Watch, for you know Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 327 not the day nor the hour!" (Mt 25:13). If we look at the well-known work of Joachim Jeremias, The Parables of Jesus (rev. ed.; New York: Scribner's, 1963) we notice that he classifies the parables in ten groups: "1. Now is the Day of Salvation; 2. God's Mercy for Sinners; 3. The Great Assurance; 4. The Imminence of Catastrophe; 5. It May Be Too Late; 6. The Challenge of the Hour; 7. Realized Discipleship; 8. The Via Dolorosa and Exaltation of the Son of Man; 9. The Consummation; 10. Parabolic Actions." These very titles indicate how close all these themes are to the vigil concept, although groups 4, 5, and 6 are particularly pertinent. The parables constantly say: "Wake hp! Watch !" When we look at the Epistles we find that Peter and Paul and the others have the same pastoral advice. For example: Stay sober and alert. Your opponent the devil is prowling like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, solid in yo6r faith, realiz!ng that the brotherhood of believers is undergoing the same sufferings throughout the world. The God of all grace, who called you to his everlasting glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish those who have suffered a little while. Dominion be his throughout the ages. Amen (I Pt 5:8-10). Asregards specific times and moments, brothers, we do not need to write you; you know very well that the day of the Lord is coming like a thief in the night. Just when people are saying, "Peace and security," ruin will fall. You are not in the dark, brothers, that the day should catch you off guard, like a thief. No, all of you are children of light and of the day. We belong neither to darkness nor to night; therefore, let us not be asleep like the rest, but awake and sober! Sleepers sleep by night, and drunkards drink by night. We who live by day must be alert (1 Thes 5:1-8). The Theology of the Vigil To discover the the.ological meaning of these New Testament actions and teachings, we must begin with the obvious fact that a vigil is eschatological prayer. It is directed toward the future, toward Christ's victory over sin and death through Resurrection and Ascension, toward the coming of God's kingdom on earth through the mission of His Church, toward the universal transformation of the cosmos at Christ's Second Coming when all things will be summed up in Him in the glory of the Father (Phil 2:9-11 ; Col 1:15-20: Eph 1:18-23). A vigil is expectation in faith, hope, and yearning love directed to the future and eternal life. Its heart is joy, not the joy. of fulfillment, but the bitter-sweet joy of anticipation, a hunger and thirsting for the justice of God's reign. This is why a vigil humanly is a struggle to keep awake, to arouse ourselves from the oppression of drowsiness. The Apostles could not keep awake with Jesus in the Garden, because although "the spirit is willing, the .flesh is weak" (Mt 26:41). Luke says they slept because they were "exhausted with grief" (22:45). The weariness, discouragement, apathy, the numbing dread of waiting! Who has not waited in fear in a doctor's office? Waiting can be still more dreadful when we wait for some great joy, in growing doubt that it will ever come. During such painful times we all seek to escape the tension, to drug ourselves with some empty distraction or even sleep and forgetfulness. It is against this spiritual sleep that Jesus warns us. We must live in active hope, in wide-awake awareness, because in truth Jesus has already come. God is already present in our world if our eyes of faith are wide-open to sense His presence. The symbolism of "watching in the night" is simple and profound. This "night" is the world in the Johannine sense: "He was in the world, and through him the world was made, yet the world did not know who he was" (Jn 1 : 10). The world is humanity not in its earthliness or secularity, but in its hard-heartedness, self-centeredness, self-righteous pride and aggression which blind it to the present LOrd: 328 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 "Men loved darkness rather than the light, because their deeds were wicked" (Jn 3:19). It is in this night where God is present but man is absent from Him, in this shadow of death, that the Christian lives by faith and hope. Another element of the symbolism of the vigil is the silence, when the rush of activities, the vanity of human plans and boasted accomplishments, the flood of sights and sounds advertising expensive but delusive pleasures, conceal from us the reality of the void, the desert of human despair. Existentialism has revived for us this aspect of vigil, the search for authenticity. The Christian enters the desert of silence not to escape, but driven by the Holy Spirit to confront the Evil Spirit as Jesus was (Mk 1:12-3). Night has its peace and cessation from exterior work, but it is also the time of spiritual combat with angels, both evil and good. Tobiah struggled with an evil spirit and came out whole (Tobit 8); and Jacob with a good one, but was crippled (Gen 32:23-33). Night is man's encounter with the hidden levels of his personality and with the subtle cosmic influences that profoundly affect his life, yet which are covered over by his day-time activities. Watching, therefore, is not a mere passive waiting, but an active preparation, struggle, reflection, purgation, integration, simplification of life, requiring the use of the deepest human energies, it is an activity not at the periphery of human life where most of our "doing and making" take place, but in the central abyss of our being. Again, because it is eschatological, a vigil is also a time of judgment. Many of the Psalms speak of this nocturnal examination of conscience: 1 am wearied by sighing: every night I flood my bed with weeping. I drench my couch with my tears; My eyes are dimmed with sorrow. They have aged because of all my foes (Ps 6:7-8). I bless the Lord who counsels me; even in the night my heart exhorts me (16:7). i will remember you upon my couch, and through the night-watches I will meditate on you (63:7). By night my hands are stretched out with flagging; my soul refuses comfort. When l remember God, I moan; when i ponder, my spirit grows faint. You keep my eyes watchful: I am troubled and i cannot speak. I consider the days of old; the years long past I remember. In the night I meditate in my heart; [ ponder, and my spirit broods. "Will the Lord reject forever and nevermore be favorable?" (77:4-8). In a vigil we face ourselves in truth, we accept the punishment of remorse, we are freed from the burden of illusions. Even when our conscience does not reproach us, we come to understand that we are children of Adam, part of the inhuman race of men. Yet as Christians we do not come to judgment so much in fear as in petitiqn to be healed. Purgatory begins for us, a merciful cleansing through hope and longing, because a vigil is penitential, expiatory, redemptive. This is not because God exacts a payment for sin (it is only the unjust steward who thought God a hard master), but because He requires us to share in the work of repairing the damage we have done to others and to ourselves. "God's glory is man fully alive," as St. Irenaeus said, and the restoration of God's glory by penance is nothing other than the healing of man and of the broken relations between men by forgiveness. How does a vigil repair the human world? It does so first by healing the watcher himself, since in this purgatory he learns to forgive others and to lay down .the burden of his own follies. But a vigil is also communal. It is a time when together, at least in spirit, we pray for one another and share one another's burden of guilt and sorrow. Today, some people think prayer is only an excuse not to help others Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 329 through action, but even after we act we may find that our neighbor is still alienated from us by hidden barriers that nothing but prayer can ever pierce. Furthermore, a vigil is communal because it is a witness. Who has not been strengthened to know that another watches in prayer for him with a love that is ever awake? A vigil also always implies the coming dawn, the Resurrection, the rising Sun of Justice. At the heart of the vigil is the well fueled lamp of love, as Jesus indicated in the Parable of the Ten Virgins. He also asked: "When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?" (Lk 18:8). Matthew speaks of "charity" (24-12). The greatest human prdblem is to persevere in faithful love, a love that increases until the kingdom of God kindles like a consuming fire (Lk 12:49). This silently burning light in the night vigil is a fire stronger than the waters of death: "For stern as death is love, relentless as the grave in its devotion; its flames are a blazing fire" (Song of Songs8:6). The Paschal fire is the liturgical symbol of this "living flame of love," which John of the Cross and all the mystics tell us begins to burn in the dark night of the spirit. The Psychology of Later Life Recent developments in developmental ego-psychology, exemplified in the work of Erik Erikson, show us that the phases of human life all have or can have a positive meaning, including old age. It will suffice here to quote a passage from Erikson's Identity: Youth and Crisis (New York: Norton, 1968, pp. 139-40): In the aging person who has taken care of things and people and has adapted himself to the triumphs and disappointments of being, by necessity, the originator of others and the generator of things and ideas - only in him the fruit of the seven stages gradually ripens. I know no better word for it than integrity. Lacking a clear definition, I shall point to a few attributes of this stage of mind. It is the ego's accrued assurance of its proclivity for order and meaning - an emotional integration faithful to the image-bearers of the past and ready to take, and eventually to renounce, leadership in the present. It is the acceptance of one's one and only life cycle and of the people who have become significant to it as something that had to be and that, by necessity; permitted of no substitutions. It thus means a new and different love of one's parents, free of the wish that they should have been different, and an acceptance of the fact that one's life is one's own responsibility. It is a sense of comradeship with men and women of distant times and of different pursuits who have created orders and objects and sayings conveying human dignity and love. A meaningfulold age, then, preceding a possible terminal senility, serves the need for that integrated heritage which gives indispensable perspective to the life cycle. Strength here takes the form of that detached yet active concern with life bounded by death, which we call ~wisdom in its many connotations from ripened "wits" to accumulated knowledge, mature judgment, and inclusive understanding. Not that each man can evolve wisdom for himself. For most, a living tradition provides the essence of it. But the end of the cycle also evokes "ultimate concerns" for what chance man may have to transcend the limitations of his identity and his often tragic or bitterly tragicomic engagement in his one and only life cycle within the sequence of generations. Yet great philosophical and religious systems dealing with ultimate individuation seem to have remained responsibly related to the cultures and civilizations of their times. Seeking trans-cendence by renunciation, they yet remain ethically concerned with the "maintenance of the ¯ world." By the same token, a civilization can be measured by the meaning which it gives to the full cycle of life, for such meaning, or the lack of it, cannot fail to reach into the beginning of the next generation, and thus into the chances of others to meet ultimate questions with some clarity and strength. Erikson points out that this achievement of integrity implies that the person has the courage to retain his own individuality and life style even in the face of changing times: Forheknowsthat an individual life is the coincidence of but one life cycle with but one 330 Review for Religious, Volume 3 I, 1972/3 segment of history, and that for him all human integrity stands and fails with the one style of integrity of which he partakes (p. 140). He also points out that when old age is not used positively, it will end negatively in disgust and despair: Such a despair, is often hidden behind a show of disgust, a misanthropy, or chronic contemptuous displeasure with particular institutions and particular people - a disgust and a displeasure which, where not allied with the vision of a superior life, only signify the individual's contempt of himself (ibid.) From a Christian point of view, therefore, the period of vigil for the Lord's Coming is a precious gift. It is not merely for the aged, but is a feature of every Christian life. All of us, young and old, must have some vigil in our life, some time of reflection, purification, integration. It should begin early, so that old age will only be its culmination and intensification. It is not something separated from active life but is rather a harvest time in which the fruit of experience ~is reaped, assimilated, and made part of our total personality. The Paschal mystery means for us that although this world and its life must pass, yet nothing experienced here in faith will ever be lost, no genuine tie in love will ever be severed. In Christ our life will be summed up, "recapitulated," and transformed in the eternal life of the Trinity. Death is not a closing in of the horizon, but an opening on an ever wider vista - a narrow door that opens on an expanding landscape. The end of the film 2001: A Space Odyssey is one way of saying it. Therefore, the vigil time of life is not just "waiting to die," but is a process of integration in which we "get it all together," discovering in all that we have done and suffered an inner core of meaning. Moreover, we have the obligation of letting others who are in the midst or the beginning of life know there is meaning to what seems to them a mad scramble, a rat-race. The generation gap can never be closed in time, because the wisdom of experience cannot be expressed in the language of inexperience. Yet something can be communicated and must be communicated to the young, and that is hope. Only those seniors who have achieved peace, and who prove it by letting the young live their own lives, are able to give a truly credible sign of hope. The Apostolate of Vigil In view of this psychological and theological meaning of vigil and of later life as a time of vigil, it seems to me that we can frame a better practical understanding of the so-called "retirement problem." (1) In order to obliterate the "retirement" idea, I think we should institute both in name and fact a new apostolate in our communities, the Apostolate of Vigil. It is a genuine apostolate in the wider sense in which traditionally the contemplative life was considered the supreme apostolate, because contemplatives perform a special service of intercessary prayer, reparation, and witness to the transcendent, eschato-logical goals of the Christian life. Lately, active communities are recognizing this need by establishing "houses of prayer." It seems to me that the notion of "vigil" adds to the concept of "prayer" that "thrust into the future" which is so necessary to our time that suffers from "future shock" and "existential despair:" The work of this apostolate consists in several related elements: (a) Reflection. Erikson's emphasis on old age as a time of integration indicates that those in the apostolate of vigil must give themselves seriously to reflection. In a recent movie Kotch, Walter Matthau brilliantly portrays a retired business man who annoys everyone by his constant, apparently disconnected garrulity. Yet as we Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 331 listen to him, we see that he is still a mentally very active man, more alert ~han his rather stupid son and daughter-in-law. He is reflecting over his reading, his life, his successes and failures, and is distilling real wisdom from them. He looks at life with a tolerant yet discerning eye. He contemplates its beauty with delight and tries to express it in language that has its real poetry. But no one listens. On tlie other hand, another movie, 1 Never Sang for My Father, shows the tragedy of another elderly "successful" business man who cannot find the clue to the real meaning of his life, but endlessly moves in the circle o~ the old, bitter thoughts of his rejected youth. Some of our attempts at community dialogue have left the old silent, because we are always talking about the future. Perhaps we should try to have some times of discussion devoted to the needs of the senior members to talk about their past. (b) Prayer. This should not only be intercessory and reparative, as I have already indicated, but also a prayer of praise and thanksgiving. If we need time to "make a thanksgiving" after Holy Communion, don't we also need time to give thanks for the banquet of life? Undoubtedly older religious will want to continue the forms of prayer which have formed the basis of their lives, and, as Erikson says in the quotation above, this is a part of their personal integrity. At the same time, they may welcome the opportunity to deepen these accustomed forms of prayer if they are given opportunities for better theological.and liturgical instruction on the values which they contain. A prayer group made up of older priests, with which I am acquainted, is finding the new "Liturgy of the Hours" a delight. It retains the basic elements of the older "Divine Office" but in a form which makes recitation more meditative and leisurely. (c) Counsel. This is a difficult point which requires a good deal of study and experimentation. In traditional societies the elders were the counselors, yet today it is argued by Margaret Mead and others that the young really have more experience than their seniors. Furthermore, it is said that elderly counselors incline to an authoritarian moralism that is contrary to the non-directive methods of modern counseling. On the other hand it is certainly true that some older people have real assets as counselors. They have time to listen, a broad sympathy based on their own self-knowledge and the experience of human struggle, and a calm, hopeful attitude, sceptical of facile solutions, yet free of pani~ about the crises of life. There is no reason that such persons cannot still learn to improve their technique as.counselors if given some additional training and supervision, Their tendency to moralize or over-direct is more a result of their desire to help, than an incapacity to learn a more psychological approach. I suggest that while not all older people will make good counse.lors, many will if.given some additional training. (d) Suffering. The physical and mental decline of later life tends to become the focus of many wasted days and years, unless this suffering is understood as an element of Christian experience not merely to be endured but to be used creatively. The Cross is a means of integration and fulfillment, as it was for Jesus who said: "It is completed" (Jn 19:.30). To make this suffering a spiritual resource, however, requires spiritual guidance and support. In Gethsemane Jesus was strengthened by an angel (Lk 22:43). The flagging energies of the sick and aged make it difficult for them to exert themselves to prayer. They can relapse into a routine of gradual decline and apathy. Consequently, it is important to help them use the energies they have to grow personally. (e) Small Services. Today religious orders rightly seek to free themselves from wasting their energies on "trivialities." Nevertheless, we need to realize that nothing 332 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 humanizes our lives so much as the small personal services that make us feel loved and that free us from details for more creative work. In any religious community its life and its apostolate can be immensely aided by persons who have the time, the tact, the humility to render some of these small services either within the community circle or as a feature of particular external apostolates. For example, how much a really good receptionist contributes to the work of any organization! Jesus spoke of the "cup of cold water only" given in His name (Mt 10:42) and of the "widow'smite"(Mk 12:41-4) to indicate the dignity and beauty of such small services given in love. They exemplify the first beatitude of poverty of spirit. (f) Hope. The culminating task of the Apostolate of Vigil is the witness of genuine hope, free of "future shock," of gloom, of cynicism, or panic. We need only to think of the example given the Church and the world by the aged John XXlII to realize what a rainbow sign (Gen 9:11-7) this witness of hope can be, giving life and renewal to the whole community. (2) A second step we need to take is to make clear that this Apostolate of Vigil is not exclusively for the old, but an option for all religious at any age, as a permanent or temporary apostolate. There are young and middle-aged religious who will find that their charism is more contemplative than active, or that at least for certain periods of their life they need to '~be" rather than to "do or make." We should ¯ make clear also that age does not automatically qualify a person for this apostolate, or make it his or her single choice. Some senior religious will still find themselves more inclined to a "second career" or to "semi-activity" and should be given this option if it is at all a realistic choice. Finally, we should avoid identifying this apostolate with the problem of residence. It is true that the "villa" may be one center of such an apostolate, but some religious will prefer to carry it on in houses of prayer or active communities. (3) Since this apostolate requires special qualifications other than mere age, it also requires proper training, facilities, and evaluation, exactly as any other apostolate. When a religious is considering choosing it, he or she should discuss the matter with a qualified counselor. The community itself should have definite plans for developing, evaluating~ and revising this apostolate in the formation of which theological, liturgical, psychological, and medical expertise should be used. (4) Finally, proper recognition should be given to those who sincerely engage in this apostolate, so that they know and feel that they truly contribute to the community's life and work. One form of recognition is, of course, a clear financial arrangement by which it is apparent to all that persons in this apostolate are not a "burden" to the community but an asset. This is no mere legal fiction because: (a) This apostolate is a fundamental service to the Church and the world which every religious community has the obligation to provide in some form or other. (b) In actual fact a great part of the free gifts made to any religious community come because the laity look to the assistance of that community's prayer and penance. (c) Religious by their contributed services in their years of "active apostolate" have certainly invested enough in the community to deserve in justice the opportunity to engage in the Apostolate of Vigil if they choose. Some communities solve this problem by paying each local community of which the religious is a member a regular monthly salary as her contribution to its financial upkeep. An Obvious Objection An honest doubt about the idea I have outlined naturally arises. How can we speak of an apostolate for a really senile person who has lost memory, emotional Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 333 control, clarity of mind and purpose? What of those who really are "just waiting to die," living only on a vegetative, custodial level? I can only suggest two points for reflection: (1) Today certain psychologists and some young thinkers of the counter culture are raising sharp questions about the way our work ethic culture tends to define "mental incapacity" or "mental illness." They point out that in many cultures persons we label as "crazy" or "mentally defective" are considered "wise," "prophetic," or "sacred." Jesus spoke of the wisdom of the child, and St. Paul of the wisdom of those whom the world calls fools. St. Luke pictures those two ancient prophets, Simeon and Anna, who alone recognized the Messiah. I certainly would not subscribe to overromantic ideas about the wisdom of the senile, but I do not think that we should identify the value of human personality with the well-being of the brain. The senile person can still be capable of faith, hope, and charity. The process of spiritual purgation and integration which goes on in later life no doubt can reach its completion even when life has reached its ebb tide. (2) In any case our real problem is not the extremely senile patient for whom nothing remains but custodial care. We will give that care gladly and it raises no great puzzles. The real geriatric problems are the much larger number of religious who are still very much alive, perhaps with many years ahead of them. We must help them live these years as a vigil of hope, of effective prayer for the Lord's Coming and for the establishment of His kingdom on our earth. DAVID A. FLEMING, S.M. Formation and the Discovery of Identity [David A. Fleming, S.M., is a faculty member of Marianist Seholastieate; 2700 Cincinnati Avenue; San Antonio, Texas 78284.1 People in formation today tend to feel uncomfortably like bridges. At one end they cling to the solid but sometimes arid rock of a tradition, while at the other they try to find some footing in the shifting sands of new styles of life and experience. Meanwhile they often feel that people are walking all over them from both directions and fighting their battles on top of them, while they themselves look down at the gaping abyss beneath. Luckily, though, many of us like being bridges, despite the discomforts involved, and we feel that the attempt to reach across the gap is more than worth the effort. Our problem, our sense of battles and abysses, is, 1 think, related to a major cultural shift in the understanding and expression of religious values. This shift became an experiential reality for me not too long ago one evening when I attended two parties in religious communities, one - frequented by older members - celebrating the jubilee 9f a much respected member of my province, and the other a community party in a house of formation celebrating the end of a semester. It struck me very forcibly that what I was doing was observing the ways in which two distinct cultures celebrate. To attempt to summarize cultural differences is a risky undertaking. No one is ever satisfied by someone from the outside attempting to sum up basic commit-ments and ways of seeing. And, of course, none of us is ever or should ever be completely "outside"; our summaries are inevitably colored by our own commit-ments and viewpoints. But if we are to talk meaningfully of the situation in which the person involved in formation finds himself today, it is necessary at least to draw up a schematized and admittedly unnuanced outline of the very real contrasts that govern our situation. By culture I mean simply the sum-total of the social values, ways of thinking, means of expressing human relationships, and habits of life shared by a whole group of people (whether tribes in Africa, villages in France, or social groupings in America). At the two parties I recognized two contrasting ways of celebrating, two approaches to festivity. The older party was characterized by a happy convention-ality. People told the old jokes and sang the old songs, reminisced about the way things used to be, shared common memories about the persons and mores of a true but somewhat idealized past. The younger one was colored by creative expression (new skits, new games and ideas) and fantasy (making up new stories and new songs). At both parties, there was much sharing of laughter at things normally taken very seriously. The cultural differences are not restricted, of course, to behavior at parties. The two groups' means of expressing values are notably different. Both are preoccupied with fidelity, but the older group stresses fidelity to an established role, believing Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 335 that a man's true fulfillment and the greatest service he can give lie in being as faithfully and totally and interiorly as possible what he is called to be by the work assigned to him: a good teacher, pastor, cook, or whatever. For the younger group fidelity means, above all, a continuous search to discover and live out what is one's own unique contribution. True fulfillment for this younger group means the discovery of self, which will then lead to a service to society which may or may not correspond to any pre-established role. The older group stresses perseverance in holding to the role that is given, while the younger group stresses honesty with oneself, even though that honesty may not lead very quickly to stability. The older group sees forgetfulness of self and modesty as prime virtues for relating with others, while the younger group stresses openness, the willingness to let oneself be influenced by the thought and action of the other. The older group stresses the necessity for each individual to stick to what he thinks is right, no matter what social pressures he may be subjected to. The younger one feels that communion with the group is a prime value; although he too knows how to withstand social pressures, they prompt him more quickly to re-examine his position, rather than stiffen his resistance to corruption. The older group speaks much about preserving and enriching a tradition that comes out of the past, while the younger one is more oriented towards building a future that may or may not spring very obviously from the past. The experienced seek a carefully limited, realistic, but wholehearted commitment to the goals they have accepted. This approach seems narrow to the young; fascinated by a multiplicity of goods, they tend rather to become overcommitted to too many things, while at the same time being only partially committed to any one of them. The patterns of thought of the two groups are also quite diverse. For the older, truth is to be achieved above all by method, by a disciplined and patterned application of long-tested paradigms; for the young it is to be sought in dialectic, in conversation and interchange, more by group experience than by individual reflection. The older person wants someone to give him answers to his questions; the younger one simply looks for a person to share the process of discovery. The older man has been educated more in a rhetorical tradition that takes a position asa given and then finds all the supporting reasons and arguments; the younger man's education has increasingly stressed a heuristics that is concerned above all with the search for the position that is (existentially) true. For the older man, knowledge tends more to be a possession (the kind of knowledge denoted by the French verb (savoir), something that is dominated, assimilated, and put to profitable use. For the younger man it tends to be a mode of being-related (conna~tre), a personal or quasi-personal communion. The older man looks in his thinking for stability and attempts to stick to the essence of things; the younger man is taken up with the process and is unimpressed by thinking that relies on stable effsences. Discursive thinking and logic tend to be the natural realm of'the older man; symbol thinking, poetry, and art, that of the younger. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, the ways of relating to people and forming friendships differ between the two groups. The way to an older man's heart is to work together with him at a common project perceived as meaningful. The way to a younger man's heart is to listen to him creatively, to share one's own experiences - a process of much dialogue and many hours of deep conversation. Obviously this outline of the two approaches is quite schematized, and most of us - old or young - are somewhere in-between. The purpose of this rather cavalier summary and contrast has been to point up that the two approaches exist (although 336 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 hardly ever in a "pure" state), that they are, in fact, very different - a difference such as has not often been experienced between any two successive generations in human history - and to intimate, by expressing the values of each in a positive way, that both approaches are very open to living the message of the gospel. It is evident that we have two contrasting ways of being faithful, and we who work in the formation of young religious find ourselves very much in a mediatorial, reconciliational role between them. Our role in this cultural situation is, I believe, best conceptualized today as being of service to individuals and communities in the discovery of an identity. Our most obvious task is to aid the indivMual in developing a social identity with the concrete group which he or she is in the process of joining. Because of the cultural crossroads where we find ourselves at this point in history, however, it is unrealistic to reduce the whole of our role to "socialization" within a given congregation. Neither the individual nor the life of the group can remain static, and a true commitment to the group can happen only as the individual finds within the group a true aid to releasing his own creative potential and an increasingly rich field for expressing that potential. A person can develop an identity with a group only on the basis of a strong personal identity, and. strong personal identity can be developed, paradoxic-ally, only in an interplay with a social group. The person working in formation must therefore deal with both poles of identity - the group and the personal. Hence a second, by no means subordinate, part of our role is to be of service to the young person who comes to us in the absorbing work of his own personal search for identity. Formation people, though they tend. to be "generalists" rather than specialists, should, if anything, be specialists in "human development." Although we should only begin working with young people who have already developed a fairly advanced degree of security, self-identity, and clear-headedness, their entry into religious life, at whatever age, is always part of a search for personal identity and identity within society, and we must be prepared to be of service in that extremely personal search. Given the state of constant evolution in which we more and more consciously find ourselves, the first aspect mentioned above, that of identification with or true membership in the order or congregation can no longer be conceived at any level as identification with a status quo. Commitment to religious life today means rather a commitment to God working in a concrete group of people who are pledged to grow and evolve together, to share the consequences of their lives and decisions. Membership means the willingness to keep growing together, to keep sharing consequences, and to let others within the group continue to influence our lives. Joining religious life is less a flight into a specific desert (for deserts can become rather comfortable, as full of fleshpots as any Egyptian oasis) than a going on pilgrimage together, a common movement toward the God who speaks in our lives and calls us forward through history. Religious life, if it is to give its most telling witness to mankind today, must become (as Schillebeeckx has put it) a '~sacrament of dialogue," a living sign, open and visible to men, of the fact that people can live together and share the search for God's concrete will for them in the present, and that this common search can become a fascinating, absorbing, and fulfilling life project. If we view religious life in this dynamic, search-centered way, it becomes increasingly evident that formation must involve a great deal of contact between the candidates and the experienced members. A decision to throw in one's lot with a given order or congregation can be made only on the basis of knowing and Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 337 experiencing the sacrament of dialogue as it really is. Isolated formation houses no longer fill the need, at least not for the totality of the period of basic formation. They were viable in a day when the problem of formation was simply that of taking on an accepted and rather standardized culture. They are good at providing the deeply spiritual motivation that is alone adequate to sustain a person in the challenges which the communal search for God demands. But they do not give an experience of the communal search to which the community as a whole is pledging itself. They rather give another experience - that of a group of peers struggling with commitment together - an experience which will happen anyway, with or without an isolated house of formation, and one that can too easily create a kind of sub-culture, spiritually and emotionally alienated from the group as a whole. They accentuate cultural differences, rather than helping all - young and old -go beyond them to a deeper unity. Identification with the group is complicated today by the problem that many of us are in fact probably better at being of service to personal growth than at helping develop social roles. We tend to have some competence in psychology, none at all in sociology. Yet as each individual grows personally, he becomes more conscious of his unique contributions and personal richness, and he usually discovers the fact that there are no ready-made social roles into which he can easily fit. Because of the rapid change in our society, many of the traditional service roles which religious have filled (teaching, nursing, pastoral work) are themselves in search of an identity, and many religious want to alter these service roles in significant ways. In this crucial area of both personal and community growth, it is above all important that as much of the whole community as possible be involved in developing and living with social roles. Our own personal identity, that of our younger members, and that of the order or congregation as a whole are inextricably entangled. They can either enrich or discourage one another. Rather than a pledge to adopt unquestioningly a given service'role, a commitment today means a pledge to share in mutual growth as we reexamine our traditional service roles. In turning to the question of our service in the area of each one's personal quest for identity, we will find it helpful first to consider the psychological characteristics of the typical young person with whom we have to deal today, his problems and prospects. The most striking strength of the typical candidate we meet today is his sensitivity. Impressionable, responsive to friendship, and anxious to give a service that is personally perceived, he is capable of developing a pers6nality that will be richly responsive to people. The weakness of our candidate is the typical weakness of a sensitive person. He is quite unsure of himself, uncertain of the best way to respond to the heavy pressures of the experience in which he becomes so deeply involved. He does not take all kinds of values, ways of acting and thinking, for granted. He has grown up in a scattered, fragmented world, and he has not yet had the time and the experience to build up a very firm personal stance - a coherent and well-articulated system of values, beliefs, and ways of acting. Because of his own insecurity and his sensitivity to influences, he tends to waver from position to position with what (for us) seems like astonishing rapidity. Growing up in a period when informational input has been reaching and surpassing overload capacity, our candidate has become aware of far more than we knew at his age, but he has simply not had the stabilizing and strengthening influence that we now enjoy nor even the stabilizing influence that we had at the same stage of our own growth. Hence he is very cautious about taking stands. He wants to continue to be "open" to experience, and he does not want to close too many doors too fast. He has come to 338 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 religious life because he is struggling for an identity that is out of the normal; he will not be satisfied with the ready-made roles which society presents so per-suasively to him. Hence he is, in his own peculiar way, cautious about making commitments, and he wavers through many possibilities before finally determining upon one. Our candidate's experience of the past twenty years has taught him that institutions and ideologies fall with great regularity, and that those who build their lives upon them do not survive. What he can perhaps trust is people. He is person-oriented, deeply conscious of his need for friends. He may find trust difficult; but once he has achieved it, he easily becomes dependent, and he is unashamed of finding strength in the support of his friends. He .is less concerned with building an institution, or an ideology than a friendship. He frequently seems to us to have an "affective" problem. His needs are enormous (or so it seems for those of us who have not lived through his cultural experience) in the area of personal friendship and support. He tends to think that the satisfaction of these needs will solve all his problems in life. He can easily be moved, even manipulated (and here we must be careful to respect his person), by motives of personal friendship, less easily by other motivations. In helping our candidate in his search for identity, we are often tempted to solve his problem for him, to shower on him the rich fruits of our own experience and expect him to respond with profound gratitude. Actually though, the nature of his problems (perhaps the nature of all human problems) is such that only he can solve them. Only he can discover and create an identity for himself. Our genuine help can be in sharing the process of discovery with him; in asking sensitive, helpful, but challenging questions; in sharing, but in a non-coercive way, something of our own search and some of its outcomes. In her fascinating little book Culture and Commitment, Margaret Mead has pointed out that the days of the "postfigurative culture" (the one in which the adults are supposed to have answered all questions and to provide a reproducible pattern for the young to imitate with exactitude) are gone. She believes that we are in a "cofigurative culture," one in which everyone, both young and old, determine the solutions to their problems and the answers to their questions by learning from their peers, with the danger of never being able to open up to an experience that is foreign to them. Our future lies, she believes, in a "prefigurative culture," one in which different age-groups and people with quite different experience can work together in the process of discovering new answers. Youth can contribute the special wisdom of its sensitivity, lack of complacency, and pertinent questioning; experience can enrich the dialogue by sharing, in a genuine search, some of the answers and guideposts it has met on its pilgrimage. Even though many of us still like to think we are quite young, we are on the side of "experience" when it comes to formation. The best that we can do for our candidate is engage in an intelligent, open, ongoing dialogue with him. One of the major problem arias that this dialogue will have to confront is that of authority, freedom, and independence. Because of our typical candidate's lack of security and wavering personal identity, he can become very dependent. He can mistakenly think that he has solved his identity problem by patterning his life after a respected elder. Thus he may be, in the judgment of many, a "model religious" for a time, until he discovers that what he was trying to be was not really himself. When the dependence has been considerable, especially when it has begun at an early stage of maturity and resulted in a rather far-reaching superego acceptance of Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 339 norms that are not internalized (an inauthentic identity plastered on from the outside), the young person, if he is healthy, will sooner or later rebel against the artificiality. More or less intensely and for a longer or shorter time, he will rej6ct much of his past experience, what he might call the "system" of religious life, the structures which characterize it, and possibly even some of the people, especially those with whom he has most closely identified. This rejection will be all the stronger if it is the first significa.nt one, if it has not already taken place in regard to home and parents, for it seems to be an almost inevitable part of growing up in the tensions of present-day society. In this area we need, therefore, to be especially careful. Most of us tend, like the generality of human beings, to be over-protective. We enjoy having someone a bit dependent on us. It is, in fact, a beautiful experience of spiritual fatherhood or motherhood, but it is not something which we, as celibate persons, can cling to. At this point a caution against "overcounseling" deserves special attention. Even though the ongoing dialogue is, I am convinced, of the essence of our task, it is sometimes possible to use counseling as a means of manipulating the young person's emotions, of forcing a growth for which he is not yet ready, of protecting him from learning by experience, and of re-enforcing the tendency toward dependence rather than helping him achieve freedom and self-actualization. Recognizing and accepting the psychodynamics of rejection enables us to maintain enough distance to be helpful rather than compound the problem. But this recognition should not lead us to discount the criticisms of the young person. The period of rejection may be a very special occasion for surfacing some real and deep-going problems, and it may point out some genuine weaknesses of our structures, our demands, and our means of formation. Creative listening and discernment of spirits at this critical juncture may be painful, but it may also help us see the )/bung person far more clearly and truly than ever before, and it may in turn reveal to us some of the deepest-penetrating dynamics of our own interaction. In working through this critical state, many young people come to the conviction that religious life is not what they want, that it does not correspond to the authentic identity which they. finally see themselves developing. They may often seem wrong, and we may sometimes realize better than they that their decision is simply part of the rejection process. At best we can keep it from becoming a particularly bitter or scarring part. Nevertheless, some of the most painful decisions we have to face come at this critical period. It is the strains and stresses of this period that especially urge the wisdom of taking candidates at an older, more mature period, since the strength of the rejection is more or less directly in proportion to the levels of inauthenticity and false docility that have to be uncovered and the depth with which the false super-ego identity has penetrated the person. But° we must ask ourselves whether our tendency to defer entrance is in each case a matter of prudence or pusillanimity. The dynamics of identity growth happen in late adolescence in a never-to-be-repeated fashion. The period can be so painful precisely because it is a time of so much growth. Many can develop a true personal i~lentity as religious if we can work sympathetically and understandingly with them through this difficult period. Once the person has passed this crisis, he usually begins to experience the need for building again, for discovery of means to live his religious commitment that correspond to his new found, more authentic self. For example, he will often reject prayer structures at one point only to find himself later, but more genuinely, seeking again to find true means to express his prayerful attachment to God, in 340 Review fog Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 concert with the community. The end result can be very creative - but oniy, of course, if we know how to keep concerns and realities alive without stifling the individual's periods of docility, rejection, and new growth. Our best role, throughout the whole process, I am convinced, is to engage in an ongoing dialogue with the person, to serve as one who can sympathetically share the process, avoiding as much as possible the danger of becoming an object of too great dependence and thus the eventual target of rebellion. Our most useful help will be to aid the young person to handle his dependence, his rebellion, and his new, more authentic independence, to help him find his true place within life and especially within our congregation. We can facilitate the search; we cannot do the discovering for him. The lines between dependence, independence, helpful ques-tioning, and coercive probing are so delicate at this period and so different for each individual that we must face the fact that we will sometimes succeed and sometimes fail. That is part of the joy and suffering of our mission. Another major problem area that we must face in our ongoing dialogue with our candidates is that of psychosexual identity. Here I am of course thinking more than ever in a male context, and those who work with women must make whatever applications they find appropriate. The problem seems to be somewhat different for them. At any rate, our typical male candidate today is not very' sure of his masculinity or even of what masculinity means. Popular society gives him some images of the male hero which he is rather quick intellectually to reject, but which he cannot easily replace: the strong man, excelling in sports, never expressing powerful emotions, capable of handling his drink and his women. The young man today is caught between this image, which it is hard for him to avoid, and his value system, which calls into question most of this image and lays a heavy stress on the goodness of emotion and sensitivity, which makes him very conscious of his own needs and his own very active life in these areas. He is part of the so-called "generation without a father," for his relations with his father have probably been rather occasional and distant. He feels very much the lack of a strong masculine image, and he even doubts at times his own true virility. If this young man is to undertake a life project involving celibacy, he must be able to reassure himself that he can find friends to fill his affective needs. He is horrified by the prospect - one which he is quick to detect, accurately or not, about him - of the middle-aged religious who has no real friends. He can be willing to undertake celibacy only if he is able to experience it as a unique way of loving others. He feels that it is as great a sin to be celibate without love as it is to have sexual relations without love. Very conscious of the eros within himself, he has to grapple with ways of discovering, releasing, and expressing that eros that corres-pond to the identity which he is seeking as a religious. In simpler terms, he wants to learn how to love (as all young inert do), but if he i,s to be a religious, he must learn to love in such a way that his focus is sharing the Spirit - in such a way that the peace and joy and goodness of God is the focus of his interchange with people. He can be attracted by the ideal of a love that is selfless, but not by one that is isolated or theoretical; the selflessness he seeks, if he is capable of celibate love, is the self-emptying of moving together with other human beings beyond the self and towards the God who calls us on. Too often we older religious have biocked the unique experience of celibate love in our hearts. We may have been celibate, but we have perhaps not always been fully loving. Sometimes the experience of wanting to be possessive, protective, jealous, and competitive, to dominate another person instead of freeing him, may Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 341 be an almost inevitable part of learning to love and to find self in relation to God. The aim of the genuine celibate is to share the Spirit and not bind the persqn to ourselves. The usual challenge for the young person is learning to share the SPIRIT, rather than himself; the challenge for many of us is learning to SHARE that Spirit whom we find within ourselves but often tend to stifle. Only by finding his identity as a celibate person in the midst of genuine love and friendship can a young religious man today achieve a secure psychosexual identity. Much of our work consists of helping him through that painful process - not, again, by expecting him to repeat our own experience, but rather by sharing with him in as understanding a way as possible the progress of his search, Many other areas would have to be touched if our aim were to exhaust the questions that confront the young person in formation: discovery of a meaningful relationship with God in prayer and in service, growth in self-awareness and self-confidence, discovery of identity as a worker and a professional person, and so forth. But what has been said suffices to show how the person who works in formation today is in a very delicate situation, one that can be riddled with anxiety - the anxiety of not knowing exactly where we are going, having a sense of the fragility of human life and commitment, recognizing the precarious religious identity of many of our candidates and longing to protect it, but still having to deal creatively with each one's personal quest and realizing that only he, under the guidance of the Spirit, can fashion his own life. If I may conclude, in Pauline fashion, with a catalogue of the virtues to which we are called, I believe they include a buoyant, persevering zest for life; a willingness to live with some anxiety, to let things and people be as they are; and a creative acceptance that affirms all the good in each person and helps him but does not coerce him to channel it towards the growth of mature religious identity. Abov.e all we need to develop a capacity for creative listening - listening to people as they are, without passing judgment, yet giving them our honest insights and letting the call to growth in the kingdom sound through us. All of this demands what Paul characterizes again and again as "patience" and "magnanimity" - hypomone, the gift of persevering zest, of withstanding pr.essures with love and graciousness; and makrothymia, the "great big heart" that is able to let God and men touch it and fill it and call on it no matter what. There is probably no role in religious life today that calls more than ours for deeper prayer, more hope, and more faith in God's loving strength - for more "waiting on the Lord." Perhaps our motto should be taken from Isaiah: "Those who wait for the Lord renew their strength, run and do not grow weary, walk and never tire" (Is 40:30). THOMAS N. McCARTHY Entry Age for Church Vocations [Thomas N. McCarthy is Vice President for Student Affairs at La Salle College; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19141.] Optimum age for entry into Church vocations continues to be a controversial subject. During the 1960's many seminaries and religious institutes, yielding to both internal and external pressures, raised entrance age requirements from early to late adolescence, and during that decade many permitted the demise of high school juniorates. Pressures for further change persist. The thrust of the early 1970's appears to be toward a further delay of entry from ageseventeen or eighteen to twenty, twenty-one, or beyond and with this a growing trend to phase out college level minor seminaries and scholasticates. At the same time that delayed entry for younger candidates is being encouraged, the admission of older candidates, that is, those over thirty years of age, is being actively encouraged. The purpose of this paper is to provide some empirical information on the relationship of applicant age to entry/non-entry rates among those who present themselves as candidates to Church vocations during post high school years and to persistence/attrition rates among those who enter then. The figures reported here are taken from a larger study currently being completed in which 750 candidates to two institutes of teaching brothers, 360 candidates to an institute of religious priests, and 1100 candidates to four institutes of teaching sisters were followed up for periods ranging from three to thirteen years to find out who entered and who did not, who had persisted and who had withdrawn. The relationship of these outcomes to characteristics of the people at the time they became applicants was then analyzed. Some of the applicant characteristics studied were age, education', ability, personality, and interests. The results of this study provide some empirical grounds on which to base policies about when people should be admitted to Church vocations - information which is currently not available in the literature. There are, of course, many relevant factors, of which empirical evidence is one, in a policy decision of this sort. Some Influences on Postponing Entry Among reasons for the demise of early adolescent entry to Church vocations in the United States are support from Rome for the delay, changes in family life, psychological and sociological theory, evidence of very high drop-out rates among high school age entrants, and feelings of interpersonal deficiencies among the current generation of religious leaders. While Rome has declined to officially condemn early entry - indeed it continues to encourage 12-13-year-old entry in some countries - in 1969 the Sacred Congregation for Religious and for Secular Institutes issued a document,Instruction on the Renewal of Religious Formation, recommending the practice of postponing Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 343 entrance for a year or two after high school graduation. The document moved beyond the recommendation that seminaries and religious orders get out of high school age formation - the cause c61~bre of the sixties - to getting out of some college age formation work as well. The recommendation rests on the assumption that older entrants would be more mature and consequently better able to profit from spiritual training. It also rests on the related assumption that, being more mature, older entrants should be more stable vocationally. These assumptions have not been put to an empirical test for religious candidates. It is not known if being older would in fact be related to greater maturity nor is it known if being older would be associated with higher persistence. The purpose of this paper is to provide information for testing the latter assumption among post high school age candi-dates. On theoretical grounds "one would expect that post high school entry, that is, entering when about seventeen or eighteen years old, should be associated with more stable career choices than entering prior to that time. That expectation is based on changes in family life, typical career choice patterns in the United States, Erikson's theory of ego identity, and Super's career development theory. The question of achieving greater vocational stability by delaying entry to even later ages, however, remains an open one. The American family, often mother dominated during the thirties when fathers suffered crushing economic humiliation and during the first half of the forties when men were off to war, has come more under the influence of father in the past twenty-five years, Undoubtedly this is one of the reasons for the decline in vocations which began to occur in the mid to late sixties. There is ample evidence that mother is most frequently the primary inspiration and support of religious vocations. Fichter is quoted by Rooney (1970) as reporting evidence for the greater influence of priests than of mothers in priestly vocations. Later research, especially that of Potvin and Suziedelis (1969), however, clearly supports the primary role of mother. In all likelihood there is no essential disagreement between these findings. I suspect that maternal influence is probably the major predisposing factor in the development of priestly or religious interests and that the influence of a given priest or'religious is generally the precipitating factor associated with a specific choice of institute. Mothers generally are more religious in orientation than fathers are, and with declining maternal influence and a corresponding increase in paternal influence, I think it can be safely assumed that today's teenagers are not as subject to family p.ressures to enter church vocations as was formerly true. It can be assumed further that pressures of this sort are felt most greatly in early teen years, that is, before an independent sense of self is well developed, than in the late teen years when eg.o identity normally is firmer. Thus a strong maternal influence on Church vocation choices most likely would be associated with both early entry and high rates of entry, while waning maternal influence would be associated with later and declining entry rates. Furthermore, if the dynamics of husband-wife, parent-child relation-ships have indeed changed with father re-assuming greater ascendancy since the"mid " 1940's, one could also infer support for a psychoanalytical interpretation that children in their early teens today should feel less heavy maternal emotional demands than was true of youngsters in the past. Consequently today's youth should feel less need to escape the home and these demands. Also instrumental in supporting delay of entry until after high school is the general tendency in America today to put off professional career choices until 344 Review for Religious~ Volume 31, 1972/3 college. Typical career development patterns now c~ll for a tentative choice of broad field and entrance into training for it around age eighteen. This generally is foll6wed by a period of narrowing course and career selection from around age 20 which eventually culminates for those who successfully complete career training in actual job entry around age 22-25. The near universality of this pattern for professional careers appears to be having a persuasive influence on Church pers.onnel practices. Both advocates and adversaries of delayed entry accept the premise that there must be substantial differences between preparation for Church vocations and preparation for secular careers. Education for the Church requires both an academic and a personal formation side, whereas preparation for secular careers is almost always restricted to the former. Paradoxically, agreement about this has fed the controversy about optimum entry age, both sides using it to make their case. Advocates of early entry have argued that the seed of a vocation is typically implanted early, will not be properly cultivated and is unlikely to grow outside a religious house of formation, and that vocations will be reduced unless early admission is permitted. Adversaries have argued that a person in his early teens does not know his own mind and that he needs the broader experiences - especially heterosocial ones - of ordina~'y family and social life before he is mature enough to profit from the spiritual formation side of Church vocation preparation. The immense popularity of Erikson's theory of adolescent identity crisis has had a remarkable effect on the attitudes of Church authorities toward proper entry age. Erikson's views about the development of a sense of self-identity, more than the views of any other theoretician, have provided the rationalization for delaying entry until an individual has achieved sufficient psychological independence from the primary adults in his life to have an ego identity of his own. That independence is thought to occur generally around age eighteen rather than at the beginning of the teens when so many youngsters formerly were funneled into religious or clerical life. Two recent religious writers, Mitchell (1970) and Gerlach (1971), have argued the viewpoint that the nature of a Church vocation requires entrants to have resolved not only the teenage identity crisis but also to have achieved a successful resolution of the problem of how to be intimate with another, the next level in Erikson's developmental theory. This viewpoint is offered as a basis for a further delay of entry age to twenty or so. Other than the theory behind the position, I find little else to support it. To my knowledge there is no published empirical information comparing the eventual social adjustment and persistence of entrants at one age to entrants at another age. Nor am 1 aware of any evidence that learning how to be intimate outside of religious life generalizes to the special circumstances within the life. On the contrary, this strikes me like a girl telling an interested boy to go learn how to make love and then come back when he knows how. He'll probably go elsewhere and learn all right, but it is not likely that he'll return to her. Super's career development theory, thanks to the promulgation of it among Church leaders by people like Kinnane (1970), also has influenced the move toward post high school entry. Super has proposed that the specification of a career choice, that is, electing a given career and taking concrete steps to prepare for it, normally occurs between ages eighteen and twenty-one and follows a period of roughly four years (ages 14-18) during which a career preference is crystalized out of an individual's growing awareness of his own interests, values, abilities, and opportuni-ties. Following Super's reasoning, entering the preparatory stage of a career before Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 345 age eighteen would have, for most people, the effect of foreclosing other options before the individual knows himself and the world of careers well enough to make a sound choice. For Super the choice of career involves a way of implementing one's concept of oneself, and a person is not ready to do that until the self-concept is relatively clear. Drop-out rates have never been well publicized even in professional literature and as a result are hard to document, especially over long periods of time. An occasional master's dissertation (see Verstynen, 1948) and studies dealing with some other aspect of seminary life sometimes report this information. People involved in Church personnel administration also generate a reservoir of information, often more anecdotal than systematic, about attrition rates. By the middle 1960's these varied sources, admittedly not rigorously scientific, had provided some foundation for the belief that drop-out rates are inversely related to age at entry. Patterson (1942), for example, reported a drop-out rate of over 80% for those who entered one seminary after grade eight declining to just over 75% for those who entered after having had some high school. So far as I know, to date there has been no systematic attempt to establish relationships between age of candidature and entry/nonentry, persistence/attrition rates across different types of church voca-tions. Is age of candidacy related to entry/nonentry or persistence/attrition in the same way for brothers, priests, and sisters? Dissatisfaction with interpersonal aspects of their lives is evident among a large number of the current generation of priests and professed religious. This is one of the most common complaints to come out of several studies over the past five years (see Schneider and Hall, 1970; Louis, Bowles, and Grace, 1967). Many in Church vocations feel that interpersonal deficiencies could have been corrected had candidates been required to remain outside the walls for a longer period of time. While there is no direct evidence that this in fact would happen, the desire to have better interpersonal relationships has been strong enough to persuade many to this viewpoint. All of these factors appear to have contributed to the demise of entry before high school graduation and to support of the current trend to delay entry for another year or two after that. It is a curious comment on the times that during all the controversy over this matter of optimum age for entry very little research was carried out to assess the actual psychological impact of formation on individuals at different ages. Keefe's study (1965) is the only one I know of which compared individuals of the same age in seminary and non-seminary high schools to see if there was a differential effect on maturity associated with one type of school as opposed to the other. He concluded that neither group was more mature than the other. Other doctoral dissertations done at Fordham (Mastej, Sandra, Vaughan) have shown increasing signs of maladjustment during college years of formation, but the cross-section methodology used in those studies leaves open the question of whether the subjects themselves actually changed or whether the group average changed as a result of better adjusted people having dropped out. 1 think the weight of the evidence on theoretical grounds, social changes, and on what empirical information exists clearly justifies delay of entry until the comple-tion of high school. As to justifying delay beyond this, it seems to me that empirical evidence is currently lacking and that the implications of theoretical positions such as Erikson's developmental views are open to conjecture. At the same time, however, there does appear to be a growing trend among college 346 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 students to put off career decisions longer than was true in the recent past. Some Empirical Evidence In 1970 I did a follow-up study of approximately 2200 candidates I had examined for seven Church institutes during the years 1957-1967. Information about age at the time they applied for entry was available for 742 candidates to two provinces of the same institute of teaching brothers, 354 candidates to an order of religious priests, and 1089 candidates to four institutes of teaching sisters. Their age when they were examined for admission was then studied in relationship to their having entered or not and to their having persisted or not for those who entered. The examinations were conducted on the average 3-9 months before actual entry. On the average when they sought entry the candidates to the brothers were 17 years, 11 months, to the priesthood 19 years, 2 months, and to the sisters 18 years, 5 months (see Table 1). The half-year difference between candidates to the brothers and sisters, the eight month difference between candidates to the sisters and the priesthood, and the fourteen month difference between candidates to the brothers and priesthood were all statistically significant and could not be accounted for by chance. Thus each type of institute attracted candidates of somewhat different ages. Table 1. Mean ages in months of candidates, nonentrants, entrants, persisters, and withdrawers for seven institutes of brothers, priests, and sisters.* Brothers Standard (2 Provinces) N Mean Deviation t p Candidates 742 215.3 19.7 Non-Entrants 389 216.8 24.9 Entrants 353 212.9 15.9 2.56 .05 Persisters 151 214.0 18.1 With'drawers 202 212.2 14.0 1.01 ns. Priests Standard (1 Institute) N Mean Deviation t p Candidates 354 229.6 34.4 Non-Entrants 60 239.8 45.2 Entrants 294 227.5 31.3 2.00 .05 Persisters 98 227.8 29.1 Withdrawers 196 227.3 32.3 ,13 ns. Sisters Standard (4 Institutes) N Mean Deviation t p Candidates " 1089 221.2 24.4 Non-Entrants 222 228.8 32.5 Entrants 867 220.5 21.5 3.60 .01 Persisters 469 219.7 18.2 Withdrawers 398 221.4 24.8 1.13 ns. *Age refers to how old the person was when he was examined as a part of the application process. Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 347 Older candidates to all three types of institutes were less likely to enter than were younger candidates. As shown in Table 1 the differences between the average ages of entrants and nonentrants were statistically significant beyond chance expectancy in all three cases. For the brothers nonentrants were on the average four months older than entrants, for the seminary a full year older, and for the sisters eight months older. Clearly promise, at least from the viewpoint of entrance, was not associated with being older for these seven institutes during the eleven years from 1957 through 1967. It would not be correct to conclude from this that superiors had a tendency to deny admission to older candidates on the basis of age alone. The more usual situation was that being older tended to be associated with some other factors considered signs of poor promise: indecisiveness, family problems, psycho-sexual problems, and questionable motivation being common. Only eleven of the 2185 candidates were over thirty years old. The brothers had two such candidates and neither entered; the priests had five, of whom three entered; the sisters had four, of whom two entered. All of the other candidates were in their late teens or twenties. At the lower end of the continuum 78 of the brothers' candidates were sixteen in comparison to 6 seminary candidates and 27 candidates to the convents in that age group. The brothers had 2 candidates who were fifteen and the seminary 1. The sisters had none that young. All of these younger candidates have been lumped in the 17 and under category in Table 2. Table 2. Proportions of entrants, non-entrants, persisters, and withdrawers by age of candidates to seven institutes of brothers, priests, and sisters. Total Candi- Non- Institute Age dates Entrants Entrants Persisters Withdtawers N N % N % N %* %** N %* P 5 2 40 3 60 1 33 20 2 67 40 S Base Ratet (17%) (83%) (34%) (28%) (66%) (54%) S 4 R S Base Rater * Proportion of entrants (All figures ~e for age at 115 19 506 81 274 54 44 232 46 37 60 19 256 81 142 55 44 114 45 36 37 28 93 72 49 53 37 44 47 33 8 44 10 56 4 40 22 6 60 33 2 50 2 50 0 0 0 2 100 50 (20%) (80%) (54%) (43%). (46%) (36%) ** Proportion of candidates ~- Proportions without regard to age time the person was examined during the application process). B 2 2 100 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 E R Base Rate~ (52%) (48%) (42%) (20%) (58%) (27%) S 348 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 The largest single age group applying to all three types of institutes were seventeen years old: 94% of the brother candidates, 46% of the seminary candidates, and 55% of the sister candidates. This was followed by those in the eighteen and nineteen-year-old bracket who comprised 19%, 30%, and 29% of the candidates to the brothers, seminary, and sisters respectively. Five percent of the candidates to the brothers were between twenty and twenty-four, 19% of those applying to the seminary, and 12% to the convents. Very few candidates to any of the institutes were between twenty-five and twenty-nine (see Table 2 for all of these figures). The base rate figures in Table 2 indicate the overall proportions of nonentrants, entrants, persisters, and withdrawers without regard to age. If being a given age was a "good sign" for entry, the proportion of those entering from that age group should be above that of the base rate. For the brothers and priests the 17-year-olds had the best entry rates and for the sisters those in the 17-19 age brackets had the best entry rates. For the brothers all ages over 17 had entry rates lower than the base rate; for the priests those in the 20-24 and over 30 age groups had lower entry o rates; and for the sisters all those 20 and over had lower entry rates. Do these same patterns hold with regard to persistence and attrition for the seven institutes? The data are not nearly so clear on this point. The figures in Table 1 show no appreciable age differences between those remaining in and those who left. It is important to bear in mind that all figures are for the ages of persisters and withdrawers at the time they applied for entry, not at the time of the follow-up. Two base rate figures are given for persisters and withdrawers in Table 2. The first refers to the proportion of those who entered who eventually remained or left; the second refers to the proportion of total candidates wt~o remained or left. Brothers For the brothers 42% of the 353 entrants were still in when the follow-up was done. The best persistence record was for those few entrants (1 I) who were between 20-24 when they applied for entry. On the other hand, the best persistence record for all candidates was for those who were either 17 years old or between 25-29 when they sought entry. Only two persisters were in the latter age group, however, versus 122 in the l~-year-old group. Clearly, delaying entry for candidates to these institutes w~uld have resulted in a very heavy loss of people who are still persisting. This, of course, assumes that the interest of the 17-year-olds would not have been sustained while waiting for a later entry - an outcome which I think is highly likely, though not amenable to proof from these data, even with lots of tender loving care in extramural aspirancies. The normal training period for these brothers extends for six years. In general, though this was not true for everyone at the time of the follow-up in 1970, it can be assumed that those still persisting from among candidates who had applied during the years from 1957 through 1962 were finally professed. These men would have been in their respective institutes anywhere from eight to thirteen years. In absolute numbers far and away the greatest number of final professed came from among candidates who had applied at age 17. There were 63 professed from that age bracket versus 5 from those who had applied at age 16, 13 from the 18-19- year-old applicants, and 3 from the 20-24-year-olds. On the basis of the proportions of candidates within each age group who remained to be finally professed, again the highest proportion was found among the 17-year-olds, though the differences from one age group to another were Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 349 relatively small: 17% of the 16-yea.r-old candidates eventually were finally pro-fessed, 23% of the 17-year-olds, 15% of the 18-19-year-olds, and 20%of the 20-24- year-olds. The entrants in each age group who had taken final vows were distributed as follows: 45% of the 16-year-olds, 48% of the 17-year-olds, 37% of the 18-19-year-olds, and 60% of the 20-24-year-olds. With only 3 people in the latter category, one could hardly justify delaying entrance to that age unless one could also demonstrate their superiority over the 81 professed who had entered at the younger age. The differences between the persistence rates of candidates and the persistence rates of entrants suggest that pre-ad.mission screening improves persistence rates rather substantially at every age. Priests In the case of the priests the overall persistence rate for the 294 entrants was 34% in comparison to 28% for the 354 candidates. The best persistence record for entrants was achieved by those who had applied when they were between 20-24 followed by the 17-year-old applicants. The best persistence record for candidates was achieved by 17-year-olds followed by those 20-24. There were fairly sizeable numbers of persisters in all the age brackets from 17 through 24 but substantially greater numbers who withdrew. Thus it would be very difficult to generalize about an optimum age for entering this seminary aside from being under age 25. At the time of the follow-up 19 of 118 candidates who had applied during the years 1961 and 1962 had been in the seminary eight or nine years. On the average they had been 19 years, 9 months when they sought entry. Of the 19 a total of 10 were ordained. The youngest candidate among the ordained had been 18 when he applied. The majority (6 of the 10) had been between 20-24; 1 was 27; 2 were 19. There is a strong suggestion from these few figures that for this seminary being in one's early twenties was a better sign of promise for eventual ordination than being younger. It needs to be pointed out, however, that older candidates had less education to complete when they entered and were thus more likely to have been ordained within the eight-to nine-year span covered by this study than were younger entrants. When the follow-up was done 9 non-ordained of the 19 persisters over this time span had been 18 or younger on becoming candidates: 1 was 16; 5 were 17; and 3 were 18. Accordingly, one might still be reluctant to deny admission to 17-year-olds. Looked at another way and assuming the 6 remaining 16 and 17-year-old persisters all accept ordination, that would result in an expected ordination rate of 13% for the 46 candidates in that age bracket during the years 1961-62 versus an actual ordination rate of 26% for the 23 candidates who were between 20-24. The comparable ordination rates for entrants in these age brackets would be 15% versus 37%, respectively. For candidates 18-19 years old, 3 already were ordained and assuming ordination of the remaining 3, their ordination rate against the total candidates in that age bracket would be. 14% versus 18% for entrants in that age group. Though the numbers involved are very small to draw firm generalizations, the ordination rates, both actual and assumed, give rather clear support to the view that candidates in their early twenties show greater promise than do those in their late teens. Sisters Fifty-four percent of the 867 who entered the four convents were still in as of 1970 in comparison to 43% of the total 1089 candidates. The persistence rates of 350 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 all entrants under 25 years old differed very little from one another: 54% of the 17-year-old entrants were still in, 55%of the 18-19-year-olds, and 53%of the 20~24- year-olds. Entrants over age 25, a very small number (10), were less likely to persist (40%) than the others. Using the total pool of candidates as a reference point the best persistence risks came from those who were between 17 and 19 (44%) when they applied. The poorest risks were those over 30 (0%), followed by those between 25 and 29 (22%), and 20-24 (37%). A separate analysis was done of the 209 candidates who had applied to three of the convents sometime between 1958 and 1962 and who were still in as of 1970. The fourth convent did not begin psychological evaluations until 1963 and was excluded for that reason. Thus for the other three institutes those persisting had been in their respective convent for eight to twelve years and normally would have been finally professed by that time. For these people essentially the same persistence rates were found for all ages between 17 and 24. Of the 17-year-old entrants 53% were professed compared to 54% of the 18-19-year-olds, and 56% of the 20-24-year-olds. Using candidates as the base for comparisons, 47% of the 17-year-olds were professed, 47% of the 18-19-year-olds, and 42% of the 20-24-year olds. In absolute numbers far and away the greatest number of professed (I 13) applied when they were 17 followed by 67 18-19-year-olds, 23 20-24-year~olds, 3 25-29-year-olds, and 3 16-year-olds. No candidate over thirty remained in.Sixteen-year- old candidates were a rarity. There were only four and all applied to one convent. Three of the four were eventually professed. What can one make of the figures for the convents? With about one-half of the 17- year-old candidates having remained in the convent at least eight to twelve years, it would be hard to support the contentii3n that they are a less stable group than older candidates and thus should be delayed from entering for another year, two years, or more. Profession rates for 18-19-year-old entrants are no better than theirs and after that age the persistence rates drop off. Unless one could assume holding the interest of 17-19-year-olds during a period of delay, a large drop in absolute numbers of those who eventually take final vows can be predicted and probably without much change in overall persistence rates given the same amount of screening done in the past. Summary Observations An increase in the number of nonentrants among candidates to Church vocations is one likely consequence of postponing entry beyond high school graduation. Age in itself would not be the reason for this increase. However, age-related factors such as career indecisiveness, social and sexual adjustment, and similar factors probably would be. A second consequence very likely would be a sharp decline in the number of candidates making application. This already is evident for institutes which have adopted a policy of postponed entrance for a year or more after high school graduation. The brothers, in particular, would be affected by this. The two brothers institutes in this study do not conduct colleges whereas the institute of priests and the four institutes of sisters each conduct at least one college and in some cases :two or more. 1 do not know if this was a contributing factor to brothers attracting the youngest candidates of all three types of institutes and having had relatively small numbers of candidates in their early twenties, but 1 suspect that was the case. In addition, for the brothers almost three times the proportion of candidates in their early twenties failed to enter than was true for the seminary and convents. I take Review for Refigious, Volume 31, 1972/3 351 this to mean that applicant proximity to the age group with which the Church institute works may be a significant factor both in becoming a candidate and in entering. Persistence was related to ag~ differently for the three types of institutes. Considering only those who had remained in for periods ranging from eight to thirteen years, for the brothers 17-year-old entrants had the best persistence records and in absolute numbers constituted by far the largest group of persisters compared to other ages; for entrants to the priesthood being in the early twenties was associated with a persistence rate twice that for 17-year-olds and approximately twice that for 18-19-year-olds as well; for the sisters essentially the same persistence rates were found for all ages between 17 and 24. The absolute number of persisters was much higher for 17-year-olds, however, than for any other age group. These figures indicate that it is unwise to generalize about optimum' age for entry without taking into consideration the type of institute. Given the same set of circumstances for the future that prevailed in these institutes through 1970 - an admittedly questionable assumption - one would have to predict that postponing entry to age 20 for the brothers could shortly put those institutes out of business. For the seminary reported on here to do that could result in a reduction of up to 50% of those who remain in to be eventually ordained, though I would estimate~ the more likely reduction would be on the order of 20-25%. For the convents to postpone entry to age 20 one would predict a very sharp drop in total number of entrants but without appreciably improving persistence rates of those eventually admitted. The net effect would be a substantial drop in new professed. All of this obviously assumes a simpler relationship between age and persistence than fits the facts, but the estimates have some empirical foundation. I think the more important question than simple persistence is whether one can identify among post high school candidates those who are mature enough to hold promise for an effective ministry. On the side of negative characteristics, there is firm evidence that candidates with poor motivation and poor prognosis due to family problems can be identified with a high degree of success (Weisgerber, 1969). The very sharp differences for the brothers in persistence rates for entrants from the different age groups in comparison to candidates from the different age groups probably reflects the results of effective screening. The brothers admitted only about 50% of their candidates. Similar differences in persistence rates were not found between entrants and candidates to the seminary which had not screened nearly so rigorously. Some institutes prefer to admit candidates without putting strong emphasis on the psychological evaluation. This typically results in higher entry rates and lower persistence rates, an outcome which indirectly suggests that signs of promise among candidates can be identified with some accuracy by pre-admission evaluation. So, too, does the much higher long-term persistence rate for the brothers than for the seminary, the former institutes having been more selective than the latter. The research project of which this report is a part is also concerned with specifying psychological attributes which distinguish successful 17-year-old candi-dates from nonsuccessful ones, success defined in terms of interpersonal relation-ships and job competence after final profession. Preliminary results suggest this can be done to some extent for a given institute but that the findings are not generalizable even between two similar institutes, for example, between two institutes of brothers engaged in the same work. This, too, would argue against 352 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 making specific entry age recommendations for all Church vocations and would argue instead for institutes establishing entry age policies based on studies of their own candidates. REFERENCES Gerlach, J. Form. ation: Some Reflections and Convictions. Review for Religious, Vol. 30, No. 5, September, 1971. Keefe, J. Maturity io the High School Seminary: An Empirical Approach. The Catholic Psychological Record, 1969, 6, 1, ,I 5-29. Kinnane, J. F., Career Development for Priests and Religious. Washington, D.C.: C.A.R.A. 1970. Lewis, A., Bowles, W. and Grace, R. Attitude Study Among Priests and Religious in New Orleans Archdiocese. Project ~560, May, 1967 Unpublished paper. Mitchell, K. R. Priestly Celibacy from a Psychological Perspective. The Journal of Pastoral Care, Vol. 24, No. 4, December, 1970. Patterson, H. A Study of Student Mortality at St. Anthony's Seminary and Suggestions for Improving the Situation. Master's Dissertation, Catholic University of America, | 942. Potvin, R. H. and Suziedelis, A. Seminarians of the Sixties. Washington! C.A.R.A. 1969. Rooney, J. J. Psychological Research on the American Priesthood: A Review of the~ Literature in E. C. Kennedy and V. J. Hecker, The Loyola Psychological Study of the Ministry and Life of the American Priests (Washington: National Conference of Catholic Bishops, 1971). Sacred Congregation of Religious and for Secular Institutes. Instruction on the Renewal of Religious Formation. Washington, D.C.: United States Catholic Conference, 1969. Schneider, B. and Hall, D. T. The Role of Assignment Characteristics in the Career Experiences of Diocesan Priests. in W. E. Bartlett (ed.) Evolving Religious Careers, Washington, D.C.: C.A.R.A. 1970. Verstynen, R. J. A Study of Perseverance in Relation to Vocations to the Priesthood. Master's Dissertation, Catholic University of America, 1948. Weisgerber, C. A. Psychological Assessment of Candidates for a Religious Order. Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1969. JOHN R. SHEETS, S.J. Soundings on the Present State of Religious Life [John R. Sheets, S.J., is professor of theology at Marquette University; 1131 West Wisconsin Avenue; Milwaukee, Wisconsir~ 53233.] Anyone who attempts to assess the present state of religious life in America today is in a position similar to that of a weatherman who might try to give a neat presentation of the weather across the country. It defies any neat categories. In one part it is calm, in another stormy. In one, it is warm; in another, below zero. High in the atmosphere there are currents of air which no one picks up without the proper instruments, while close to the earth there are other currents which everyone can feel. Changing the comparison, we would like to present some "soundings" concerning the present condition of religious life in America. "Soundings" is a safe word for what we would like to do. Taking soundings of the ocean floor, for example, is always a combination of accurate analysis plus some educated guesswork. At the same time, the nature of sounding what lies beneath the surface respects the fact that the picture can change very suddenly because of the constant movement of the currents. There are two assumptions underlying all that is said below. They are quite obvious, but it is necessary to mention them in order to put the rest of" the remarks in their proper context. The first assumption is this: There are certain fundamental components involved in all change which must interact harmoniously if there is to be growth and development. These components of change are mainly concerned with permanence and variability, sameness and newness, unity and diversity, continuity and discon-tinuity, conservation and innovation. When these components are mutally suppor-tive, there is progressive growth. When they fail to mesh and are at odds, the result is frustration, stagnation, fragmentation, and disintegration. The second assumption concerns the vital synthesis of these components. They are held together only through vision and values which are shared. The components are only mutually supportive if they are held together from above through faith enriched by love. Where faith is lost, these components lose their synthesizing center. They tend to break off and live a life of their own when the center is gone. On the other hand, where they are rooted in a common faith, then, while there may be stress and strain, there will inevitably be growth. We would like to make our soundings of religious life on the basis of these two assumptions. It seems that our soundings pick up an antagonism between these components of change as well as approaches to synthesis. We would like to hazard the opinion that this antagonism comes largely from an overreaction to what we 354 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 can vaguely call a "classical" view of religious life. This is the first point we would like to make. In the second place, we would like to comment on the fact that in many instances the synthesis is lost because the vision and values that were shared are no longer shared. In the third place, we want to call attention to the phenomenon of fresh synthesis that is taking place in many religious personally as well as in their congregations. Overreaction to the "Classical" Mentality We said above that growth depends on the harmonious interaction of the various components of change and that frustration occurs where these begin to be antagonistic to each other instead of supportive. One of the main sources of this antagonism today comes from an overreaction to the past. Today one often hears our own age of rapid change contrasted with a "classical" world view. This term is a hard one to nail down adequately. Among other things it connotes a mentality which is static, uniform, traditional, symmetrical. No period and no person in history ever verified this description perfectly. It is for the most part a mental construct. Nevertheless, in comparison with our present age, it does serve as a useful category. Our own age takes its orientation not only from the various forces that are at work, but also from the fact that these forces are fed by undertows of reaction toward the past. This is not an unusual phenomenon. Other periods of history have been marked largely by the way in which they reacted .to the past. The period of Romanticism, for example,took its shape and force largely as a reaction to the Enlightenment. The same process takes place in individuals as well as in groups. A person who has been brought up in a home that is overrestrictive can turn his initial taste of freedom into a spree of irresponsibility. It seems that many problems in religious life today come not simply from a legitimate reaction but from an overreaction to what can be vaguely called a "classical" form of religious life. Reaction in itself is not necessarily harmful. It can in fact provide impetus to move a person or a group forward. When it becomes an overreaction, however, it moves a person or a group into a position of imbalance. Overreaction can act like a blind force pushing a person or a group into a position beyond the point where they would normally go if they had full control of the situation. Where there is overreaction, reason does not lead. It is only called upon to legitimate the position a person has been forced into by overreaction. Similarly, overreaction is not the product of freedom and choice but of a passion generated by antagonism against a previous state of things. Reaction, as was said, can be an incentive to move beyond the point where one finds himself. Reaction can be the realm of the Spirit. Overreaction, on the other hand, is the realm of the demonic. Reaction can be the activity of the prophet. Overreaction is characteristic of the fanatic. Reaction is power under control. Overreaction is power without control. We can ascribe three main characteristics to the "classical" mentality. They are (1) anonymity, (2) structure, (3) subordination of the individual to the community. In lining up these characteristics we repeat the caution that they are largely a mental construct we put on the past. While they are verified, they are never found in an unmixed form. At the same time we want to avoid the idea that we are condemning the "classical" mentality. It is like pointing out a particular style of architecture that characterized a certain period in history. It is no reflection on the Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 355 genuinity of religious dedication in the past. Our contemporary "architecture" will become "classical" to the generations that follow us. The Reaction against Anonymity One of the reactions to what we called the classical mentality is the reaction against "being a nobody." It is a reaction against a certain kind of anonymity that was part of religious life. Perhaps anonymity is not the right word. In any case, the religious was not to call attention to himself as an individual. He was in a sense to " be a symbolic presence, where what he stood for shone through the individual characteristics. For this reason, particularly with religious women, the religious garb itself served an important function, not only in its positive value as sign, but also in what could be called a negative sense. Individual characteristics were "blacked out," very often to the point where only the face was visible. Whenever religious women today reminisce about the kind of clothes they used to wear, they usually do so with a mixture of humor, wonder, and relief, somewhat in the same way that children react to the old pictures in an album. However, when one realizes the thinking behind that manner of dress, it is not all that ridiculous. The dress was in some way to reduce what was purely individual in order to manifest the personal. Individual characteristics were suppressed to make room for what was beyond the individual. We are not calling for a return to those particular modes of dress. It is important, however, to understand the rationale behind them. The same thinking was behind the custom of changing one's name. When a religious gave up his family name and assumed a new name, this change was symbolic of a new mode of existence. This anonymity was a kind of a general condition in which religious, especially religious women, worked and lived. It monitored one's whole life. One's home, background, family, were kept hidden like a precious secret. We can all remember (except the ~,ery youngest of us) when one of the greatest childhood thrills was to discover the color of sister's hair, or to find out her real name. The cloister itself was a graphic symbol of this hiddenness. Today there is a strong reaction against any factor which is associated with anonymity. As HammarskjiSld observes in his diary, "Our final wish is to have scribbled off the wall our 'Kilroy was here.' " We all want to be recognized, not to be a nobody, but to be a somebody, and to have what we do acknowledged by others as our own work. Though we boast about our being able to go it alone, wo are very dependent on the recognition given us by others. No one can deny the value in such a reaction where it makes someone a more genuine person. Often, however, it results in making someone more of an individual, but less of a person. The difference between the individual and the personal is the difference in the color of one's eyes and the light in his eyes, or the shape of one's body and the genuineness of one's love. What is individual in us is (to use St. Paul's expression) the earthenware vessel in which we carry the personal. Where the individual is cultivated at the expense of the personal, we find something like those tiny Japanese trees which are very beautiful but unfruitful. While each of us has the temptation to sacrifice the person on the altar of the individual in us, the overreaction to the anonymity of the past has in many cases brought about a cult of individualism rather than a deepening of the personal. There is a difference between the liberation of the person and the liberation of what is individual in us. Often what passes for liberation of the personal.:in us is simply a disguised form of individualism. 356 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 Another aspect of this reaction against the anonymity of the past is evident in the strong movement to have a say in what is happening. In the past, religious, especially religious women, were to be seen, not heard. They never had a share in the decision-making in the parish, diocese, or Church. They were always obediently "there." Decisions from Rome, the Sacred Congregation of Religious, or the chancery office were accepted with unquestioning obedience, at least as far as execution was concerned. There was a certain mystique to the whole idea of authority in the Church. An interesting reaction has taken place, which in many instances has assumed the proportions of an overreaction. If in the past there was a mystique about authority, today there is a de-mystification of authority to the point where the very ¯ foundations of ecclesial authority are denied. Ecclesiastical authority, especially if it is of the unAmerican type, is relegated to something like baroque architecture, which is a relic of the past. In a very brief span of ten years, many religious, as individuals and as groups, have come of age, and issued their declaration of independence, often in the words dictated to them by some other authority. Chesterton's remark, though written decades ago, is apropos. He said: "Thousands of women rose up and said, 'We shall not be dictated to!' Then they sat down to be stenographers." It is unfortunate that an overreaction to a "classical" mode of exercising authority has led many to reject or to question the authority of the Church itself in matters touching their religious life. When this happens, another authority comes in to take the place of the one rejected. Nature abhors a vacuum. An authority vacuum is soon filled with another authority. Often the situation is like that described in the gospel, where seven devils enter who are worst than the first. In something of a similar vein, religious are feeling their "political oats." There is also a reaction to anonymity here. They are beginning to realize that they can and should have a voice in the affairs of the Church and society. Much of this is on the positive side of the ledger. There is a danger, however, that some may lose sight of the fact that a religious group does not exist primarily to exercise political pressures through the use of political tactics. Their political influence in fact is mainly exercised through witness to the gospel values in a manner which ve.ry often is incompatible with the strategies involved in politics. The Reaction against Structure We have commented on the imbalance that comes from an overreaction against a kind of "classical" arlonymity which we associate with religious life of the past. This same kind of a phenonmenon occurs in reaction to "structure." It is hard to pin down exactly what is contained in the word "structure?' Many use it in different ways. In any case, it seems to be loaded with many of the connotations we described as being part of the "classical" mentality. It conjures up spectres of impersonalism, inflexibility, regulation, and stereotype. In the past, at least in the case of many religious, practically every detail of their lives was regulated, the way they dressed, the order of the day, their manner of dealing with externs, their correspondence, and so forth. It is understandable that there should be a reaction to this type of regulation. But, as in the case with the reaction against anonymity, which has become the cult of the individual, here also the overreaction against structure has often turned into adolescent immaturity. There is almost an allergy to any type of regulation at all. Even language itself has to be purged of words that suggest anything like regulation. The word "rule" has Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 357 gone into the limbo of forbidden words and has been replace.d with safe words like "guidelines," "directives." As an overreaction to the regulation of everything, many are spastic about the regulation of anything. In many cases even the revised constitutions, the product of much work, prayer, study, discussion, are very careful to be "safe" in their terminology. Words that have any connotation of structure are carefully avoided. Very often these constitutions are written on the tide of overreaction and are careful to play down any idea of subordination of self to anything like structure. Yet it is a matter of common sense that structure is one of the components of growth that we spoke of earlier. It is like the branches of a tree through which the life flows to produce the fruit. Of course, structure without life is dead, and life without structure is aimless. Along with this reaction to overregulation, there is also the reaction to oversupervision. Some religious consider their duty is done if they "check in" occasionally to let superiors know what is happening. In many cases, superiors themselves have abdicated any real role of authority. They see their role only as serving as a kind of check point to keep the traffic running smoothly. These remarks should not be construed as hankering after the days of yore, where every detail in a person's life was regulated, and being an authority was identified with giving orders. They serve to point out a fact, however. Overreaction to that kind of a life has often resulted in a caricature not simply of religious life, but of any kind of life, which needs a certain structure and regulation if there is to be concerted work for a goal. The Reaction to Institution Along with the reaction against anonymity and structure, there is the reaction against institution. While this word is related to structure, when we use it here we are thinking of the corporate nature of the religious group. It takes into consideration the relationship of the part to the whole, and the whole to the part. We see the same phenomenon here that we have commented on above. There is a profound malaise with everything connoted" by the word "institutional." Once again, as a reaction against certain features of our institutional life, this movement can be very healthy. However, when it becomes an overreaction, the components of change begin to clash instead of supporting each other. One aspect of the reaction to "institution" is the movement to small commu-nities. It is an attempt to "de-institutionalize" one's life. It is too early to assess the results of this. In some cases, it has resulted in a more genuine community life, both within the small community, and in the relationship of the small community to all of the other communities. In other instances, the s~ into individuals who share the same rooms without sh~ As part of this reaction against institution, there i., vision of one's apostolate to one's personal career. apostolate of many religious communities has lost tl~ has been reduced for all practical purposes to a group own flight plans. The apostolates that have suffered areas, where hospitals and schools have closed and r facing an uncertain future, because they have no !~ whether religious will still be interested in such work. Now I feel I must tread where even angels fear religious garb. A few years ago (though it seems like a concerned with modifying the religious garb. Now it nail communities degenerate ing anything else. the tendency to narrow the is a great tragedy that the community dimension and individuals turning in their the most are those in rural aany others find themselves uarantee from year to year walk. It is the matter of ',entury) the discussions were a matter in many cases of 358 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 adoption of a mode of dress which in no way disti.nguishes a person as a religious. This is a very touchy subject. Though the question of clothing is trivial in itself when compared with values like faith and charity, it assumes in practice an importance out of all proportion to the fact that it is something extrinsic, while the other values are intrinsic. This phenomenon should already give us a hint concerning the nature of clothing. Clothes are never merely extrinsic. They are like the face. They mirror forth the person behind the face. We have been speaking of the reaction against anonymity, structure, and institution, where an overreaction results in individualism instead of personalism, fragmentation instead of integration, careerism instead of group apostolate. It seems that the question of clothing is of particular importance because it becomes as it were the symbol of the reaction against all of these classical features, not just against one of them. On the other hand, is it not possible that it has become an anti-symbol, where it symbolizes individualism, fragmentation, and careerism? We hope that, even though this is such a sensitive subject, most of us are beyond the stage where rational discussion is swallowed up in emotional reactions. We seem to have forgotten that the social sciences have given us much insight into the matter of clothes. All studies of human clothing point out the basic fact that clothes are not just things. They are part of the body-person, t Leaning on the research of the social sciences, we would like to comment on two aspects of clothing: what we wear gives visible shape to our inner attitude, and in turn what we wear shapes the attitudes. In both cases, this comes from the fact that clothes have a symbolic nature. Our inner attitudes are expressed in the way we speak, act, and dress. This is the law of our being. Human clothing is not just a protection against the elements. It forms an important link in that interlocking network of symbols in which we communicate with one another. Clothes are a function of meaning even more than words. They do in fact provide the light in which people interpret our words. We all recall the story of the Turkish astronomer in The Little Prince. No learned society accepted the report of his discovery of the new asteroid until he changed from Turkish clothes into European costume. Clothing, therefore, is never neutral. While this is true for every human being, it seems that it is especially true. for women. Clothes are not blank cartridges. When Judith prepared to meet Holofernes, she knew what every woman knows. Clothes are a manifestation of inner intentionality. The medium is the message. There are three levels of our existence, each of which is manifested by the way we dress. On the first level, clothes manifest our inner attitudes. On the second level, they manifest something more superficial, a job that we have, as we see in the uniform of a policeman, a soldier, a nurse. On the third and most profound level, they symbolize our meaning. A wedding dress, for example, is more than a symbol of an inner attitude, more than a uniform someone wears to get married. It symbolizes the meaning of a person's life, which from this point on is to be a life-with-another. The same is true of the vestments worn by the priest when he is celebrating. They symbolize more than a mentality. They are not a uniform used for worship. They serve to draw the worshippers into a new mode of existence. The symbolic aspect of clothing is obvious. There is another aspect of clothing, I see for example in Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences the entries under "Dress," "Fashion," and so forth; see also: J. C. Flugel, The Psychblogy of Clothes (New York, 1950), and Mary Shaw Ryan, Clothing: A Study in Human Behavior (New York, 1966). Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 however, which we do not think about as often. Clotl as the saying goes, "clothes make the man." In a ge man more really than man makes the clothes. All psychologists, and for that matter anyone w aware that the most sure way to change a person's v the symbols which surround his life. A person's changing his ideas alone. The change comes fr( meaningful sense symbols which gradually change sudden a person finds himself thinking in a different way a person dresses affects the way he thinks. self-image; they create it. Clothes are like reflectors. are, but they also act as reflectors in which we see of what we see. It is of great importance for religious to avail the~ matter of clothing provided by the social scientists. 0 that clothes are a way of speaking. The question to be To what extent should what I wear speak to others' inner character, or my job, or my meaning? Similarb psychological effect that clothes have on our thinking" Let us sum up our remarks for this first part. We r~ growth depend on the harmonious interworking of t many cases we saw th, at these components, insteac ended up in antagonistic positions. This can be trace overreaction to what is called a classical mentality. Ma from reaction, but where reaction gets out of bound: frustrate progress. We pointed out three areas in whi have been particularly strong: against anonymity, : nature of religious life which we globally describ~ commented on the fact that attitudes toward, religi influenced by the same type of reaction. The Loss of Shared Values and Shared Vision We mentioned above that the components of c! synthesis through shared faith and shared values. Whe works and lives at cross purposes. They are like rowe trying to row in his own direction. There is no doubt that the atmosphere of seculari~ and hearts of many religious. This is a process of h that are distinctively Christian are leveled to a vague, h betterment. Those values of the gospel which are rationalistic mind and sinful nature are de-scandaliz~ categories of relevance. Those gospel values which res Such are the scandal of the cross, the virtues of h~ renuntiation, repentance, and penance. In some cases secularization has not only de-Christ: even infected the ideas that some religious have about To all appearances some religious seem to have lost the Sometimes the gospel values crystalized in the tra chastity, poverty, and obedience, are lost in the perf~ vows is "updated" into some more meaningful an~ 359 es not only manifest the man; luine sense, clothes make the no knows human nature, are ,hole personality is to change character is not changed by ,m the pressure exerted by the concepts, until all of a way than he did before. The They not only express his ['hey not only reflect what we urselves and assume the shape tselves of the insights into the ne cannot avoid the basic fact answered by everyone is this: ' Should clothes manifest my ,, we have to be aware of the entioned that all progress and ~e components of growth. In of supporting one another, at least in great part, to an ny positive features can come ~ it delivers ultimatums which .~h this overreaction see.ms to ;tructure, and the corporate d ds institution. Finally we ~us garb are to "some extent ~ange are kept in a healthy a these are lost, a community rs in a boat, each of whom is ation has infected the mind~ arizontalization where values umanistic concern for human a perennial scandal to the d and adapted to the bland st adaptation are abandoned. ~nility, docility, abnegation, anized the gospel, but it has God, Christ, and the Church.

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I believe that England would claim the moon, if there were a way to rcn-n that celestial body, and if diamonds and gold were discovered on it And if she had no other rea-sons for her claims, she would say, "we have looked on it for so Jong." But Shoedanviia. the king of Zulaland, was not willing that the British should have their own way for he knew that this would end his rule and bring ruin to his people, and so he ■went to war with Engi-.nd. ' England was worsted in this war. Their army, after having received several defeat , was finally surrounded by the Zulus and would have been annihilated, had not the Boers interfered. Gen-eral Lewis Mover wa; sent from Pretoria with 5,000 Boers to aid the English. He siu.eeded in breaking through the lines, of IO THE MERCURY the Zulu- and relieved the English army. As soon as the Eng-lish gem al realized that he was no longer m danger, lie took matters into his own. hards and invited the Zulu king to visit the British camp under a flag of truce and make tei as soon as lie arrived lie was arrested and e> :>f peace; but on a small island off the western ooast of Africa. England thought that this would end the triibe with the Zulus, but the son of the exiled ruler proclaimed himself king and made preparations to continue the war, but England had enough, and secretly with-drew her arm}' into. Natal. The English Government was chagrined by this defeat at the hands of a savage nation, and the loss of men and money, with-out any corresponding gain of territory, consequently she de-cided to steal the Orange Free State and part of Transvaal. But the Boer Government watched them closely and made pre-parations to meet the invasion. In 18S1 the English army marched into Boer territory, but they were entrapped by an army of Boers numbering 600 men, who defeated the British army of 7,000 men. They killed about half of them and cap-tured the others. When Gladstone, the premier of England, received news of the battle, he said: "I can,not send soldiers to South Africa as fast as the Boers kill them. We ought to make peace with those people who know how to fight for their rights and liberty." A term of trust was agreed upon during which time hostilities should cease, and President Krueger was invit-ed to come to London to make definite terms of peace. Accord-ingly, in 1883, President Krueger, .Taubert, Dr. Reitz and mv-self, went to London where we were treated witli the greatest re-spect by the English. Oom Paul was regarded as a hero With the help of Mr Gladstone, a man of honor, who was friendly toward the Boers, a treaty was signed which favored the Boers. The Tinted States had already recognized the South African Republics as independent governments. In this treaty, Eng-land did likewise, and soon many other powers followed. We went on our way'rejoicing. First to Holland and from there to Germany, where Bismarck gave a dinner in honor of Krueger and hi;-, party. It was on this occasion that Bismarck said: "Krueger is the greatest statesman living, for he got the best of that political fox, Gladstone, and England will dig the grave of her wprld's power in South Africa."- THE MERCURY II The treatj' made in London in 1884 would probably never bave been broken, had not gold been discovered in Jobannsburg, Transvaal during the same year; and if Gladstone., Bismarck and James Blam had lived in 1899, the war would not have broken out. When it became known in England that plenty of gold could be found at Johannsburg. the English people at once began to flock thcTe. Cecil Rhodes, a heartless man without conscience, was one of the first arrivals, who at once made prep-arations to mine the gold. He realized that it would not do to bluff Krueger as he had done before, therefore, he began to treat with Krueger and .he Government in Pretoria. He offered to organize a company to dig the gold and give a certain percent-age to the Boer Government. This company was organized, and it was agreed that the Boer Government should receive 25 per cent, of all the gold mined. All went well for a time; but in the year 1891 the English capitalists began to complain about this percentage, claiming that it was too high. Cecil Rhodes, Barno Banato and Alfred Beit, as the heads of the company, forced the working people to strik.v This strike broke out in 1894 and was at once put down by the Government. In order to lower the wages of the working-men, the company brought in prisoners to work in the mines, but the Government would not allow them to remain. After this failure, the. company imported coolies from Japan, China and India, but these the Government also sent away. Then the company bought control of many Eng-lish newspapers and the newspapers of other countries and these papers slandered the Boers as being opposed to prosperity and progress. Joe Chamberlain, Secretary of the Colonies in Lon-don, now took up the matter and commanded the Boers to per-mit the importation of foreign laborers, and, furthermore, to give all British subjects the right to vote and to hold office. The Government was willing to grant this privilege providing these subjects should swear allegiance to the Transvaal Republic. This the British refused to do. Cecil Rhodes and his friends hired Dr. Jamison and a civil engineer from the United States to organize a mob, invade Jo-hannsburg and take the mines from the Boers; and if possible, to overthrow the Government in Pretoria. The two men organ-ized a mob of 3,000 men who marched up from Capetown and openly boasted that they would soon have the Boers under con- 12 THE MERCURY trol. But the Boers made preparations to meet the mob and were ready to interfere when the time came. Jamison and his men came on toward Johannsburg and expected to arrive there in the evening; hut 'he Boers intercepted them and made an at-tack about nine miles from Johannsburi;. Jamison and his men after a short fight, were captured and taken to Johannsburg. Dr. Jamison and nineteen other leaders were taken to Pretoria and there imprisoned, -while the remainder were condemned to be shot for high treason. The British Government claimed to have no knowledge of the matter, but declared that they would punish these men, if the Boers would turn them over to them. President Krueger obeyed their request and handed over the captives. They were taken to London, given a mock trial, sen-tenced to six months imprisonment, but were soon afterwards pardoned by the Queen. Chamberlain and Rhodes determined to bring on a war be-tween the two nations and, therefore, troops were constantly being brought into cur country. When we inquired as to the meaning of this, we were put off or received no answer at all. It was a kind of "cat and mouse" philosophy wdiich England wished to practice on the Boers; England being the cat and the Boers the mouse. England said, "I am a cat and am satisfied, while you ought to be willing to become a part of a cat." "Come," she said, "let me devour you that you may become a part of a cat as so many other mice have done before." But the Boers failed to see the wisdom of this kind of philosophy and refused the invitation to be eaten. m THE MERCURY , 13 WHAT THE TURKEY DID. ■ A Christmas Story. H. A. CHAMBERLIU, '08. KTHUK CLARKS01SF ceased his labors and, buried in thought, rested for a moment leaning upon his axe. Truly his life was a hard one. .Why should he be compelled to remain here on this farm to cut wood while his companions were enjoying themselves with their friends and relatives at their respective homes? When his chums had all left college he had turned sorrow-fully away and had gone slowly out to the nearby farm where he was to work during the Christmas vacation to pay his college expenses for the ensuing term. It is true he had found a pleas-ant place. Mr. Northwood, the farmer, and his wife had been very kind to him. He had also found Gladys, their only daugh-ter, a girl of seventeen, very interesting and friendly during the long evenings when he had rested before the open fire-place in the comfortable sitting room. But with all this—it was not his home. Often he had felt lonesome. But with that determination which had characterized his col-lege course and had won for him the latin prize in his Freshman year, he went to work again with renewed vigor. Higher and higher grew his pile of kindling wood—fewer and fewer became the number of pine blocks. Suddenly his attention was at-tracted to a figure coming slowly clown the walk which lead to the woodshed. It was Gladys. "I thought I'd come to watch you work a little," she said. "We have been so busy in the kitchen getting ready for Christmas." He would much rather have stopped his work and talked to her but he kept on plying the axe. She continued to chatter and he endeavored to listen as best he could, but it was hard to work and talk at the same time. All at once without the slightest warning the axe slipped, cut-ting a long gash in Irs hand. He felt a sharp pain but did-not cry out. He looked at the girl who had become deathly white. With a little cry she Ihrew up her hands and fell senseless upon the carpet of chips which covered the ground. He carried her tenderly to the house almost forgetting the ac- H THE MERCURY ciclent, which had caused her insensibility, in his efforts to bring her back to consciousness. Mrs. Northwood, at first, in her excitement did not know what to do. After a little work, however, Gladys opened her eyes, and the flow of biood from his hand had been stopped. That evening as they sat before the fire discussing the events of the day, Mrs. Northwood said: "Gladys, why don't you ever wear-that ring which your uncle sent you from Mexico ? The stone alone must be worth fifty dol-lars. I am afraid yon do not appreciate the gift." A bewildered look came over the girl's fa-^e and she exclaimed : "1 was wearing that ring this afternoon when I fainted." Mrs. ISTorthwood shot a sudden glance at Arthur which he did not fail to notice, but said nothing. They then separated for the night. The next morning as Arthur was about to begin his usual work in the shed, the old farmer came out to him with a stern expression on his face. "You need not woi-k any more for me," ho said slowly. "Gladys could hardly have lost the ring for we have all searched every-where for it, and you were the only one with her at the time she was unconscious. I will keep the affair quiet but you must go today. Go back to your college and try to learn that a college education consists of more than that which we get from the books." "Why"— Clarkson began but was checked by the farmer:— "No explanations are necessary, sir—go." Clarkson climbed the stairs to the little room they had given him and gathered together the few articles of clothing which he had brought with him. If he had ever been sad before he was doubly so now. A shadow fell across the floor. He looked up and saw Gladys standing in the doorway— her eyes red with crying. •'•'Oh, Mr. Clarkson,"' she began, "I am so sorry. I know that you would not take the ring but my mother—" With this she threw her apron over her head, and, in a flood of tears, left the room. As he went back to college where he must now spend a miser-able Christmas alone, h? bemoaned his fate. His good name bad been ruined. His tuition could not be paid. He was a vie- THE MERCURY 15 tim of circumstances. And yet she had said that he was inno-cent— that was one consolation. The next day he sauntered up to the postoffiee to see if he would receive a letter from home. Sure enough, the postmas-ter handed it through the bars, hut as he looked at it he noticed that the address was m a strange hand. He opened it and read: "My dear Mr. Clarkson:— Come out to the farm at once. I was too hasty You are innocent. Yours • very sincerely, Jacob Northwood." The note was very brief, but how it thrilled the heart of the youth. He lost no lime in getting to the farm where Gladys met him at the gate and said: "Oh. Mr. Clarkson, we have found the ring. When we killed the Christmas turkey we found it in its craw. The selfish old gobbler- had picked it up from the place where I must have lost it. Come into the house." It is not necessary to' relate all the pleasant things which fol-lowed. There was no more wood cutting and—such a Christ-inas! The Xorthwoods tried in every way to make amends for the wrong they had done him. AVhen he returned to college a week later he was the happiest boy to arrive, for he had not only had a delightful time, and found new friends, but best of all in his coat pocket was a cheque on Mr. aSTorthwood's account which would more than pay the expenses of the term. 16 THE MERCURY THREE GREAT PHILOSOPHERS. Plato—Part I. CHARLES W. HEATHCOTE, '05. LATO was born in Athens about 42' B C. He was the son of Aristo and Perictione, a noble family. His mother traced kinship to Solon, the great legislate-of Athens, and Solon was a desce. dant of Noleus the i?on of Poseidon. Aristo, his father, was a descendant of Codrns the last great Athenian king, and he traced kinship to the god Poseidon Tradition claims that the god Apollo especially foless-id fti.p marriage of Aristo and Perictione and endowed Plato with special divine qualities. At an early age he received instruction • rom alle teacher Dionysius taught him literature; Ariston, the Argiane,.,gym-nastics and Megillus of Arigentamj music. With the other youths he took part in the Pythian and Is hmian games. He also, probably, took part in the military expeditions to Tanagra, Corinth and Del him. ♦ In his youth he was actively engaged in writing poems. He look part in many literary contests and reveaied much power and ability. He was about to enter a contest with a poem upon which he had worked faithfully and careful'y, when he became acquainted with Socrates. He destroyed hi' poem and most of his other poetical writings. However, some fragments have come down to us and they reveal beauty, thought and simplicity in style. From the time he met Socrates, he began to devote ail of his time to philosophy Plato was a student. He was acquainted with the past history of Greece and the sy terns of the earlier philosophers. His poetic nature and temperament revolted against the course and flippant reasonings of many of the phi-losophers of his day. They sounded as it were the minor chord entirely in their reasonings and to this the nature of Plato re-fused to respond. Thu.-:, when he understood the teachings of Socrates and the truths he taught, it seemed as if he had touch-ed the inajoi chord, tha: beautiful melodious bell-like tone, in his heart, for at once his whole nature became attuned to the THK MERCURY 17 1 ruths of Socrates and Plato bee;■1 me his enthusiastic and power-ful disciple. Plato was.about twenty years of age w'jen ne came under 1 he influence of Socrates. He was yet in hie creative process of life. His master's power over him was absolute. Since Socrates' work was noble, inspiring and uplifting, he was able to make Plato a mighty power for good in the world. Plato remained faithful and true to his old teacher and mas-ter, lie was a true disciple. He followed his teacher through his varied caieer and after his death which had been inflicted by '.he Athenian people he became the leader oC the Socratic school •md taught and promulgated anew the immcital Socratic truth. His truth was ideal. Sometime after Socrates' death Plato went to Egypt and made himself acquainted with the religious thought of that land.Trad-i tion says that he also went to Persia, and the^e he was taught the Zorathushtrian doctrines. But this cannot oe definitely deter-mined. He also visited Italy and studied the organization of the Pythagorean schools. Plato very likely visited Euclid at Megara, as Megara was not very far from Athens. How much influence Euclid had over P'ato in the formation and the deeper '.evelopment of his philosophic system can not be definitely 1 nown On his return to Athens he was threatened with punishment and even death. He stood firm in his determination to carry nit his master's work and would not be swerved from his course. Plato look 1-0 active part in governmental affairs. He was not ?n orator. ' He had returned to Athens to open a philosophic school. He opened his academy in the grove of Aeschemus. Over the great philosophic sehoo! he presided until his death. There with his pupils he analyzed and developed the germs of ethics, psychology and logic as found in the Socratij teachings. It is said that Plato made several voyages to Sicily in the in-terests of his academy. ■ At the invitation of Dionysius, the Svracusan ruler, Plato discussed with him on the subjects of happiness, virtue, government and justice. Plutarch (610) rays, "Justice was the next topic; and when Plato asserted the happiness of the just, and the wretched condition of the unjust, 'he tyrant was stung: and being unable to answer his arguments, i8 THE MERCURY he expressed his resentment against those>uo seemed to listen -o him with pleasure. At last he was extremely exasperated, r.nd asked the philosopher what business he hsd rrr Sicily. Plato answered, 'that he came to seek an honest man.' 'And so, then/ replied the tyrant, 'it seems that you have lost your labor/' Dionysius had resolved to slay Plato but through the plead-ing of Piato's friends his life was spared and he was sold into flavery to the Aeginetans. He was finally ransomed and re-turned to his academy. When D-'onysius the younger ascended the throne Plato again visited Sicily, but he was unable to accomplish anything. Of Plato's family less is known then of Socrates' Ye: y likely ne was married although it is not known to whom. Neither ran he be called an ascetic as some writers of recent times have been accustomed to call him. A man of hi, social, intellectual and moral position could not live an ascetic life and do the work he did. Thus it has been mentioned that his power as a writer was revealed in his early youth. It was evidently in the prime of ' ife that he established his academy at Athms. It was there ".hat he was busily engaged in teaching philosophy and writing •:nd rewriting his lectures and "there at the ripe age of eighty-pne he died." Marshall rays, "Prom the scene of his labors bis philosophy las ever since been known as the Academic philosophy. Unlike .'Socrates, he was not content to leave only -i memory of himself and his conversations. Re was unwearied in bis reduction and correction of his written dialogues, altering them here and there both iu c;.; ression and in structure. It is impossible, there-fore, to be absolutely certain as to the historical order of compo-sition 01 publication among his numerous dialogues, but a cer-tain np proximate order may be fixed." A very large number of works have been attributed to Plato. Some ha -c ' een proved spurious Most historians of philosophy accept thi ivy-six compositions as written by Plato'. Most au-thors aeocy the works of P.'ato as follows: Charmides; Lvsis• Laches; Ion; Meno; Euthyphro; Apology; Crito; Phaedo; Pro-tagoras, ihithydemus; Cral.lus; Gorgias; Hippias Alcibiades: TIUC MKKCUKY 19 Meneseus; Symposinus; Phaedrus; The Republic; Timaeus; Philebus; Parinenides; Theoetetus and The Laws. Acccrdirg to TJeberueg (104), "Schleiermacher divides the-works into three groups. Elementary, mediatory or prepara-tory and constructive dialogues. As Plato's first composition he names the Phaderus; as his latest writings, the Republic. Li-malus, and the Laws." In all bis waitings the poetic nature and style predominates. Although he is a waiter of urose, he is a poet at heart. Some-one ha-5 called him, "the Shakespeare of Gre k philosophy on ac-count of hif fertility, variety, humor, imagination and poetic grace. The philosophy of Plato is the philosophy of Socrates. This philosophical reasoning is prevalent throughout Plato's works. His thoughts and principles are built upon a Socratic basis. As Plato analyzes the deep thoughts of Socrates, he, here and there, adds a finishing touch and makes it more complete. It must not bo thought that Plato was a mere imitator, he was to) great a genius for that. Plato had been trained in the true Soc aric school of hard reasoning ana logical thinking. His kn Avlcdge of philosophy in the largest sense was marvelous. His knocedge of the various systems of the wo-ld gave him power to produce a careful and logical system, of reasoning with the Socratic truths as basic philosophical principles. Zeller says, "In Plato's scientific method also, we recognize the deepeinng, the purification and the progress of the Socratic philosophy. Prom the principles of conceptual knowledge arises, as its inunediate consequence, that dialectic of which Socrates must bi considered the author. While Socrates in forming con-cepts, stiV.es from the contingencies of the given case, and never ■ goes b3.T!id the particular, Plato requires by continued analysis from the phenomenon to the idea, from particular ideas to the highest and most universal.' The Socratic form of discussion 111 the character and manner of the dialogue is prominent in Plato's writings. If there is an idea that Plato desires to have understood and- made clear, it is brought out in his writings by the manner if speech. Though in some places his logic may be distributed, yet taken on the whole it is not the case. He sets forth his philosophy with 20 THE MERCURY (.learner and in a scientific way. The dialogue enabled his readers to grasp his ideas more readily. There is another striking characteristic in his dialogues; that is, Sociites is the central figure. He not on;y xeads in the con-versation, , 'le best listener, but he is also the most acute reasoner and thinker. Though Plato in some instanc s may represent an idealized Socrates, nevertheless be remembers how great a debt of gratitude he owes his master. From Socrates he received his spiritual and tbeistic beliefs. In th'i Banquet by Plato (M. Ed. T. 81) we quote the follow-ing pan; of a dialogue in which Socrates is discussing with Agathon Jhe philosophical conception of Love. "Come," said SocratT-., 'let us review your concessions. Is Love anything else th:n die love first of something; and secondly, of those things of which it has need?"—"Nothing."—"Now, remember x-f these things jrou said in your discourse, thai Love was the love —if you wish I will remind \ou. I think you said something of this kin.i, 'hat all the affairs of the gods were admirably disposed through the love of the things which are beautiful for there was no love of ^hings deformed, did you not say so?"—"I confess that I did."—'You said th.pt what was most likely to be true, my frLnd: and if the matter be so, the lovs of beauty must be one thing, and the love of deformity another. '■—"Certainly." So eo'n],rehensive is Plalo's philosophical system that much is emh-ived in it. To divide it into distinct divisions is diffi-cult. KIP philosophical system may be divided into three parts: logic, physics and ethics. Whe., the dialogues are examined carefully it is found though the though! may seem to relaps too much in the following state-ments, nevertheless, every thought looks up to the idea that Plato wishes to unfold. There is no confusion. One idea explains another idea, one thought leads up to another thought and so on in true progressive and logical order. THE MERCURY THE BELLS. JOSEPH ARNOLD, '09. 21 "How soft the music of those village b'-Jie Falling at intervals upon the ear., In cadence tweet, now dying all away. Now pealing loud again and louder Btill Clear and sonorous as the gale comes on." —C'owper. Soft and SAveet, indeed, are the'tones as they set the calm quiet air on a Sunday morning vibrating. What a charm the strains of a familiar hymn have, as they reach the ear from some distant church! ' And yet the chimes and bells with all their pleasant memories of childhood days lingeringly attached to them, with all their melodious sweetness, have an interesting history. Almost at the very beginning of things, a certain Tubal Cain, sixth descendant from Adam, an artificer in all kinds of metals, probably discovered the sonorous qualities of metals. He may have manufactured some crude instrument, which, when struck gave forth a ringing sound These crude beginnings gradually were improved upon; for, in Exodus, we learn that bells of gold were attached to the robe of Aaron in order that his going in and coming out of the place of worship might "be made known to the people. Zechariah introduces us to another improvement; namely, the inscription, "HOLINESS UNTO THE LORD," upon the bells of the horses. Not only did, in those early times, the Children of Israel make use of the bells, hut also the Egyp-tians, Assyrians and Chaldeans. Those used by the Egyptians were as a means of announcing the feast of Osiris. In offering sacrifices the priests of Cyble of Assyria made use of the bells. So on down through the ages we come across the development of bells, some of gold and others of bronze. About bells were associated many superstitions, as records show us. Pliny and Juvenal, it is said, tell us of bells being rung during eclipses, which were, as it was believed, attended by evil spirits. The ringing of the bells would, according to their beliefs, drive these away. The belief can easily be evidenced 21 THE MERCURY by inscriptions upon the bells as follows: "Pesiem fugo" and "Dissipo veutos." During the early Christian era a number of such brief inscriptions were put into poetical form and became the common inscription upon bells. Laudo Deum verum, plebum voco, conjugu clerum Defunclus ploro, pesiem fugo, festa decoro. Funero pilango, fulgura frango, Sabaia pango Excito lentoSj dissipo ventos, paco crucntos." Bells, even at a very early period, were put to a practical pur-, pose, as may be gathered from the following records left by Aes-chylus and Euripedes: Greek warriors were accustomed to wear small bells-upon their shields so that they might when on guard duty inform the passing captain that they were awake. Even Plutarch is said to have mentioned in his record of the seige of Xanthus the fact that bells were attached to nets stretched acre-the river so that natives could not escape by way of the river without coming into contact with the bells thus attached. Thus far small bells only were referred to, since the large ones were not. in use for worship or alarm or to strike the hour, till some 400 A. D. The use of bells for churches doubtless gave rise to that feature of architecture, the bell tower. In the Middle Ages, bells played a prominent part. During that period whenever a bell was cast, before it was used in a church, it went through a form of consecration; for it was wash-ed with water, annoiuted with oil, and marked with the sign of the cross in the name of the Trinity, and, from what we can gather, archbishops officiated and persons of high rank, with great pomp, attended the ceremony of christening. As time went on nearly every form of worship had its bell. There was the Sanctus bell, tho Angelus or Ave Marie bell, the Vesper bell, the Complin bell, and the Passing bell. The Sanctus bell of today is a small bell and it is rung before the elevating of the Host by the priest. During the Middle Ages, this was a large bell and rung just when the "Sancte, sancte, sanete Deum Sab-baoth" was sung or chanted. All who heard bowed their heads in reverence and adoration. The Angelus was rung at fixed hours and called the mind from worldly duties toward a mo-ment's meditation and the blessed Virgin. It further marked THE MEKCURY 23 the time of beginning and cessation of labor. There still lingers with ns a sweet echo, as it were, of that beautiful 'custom in the famous painting, "The Angelus." The artist seems to have caught the charm and in the moment of God-given inspiration placed upon canvas the halo of bygone days. The Yesper bell was the call to evening prayer and the Complin bell closed the clay. Finally the most impressive was the solemn tolling of the Passing bell; it called for the prayers of the faithful in behalf of the passing of a soul from life. A little of the spirit of the Middle Ages still clings to us; for we still adhere to some of the customs of those times. The toll-ing of the bell during the passing of a funeral in a "God's acre" comes directly from the custom of the Passing bell. One rite or ceremony peculiar to the Dark Ages was t. pe tolling of a bell to summon an audience in order that a priest might read in their hearing an anathema; to blow out in their presence the candle and in that manner excommunicate a poor unfortunate from "bell, book and candle." The use of the curfew is familiar to all. It was probably in-troduced into. England from France by William the Conqueror. Alarm bells were a,so used at an early date. Is it not Shakes-peare who makes Macbeth say when Birnam wood was moving on the castle in which he had shut himself, "Eing the alarm bell!" ? Of course, in modern times, since the discovery of electricity, the use of bells for alarm has become more or less systematized. The composition of material which enters into bell making can readily be gathered from various sources. There are in the world some very large bells, marvelous and unique, arousing much wonder and creating great interest. It may be that the longing for display was accountable for sucli huge sizes. May we not likewise infer that their immensity in the eyes of the ignorant and semi-civilized made them more meritorious? Thus Russia, mostly in a state of semi-civiliza-tion, is noted for the largest bells. The large bell which espe-cially attracts universal attention is the "King of Bells," the hell of Moscow. Hs history may be read at a glance from one of the inscr (ions upon it. namelv ip- 24 THE MERCURY . This Bell :, was cast in 1733 by order of the Imperial Empress Anne, Daughter of John It was in the earth 103 years and by the will of the ■ r .: Imperial Emperor ^ Nicholas "' "'-■: :. was raised upon this pedestal in 1835, August 4th. It is not necessary here to enter into details concerning its history; the number of times it was recast, its enormous weight or colossal size or the stir it created among the nobility of Eu-rope. Sufficient to say, that it excells and stands alone. There is another very large bell of which mention should be made namely, the Assumption bell of Moscow, next in weight to the "King of Bells." Although it weighs one hundred and ten tons and its diameter is eighteen feet, it is hung and tolled once a year. A writer says, "When it sounds, a deep hollow murmur vibrates all over Moscow, like the fullest tones of a vast organ or the rolling of distant thunder/' One bell, though not a large one, is nevertheless dear to the heart of every loyal American. That bell announced to the peo-ple that the Declaration of Independence was signed; that free-dom was theirs. It bears the name of "Liberty Bell;" a name •deserved and a name *hat will last as long as time itself. Though iits life as a bell is but a brief one, there arfc gathered about it miemories saored to us. It still, as its inscription reads, "Pro-claims liberty throughout the land." Thus ends the stoiy of the bell imperfectly and briefly told ,ind yet let us not forget to mention the important part it plays in poetry. First upon the bells as we find them may be found couplets which run ns follows:— ■ »k and, also. "Jesus fulfil with thy good grace All that we beckon to this place." "I to the church the living call And to the grave do summon all." THE MERCURY "Be mec and loly To heare the word of God." 25 There are possibly as many quaint inscriptions on bells, as upon tombstones but space does not permit mentioning them. Most of the poets make mention of bells in connection with services. Longfellow says the Angelus called the Arcadian fanner from his work. Shiller in his remarkable "Lay of the Bell," portrays the life of a mortal. How clearly he associates the storms and calms of life in the tale of a belFs making. And who can, in such melodious rythmical splendor compare with Edgar Allen Poe, as he depicts the functions of the bells in that masterpiece of his? How it thrills one to hear that poem re-cited! One can almost hear the merry jingling of the sleigh bells o'er the icy fields, or the mellow wedding bell foretelling a world of happiness, or the banging and clanging of the loud alarm bells, or e'en the solemn tolling from the lips of the sombre iron bells of luckless destiny. What a world of thought is cre-ated in the reading of a poem such as that! How it carries us back, yea back to the days gone by! How we hear faintly the bells, sweetly echoing in our hearts some happy occurrence, or like a voice from heaven bringing us in close touch with a dear one gone before. Thus bells have played an important part in life from times immemorable to the present day. 26 THE MERCURY DO WE NEED POSTAL SAVINGS BANKS IN THIS COUNTRY? BY 1908. AST summer wtu'le spending some time in a rural dis-trict of a neighboring state, an instance of particular interest came to my notice. One day a resident of the small I village came into the postoffice and had a money order for a certain amount made out in his own name. The postmaster, being of an inquisitive nature, asked the man why it should be in his own name. The man said he didn't want to have the money in the house; that lie didn't have time to take it to the bank (for the nearest one was fifteen miles away); that it would cost him just as much to send it to the bank as to get a money order for it, besides the trouble of sending it: and that it would he safer in the hands of the Government than if it were in the bank. An instance of this nature to a person of ordinary intelligence would he very striking. Thoughts of the advantages of some people and the disadvantages of others naturally arise. This man evidently was'not in a position to enjoy the great privilege of. men in other districts of having a hank in which to deposit his money. Xext we would likely wonder how many men were in a similar circumstance hut who did not invest their money in money orders, having it hoarded up somewhere as cold cash. There are, no doubt, so great a number of them, even though their amounts of possession being small, that a vast sum of money is being held, hound up and kept from circulation. The man's last remark as to thfe safety of his money in the form of a money order, brings the fact to our notice that banks do not have the confidence of the people in general that the Government evidently has, for this man was willing to pay the Government to keep his money instead of receiving interest for the use of if from a bank. few people will deny that our present system of banks is a success considered in all its phases. But is it the best system that can be had? Does it efficiently meet all that is demanded of it? We think not. The present financial condition of our country leads us to this conclusion. The fact that banks in their present condition are subject to failure thereby causing the THE MERCURY .27 loss of the wealth of their depositors oftentimes inspires, more especially the small depositor, with fear and shatters all confi-dence in them. As a consequence great amounts are hoarded up in strong chests and other places and are practically a drag to the progress of our country where free circulation of money is such a necessary function in prosperity. The money strin-gency which necessitated the recent issue of Government bonds was largely due to the inadequacy of our banking institutions to supply the need. Ours is a country of gre"at natural wealth, so vast, indeed, in extent, that we can hardly get a definite conception of it. Though we are making rapid strides in developing these re-sources, we have not reached the greatest degree of efficiency. There are vast tracts of land that could be more efficiently cul-tivated; mines to be developed; products to be transported; and many other directions for progress, but no means of bettering this state of affairs. Why have we not reached the highest, de-gree of efficiency? This question is easily• answered by saying that the circulation of money is too small. Thus we see the great need of getting all money possible into circulation. Since there is such a great need for the circulation of all the money in the United States, we need to consider reasons why this circulation is hindered. Probably the most striking of these reasons is the lack of confidence that some people have in our banks. Circulation is not hindered by the lack of confi-dence of our people alone. There are vast numbers of foreigners in our country who. doubting the stability of our banks, and having explicit confidence in their own government banks, send their earnings home and deposit them there. In this way great sums of money are kept from circulating in our land and for this reason some industries must suffer because of being unable to secure sufficient funds for their-further development. The issue of bonds recently made shows the great need of money for circulation and, above all things, shows that the money will most likely he obtained from the-people who are afraid of investing money in other enterprises, but, because of their confidence in the Government, are willing to take her bonds at a lower rate of interest than could be gotten otherwise. We have been considering the fact that there are conditions in our country which are not as they should be for its better de- 28 THE ME.RCURY velopment and prosperity. To set forth these deficiencies with-out suggesting a means of correction would be foolish exertion. Anything that will right these conditions we may regard as the very thing needed by our country. Our suggestion for the cure of these conditions is a system of postal savings banks. Such a system would reach all conditions of people as the banking places would be the postoffices and postoffices are found scattered everywhere in the states. Then the great amount of money that is hoarded up, because there is no bank near enough, would be put.into circulation. Then tun, very many of our citi-zens who now hide their earnings and the foreign element who send their money abroad for deposit in their own government banks, because of their confidence in an institution with govern-ment backing, and not in our banks as they now are, would de-posit in the postal banks and thus by increasing the circulation of currency, help to remedy existing conditions. One with a different idea might wonder what would become oi our present banking institutions which are run by individuals who necessarily reap the benefits not only of their own money, hut also that of the Government which they get at a low rate of interest. He might ask, Shall we harm a fairly well working system for one that we only imagine Avould work? That a sys-tem of postal savings banks would harm our other banks is not likely, for it would obtain greater amounts of money for distri-bution to these banks at a lower rate of interest. With this view of the matter, the private banks would themselves be benefitted as Avell as the country at large. Then as to the working of the proposed banks we have no serious doubts. They are working-well in other countries and could easily be successful here. But someone may object; think of the great expense ami trouble the Government would have to undergo. It is true there would be some expense and labor connected with the en-terprise but the benefits derived would be so much'greater in proportion to the money formerly expended as most clearly to justify such a course. If our manufacturers today would re-fuse to increase their business because of more cost to them, we would have a pitiable state of affairs existing. Industries would be at a standstill. But they do not conduct business on this principle. They make a great sacrifice of monev and labor to THE MERCURY 29 a certain degree and in return make a greater proportional amount of gain. It is therefore an easy matter to see that the system would pay for itself and that is all we demand of it, since it is a gen-eral public undertaking and is not supposed to be run in order to make money. It would be for the welfare of the individual citizens of our nation. The idea of labor is no argument against it. We may rather consider it as a point in its favor. The extra labor would furnish excellent, well salaried positions for a great number of people. That there is need of some way of keeping the currency of our Government in circulation is very evident. The present pros-perity and welfare of our country demand it. If the present demands it, the same will be true of the future, only then the demand will be more intense. To meet this increasing demand necessitates, some system that will reach the portions of the country in which money is hoarded; that will have the confi-dence of the public in its favor. Our present system of banks has been, and is doing a great deal towards a free circulation of money yet they are proving insufficient. A system of postal savings banks, as we have shown, would meet the above named requirements; would furnish greater circulation of money; and would therefore add very materially to our progress as a nation. T H E ERCQRV Entered at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class Matter. VOL. XV GETTYSBURG, PA., DECEMBER 1907 No. 7 Editor-in-Chief EDMUND L. MANGES, .'08 Exchange. Editor ROBERT W. MICHAEL, '08 Business Manager HENRY M. BOWER, '08 Ass't Bus. Managers LESLIE L. TAYLOR, '09 CHARLES L. KOPP, '09 Assistant Editor MARKLEY C. ALBRIGHT, '08 Associate Editors PAUL F. BLOOMHARDT, '09 E. E. SNYDER, '09 Advisory Board PROF. J. A. HIMES, LITT.D PROP. G. D. STAHLEY, M.D. PROP. J. W. RICHARD, D.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. EDITORIALS. GEN. DE WALI_'S It is with a great ARTICLE deal of pleasure that we present this number of the MHUCURY to its readers par-ticularly because of its article on the Boers. Some few years ago, when war broke out between these people and the English, we all read of the movements and ac-tions that took place in the Tran-svaal and Orange Free State with great interest. The war from beginning to end is doubt- THE MERCURY 31 less familiar to 11s, but we know very little of the Boer history prim- to this time. This article' gives us a very distinct and clear cut epitome of that earlier period. A thing that lends a peculiar interest'to this article is the fact that it was written by one of the most prominent men of the people with whom it deals, so that we get the facts first hand, it is needless to waste time or space in telling those of our read-ers who met General Dc Wall about his personal experience or service, but it may be of some interest to those who did not have the extreme pleasure of seeing or hearing him. Fifteen years in German schools and universities, a period before the war as pres-ident of the Volksraat or Congress of the Transvaal Eepublic, and during the war as a general in the Boer army, are three major items of his life. We have been rather fortunate this fall in having the privilege of coming in contact with a number of distinguished men, but most striking, most unique among them all stands Gen. l)e Wall. .He is a very extraordinary type of man. a type that is very sel-dom 'found. In this man we see one who has had the great privilege of a liberal education; one who has been successful in life, having at one time been a wealthy man and holding a posi-tion in South Africa second only to that of the distinguished and well known Oom Paul Krueger; one who experienced war in all its phases; one who has suffered as few men have and sur-vived, having lost wealth, position and family, and is now even an exile because he lefused to swear allegiance to the country that deprived him of wealth and family, all that was dear to him. He did not come to us'in state, but as a very common, man, yet the impression that he made upon us is one that will last longer for that very reason. Is it any wonder that a man of such a' varied experience both in quantity and quality is interesting? Although he has been a child of fortune and has known the extremes of joy and sorrow, he has come through them safely, with principles and faith in his God unshaken. We again say that we consider ourselves fortunate in having this interesting and instructive article to give to our readers, not because of the worth of the article alone, but because of its distinguished author. 32 THE MERCURY LITERARY It is with a feeling of pleasure that we write CONTEST. concerning the coming Inter-society Contest. We are pleased to announce that, after a lapse of two years, the two Literary Societies have settled their petty disagreements and have agreed to meet in a general literary contest and de-bate. The contest and debate were formerly leading features of the winter term; but in -recent years, as before stated, have not been held for various reasons. And now, inasmuch as all preliminary arrangements have been made and the contest is practically as-sured, it is our earnest wish that the.members of the societies realize the importance of the coming conflict. The individual members of both societies must know that without their interest the contest can not be a complete success. And, besides, honor, glory and renown, in no small measure, will be meted out to the participants, both th-5 victors and the vanquished. The contest and debate are bound to be interesting, and may the fickle Goddess of Victory smile upon the side best deserving her favors. j* I am a little country boy, I flunk ten times a week. But I guess few students know it, Cause for Muffing I'm a freak. It tickle? me to go to shows, But only when they're cheap. And when the Seniors turn me down, Then, Oh, how I do weep. I love to ride brown ]3onics, And wobble when I walk. I say I take the girls to shows, And I slobber when I talk. -Exchange. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. THE BEST PEN FOR COLLEGE MEN There's no pen that gives such all-round satisfaction as 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 If train of thought It's different with Filler J. A. Kupp, L. E. Entei line. THE "R & E" STORE 36 Baltimore Street, Next Citizens' Trust Company, GETTYSBURG, PA. SUNDAY SCHOOL LESSON HELPS AND SUPPLIES, P. ANSTADT & SONS, Publishers, Book and Job Printing of all Kinds UJrUe for Prices. YOR K. PA, PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS EMIL ZOTHE COLk^!EM3 ENGRAVER, DESIGNER, AND MANUFACTURING JEWELER 722 Chestnut St., Phila. SPECIALTIES : MASONIC MARKS, SOCIETY BADGES, COLLEGE BUTTONS, PINS, SCARF PINS, STICK PINS ANO ATHLETIC PRIZES. All Goods ordered through G. F. Kieffer, CHARLES S. MUMRER. UEJ1L.EU JJV TpTTTS TSTTTTTT? 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