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Edward C. Boyle ; The Weber and Davis County Communities Oral History Collection include interviews of citizens from several different walks of life. These interviews were conducted by Stewart Library personnel, WeberState University faculty and students, and other members of the community. The histories cover various topics and chronicle the personal everyday life experiences and other recollections regarding the history of the Weber and Davis County areas. ; 68p.; 29cm.; 2 bound transcripts; 4 file folders. 1 video disc: digital; 4 3/4 in. ; Oral History Program Edward C. Boyle Interviewed by Rebecca Ory Hernandez 9 November 2011 18 November 2011 Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah Edward C. Boyle Interviewed by Rebecca Ory Hernandez 9 November 2011 18 November 2011 Copyright © 2012 by Weber State University, Stewart Library Mission Statement The Oral History Program of the Stewart Library was created to preserve the institutional history of Weber State University and the Davis, Ogden and Weber County communities. By conducting carefully researched, recorded, and transcribed interviews, the Oral History Program creates archival oral histories intended for the widest possible use. Interviews are conducted with the goal of eliciting from each participant a full and accurate account of events. The interviews are transcribed, edited for accuracy and clarity, and reviewed by the interviewees (as available), who are encouraged to augment or correct their spoken words. The reviewed and corrected transcripts are indexed, printed, and bound with photographs and illustrative materials as available. Archival copies are placed in the University Archives. The Stewart Library also houses the original recording so researchers can gain a sense of the interviewee's voice and intonations. Project Description The Weber and Davis County Communities Oral History Collection includes interviews of citizens from several different walks of life. These interviews were conducted by Stewart Library personnel, Weber State University faculty and students, and other members of the community. The histories date back to the early settlement of North Ogden, and cover various topics including the History of Fort Buenaventura, city government affairs, controversial issues, Latinos in Ogden, personal everyday life experiences and other recollections regarding the history of the Weber and Davis County areas. ____________________________________ Oral history is a method of collecting historical information through recorded interviews between a narrator with firsthand knowledge of historically significant events and a well-informed interviewer, with the goal of preserving substantive additions to the historical record. Because it is primary material, oral history is not intended to present the final, verified, or complete narrative of events. It is a spoken account. It reflects personal opinion offered by the interviewee in response to questioning, and as such it is partisan, deeply involved, and irreplaceable. ____________________________________ Rights Management University Archives All literary rights in the manuscript, including the right to publish, are reserved to the Stewart Library of Weber State University. No part of the manuscript may be published without the written permission of the University Librarian. Requests for permission to publish should be addressed to the Administration Office, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, Utah, 84408. The request should include identification of the specific item and identification of the user. It is recommended that this oral history be cited as follows: Edward C. Boyle, an oral history by Rebecca Ory Hernandez, 9 November 2011 and 18 November 2011, WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, University Archives, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. iii Edward Boyle Roswell, New Mexico 1943 Edward Boyle New York, 1984 1 Abstract: The following is an oral history interview with Edward C. (Ted) Boyle (b. 1922). The interview was conducted by Rebecca Ory Hernandez, on November 9, 2011. In this interview Ted speaks of his early life growing up and attending school in Ogden, Utah and later attending Weber State University. The interview also highlights his life after graduating from Weber State University and going on to graduate school at the Thunderbird School of Management. Ted also talks about his career in international banking with Citibank, traveling the world and working as a bank executive. Ted is retired and now lives in St. George, Utah with his wife Hazel. ROH: I'm going to state the date and where we are. Today is November 8, 2011. We're in the home of Ted and Hazel Boyle in St. George, Utah. We are here conducting an oral history. I'll just start by asking you to repeat your name and where and when you were born. EB: My name is Edward Conrad Boyle, commonly known as Ted Boyle. I was born in Ogden, Utah, August the tenth, 1922 in the Thomas D. Dee Hospital in Ogden, Utah. I picked up the nickname of Ted Boyle when I was a youngster which came from my Uncle Albert. He used to call me Theodore Roosevelt and Ted stuck with me all my life. I was socially known as Ted Boyle. ROH: You were born in Ogden. Where did you grow up? EB: I grew up in Ogden, Utah on the east side of Ogden, which at that time was at the outskirts of the city. It was at 1470 26th Street which was between Taylor and Polk Avenue and was an area which was basically low income people on the 2 north side of the street and people of means on the south side of the street. Our house was very small by today's standards—two bedrooms, one bathroom, a small kitchen, a dining room, a living room, and a small lot. My brother and sister and I and my mother and my father only had two bedrooms. So my brother and I slept in the unheated basement of our home in unfinished bedrooms with my mother's washing machine between us. My sister had one bedroom and my father and mother had the other bedroom. It had no garage in as much as my father never owned a car. He was one of the very few in Ogden who didn't have a car. My original concept of this house was that it was purely acceptable for us during those trying times which would be the Depression era of 1920s and 1930s. We got along as we could and stayed out of each other's way. My father who was a furniture salesman with Boyle Furniture Company in Ogden would actually walk two miles through all kinds of weather to save a five cent bus fare. Without a car we all depended on friends to get around to social activities. My mother had to walk three to four blocks and bring back her groceries. I remember that very distinctly. At the tender age of six, seven, and eight years old, I was unaware of the differences in the economic status of people on the block. As I grew older I learned to understand that we were on the wrong side of the track as far as the economic aspect of it. It didn't really bother me that we grew up near the poverty line. My father was a good provider. My mother was a wonderful cook. We ate the staples, cornmeal and mush in the morning and things of that nature. We had an icebox, a small cubicle to eat in 3 and I got by. I learned to accept what we had. I had one pair of shoes and one suit. I learned early in my life that I was not conventional in the sense that I had no feel for solving mechanical problems. I couldn't do anything but maybe change a light bulb. That carried through my whole life as my wife knows very well. I was just not like that. I was not allowed to have a house pet. All my friends had dogs but my father adamantly said no dogs. So I grew up in the neighborhood by adopting dogs in the area. My earliest recollections of my schooling in elementary school were at Polk School, which was a block away from our house. It was a very modern school of that time. There were eight grades and it was very convenient. However, during the heavy winter storms that we had in Ogden in those days, we had snow days where I couldn't even get to school because the snow was piled up so high. ROH: How did you get school? EB: We would try and get through these snow drifts but we were basically snowed in. We used to build snow igloos in my front yard. In my early days at Polk School I was a very average student. I thought I had a knack for numbers but when it came to social studies, math, and others, I had trouble. The teachers at that time—our principal was named Florence Brown. If we got out of order then, at that time, we were called in the office and she took out a ruler and hit us on the butt. Today, you know what would happen. But we accepted that. Our parents accepted that if Johnny was out of order he would pay the price. My earliest contact with the female species was in the third grade when we had all the boys 4 sitting on one side of the room and the girls on the other with a phonograph record playing dance music. The teachers would pair us off and we'd go out and try to dance with each other. It was a very strange feeling. Among those girls was Rosanne Peery. She was in the same class I was. I had no skills of any sort. We had a shop organization where we went down in the basement of the school and made wooden things. By hook and crook I made a sewing cabinet for my mother and had it shellacked and it was a pride and joy for me. As I walked up to my house I stopped at the neighbors place and his Labrador retriever went over and did his thing on my sewing cabinet. I was devastated. It didn't matter when I took it home to my mother. She said, "Oh, that's fine." I think that really must have been the only thing I ever created. ROH: How old do you think you were? EB: I was probably about ten years old I guess. In the school I was not physically adept towards contact sports which bothered me enormously because we were always rough housing and I was afraid to get in the middle of it. So I became a finesser, trying to find a sport where I didn't have the contact. I developed a very fine arm. I used to throw stones and I developed a very strong pitching arm, so I became successful in softball and things like that. Going back on Polk School— my late brother (who was five years older) at one time, on the third floor, opened a window and got a hold of the ropes on the flag pole and swung out one hundred feet off the ground before hitting the ground. That was the beginning of my brother being an ultimate dare devil. He was afraid of nothing. My dad loved Sundays as it was his only day off. He was not a church man. He would go out 5 and tend his garden which included all kinds of fruit trees. Then in the afternoon he would go down on the bus to the Orpheum Theater and see a movie, then come back home with a bag of popcorn for the family. My mother of course was in church. I was encouraged at that time to go to church on Sunday. ROH: What church did your family go to? EB: It was the LDS church at 26th and Jackson. At that time it was a six block walk for my mother in all kinds of weather. Our bishop was David Romney. I had a group of friends while growing up and among them was Jennings Olson. Jennings was a person whose handicap was a club foot. We all tried to put that out of our minds when we were playing baseball and things. Jennings was always full of vim and vigor. One thing I remember about him was that he did not like carbonated drinks. He always had to have something non-carbonated. I remember that he read voraciously. His father was a very good medical doctor in Ogden. His mother was a dear but rather homespun. We formed cliques. We had what we called the 26th Street Gang which was the street we lived on. We had about six or seven of us that used to play football in the street and then we'd go skating over bumps and things like that. It became the center of activity. We all grew up to bond. Those people in my early ages were the people that stood with me through the ages and today are still my best friends. It was a phenomenon that we all had the same interests and it was a matter of getting along without any money. We created our own fun outside of the theaters. For instance, on Saturday I would go down to my dad's office at Boyle Furniture and I'd say, "Dad, I want to go to the movie." So he'd give me twenty five cents. That twenty five 6 cents covered my bus fare down and back from the Paramount Theater, a bag of popcorn and I would sit in the front row as close as I could get for these cowboy movies because it was thought at that time, the closer you were to the action, the better off. I'd get out of there and I'd be blurry eyed. I couldn't see for five minutes when I got out of the theater. One thing that I do remember very vividly was Christmas. In Ogden, in the thirties, there were several department stores including the Emporium and Lowe's where they had Christmas displays with electric trains and everything like that. I used to spend hours looking at these various things and hoping against hope that we would be able to get something of that note. Christmas night my brother, my sister and I would go to bed early hoping that Santa Claus would get down the chimney. We had a chimney. I never did understand how he was going to get down through there. My mother put out the cookies with milk and we'd go to bed early and get up at four o'clock in the morning to sneak up the stairs and look and see what Santa Claus had brought. Quite often it was a bowl of hard candy and an orange, a piece of clothing and an inexpensive game. We kept hoping for a train set but we made the best we could. We survived. I became aligned with my closest friends that I loved. About the church— my mother was a devout Mormon. She would have been in the bishopric if they had allowed women. My father was a non-believer, a great man but did not actively participate. I was obliged by my mother every Sunday to go to church with my friends. We diligently went in and passed the sacrament and obeyed what we thought were the laws of the church until such time when I think I was 7 about sixteen or seventeen. The bishop came down the aisle and got me by the arm and said, "Ted. I think it's time for you to go on a mission." That shocked me. I think I just said, not negatively, but that I was not really interested at that time. My truest friends—all of them followed the same line of reckoning, so I wondered at this time, what was it? Was it peer pressure? We all had the same idea at that time that we were not going on missions. It was etched in stone. After we graduated from Polk School, I went to Central High School down at 26th Street and Monroe. Believe it or not, those two years are negative. I have nothing really factual that I can remember of any note. In other words they passed by me without any real essence of any happenings at all except the music instructor there said, "Ted, you've got a wonderful voice. You should go out and use that voice." I remembered that. So off we went to High School at dear old Ogden High School on 28th and Harrison. We were the third class and that's when I really grew up. It was a new atmosphere. The ambiance, the people, the teachers, the location all struck me as being something super. I guess you could say I was a jokester all my life and I got by with my wits. In other words, I was always cracking jokes and breaking up people. I became very popular and joined the social clubs there. I knew quite a few people. But I do remember something, this was pre-war, they had ROTC. It was officer's training school. We were obliged to go out on the campus and parade around for an hour and then after that they selected officers from our group to lead. These were the power makers. This bothered me enormously. I was not selected. I was a private. All my friends were colonels, majors, captains, etc. I was obliged to walk through 8 the ranks as a private. I thought, "Well, this may be my life. Maybe I'm not going to make anything out of it." But I did make some very good connections there. I loved the people there. Our actual basketball team were the state champions. We were honored in Salt Lake. We had, what I think Tom Brokaw would call the finest generation. I would consider that our class of 1940 was exceptional as far as the quality of the people and what they did and the environment we were living in. ROH: Can I ask you a question real quick? Tell me the names of some of your friends at Ogden High. Who were your best friends? EB: Jack Luddington, who I'll talk about incessantly. Jack Dalton, Bill Hinds, Jennings Olson, Richard Stine, Parry Thomas. Here's something that you want to wire in. Parry Thomas and I were very close and Parry Thomas probably was the leader of the pack, as far as what happened to the graduates. Parry became president of a prestigious bank in Las Vegas. He became a very big factor in banking in Las Vegas. Bob Bishoff who was president of I think the Commercial Security Bank and Maurice Richards, a prominent attorney. It was a time when Ogden was at its apex as far as producing people of culture with the ability to move on. One thing I noted that in our parking lot there were probably five or six cars of people that owned cars. You go by today and there's hundreds of them out there which is an indication of time and change. I still, at that time, had no real love connections. I think a lot had depended upon that my family had no car so I depended a lot on double dating and taking girls out like that. I had a lot of very close female friends but nothing serious at 9 all. I would go to the prom by myself and my friends would put my name down and I'd dance with their female partners. ROH: Did you call that stag? We always call that stag when you went by yourself. EB: Yeah, I went stag. I enjoyed the dance with other people's partners. I was awe stricken by the campus. It was so beautiful in 1940. It was constructed for less than one million dollars and one of the advisors to building was Meryl McClanahan whose son was Richard, a classmate of mine. After we graduated many people went their different ways and I went home and I said, "Where do I go from here?" I knew we had very limited means. I had no money myself. My dad couldn't afford anything. So Dad scratched up enough money for tuition for Weber Junior College. Quite a few of the students there were on short hook as far as money. The money class went to Utah or BYU. We arrived down on the campus of Weber College and it was very, very small in relationship to what I had pictured. The student body and my class were something like 180 people. We were in a war by that time so that meant that there were very few people around. I thought while I was there that I still wanted to be a forest ranger because of my likes of being outside, hunting and fishing at the cost of the government, and so that was my theory. I wanted to graduate from Weber College and then go on to Utah State where they had a forestry school. I became involved with the Excelsior Club, which was the premier social club. I made lots of friends. I think my personality lent itself to making friends. I was like a loose cannon. I always felt like I had to make light of anything and I think that was a big hit down there. 10 I became very close to [Henry] Aldous Dixon who was president of the College. His son, John Dixon, became Director of the University of Utah Medical Center. I made new friends. I found at that time that Ogden had a history of being a Mormon town. In other words, if you were Catholic, you were on the wrong side of the track. I had wanted to date a girl who was a Catholic. My mother found out about it and she had a fit. She was very down to earth and strong in her beliefs of the LDS Church. ROH: Did you have any friends who were African American? EB: Here we go. In the student body there was one black. His name was Willy Thomas and he was a huge, black, muscular athlete from Kansas. He was an outstanding track man and basketball player. He ran the hundred meter dash. I became very close to him out on track. I ran the track there, the mile run. I would joke with him and he would sometimes take it as offensive and then he'd say, "After I thought about you Ted." I was chuckling to myself. I became very close to him. Another example was Wat Misaka who was of Japanese origin and an excellent basketball player. He has been honored nationally. I became very close to him. At that early stage in my life it became apparent that I had no racial problems. I had made my point there at Weber College and found that later on in life, that's what often led on to what I did and where I went. Anyway, I took fond memories from Weber College. I thought that the beauty of that college at that time was the smallest of the class, the informalities, the attention from the seniors as to coming in to classrooms and talking to you. You felt like it was a family operation, totally family. It was a wonderful thing. 11 Aldous Dixon lived on campus in a small house right there. Later on when I went in to the war—my family would tell him what I was doing over there and he would write to my family and say Ted was going to be okay. I also liked the small classes at Weber. We had a lot of help from a very professional teaching staff. As an aside, I purchased an expensive oil painting of Farrell Collett who was once the head of the art department at Weber College. ROH: Nice. EB: Anyway, I always imagined myself as being an athlete. I had a very strong arm and I could throw the football farther than anybody on the football team but I was so fragile that I knew that once I was hit I was down. So I never did participate in football or basketball. But I was on the tennis team at Weber College. By the way, while I was in high school I was city champion in several contests there and I would ride down on my bicycle to Liberty Park, and I would have one racket with maybe a string broken. In one case, a prominent citizen would come up in his convertible in white shorts with a racket and the contrast was startling. I had a tremendous forehand but no backhand so I would always attack from my forehand and try and cover up my backhand. I was fairly successful because when I was younger I used to pound the back of our house constantly with a ball. That's where I developed my forehand and the serve was tremendous. But my backhand did not exist so I lived by playing around that. It was one of those things. As we progress along, the war was coming closer and closer so a group of us, after graduation from Weber College, decided to go to Utah State. Five of us 12 went to Logan and moved into in a house near the campus. We managed to survive. I joined the Sigma Alpha Epsilon fraternity, which was a premier club. I was very comfortable on the campus. Then my dearest friend Jack Luddington, who I mentioned before, had been taking pilot training out at the old Ogden Airport, and he said, "Ted, things are closing in. The Air Force is having a meeting in Ogden for possible applicants to join the Air Force. Do you want to go along with me?" I said, "I don't know." Then he talked me into it. I said, "Yeah, we'll get drafted if we don't." So we went in there for the physical, I think I weighed 138 pounds. The Army Air Force medical guy said, "You don't qualify. You're too thin. But I want you in here. Go home and eat about three pounds of bananas and come back tomorrow. See if we can fudge you in there." Low and behold I gained a pound or two and he said, "You're in." My friend Luddington, who was not a genius either, as far as his ability to score well on tests, was the last one out of the class. He sat down and I said, "Come on Luddington." He finally made it and we both joined the Air Force and left Salt Lake City on the train for Santa Ana, California. We arrived and there were 20,000 cadets at our base. We were separated after we took the tests to find out what our abilities were. He was assigned as a potential pilot and I was assigned as a potential bombardier. So after we graduated from the base in Santa Ana I was assigned to Roswell, New Mexico which was a bombardier school. Jack went in to pilot training on the California coast. I arrived in Roswell and found that we were dealing with the Norden bomb sight which was highly prized by the German Air Force as being something they 13 would like to have in their power. So, while we were in training, we always had to carry a .45 revolver and treat the bomb sight as a most valuable item. We would practice bomb day and night. We were expected to drop the bomb in a five hundred foot circle from five miles high. The blue practice bombs had ninety-eight pounds of sand and two pounds of spotting powder. The Air Force kept washing out cadets. I would call my mother and say, "I'm still in here but the ranks are thinning." When I finished, I got a short leave to go home to Ogden and I showed off my wings. Then I was assigned to Hondo, Texas for navigational training. Hondo wasn't too far from Austin, Texas, where my Aunt Clara lived with her billionaire husband. She invited me to go up there on the weekends. She let me sleep late and she fed me well and I was in seventh heaven. After we were through with Hondo, we got our orders to form our strategic bomb group in Salt Lake City, at Kearns Army Base. I thought it was nice to be back near home for a few days. Our plane crew was made up of crewmen, pilot, copilot, bombardier, navigator, and six gunners. We named our plane 'Lassie and Her Lads' because we had a gorgeous spray painting of Betty Grable wearing a swim suit on the tail. We were a composite group of the Midwest and far West. We trained in Dyersburg, Tennessee. Then we moved on to West Palm Beach Florida for our final training. From there we got orders to go to Trinidad, West Indies. We flew by ourselves. The landing strip was in the jungle and we were in there overnight. The next day we took off for Belem, Brazil. We flew over the Brazilian forest for ten hours and I said to the navigator, "If we go down in 14 there, we're done for. They'll never find us." From an overnight in Belem we flew to Fortaleza, Brazil, which is on the tip of Brazil. The next stage was thirteen hours flying over the Atlantic Ocean. We took off at night. We were flying a thousand feet over the waves in order to save on fuel. I was in the nose, as usual, and we encountered St. Elmo's fire, which was an electrical discharge carried to our guns. I thought we were being fired on. It was phenomenal to see. We arrived in Dakar, Senegal in North Africa. That was an eye-opener. As we landed, a multitude of Senegalese warriors came out with guns and top hats and surrounded our plane in order to protect it. They put us in canvas tents and as we relaxed, the Senegalese came through with their spray guns for malaria and they sang as they went through and sprayed us. Our next stop was Marrakech, Morocco situated high in the Atlas Mountains of North Africa. We went into town to visit the markets and old French restaurants. Towards the evening we decided to visit the French Foreign Legion outpost in Marrakech. We asked the commander if we could watch their parade in the evening and he said we would be their guests of honor. That night we froze to death and slept in our plane. The next morning we got orders to go to Tunis, North Africa. We flew across the Sahara and landed at a deserted German Luftwafee air base that was used during the Montgomery and Rommel desert war. We visited the ancient aqueducts there and marveled at how they had been built. We also visited the ruins of various German Luftwafee planes and we were warned not to take anything because everything was booby trapped. 15 We received our combat orders and flew from Tunis to Foggia, Italy and landed at a deserted air field that had been occupied by the German Luftwafee. We went to our canvas tent and proceeded to locate the mess hall. We thought the food was not very tasteful, so we bartered our provisions for local products such as fresh eggs. Our group was the 463rd bombardment group commanded by Colonel Frank Kurtz, who went back in history to the invasion of the Philippines by the Japanese. His airfield was attacked by Japanese bombers and several of the American B-17 bombers were split in half. They put one piece of a bomber into another and called it the Swoose—half swan, half goose. Colonel Kurtz was the chief pilot of that plane, which is presently being restored in the United States. We got settled into our base and our first mission was what we called a 'milk run.' That was to indoctrinate one without fear of major casualties. As the bombing missions progressed, they became more deadly and losses mounted. Then it became one of marking down. You had to make fifty missions as related to a loss of three to four percent of the planes each time we went out. As the missions increased in intensity, we finally came to a mission where the target was Ploesti, Romania. For the Germans, the Ploesti oil fields were a source of oil for their entire military operation. It was heavily guarded by flak guns and F-190s and ME-109s. They were the elites of the German Air Force. When we found out we were going to Ploesti, everyone sighed, had their breakfast, went out to put in their bomb load, and proceeded to taxi out to the runway. 16 By the way, the air fields were metal strips, not cement, and the B-17 loaded with 6,000 pounds of bombs, 2700 gallons of high-octane gasoline, does not get off the ground very quickly. At the end of the runway there was a fence. I was in the nose of the plane and remarked to the navigator, "This plane's not going fast enough to get off the ground." Finally we cleared it by about a hundred yards and went up into our formation at 15,000 feet. Over the Adriatic Sea, everyone discharged their machine guns to make sure they were firing. Then we went over the Yugoslavian Alps. The Yugoslavians were not allies at that time and they had flak guns mounted on top of the mountains. They shot at us, but weren't very effective as they didn't have advanced radar. We flew into our target area and our escort fighters, which were P-38s and P-47s peeled off because they were short of fuel and headed back to their base. They left us unescorted as we approached the target area. There were three or four hundred planes forming a line at what was called, the 'initial point.' This enabled German aircraft guns to zero in on our direction and altitude. I took command of the plane, flying it as we approached the target area. As we neared the target area we saw a huge black cloud box where all the German flak guns were concentrated. I saw planes going through that box and going down on fire and we knew we were next. It was very trying and tested ones fortitutde to the maximum. As we approached closer to the target, I cranked in the airspeed, the velocity, the wind, and other data into the bomb sight. The two indices cross and you know you're on target. I'm watching carefully and finally the indices cross 17 and I say, "Bombs away." The bombs are released and we turn away with planes on fire on both sides of us. As we left the target, if any of the planes in our formation had an engine out and they trailed the pack, they were attacked incessantly. You had to keep a tight diamond formation with seven planes, which also gave you more firing power against the enemy. So as we came away from the target and headed back, we were still alive. Then we started talking about if we had enough fuel to get home. As we neared the Adriatic coast, we started planning whether we were going to make it or whether we were going to ditch. We'd all had training as far as what to do. We finally arrived in the vicinity of the airfield and landed. We were interrogated and had our hot chocolates and donuts and tried to unwind. In another mission, we lost all of our commanding officers and crew in a mid-air collision caused by cloud coverage. In another occasion after takeoff to return to base, we had instructions that the mission was aborted. Our chief pilot, who was later a noted neurologist from Boise, Idaho, turned to our copilot and said, "Why don't you handle this landing." We turned towards the runway and I noted there was a crosswind and the copilot wasn't factoring that in. As we approached the runway, I said, "We're in trouble." We hit on the left landing gear and bounced about fifty feet up in the air and came down with the engines chopping up the runway—with 6,000 pounds of bombs and 2,700 gallons of fuel. I said, "I'm dead." We slid for about five hundred yards and the minute we stopped I yelled for everyone to get out and I ran for about a half a mile and dropped down and covered my head. For some time the rescue crew wouldn't 18 get near the plane to deactivate the bomb load. I don't know why that plane didn't explode. [photo included] ROH: Let's pick up where we left off with World War II. You had survived a crash landing. You said it took a long time before anyone would go near it. EB: Gas was pouring out over the engines and the bombs were banging against each other. We stayed away for a long time and then the emergency crew hosed it down to cool it off. ROH: Did they send you on vacation after that? EB: No, the policy was that you could fly twenty-five missions and then you could take a week off and go to the Isle of Capri near Naples to unwind. My theory was that I wanted to get out of there as fast as possible so I didn't take the vacations. I flew my missions because I wanted to get back to the States. The B-17s flew between twenty and twenty-seven thousand feet. It was thirty degrees below zero—freezing. Non-pressurized cabins. Ice formed down the face of your gear. No relief tubes. We had flak suits on and our parachutes hooked on one side, then we had a helmet. It made it very hard for us to move around. On another mission, we had a misfire in the bomb bay as two bombs had banged together and did not detach. The pilot said, "Boyle, get back there and release those bombs before they blow up." In the B-17, between the front part of the plane, the bomb bay, and the back, was a rail and two supports. As I walked over it, I was looking down at the Mediterranean from 25,000 feet and holding on to a rail with one hand. I was trying to release the catch for the bomb that was 19 swinging against the plane. I managed to unhook the bomb and made a silent prayer as I returned to the nose of the plane. It was a terrible thing to fly eight hours on total oxygen at very low temperatures. It was bitterly cold. After a mission, the Red Cross would be there waiting for us with donuts and hot chocolate, then we'd be interviewed about the mission immediately. As the missions went on, I would write letters. I have over a hundred letters that I wrote to my mother that she kept. I began to wonder if I was going to make it or not. On my fiftieth mission I was flying with another Utahn, Clyde Hart, and he knew it was my fiftieth mission. When we landed, I got out of the plane and kissed the ground. Before that, on a raid over northern Italy, we had some terrible problems from damage to the plane. I managed to get the bombs on target and two weeks later I was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross. After my fiftieth mission, I said, "I've done it!" We got ready to depart and the fifteenth Air Force came out with a memorandum saying, "Unfortunately, we have a shortage of flight crews, so you can have thirty days' leave in the United States, then come back and serve another fifty missions." I wrote to my mother and said that was a death sentence, I would never come back. Fortunately, they reversed that. I left Naples on a troop ship on July 26. We were in the upper part of the boat and on the decks they had thousands of people who were fleeing France and Italy. They had no place to sleep, so they slept on the deck. We were in a convoy surrounded by destroyers, but we had reports of submarines in the 20 area, so we were dropping death charges. That was scary. We arrived in New York. I took a train from New York to my home in Ogden. My first few nights in my family home, I would wake up screaming. I hadn't unwound yet. I would try to find ways and means of winding down. After resting at home, we were sent to a camp in Santa Monica to continue to decompress. My combat days were over, thank the Lord. I was assigned to San Antonio Air Base, and then I spent a series of time moving from one air base to another. I kept in mind that I might be called to duty again. I applied for pilot training in the Air Force and I was accepted. I was assigned to Thunderbird Field in Phoenix, Arizona. The field was also occupied by Chinese cadets who thought nothing of flying into you or on top of you because they had no reason for flying etiquette. In that area of Arizona, there are always hot air drafts. After I had gotten to the point where I was flying solo, I was landing the plane and unbeknownst to me, the pocket of hot air was pushing the plane up and I didn't compensate for that factor. I pancaked and spun around on the landing strip. Thankfully, I wasn't hurt. Immediately I went on a flight check. The instructor, a pilot named Carl Thigpen said, "Ted, you're a good pilot, it's unfortunate you've painted yourself into a corner." They washed me out of the program. I eventually ended up in Denver, Colorado where I was released from the Army-Air Force. ROH: Did your older brother serve as well? EB: No, he had a medical problem. He was a dare-devil—totally different than I am. He parachuted out of a plane in Ogden in 1934 at the age of seventeen. It was a 21 high school bet with his friends. The owner of the airport told him he had to have his father's permission, so Billy called our dad and said, "Dad, I'm going to jump out of a plane, you have to give permission." We sat on the front porch and watched this biplane circling up and then a parachute drop. He became a champion ski jumper in the 1930s. He became an expert on Ecker Hill which was adjacent to Park City. It was a humungous, steep hill, and it attracted a bevy of Norwegian ski jumpers. They formed a cartel and would have jumping contests. My dad and I would go to watch my brother jump. He did exceptionally well at that. After that, he went to California and raced cars. He had no fear at all. That was his life. Later, he became a dreamer. He got into real estate and everything was going to be a million dollars. He was an alcoholic. He became an advisor in Santa Monica for a bevy of movie stars and famous people who would call him at two o'clock in the morning, "Billy, I got a problem." He never quite made it financially. He was always engrossed and saying, "I just got to get this guy to sign this and then I've got it made." It was always touch-and-go with Billy. We were very different. ROH: Did he write to you while you were gone? EB: I've got a ton of letters. Hazel and I are always wondering about who's going to give a hoot about these letters after we're gone. Billy was a great personality. He could walk into a place and immediately have people around him. He eventually ended up in a nursing home in Santa Monica and Hazel and I would go diligently and take him milkshakes and candy bars. The next day he would say that people 22 had stolen them from him. I said to Hazel, "Now that I've seen this in my brother, when it comes time for me, I'm heading for the hills with a Pepsi." It taught me a lesson in assisted living. He was my protector when I was young. My sister was a beauty queen from the get go. She did modeling in Salt Lake City and she was a prom queen. She married well—Ed Haas who was one of the producers of "The Munsters." She traveled in high style in Santa Monica with him. We had the same experience with her in assisted living that we had with my brother. ROH: So none of you worked in the Boyle furniture store? EB: This is fun. I thought from day one that I was going to be selling furniture for the rest of my life. I worked in Boyles as a delivery boy and not withstanding my frail structure, they put me on a delivery truck to haul stoves to second floor premises. Then I handled the store elevator covering three stories which didn't have an automatic stop. During the Christmas season we'd have a pile of customers on the third floor and I'd try to judge where the first floor was and end up sliding clear to the bottom and have to go back up again. HB: You'd better start telling her what happened to change your life. EB: I haven't got that far yet. Anyways, after I got out of the war, I was twenty-three and I was looking for companionship. I had bought a car during the war for my family, who had never had one. I met a girl and we had a relationship. Her name was Gloria and her dad was the music instructor at Weber College. Things were progressing. I was an avid skier and we were in Snow Basin and I told her she 23 needed to learn to ski faster and she went down and fell and broke her leg. Things went from bad to worse after that. Another day, I was at Snow Basin skiing by myself. I was the last man on the hill. The ski patrol had gone and I wanted to do one more run. On the way down, I fell and spun around and stopped near where the gate was. I got up and decided I was okay, so I was going to do another run. Remember, there was nobody on the hill. I got on the ski lift and about half way up, my left knee started to hurt so bad I couldn't stand it. I rolled off the lift at the top. It was dark. I zigzagged my way down the hill, sitting down all the way. It took me an hour to get down. I went to the doctor and found out I'd blown all the tendons in my knee. I had my knee in a cast and I was the house boy at the Pi Phi house in Salt Lake. I was living in the basement with about thirty Pi Phi's as residents; one of them being my sister. I got all the dirt about what had happened on dates—the girls would sit at the kitchen table talking about their dates as if I didn't exist. One day a group of young men in the lounge were talking about the Thunderbird school in Glendale, Arizona. I thought, "Wow. That sounds good." So I made an application to enroll. I was accepted—I still had my leg in a cast. I set out for Phoenix by myself in the winter with my left leg in a cast. I got near Cedar City and it was black ice and I skidded off the road and tipped over in a ditch. This was 6:00 in the morning. I got out and hobbled down the road to an all-night café. There were several patrons in the bar who offered me a drink before they went out to put my car back on the road. I arrived to Thunderbird school and decided I wanted to live abroad and work for an international company. 24 I decided I needed to work on my command of the Spanish language. My friend and I traveled to a small university in Morelia, Mexico. We lived rather sparingly with a Mexican family. After studies in Spanish, it came time to go home. We had practically nothing in our pockets, so we boarded a bus to Guadalajara. There were more chickens than people on the bus. In Guadalajara, we had no money for a hotel, so we went to a flop house that had a hundred beds or so. Bill and I went in and paid and we agreed that one would sleep and the other would stay awake because someone might assault us if we were both asleep. We had to go third class on the train to Nogales, Mexico. That was a laugh because it was full of immigrants heading to the United States and they were all pretty liquored up. We had no money for food, so when the train would stop, we'd get a stock of bananas. We were on the train three days and all we ate was bananas. Close to the border, we got off the train. Bill left his U.S. passport on the seat and had it stolen. Going through customs in Nogales, Bill went to jail because he didn't have a passport. Then they put me in jail because my passport, when we'd gone into Mexico with friends, had been stamped that I had brought a car into the country. So I was put in jail until they called the owner of the car and verified that the car was in Mexico City. I don't remember how Bill got out of jail. That was a journey never to be forgotten. After we graduated from Thunderbird—the beauty of the school, is that the people who hire, came to campus. I was prepping to get a job with Sears Roebuck. A friend of mine had scheduled a meeting with a Citibank officer from New York. When Citibank found out my friend was married, they said no. My 25 friend said to me, "Ted, why don't you interview in my place?" I asked for an interview and the first question their man from New York—Gordon Bullock— asked was, "Why do you want to go to Latin America?" I said, "I have an uncle who runs the largest sugar cane factory in Puerto Rico and if you hire me, I think I can get the account." I made it up off the top of my head on the spot. [Laughter] I walked off to get ready for Sears Roebuck and a week later I got a telegram saying Citibank had accepted me. They had to write for references. Not far from me lived two very powerful lawyers, George Lowe and Roy Thatcher. They wrote letters to Citibank. Then I asked my dad, "Dad, I'm at a crossroads here. I don't know anything about Citibank." My dad said, "Ted, the only people who are important in Ogden are doctors, lawyers, and bankers. Go for it." I accepted Citibank and said goodbye to Ogden. I got on a train to New York and went to the YMCA with the other trainees. I stayed seven days in New York and they shipped me off to San Juan, Puerto Rico. San Juan was our training base for South America. The people there were very friendly, we practiced our Spanish, and we learned about banking—that including carrying the golf bag for the managers when they went golfing. My family came to see me. They had never been out of Ogden, Utah. My mother has a diary of everything that happened. She even wrote about my dad listening to the motors on the plane. We had a lovely time. I think that was the biggest thing to ever happen to them in their lives. As it came time to depart from San Juan, they told us, "You trainees have three choices, you can go to Havana, Cuba," which was pre-Castro, which was a 26 great place, "or you can go to Mexico City," which was number one, or Bogota, Colombia. I'd never heard of Bogota, Colombia. For some unknown reason, I chose Bogota. I arrived in Bogota at 8,600 feet in altitude. It rains about every other day. It's in the top of the Andes with ancient Indian culture all around it. I settled into an apartment with another trainee and we lived the buena vida—the good life. He was a football player from Ohio State named John Mack—a very joyful guy who would fit in any crowd. We played fifty-four holes of golf in one day. We had a great time. We dropped golf balls out of the windows to watch them bounce on cars and roll down the street. A friend who liked to drink went out and got locked up and couldn't find a way home. The police called the wife of the other man with him and asked if she wanted to come down and bail him out. She said, "Hell no. Leave him in there." She was furious. Anyway, we had a wonderful time. Our chief officers at the bank were Boice Nourse and Juan Sanchez, a Castilian from Spain. It was just idyllic. We would play Liars Dice at the Anglo- American club and whoever lost would pay for lunch. We'd play against the manager and he wasn't very good at concealing his thoughts, so we got a lot of free lunches. We used to have vacations—we would get three months off after every two years and they'd put us on the Grace Lines ships to go up to New York. I'd go back to home in Ogden and I'd bought a car—my original car was a 1942 Chrysler Sedan that I'd bought during the war, then I bought another that I think was a Ford. Back in Ogden, I reunited with my old friends but I felt like I was out of place with them. In the interim period, I was doing well in the bank and 27 learning about the theory of banking. Citibank was the world leader in international banking. We worked with governments and with major organzations and their subsidiaries. We were not oriented towards individual banking. We worked with big-ticket items. In one of my trips North, I met a young lady from New York City, who was on the cruise with her mother. We became involved and were engaged when I went back to Bogota. One day I was working on the bank platform in Bogota and this young woman walked in and stopped the music. She walked down that platform with her gorgeous black hair and I thought this was the girl of my life. I hadn't even met her. When she walked in, I just thought, "Where have you been all my life?" ROH: What year was that? EB: That was about 1951. We dated about eight months. The bank had a policy that you could not date employees and I was engaged. I had a dilemma. I talked to my general manager, Boice Nourse and he said, "Ted, we'll make an exception as long as you play the rules of the game." Hazel loved peach melbas, so I asked her out to get one with me. I kind of dallied around. Finally I went out to meet her parents and find out if they were willing to let her date me. To the very strict in Latin America, this is how you go about dating. When her father saw that we were getting serious, he wrote the State Department to find out if I was married. He was worried about the Mormon religion and if a polygamist might be after his daughter. 28 Hazel and I started dating and I was in seventh heaven. I couldn't believe it because of the age difference. But we dated and then I got really sick. We had an idiot bank doctor and I went to him and said I didn't feel good. He said, "Do you chew gum?" I said yes. He said, "Then stop chewing gum." Well, I got worse and I started turning yellow. Hazel got worried and I went to another doctor. He said I had Hepatitis and he wanted me in bed resting immediately. I was in bed for three months. All I can remember of the treatment was that I ate a lot of hard candy because the doctor wanted to build up the sugar in my body. I had written to my fiancé in New York and told her that things had changed. She showed up in Colombia. The bank was having a big party and I ended up with Hazel and my fiancé in the same room. I just about died. I said to myself, "What have I done to deserve this?" I managed to make it through the night. I made the break with my fiancé and she went back to New York. Hazel's dad came over all the time while I was sick. He taught me to play bridge and he spent a lot of time with me. I think he was trying to make sure that this thing was real. His name was Edward Pierce Roskruge. Let me interrupt here to say that Hazel's biological father was German who I think was connected with the Colombian Air Force. When the world war came, he was called to duty back in Germany. Then Edward Pierce Roskruge married Hazel's mother. He was a wonderful Englishman and always very correct. I fell in love with him right away. He was there when I needed him. Anyways, so I managed to get out of bed to get married. We had the wedding in her house with a Catholic priest. It went well but Hazel had an affinity 29 for dolls. She had a huge doll she loved that she wanted to take with her as we were packing for the airport. I said, "No way, you're not taking that doll on that plane." ROH: How old were you two when you got married? EB: That was 1952. I was thirty years old and Hazel was seventeen. Anyways, we got to Barranquilla, which is a seaport at the head of the Magdalena River. Hazel took to married life with vim and vigor. She learned how to cook. She was a wonderful hostess. People there loved her. She became very active in the American Woman's Society. At that time, we made a lot of friends in Barranquilla. They had an international golf tournament one year and one of the players was a young man named Arnold Palmer. We were privileged to meet him and have drinks with him. That was the beginning of his career. My mother and father came to Barranquilla to visit over Christmas and that was a real treat for them. At those times, I rode the city bus. We didn't have enough money to buy a car. At one point, we were in dire circumstances financially. Hazel's father had given her a very expensive bracelet with gold in it and unbeknownst to me, she went to a pawn shop and sold it. When I found out, we went back to get it but it was gone. It was tough in the early days, but it was a learning process. My supervisor was from Brooklyn and from the old school. He was very gruff. He and I had several personality clashes. He would say, "This is the way we're going to do it." But I had a feeling that my ideas were better. When we got to the point where we didn't get along, I would go take a walk around the block 30 and then come back and sit down. He knew what he was doing but he did it with the old style. He hadn't arrived into the twentieth century. Among the American counselors was a gentleman named Harry Shlaudeman, who was a vice council and a super golfer from Pasadena, California. Harry, through his career, became the right-hand man for Henry Kissinger in Washington. The head American council was an elderly Scotsman who loved golf. One morning we were alerted that he was missing. We looked for him for three days and eventually he showed up and said, "I just fell asleep." We really enjoyed life there. When it came time to start a family, I witnessed the birth of our first daughter, Sharon Elizabeth. Everyone said she was beautiful just like her mother. Our second daughter, Linda Kay, was born in Cali. We almost lost her but she survived. When it came time for us to move to Cali, Columbia, I had the title of Pro-Manager. It sounds better than it was. I had been a sub-accountant. ROH: Why did they call you a sub-accountant? EB: It was something to show that one was just starting a banking career. We got our orders to go to Cali, Colombia. Cali was a wonderful place and we settled into a very nice house and I became the second in command there. I eventually became manager of that branch, which was a big success. We were very prominent there. I was president of the American Men's Society and Hazel was president of the American Women's Society. ROH: Tell me a little about these societies. 31 EB: It was a consortium of Americans who were working abroad and assigned to Cali. It was similar to a Kiwanis Club. The Americans and some prominent Colombians worked together to promote service activities to the community. Cali was the a center for the production of sugar cane, which is a major source of income for the Colombian government. We also had many pharmaceuticals plants, Quaker Oats and other multi national companies. Political unrest and local violence were causes of concern. In one instance, we had gone to a cocktail party at the American councilor's home and when Hazel and I got back in the car, I said, "Oh, it's drafty." Then I realized someone had removed the entire front windshield of the car. After that we would go down to an automotive spare parts store and see our windshield and buy it back. It was petty thievery. Another thing was if you were driving in thick traffic and had your arm out the window thieves would take your watch off your wrist. Cali was in an earthquake fault zone. One night I heard this thunder like a train approaching the house. It was a tremendous noise and the house was shaking badly and shook for about two or three minutes. It was a major earthquake and there was a lot of property damage in Cali. The next day we had big cracks in the masonry of the house. We were very fortunate in the banking industry to deal with high class business houses and individuals. We also had banking relationships with the Colombian government. There were very little dealings with individuals. Kim, our third daughter was born in Cali. I never questioned the superb quality of medical facilities in Colombia. So, our third daughter arrived and I'd 32 send telegraphs to my mother and father, "I've got another queen in the family." The girls went to the American schools in Cali. All of my daughters had dual nationalities, Colombian-United States of American, until they were twenty one. They were brought up strictly by their mother in the Catholic Church. From Cali we were transferred to Medellin. People associate Medellin as the center of the narcotic industry in Colombia. At that time there were no problems with narcotic trade. The only political parties were liberals and conservatives. There was a fierce political battle which was a concern. We had problems with rioters in the street in Cali. We had to close the branch because people were being shot in the street. Castro arrived with Che Guevara in Bogota and from that sprung out these problems with peasants up in the mountains who were ill-prepared to make a decision. They entered the Colombian political system of 1949 in addition to the conservatives and the liberals. It was a problem if you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. There were instances when it was rather dicey to go certain places. An uprising would happen overnight and you would get caught unawares. But I do want to add that in Colombia, bull fighting was famous as it was in Spain. Bogota was very much connected to Spain. We still have films of bull fighting. My career was blossoming. I had been named manager of the branch, which was a major move. ROH: Can you give me an idea of the size of the branch? EB: I had over a hundred employees. The currency was pesos. When I arrived, the peso was at par with the dollar—if you had a peso, you had a dollar. When I left, 33 the peso was something like two cents to the dollar. It completely devalued. Much like what is happening in the United States right now, the government's economic policies were off-key. By the way, coffee represented a major portion of their exports and they lived off that, but they had almost every major natural resource but they lacked the funds to develop. They were passed by other world countries that didn't want to put money into Colombia at that time. So, the economics at times got out of balance at times. The Brazilian coffee was a lesser quality. The Colombian coffee was called "mam"; which meant "Medellin, Armenia, Manizales." That's the high grown coffee; the higher the area it grows the more valuable it is because it matures slower. Medellin was my next step. It was a larger area and more responsibility. It was the center of textiles for most of South America. Again, we were very favorably invited to join the community there. It was group of outstanding people we were associating with—both the Americans and Colombians. The manager of Citibank was on par with the American consul, as far as prominence, in any city we were in. So we were always on the top of the list as far as invitees for whatever might be going on. In Medellin, we had the fourth addition to our family. Sarah was born premature and it was almost a tragedy. The hospital there took such great care of her. There wasn't a minute when there wasn't a nurse there looking after her. That was our family. After our fourth daughter, I said, "That's it. I'm surrounded by women." But anyway, I think being in the international banking circle, you're dealing with people who are intelligent and sociable, usually the moneyed class. It was a 34 wonderful world. It encouraged you to step up and be a part of it. We dearly loved that. The one major incident when I took my life in hands was when I bought a car in Bogota. The individual had a late-model car for sale and I had to fly to Bogota to get it. My boss said, "What are you doing?" I said I was going to drive it back to Medellin. He said, "You're crazy." The road from Bogota to Medellin was undeveloped and had very few facilities. At that time, there were uprisings with the natives attacking buses, dragging people out and cutting their heads off. They called it "Corte de Franela." There were several massacres in that area. That was in the back of my mind, but I said I'd travel at night while they were asleep. So I left Bogota all by myself. I drove maybe seven or eight hours through areas where I saw nothing except a paved road. It was eerie and I kept thinking, "What am I doing?" I arrived in Medellin at about 5:00 in the morning. Hazel was thrilled that I made it. It was an idiotic thing for me to do. EB: Eventually, we sold that car and got a good price for it. Hazel was driving it about three days before we sold it and there was a truck parked with a piece of lumber sticking out of it. She went too close and the lumber went right through the front windshield and all the way back. She was okay. I went to the guy I sold it to and I was really upset. He said, "Don't worry. I can get a new one from Miami." We got a lot of letters from corporations saying thank you for the attention and help I'd given them as they got started in their business. I was on the board of directors of companies where we were involved in Medellin and Cali. They 35 wanted a local director with banking experience on their boards. They'd send the Chairman of the Board down to Colombia and I'd take him golfing. In Medellin, we were honored as a well-managed branch. I got letters saying that and that helped my career. I was a stickler for details and communication. ROH: Did you travel back to the states as part of your work? EB: No, we very seldom would go back to New York when we were in a foreign branch. Except when we were on furlough, I would normally spend a week or so in New York on my way to vacation. Hazel would take the children while I was in New York. I don't know how she did it—traveling with four young kids. She was a marvel. There was a group of expatriates in Medellin who ended up in Fort Lauderdale, Florida after their careers in Colombia ended. There seemed to be an exodus of American workers in Colombia going to Florida after. It had a Latin complex in Florida, and the weather was similar. After Medellin, I got a promotion and orders to go to San Salvador, Central America to be the manager of a huge branch there. They didn't have a house for us when we arrived, so we had the privilege of staying in a very high class hotel for about three months. That was a good life for Hazel. She didn't have to cook or anything like that. In El Salvador we had a problem with earthquakes. El Salvador lies right on a fault line. We had several earthquakes while we were there. Anyway, I was second in command at the branch in El Salvador. Our major clients there were coffee exporters, almost entirely. Then we also dealt with the Salvadorian government directly. We were on intimate terms with the president of El 36 Salvador. The ambassador to El Salvador was a gentleman from Phoenix, Arizona and his last name was Castro. He looked like a Mexican bandolero— black hair, moustache, had a gorgeous blond wife. He would call the American business leaders to a meeting on Wednesday and he wanted all the information he could get about what was happening so that he could report back to Washington. I was president of the American school there. We had Joe Borgatti, who was an innovative vice president. He did a lot of things of which nobody had ever heard. Nobody at CitiBank, at that time, had the privilege of having an airplane available to the chief officers. Joe said to them, "I'm in charge of Central America—Honduras, Guatemala, Nicaragua, Panama, and so forth. I want to get a plane." So we got a push-pull. It's a plane that has a propeller in the front and one in the back. One of the things I organized down there was a league of soccer teams. Citibank was the champion of the tournament. Two things while we were there. One was when President Lyndon B. Johnson was trying to form better relations with Latin America. They decided they were going to have a big meeting in San Salvador and invite the heads of state from Central American countries. Citibank was encouraged to be a part of this meeting. The Mexican embassy said that Johnson liked cuff links with coins from the country he was visiting, so I was assigned to get to the local jewelry store and get some coins that were delivered to him. We were part of the big entourage. We met the President and his wife and the two daughters. 37 The other thing that happened in San Salvador was the Chairman of our Board, George Moore, who was a genius in my estimation. He decided to come down with his wife, who was from a very prominent Mexican family. She was not very sociable. We decked out his room with flowers and when he walked in, he said, "Is this for my funeral?" He had all of the young, gung-ho businessmen in San Salvador come to the swimming pool at 6:00 in the morning and swim with him. Then he would have breakfast with them and talk about business. Hazel was in charge of a party for his wife. Hazel carried it off perfectly. The two big events were that we were going to take them around in our plane and show them Honduras. The plane was small and Mrs. Moore was rather large, so when we went to get on the plane, she said, "George, you think I'm going to get on that plane? Never." She walked off. We had to run around and get a commercial plane to take them. The crowning event was a party on an island resort owned by the coffee barons. I happened to be walking along the path and Mrs. Moore crossed in front of me and she wanted to sit down. I suggested she sit in a hammock. Well, she got in the hammock and it broke. She's on the ground and said, "Don't touch me." I said, "I'm going to get fired whatever I do." I didn't dare touch her. She rolled off and dusted herself off. One of our prominent clients was elderly but liked to fly. He flew his own plane over there, but the weather worsened. He insisted he was going to fly back to the air base. His son told him not to so he took off unbeknownst to them. He took off into the clouds and got lost. The Salvadorian air force had to find him and guide him down. 38 There was a war of sorts between Colombian and Honduras. They called it the "soccer war." They got very serious about soccer. I think the end result was a Honduran plane dropped a bomb in the ocean near a port city. There was no actual exchange, but there were a lot of words. The president of the country would ride around on a motorcycle; he was very flamboyant. He would come to our office like that. But the people we dealt with were delightful. Most had made their money exporting coffee. We carried a lot of memories out of that. A lot of our clients were from the moneyed class and they didn't want to deal with Salvadorians or Hondurans or Colombians for tax reasons, so they wanted to confide in us. We were an intermediary. ROH: How long were you in El Salvador? EB: Three years. I was the manager and we had about twelve officers reporting to me. ROH: Did you have the young rookie kids like you coming up through the ranks? EB: We had people who were doing what I was—coming up through the ranks just two steps behind me. We always had trainees or American staff. Then they decided that I needed to go back to the domestic side, so we packed up and ended up in Wilton, Connecticut. The agent who sold us the house was married to a man who was a Citibank manager. We had minimal funds to invest; I still was not making any money. But we let her take us around to see houses. This was 1965 or 1966. She asked how much money I had and I said I had about $46,000. So she started showing block houses to Hazel. Hazel didn't like them. Nora said she had another that might be available. It was a two-story colonial 39 home with two acres of woodland with an immaculate four bedrooms. It was everything you'd ever want. Hazel wanted it. Nora said it was out of our price range. Hazel said, "That's my house." We managed to get that house in the low-forties. It was idyllic. In Wilton, I commuted on the New Haven railroad for five years. I think it was from 1968 to 1973. I was working in our head office in what we called the Overseas Unit for Individual Banking. People from all over the world would come in and want to talk about their money in Liberia and Japan, and so on. I worked in that area during those years. Wilton was a wonderful area. The highlights there were two intercontinental trips from Wilton, Connecticut to Long Beach, California in a station wagon. Those trips were classic. I told the girls that they'd seen the United States from thirty-thousand feet but that they hadn't really seen it. Well, we got into the station wagon, loaded to the gills, with the four girls in the back trying to get comfortable. We'd go from one stop to another and see things along the way. We always stopped at the Holiday Inns and the girls went straight to the pool. We traversed the country and saw everything. The girls saw America and it was a great growing-up experience. My parents lived near Long Beach and whenever we went there, we went to Disneyland. The cross-country trips were invaluable. I kept them on their toes with games like, "First one to see a white horse or a yellow Volkswagen gets five cents." It was something that created memories. All of them talk about it. One memorable trip, our youngest, Sarah, was about five or six years old. We 40 stopped for gas and drove off and we were a mile away when we realized we'd left her. Nobody had counted noses. We got back and she was crying. It was one of those things. Hazel and I fell in love with Disneyland, too. On our fiftieth anniversary, we all went to Disneyland and they bought two blocks with our names on them in the area where they sell your name and it's there for eternity. ROH: When did your parents move to Long Beach? EB: After I left home. My dad had several close friends who had moved to Long Beach. Dad became an avid golfer at sixty-five and played almost until his death. My brother had lived there most of his life. My sister did very well there. Those trips across country were something else. The girls graduated from Wilton High School. Then they got ahold of me in New York and said, "Ted, how would you like to go to Monrovia, Liberia? We've got a branch there that is the central bank for Liberia and we also do international banking from there; it's an important link for us in West Africa." I went home and told Hazel. If I had been married to an American, I think I would never have had the opportunity to go because an American woman probably would not have adjusted. Hazel said, "Let's go." We got out library books and I got a post report. The first thing that caught my eye was that we had a house in a fifteen-acre strip with six other houses. That area around Liberia contained six of the most deadly snakes in the world. That influenced Hazel to buy riding boots for all the girls so that when they walked through the grass, there would be less of a chance they'd be bitten. There was also a lot of malaria. Our doctor gave us pills, which I think affected us all later in terms of our eyesight. We arrived there with a 41 dog and a cat. Our house had a river behind it that contained crocodiles. There were other animals, like apes and things. We were in the middle of an animal kingdom. When I got into the branch I got a shock. I didn't have a problem with blacks, but it was a cultural shock to walk in and see everyone in the branch was black except the manager and me. There was an adjustment there. We settled in and found out that we were the kingpins as far as the American banks there. The president of Liberia thought nothing of coming in at whatever hour of the day or night and saying to the manager of the bank, "I'm going to New York. I need some traveler's checks." We'd have to open the branch and get that for him. We had a problem with labor relations. The employees decided to strike because their white managers did not understand them—that was I and the other manager. We were in the hot seat there for a while. Hazel developed a friendship with the wife of the President through the American Club. They had a graduation ceremony and Hazel loaned Mrs. Tubman one of her chairs to sit on. During the ceremony, the lights went out and it was raining cats and dogs. They brought out some lanterns. It was a comic graduation. We were invited to a wedding of one of our employees. We were the only white couple there. When we saw the cake, there was a colony of ants crawling over the cake. The cultural shock—you learn to adjust to it and get involved with it. They had golf there but the greens were tarred, they weren't grass. The caddies didn't wear shoes so they'd go out into the rough and pick up 42 your ball—which is illegal in golf, but they wanted a tip—and there were snakes all along the fairway. From time to time, we would transfer money that was depreciated to the central bank. We had a cash officer and two guards when we took that money over to the central bank. On one day, we had branches up-country and he went to the cash officer said he wanted to take money over; I asked how he was going to do it. He said, "Our two Monrovia trucks are busy, so I'll get my chauffeur and my car and get a guard from the bank." I said, "So be it." So they drove over and parked in front of the Monrovia Central Bank. The guard got out and the driver stayed in his seat. Before the guard could get the money out of the car, the driver took off with the money in the trunk. We found the abandoned car. It was a national catastrophe—it was all over the news and all the borders were closed so they couldn't get out. For two days I was waiting. New York told me I'd better get the money back or I was in trouble. So, the guy who stole the money went to his brother's house and they buried it. The one who stole the money took enough to get to the Ivory Coast for vacation. There are two episodes. The guy with the money waiting for a taxi to take him to the Ivory Coast that's fifty miles away. The taxi driver said, "You haven't got enough money to get to the Ivory Coast." And the guy said, "Here." He put the money on the seat and the taxi driver drove off with the money. This is comic. Well, they got a hold of the guy and shook him down and he admitted to where the money was. It was wet and they were digging it up and all the bills were sticking together. So the Treasury Department said, "You've got to be down there 43 while we count this money." I spent three hours there while they were peeling dollar bills to be sure we got all the money back. Another thing—and this one was scary—Hazel and I, and our daughter, went to a show down in the center of Monrovia at night. Coming back, the car stopped. Hazel and our daughter pushed me over the bridge down to the bottom where there was a house. I knocked on the door and a guy came out. I said, "Here's ten dollars, if that car is still there in the morning, I'll give you another ten dollars." We took a taxi home. The funny thing was that our daughters were dating and they wanted me to take them into town. The roads were very narrow and had big drops. This was tribal country. So I'm going along the road at night and I see this car coming towards me on my side of the road. There was no shoulder and I dropped down about ten feet into a ravine—still upright with two of the girls in the back seat. Within five minutes, there was a tribe of indigenous people swarming the car. I thought we were going to be cannibal soup. Well, it took about twelve of these guys, but they helped get the car back up on the road. The compound had a guard at night. One of our junior officers was coming in at night and he went over to him and shook him. Well the native went over to his tribe headquarters and said he had been assaulted by an American. The tribal chief ordered that this man be arrested and go into a tribal court. The bank immediately said, "That's a problem." The only way we saved him was to transfer him out of the country. Then we had an incident of inside robbery. Hazel and I were sleeping in bed with our golden retriever next to me. My wallet was two feet from me. The 44 next morning I woke up and saw my wallet was gone. What had happened was we'd had a thief who had come in with a screw driver and broke through one of the windows. He got into our room and the dog growled but we didn't pay attention. The thief stole my wallet, then went down to the St. Paul River, took everything out and dumped the wallet. At that time, Liberia was ruled by elitists, the people who came by boat from the United States. They had the money and they ran the country. About ninety percent of the people had no money and had been kept under control by the people in power. Just after we left, they had an uprising where they took the president and his cabinet down to the beach, stripped them to their skivvies, and shot them. They gunned down the President of Liberia and eight counselors. That was when this John Doe became famous and was running the country and now things have calmed down. But it was a very serious uprising of the have-nots. Mind you, when they had a parade, they wore top hats and they wore canes—they didn't have any guns. It looked like Laurel and Hardy. We were there about three years and we were packing up to go back to the States—we'd about had it at that point. ROH: Were you doing better financially by this point? EB: No, we were barely hanging on. Anyway, we were scheduled to go back to New York after that tour and one of our senior officers from Athens, Greece was in Liberia visiting. I was talking to him and said I didn't want to go back to New York. He said, "Okay." And the next thing I know, my superior at the branch said, "How 45 would you like to go to Beirut, Lebanon." Well, there was a war going on there. But again, Hazel said, "Okay, let's go." It was eerily quiet when we landed at the Beirut airport. The taxi driver took us to the Bristol Hotel, which was one of the best in the city. We registered and Hazel and Sarah were the only females in that hotel for about three months. They were treated royally by the staff. It was an indication that it was a very dangerous situation. One day Hazel and I decided to go visit the ruins in Syria. Word got around that Boyle and his wife were going to visit the ruins. We got in a taxi with a reporter from New York. We rode up into the area occupied by the Syrian army. We got into Baalbek and we were stopped by Syrian police. They took our passports and wouldn't give them back until we left. The ruins were spectacular. We were the only tourists in any form in that area. We had so many near-misses in Lebanon. They burned the American Embassy. We were located on the Mediterranean in a high rise. We were on the seventh floor and there was a Saudi prince on the eighth floor. Unbeknownst to us, we were in a PLO area—the western side of Beirut was headquarters for Yasser Arafat. We had a bank there called the Bank of Lebanon and Kuwait. It was fifty-fifty with the Kuwait royal family. Our principle objective was to recover investments for our clients because of the war. We were in a tenuous situation. One of the most dangerous things I've ever done—I was obliged to do it. We had branches on the east and west sides of the city. The west was the Muslim side and the east was the Christian. There was a dividing line between them. At one point, the leaders of the Lebanese government decreed that they 46 were going to get some insurance money from the bankers in the area for protection purposes. They approached our offices on the east side and said, "We're going to keep people around here to protect your branch, but it's going to cost you this much." It was not a threat, but in order to continue to bank without being hustled or having people break into the bank, we sent the proposal to New York. They said, "Absolutely not. We cannot be taken to court on that type of issue. Just send down an ultimatum: we do not accept these terms." Well, someone had to take that message to the people in authority. We drew straws and I got the short straw. They said, "Ted, you are going to be an emissary. You're going to drive through an area that's highly contested on both sides and you're going to carry this message personally." I had to go down this road with enemies and firepower on both sides. We stopped near the headquarters of the Lebanese presidency. We were searched and they sat me in the hall to wait. One of the men that was ruling the country had been educated in the United States, so he had an English background. I was brief about it. I told him, "This is what has happened and we've been advised by our headquarters that we cannot do this." He said, "I understand." He shook my hand and I walked out. That was scary. With all this going on, it was very dangerous. Quite frequently, Hazel and our daughter would be flown down to Athens and I'd stay behind. When I'd get to go to Athens, I'd stay over the weekend and come back. The pilot would say, "I've got to find out which runway is open. There's firing on the north side, so I'm 47 coming on the south side so we won't be hit." While we were flying in, there were missiles flying around the airport. ROH: What did you think of Athens? EB: Athens was a dream come true. I had seen a little of the ancient history when I was in the Air Force in Tunisia—the aqueducts and all that. But when I walked around there, I just felt eerie, like it was unreal. It was hard to imagine the history that you were walking around. When we left Beirut, we didn't find out until we were ready to go that our body guards and the people who were hanging around in the lobby all the time were PLO—they were protecting us, unbeknownst to us. The golf course in Lebanon was laid out on the edge of the PLO firing range. The ambassador, I was told, carried a machine gun in his golf bag when he played. We had shrapnel coming down on us while we played. ROH: Did you have friends there? EB: Thanks to Hazel, we have had friends everywhere we've gone. We were involved with the government because of the banking industry. They had the American school there and this is where Hazel and our daughter were baptized. I got the idea, having bombed Europe and seen the desolation and the destruction, Beirut reminded me very much of a destroyed city. They had destroyed the business sector. Buildings were derelict. It was a mini world war for me. ROH: Did that cause problems in business for you? EB: Oh yes. This was an extreme case of merchants who took advantage of the situation and refused to pay us back. Recovery of assets was very difficult. They 48 knew what the situation was and we had very little clout. You never knew who would be the governing body. We were going to the airport, leaving Beirut, and our driver, innocently, drove through a road block of Syrian soldiers. They were ready to shoot us with machine guns. Another car drove into the line of fire and stopped—in other words, they couldn't see us anymore. He overtook us down the road and said, "I saved your life, what the hell were you thinking?" Our driver thought they were telling us to go on. That was our departure from Beirut. We went from there to Karachi, Pakistan. That was in turmoil too. The president had been convicted of crimes and they were going to execute him. They had killed several marines in our embassy in Islamabad. We got word from New York to get out of there. Hazel and our daughter were flown down to Athens again. I went underground with our people. It was a very tenuous situation when we first got there. There was a lot of demonstrating in front of the bank. Again, our bank worked closely with the government. Pakistan is famous for its textiles. They had an industry down on the coast that broke up old ships that were battle-worn. There was a big industry there for that. They had oil deposits, too, but textiles were their strongest industry. The entertainment there was centered around the American school, which was a premier school. In fact, the Pakistanis who had money would be on waiting lists for years to get their children in the American schools. I was on the board there. In fact, the head of that school was here recently in a tennis tournament for seniors—Tony Horton. He had traveled all over the world as the head of 49 American schools. We had, again, a very closely knit community. We were there for about three years. ROH: Was it better than when you were in Beirut? EB: Oh yes. There was an underlying community of the have-nots. The countries we were in at this time had a high rate of poverty. As a result, there were riots in the cities. It was a learning experience again. ROH: At this point were you thinking about retiring? EB: No, I was still active. I had become a resident vice president. My duties were managing our portfolio—the quality of our loans and making sure people were paying and all that. We took several tours up into the area where the book Three Cups of Tea was written. We were in that area, not quite as high as he was. It's very rural. It was kind of scary in a sense that there wasn't a real feeling that you didn't belong, but you had a feeling that you might be better off if you weren't there. The populous in Karachi was horrific in terms of slums—water and sanitation was a horrible mess. I understood why the have-nots had uprisings. Of course, spinning off from India, there was always a feeling that India was their big rival and there was a fear that India would come after them, and then they had the nuclear problem down there. Pakistan was a tinder box. After Pakistan, we moved over to Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. That was an eye-opener. The bank there was called Saudi-American Bank. It was fifty percent owned by Citibank and fifty percent owned by the royal family. We also had a subdivision for females only. There wasn't a male teller in that division. We had 50 lots of meetings and instances—one where we had a Saudi princess with a lot of money who had a farm development out in the desert. They desired to have their own wheat, which cost ten times as much as it would have to import it from Canada. They have pivot wheels out in the desert with the wheat growing out there, and then the Saudis would have their estates out there. I was invited by a Saudi and the princess arranged for a luncheon. She had about sixty pieces of chicken for three of us for lunch. Our dealings there were really something. If you invited a Saudi of any importance, the wife never came. You never saw their wives in a social engagement. And there was enormous segregation. One of the things they told me was, "If you're driving down the street and a Saudi runs into you, you're liable. They say it wouldn't have happened if you weren't there." The philosophy is that you caused the accident because you were residing in their country. I had a terrible incident there with my health. The Saudi hospitals are staffed by Americans and have our equipment; it's just like an American institution, but only Saudis can utilize those services. My condition worsened and it was decided that I would leave the Kingdom. Our driver took us to the airport and I found that I had a missing document. They said I had to go six blocks to another location to get the document, but the plane was on the runway taxing without me. We raced over and they actually held the plane for thirty minutes for us. I was on that plane for thirty hours in terrible straights. But what I'm going to say is that if anyone in the royal family has hay fever, they head to Walter Reed hospital and take up a whole wing. 51 We dealt with Osama bin Laden's father. He was one of our biggest clients and continues to be one of the biggest powers in industrial equipment in Saudi Arabia. I can't document it, but I think Bin Laden was employed there in Saudi Arabia while I was there. It's funny. You don't have any poverty in Saudi Arabia. It's set up so that if you get in line and go tell the king you need a washer or whatever, he gives you the royal handshake and gives an order. You don't see poverty because the people with oil money keep the populace happy with that type of thing. They say, "Hey, I've got money." But religion—if they think that you are even getting together for religious purposes, they kick you out of the country. They consider that a deterrent to the kingdom. So Hazel and her friends would have secret meetings. They were told not to park close to the house, they would walk so that no one would see the cars together and think, "We got one." Our Air Force guarding the kingdom is a deterrent to the kingdom being overthrown. I think, militarily, our presence has been a big thing in saving the kingdom. Another thing that's interesting is once the Saudis get into the Saudi planes, they'll exchange their royal robes and put on their jeans. ROH: While you were there, was your daughter still with you? EB: Our youngest daughter was a threat—in other words there were restrictions that a young female could not enter the kingdom. They didn't want any western women walking around with the Saudi boys looking at her. So she couldn't get a visa to get in. I don't remember, but I think their laws prohibit interest on loans, making it extremely difficult to bank at a profit. You had to protect yourself with 52 collateral outside of the kingdom because the laws there would make it so difficult to foreclose on a property. You have to play their rules. It's an extremely difficult area to bank in. After Saudi Arabia, we came back to Wilton, Connecticut. At that time, I was approaching retirement and I took an early retirement there. I was sixty-two. ROH: What position did you hold at the bank? EB: I was Vice President for Citibank. ROH: Were you finally doing okay financially? EB: I've always thought in terms of the investments and stocks. Over a period of forty years or so, I've been fortunate. But you have to be patient. The average investor today with this market and all this growling about Wall Street and what's wrong. But what do we produce now? We've lost our keys—we were the kings of electronics and technology. We've lost everything where we could say we dominated. I think most of it is a labor factor of the cost value. You cannot compete with China and India where the person is making a dollar or two dollars an hour but Detroit wants fifty or sixty dollars for the same product. But I want to talk about several vacations. We went to Cairo and went down the Nile on a houseboat from the Aswan Dam clear to Cairo. Doing everything that tourists do with all the royal burial grounds. We got off at Luxor, which is kind of a tourist trap, and Hazel wanted to get a cartouche for each girl. While Hazel was dealing in the jewelry store, the owner of the shop came over and said, "Mister, I give you a hundred racing camels for your wife!" [Laughter] 53 Racing camels were thousands of dollars; it was millions he was talking about. I told him, "Give me a few minutes to think about it." That was hilarious. Our trip to Nairobi, Kenya was fantastic. I've always thought about big game. We got down there with three of our girls and we decided not to go with a guided tour. We got out to the base of Mount Kilimanjaro and we were right in the middle of all kinds of wild game. The next day I decided to go out in our car, by myself, and find the animals. I was going along the trail and low and behold, I see three lions loping by the side of the car. We've got pictures of them. Anyway, we got in there and saw lions, elephants, and rhinos, you name it. On the way back to Nairobi, I tried to drive through a dry lake bed but it was sandy and we got stuck. I finally got onto what you'd call a road and one of the girls smelled gas. I stopped and found that the gas line had parted. The girls put it together and put some gum around it to patch it. We stopped in a village of Masai natives who were about six feet, ten inches tall. We are the only white people in the village. They all had spears and red paint. We dealt with them and got a couple of spears from them. When we got back to our hotel, we headed out towards Mount Kenya. It was a very sumptuous place which was owned by a famous movie star—William Holden. It was like an Elizabeth Taylor movie—there were all these natives with turbans on and holding rifles. At night, you had a fireplace in each cabin and they'd come in and light the fire. It was, again, something out of a fantasy land. 54 Going back with the same car, the car was stopping and starting. We had to coast into Nairobi. We lucked out. But that trip was worth a million dollars. We really roughed it. ROH: Did you hunt while you were there? EB: No, that's too expensive. We did it on an economy budget. The other tourists would get on a bus and see a lion off in the distance, but we had them running right alongside of us. That was something. We spent several vacations in Switzerland. We had a close friend from San Salvador whose husband was a hotel manager. He had a chalet in the Swiss Alps near the border with France. We spent a Christmas there. Switzerland is very orderly. They have a lot of rules and regulations, and it's hard to get in, but I said to Hazel I would live there. Then we spent a Christmas in the Spanish Alps. We did Spain while we were in Saudi Arabia. We saw bullfights and where they grew the wine and all that. We went into Russia during the Cold War. It was 1976. The big thing there was a train ride from Moscow to Leningrad overnight. There was supposed to be an elite coach, but there were four bunks—no beds. Hazel and I and Sarah got in the train leaving the station and a middle-aged Russian male came in and said, "Mine," and pointed to one of the bunks. Then he stripped down and went to sleep there in our cabin. I thought that was hilarious. We were an oddity in Russia. We were at the Kremlin looking at Lenin's tomb and they were parading some of their Mongolian soldiers all dressed up. Hazel was standing around and a Russian lieutenant came up to her and said, "I take you." He served as our 55 guide and took us up through this church we wanted to see. Then we had our English speaking guide, an attorney. I said I wanted to give him something and asked if I could give him money. He said, "Absolutely not. They'll put me in jail." But he said he liked my jeans. So Hazel and I left a package on the back seat of the bus with my jeans in it and he picked it up. ROH: Where haven't you been that you might want to go sometime? EB: I think Australia. We were in Thailand and Hong Kong. I admire the Australians. I lost one of my best friends in the battle with the Japanese down there. My dad used to sing from South Pacific. I'd like to go there. ROH: You were very successful in the banking industry. What do you attribute your success to? EB: I think it was doing the right thing, first of all. No monkey business and a perseverance in cultivating human contacts—relationships with your staff so you didn't talk down to them. Like when we went to Nellis Field and a general came out in a flight suit like a normal trainee and I thought, "That's success—getting down in the trenches." Assimilating customs of the people and trying to understand what makes them work. In other words, why are we banking here, what do they want from us, and how do we go about it. I think relationships and how you treat people are prime—also, towing the line. We went where we were told. I attribute that to my wife because she was very flexible. Without her, I may have stayed in New York and not done any of this. The minute I said, "Pakistan," she said, "Okay." There was never any discussion or complaining. I attribute my success to my wife. She was with me in the trying moments. You have to have 56 support. Now that I've been talking to you, I've asked myself, "What if I had stayed in Ogden?" I could very well have been a salesman for Boyle Furniture for the rest of my life. It's hard to picture who was pulling the strings. Hazel always said God was looking over us and I think she's right. I think somebody was directing us through all this that we did. That's my problem now, I've run the mill and I think I have no more bridges to cross as far as advance or travel I'm content to just kind of sit back. Here in St. George there is a difficulty of communication because of where we were and what we did and our thoughts and perceptions. A lot of times, people turn you off; they're not interested. You get the idea that they want to talk about the local scene and the lack of water here in St. George. If our leaders would at least look at the world and look at what makes the world go 'round—and I stress religion—and try to understand civilizations that have lived according to the Quran for thousands of years and overnight you want them to change and you said, "We've got something better than what you have." I don't like isolation. I think we've got to understand what makes the world go around. China, Cuba, trade wars, and now they're undercutting us—so what? They've done the right thing; let's learn from them. What are they doing that we're not doing? What happened to our manufacturing abilities from the '50s and '60s when we were king of the hill? I think a lot of it is political, unfortunately. But I just wonder where we are headed and what our children's future will be. ROH: Do you keep in touch with people from Citibank? 57 EB: Oh yes, I have a lot of friends in Florida who I met in Colombia. I have my ex-boss in San Salvador and New York. He owns a bank in Bulgaria. He's been featured in Fortune magazine because it's the best bank in Europe. Joe Borgatti was my favorite. He was down to earth. But you get other people who get ahead of themselves because of their title or they want to isolate themselves from you and make you a lesser factor in running the bank. I've had some wonderful associations with people above me and I've had some I didn't like. ROH: What do you think about the changes that have happened with Citibank since you left? EB: We started out with the Rockefellers. In fact, Citibank is the oldest bank in New York. Through the years, leaders of the bank came from high society and we had people in there who were bankers by trade and by inheritance and they stayed the line; in other words, they held on to tradition and what we were good at. There was no variance. We had enormous control over our assets by our auditing departments. We held on to tradition under George Moore and Walter Wriston, then John Reed who was a genius but had a failing in personal communication. After Reed, you drop off. He was the last of the Mohicans. Next you get Sandy Weil who brought all of his ideas about insurance and things we didn't normally get into. He wanted to build an empire and we lost control of what we did best. Sandy did a tremendous job of building up assets, but he lost control of the inner workings and delegated too much. Then they made a bad mistake in naming Prince the president. He was an attorney by profession and knew very little about banking. We got off track. There was a law earlier that prohibited 58 banking activities outside of a certain area, like the derivatives and things we got into later. The derivatives were the downfall, they were dealing with assets they had no control over. I think Citi Group will survive because of all the help from the government but it back-fired. The major corporations, who used to be the pillar for the banking community, now have their own in-house bank. A depositor asks, "Will my money be safe with Citibank?" This goes right back to the economy. We don't have jobs and there's no money in circulation. ROH: How did you decide to create an endowment at Weber State? EB: "I have accepted this assignment with immense feelings of inadequacy, humility, and privilege, keenly aware that the man we honor and memorialize here today was, and is, a giant whose character, thought and deeds can never receive can never receive justice by the mere force of human utterance. Dr. Jennings G. Olsen is the only person I have ever known who is unqualifiably deserving of the title genius. One who, in fact, came closer than any of my acquaintances, of being a man for all seasons, as was said of Thomas Moore. Indeed, a virtual superman. I was an eighteen year old freshman just out of high school, anything but passionate about the need for an education. Wet enough behind the ears to have narrowly escaped drowning, my friend and new found mentor Jennings G, on the other hand, a man of twenty-five soon to receive his doctorate in philosophy from UCLA, had even read and absorbed more than most academics do in an entire lifetime. Along with the rest of my fellow students, I promptly found myself astounded by his incredible knowledge and memory, prodigious vocabulary, and his uncanny ability to quote chapter and verse from everything 59 and anything he had ever read. Even more importantly, his power to analyze, synthesize, and contain this ever-growing information within a context amendable to the humblest of intellects. Impeccably dressed in starched white shirts, ties and a sport coat, slacks inevitably pressed to a crease that would cut your hand, his cheery countenance well-scrubbed and glowing with vitality. Jennings was also the quintessence of organization. His lessons on Plato, Socrates, Aristotle, and other greats, such as Augustine, were always carefully outlined on the blackboard and completed with articulate and meticulously exact due. One of his oft-expressed mottos read as follows, 'Organization and schedule are the keys to success.' Nevertheless, his presentations were rarely limited to straight lecture and he made ample provision for student response through carefully inter-related and challenging questions that required us to engage in the unique experience of actually thinking." ROH: Who wrote that? EB: Gordon Allred. This is a eulogy he wrote for the funeral. I'll give you a copy. [See Insert]. There's a picture of him at Weber College in his younger days. Let me tell you, Gordon Allred's father was Thatcher Allred, who was in a department at Weber College who was a dominating factor in stage production. His mother was a poet. He came from a very talented family. I have a book that Gordon wrote about the Japanese Kamikaze pilots. He spent some time over there with a pilot who had survived. The book is spellbinding if you're interested. HB: I don't think you told them that he was born with a handicap. 60 EB: He was born with a club foot and he participated in pole-vaulting. Nobody knew about it unless you were an intimate friend of his. He never divulged that. He had a professional singing voice. He performed in operas and sang on television. People that knew him, like I did from day one, admired his ability to surpass all of his difficulties. But he never, ever complained. I think he was a little bit above the crowd and very intellectually powerful. Perhaps it was overabundant to the average student. He delved into the topic of the origin of life in order to show students that there were two sides to the equation, but he never pushed it. He went into Darwinism and just said, "This is something that people think about it. I'm not telling you what to think." He opened their minds and wanted people to be able to think instead of just being told. From my perspective, Hazel and I had nothing to do with Weber State. Then we went into Ogden one day and saw the campus there and I decided to go take a look. Carol Biddle was the catalyst. I walked in to her office and I said, "I'm Ted Boyle and maybe I have some money to donate." She said, "First thing, I want you to read this book by Sadler." So I went home and read that book from front to back looking for indices of Jennings Olsen. There wasn't a single award. I noticed the lesser degree people were getting awards and I said, "What happened to Jennings Olsen? Why isn't he mentioned somewhere?" That triggered my interest. I went back to Carol and said, "I want to do something for Jennings Olsen." That's where it started. I think Jennings was probably not a sociable person. I think he may have isolated himself in his books and his will to increase 61 his knowledge of religion and the world. It was just his background. He came through hell and high water and he was a person who should have been eulogized at the highest level—with his physical problems and coming from kind of a broken home. I really think that Jennings was so worldly that Weber County wasn't ready for him. He got his doctorate from UCLA and I think he would have been president of the university there. I think he was misplaced and in this community he was misunderstood. He didn't get the recognition he deserved. ROH: You've created that recognition. EB: No, I haven't, and I am so displeased that not one dollar from his staff, his friends, his family—there hasn't been one. I say, "What am I missing?" You would have thought someone, in the total time he taught there, would have said, "He taught me something and I'm going to put ten dollars in." I'm being facetious. ROH: You should get credit for stepping up. EB: It's still not recognizable as something that is popular. I think it's something that's there, but it's not an attention-getter. I really think that Dr. Olsen was in the wrong place at the wrong time. His manner of attacking world religion and making people understand where we all came from. All he wanted was for students to open their minds and think. He wouldn't tell him it was right or wrong. I'm disappointed because I think I tried and there's nothing to show for it. I thought maybe it would catch fire but I think it's going to die a natural death. ROH: It's there and people can find it. We appreciate the fact that you did this because I, for one, wouldn't know anything about Dr. Olsen if not for you. But each person 62 who gives to the university does it in a way that they are passionate about. You never know what's going to happen. EB: Maybe someday it'll be like when they resurrect these ancient scholars. Unfortunately, he didn't produce any work of his own. I have personal letters but I don't know if they should be made public or not. We were so different—he was an intellectual and, as I told you, I barely got passing grades. Maybe opposites attract. ROH: Is there anything you would like to add before we finish? EB: I'm infatuated with Ogden still, though I've left, and I want to know what happened to the Ogden I knew in the 1930s and 1940s. I can imagine it was the railroad departure and the entrance of the supply depot and Hillfield. Maybe it attracted a lesser culture. But it was king of the hill—people from Salt Lake traveled to Ogden to shop. It was a place of honor. As Tom Brokaw said, "The greatest generation," I think the class of 1940 from Ogden High was the class of a generation. I'm not being facetious, but that class had more activity and more people who were going places and doing it with little resources. The final shot is the Ogden Standard Examiner. I felt that in the 1930s, and 1940s, and 1950s, the Standard Examiner got inside of what was happening in Ogden—the people and what they were doing and where they were going. It was a very informative paper about doings. It seems to me that they've gotten off track now. You don't feel like you're a part of it anymore. ROH: Thank you very much for your time.

Issue 66.1 of the Review for Religious, 2007. ; ' Spiritu:alilty Perspectives Community Tod:ay~s Saint QUARTERLY 66.1 2007 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the" holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul Vl said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: ~w.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious - 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ° Pontifical College Josephinum 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ RO. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2007 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. eview for religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff l~ebmaster Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell 0SB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Clare Boehmer ASC Martin Erspamer OSB Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ QUARTERLY 66.1 2007 contents prisms 4 Prisms 19 spirituality Aging and Christian Spirituality: Joy and Resignation Matthias Neuman OSB explores two challenges of aging, namel.v, the ability to enjoy and the need of resignation. Dreams in Prayer and Discernment Jennifer Constantine Jackson examines the human experience of dreams as one resource from the Lord that can assist us on ¯ the road to spiritual maturity. Reflection/Discussion Questions 3O perspectives Confessions of a Franciscan Ethicist Rende Mirkes O~'S shows how being Franciscan can and does affect the way she does ethics. Review for Religious 40 58 Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue Colleen Mary Mallon OP explores dialogical communion, from the writings of the French Dominican Yves Congar, and reflects upon specific practices of discipleship that promise to deepen communal conversion while offering prophetic witness to a global world. Personal Reflection/Group Discussion community Rose Hoover RC says that being together on the inward journey is a subtly rigorous togetherness not to be missed. 64 An Experience of Jesus and His Brothers Robert Schieler FSC describes his congregation's Holy Week retreat in which three provinces saw a happily workable way to be energetically together as one. 74 today's saint Mother's Quest and Bequest: Theodore Guerin's Sainthood Mary Roger Madden SP provides a historical vignette of her congregation's recently canonized American foundress to show the greatness of her spiritual bequest. departments 90 Scripture Scope: The Bible and the Church 95 Canonical Counsel: Bona Ecclesiastica 101 Book Reviews 66.1 2007 prisms Do I want to be holy? When we ask our-selves the question, the answer would seem to be obvious. Since we believe in God and we want to enjoy life forever with God, we are trying to be holy. Probably many of us would find it a bit pretentious to say that right now we are making the effort to be holy. Why is it so off-putting for us to admit simply that we want to be holy? Trying to be holy sounds, well, sanctimonious. We judge that we are priding ourselves on some-thing we are not. We don't want to be people setting ourselves down at the head of the table in Jesus' parable, only to be told to take a lower place. All too often we think that to be holy includes all the things that we are not: unfail-ingly pious, always prayerful, never offensive, and ever patient and long-suffering. Perhaps images like the eyes-rolled-up to heaven, the hands folded, and the pallid face featured in many portraits of our saints hold us off from identifying with holiness. We likely need a reevaluation of what it means to be holy. God is the holy One. If God is by nature holy, then we are not naturally holy. But God calls us to be holy and empowers us to "be holy as I am holy." In the sacramental life, we identify these key empowerments in baptism, confirmation, and eucharist. God the Father, in the identifying of us with his Son and in the gift-ing of their Spirit, has truly made us sons and daughters. Being part of God's family--the ones adopted in Jesus' name--we merit being called holy ones, the saints as St. Paul frequently refers to his fellow Christians in the various churches to whom he writes his letters. Review for Religqous We might believe that we are called to be holy, in fact, that we are children of God. But what we are and how we act might be two different things. What does it mean for us to act like holy persons? Jesus is our way that we come to understand and live a divine holiness. Holiness, above all, is rooted in our love relationship with our triune God in Jesus. By watching Jesus in action, we discover how we are to live and act holily. Let's take some examples that we ordinarily do not associate with holiness. Jesus lives his holiness in his presence and in his participation in parties such as the Cana wedding feast and in banquets of all kinds, sometimes held in houses of those consid-ered public sinners such as Matthew and Zacchaeus and at other times in the homes of his pious "betters"--like Simon the Pharisee. Holiness, we see, is made real and strengthened in enjoying life, like parties and banquets. In all kinds of circumstances, Jesus expresses holiness in breaking the rules--usually surrounding Sabbath obser-vances- because of his compassion and love. Jesus, we see, teaches us that holiness is not to be identified just with "keeping the rules." Priests and Levites--good peo-ple- kept the rules of not contaminating themselves by helping a wounded traveler, but it was the foreigner, a false-believing Samaritan, who acted holily. Jesus says that we must act as one who loves neighbor as oneself. Jesus shows us that holiness grows in the conversations and interactions with all different classes of people, sometimes with people who think quite differently from him--the ways of Jesus' ministering in the gospels. Jesus shows us that dealing with others who think differently from us is a part of our being holy. Simply said, to live holily, as Jesus shows us, is to live an everyday kind of life, graced always by the love of God and love of neighbor. David L. Fleming SJ 66.1 2007 MATTHIAS NEUMAN Aging and Christian Spirituality: Joy and Resignation spirituality Aging, that universal human experience, is one of life's great mysteries. Why the various stages in the human life cycle: infancy, childhood, ado-lescence, adulthood, and old age? Why should human life be like that? Why do we grow up and then slowly break down, piece by piece, until death comes for us? Our creative God could have arranged matters differently. But the real-ity remains that human life, unless tragically cut short, ends with old age, dissolution, and death-- years that people often find extremely troubling. Old age is where aging really hits home. Aging, especially the last phase, "old age," has become a major social issue for many Western countries. The graying of populations looms in many of them as a social and economic issue. The recent report of the President's Council on Bioethics, Taking Care: Ethical Caregiving in our Aging Society, puts it pointedly: Matthias Neuman OSB has written for us often. His pres-ent address is Our Lady of Grace Monastery; 1414 Southern Avenue; Beech Grove, Indiana 46107. Review for Religious There is no question that we are on the threshold of a "mass geriatric society.," a society of more long-lived individuals than ever before in human history. For this great gift of longer and healthier life for ourselves and our loved ones we are, and should be, enormously grateful . At the same time, however, there are good reasons to be concerned about the human and moral shape that a mass geriatric society will take, especially if the "price" many people pay for the added years of healthier life is a period of protracted debility, demen-tia, and dependence stacked up at the end before they eventually die. Such a reshaping of the life cycle will create enormous challenges for nearly every family and for the entire society.! The Catholic ethicist Daniel Callahan pinpoints some of those troubling issues. By 2030 almost 20 percent of the American population will be over 65; the combined costs of Medicare and Medicaid will double; close to half of those over 85 will suffer from some form of dementia. He says: "The projected long-term institutional costs alone, quite apart from medical expenses, will be astronomical.''2 Aging also appears as an increasing pastoral care issue for the church. The 1999 document of the Pontifical Council for the Laity, "The Dignity of Older People and Their Mission in the Church and in the World," says that the increasing number of aging people in the developed coun-tries of the world will cause some significant shifts in the style and opportunities for pastoral care: The ecclesial community, for its part, is called to respond to the great participation which older people would like to have ih the church by turning to account the "gift" they represent as witnesses of the tradition of fai.th, teachers of the wisdom of life, and workers of charity. [The Church] must therefore reexamine its apostolate on behalf of older people, and open it up to their participation and collaboration.3 66.1 2007 Neuman ¯ Aging and Christian Spirituality Aging doqs not need o be a series of losses th'a can only be eiid ¢ed::i In this article I explore two challenges that aging pres-ents for Christian spirituality. These challenges touch individuals, families, parishes, and the church as a whole. Aging does not need to be a series of losses that can only be endured. Indeed, it offers genuine possibilities for spiritual growth. I came to be interested in this topic for several rea-sons. Seven years ago my father fell on some ice and broke his hip. He never really recovered from that, and spent his last two years in a nursing home. In those two years my parents, my sisters, and I talked much about the reality of nursing-home life, about how many things aging compels the elderly and their families to give up. A year after my father died, my mother fell inside her house and broke her hip. She recovered much better than he did. She had observed the nursing home firsthand and had no desire to go there: "The smells and the food would kill me for sure." Her great effort to do her therapy and avoid the nursing home enabled her (at age 86) to finish the rehabilitation program three weeks early. She was able to return home, but my sisters and I felt she needed a watchful presence around her more than a duplex could-provide. So she moved into a home for the elderly, and Ibecame chaplain for the Benedictine sisters who run the home. My mother and I walk together frequently, our conversations returning now and then to the trials and opportunities of aging. At ninety-two she feels them acutely. I must face my own aging too. At sixty-four, I have had to accept it for some time now. In the last twenty years, I have given up physically competitive sports; my Review for Religious football, baseball, and basketball gear were given away long ago. I still have golf and the treadmill, but the clock is ticking there too. For the last three years, back prob-lems have cut short my summer golf. What encouraged me more than anything else to do some spiritual reflection on aging was a little pam-phlet titled The Grace of Old Age by Father Vincent M. O'Flaherty SJ. He.wrote a series of reflections while a patient in a nursing home himself. His view of aging is special, and he provides some excellent thoughts on the spirituality of aging. Here is one: "When I look at my tensions from the point of view of detachment, I see that each tension is a fear of losing the power to enjoy one of the goods of this life. As a grace, aging is a slow death of the power of enjoying this world.''4 That last cuts deep. But, as Father O'Flaherty adds, it also makes more spiritual growth possible. But wherein does that spiritual growth consist? Throughout Christian history, old age has not stimulated a lot of sustained reli-gious thinking.5 In developed Western countries, that is due in part to the fact that, until the latter part of the 20th century, most people did not live to old age as we know it. In 1790 the U.S. population over age 65 comprised only two percent. By 1980 that was eleven percent, and in 2004 it was approaching fifteen. The President's Council on Bioethics says that the fastest-growing age group in the U.S. is "the oldest of the old (people age 85 or over).''6 In the last quarter century, the increasing percentage of older people has created much investigation into all aspects of growing older. But there is a counterbalance to this increasingly aging population. As the number of older persons in the U.S. increases, the inherent value of any one of them decreases. Previously the elderly's very "scarcity" was a value. A household with an elderly per-son, with someone who could tell the family's history, was 66.1 2007 Neuman ¯ Aging and Christian Spirituality considered honored and blessed. In our own day people are more likely to worry about how many older people there are and how they are going to be cared for. Both the joys and resignations, " of old agk can be seen~ hs ways of deepenin~ g onr . relationship with~ God. Perspective People generally have two ways of considering the onset of old age. Both appear in scientific as well as common thought, and both are mentioned by the Pontifical Commission's document "The Dignity of Older People.-7 The first way is to anticipate joys, to expect that each age possesses its own blessings, its own joys and achieve-ments. The last years of life offer particular graces: the joy of grandchildren, lessening responsibility, time for relaxation, oppor-tunity to do some things you always wanted to do. The Christian tradition often encouraged this, considering old age a blessing. The Bible provides some examples: "Gray hair is a crown of glow" (Pr 16:31). "You shall rise before the aged, and defer to the old" (Lv 19:32). Older persons are presumed wise, from their great store of life experience. A second way to deal with aging is resignation. This seems the predominant way. People work at accepting the inevitability of aging, and its conclusion. Aging always involves loss. People must give up many things along the way. At each stage of life, valuable and dear things are left behind. Resignation includes a fearful looking ahead to possible situations that one would rather not face. The fear of helplessness, of being a burden to others, remains Review for Religious extremely troubling for many people. With resignation, one tries to be ready for inevitable losses without becom-ing angry about them. There is a whole body of literature on "disengagement theory.''8 As they advance in age, most people probably experience some joy about their future and some resignation regarding things they fear. All of us have to learn the proper proportions for ourselves. This is a matter of our religious response. Both the joys and resignations of old age can be seen as ways of deepening our relationship with God. Enjoying Joys As people grow older, they do not lose their right to joy in life. They can still partake of joys and pleasures, simple though they may be. The church's teaching on pleasure and joy has not always been as positive as it might have been.9 From the perspective of Vatican Council II, people are beginning to see life's legitimate joys as our ini-tial sharing in the resurrection. A nursing-home resident make this point directly: "Despite pain, I am experiencing joy. If that is so, I am experiencing God. I am delighted to wake up in the morning, to have another day to experi-ence God in joy. The simplest things--the weather, the barren trees of winter, the sports scores, reading, staying in touch with families and friends--all give me joy. In all I find a taste of God. Yes, it is tough to grow old, but I have found joy that I did not know in my youth.''1° Some of the sharper slants of disengagement theory would urge the elderly to disengage themselves from any joys that keep them attached to this world. But a Christian spirituality would encourage older persons to enjoy what they still can. Indeed, other scholars of aging would assert that older people who are not too old can develop abili-ties that they never knew they possessed. Studies suggest that the brain's left and right hemispheres become better 66.1 2007 Neuman * Aging and Christian Spirituality integrated during middle age, making way for improved creativity in one's older years. Age also seems to dampen some negative emotions, making it easier to get rid of anger.1~ My own mother in her eighties developed a bet-ter attitude toward death than she ever had previously. It happens to others as well: An editor I know at a New York publishing company provides a case in point. He was in his sixties and con-templating retirement when he realized that he had finally matured into his job. Despite a sharp intellect and a passion for excellence, this man had spent much of his career alienating people with brusque, critical comments and a lack of sensitivity. Now . . . he was finally beginning to master interpersonal communica-tion. As his emotional development caught up to his intellectual development, he morphed from a brilliant but brittle loner into a mentor and a mediator of con-flicts . His best work was still ahead of him.12 This potential to be creative and surprising is some-thing that those who work with the elderly need to be more aware of. Often they do not give aging people a chance. Sometimes the elderly do not give themselves a chance. Learning new abilities, arriving at positions we could never previously attain, constitutes a great joy of one's older years. The Vatican document "The Dignity of Older People and Their Mission in the Church and in the World" urges that the legitimate charisms of older people be recognized. These gifts can be real blessings for the entire church.~3 The charism of disinterestedness, the ability to give some-thing or to give of themselves without any thought of return, is a special gift that older people can share with younger generations. Another charism of the elderly is memory, in particular carrying the past forward and creat-ing a shared identity for a family, a parish, or some other group. Similarly the charism of interdependence, the ability Review for Religious to overcome individualism and self-seeking and enter into genuine interactions with others, becomes very specific in the lives of the elderly. In many ways elderly people have a need of being interdependent. Their deeply felt awareness can teach :., ,-,, -. - o o., :::c~umauitz~te'sloysi~ndpteasures. nity, and integrity in being old and being old in public. That witness amazed many people, and there is much we still need to learn from it.~4 Let us consider some of the joys that are specific to old age. One is reminiscence--thinking back to the happy and satisfying events of one's life. That can surely be a genuine joy. My mother has often said that the vacations my family took together give her much to remember and delight in. (For twenty years we went on a week's vacation each summer.) Another joy as a person ages is to anticipate the contributions one can make by instructing a younger generation and see them grow to maturity, surely a joy for one who looks back on a lengthy teaching career. Father O'Flaherty reminds us that certain joys, although genuine, are limited: "Part of the confusion over the question of happiness in old age comes from a rela-tive definition of fun. Thus we might ask whether living in Sun City is fun. If we look at it from the point of view of entertainment, Sun City has everything. But we should not exaggerate fun in old age; it peaks out with grandma knitting in a rocking chair. Neither a young nor a mature man would be attracted by the fun in Sun City.''s 66.1 2007 Neuman ¯ Aging and Christian Spirituality Christian spirituality invites the aging to have a deeper appreciation of human life's joys and pleasures. There are created joys appropriate to each stage of life. These should be identified and savored, even or especially by the elderly. Here Christian spirituality can take a hint from Jewish spirituality: A characteristic attitude is taken up by the Talmud towards the pleasures of life. Recognizing that what has been created by God for man's enjoyment must be essen-tially good, it not only counsels men to indulge in them but even condemns those who abstain from them. The rabbis assume the standpoint that God wants his creatures to be happy, and it must therefore be sinful deliberately to shun physical happiness and material well-being.~6 Vghile traditional Christian spirituality would allow a much more positive place for asceticism, s011 there is room in Christian spirituality for legitimate joys and pleasures at each stage of life. This means acknowledging and delighting in the pleasures (a sunny day, an exciting sporting event, a glass of wine). Then, going a step fur-ther, it means giving praise to God for these gifts of joy. Enjoyment is a part of God's providence for us. Facing Resignations Enjoying what pleasures one can in old age is part of Christian spirituality. Nonetheless, at the center of a spirituality of aging remains the reality of facing the many resignations life demands. No matter how great the joys are that elderly people may delight in, acts of resigna-tion are perhaps unavoidably greater. Giving up various pleasures of life is a never-ending part of aging: driving at night, strenuous or agile physical movement, certain well-liked foods, traveling to visit distant friends. The list goes on and on. To recall clearly something you have loved to do for Review for Religious twenty, thirty, or forty years and say "No more" both scares and humbles. So, as Christians, how do we deal with these resignations in ourselves and in others? First we admit that they are difficult and frightening. People coping with them should be patient with themselves and with others. Instant or pat answers like "Christ gave up everything, so should you" can do more harm than good. Elizabeth Kiibler-Ross showed five stages that people may experience as death comes closer: denial, anger, bargain-ing, depression, and acceptance.~7 These may be present when people have to use a walker all the time for mobility or have to enter a nursing home. We can help people to acknowledge the pain and loss they feel; denial does not help. We can be there with them, what Sheila Cassidy has called a "Stabat Mater" spirituality, a simple, silent, stand-with-them presence.~8 After each acceptance of loss, people may feel a loss of integrity. To their mind they will seem to be "less," "needier," a "bother" to others. The helping spiritual task assists them to regain a connectedness with people and things, to help them see that their life still possesses a fundamental meaning and purpose, that their own inner life will always have value in sight of God and for those who love them. We think back to Father O'Flaherty's comment: "Aging is a slow death of the power of enjoying this world." In our later years, aging is dominated by physical and mental decline and the giving up of many pleasures. There is also the fear of facing significant pain; that takes serious resignation as well. Father O'Flaherty puts it well again: "Modern medicine has increased my tensions. I am on 'their' side when they prolong my pleasures, but I classify them among nay enemies when they propose to prolong my pains . My fear is that they would lengthen my three hours on the cross to six.''~9 66.1 2007 Neuman ¯ Aging and Christian Spirituality Vatican Council II's Constitution on the Church has some fine insights about offering our lives to God as spiritual sacrifices: "For all [the laity's] works, prayers, and apostolic undertakings, family and married life, daily work, relaxation of mind and body, if they are accom-plished in the Spirit--indeed even the hardships of life if patiently borne--all these become spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ" (§34). The chal-lenge is thus to see each resignation as a spiritual sacrifice. In their later years people offer their life's troubles. Their fragile and failing bodies and minds become gifts pleasing to God. Father O'Flaherty notes: "'vVhen a man gets old and his mind gets foggy, he cannot formulate flowery prayers. At the beginning of the countdown (age 65) he should start saying the prayer of simple presentation so that he will be in the habit of using it when his faculties are not keen. Just present yourself to God . Push your wheel-chair into the chapel and show your broken hip to our Lord. This throws the burden of giving you a cross on Almighty God. It is the resigned way of praying, with full resignation to the will of God.''2° " When people are young, faith shows itself in a lot of activity, vision, building. But in old age faith turns much more around seeking the peace of God. In facing the res-ignations of aging, giving up and faith are almost indistin-guishable. Sometimes all the elderly can do is bring their broken bodies as their spiritual sacrifice; that is their way of building the kingdom of God. The Constitution on the Church notes, too, that suf-fering can be a way to holiness. "In a special way also, those who are weighted down by poverty, infirmity, sick-ness and other hardships should realize that they are united to Christ, who suffers for the salvation of the world" (§41). In old age, that suffering becomes very real Review for Religion, s and sometimes omnipresent in aches and pains, some-times very severe pain. One of the challenges that aging presents to Christian spirituality is coming to believe and assert that pain in old age becomes a genuine prayer. In dealing with the many resignations of aging, we are always working toward that confession of Christ in the garden: "Not my will, but yours be done" (Mt 26:39). From a Christian perspective, that is the result of every resignation: it becomes a holy resignation, the offering of our lives as a spiritual sacrifice. Notes ~ President's Council on Bio-Ethics, 7~;king Care Ethical Caregiving in Our Aging Society (2005), pp. xvii-xviii. 2 "Curing, Caring, and Coping," America (30 January 2006): 13. 3 Pontifical Council for the Laity, "The Dignity of Older People and their Mission in the Church and in the Vqorld," in Autumn Blessings: Living Old Age in Faith (Little Sisters of the Poor Publications Office, n.d.), p. 43. 4 Vincent M. O'Flaherty SJ, The Grace of Old Age (Franciscan Herald Press, 1976), p. 31. s An overview of this topic may be perused in K. Brynolf Lyon, Toward a Practical Theology of Aging (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1985), "Aging and the Christian Theology Tradition," pp. 31-53. 6 Taking Care, p. 7. 7 Autumn Blessings, pp. 15-16. 8 Lyon, Toward a Practical Theology, pp. 64-66. ~ Jacques-Marie Pohier, "Pleasure and Christianity.," in Franz B6ckle and Jacques-Marie Pohier (eds.), Sexuality in Contempo~w~[y Catholicism (New York: Seabury Press, 1976), pp. 103-109. m Frank Moan SJ, "Prayer and Pain," America (19-26 June 2006): 19. ~ Gene Cohen, "The Myth of the Midlife Crisis," Newsweek (17 January 2006), p. 82. 12 Cohen, p. 12. ~s Autumn Blessings, pp. 18-20. ~4 Robert Proctor, "A Farewell to Remember: \~That John Paul II's Death Taught Us," Commonweal (3 June 2005): 19-25. ~s O'Flaherty, Grace, p. 20. 66.1 2007 Neuman ¯ Aging and Christian SpMtuality 1~ A. Cohen, Eve~yman's Ta&md (New York: Schocken Books, 1975), p. 230. ~7 Elizabeth Kiibler-Ross, On Death and Dying (Touchstone, 1969, 1997). ~s Sheila Cassidy, Sharing the Darkness (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1991), p. 66. ~90'Flaherty, Grace, p. 17. :o O'Flaherty, Grace, p. 55. via dolorosa it is their sorrow I bear yet they will never know how they have been beaten like a hanging rug stripped bare they are unaware of their nakedness and this is their anguish to thirst and not know why to bleed and not see the wounds Lou Ella Hickman IWBS Review for Religious JENNIFER CONSTANTINE JACKSON Dreams in Prayer and Discernment /~lthe past forty years, writings on Christian spiritu-ity, particularly on prayer and discernment, have given renewed attention to dreams (Doran 498). This article elucidates some movements in this area of study and then invites spiritual directors and discerners to make use of them in Ignatian spirituality. Dreams represent a way of true responsiveness, especially for the laity, to the church's call to an authentic obedience, an obedience that is at all times discerning and fulfilling God's will in the world (Lumen gentium, §37). Some of the earliest contributions to this recent attention to dreams are John A. Sanford's Dreams: God's Forgotten Language (1968) and Morton Kelsey's Dreams: The Dark Speech of the Spirit (1968). The key insight that begins with these works is captured in 1978 in Kelsey's Dreams: A Way to Listen to God (p. 9) and again in 1991 in his reflections on his teaching at the University of Notre Dame: "As I listened to my dreams, I found a presence Jennifer Constantine Jackson, a teacher, is currently a student of theology and Ignatian spirituality. Her address is 333A Harvard Street, Apt. 1A; Cambridge, Massachusetts 02139. 66.1 2007 Jackson * Dreams in Prayer and Discernment wiser than I trying to guide me through my difficulties to wholeness, a wholeness that was possible only when I con-tinued to be in touch with the infinitely loving Holy One" (God, Dreams, and Revelation, p. 213). Dreams take place within one's relationship with God. They invite listening in a process that seems to be initiated and sustained not by the dreamer but by God. Kelsey says that the current ambiguous, even fearful attitude about dreams in Christian spirituality is very dif-ferent from that of the first millennium of Christianity: "The early Christian church viewed the dream as one of the most significant and most important ways in which God revealed his will to human beings . We find this view in the Old Testament, in the New Testament, and in the church fathers up to the time of Aquinas" (God, Dreams, p. 17). Kelsey and others cite many church fathers acknowledging dreams as helpful for growing in relation-ship with God. In his response to the Epicureans' denial of this possibility, Tertullian "specificallysuggested that dreams have various levels of interpretation, and finally he asked, 'Now, who is such a stranger to human experi-ence as not sometimes to have perceived some truth in dreams?'" (109). Kelsey also cites the fathers' reservations concerning dreams in the life of faith. Clement details what must be the formation of one who interprets dreams (106), Origen says that evil spirits can enter dreams (108), and Gregory emphasizes the dangers for those not aware of the illusory nature of dreams (142). It is clear from these cautionary words that there was a shared under-standing that dreams must be discerned within faith. Concerning attentiveness to the needs of Christians today, Kelsey's emphasis on "wholeness" seems to be echoed in The New Dictionary of Catholic Spirituality. In its entry on "dreams," James L. Empereur SJ cites "the sig-nificance of dream work for spirituality and personal inte- Review for Religious gration" as "based on the conviction that every dream is in the service of wholeness through the integration of the inner and outer lives" (296). At the close of Empereur's four-page entry, the reader still wonders how the "service of wholeness" intentionally involves a participation in the life of the Trinity on the part of those involved in the work of dreams. In Spirituality in Depth: Essays in Honor of Sister Irene Dugan RC, Michael Cooper SJ's reflections on "A Spirituality of Balance" provide some assistance. Cooper says: "At the end of the 'discourse of antitheses,' the Beatitudes in Matthew, Jesus sums up all he has just said by exhorting his disciples, 'You must, therefore, be perfect, just as your heavenly Abba is perfect (Mt 5:48)'" (57). Contrary to the "strict and demanding tone" that the Greek word telios has often taken on, Cooper says that "the actual Greek New Testament meaning of telios is whole, complete, balanced!" (57). Herein lies a key to actualizing "that divine balance which lies at the heart of his gospel call to relationship and discipleship" (59). Highlighting the early communities devoted to religious life in the church, Cooper shows how an attentiveness to dreams in a community's faith life could contribute to this "divine balance": The hermits--male and female--lived alone but never too far from each other, so that they could cry out and be heard in case of threat or illness. Because of the isolation and sensory deprivation, some underwent the equivalent of today's Jungian analysis as their dreams and halluci-nations brought their demons and forgotten memories to the surface. Those who survived this descent into their own netherworlds and who were deeply grounded in their own humanity and in their own Christian faith eventually gained renown as wisdom figures. Individuals would come out to the desert to seek spiritual counsel and often stayed for weeks or months as they pursued their own spiritual conversion. (59) 66.1 2007 Jackson ¯ Dreams in Prayer and Discernment For those committed to religious life in the first centuries of Christianity, the fruits of attentiveness to dreams could be pursued successfully only through grace and only if the purpose was life in Christ. As Kelsey notes, this very purpose brought St. TMr~se of Lisieux spiritual consola-tion through her own dream near the end of her short life (God, Dreams, 164). Are these matters relevant to Ignatian spiritual direc-tors and discerners today? In a 1979 series of lectures on For those committed. to religifus life in thee first centuries of Christi~nity)_ the fruits, of attent, iveness to dreams could.~be pursued, Successfully only through grace only, if the .purpose. was life in,Chris "Jungian psychology and contemporary Christian spiritual-ity," published in Review for Religious, Robert Doran SJ noted that, reserva-tions about Jungian psychology notwith-standing, "there is much that we not only can, but indeed must, learn [from Jung] in developing both a theology and an ascesis of spiri-tual transformation in the context of the contemporary world" (499). Working in the tradition of Bernard Lonergan SJ, and noting as well Karl Rahner sJ'S work in Ignatian spirituality, Doran provides an essential guide especially in the matter of dreams and discernment. Doran found himself more and more convinced that "a psychological understanding of the development and flow-ering of human affectivity., is pertinent to our spiritual self-understanding" (857). Both spirituality ("grace, the Review for Religious supernatural, self-denial, the following of Christ" [858]) and psychology are involved in the "realm of interiority," which is also the reahn of dreams and desire (500). "It is the task of spiritual theology," he says, "to mediate these two conceptual worlds [spirituality and psychology], the one with the other, by taking its stand in interior experi-ence, which is the dimension to which both sets of con-cepts refer if they are talking about anything real" (858). Doran emphasizes such a task because of what he has noticed as two severe problematic positions concerning the relation of spirituality and psychology. The first is "the reduction of spirituality to psychology" (857), and the second, "a tendency, once, perhaps, pronounced in Christian spirituality, [and] still to be found," divorces "spirituality from psychology so completely that discern-ment itself becomes impossible . Such an orientation, when put into practice, leads to a split consciousness and a compartmentalized life" (858). The tendency toward this second extreme, he thinks, is because of an ambiguity concerning, in particular, the work of Carl Jung. Here lies Doran's important contri-bution. He precisely identifies Jung's contributions to an Ignatian discernment of spirits, and he shows clearly where Jung failed to be true to his own scientific method. How Jung contributes to spirituality, he says, is rather by "helping us to recognize inordinate projections and disoriented affections, than in orienting us positively to the God of Christian faith and to Christ"; for, in this area of faith, "Jung, I find, is quite deficient, and his thought derails him from the appropriate orientation to the real-ity of God" (858). Doran emphasizes that, if it is clear where Jung's thought fails, Jung's con(ributions can be much more fruitfully employed. And so he elaborates with a special concern for how a false appropriation of Jung can seriously affect an authentic discernment of spirits: 66.1 2007 Jackson ¯ Dreams in Prayer and Discernment Jung's theological ambiguities, and the alternative inter-pretations and evaluations that are offered of his work, are symptomatic of an underlying spiritual conflict that can be mediated only in the context of the dialectic of grace and of sin, of the standards of Christ and of Satan. David Burrell has indicated correctly that one cannot fail to meet God if one goes on the inner journey to individuation. But one will also meet much that is not God and that is even opposed to God. Not only does Jung not help one to discriminate these forces as they operate in the psyche, but he also contributes to and even encourages the confusion that can be experienced in such moments that call for discernment, and thus mires one in the conflictual forces that wage an ultimate battle in the depths of one's psyche. Jung's work, if left uncriticized, leads one into a psychological cul-de-sac that can assume demonic proportions. (499) Jung sees the issue of good and evil as something to be reconciled within the self, rather than acknowledging that the problem of evil remains and is not within our capacity to resolve. The only. solution can come from redemption, and redemption can come only from God, and God's exis-tence, knowledge, ~nd goodness are offered to us to be accepted or rejected: If we accept it, [it] will involve us in a whole new area of growth and transformation, an area which we would not even know in any explicit way if God had not come to meet us. This distinct area of development is related to our cognitional and mora.1 development. It is not the product of our knowing and our choosing. It is not something that we vainly imagine, or that we produce by wishful thinking. Rather, it is offered to our knowl-edge and our freedom as a gift. (501) Our acceptance of this gift means we are in the realm of "faith, which Lonergan defines as 'the eye of love,' the eye of the love that is ours, that is the atmosphere in which we live, when we know ourselves as uncondition- Review for Religious ally loved by, and rooted in, the love that is God's alone" (501). Any true attentiveness to dreams must take place in this context, where, as Rahner knew well in the tradition of Aquinas, "even in the direct vision of God, God will remain for us an incomprehensible mystery" (858). Now more than ever in history, says Doran with Rahner and Lonergan in the tradition of Ignatius, Christians long to see God and to know that God is the mystery that engulfs them and also to know what they are knowing and feeling. This, says Doran, involves not only self-transcendence, "an accepting of God's offer of both salvation and vocation," but also self-appropriation, which "is a matter of self-knowledge, of self-discovery, of self-understanding" in this acceptance (504) and which also constitutes for the Christian a commitment to prayer and discernment. He says that some factors of modern life make this self-appropriation necessary. His reason for seeing dreams as an important component in prayer and discernment, especially the discernment of spirits, is that they involve feelings, and, applying Lonergan's thought in the tradition of Ignatius, he says: To name one's feelings is to discover the dynamic images, the symbols, that are associated with them. To have insight into one's feelings is to understand the symbolic association. To tell one's stoW is to narrate the course of one's elemental symbolizing. And where does one's elemental symbolizing occur in its purest form, untainted by the biases that, in waking life, can lead us to distort our stow? The place . . . is in our dreams. It is in the dream that we first are conscious, and it is in the dream that we find a "stow" going for-ward that we cannot distort without being aware that we are doing so. If we want to know our "story"--the story of insight, the story of judgment, the stoW of decision, and the stoW of prayer--we can find it in our dreams. There is a psychic conversion that puts us into contact with that stoW. It affects us deeply once it has 66.1 2007 Jackson ¯ Dreams in Prayer and Discernment occurred. For it enables us to judge ourselves in our waking life as authentic or inauthentic in our pursuit of understanding, in our seeking of truth, in our decisions, and in our search for God. (510) Dreams offer one way of being attentive to this mystery that is God. The dreams from the lives of the saints come to mind, and their careful, caring, detached attentiveness to them serves as a model for all Christians committed to a life of prayer and discernment. Since a way is clear for an authentic use of Jung's con-tributions concerning dreams, how such contributions can be employed in the service of prayer and discern-ment should be regularly considered and shared. Maureen Dreams offeron way of being at tentiVe . to this mystery that i God.:. Conroy RSM attends to this question and begins to answer it (by reflect-ing on anima and animus in relation to desolation) in the final pages of her book where she reflects on contemporary issues in the ministry of spiri-tual direction (236-238). First and perhaps most important in aiding "the soul to rid itself of all inordinate attach-ments" (SpEx ~5), dreams can invite people to notice whether anything other than God is at the center of their life. Dreams brought to discernment can serve as personal parables, offered intimately by the Lord for the discerner to explore. Conroy gives instances where discerners on their own initiative mentioned dreams in speaking of their prayer difficulties. In one case, the dream helped the discerner realize that she was "playing God" by try-ing to control the events of her life at the time (182-183). In another case, the dreamer felt wounded by someone he may have been trying to substitute for God, a situa- Review for Religious tion causing unrecognized angers inside him (232). Both Conroy and William Barry SJ (God and You, 52-53) note that such emotions can block prayer. The dreams, then, would be ways that the Holy Spirit invites us to bring our lives to Christ. Kelsey reminds us that dreams come as "receptions"; in the New Testament, visitations are generally received with some fear--and with the message "Don't be afraid" (173). Dreams may offer the gift of spiritual consolation. In the final chapter of his Weeds among the Wheat, Thomas Green SJ describes a woman's dream after the death of her husband, a dream that is clearly a spiritual consolation for her (163-164). In the "afterglow" of the consolation, "it seemed to her that this experience of God's love, of confident hope in bereavement, could not be merely for herself alone, and that it must be the Lord's intention that she write about it and thus provide hope and strength to others similarly bereaved" (165). As Kelsey recounts the dream of St. Thdr~se of Lisieux (God, Dreams, 164), it is clear that her dream, too, was a gift of consolation from the Lord. Dreams can beg contemporary pray-ers to be listen-ers. Attending to dreams requires making time for listen-ing, and, in a culture where people are not easily "hit over the head" with Scripture (Shannon 8), dreams can teach us how to be more receptive to God's word. "Authentic silence," Shannon says, "is pregnant with words that will be born at the right time" (3). Authentic listening is con-nected to authentic vision; both are arts we need to cul-tivate if we wish to be open to the Holy Spirit. As Jules Toner SJ says in his commentary on being open to the Holy Spirit in the Spiritual Exercises, "there is a factor in openness to the Holy Spirit which . . . is closely related to readiness to seek counsel . Sometimes, even with-out our noticing it, one or other of [our] prejudgments 66.1 2007 Jackson ¯ Dreams in Prayer and Discernment 28 can play a major role in blinding us to the evidence for the decision to which the Holy Spirit is leading us" (96). Being open to the "evidence" of our dreams, and pray-ing for this openness, are authentic ways of becoming genuine listeners and persons of vision in every aspect of our lives. Dreams also can teach us to trust in the Lord. With dreams as with other data from our lives that we bring to discernment or direction, there are times when we simply cannot see and do not have the answers. The data of a dream may simply be too confusing or unclear. At these times discerners must wait and trust in the Lord. A renewed attention to dreams in Christian prayer and discernment is a way of true responsiveness, especially for laypersons, to the church's call to an authentic obedience. Thomas Green says that "religious congregations' ideas of common life and obedience have often been distorted in such a way as to canonize the annihilation of personality" (38). In our day, prayerful exploring of dreams may be unique expressions of the life of the Spirit in the church. This can be a new way for the laity to participate more integrally in the life of the church, a wonderful oppor-t- unity for a new level of sharing gifts. At the same time, we continue to be called to greater participation in the life of Christ, who Willingly took the cross so that we might share in his resurrection. If a greater attentiveness to dreams in prayer and discernment is going to achieve anything, may it be to give greater glory to God through a radical participation in the life of him who gave himself for us. Bibliography Barry, William A., SJ. God and You: Prayer as a Personal Relationship. New York: Paulist, 1987. Conroy, Maureen, RSM. The Discer~ting Heart: Discovering a Personal God. Chicago: Loyola, 1993. Review for Religious Cooper, Michael, SJ. "A Spirituality of Balance." In Spirituality in Depth: Essays in Honor of Sister h'ene Dugan RC, ed. Avis Clendenen. New York: Chiron Publications, 2004. Doran, Robert M., SJ. "Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality: I, II, and III." Review for Religious 38 (1979): 497-510, 742-752, and 857-866 respectively. Empereur, James L., SJ. "Dreams." In The New Dictionary of Catholic Spirituality, ed. Michael Downey. Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1993. Green, Thomas H., SJ. Weeds among the Wheat--Disce~vm~ent: Where Prayer and Action Meet. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1984. Kelsey, Morton T. God, Dreams, and Revelation: A Christian Interpretation of Dreams. Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1991. Shannon, William A. Seeking the Face of God. New York: Crossroad, 1988. Toner, Jules, sJ. Discerning God's Will: Ignatius of Loyola's Teaching on Christian Decision Making. St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1991. Reflection/Discussion Questions 1. What does it mean for me to listen to my dreams? 2. Have I had the experience of a dream influencing a significant change or decision in my life? What were the circumstances? 3. Can I relate to the statement "Dreams may offer the gift of spiritual consolation"? If so, let me review the experience. 66.1 2007 RENEE MIRKES Confessions of a Franciscan Ethicist perspectives Confessions are never easy. Typically, the stage is set by a .collage of eye-openers. In my case, the events that propelled me headlong into this pub-lic disclosure are interlaced with the common thread of what-it-means-to-be-a-Franciscan. First, some while ago, a new acquaintance of mine innocently asked, with clearly spoken ital-ics, "So, what's it like to be a Franciscan ethi-cist?" Second, for the last fifteen years or more I, together with all the members of my religious congregation, have been encouraged to immerse myself in, and be formed by, not only the ideals and vision of St. Francis of Assisi, but also the eponymous religious tradition fathered by him. And, third, while reading several months ear-lier Cardinal Ratzinger's 1996 address critiqu-ing moral relativism, I was revisited by an old uneasiness.~ I kept asking myself: Are you suffer- Ren6e Mirkes OFS, a Franciscan" Sister of Christian Charity, is ethics director at Paul Vl Institute; 6901 Mercy Road; Omaha, Nebraska 68106. Review for Religious ing from some kind of Franciscan schizophrenia or what? My difficulty, in a nutshell, was this. From one side, I was perfectly at peace with the fact that new pope's exposition confirmed me in the way I help my clients, students, and readers to identify the fallacies of moral subjecfivism. But, from another side, I was unsettled by realizing that my way, like the pope's, was not Franciscan in approach but Dominican and Thomistic. The first incident urges me to confess--t0 acknowl-edge- that until I was questioned I honestly never thought of making a practical connection between being an ethicist and being a Franciscan. The second experience encourages me to confess--t0 declare my si,l or failing--that I have dragged my feet when expressly recalling how Franciscan spirituality actually shapes the here-and-now manner in which I "do" ethics. The third episode prompts me to confess--t0 admit my belief--that Franciscans and Dominicans can learn a .lot from each other, specifically from the charisms of their respective traditions. For the details of this tripartite confession (and a summary critique of moral relativism to boot), I invite you to read on. I confess that I previously neglected to give seri-ous thought to whether my being a Franciscan could affect my ethics work. Learning from the lessons of life is a lot about making connections. And making con-nections is all about understanding what things mean. Before facing the question I began.with, I confess that "Franciscan" is not on.e of the adjectives I routinely used to describe my avocation. I was a Catholic ethicist; I was a Christia~? philosopher; I was an ethicist who is a vowed re/igio~ts. But I had just not taken that seemingly small step toward saying--and comprehending what it means to say--that I am a Francisca~z ethicist. In other words, before I did some careful analysis of the matter, being a 66.1 2007 Mirkes ¯ Confessions of a Franciscan Ethicist Franciscan was just a footnote of, rather than organically related to, my work as a vowed religious ethicist. So, wittingly or unwittingly, the questioner forced me to confront a real hiatus in my thinking and action. Why did I fail to connect the dots of being a Christian, an ethicist, and a Franciscan? The longer I thought about it, the more deeply convinced I became that the crux of my problem was not a rift between my avocation and vocation but my intellectual failure to link my Christian and consecrated-life vocations to my Franciscan calling. I was letting my Franciscan identity wither, and so it was not having its full effect on my life and apostolic work. Lacking attention from me, it was overshadowed by my Christian and religious vocations, becoming a dim sem-blance of what it should have been. Suddenly all those instructions I had received before and during my formation began flowing through my mind. To live as a Franciscan is to respond to Christ's call to follow him, to follow the universal call to holiness, the call I received at my baptism, the call to live and think with the church. To be a Franciscan sister is to incarnate the gospel life that inspired Francis to total discipleship through the vows: ."go and sell," "take nothing along," and "deny yourself." Hence, distinct but interrelated com-ponents simultaneously guide my following of Christ. I have dedicated myself to the evangelical call to holiness, to the long church tradition that draws on prayer and the authentic sources of Christian spirituality, on the recent instructions of the church on the vowed life, and on the particular lifestyle proposed by St. Francis of Assisi. There it was: the proper frame within which I could think anew about being Franciscan in my work as a Christian ethicist. And, for me, seeing Franciscan identity against its proper background was to understand, as if for the first time, its close relationship to my Christian and Review for Religious consecrated vocations. Within this frame, I understood why being a Franciscan is essential in my avocation, my vowed life's apostolic mission to be a Catholic ethicist. I confess that I had never given serious thought to the manner in which being Franciscan did, does, and will affect the way I do ethics. I am confessing here my past failure to explicitly recall the leaven of Franciscan values in the dough of my apostolic service. You see, I had forgotten to note their here-and-now effect, not so much on the content and method of my profes-sional activities, but on the style, manner, and spirit in which I do my work. Once I had explicitly adverted to that leaven, however, I realized I had here a virtu- '.tion on.,[rn .,iFra ci can Values ever more ous circle. Frequent meditation on my Franciscan values fostered an ever more Franciscan self. The more spirited my Franciscan heart, the greater likelihood its values-- continual conversion, poverty, humble "minority," and prayer--would be evident to those I serve.2 First, take the Franciscan charism of pove~-ty. Where every consecrated religious takes vows to live as the poor, chaste, and obedient Christ lived, followers of Francis embrace his special love for poverty. Note that, for il Poverello (the little poor one), poverty was a code word for living the gospel. As such, the vow encompassed not merely being monetarily and materially poor but also the more demanding challenge of imitating the kenosis, the radical self-emptying, of Jesus. For Franciscans, then, special esteem for the vow of poverty means asking for the grace to be formed into the image of the Servant- Lord who washed the feet of his disciples and gave up his 66.1 2007 Mirkes ¯ Confessions of a Franciscan Etbicist life out of love for sinners. For this Franciscan, then, the ethics consults that are "baked in the cake" of my every-day service afford me the precious gift of correcting and encouraging, praying with and, yes, sometimes sharing a good cry with, my clients, moving them ever more surely, moral choice by moral choice, toward their ultimate end of the Good. I frequently remind those who consult me that, because their love of the Truth and the Good is so profound, our exchange puts me in their debt. Indeed, these consultations provide me and them the double blessing of serving Christ in each other. Second, while every religious order requires its mem-bers to conform to Christ by living virtuously, Francis put humilit.y at the top of his list. Imitating Francis, I am called to give first place to the truth about myself as well as my abilities. The former lets me see that God can sing through this poor instrument as long as it is emptied of self; the latter helps me to know that all is gift. While it is true that God has blessed me with the ability to inspire people in their pursuit of the Good, I pray that my being a Franciscan shines through in the way I respond to acco-lades. After a lecture, for example, I always, but always, turn people to the real source of their inspiration: "Oh, I am so pleased you were moved by the truth of Humanae vitae! Isn't it a powerful document?" or "I see that the wisdom and holiness of Edith Stein really spoke to you. Thank God for the living witness of his saints." Third, all religious congregations encourage living in community as an explicit way to serve fellow religious and strengthen them in their service of the larger society. But Francis wanted friars and sisters to be minores, persons who lived together and claimed no special rule or domi-nation or power over anyone. Striving for that attitude as an ethics consultant, lecturer, and teacher, I provide knowledge and advice not in an imperative or domineer- Review for Religious ing way, not in a manner that makes nay moral authority felt, but in a way that appeals to the freedom and dignity of others. In doing so, I reflect and "preach" the value of "minority" by being submissive to those I serve for the sake of God. Fourth, where the church has always encouraged reli-gious to a deep conversion and self-emptying, St. Francis insisted that penance/continual conversion take primacy of place in the mindset and practice of his followers. Pursuant to a Franciscan vocation, the disposition of metanoia means letting one-self be totally cap-tured by Christ. It means unremitting movement toward the Good and avoid-ance of evil. These are the very desires I continually try to foster in those I serve. Frequently I exhort couples, "You will be tempted to give up, to cease wanting to convert to the Lord in the midst of challenging procreative issues. But resist the quick fix 'solutions' of contraception, ster-ilization, abortion, and IVF. The trade-off for expediency in these matters is an attenuated spousal relationship, a weakened family bond, and lost opportunities to lay down one's life for the other out of love." Finally, from his lived experience of the gospel, Francis understood that love must include mission. To demonstrate this he turns our attention to Mary, the per-fect disciple. Francis's way of being Marian was to emu-late the boundless love of Mary for her Son, love which flowed into the spiritual and corporal works of mer#. . Francis God ~ombats evil through holy~,-rn~n and: women, ~ ,.~.aro~gh tho~ who are dedicated 66.1 2007 Mirkes ¯ Confessions of a Franciscan Etbicist encourages every follower of his to frequently recall the scene of Mary standing beneath the cross, standing in the center of the struggle between good and evil, reminding all--but especially a female Franciscan ethicist like me-- that God combats evil through holy men and women, through those who are dedicated to instructing the ignorant by teaching morality. I confess my belief that today's moral climate requires me to morph into a hybrid ethicist: a Franciscan-Thomist. Recall that my uneasiness with the pope's response to moral relativism was largely because his position--and mine--were in the Aristotelian-Thomistic tradition rather than in the Franciscan tradition. If we had sought a Franciscan answer, it would have come from Bonaventure or his theological successors, Duns Scotus or William of Ockham. Had these men fought a heresy of relativism in their day, they would characteristically have appealed to a voluntarist solution. That is, the best way to avoid the errors of relativism comes from the Platonic way of understanding universal truth, namely, participation in innate ideas. In sum, to avoid the intellectual pride all too easily associated with philosophical speculation, these Franciscan theologians would have insisted that people do best by simply submitting their wills to the universal moral truth brokered by the church's magisterium. The Franciscan/Augustinian solution to moral relativism, then, would not have included rational arguments that yield a reason why people should submit their wills to the church's objective moral teaching.3 Against this background, I take personal solace from a central theme of the pope's theology (which is Augustinian, after all): the need to return to reason as a first step in combating moral relativism. The pope proposes, not naked reason, but reason purified by faith--or clarified by the God who is Logos, who is reason and the Word. A Review for Religious faith that opens people to the living God "liberates reason from its blind spots" so it can be "more fully itself.''4 Implicit in Benedict xvI's critique of relativists--those who contend that judgments about good or bad, right or wrong, are time-and-circumstance matters of personal opinion--is his reliance on Aquinas's philosophical vision of human nature and its transcultural basic needs.5 Since all persons unhampered by ideology, bias, or intellectual sloth can see that these natural needs/goods apply to every human being irrespective of time and culture, they should also agree that these goods ought always be pursued and honored and never denied or suppressed. With these objective human goods in mind, one can set up a series of syllogisms whose conclusions define them as objectively true and universally normative--employ-ing a first premise that has the certitude of self-evident truth and a second premise that cites an observed datum about human nature.6 The following example focuses on the human good of life. First premise: self-evidently, all human beings ought to do all those things and only those things that are really good for them. Second premise: as experience demonstrates, being alive is really good for human beings. Conclusion: every human being ought to seek life and vitality. When we apply this syllogistic argument to other human goods such as wealth, family, procreation, friends, society, play, and the higher goods of wisdom, worship, and contemplation, a set of goods emerges that is not relativist, that is, good for this or that person because of his or her desires or cultural pref-erences, but objectivist and universal, that is, good for all human beings whatever the time and circumstances. Furthermore, since all human beings have a right to this set of real goods, they also have a duty to require legisla-tures and judiciaries to enact and uphold laws forbidding their destruction or suppression. 66.1 2007 Mirkes * Confessions of a Franciscan Ethicist Pope Benedict XVI understands why a Dominican and Thomist solution to moral relativism is the way to go. It offers a discussion matrix within which to address the many fellow pilgrims of his who, by dint of being mari-nated in the skepticism and moral relativism of our day, require cogent persuasiveness for submitting to universal moral norms. And so I must be Aristotelian and Thomist in the content of my moral methods, all the while endeav-oring to have the Franciscan spirit shine through the way I do ethics.7 To conclude, then, I need only repeat my opening statement: "Confessions are never easy." But I can honestly add that this tripartite confession has con-tributed mightily to the lived mission of this Christian, religious, and F~:anciscan ethicist. Notes ~ Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, "Relativism: The Central Problem for Faith Today," available through http://www.ewtn.com. See also The Ratzhlger Repo~7 (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1985); Priuciples of Christian Morality (Ignatius Press, German 1975, English 1986); Without Roots (New York: Basic Books, 2006), and Values in a Time of Upheaval (Ignatius Press, 2006). 2 For an historical analysis of Franciscan charisms, I recommend an article by Raffaele Pazzelli TOR on Franciscan spirituality at www.fran-ciscanfriarstor. com/vocations. Mso the commentary at another section of the same website: www.franciscanfriarstor.com/resources. -~In the 13th century, the Dominican Albert the Great produced vast commentaries on Aristotle. In them Albert took full account of the work of the great Aristotelian translator and commentator Averroes (Ibn Rushd), while not neglecting to cgrrect his anti-Christian errors, hnportantly, Mbert began to clarify, why Aristotle criticized Plato. The latter had a dualistic notion of the human person that made a correct theory of the human body impossible. It was, however, only with Albert's pupil Thomas Aquinas that this point was fully developed. Unfortunately, Aquinas's work got confused with Averroism in the list of propositions condemned by the archbishop of Paris in 1277. As a result the Franciscans thought it best to retain their dedication to St. Augustine and to minimize the influ-ence of philosophy on theology. This is evident in the great works of St. Bonaventure, who tended to think of philosophy as a pagan tradition and Review for Religious strove to keep theology free of the errors of that tradition. Later Blessed John Duns Scotus and V~illiam of Ockham made more use of Aristotle, hut still remained skeptical of the power of human reason. Consequently--and tragically--the Franciscan and Dominican traditions were never recon-ciled. Ockham became a Nominalist and finally schismatic, and his distrust of reason to prove the existence of God was basic to Luther's thought and the split in the church brought about in the Protestant Reformation. 4 Pope Benedict XVI, Deus Caritas Est, §29. SMortimer Adler, Adler's Philosophical Dictionary (New York: Touchstone Books, 1995), p. 13. Perhaps the most egregious example of judicial moral relativism is encapsulated in the opinion of Justice Anthony Kennedy in Planned Parenthood v. Casey: "At the heart of liberty, is the right to define one's own concept of existence, of the meaning of the universe, and of the mystery of human life." (' Mortimer Adler, Ten Philosophical Mistakes (New York: Touchstone Books, 1985), p. 126. Y The Franciscan tradition has made great theological contributions to the church: the understanding of the doctrine of Mary's Assumption, St. Bonaventure's reflection of the Trinity. in creation, remarkable advances in natural science in the 14th and 15th centuries, and influential tracts on spirituality. On the other hand, as regards the theology of the body and virtue theory in ethics, the Dominican Thomas Aquinas has been con-stantly praised as the Common Doctor of the church. Since I work princi-pally in bioethics, I use his contribution and assimilate it to my Franciscan tradition in a harmonious, and not merely eclectic way. I encourage more Franciscans to do research in this field. Franciscan humility, it seems to me, demands as much. 66.1 2007 COLLEEN MARY MALLON Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue To recent experiences frame my reflection on pe in a global world. Recently, as part of a theo-logical update program for our diocese, I spoke on the Spirit and the chui'ch, focusing on themes that emerge from Yves Congar's great work I Believe in the Holy Spirit. Following the presentations, a number of the participants told of having new sources of hope opened up to them. I, too, was struck by the longing of these faith-filled minis-ters to connect to a vital and vibrant hope, to be deeply, ecclesia@ alive in the Spirit, and to share that life with others. There were charisms in that room that, wisely nurtured and supported, could set the diocese ablaze with the Spirit. Clearly, the desert is seeded; with more water, what a riot of flowers there would be. My second experience comes from St. John's University in New York, where I teach the introductory Colleen Mary Mallon OP first presented this essay as a talk on 21 April 2006 at Molloy College's Women of Spirit symposium. She is assistant professor of theology and religious studies at St. John's University; 8000 Utopia Parkway; Jamaica, New York 11439. Review for Religious course in theology. Early in the semester the students discuss Marcus Borg's explication of religious faith. Borg speaks about faith as assensus, intellectual affirmation, fiducia, complete trust, fidelitas, loyalty, and visio, how a person perceives the world from the perspective of faith.~ In each class the difficulty is not faith as trust or loyalty; it is faith as vision. Their vision of faith is stymied by the suffering, the struggle, and the pain that they encounter in the world. At best they hold a cautious hope that God might be at work in it all, but for most of them we live in a thoroughly indifferent universe. The fundamental faith/ hope in a gracious universe is all but nonexistent. These experiences press me to reexamine my own sources and senses of hope. With what theological visio do I see the present moment? How do I bear witness to gospel hope in these times: war in Iraq, worldwide trafficking of women and children, irruption of sectar-ian violence, the ever escalating divide between the have-mores and have-nots, the continuation of white privilege. And, closer to the bone, how do I claim a gospel hope in a church beset by the scandals of abuse and neglect, by clericalism, and by the antipathies of diverse members of the Body of Christ. My search for a response to these questions brought me back into the work and thinking of the French Dominican theologian and ecclesiologist Yves Congar. His experience of intense social, political, and ecclesial upheaval tempered his own sober confidence in the church as the continuing event of Jesus Christ in the world. I believe his perspective brings gospel hope and historical reality into a fertile, albeit tensive, dynamic. He and other French Dominicans contributed in no small way to the refashioning of theology in the 20th century. Their pertinence to wise theological vision in a global world is not to be overlooked. Using a feminist methodology which asserts that 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue "God is be discovered in human experience," let us look at the hungers and obstacles that we face at this time both as individuals and as members of a diverse and complex Christian tradition.2 Seeking what the Divine Presence desires of us at this time is, I believe, the very stuff of engaged discipleship. Discerning how contradictions and struggles mark our ecclesial experiences calls for both vir-rue and skill. I propose that the virtue is hope and that the skills include practices and behaviors that witness to our hope and even expand the horizon of our own gospel faith. If we listen carefully to what lies beneath our experiences so as to attend to the Mystery--infinitely beyond and yet intimately present to our present--we may encounter, even in "the incomplete" and "the lack," a power and a grace worthy of our freedom. I want to sketch a little more thoroughly thesigns of these global times and then turn to Yves Congar for his theological vision, for how it may inspire hope in the church today. The Signs of These Global Times There is no lack of scholarly analysis of globalization and the religious questions that emerge from the unprec-edented movement of people, ideas, and commodities.3 I want to look at the challenges that living in "glocal" presents.4 The anthropologist Roland Robertson uses the term "glocal" for the juncture where the global and local meet.5 Our contemporary experience of this global-local situation is a significant historical factor in our lives today. This is where we discern signs of the times and make decisions as disciples of Jesus. The theologian David Tracy is famous for the claim that we live in an age that cannot name itself.6 Our global-human existence contains such conflicting world-views that no one way, no single story, can hold us as a human family. Moreover, the very stories that perceive Review for Religious individuals and communities in significant patterns have become mobile. Peoples once geographically distinct are now mixing, interacting, and living in patterns that may be completely foreign to their nextdoor neighbor. Sociologists and anthropologists tell us that we, as global residents, are experiencing "flows" of people, resources, and information in ways never before experienced on the planet.7 Dual factors, media and migration, cause the global experience of compression and expansion? We experience global compression whenever we become aware of the nar-rowed space between once distant geographic entities. Exotic strangers now live close to each other in global cities that have drawn peoples together for a host of different reasons: as tourists, as migrant workers, as refugees, as executive elites. Globalization is reshaping our economic, political, and cultural worlds, and this brings a variety of ways of perceiving and evaluating the production of today's tech-nologically sophisticated societies.9 The flow of the classic Enlightenment notions of "democracy," "freedom," and "sovereignty" into new global spaces stirs in them new instances of these Western ideas. What would "democ-racy" look like for women'in a predominantly Shiite Iraq? What does the "sovereignty" of a Palestinian state, led by a newly elected Hamas government, mean for the established national states of the world? In truth, there is no longer one kind of modernity; many modernities are competing around the globe.~° These observations point to the growing tension between the global and the local which Roland Robertson describes as the "contemporary manifestation of the universal-particular dilemma.''~1 We 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue live in a world where we truly grasp universals (such as freedom, peace, prosperity) only in particular instances. And there seems to be no end of particulars; we keep discovering uniqueness, singularities, and individualities. We have come to accept, in a sense, one universal: that there are limitless particularities.~2 As Christians we recognize something of this dilemma in the wide range of our ecclesial experiences: the rise of local, base communities of gospel reflection, the renewed focus on particular denominational identities (what does it mean to be a Catholic college or university or hospital?), young people's search for their Christian identity, the rise of religious fundamentalism. Even the concerns regarding the proper role of local episcopal conferences expresses this global-local tension. The question of subsidiarity and collegiality is a much different question today than it was forty years ago at Vatican II. The experience of great diversity raises new questions about the "taken-for-grantedness" of the underlying unity of humanity. Various interpretative frameworks and femi-nist, postcolonial, and postmodern sensibilities foster a new global consciousness of "the other" and "difference." Indigenous stories, newly valorized, emerge on the global scene and inspire local resistance to ideas from outside; these "new primordialisms," freshly reshaped and refash-ioned cultural identities, whet deep appetites for mean-ing and consequence that seemingly transcend, for some people, their own existence.~3 Suicide bombers testify in ways we never expected to the power of meaning in human lives. Disconnected in their storied worlds from wider significance, people become anxious, aggravated, even deadly. New claims for authoritative traditions raise all sorts of questions about identity and symbols and whether our belonging to a particular group prohibits other kinds of Review for Religious belonging. It is in these particularisms that we often expe-rience the tensions of our ecclesial life. Can I be a Catholic and a Democrat? Can I be a feminist and "pro-life"? Like the world we are inescapably a part of, our ecclesial iden-tifies feel the pressure of the global-local predicament and challenges to past certitudes. As these new horizons open, our shared understandings of the gospel cross over into disputed spaces of lived experiences. Within those spaces there appears to be diminishing tolerance among us. Our particular community niche imposes limits on both our imaginations and our practices of tolerance. Many within the church find it increasingly difficult to engage in civil conversations across the wide diversity of perspectives. As the theologian Joseph Komonchak noted in an address to the Catholic Common Ground Initiative, "to judge from a few Internet discussions., many Catholics could learn a thing or two about elementary courtesy, about how to listen and how to speak, about give and take.''14 What hope can we have for a truly "catholic" future when our practice of dialogue mirrors the enclave mentality of our global world? Yves Congar's Incarnational Approach What might a thoroughly 20th-century, white, European, friar-preacher and theologian offer in support of hope in these times? Congar's incarnational, historical approach to theology certainly contributed to the theol-ogy in his day. Early in his theological vocation, Congar understood that he was called to serve the unity of a pain-fully divided Christian community.is Within this call grew his conviction that the dominant mode of doing theology was unnecessarily abstract and all too disconnected from the lives of ordinary people.16 His approach to theology developed from his fraternal relationships with Marie Dominic Chenu and Henri Ma]'ie Feret. Living and 66.1 2007 Mallon * Reclaiming Hope, Recovetqng Dialogue teaching at the French Dominican studium Le SaulchoiT; these three Dominicans plotted the demise of what they called "baroque theology." Congar recalls a particular day when they conceived of a research project on the history of theology. One day, chatting at the entrance of the old Saulchoi,; we found ourselves in profound accord--at once intel-lectual, vital, and apostolic--on the idea of undertaking a "liquidation of baroque theology." This was a moment of intense and total spiritual union . It was not a question of producing something negative: the rejections were only the reverse of aspects that were more positive. One day the balance will be drawn up, but already the positive quality can be sensed. What would a little later be called "ressourcement" was then at the heart of our efforts. It was not a matter either of mechanically replac-ing some theses by other theses or creating a "revolu-tion" but of appealing, as P4guy says, from one tradition less profound to another more profound.~7 This historical approach, learned at Le Saulchoh" and prac-ticed throughout his life, allowed Congar to develop a theology that was more deeply rooted in revelation and at the same time open to the pressing questions of the 20th century.~s It is Congar's approach to revelation that I believe is a critical point of departure. Many theologians regard Congar as the foremost expert on the Christian tradition, and anyone engaged in a theology of tradition cannot pro-ceed without Congar. Some contemporary scholars have noted that, while Congar's view of tradition is stunningly comprehensive, it lacks a necessary attention to the way in which meaning and power are inexorably intertwined. One theologian calls Congar's approach highly idealistic.~9 I have wrestled with this critique because, in some sense, it is a legitimate one. Clearly, Congar missed the post-modern critique of power/knowledge, and his very small Review for Religious reflections on women in relation to ministry and God-language betray his incomplete grasp of feminist concerns and questions.2° I do believe, however, that Congar's intu-ition concerning revelation and history is still significant because it is a profoundly catholic intuition. By this I mean that part of Congar's genius is his confi-dence in the fertile ground found at the intersection of the gospel and the ultimate concerns of people. As I read his theological project, I believe that the starting point of the-ology for Congar is the God-human relationship. Only in and through this relation-ship is knowledge of God possible: a relationship initiated and realized in history, in specific bodies, within unique and diverse human cultures. To make the God-human relation-ship the starting point ointp theologyfor Congar is the ,;, !GOd h :r an Telationship. of theology is to refuse to dissolve the tension between transcendence and immanence; it is, in fact, to claim that tension is integral to our graced existence in this world, in these bodies, at this time in history. I believe that this is a remarkable source of hope for us today. The mind-numb-ing, spirit-quenching materialism of much of our world has laid us low. Our own mystery as beings-made-for-love-and- truth is threatened by the pervasive consumerism that warps our sense of what it means to be human and happy. Our wishes are marketed to us as needs, things we lack are represented to us as inalienable rights, our unwise choices are blindly considered joys of freedom. The God-human Relationship To make the God-human relationship the starting point of our reflection is to reclaim both history and mys- 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue tery, and to do so in a way that is not naively romantic nor overconfident either, overreaching our finitude as crea-tures. If we allow materialism to flatten our perceptions, we lose the .meanings and values that animate our worlds of sight and sound, the very worlds through which the Divine Life communicates. In the words of Congar, "the regenerative power that will finally operate is already at work in our world, transiently, precariously, fragmentarily, and generally unperceived.''2~ This power is nothing less than the life of God poured out so that all may have life in its fullness (Jn 10:10). The "good news" manifest in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus makes explicit this divine intention for all creation, overcoming every possible alienation, division, obstacle, and separation. For Congar, this is the heart of the incarnation. God's involvement with creation is utterly personal and pro-foundly existential. "God is not the 'eternal celibate of the centuries,' but love and goodness," who creates beings "animate[d] . . . with a movement and., a desire that is an echo in them of [God's] own desire . . . revealed to us as [God's] spirit.''22 48 The Gift and Task of Discipleship For Congar, we cannot speak properly of the human outside the graced relationship that has called all creation into existence for the divine purposefulness that is agapic love. To be human is to have as gift what grace alone brings to completion.23 For Christians, the deepest, truest realization of the project called "humanity" is in receiving the embrace of a Trinity-imbued life; nothing less than the Word and the Spirit continue to effect the fulfillment of "all things in God.''24 And this fulfillment is not some-thing abstract or ethereal. "The Spirit makes it possible for us to know, recognize, and experience Christ. This is not simply a doctrinal statement. It is an existential reality Review for Religious which comes from a gift and involves us in our lives.''2s Our lives, lived Godward, immerse us in the Christian mystery that is simultaneously a gift received and a task entrusted. For Congar, the gift character of Christian life lies in Jesus' mystery becoming our mystery.-'6 Our immer-sion into Christ makes us new creation, or, as Joseph Komonchak says, "Faith discloses a new world of great depth and breadth and a new self within it.''27 In a global world where the media and the Internet hawk lifescripts to eager, vulnerable consumers, we must not lose sight of the liberating gift disclosed in Jesus; we must never forget Jesus' attractiveT~ess. Through his life, death, and resurrection, we encounter the agapic love that alone is worthy of our freedom. Moreover, we touch upon what Gustavo Gutidrrez has called the first step of all theo-logical reflection: adoration.28 The gift character of our discipleship opens us to God's utterly gratuitous love for all creation. Our only adequate response is the searingly silent gratitude of the mystic heart. To be found by this love is to find ourselves in a new relationship with all of reality, and to allow it to govern our existence both individually and communally, as both mystery and history. The gift given in revelation and received in our very being discloses to us the potential within all creation. We can only know a small part of this all-surpassing gift, but the task entrusted to us, to realize the potential of our graced existence, is of utmost importance for humanity. Our global-local world teaches us that particularity counts, that only in the bodies and histories and cultures of actual, unique persons can the transformation of the whole happen. The gift inspires the task. The gift of God's agapic love points and directs us towards the places where mercy, peace, justice, and reconciliation ache to be realized. Our 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue hope does not lie in some perfect world without the great risks that our freedom in history poses. Our hope lies in our unflinching reliance on the gift of the Spirit as we humbly and confidently put our freedom at the service of in some perfect wqrld without the great risks our freedom in history po eS.- the Love that has called us into existence. We recognize today, more than any other time, just how difficult that is. Our freedoms are conditioned by diverse worlds of meaning, some of which do not easily or comfortably coexist. We acknowledge an exasperating pluralism: global technologies that isolate just as much as they bridge. What ways of being disciples might help our hope and deepen Love's grasp, of our lives? Can diverse Christian reflections on the meaning of Jesus speak to each other? Can we practice curiosity and abstain from obstinate judgments? To imagine our discipleship as gift and task in a global world demands, I believe, a new asceticism that curbs our penchant to overindulge in communities of like-mindedness, that calls us to be different from nar-rowly framed groups around us, that calls us to the hard work of dialogical communion, expressed in new practices of ecclesial hospitality. The Task of Dialogical Communion There are behaviors and skills that can show widely that "the regenerating power that will finally operate is already at work in our world." There are disciplines that, if embraced, can witness to human life as dialogical communion. The diversity of the cosmos is authored and authorized by the Source of all life, in whose Mystery Review for Religious diversity poses no threat to unity. In the divine economy, unity stimulates diversity. The gift inspires the task. Dialogical communion challenges us to attend to how the Spirit continues to communicate God's life in and through our historical unity, a unity that is more than mere uniformity. Emerging from enclave mentalities into the liminal spaces of dialogue is, indeed, risky, business. Transgressing the boundaries of worlds of shared commitments and understandings takes great courage, and not only because of the encounter with difference. In a recent talk at St. John's University, Gerry Adams, leader of the Sein Fein party, spoke of the Irish Peace Process. The single most important element of the peace process, according to Adams, is dialogue: getting people to step out of their hard-fought divisions and to speak to each other. But Adams insists that the hardest dialogue is not with the perceived enemy; it is with your own group. Transgressing the boundaries of our habitation disturbs our communi-ties of like-mindedness. We put our identity at risk; our loyalties may be questioned; we may seem to have lost our regard for once-shared values and visions; we may be accused of undermining the very distinctiveness of our group. And we may become agents of change: midwives to the gestating life of redeemed humanity. If our diversity is no mistake, if our global-human condition confronts us, not only with challenges, but with the deep truth that our differences and particularities are the only way we have to express our essential humanity, then we will have to practice a new ldnd of countercultur-alism. When we become aware that the very diversity that delights God troubles and disturbs us, we have stepped into a moment ripe for conversion. I have the privilege of being a board member of the Parable Conference, an organization whose purpose is to make space for dialogue 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue Embracing the task Of_ dialogical commun_ion mopes us from false impressions and prejudgment~ to respect and curiosity. among all the branches of the Dominican family in the United States. No other entity for that dialogue exists in the United States. I remember the moment when I saw how mistaken my perceptions of the Dominican laity were. My prejudgment was an obstacle mercifully revealed and dispelled by new relationships with women and men whose embrace of the Dominican charism is truly inspiring. The Parable Conference struggles to keep the dia-logue alive among U.S. Dominicans; it is not an easy task. Ideology, apathy, and enmity challenge our attempts to be in authentic communion across the wide scope of the Dominican .family. Yet the very existence of this group is a good example of the order's preaching charism. Without the witness of an actual, historical community struggling to hold and engage the truths emerging from diverse God experiences, our words are empty and ~ our witness a mere shadow of what it could be. Embracing the task of dia-logical communion moves us from false impressions and prejudgments to respect and curiosity. In a contentiously divided global world, the practice of dialogical commu-nion bears witness every time we risk the hospitable effort to "make space" for each other. In his book Exc&sion and Embrace, the Lutheran theo-logian Miroslav Volf writes, "The will to give ourselves to others and 'welcome them,' to readjust our identities to make space for them, is prior to any judgment., except that of identifying them in their humanity.''29 When I attended Good Friday services last April, I observed a Review for Religious couple in the pew ahead of me struggle to "make space." It was an odd scene, because clearly there was enough space for everyone in the pew. For some reason, however, the woman-already-seated would not move all the way over; when another couple arrived, they had to practically sit on each other. I waited, thinking she would see the problem and adjust, move over just a bit more. No. She looked, made a fussy little head movement, and remained; eventually the intruding couple sat elsewhere. Then she moved over! Now there was plenty of space, and a few minutes later two others filled the pew. Why is it so hard to make space? Why is hospitality so difficult at times? I do not pretend to have a simple answer. I only know that there is a simple answer, and that this incident serves as a parable about the demands of dialogical communion. We need to secure a place where dialogue can happen. We have to cultivate the skills and disciplines that allow for the dignified existence of oth-ers. Without this space we risk the loss of real encounter and the grace it may hold for us. We lose an opportunity to witness to an authentic faith-filled visit, a gospel hope worthy of our fragile freedom. Congar reminds us that theology is not a deadly repetition of neatly worked out dogmatic statements. Disconnected from the existential reality of "someone's living thought," theology "will not bear its fruit.''3° We stand in danger, today, of losing that precious space where we respectfully, thoughtfully, and critically engage the "living thought" of someone else. Dialogical communion might be thought of as the inten-tional practice of hospitality towards those with whom we may not fully agree, or simply do not understand. People securing space for the complex and contrasting truths that emerge from deep diversities are signs of these times: "deep diversity" calls for an equally deep curiosity.3! 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue If our starting point remains the God-human rela-tionship, then we will be convinced that Mystery touches us only in history. The truth that embraces us in each encounter with the God of life is one, but its manifesta-tions are multiple. Indeed, genuine engagement of the God-human relationship continues to yield wise and chal-lenging expressions of Christian discipleship: the irrup-tion of the poor into history and the holistic vision of the reign of God as presented in theologies of libera-tion, the gospel reflection of women bringing forth new constructive theologies and the prophetic link with eco-logical consciousness and responsibility, the theologies of human rights that seek out space where diverse religions may work together for peace and the dignity of human life, and the emerging reflection on the other face of rac-ism, namely, white privilege and continuing exclusion of people of color. These truths of discipleship call us to examine anew the precious gift of our graced and historically precarious human existence. They call for a deeper asceticism and humility; they inspire a wondrous reverence for God and a curiosity about the things of God. They invite us to sus-pend our judgments so as to make space for each other and, in the very act of "maki~g space," encounter the God, who does more in us and with us than we can ask or imag-ine (Ep 3:20). "Making space" may well be the greatest and most fruitful spiritual discipline we can practice as a global church so as to be genuinely attentive to the Spirit in a world newly awakened to its divinely conceived diversity. Hope lies in our courageous and sober confidence in the Spirit's power to bring all that is God's to fullness. In the spaces where fragile human hearts meet the Love and Truth that alone overcomes all alienation, there is the hope for a different kind of history, a different kind of humanity. The gift inspires the task. Shall we take up the task? Review for Religious Notes ~ Marcus Borg, "Faith: The \a, ray of the Heart," in The Heart of Christianity: Rediscovering a Life of Faith (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 2004), pp. 25-42. 2 Mary Catherine Hilkert, "Tradition and Experience," in Freeing Theology: The Essentials of Theology in Feminist Perspective, ed. Catherine Mowry LaCugna (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1993), p. 60. 3 For an overview of the many facets of the phenomenon of glo-balization, see The Globalization Reader; ed. Frank J. Lechner and John Boli (Maiden, Mass.: Blackwell, 2000), and Patrick O'Meara, Howard D. Mehlinger, and Matthew Krain, eds., Globalization and the Challenges of a New Centmy: A Reader (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2000). 4 See Robert J. Schreiter, The New Catholicity: Theology between the Global and the Local (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1997). s Roland Robertson, "Glocalization: Time-Space and Homogeneity- Heterogeneity," in Global Mode, v,ities, ed. Scott Lash and Roland Robertson (London: SAGE, 1995). ~ David Tracy, On Naming the Present (New York: Orbis Books, 1994), p. 3. 7 See in particular Arjun Appadarai's seminal essay "Disjuncture and Difference in the Global Cultural Economy," in Mode~vtity at Large: Cultural Dimensions of Globalization (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota, 1996), pp. 27-47. s See in particular Robert Schreiter, "Globalization and the Contexts of Theology," in his New Catboliciq, pp. 1-27. 9 See Saskia Sassen, Globalization and Its Discontents: Essays on the New Mobiliq of People and Money (New York: New Press, 1998). ~0 Mike Featherstone, Undoing Culture: Globalization, Postmode~ism, and Identity (London: SAGE Publications, 1995). ~ Roland Robertson, Globalization: Social Theory and Global Culture (London: SAGE Publications, 1992), p. 100. 1, As Roland Robertson expresses it, "there is virtually no limit to particularity, to uniqueness, to difference, to otherness." Robertson, Globalization, p. 102. ~3 See in particular Benedict Anderson, hnagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationali.~n (London: Verso, 1991). ~4 Joseph Komonchak, "Is Christ Divided? Dealing with Diversity and Disagreement," Origins 33 (9): 140-147. ~ In a number of interviews, Congar traced his lifelong devotion to the unity the Christian churches to a siugular moment of contemplation. "It was while meditating upon the seventeenth chapter of St. John's Gospel 66.1 2007 Mallon ¯ Reclaiming Hope, Recovering Dialogue that I clearly recognized my vocation to work for the unity of all who believe in Jesus Christ." Yves Congar, Dialogue between Christians: Catholic Contributions to Ecumenism, trans. Philip Loretz SJ (London: Geoffrey Chapman, 1966), p. 3. ~'~ "We are too prone to be satisfied with a dogma in itself, which has not to be worked out but is all laid down in the catechism or the theologi-cal manuals. We retail it, we are purveyors of orthodox theology, and that is all. We are in the process of finding that a dogma must be someone's dogma or someone's living thought, otherwise it will not bear its fruit." Yves Congar, Priest and Layman (London: Darton, Longman, & Todd, 1967), p. 209. ~7 Yves Congar, "The Brother I Have Known," The Thomist, 49 (4): 495-503. 1~ For an excellent essay on Congar's life as a theologian, see Etienne Fouilloux, "Friar Yves, Cardinal Congar, Dominican: History of a Theologian," U.S. Catholic Historian 17 (2). ~9 Vincent Miller, "History. of Geography? Gadamer, Foucault, and Theologies of Tradition," in Theology and the New Histories, ed. Gary. Macy (Maryknolh Orbis Books, 1999), pp. 56-85. 20 Congar, however, was not in any sense na'ive with regard to abuses of power, particularly in his ongoing concern for a dialogical church. "In polemics., or in any form of controversy devoid of dialogue, I interpose my own personal power, or rather that of a social formation whose views I am defending, such as a nation, a church, a culture, a social group or class, or a nexus of collective interests. Certain questions, such as that of colonialism in its most absolute form, might be approached from this point of view." Congar, Dialogue between Christians, p. 55. :~ Yves Congar, Lay People in the Church, trans. Donald Atwater (~'Vestminster, Maryland: Newman Press, 1957), p. 86. 22 Yves Congar, 1 Believe in the Holy Spirit, Vol. 2, He Is Lord and Giver of Life, trans. David Smith (New York: Seabury Press, 1983), p. 67. ~3 Yves Congar, This CT;urch That I Love, trans. Lucien Delafuente (Denville, New Jersey: Dimension Books, 1969). 24 Congar, I Believe, vol. 2, p. 12. 's Congar, I Believe, vol. 2, p. 37. z6 Congar, Lay People, p. 57. 27 Komonchak, "Is Christ Divided?" p. 76. :s The "adoration of God and the doing of God's will are necessary. conditions for thinking about God." Gustavo Guti~rrez, The T~vah Shall Set You Free: Conf!'ontations, trans. MatthewJ. O'Connell (Maryknolh Orbis Books, 1990), p. 55. Review for Religious 2,; Miroslav Volf, Exclusion and Emb~wce: A Theological Exploration of Identity, Otberness, and Reconciliation (Nashville: Abingdon, 1996), p. 29. 30 Congar, Priest and Layman, p. 209. 3~ See Charles Taylor's discussion of "deep diversity" in "Shared and Divergent Values," in his Reconciling the Solitudes: Essays on Canadian Federalism and Nationalism (Montreal/Kingston: McGill-Queen's University Press, 1993), pp. 155-186. Personal Reflection/Group Discussion In today's church do I find in myself a growing inability to listen and to dialogue with others about my own beliefs and values? What can I do to develop a more tolerant attitude in myself and so help others to become more tolerant? Do I understand dialogical cornmunion? What are some of the challenges ! would face with the people with whom I live and work? 66.1 2007 ROSE HOOVER Why Do We Gather? A Journey Together community We live in an age when young adults rarely consider religious life an option for themselves. Are we dinosaurs with primordial behavior pat-terns? Do we know why we come together in religious communities in this day and age--or in any day and age? There are varieties of commu-nity, but in this article I simply want to reflect on religious community's purpose, whether we are talking about community under one roof or community in a broader sense that does not nec-essarily mean living together. Why do we gather together? For example, are we brought together as religious for the pur-pose of a particular task? Do we form commu-nity for thesake of the ministry we do? Many people get together for special endeavors and enjoyments--music groups and sports teams, for example. Some groups even live together, like Rose Hoover RC last wrote for this journal in March-April 1992. Her address is Cenacle Sisters; 505 Northeast 5th Avenue; Gainesville, Florida 32601. Review for Religious the ad hoc assemblages on some reality shows. We too have tasks we desire to accomplish, tasks not only pre-cious to us but valuable for the people of God. We know that good community life can help us in our ministries. But is ministry the reason we come together? Today other people do the same ministries we do, and do them just as well, without being members of religious communi-ties. If religious community is for the purpose of carrying out ministry, and if the ministry no longer necessitates coming together in community, then is our gathering as consecrated religious also unnecessary? What about forming relationships? There was a lot of talk a few years ago about relational communities as distinct from task-ori-ented communities. A quick Internet search shows that concept to be far from dead today. As Christians we are indeed called to be in relationship both with God and with other ~ i."~ W:~t~hou~t~:i')ood "rdationships, ,- iydividuals and communities Christians. Without good relationships, individuals and communities are bound to be lifeless. And so compan-ionship, relationships, belong in consecrated life. In fact, loving presence is necessary in consecrated life. But com-panionship, even deep companionship, can be had in other ways, some of them far easier than religious community. Neither friendship nor c6mpanionship, of course, can be the main purpose of religious community. As Antoine de Saint-Exup~ry writes in l/Vind, Sm~d, and Stars, "Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking together in the same direction." In Christian community, if our primary gaze is on each other rather than on Christ, we are not on the way to true communion. 66.1 2007 Hoover ¯ Why Do We Gather? Religious cOmmunity is no way to flee,the,World; the world walks right-inl Wit,h,us.o Can religious community exist for the purpose of mak-ing the practical details of life more economical or more simple? It certainly can, though it does not always do so. In our university town we see students who live together to save money and make life less burdensome, leaving more time and energy for studies. Religious communi-ties, too, can live simply and economically--and even live gospel poverty. But is this all there is to it? Communities, even small ones, can provide security. People throughout the centuries have banded together for the sake of security. Gated communities thrive today. California lays claim to at least three gated cities--in effect, walled towns: Rolling Hills, Hidden Hills, and Canyon Lake. Probably some peo-pie enter religious life to be safe from the dangers of the "world" (or other dangers they somehow perceive). We know from experi-ence that religious community is no way to flee the world, if for no other reason than that the world walks right in with us. Security, then, cannot be the purpose of coming together as religious. There has to be more to religious community than any of these reasons, more even than all of them together. Parker Palmer, a Quaker, who at the time of writing an article for Desert Call (1987) was part of an intentional community, puzzled over the historical longevity of monasticism, given the difficulties of community life. He concluded that it is because the monks "created a form of community that brings them together not for the purpose of togetherness but to support each other in the rigors of the inward journey.''~ Review for Religious To support each other on the inward journey, the spiritual journey, is indeed rigorous. It has no less a goal than transforming union with Jesus Christ. That, after all, is the Christian call. The road can be rocky, and pitfalls can lie along the path. There can be pain and discourage-ment, but also joy, peace, and love. Moments of grace can astonish, but then there may be long and numbing stretches of boredom. At times we wish to shuffle along complacently, and at other times we are strong against the enemy's wiles. We have glimmers of understanding and then clouds of miserable confusion. The journey is truly rigorous. There is no way to make it alone. Whether we thought about it this way or not, this is the reason we entered religious life. God knew the pur-pose even if we did not--the call to give ourselves wholly to God by following a path of transforming union in love. This path not only blesses us with love and forgiveness, it also demands much of us. It requires prayer. This needs to be said bluntly here because, though for some people prayer is pure joy, for others it is a demand, a rigorous one. And, as for praying together, some find it no bur-den at all, while others are being sorely tested. The need for prayer implies the need to find time for prayer, the courage to carve a quiet niche for it when society--and sometimes religious life as well--would instead reward us for constant activity. How many times have we heard someone say with a hint of pride in her voice, "I haven't had a day off in months"? Or maybe we have even made that boast ourselves. As our life goes on, we have opportunities and duties to learn compassion toward the uncompassionate and to love those who do not love us._We learn to see loveliness in those who appear unlovely, sometimes being surprised at seeing our own kind of goodness in someone we never even liked. We find ourselves acknowledging our own 66.1 2007 Hoover ¯ Why Do We Gather? sinfulness, our helplessness, our inability to understand ourselves or the God who loves us and in whose image we are made. The spiritual journey brings people to a better vision of life--but usually without visions. Along the way we more and more take on the mind of Christ, who emptied himself. We learn not to cling to anything, not to hold anything back. We take one step at a time, without know-ing where the road winds and often without being sure that the next step is the right one. The road through our interior landscape may lack clear markers; misty weather may obscure them and make us forget the presence of God. Formidable though the way may be, it is precisely here that we find our delight. The God who created the universe, who fills the cosmos, who was and is and ever shall be, this God is both our companion and our destina-tion. After beginning on this path, any other way seems dull and senseless, hardly worth the trouble of putting one foot in front of the other. To make the most of this wondrous journey and to smooth its progress, we gather together. We support one another by our words, our prayers, and our presence, and we grant one another the silence and solitude we all need. And, when we become discouraged like Elijah lying under the broom tree, we take for each other the role of the angel who said, "Get up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you" (1 K 19:7, NRSV). We have to admit, though, that sometimes our sisters and brothers the~nselves can be part of the "burning of the noontide heat, and the burden of the day."-' The com-munity may be the very reason we long to crawl under the broom tree and disappear in sleep. But the burdens and the blessings of the road are intermingled and often indis-tinguishable from one another. What seems like a bur-den may in reality be a blessing, and each blessing tends Review for Religious to bring with it its own weight, imperceptible at times, greatly evident at others. In community, as we accompany each other along the way, as we support each other, we bring ourselves to the mix of people, we give ourselves as gifts. As with ordinary gifts, we do not know if we have chosen the right gift for the right person. We sincerely hope we have, and that we are not bringers of burdens or disappointments. In this we all develop subtle social gifts of giving and receiving, giving benefits shyly and having doubts beneficially, all the while sharing in mystery. What, then, is the role of our ministry? Is the value of ministry lessened if the work we are called to do is not our chief reason for coming together? Not at all. Without the inward journey, our ministry lacks integrity. A reli-gious community with a task--even a noble task--as its primary purpose risks allowing both community and task to become sterile. The apostolate is inseparable from the path of transforming union. Like cotton canvas garden-ing gloves, our ministry, hand in hand with prayerfulness, brings our patient dedication to flower in ways beyond imagining--more .and more the work of Christ. We our-selves are transformed into the compassionate and merci-ful Christ for each other and for the world. Notes ~ Parker Palmer, "The Monastic V~ay to Church Renewal," Desert Call, ¼qnter 1987: 8-9. 2 Elizabeth C. Clephane, "Beneath the Cross of Jesus," 1868. 66.1 2007 ROBERT SCHIELER An Experience of Jesus and His Brothers During Holy Week 2006 three hundred De La Salle Christian Brothers gathered in retreat to discern a future together. Under the banner "An Experience of Jesus and His Brothers," we brothers from three East Coast provinces~ and Toronto, Canada, desire to imagine more of a future than merging our provinces into one. As in other congregations, the reason for con-sidering a shared future is the diminishment and aging in our provinces. In recent years the provinces have spon-sored joint formation programs, retreats, workshops, and council meetings. This gathering helped us become even more familiar with one another and our hopes and dreams. From the beginning we wanted to explore creative approaches to consolidation. We saw the merging of provinces as perhaps an administrative necessity but no guarantee for future viability and vitality. Our goal was to Robert Schieler FSC writes from Christian Brothers Provincialate; P.O. Box 29; Adamstown, Maryland 21710. Review for Religious make our network of ministries more effective. These ways were to include a renewed passion for our life together as brothers in community and for our consecrated life in the following of Jesus. The aim of the communal retreat was to facilitate achieving these goals. In the preceding eighteen months, a planning com-mittee guided local community conversations around the Triduum. Four prayer services with reflection questions were prepared for Trinity Sunday, when communities nor-mally .plan for the year, the first Sunday in Advent, and the first Sunday in Lent. Reflection questions sought to mirror sessions that would take place during the retreat: remembering our icons and dangerous memories; discern-ing who we are today and our potential for tomorrow; and deciding on a direction for a shared future. Being pragmatic people, a good many brothers had reservations about this process and the value of the retreat itself. The retreat began on Wednesday evening with over three hundred brothers processing into our prayer space for an opening prayer service and a motivational presen-tation celebrating five brothers identified as icons from our five provinces. During our days of retreat, we would recall icons from Scripture, our Lasallian heritage, and our brothers. Icons, as windows to the interior, help us get in touch with the deeper forces operative in our lives. An icon can help us transcend the immediacy of our pres-ent life situation. By touching the core of our being, icons stir up an interior movement that allows us to go beyond our immediate landscapes. At the opening prayer service we heard read: We gather tonight to remember, to celebrate, to grieve, and to dream. This is our Lasallian heritage. It is rich, indeed! It is composed of individuals, communities, and ministries that at one time listened to the whispers of a radical spirit, a spirit that opened to us new venues and invited us to launch our boats in uncharted waters so 66.1 2007. Scbieler ¯ An Experience of Jesus and His Brothers as to serve better the children of the poor and working class. We celebrate tonight our Lasallian icons. They are stories, people, events of the original foundational journey of our community as De La Salle Brothers that become like windows breaking open the deepest mean-ing, revealing a prophetic insight, full of memory and hope, about the present. They help us to get in touch with our dangerous memories., our wildest dreams. They connect us to our institute, to our church, and to the mystery of God's kingdom here on earth. Brothers, they do not exist to reassure us. Sometimes these icons will destabilize us and challenge our current views and understandings. If we let them, they may stir up in us the deepest movements and yearnings of the Spirit! Seeing men we have lived with or heard about and recalling how they lived as brothers and what they accom-plished stirred us, prompted reflections, and encouraged conversations about our fraternal life together and the mission for which we consecrated our lives. As the open-ing evening came to a close, brothers retired to their rooms in a "wait and see" frame of mind. Dangerous Memories Under the day's theme of "Remembering where we were and refounding our hope. for the future," we met on Holy Thursday morning as provinces to recall our respec-tive dangerous memories. The theologian Johannes B. Metz saw dangerous memories as: memories in which earlier experiences break through to the center point of our lives and reveal new and dangerous insights for the present. They illuminate for a few moments and with a harsh and steady light the questionable nature of things we have apparently come to terms with, and show up the banality of our supposed "realism." They break through the canon of the prevailing structures of plausibility and have certain subversive features. Such memories are like dangerous Review for Religious and incalculable visitations from the past. They are memories that we have to take into account, memories, as it were, with a future content.: One province, in the activities leading up to the retreat, highlighted as one of its most dangerous memories a 1920s decision that resulted in a quick move from primary to secondary education. In 1926 and 1927 the province withdrew from thirteen elementary schools to staff two new diocesan high schools. While reluctant at the time to leave elementary education, the province would realize from these two schools several hundred vocations during the next four decades. This decision is part of the prov-ince lore and often recalled at fraternal gatherings. On this Holy Thursday morning, however, it was about another dangerous memory that several brothers spoke with pas-sion. This dangerous memory was still very much in the present. It was from the late 1960s and early 1970s. Like many congregations and the church in general, the province was caught up in the euphoria of the Second Vatican Council, but was also beginning to witness the fallout: departures, the drop in vocations, and polariza-tion. Between the start of summer 1969 and the end of summer 1970, the province would lose nearly a hundred brothers, including the provincial and much of the prov-ince's leadership. In the coming decade nearly thirty men would leave to enter the priesthood. The novitiate that had served the province since 1880 closed in summer of 1969. At the same time the renewal and updating of our religious life, the principle of subsidiarity, and personal responsibility versus directives from the top were going forward. So was empowerment of young over those with seniority status. While this province would struggle with fundamental issues of religious life through much of the 1970s, by the end of the decade a new formation program was bringing 66.1 2007 Schieler ¯ An Experience of yesus and His Brothers from our pas that we wanted tocar or ard fewer but excellent candidates. Commitment to its tradi-tional educational ministries remained strong while being open to new and sometimes individual ministries. The mental health of the brothers would be honestly faced and addressed. After considerable neglect, personal and communal prayer returned. The morning session was both invigorating and inspir-ing. Table conversation at lunch was animated as other brothers were proposed as icons and further dangerous memories shared. Following lunch and prompted by a presentation on passing with Jesus from death to life and by a video on our roots, we reflected on the values from our past that we wanted to cel-ebrate and carry forward into the future. These included accomplishing our educational mission as a community that can adapt and innovate, the diversity of our educational delivery sys-tems, our formation as educators with a Christocentric spirituality, and our recent establishment of national for-mation programs to share our charism with our lay col-leagues. As Thursday afternoon gave way to evening and din-ner, the brothers seemed to accept that we were on a retreat, not at an assembly. Conversations were more hope-filled, and the feeling now being expressed was "Yes, it is good to be together." This was evidenced by the number of brothers coming.before the Blessed Sacrament in prayer and silence throughout the evening. Finding a seat in chapel for adoration on Holy Thursday had not been difficult for a long time! Review for Religious Three Hundred HistoriesmOne Voice, One Spirit While on Wednesday evening and Holy Thursday we celebrated and remembered those brothers who shaped us and our provinces, on Good Friday we would behold the men we are today. How are we different from those we had honored and recognized? What had we lost? What do we take to the cross? Whom do we take down from the cross? What do we bury? To stimulate our reflection we viewed the film Romero, suffering servant in our time, and listened to a presentation on the crucifixion of Jesus, the Suffering Servant for all time. These enriched our table conversations later, but something else in that afternoon proved transformative. The image of three hundred brothers one by one ven-erating the crucified Christ on Good Friday afternoon was a powerful one. We witnessed three hundred histories that have faithfully lived their initial "yes" given to God. There was much gray, but the talent and energy in that long gray line was palpable. One brother reflecting on the experience wrote: "I found that long line of brothers inspiring. Each of us brought our stories to that moment, and I knew many of the men and their talents, the ~ailures they and I faced, the challenges they and I met, the stu-dents they and I inspired, the communities we had lifted up, and our struggles with various demons. Some were my teachers; others were my mentors in community. There were international, national, and district leaders. Other brothers were and are colleagues and confreres. Yet all our various paths pointed us in the same right direction that afternoon. All of us bowed before the same cross, individually and collectively, confessing our belief in Jesus our Savior. What richer image could we have of our vow formula than that we brothers accomplish our educational mission not as individuals but 'together and by associa-tion' with one another?''3 66.1 2007 Scbieler ¯ An Experience of Jesus and His Brothers This kind of change stimulates resistance because it challenges peopl e's habits. Holy Saturday Holy Saturday morning began with a presentation that many brothers found realistic while others found challenging and some even disturbing or out of sync with the spirit of the retreat. That presentation revealed the harsh demographic realities that nearly sixty percent of the membership is over sixty-five years of age with only twelve of the 420 brothers in the three provinces and del-egation under the age of forty. It spoke of the hope lost after the heady days of the council. It spoke of halfhearted efforts at amalgamation in the 1990s and the first cou-ple of years in this new ~ century. It spoke of the ~' difficulties and chal- !enges of what Heifetz . and Linsky call "adap-tive change" versus "technical change"; change at the core of persons or organizations as opposed to the simple rear-ranging of things.4 This kind of change stimulates resis-tance because it challenges people's habits, beliefs, and cultures. The presentation offered elements of hope and a plan for the future, but for some it stood in contrast to the good feelings generated from the storytelling and shar-ing of experiences from our various provinces. Perhaps we were experiencing the stone being placed at the entrance to the tomb. There was a period of questioning, self-doubt, and waiting. What direction would the retreat now take? We had reached a critical moment, and it took all the facilitators' skills to maintain a retreat atmosphere and not slip into a workshop or assembly one. We pre-pared the brothers to opt for the direction they preferred. Review for Religious The answer would come in the afternoon, after the "three hundred stories" had processed in once more. Five possible directions for a shared future were iden-tified, including remaining as separate provinces or unit-ing in a totally new structure. The five possibilities were posted at the front of the hall, and each brother was given a colored dot to place next to his choice. Again three hun-dred men walked up quietly and indicated their choice. At the end, it was overwhelmingly agreed: to create one province with new structures for the vitality of commu-nities and ministries of the three present provinces and delegation. The key phrase was "new structures." In a letter he sent to the brothers at the retreat, our superior general wrote: Our times demand not only that we change current structures, as if by doing only this we could revitalize ourselves. It is not about simply creating larger prov-inces that are the same as those of the past. We have to reinvent what it is we understand by the term "prov-ince," and create new structures that will allow us to be rnore visible and more effective in the way we manage and accompany Lasallian association throughout the world,s The stone in front of the tomb was being removed along with self-doubt and waiting. We embraced the possible. It is always Holy Saturday whenever people push back the creeping boundaries of the world's fear, making room for irrepressible hope; where people live the long darkness of original sin while believing in the possibil-ity of the deeper light; where people discover the touch of an invincible spring on the bare branches of their winter lives.6 Easter Vigil The Easter Vigil was a most joyous occasion. All three hundred brothers had donned their new sport shirts with one of our familiar congregation logos. In his sermon the 66.1 2007 Scbieler ¯ An Experience of Jesus and His Brothers 72 celebrant for the vigil beautifully summarized the previous several days by recounting a conversation he had earlier in the day with a young man staying at the same resort. I walked by. "Hi," I said. "'Sup. You one of Jesus' brothers?" I knew what he meant because I live in the 'hood. "Sorry?" "You one of Jesus' brothers? I saw the sign: 'Jesus and His Brothers.'" "Yeah, yeah, you are too!" Never miss a catechetical moment. "So you pastors or something?" "No, mostly teachers-Christian Brothers." "That's nice," he said. "I've been watching

Issue 65.3 of the Review for Religious, 2006. ; Bei~ Religiofis ~QUARTERLY 65~3 2006 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with Godi .dialogue with ourselves, and dialog4~e with one another about the holiness we tryto live according to gts~ari~s o.f Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul VI said, our way Of being dsurcb is today tlse~, way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindel] 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 Josephinmn 7625 North High Street ° Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Rdigious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, NIN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2006 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~gournalof Catholic ~piri~uality view 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 Stephen Erspamer OSB "Kathleen Hughes R$CJ Louis ~nd Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ QUARTERLY 65.3 2006 contents prisms 228 Prisms 230 coming together The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress: A Restrospective Karen M. Kennelly CSJ summarizes the thinking and the participants' interaction at the 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress held in Rome and proposes that some themes should impact local chapters and congregational meetings. ¯ Reflection and Discussion Questions 244 A New Way of Meeting . Rachael M. Harrington SNDdeN describes one carefully planned attempt to capture new life and meaning that might be incorporated into the usual chapter or congregational meeting. 226 255 meeting God Aspiratory Prayer, a Welcome Addition to Contemplative Prayer Ernest E. Larkin OCarm describes the prayer of aspiration, reviews its hisory in spirituality, identifies a few of its main proponents, and suggests ways that we might make it part of our lives. Reflection Questions Review for Religious 272 "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises Philip Shano SJ reflects upon the purpose and use of repose days within the Ignatian thirty-day retreat and raises questions for retreat directors. 283 Gerard Manley Hopkins's "Lantern out of Doors": A Contemplative Response to Loss Charles P. Farrar praises the spiritual theology of Hopkins's sonnet which describes the experience of personal loss with the metaphor of a lantern passing in the night. What first seems subjective and formulaic proves to be psychologically and theologically insightful. 293 3O4 being religious Today's Candidates: Who Are They, What Do They Expect? Raymond R. Ryan OSA allows younger members within the religious congregation to present a snapshot picture of their hopes and desires for community life and mission. These Strawberries Are Divine! Sisters and a Spirituality of Living on Earth Colleen Carpenter Cullinan provides a glimpse of the contributions of Catholic religious congregations of women in founding farms and Earth centers as places to raise organic food and educate people about the deep human connection to God's creation. Prayer / Reflection and Discussion Questions departments 319 Scripture Scope: Reading the Gospel of John 323 Canonical Counsel: Archives of Religious Communities 328 Book Reviews 65.3 2006 prisms Tintroduce the Gospel story of the Annunciation, St. Ignatius Loyola would have us picture the three divine Persons of the Trinity in dialogue about how better to accom-plish the salvation of humankind. We might describe it as the first communal discernment. The meetings that people hold when things are to be decided--meetings sometimes so contentious that they seem "eternally" long--can be seen as human strivings to imitate the wise personal planning of the Blessed Trinity. As our journal's mission statement declares, Pope Paul VI identified dialogue as a way of being church, especially in our time. Our world, with its instant communication by radio, television, Internet, and cell phone, has often taken away from us our black-and-white, simplistic judgments about who is the enemy, about who is being saved, about what other religions believe, about under-standing sexual orientations and various complex life issues, and about the cultural values of a world society. In the Old Testament's Book of Genesis, Cain's question, "Am I my brother's keeper?" has been answered definitively by our Christian faith. Jesus in giving us his one commandment allows for no wiggle room: we are to love God with all our mind, soul, and strength and our neighbor as our-selves. And loving, as all marriages and deep friendships know, takes a lot of dialoguing. We all are aware that our love of God devel-ops through a dialogue called prayer. Mthough there are many books describing some classic Re~iew for Religious forms of praying, usually drawn from the practice and example of the holy men and women preceding us, we still must make our conversation with God our own. We are not on stage, reciting lines written by some playwright. God and we share from our hearts. That is why prayer, even in its quiet moments, is always a dialogue. As in every deep human relationship, the dialogue of sharing never has an end. In fact, this signifies the promise of eternal life with God. For many of us today, meetings seem a way of life. We see it in world diplomacy, we know it in business, we par-ticipate in it in our parishes, in our religious communities, and in our neighborhood associations. Most of us desire fewer meetings, more efficiently run meetings, meetings with clearer outcomes, and meetings which bring about something better for everyone involved. For we are aware of many frustrations in communal dialogue. We have exam-ples on the international scale, on the church level, and in religious-life interworkings where dialogue breaks down or perhaps is never entered into. Just as personal dialogue with God (prayer) portends our relational life with God forever, so group dialogue in meetings, conferences, and religious chapters needs to be valued as our way of enter-ing more closely into the dialogical life of God. "Dialogue is our way of being church." We are the church. Our identity is not just in our prayer; it is lived out in the necessary human interactions of today's com-plex world. In our meetings, conferences, and religious chapters, let us work to discover how God is entering us more deeply into God's own life--a life of shared dialogue. If the incarnation is the result of our trinitarian God's meet-ing, in what ways are God and divine grace present to the world in our human meetings? David L. Fleming SJ 65.3 2006 KAREN M. KENNELLY The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress: A Retrospective coming together 230] A myriad of thoughts and images come to mind as I look back at the Congress on Consecrated Life held in Rome in November 2004: hundreds of faces, a babble of languages, colorful multinational garb, and icons of the Woman at the Well and the Good Samaritan focusing us on the congress theme, "Passion for Christ, Passion for Humanity." The mixed composition of the congress made it unique. For the first time, leadership from both women's and men's congregations met in an international con-vocation to address a common agenda. Repre-sentatives of the national and international conferences of religious, groups of young religious and theologians, and editors of religious journals joined religious superiors as full participants. Karen M. Kennelly CSJ, a member of her congregation's leadership team, may be addressed at Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet; 2311 S. Lindbergh Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63131. Review for Religious A further note of uniqueness lay in the process used to prepare for, carry out, and follow up on the meeting. Preparation spanned a four-year period involving "envisioning" and "theological summary" groups. The first group sought to achieve consensus on the actual reality of religious life today by eliciting facts and testimonials from around the world. The second analyzed the collected information from a theological perspective and summarized it in a working paper sent in advance to all congress participants. We all had an opportunity to express our preferences for small-group discussions on topics drawn from the working paper. Theologians responsible for composing the paper came from Norway, Spain, France, Italy, the United States, the Philippines, and Burkina Faso. Others, from Mexico, Germany, and Peru, collaborated via the Internet. During the congress a third or "Listeners" group gathered impressions and ideas as they were expressed in papers presented by the major speakers, in written reports from groups, and in comments from the floor. This group's work culminated in a synthesis presented to the congress on the last day. My experience as a member of the Listeners group made me aware of the congress planners' painstaking efforts to be as pluralistic and inclusive as possible, achieving active participation by those present to the extent that numbers, languages, and ~ime permitted. As with the other groups, our membership comprised about equal numbers of women and men, drawn from every continent. From day to day our dialogue grew in intensity as we listened, exchanged impressions and observations, and began identifying common threads among the multiplicity of ideas brought to the floor. The principal speakers brought unique perspectives to the assessment of contemporary religious life, beginning 6~.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress 232 ] with a joint paper by two Italians, Bruno Secondin and Diana Papa, a Carmelite and a Poor Clare. They invited the 847 participants, gathered at some ninety round tables and aided by simultaneous translations into six languages, to begin the adventure of immersing themselves in the themes articulated in the working paper. Dolores Aleixandre, of Spain, a Religious of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and a theologian, brought scriptural exegesis to the congress's theme, religious life as passion for Christ and for humanity. She saw in the icons of the Samaritan Woman and the Good Samaritan "a call to center ourselves on the essential, to a different way of relating to each other, of supporting each other intercongregationally, of making room for the laity" (cited from her paper as published in Passion for Christ, Passion for Humanity, Pauline Books and Media, 2005, pp. 91-125)--insights that were to be echoed frequently by congress participants in the days to come The Brazilian Jesuit Jo~o Batista Lib~nio brought a sociological and liberation-theology perspective to religious life at the beginning of the third millennium. He spoke of the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience as having significance today only in relation to three elements: an experience of God, community life, and mission. He challenged us to rethink consecrated life from the bottom up in the light of contemporary reality with all its "ambiguity, perplexity, and paradox" (PCPH, pp. 127-171). The British Dominican Timothy Radcliffe asked "what signs religious life offers" in the wake of the World Trade Towers' destruction on 11 September 2001, an event he views as symbolic of the world in which religious life exists today, paradoxically bound ever more tightly together by instant communication and ever more deeply divided by violence (PCPH, pp. 173-189). How, he asked, Review for Religious can religious be a "sign of humanity's common home in God" in a world suffering a crisis of homelessness? What future awaits religious life in a world seemingly offering only a future of violence? What has religious life to offer as the culture of control and the struggle for hegemony intensify? A North American voice was heard in the person of an Immaculate Heart of Mary sister, Sandra M. Schneiders. She picked up on a topic Radcliffe had noted as fundamental but had not explored, namely, the culture of consumerism and our -:~ witness to poverty. Her reflections involved a discussion of how religious incarnate renunciation of the "world" and go about creating "the alternate world generated by the profession of the vows" (PCPH, pp. ' i '~ " ~ ' ' 191-218). Characterizing the . ~ . "' -' ~ . . religious lifestyle as one rooted in the "public, lifelong commitment of the members, as individuals and as communities, to a characteristic approach to material goods, power, and sexuality," she caught the assembly's imagination early in her talk with her arresting statement that she would discuss, not "the future Of religious life," but rather "religious life of the future." Schneiders's imaginative and theologically profound exploration of evangelical poverty as the "economy of the reign of God," and of prophetic obedience as the "politics of the reign of God," gave us much to think about as Vincentian Franc Rod6, prefect of the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL), brought the series of formal presentations to a close with a recapitulation of major .¢":t~lig!oU~ life,'in a world ~seemingly offering only ~a~tu~e ff v~ole~ce? 65.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress 234 themes in recent papal documents such as Hta consecrata and Novo millennio ineunte (PCPH, pp. 219-2 3 6). Participants next divided into continental groups to look at sociological factors touching upon consecrated life in their own continents, noting both positive and negative effects these factors were thought to have on the capacity of religious to be passionate for Christ and for humanity. Some of the most acute observations expressed in the congress--whether from the floor during open-microphone time or in the hastily written reports-- flowed from these gatherings. As Listeners striving to perceive the essence of group contributions, we constandy had to make allowances for the great diversity within the somewhat artificial continental categories. The Europeans prefaced their report by describing it as a "communion of intentions" and "truly an exercise in European communion," given the different languages and situations in which Europe finds itself. Asians noted the vastness of their continent and its diversity of languages, cultures, religions, and political and economic systems before commenting on their many shared concerns. The Africans' preface included this in bold type: "Note: in Africa it is not possible to generalize. There is great diversity in the situations." Those from Oceania, the smallest segment of the congress, nevertheless noted the extremes they represented: countries with predominantly Western European lifestyles and countries where the lifestyles are indigenous to Melanesia and the Pacific. Only the North American and Latin American groups dispensed with such cautions and addressed directly their shared task of identifying the impact of sociological factors on religious life as they experienced it. Themes from the continental groups that seem worthy of special attention, whether for their singularity Review for Religious or their commonality, include gender issues; war, violence, and disease; globalization; aging, institution-alization, and rigid structures; and clear signs of new life among religious. Religious from every continent saw gender issues as adversely affecting contemporary religious life. Europeans referred to "the open question of gender" and felt that, "because of the sexual abuse and the impact on the mass media, consecrated life is reduced in energy and its ability to witness: a sense of desolation pervades and passion is suppressed." Asians underscored "male North Americans were succinct in ~their assertion that "the ~ ~,!sociology' within the church is-an obstacle to the passion for Christ and for humanity." domination in society and church" and "machismo and male domination" as sociological factors adversely affecting them. The African report alluded to the problem in rather oblique fashion by noting that "the idea of relations between men and women continues to be very much determined by the culture." North Americans were succinct in their assertion that "the sociology within the church is an obstacle to the passion for Christ and for humanity. The lack of inclusivity . . . results in feelings of displacement in the church, a sense of being marginalized by many, particularly in women's communities." Those from the Latin American (and Caribbean) continental group cited as important values "awareness of the processes of exclusion and the greater involvement of women." They felt they were being called to "generate a feminine 65.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress religious life with more involvement and responsibility for the building of a new history and a feminine consciousness-raising that challenges the machismo in society and in the church." The Oceania report minced no words in seeing as a problem the "public face of the church: powerful, antiwomen, and hypocritical." It came as no surprise that Europeans were the most forceful in pointing out the "aging of the population, the generation gap in religious life," and "rigidity in structures, even of consecrated life" as sociological factors with negative effects on religious life. In other words, they asserted that the passion of religious for humanity is blocked by the "way in which our structures are closed and in which we are closed towards the world of the laity." Less predictable was the echoing of this view by other groups. The Asians, for example, felt that institutionalization in their region had created a gap between them and the people, "especially the poor, who identify us with the rich," and that "religious structures have stifled the spirit and dynamism of religious life. The young feel restricted and their freedom hindered by structures the old always lean on." A similar concern shows up in the African report; it lists as negative aspects "the weight of tradition" and "a way of seeing authority at the level of leaders, a traditional conception which still dominates both society and religious life." This report speaks urgently of a need for reflection on consecrated life that is distinctly African, a need to find an African way of following Christ. Such thoughts question the worth of structures inherited from a colonial past. These concerns surfaced also in the Asian group, which considered it deplorable that "Asian religious have been uprooted from their rich culture." The report from Oceania, too, alluded to rigid structures when it asserted that "restorationism" in the church, Review for Religious while attracting people looking for security, has caused consecrated life to lose credibility as a radical commit-ment to justice. The Latin Americans saw sociological factors to be causes or occasions of religious being "tamed by the institution [of religious life], tired, with little hope, disenchanted, adapting, living in indifference, [possessing] little consciousness of [consecrated life's] own identity, of its own ability to search, [experiencing] great difficulty in having deep interpersonal relationships with others and with God." They offered the intriguing possibility of countering this loss of the prophetic and mystic elements of religious life by working with the "small utopias which act in favor of humanity and in collaboration with other ecclesial, intercongregational, and extraecclesial groups that search for the same reality/values/things." The impact had on contemporary religious life by war, other forms of violence, and disease was noted by every group but particularly by the Africans, who noted the prevalence of AIDS, malaria, and other diseases and the instability resulting from wars and ethnic and religious conflicts in that continent. "Violence is growing: it questions us," said the Europeans. Asians expressed serious concern over effects of war and violence, especially in the Middle East, and over the "rise of religious fundamentalism, resulting in communal violence." North Americans deplored the "normalization of violence" and what they perceived as its causes. All groups saw globalization as exerting a great influence on society and on consecrated life today. The Africans saw it--along with urbanization, unem-ployment, and migration--as contributing to poverty at various levels. They blamed it for "hindering a deep form 237 ,i 65.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress 238 of communication" and for contributing to a lack of reflection specifically on African consecrated life. Asians saw "elitist globalization" as having destructive effects on the poor and marginalized, on families, and especially on youth. Latin Americans described "neoliberal globalization" as destroying "what is particular to/in our countries," as especially damaging to young people, and as a spur to migration, with its multiple social dislocations. Oceania observed globalization as affecting the entire region-- countries indigenous in character and countries predominantly Western European--by widening the gap between rich and poor and "elevating greed to the status of a virtue." This summary of.the continental group reports, brief though it is, suggests a major accomplishment and a major flaw of the congress. Those present heard the voices of religious from every corner of the world with a wonderful immediacy and force. On the other hand, we simply did not have time for much dialogue of a more personal kind. Each of the continental reports, however, concluded with a very provocative section on signs of hope and of new life. Groups cited a growing sense of communion among congregations and between laypersons and religious, of the importance of personal relationships, of commitment, of community and of belonging, of greater interiority along with a lessened grip of institutionalism. Europeans made the arresting statement that secularization, despite its negative consequences, is also "causing us to love the world as it is with hope." Asians remarked that our times are ripe with opportunity: "As Asians in Asia, we have our own experience of God. By this, perhaps, we can contribute to the vitality, of religious life. It is time for rebirthing our institutes with our Asian Revie~ for Religious identity." Africans saw themselves as bringing to religious life the gifts of a deep sense of God and of the family which leads to sharing and attentiveness to one another. One young African, during the all-too-brief open microphone time in a plenary session, good-naturedly scolded his European elders for perceiving death for religious life in the future, whereas their "children" from other parts of the world, hoisted on the shoulders of their European parents, can see farther ahead to future life! North Americans ventured the opinion that aging could be looked upon as "saging," an opportunity to draw new life from the wisdom of the elderly. Diminishment, they thought, provides "a freedom to reshape religious life." Participants barely had the continental group reports in hand before moving on to topical discussions in groups ranging in size from six to over a hundred, depending on people's interests: ¯ Justice, peace, and the suffering of humanity. ¯ Inculturation--the embodiment of consecrated life in a culturally pluralistic world. ¯ Interreligious dialogue. ¯ The arts: imaging and expressing a new song. ¯ Mass media and the communication of values. ¯ Liberating the prophetic: solidarity in a world of exclusion. ¯ Liberating the prophetic: celibacy and life-giving relationships. ¯ Tilling the soil of Sacred Scripture. ¯ Thirst for God and the search for meaning. ¯ Ongoing formation for personal conversion and corporate transformation. ¯ Congregational culture. ¯ Community as mission. ¯ Partnership with the laity. ¯ Leadership and authority. ¯ The ecclesial dimensions of consecrated life. Although the time allocated for these discussions was brief, each topic was based on material in the working paper 65.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress 24:0 distributed well in advance of the meeting. Participants came prepared and were assigned their first choice among the three topics in which they had indicated interest before coming. As a result, they shared many thoughtful insights with one another; a summary appears in Passion for Christ, Passion for Humanity (pp. 237-241). Those of us present for the congress received the somewhat longer reports composed by group reporters on site. Some Conclusions For me, the challenge posed by the congress was at the time and remains today one of assimilation and communication. The rich papers presented by speakers, along with participants' voices as reflected in reports by the continental and topical groups, left our table of Listeners with the nearly impossible task of assimilating content and shaping it into a synthesis at the final session. Our summary, "What the Spirit Says Today to Consecrated Life," compressed into an hour's oral delivery the reflection and discernment that had absorbed us during the entire congress. Rather than repeat that synthesis (see PCPH, pp. 243- 255), I want to share what stand out for me a year later as the two most significant messages conveyed by this unique gathering. The first is that the Spirit is at work among us today, regardless of how old or young we are as religious, no matter how old or young our congregations, and no matter whether we come from north, south, east, or west. The second is that a contemplative approach is required of the members of our congregations if we are to discern what the Spirit is saying to us at this critical moment of our history, some forty years since Vatican Council II invited religious to renew their lives in the light of the gospel, their foundational charisms, and the signs of the times. Review for Religious The Spirit calls us to revive the enchantment, the passion, we had when we first responded, as congregations and as individuals, to Jesus' call to love God and our neighbor with all our heart. The Spirit calls us to personal and institutional renewal, to inculturation and to interreligious dialogue. The Spirit calls us to an inclusive attitude toward the laity, .and this, in turn, calls for new structures and a new language expressive of the inner reality Of our consecrated life. The Spirit calls us to esteem personal relations over structure, and to develop ourselves as religious capable of loving human relationships. We are called by Jesus to be passionate and to exercise ",~ and alfenation,of any kind. compassion toward others, particularly toward all who suffer the indignities of poverty, discrimination, and alienation of any kind. The congress experience brought home to me anew that we are living through, a period of vast and deep change in consecrated life--a sort of gestation period heavy with the promise of new birth. The seeds have been planted in good ground and are being warmed and watered by the life-bearing winds of the Spirit. We have only to tend the garden and pay attention with a discerning eye to the sprouts of new life lest we uproot them as noxious weeds.before they have a chance to flower and bear fruit. 6Y.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress Our congregations are being called to collaborate with the Spirit in bringing to birth the consecrated life of the future. It was apparent at the congress---its participants a cross section of more than six hundred congregations of women and men from all over the world--that the vision, the hopes, and the sense of urgency are widely shared. The modes of discernment and dialogue will necessarily differ from country to country, depending on culture and opportunity, but the desire for intra- and inter-congregational reflection and collaboration is present among religious in every continent. As a practical matter, I would urge congregations to take advantage of their forthcoming chapters to follow up on major themes explored at the congress. Chapters are periodically convened by every congregation; agendas and processes can readily be shaped to facilitate the kind of individual and corporate reflection we need and desire. Although successful use of this option is not without difficulties, it would seem to offer .the best chance for congregations to address the congress message in a timely way, and to seek the implications of that message for themselves. Clearly there are a few obstacles to surmount if we are to facilitate contemplative chapters that make good use of the theological and sociological perspectives offered at the congress. International congregations, whose members often constitute a microcosm of the multicultural 2004 gathering in Rome, in many cases still experience subtle Western attitudes that prevent the kind of dialogue modeled by the congress. Smaller local congregations may need to push beyond parochial concerns to help members achieve a broader vision and seek greater goals. But all must beware of a tendency toward activism, the preoccupation with doing rather than being that marks our contemporary world. Review for Religious Whether we come from large or small congregations, from apostolic, monastic, or contemplative "families" of religious; whether we can trace our history back for centuries or only a few years; and whether we are Americans, Europeans, Asians, Africans, or Oceanians, we are all called by the Spirit to use the congress and our own experience as a springboard to dive into the deep pool of Holy Mystery in which we religious live and move and have our being. It is for us at this crucial point in our history to delve deeper, to listen, to reflect, to dialogue, and to discern the spiritual realities of the life and mission we share as religious, to ask ourselves how we need to be if we are to do the works of persons passionate for Christ and passionate for humanity. Suggested Reading Passion for Christ, Passion for Humanity, Pauline Books and Media, 2005. Reflection/Discussion Questions 1. As I/we read the responses from the different continental groups regarding the future of religious life, which response gave me/us new insight and which response would I/we want to discuss further? 2. How can we take advantage of the "aging" of religious life members in our country to draw upon their wisdom ("saging') for our apostolic life and direction? 3. What practical steps do I/we need to take in order to adopt a more contemplative approach to listen to and follow the movements of the Spirit within our religious life context? 6Y.3 2006 RACHEL M. HARRINGTON A New Way of Meeting 244 Dissatisfaction with the timeworn chapter for-mula for the meetings of our congregation, the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur, as an international congregation of pontifical right resulted in a mandate from the 2002 chapter for us, the newly elected congre-gational leadership team, to explore new ways of assem-bling that took account of our multicultural identity. The dissatisfaction focused on the number and variety of pro-posals submitted for chapter discussion, the abundance of paper generated before, during, and after each chapter, and the dominance of the Western cultural model for meeting and discussion. Canon law offers little help. In accordance with the principle of subsidiarity, it provides for each institute the right to establish its own legislation for chapters pro-vided this falls within certain norms. Our constitutions, approved in 1989, contain several articles and directives for conducting chapters, no more restrictive, we think, Rachel M. Harrington SNDdeN is a member of the generalate lead-ership team of the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur. Their address is Via Raffaello Sardiello, 20; 00165 Roma, Italy. Review for Religio~s than many, and certainly tried and tested and not lightly to be discarded. One suggestion, superficially attractive, was to separate the chapter of affairs from the chapter of elections. Our general treasurer pointed out a major flaw in this proposal: chapters are expensive meetings. So we continued to talk and dream. Our directives, or rather the traditional interpretation of them, provide for a "midchapter" meeting,, an inter-national gathering at the midpoint between chapters. Beyond prescribifig that at this time the congregational leadership and the provinces evaluate their implemen-tation of the constitutions, there are no further direc-tives. So, with some trepidation, we determined on this midchapter meeting as our chance to experiment. We decided to offer two sisters from each province the opportunity to experience a different type of gathering. We hoped to stimulate creative thinking to improve the next chapter in 2008. We began in May 2003 by writing a letter to each sister in the congregation, inviting her to respond to three questions. We based the questions on one of the constitutions from the section on chas.tity: Our celibacy, deepened and enriched by God's love and that of our sisters, bears fruit in a love which reaches beyond the limits of family, tribe, or nation. It enables us to be free to go wherever we may be called in the ser-vice of God's kingdom of justice, peacei and love. We asked each sister how she felt that this constitu-tion had been realized in her life and what helps or hin-drances our community had ,given her in reaching "beyond the limits of family, tribe, or nation." We encouraged sisters to respond alone or after group dis-cussion. To avoid burdening province leadership, we sug-gested that all responses be posted uncollated to the congregational leadership in Rome. We assembled an 65.3 2006 Harrington ¯ A New Way of Meeting We wondered how many sisters would take, the troublet~, respond to our lettel~/ and we were overwhelmed by the number Who dld).~ 246 international planning group to help us review the responses. Membership of such groups is often pre-dictable, so we made a point of inviting sisters without previous experience of working on international groups, and, instead of looking for organizational skills, we looked rather for a different order of talents. To our delight, all of the sisters whom we approached accepted our invitation. In October 2004 we met in Rome: an economist teaching in a Kenyan university, a patristic theologian from a British univer-sity, a psychologist from Peru, a theolo-gian from Congo, an artist-liturgist from Britain, a photogra-pher with poetic writ-ing skills from the United States, and a musical-artist-liturgist from Zimbabwe. On our own team we had two cultural anthropologists, from the U.S.A. and Congo, a biblical theologian from the U.S.A., an educationist from the U.S.A., and a canon lawyer from Britain. We needed to give very little thought to the selection of facilitators; we knew whom we wanted. Sister Gabrielle Stuart RSM and Sister Mary Harrington SUSC had run facilitation workshops for leadership in Rome, and we had benefited from their expertise. That they were free and willing to be with us in this experiment was a huge encouragement.1 Traditionally our chapters are held in the U.S.A. or Europe and our midchapters in Africa or Latin America. In 1998 the midchapter took place in Peru, and so we Review for Religious selected Kenya for 31 July to August 2005. We invited a British sister serving there to be the on-site coordina-tor and to attend the Rome planning meeting. We wondered how many sisters would take the trou-ble to respond to our letter, and we were overwhelmed by the number who did, almost half the congregation. Considering the many who were too old or sick, this was way beyond our expectations. We spent the first day of the meeting reading these responses, with a checHist of questions: How do I feel? What do I think? What sur-prised me? What delighted me? What became clearer? What shocked me? What insights did I gain? What ques-tions remain? Reading the responses moved us all deeply. Our sis-ters had responded sincerely, from the depths of their experiences as celibate women working for the poor in a variety of situations. Most acknowledged a deepening of their understanding of the call to religious life as they took risks and endured suffering, separations, rejections, and misunderstanding. All expressed gratitude for the years spent in the congregation and for the richness of life offered by membership in an international group. We compiled our reactions and, after much discus-sion guided by the facilitators, agreed upon a goal for the midchapter meeting: to enable participants to explore, express, celebrate, and live the goodness of God in a love which reaches beyond the limits of family, tribe, or nation. Our foundress, St. Julie Billiart, bequeathed to us the charism of striving to discover and become the very goodness of God in the world, and, as we read the responses of our sisters, we realized how much this was integrated into their lives. A statement made about Julie by a contemporary cardinal in Belgium, "A spark from out the heart of Christ fell upon the heart of a woman who knew how to believe and how to love," somehow 65.3 2006 Harrington ¯ A New Way of Meeting 248!I captivated our thoughts as we read, and we decided to use "Sparks from the Heart of Christ" as the theme of the midchapter meeting. With the facilitators' help, we sorted ourselves into four groups: theologians, social scientists, the "fire department" (the liturgists), and the planners. We drew up questions which, as a result of our reading, we felt needed to be answered, and then we allocated tasks to each group. Everyone with a relevarit area of expertise agreed to present a paper in Nairobi on that topic to stimulate discussion. From April 2003 we spent some time at leadership meetings--held once a year on the Continent and twice a year in the U.S.A.--talking about our hopes for the meeting and encouraging the provincial leaders to choose as representatives one sister from each province who had no previous international experience and was willing to "go with the process." We also wanted one member of each leadership team to attend, so that any implementa-tion or follow-up would proceed smoothly. Although we never used the word '~delegate," and although we stressed repeatedly that this was not a chapter and not a deci-sion- making meeting, not everyone heard this. Shortly after our October 2004 planning meeting, the congress "Passioh for Christ, Passion for Humanity" took place in Rome within walking distance of our gen-eralate. As well as welcoming many of the participants to our home, we were able to access the papers on the Internet in four languages and encouraged our sisters to do likewise. Unfortunately, Internet access across the globe varies considerably, and so not all were able to take advantage of this resource. Attempting to compen-sate for this, we excerpted a couple of passages from the working paper and suggested that sisters meet in groups to discuss how they experienced the charism of our con- Review for Religious gregation in the light of their reflections on these pas-sages. We encouraged those chosen as representatives to bring the fruits of these discussions to the meeting in Nairobi. We hoped that this task would keep interest alive in the proposed meeting and enable the represen-tatives to feel that they were coming prepared. The planning group assembled in Nairobi with the facilitators on 30 July 2005, the day before the others were due to arrive. By this time we had added our gen-eral secretary and the director of our mission office to the group. We held the meeting in the Dimesse Sisters' Centre in Karen-Nairobi. Contrary to our hopes, we were unable to move in until after noon on the day we had hoped to begin. One of our biggest problems, shared by all interna-tional congregations, is that of language. We had arranged local translators for . French and Spanish, but Flemish, Italian, Portuguese, and Japanese are more difficult to provide for, especially as only relatively few sisters speak only these lan-guages. People skilled in simul-taneous translation are expensive, and we also need others who can provide necessary written trans-lations fairly rapidly. We are con-stantly learning in this area and are extremely grateful to those sisters who, proficient in two languages, generously help in translating. We mar-vel at the patient endurance of those who spend days on end listening through earphones. In social situations, as well as during the sessions, many struggled heroically to communicate across the language barriers using gestures and the few words they could manage. We provided play- 65.3 2006 Harrington ¯ ~l New ~Va~ of Meeting ing cards, jigsaw puzzles, and games without words to encourage this interaction. We had invited sisters from Japan, Nigeria, the U.S.A., and Congo to help with translation and secre-tarial tasks, so altogether we numbered sixty. Every day a brief account of the meeting, composed by one of these, was sent out on our congregational Intranet in English, French, and Spanish. Access to computers was limited, but whenever they could most participants sent home enthusiastic accounts of their experiences. As we began the meeting, each province brought some "report" on their reflections about our charism; several of these were poetic or beautifully presented in visual form. During our sixteen days together we had an enormous variety of experiences, most of which involved sharing our thoughts and feelings about specific ques-tions with a sister from another culture. The facilitators guided us into these moments, which were often deep and moving, with rituals involving simple gestures, gen-tle dances, and repetitive chants celebrated around ever-changing focal points in the meeting room. As the days went on, art work created in the course of the meeting was displayed on the walls of our meeting room--pic-tures, words, designs, charts--all reflecting our moods, our perceptions of our province realities, problems we faced, questions that we raised. Over the course of the two weeks, one of our cul-tural anthropologists gave us an illuminating presentation on "unpacking culture"; the other spoke of how African myths speak of God's goodness. The theologians pre-sented talks on the goodness of God from their varied perspectives, as revealed in the Bible, in African forma-tion programs, in living religious life in Congo, and as expressed in community life in the 4th-century church. The psychologist talked on "Chastity: A Love Which Review for Religious Goes beyond the Limits." All were translated later and made available to the whole congregation. Our economist assembled three university lecturers who made brief presentations on Kenya's progress (or lack of it) towards the United Nations' millennium devel-opment goals in regard to health, education, and the environment. A fourth panelist, representing an organi-zation that works with nongovernmental organizations, spoke about the frustrations he faces in his work, where the ideal partnership between aid organizations and gov-ernments falls far short of being realized. The four stayed on for the whole morning to lead group discussions and answer questions. The sisters from each province also spoke about their ministries and tried to communicate the realities of their daily lives. Most moving were the testimonies from the war-torn Democratic Republic of Congo and from Zimbabwe. When we had afternoons off, those who wished were taken in small groups to visit various pro-jects in housing and employment, schools (including the famous Starehe boys' school and its newborn sister school for girls), and the homes of people from Saint Mary and Joseph's, the parish where some of our sisters live and work. Other optional outings were to a safari park or to see Karen Blixen's (Isak Dinesen's) home, famous from the film Out of Africa. Two of the most memorable excursions were for Mass. On the first Sunday we went to Saint Mary and Joseph's, where we were welcomed in truly memorable fashion by the parish priest and by the "mother of the parish," who told us we were all their daughters. The dancing was led by small girls all attired in snowy white tee shirts advertising U.S. baseball teams. The choir was amazing and untiring, and the packed church sang along and swayed and clapped throughout the three-hour cel- 6Y.3 2006 Harrington * A New Way of Meeting ebration. The ladies of the parish had prepared dinner, so we moved the benches around to form tables and sat down to a lavish feast of beef stew, rice, and beans. On the second occasion we were hostesses to those who came to celebrate with us the opening of our novi-tiate in Langata, Nairobi, our fourth in Africa, and a real benchmark in the history of the province. We sat outside under awnings during the Mass celebrated by the bishop; afterwards the house was blessed and a flame tree planted. The meal, prepared outside in huge pots over open fires, was enjoyed by all. In the last days of our meetings, we focused on ques-tions that had arisen during our sharings, and we brain-stormed about how to prepare for the next chapter. During the closing In the. last~ days,(~our'tneet.in~s;~rz-~ we focused on"questio~.~ ~ . h.'afl:~[ ["~ arisen duringour shariftgs, ' and we brainstormed about how, to prepare for the°ne~.t:chapt~e~(.i~ to women after any meeting. We reverently and ceremoniously placed these artifacts on the floor around the centerpiece a mock fire, built around a candle, with sparkles scattered about. Then we were all invited to collect a prayer card and some sparkles and to light a candle from the cen-tral flame. To do this we had to walk toward the center and then away, through the spread-out paintings, pic-tures, charts, designs, and pre.sentations~a sort of sym-bolic acceptance of all that had taken place and been ritual we thanked all planners and participants. We removed the vari-ous artifacts we had displayed on the walls, per-forming the clear-ing- up ritual that is traditionally left Review for Religious shared over the previous two weeks and a commitment to carry the experience home. At the beginning of the meeting we had been reminded that in this meeting no decisions would be taken: we were there to experience what it means to belong to an international, multicultural, multilingual congregation. Nonetheless, some few in their evalua-tions expressed wonderings about the apparent lack of an agenda. We knew this was a risk. There was general dissatisfaction with the three celebrations of Mass which we had together during the meeting days--not the Sundays. Bringing in clergy, out of touch with what we were experiencing together, was felt to be artificial and awkward. Communion services led by ourselves might have proved more meaningful. Some found the days long and tiring. Most wrote that this had been a life-changing experience, creating bonds across cultures and languages, inspiring hope, and providing memories to last a life-time. The deep exchanges about cultural differences gave all of us new perspectives. Throughout we had been dependent on our two facil-itators, whose style pleased all but three of those pre-sent. Every day began with a review of the purpose of the meeting, of our hopes and concerns, and of the val-ues and behaviors we intended to live by during the meeting. After the morning ritual, there was a report on the questions raised, the previous day. At day's end we gathered in our "home groups" (the same multicultural group for the entire meeting), shared our day's experi-ences, and arrived at issues or questions for the coordi-nating committee to resolve. This committee, five members of the original planning group, met with the facilitators each day for forty-five minutes after the evening ritual, discussed the matters arising from the home groups, and planned the next day. When we eval- 65.3 2006 Harrington ¯ A New Way of Meeting uated our work, we realized thatthere were things we could have done differently and better. We had learned from our experience and from the feedback---another purpose of the meeting realized. The big anxiety of all present was how to communi-cate the fruits of the meeting to the sisters at home. We had papers and photographs, but these were two-dimen-sional, having meaning mainly for the participants. Carrying home fragile "sparks from the heart of Christ" challenges each of us to a new way of being, of believing, and of loving so that the sparks will ignite others and kindle new flames to spread the awareness of God's good-ness in all the events and circumstances of our lives. Note ' They can be contacted at GLOIR; 27 Catherine Street; Newry, Co. Down; BT35 6JG, Northern Ireland. E-mail: gloirinstitute@btopenworld.com Glass It's as if Benedict's single ray of light is scattered across the tables like loose jewels or a broken mirror. We sweep and pick through trays of glass, sharp bits of orange and yellow with a blue that's almost black until I hold it to the light, and I am full of a temporary completeness. Even the thunder seems gentle. Alicia Kleiman OSB Review for Religious ERNEST E. LARKIN Aspiratory Prayer, a Welcome Addition to Contemplative Prayer Aspirations (aspiratory prayer) were a treasure in' European Christianity in the late Middle Ages and one of the great legacies of the Touraine Reform in 17th-century France. This reform took place in "les Grands Carmes," the popu-lar name in France for the Carmelites of the Ancient Observance (OCarm). The style of prayer that goes by the name of aspirative or aspiratory prayer, or simply aspiration, is almost unknown in contemporary spirituality. The pre-sent article is a move to fill this lacuna and to suggest how the prayer of aspirations can con-tribute to the contemplative renewal of our times. I will first give an overview of the prayer in tradition and highlight its three outstanding proponents: the 13th-century Carthusian Hugh of Balma, the Franciscan Henry Herp (+1477), and the Carmelite John of St. Samson (1571- Ernest E. Larkin OCarm last wrote in our 64.4 issue (2005). His address remains St. Agnes Catholic Church; 1954 North 24th Street; Phoenix, Arizona 85008. 65.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspirator)/Prayer 1636). Finally I shall make some suggestions on how to revive the practice. What Is Aspiratory Prayer? Aspiratory prayer is a warm, human approach to God that is inexorably affective. It proceeds by way of fer-vent desires of the heart. It was considered a shortcut, a direct route, to intimacy and oneness with God. Its struc-ture is simple: frequent and intense desires breathed out to God. It has only one goal, union with God, so it ceases to have a role when mystical union is achieved. Aspirations are not the same as ejaculations, though they are like each other. E aculatory prayer.describes any to this prayer? ,.:Those and all brief prayers sent like darts to heaven for help, thanksgiving, adora-tion, or any other good motive. "My Jesus, mercy" is an ejaculation. Aspira-tions are only and always passionate desires or fer-vent acts of love of God. They are expressed in words or sighs or silence. "My God, I love you" is an aspiration. To aspire means to breathe out, with the con-notation of breathing hard after something. In aspira-tory prayer one breathes out heartfelt desires for God. It is yearning for God, like gasping for God. Aspiratory prayer is simple and focused, though in the beginning it may cover a wide sweep of emotions and feelings. Practice simplifies and unifies the faculties to give them a single thrust, much as the prayer of sim-plicity consolidates the multiple affections of affective prayer into a single attitude of loving presence. Aspiratory prayer sets the heart on one goal, divine Review for Reli~io~ union, and is a positive step in that direction. Not every-body can use it. It is not for beginners, but for those who have come to know God and themselves through Bible reading, reflection, and loving conversations with God. When a person has put her house in order and has come to love God in truth, she is ready for this prayer. For those who love God, it will become as natural as breathing. Catholic teachers in the past were sticklers in assign-ing different prayer forms to different stages of growth. The prayer of beginners was discursive meditation and affective prayer, that is, first much thinking and ~hen many affections. The next stage was contemplative, and it featured forms like simply looking at the tabernacle as in the Cur6 d'Ars' "I look at him and he looks at me," or today's resting in God in centering prayer, or saying the mantra as in Christian Meditation. Today we prob-ably pay less attention to the degrees of prayer, though we still honor them. Centering prayer and Christian Meditation have democratized contemplative prayer. Certainly some knowledge and love of the Lord is pre-supposed for contemplative prayer, but a little knowl-edge and love go a long way. Those who are comfortable with centering prayer and Christian Meditation will be at home with aspirations. Who, then, are called, to this prayer? Those who are fervent and serious about their relationship with God and have a great desire for intimacy with God. They are look-ing for the "more." The classical teaching placed the prayer in the illuminative way as part of the contempla-tive life. Two categories are involved here, and both are second stages: the illuminative comes between the purga-tive and the unitive way, and the contemplative life between the active and the mystical life. The three divi-sions correspond to beginners, the proficient, and the 65.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspiratory Prayer perfect. Active life has to do with external behavior, con-templative with inner prayer, and the mystical life with high sanctity. The purgative way is concerned with con-version and purification, the illuminative way with enlightenment, and the unitive with union with God. The three ways and their content are criticized today for being too dependent on Neoplatonic philosophy, the system that canonized the immaterial and denigrated the bodily.' Aspirative prayer rises above this controversy and in fact is a corrective against exaggerated spiritual-ism and minimizing the physical and bodily in the spir-itual life. Aspirations welcome and embrace the emotional and the sensible; these human qualities lead to the highest realms of the spirit. They move the experi-ence of God away from the intellectual and into the realm of affection and love.2 Aspiratory prayer comes out of the same tradition as centering prayer and Christian Meditation. The latter two are contemporary constructions from that contem-plative tradition, a development that aspiratory prayer has yet to find. But all three systems appeal to the same sources, the same authors, and even the same texts for their grounding and justification.3 This fact and their constant location in the middle stage of spiritual devel-opment argue to their commonality. Centering prayer and Christian Meditation seek silent presence and quiet resting in God. At the same time they are active prayer, rightly called meditation of a nondiscursive or contemplative type. They are not clas-sical contemplation in the sense of infused prayer, but are products of human effort and ordinary grace. Aspiratory prayer is obviously active in the same sense. It uses the language of intense, passionate love and expresses the yearning of the heart and delights to rest in the Lord. Review for Religious Aspiratory prayer is more than loving conversation with God. It expresses a strong act of the will that desires to experience God. So it is more than a t&e-a-t&e, even in the loving language of affective colloquy. The differ-ence is intensity. Affective prayer engages the feelings but in a diffuse way, whereas a strong will and urgent longings for intimacy dominate aspiratory prayer. Aspirations fit nicely into the perspectives and prac-tice of "love mysticism," which is a form of relating to God in spousal love. The language of spousal love is very human, amorous, and passionate. Its biblical source is the Song of Songs or St. John's Gospel, and it is a fre-quent feature in medieval women mystics and also in writers like St. Bernard or St. John of the Cross. Janet K. Ruffing has written a guide for the spiritual direction of those called to this way. She gives many examples of its language, one of which is the following conversation in Mechthild of Magdeburg, who says to God: "God, you are my lover, / my longing, / my flowing stream, / my sun, / and I am your reflection." And God replies: "It is my nature that makes me love you often, / for I am love itself. / It is my longing that makes me love you intensely, / for I yearn to be loved from the heart. / It is my eter-nity that makes me love you long, / for I have no end.''4 Aspirative prayer is not limited to spousal love. It is at home with a nonspousal love of God, which Janet Ruffing calls simply apophatic. The mysticism of the more matter-of-fact Cloud of Unknowing features whole-hearted love, often without obvious passion. In this lat-ter case the love is sublimated into disinterested love in a style of relationship that is reserved and controlled. Mystics in this pattern will practice their own brand of aspirations. Aspiratory prayer is thus a technical term, but it is not "one size fits all." Its normal form is sensible-spiri- 6~ .3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspiratorg/Prayer 260[ tual love. For Henry Herp only this love qualifies as aspi-ration. For him its follow-up, which is pure spiritual love, is not aspiration, but unitive love. John of St. Samson, however, treats pure spiritual love as a form of aspiration, and for him this higher aspiration leads one into the furnace of God's love in transforming union. For both authors the will is the driving force for aspira-tions and for unitive love. In sensible-spiritual love the sensibility is the carrier, but the momentum comes from the will, which makes the love truly spiritual. Do not think that the practitioner lives on a perpet-ual high. The expression Of loving desires for God con-tinues in down days and dryness as much as in times of sweetness and sensible consolation. The feeling element is still there. It must be genuine, not faked or pretended or forced. Th~r~se of Lisieux is a perfect example of the expression of passionate desires of love for God in the darkest moments of life.5 There are degrees of the practice corresponding to the person's habitual love of God and the grace of the moment. John of St. Samson sees it as leading directly into a mystical expression, in which the Holy Spirit breathes out enflamed desires for God. His conditions for practicing this prayer are demanding. Persons who take up the practice must be mortified, humble, and self-effac-ing as well as robust in health. In his view aspirations go beyond the enthusiasm of a newly baptized Pentecostal or charismatic and belong to persons advanced in the love of God and on fire for the summit. The History and Theology of Aspiratory Prayer Aspiratory prayer flourished in the late Middle Ages in northern Europe, especially the Rhineland and France, from the 13th to the 17th century. At the time of the Touraine Reform, the practice was common in popular Review for Religious religious culture. Aspirative prayer appealed to the archi-tects of Touraine because they saw the practice as dove-tailing with their view of the goal of the Carmelite order, which was to live continuously in the loving presence of God.6 Intimations of aspiratory prayer are found in the New Testament, in St. Augustine and John Cassian, who were contemporaries, in St. Benedict and Guigo II, and in other early authors. The first to give aspirative prayer a central place in the spiritual life was Hugh of Balma, whose Tbeologia Mystica exerted wide influence, partly because it was thought to be the work of St. Bonaventure. Hugh of Balina taught the way of the heart, and aspira-tory prayer was its chief expression. First one must know one's weak self and the goodness of God, since anyone filled with self is unable to yearn for God. This knowl-edge prepares one to rise up to God in "anagogic con-templation." Anagogic contemplation means moving from crea-ture to Creator, from the text of Scripture to the living God, enflamed with desire and love. Such is aspiratory prayer. The love is both natural-spiritual and purely spir-itual, and God is the direct object. The love increases with the simplification and unification of the faculties until ultimately there is mystical union with the Trinity in the high point of the soul called the apex mentis. Henry Herp and John of St. Samson will pick up on these per-spectives and expand them with the help of Jan van Ruusbroec's theology (1293-1381). Hugh had many imitators, especially among the Carthusians, who promoted and developed this teach-ing so effectively that Everard Mercurian, an early gen-eral of the Jesuits, warned the Society about "the Carthusian method of prayer" for fear that its popular-ity would marginalize Ignatian prayer in Spain.7 The 6Y.3 2006 Larkin * Aspiratory Prayer 14th-century anonymous English text The Cloud of Unknowing is likely a Carthusian document, both because it can easily be interpreted as a full exposition of aspira-tory prayer and because its anonymous author may well be .a Carthusian.8 A number of familiar quotations from the book are obviously formulas of aspiratory prayer. Henry Herp OFM (+1447) Henry Herp wrote the first synthesis of the whole spiritual journey around the topic of aspirative prayer. His map is the structure of the soul as delineated by the great Flemish mystical writer Henry Herp wrote the first synthesis'of the~ around the topici of ~aspirativ~ prayer. : ~ o o Jan van Ruusbroec. The soul is three concentric circles, each of them representing a different level of human activity. Herp offers a detailed plan for moving through the outer two levels and arriving at the inner circle of highest union with the Holy Trinity. He lays down instructions for each of the phases of the journey, but his chief contri-bution is to show how aspirative prayer moves one through the middle circle. Ruusbroec calls the three circles "spheres" or "uni-ties," whereas Herp names them mansions or dwelling places like Teresa of Avila. The first is the region of the senses, the second that of the spirit, and the third the "fond" or ground, the dwelling place of the Holy Trinity. One must traverse each level to get to the center, and the way is introversion, a concept that goes back to St. Augustine. Herp calls it "ascension." Persons "ascend," that is, they are lifted up by a sweeping action that carries them through the given circle and toward Review for Religious the center; the searcher for God leaves behind the lesser level or part of it in favor of the higher one. This process of introversion means making the powers on each level converge toward the center. The activity of each level is collapsed into the next step. In this imagery the outer circle of exterior behavior is introverted into the mid-dle circle, and in the middle the lower faculties of the irascible and concupiscible appetites, and of reason and free will, are introverted into the spiritual faculties of intellect, memory, and will. These latter will finish the task and bring the soul into mystical union in the center. The introversion or ascension starts with the outer or exterior circle, which represents the active life. The means set down by Herp for this first introversion are "truth and compassion." Truth means understanding the goodness of God and the bankruptcy of the human, and compas-sion is appreciating God's love and attractiveness. The middle level is the field for aspiratory prayer and unitive love. Aspirations address the "interior infe-rior powers," especially the concupiscible appetite, which in Herp's view has a spiritual quality about it. Unitive love is exercised by the spiritual faculties. Understanding guides the process: hence the importance of regular med-itation and of the use of prepared ejaculations that recall the supreme attraction of God and serve to inflame the soul with love. The awakened will moves the sensory faculties to yearn for God, progressively spiritualizing the person for the work of unitive love, For Herp, uni-tive love takes over the task begun in the lower interior faculties. The acts of pure, unitive love finish the task of the introversion of the spirit level and open the way to the center. In the center the love is fruitive love. The contemplative way is left behind, and the soul now lives the "super-essential life" of oneness with the Trinity, a union that is not ontological but psychological. ¯ ,263 65.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspiratory Prayer Herp offers some good pastoral advice. The stages are to be addressed in order and none can be skipped. Basic conversion is presupposed for undertaking aspira-tory prayer, and that means an adult knowledge of God and one's self and the acquisition of the moral virtues. Aspiratory prayer begins with rote expressions of love and fervor. According to Herp, these feelings crescendo into what he calls an explosion of love, which has its own danger of entrapping the person in the delightful, sen-sible sweetness. The love is gradually purified and becomes the unitive love that will lead the soul into the center. Unitive love too undergoes its own purifications, and the follow-up experiences may be as dark and dry as the initial entry was exalted. The challenge at this point, as at every point in the spiritual life, is marginal-izing the self, that is, letting go of everything that is not God. The holy soul practicing spiritual love will con-tinue to work at the total gift of self to God, and its tasks are listed by Herp as self-offering, searching for God's will, letting God's love destroy all defects, and being united with God. John of St. Samson (1571-1636) John of St. Samson is an immensely important figure in the Carmel of the Ancient Observance. He was a mys-tic of profound experience, and, in spite of the blindness that afflicted him from the age of three, he was well edu-cated and well read, keeping in touch with currents of spirituality in the very rich 17th century. He has been called the French John of the Cross and is highly esteemed by religious historians like Henri Bremond and Louis Cognet. John of St. Samson lived a century and a half after Herp, but Herp's work was well known to him in the numerous Latin and French translations and in the Review for Religious plethora of spiritual writings that popularized aspiratory prayer. John of St. Samson became expert in the teach-ing of this way, building on Herp but adding his own points of view. There had been a lot of writing, but lit-tle development since Herp. After a careful comparison of the two authors, Canisius Janssen concludes that John's doctrine is Herp in a new packaging. "Certain things have been left out," he writes, "others developed; in short the whole has acquired a new face.''9 John belongs to the same Dutch school of mys-ticism as Herp, both of them appropriating the worldview of Ruusbroec. We come from God as created images in the Uncreated Word, and our life goal is to return to our place in the Word in full consciousness of our unity in God. The goal is put I ," bY engaging oi r feetings t " : and iemo.tions. I as well as'our spiriL rather abstractly as "the state of consummation of the subject in the Object" in a "union without difference or distinction." Such is the transforming union, in which the soul is caught up in the fire of the divine life. The way to the goal is introversion according to the same divisions as in Henry Herp, but with the adaptations in nomenclature. John is particularly eloquent is explaining how spir-itual love guides the whole process of introversion once aspirations become the way. Spiritual love is at the heart of sensible-spiritual aspirations, and it constitutes the spiritual aspirations that lead one into the center itself. Aspirations have the genius of putting our full humanity to work by engaging our feelings and emotions as well as 6~.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspirator)/Prayer 266 our spirit. Sensible love is the starter, and it houses the spiritual love in sensible-spiritual aspirations. When the aspirations become "more vigorous, more on fire, and more detached from sense," they are pure spiritual love. This spiritual love, with or without a sensible compo-nent, is the engine that drives the introversion process into the furnace that is God. Aspiration thus has a mystical quality in John, as is clear from the following quotation: Aspiration is not only an affectionate colloquy. ; that is what aspiration is born of and comes forth from. Aspiration, then, is an outpouring of the whole heart and spirit on fire with love. By it the soul quickly tran-scends itself and all of creation, becoming intimately united with God in the intensity of its loving expres-sion. Expressing itself quintessentially in this way, the soul transcends all tender, sensible, cerebral, and com-prehensible love, reaching by the vehemence of God's spirit and its own effort, not just any divine union, but a sudden transformation of its spirit into God. In the abounding and ineffable sweemess of God him-self lovingly embracing one's spirit, it transcends, I say, all familiar and intelligible love. This is the essence of aspiration, in itself, in its cause, and in its effect.1° Heart (that is, the sensibility) and spirit (that is, the loving will) are the framers of aspirations, and heart even-tually recedes in favor of pure spirit. In the beginning there will be multiplicity of thought and feelings, but with growth this richness will give way to ever increas-ing simplicity and a state of pure elevation in God. Intensity is of the essence, since only strong love can break the attachments of the faculties to their natural objects. Frequency is a necessary quality, since the goal is to make aspirations like second nature, as natural as breathing. Humility too is the essential underpinning of all true love. But in all these efforts balance and moder-for Religious ation must prevent any violence or excessive force. John of St. Samson, experienced spiritual director, has good advice on how to begin and how to grow in this beauti-ful practice, and his reflections will help us put our topic in perspective. Who are candidates for this prayer? The prayer is not for everybody. It is not for intellectuals or for shal-low people who live on the surface of things and whose fire burns up quickly like straw. It is for generous souls of strong will who are concerned about their interior life. When to begin? Brother John sees aspirations as a higher form of prayer; hence he is hesitant to promote it indiscriminately. Aware of the dangers of too much emo-tionality as well as its necessary predispositions, he coun-sels against beginning the prayer prematurely. Strain and force must be resisted lest there be physical or psycho-logical harm. It is necessary to guard against a too san-guine assessment of one's love of God. The apostle Peter felt a great love for Jesus that led to presumption and his denial of Jesus in the courtyard. John's basic condition for the practice is a mortified life. He fears the unguarded attraction of the sweetness of this love. So he writes: "To begin this exercise it is absolutely necessary to die to ourselves, to humble ourselves, and to be self-effacing (mepriser)."llJohn is probably thinking of his own novices and their year of novitiate whenhe writes that candi-dates for this prayer should have spent "a good year" in discursive meditation and affective prayer before taking up aspirations. He also warns newcomers that begin-nings will be troublesome, even painful, but practice makes perfect and easy. The process of introversion follows Herp detail for detail. Like Herp, John of St. Samson is lyrical in his descriptions of the outcome of introversion, which is 65.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspiratory Prayer entrance into "the marvelous effects and the spiritual inebriation" of touching the fond or ground of one's being, where the Holy Trinity dwells and the essential union with God takes place. This mystical state is trans-formation in the fire that is God. Aspiratory Prayer in Contemplative Life Today It remains to suggest ways in which this body of teaching can be put into practice in today's contempla-tive setting. A first step, and one that is often presented in the literature, is to connect aspirations with the practice of the presence of God. This means to murmur aspirations frequently during the course of the day to remind one-self of the presence of God and to offer up the present task. This is one application in The Carmelite Directory of the Spiritual Life by John Breninger OCarm and in the works of his student Kilian J. Healy OCarm.~2 A second application is to introduce aspirations into one's daily meditation in whatever form that takes. This will be an affective addition in the nondiscursive medi-tation of Christian Meditation, which features the mantra "Maranatha." The mantra itself could be the vehicle expressing love and desire. Bringing aspiration into cen-tering prayer may be a bit more difficult, since this prayer eschews thinking and emoting. Aspirative prayer may be disruptive of the silence of centering prayer. Perhaps aspirations that are expressed without words and in silence can be a friendly addition and add warmth and fervor to centering prayer. A third way to practice aspirations in one's daily prayer is to structure it much like the two disciplines of contemplative prayer. Periods of aspiratory prayer could be cultivated each day, twenty minutes to a half hour in length, with the whole time given over to aspirations. Review for Religious The aspiration could be a mantra, one phrase repeated over and over again, or it could be spontaneous expres-sions of love and desire. The single mantra may be more compatible with the contemplative nature of the prayer than multiple expressions. Whatever the exact structure aspiratory prayer will take, it will usually be prefabricated and perfunctory in the beginning. But it soon becomes part of one's approach to God in mental prayer. Hopefully it will bring the rich rewards promised by the tradition. Notes ~ Philip Sheldrake, Spirituality and History (New York: Orbis Books, 1995), pp.186-189. 2 Aspiratory prayer is more at home with the language of love than with the Greek categories of contemplation. The literature of the Touraine Reform seems to prefer the evangelical language. One of my esteemed Carmelite teachers and mentors over a lifetime, whose life and studies were dominated by Touraine, frequently showed annoyance at the ambiguities of the vocabulary of contemplation. He preferred to speak of "love" and "loving" as the true measure of prayer rather than dif-ferent forms of "contemplation" or "contemplative." Instead of describ-ing Carmelite life as "contemplative," he preferred the simple word ,prayerful." I interpreted his attitude as a reflection of the viewpoint of Touraine. 3 Canisius Janssen OCarm surveys the sources of aspiratory prayer in the first of two excellent articles on the history and theology of aspira-tory prayer, "Oraison aspirative chez Herp et chez ses pr~d~cesseurs," Carmelus 3 (1956): 19-48. It lists the sources of this prayer in earlier times before its first major exponent, Henry Herp. These sources turn out to be the same texts cited in studies on the roots of centering prayer and Christian Meditation. An example of the latter is Robert W. Ginn's defense against critics, "Centering Prayer: Reviving the Ancient Christian Tradition in Modern Times," a manuscript dated 5/26/05 and circulated by Contemplative Outreach. Janssen's second article is titled "L'oraison aspirative chez Jean de Saint Samson," Carmelus 3 (1956): 185-216. I wish to express my gratitude for these two studies and my indebtedness to them in the formation of the present paper. 4 Spiritual Direction: Beyond the Beginnings (New York: Paulist, 2000), pp. 9-10. Christian mystics from Origen on applied the imagery of the Song of Songs to their relationship with God. St. Th~r~se of Lisieux 65.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspiratory Prayer belongs to this group, and a dominant feature of her prayer was aspira-tion. See Romero de Lima Gouvea OCarm, "Vivre d'amour: la pri~re aspirative chez Th~r~se de l'Enfant Jesus (1873-1897)," Carmelus 47 (2000): 19-40. s See Ernest E. Larkin OCarm, "The Little Way of St. Th~r~se of Lisieux," Review for Religious 59 (September-October 2000): 507-517, at 514-515. 6 The Touraine Reform is not as well known as its counterpart, the Discalced Reform begun by St. Teresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross in 16th-century Spain. Touraine began in Brittany in northwest France in the next century. Like the Discalced Reform, it was a radical return to the primitive spirit of the order. Unlike the Discalced Reform, Touraine did not become juridically separated from the old order, but remained in the trunk and spread to every province as the "strictior observantia." See Kilian J. Healy OCarm, Methods of Prayer in the Directory of the Carmelite Reform of Touraine (Rome: Institutum Carmelitanum, 1956), pp. 15-2 i. 7Janssen, Carmelus 3, p. 27. s This is the conclusion of James Walsh SJ in his introduction to the Classics of Western Spirituality edition of Tbe Cloud of Unknowing (New York: Paulist, 1981). 9 Janssen, Carmelus 3, p. 210. ~°Jean de St. Samson, L'dguillon, les flammes, les fl~cbes, et le miroir de l'amour de Dieu, in Oeuvres completes I, edition critique par Hein Blommestijn (Rome: Institutum Carmelitanum, 1992), p. 98. Aspiration donc n'est pas seulement un colloque affectueux. ; c'est d'icelui que nait et procede l'aspiration. Aspiration donc est un poussement amoureux, enflamm~ de tout le coeur et l'esprit; par lequel l'ame surpasse pronte-ment elle mesme et toute chose cre~e, s'unissant ~troitement ~ Dieu en la vivacit~ de son expression amoureuse; laquelle ainsi .Essentiellement exprim6e, surpasse tout amour sensible, raisonnable, intellectuel et con-prehensible; arrivant par l'impetuosit6 de l'esprit de Dieu et de son effort, ~ l'union de Dieu, non tellement quellement, mais par une soudaine transformation de l'esprit en Dieu. L'esprit, dis-ie, surpasse en lui m~me tout l'amour connessable et intelligible en l'abondante et ineffable suavitd de Dieu mesme, auquel il est amoureusement englouti. Voila que c'est que l'aspiration Essentielle en elle m~me, sa cause et son effet. (The passage is cited by Janssen in the article on John of St. Samson, p. 195. The translation has been made from the text in the c.ritical edition cited above.) li Janssen, Carmelus 3, p. 204. 12 The translation of the Directorium Carmelitanum was made from the Latin by Leo J. Walter OCarm (Chicago: Carmelite Press, 1951). See Review for Religious also Kilian J. Healy, Walking with God (New York: Declan X. McMullen, 1948), reprinted as Awakening Your Soul to the Presence of God (Manchester, New Hampshire: Sophia Institute Press, 1999); see also his chapter in Methods of Prayer, pp. 60-75. Reflection Questions 1. What have I learned about aspiratory prayer as I have read Larkin's article? 2. How might I begin to make aspiratory prayer a daily part of my prayer life? Growing Old The new hearing aid magnifies sounds I've not heard for years and discover I haven't missed. It is not my ears that hear the call to live the soul's desire. I can see tiny print with trifocals but not the messages in everything. I can no longer storm heaven's gates, have lost the need to do so. I am learning to wait gracefully with gratitude for them to open from inside. I am preparing to accept the invitation to eternity. "Growing old" begins with growing. Bonnie Thurston 6~.3 2006 PHILIP SHAN0 "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises A few words by St. Ignatius Loyola in the Contemplation of the Kingdom of Jesus Christ (§§91-98) have been .understood to refer to "repose days." 1 Ignatius says, "This exercise [the kingdom] should be gone through twice during the day, that is, in the morning on rising and an hour before dinner, or before supper" (§99).2 George E. Ganss SJ describes this day as "a transitional day of relative repose with only two peri-ods prescribed." 3 It is Ignatius's introduction to the rest of the retreat. In a note Louis Puhl SJ says Ignatius's words show that the "kingdom" day is a "day intervening between the First and Second Weeks.''4 In this study we will look at the historical roots of the contemporary notion of repose days in the hope of raising some ques-tions for spiritual directors to discuss in their planning of Twentieth Annotation (thirty-day) versions of the Spiritual Exercises. Philip Shano SJ is novice director and superior at the Jesuit Novitiate of the North American Martyrs; 1035 Summit Avenue; St. Paul, Minnesota 55105. Review for Religious An early historical reference to a repose day comes from the directory of Father Juan Alfonso de Polanco, Ignatius's secretary. Polanco's directory, completed years after Ignatius's death, is generally considered the finest of those which preceded the official Directory in 1599, pre-sumably because of his closeness to Ignatius. Polanco says of this day during the retreat: "When it is time for the exercitant to move on, he should be allowed to catch his breath by giving him the meditation on the kingdom of Christ to be made twice, once in the morning and once in the evening. On that day nothing else should be given. Then, toward evening, he should be given the exercise on the incarnation to be made the next day at daybreak.''5 Note, the retreatant "should be allowed to catch his breath." Similar words are used in later directories--"as he catches his breath for a bit.''6 An anonymous direc-tory dating from the 1580s speaks of the retreatant tak-ing "a rest from his exertions until evening.''7 The directory of Father Gil Gonzfilez Dfivila, from about 1587, says the retreatant "should rest., without being given the usual load of exercises. He may, however, occupy himself with some easy meditation suited to'this time.''8 Finally, the "Official Directory of 1599" brings together some of the earlier directories: "After their gen-eral confession and Communion, those planning to con-tinue the Exercises beyond the First Week should take at least a day's rest from the intense labor of meditation. However, in the meantime they can think over and apply to themselves the parable of the Prodigal Son or some-thing similar. Moreover, they should be given a prepa-ration for their Communion so that they will approach it with reverence, faith, and spiritual relish. They should be given some suitable meditation for this.''9 A present-day handbook for directors of the Spiritual Exercises suggests that, in order to deepen the grace of 65.3 2006 Sbano ¯ "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises the First Week, it is important to have a day of easier presence to the Lord. "The desirable thing is simply to enjoy the day with the Lord, rejoicing in his love and praising him. This time precedes the meditation on the Call of the King, and it is not a break day. Some directors refer to the day that separates any two major sections of the Exercises as a ¯ - break day. Others call it a day of repose. Whatever the words used, this day provides time for transition from one empha-sis to another. It usually includes . some relaxation ~ ~- from the intensity of the retreat . Relaxing after the First Week and preparing to enter the Second Week, the retreatant con-siders the material in one prayer period before taking the break and another at its conclusion.''1° It is clear from early directories that the idea was to give the exercitant a pause and then, later that same day, to resume the usual rhythms of the retreat. Considering that Ignatius is known for attentiveness to every detail of a retreatant's life, it is my assumption that he did not see any problem with having repose days. Considering that the Exercises were generally given to individuals, it is furthermore my assumption that repose days were dis-cerned together by the director and the retreatant with a view to the retreatant's particular needs at that juncture. That is, director and reteatant were not ruled by a cal-endar date set for the convenience of someone or some Repose days becom important intensity relievers during anyone's Twentieth Annotation experie de of the Spiritual Exercises. group. Review for Religious Repose days become important intensity relievers dur-ing anyone's Twentieth Annotation experience of the Spiritual Exercises, an experience where "the exercitant withdraws from all friends and acquaintances, and from all worldly cares" (~20). These days fit into the Exercises as helpful pauses. They are not a move away from the retreat, but an approach to it from a different angle. In his look at the kingdom, William Peters sJ observes a number of stylistic differences (this "strangely structured exercise") from the other exercises. He sees "Ignatius's rather exceptional way of proceeding" here as a part of Ignatius's intention that "the retreatant is given a day of rest, of repose, a day to recuperate after the strenuous efforts of the First Week." 11 Peters's view on the place of the "rather gentle consideration" of the kingdom exercise within the entire retreat downplays the kingdom.12 He sees the "transition" day as revealing Ignatius's real pur-pose, namely, "the relationship between the unfaithful courtier and his king." 13 For Peters, the exercise is a low-key consideration, destined for a day of repose. Most directors of the Spiritual Exercises include one, two, or three repose days in the structure of the retreat. Days of repose are an integral part of the Twentieth Annotation retreat. On these days, being with the Lord interiorly and yet dealing with some ordinary aspects of life has an intensity that affects retreatants. The repose "day" is a period of the retreat (several hours ideally) when one steps back from the four or five periods of prayer that are normally recommended to retreatants. On a day of repose, individuals take a break or a "pause" from their normal retreat activity. When the retreat involves a group, the day might involve a common out-ing, a picnic or something similar. It does not mean that retreatants do not pray that day. The repose day is a break from the intense prayer of the retreat mode--noth- 65.3 2006 Sbano * "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises 276 ing more. That break from intensity is important. The retreatant may not feel the need for a break, but spiritual directors can perceive from their vantage point that a break is essential for the person, especially if they have prayed with matters of great importance in their lives. In a few cases, individuals make the Spiritual Exercises on their own, meeting daily with their spiritual director. More commonly, individuals make their indi-vidual retreats in a group (at a spirituality center, as a class of Jesuit novices, and so on). Exercitants experi-ence repose days differently when they are alone or in a group. Those making their retreat on their own take a break from the usual prayer pattern, but they may or may not interact with others (such as the host commu-nity, their family, or their religious community). What is crucial is the pause from the intensity of the retreat. On the other hand, those making individual retreats within a group are ipso facto doing more than taking a pause. They are interacting with other retreatants, per-sons who are experiencing diverse spiritual movements. Whether intended or not, such repose days contribute to the good of community-building. Before the repose day, savvy directors ask retreatants not to compare retreat experiences during the repose day, but to restrict their communal conversation to "safe" topics: comical moments they had together, favorite or least favorite meals, the weather, and so forth. Inevitably, however, many make comparisons during that day. "Why is that young man so enthused and gung ho about his experi-ence? Why is that woman so serious and intense about hers? What's wrong with that man who seems so dour and sad? Why does that older man seem so self-assured and so clearly ahead of me?" Regardless of how many times the directors point out that there is no "ahead" or "behind" in the spiritual life (it operates on God's time!), Review for Religious retreatants, especially those in the midst of many interior movements, tend to quantify and measure their spiritual life. Competition in life is not always explicit; often it is beneath the surface. Hardly realizing it, retreatants may ask themselves, "Why am I so blas~ compared with that person's energy and zeal? Why am I so slow compared with that person's apparent pace? Thank God I'm not as disengaged as that person seems to be!" Competition readily occurs whether we recognize it, acknowledge it, give words to it, or not. A common date for a repose day for an entire group of retreatants results from the pace and structure of life today: the calendars of all the spirituality-center workers, all the directors, and all the retreatants and the desire to "make sure it all works out neatly." Whether the directors feel that their retreatants are ready for the repose day or not, the general pattern 6 n n[date or la repqye daY for an entire group of retre tants i r"esuits f orn pace ¯and stru tureoflife today. is to give them all a repose day together and then to work around the movements it causes or interferes with. For Ignatius, the spiritual life was marked by spiritual movements. Whether consolation or desolation or ambi-guity, there is movement. That movement requires dis-cernment. That is why he included so many rules for the discernment of spirits in his text, so many details that seem obsessive to the casual reader. Retreatants in a state of serious prayer are already shaped by movements and stirrings. On a repose day with other retreatants, they will inevitably "breathe in" other persons' movements, regard-less of their director's instructions. They have a way of being almost "allergic" to the movements of others. 65.3 2006 Stsano ¯ "Repose Days" during the I~natian Exercises 278i In twenty years of directing the Spiritual Exercises, I have rarely encountered an aware and prayerful per-son who returned from a repose day without being moved interiorly in some way. How do retreatants and their directors discern these movements? Many retreatants can acknowledge the movements and get back to the business of the retreat. Others get "hooked," whether on consolation or desolation. It may be a momentary enthusiasm or aggravation or, on the other hand, a movement that goes to the very heart of who the person is. A wise director needs to be attentive to this and find ways to deal with it head-on. One wants to ensure that the movement does not interfere with the significant movements that Ignatius is seeking in the discernment of the Second Week. Sometimes it is movement that is important to the per-son's prayer, for instance, an insight into a way of pro-ceeding in relationships. Sometimes it is an unhelpful distraction, taking the person "off course" with a con-versation about church or state politics. Many directors fail to ask enough questions about the repose day and its movements in people. They may say to themselves, "Well, both of us have had a good break and now we can move on to the Second Week," and fail to find any deeper meanings in it. Ignatius would want some probing, as he implies in the Sixth Annotation .when he urges directors to ask about the supposedly peripheral aspects of the day (§6). The day of r.epose may easily have caused the retreatant to go into a tailspin, one that could last for several days. Directors who are unsavvy may assume all kinds of reasons for the discouragement, tepidity, or lethargy. The reasons could be much closer to home. The movement could, indeed, reveal important aspects of how God is working with the person. It could also be a move-ment that distracts the person from the ways of God. Review for Religious Communal interaction is good, but, like any "good," it needs to be discerned. One can easily be deceived by its seeming goodness, but sometimes the movement on a repose day can be advantageous to a retreatant. The woman who was apathetic or tepid up till then may com-pare herself with others and realize that she has to get more serious about the spiritual life and her patterns of prayer. The man who was too intense and racing may real-ize that he needs to be more discreet, deliberate, and paced about his prayer. I refer to these movements as "the grace of the repose day." It can spur a tepid person or slow down a fast-paced person. But there can also be serious disad-vantages. What if the movement is artificial? What if the movement from the repose day interferes with movements that were already going on in a person's prayer? What, then, are some of the things that wise and cun-ning spiritual directors need to be aware of when they direct individuals of a group making a retreat, one that includes repose days that may come along at times that are inconvenient to their retreatants' natural movements? First and most essential is the need for discernment. Directors should not think that they are wasting their time, but that they are helping.the exercitant to appro-priate the repose day's meaning for their prayer. Many directors recommend, or even guide retreatants through, an examen of consciousness to discern exactly what the repose time included: life-giving or life-draining con-versations, feelings of gratitude or impatience, of hope or ennui. Quite often the fifth rule (§3 3 3) of the Rules for the Discernment of Spirits for the Second Week is men-tioned. There Ignatius has the retreatant look at the whole course of events pertaining to a spiritual move-ment-- the beginning, middle, and end. Perhaps the exercitant can be asked to read other Rules for Discernment as well. 65.3 2006 Sbano * "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises A second thing regarding a scheduled day of repose for the individuals of a group is that some individuals are ready for that repose day and some are not. If all make it, comparisons will be made regardless of directors' urging not to make them. Directors should ask them-selves, "Should this particular retreatant do the repose day or not? Considering where the person is, will a repose day help or hinder the movements he or she is experiencing?" We can easily be caught by "groupthink" and assume that a ~ o. ~ :' .~.'~ person should havea ,question ~ repose day simply " ~ because the calendar lists it for the conve-nient operation of the retreat center. The truly discerning question is whether or not the individual is ready for a breather. For the per-son who takes part in the repose day (or does not), what instructions should be given? I would recommend not giving the retreatant a repose day just because everyone else is doing it. Directors should ask, "Will this retreatant benefit from the repose day?" The Spiritual Exercises are for the retreatant. Retreatants should not have to bend to accommodate themselves to the schedule of the spirituality center or the team of directors. Third is the structure and length of the repose day. The early directories do not give the impression that there Was a full day of repose. Yet the increasingly common practice is to lengthen the day and perhaps forgo the daily direction period. Teams of directors need to ask carefully what they will suggest for the day. One retreat center's Web site says that a repose day is a good day for an out-ing to a local mall. The cynical mind would see this activ- The truly disce?nihg is whether ,or not the individual is ready for.a breather. 280 Review for Religious ity as giving the retreatant suitable prayer material for the Two Standards meditation coming in just a few days, as if retreatants do not have enough data already. Another director might wonder what a trip to a mall could offer someone who is praying for poverty and the Third Degree of Humility. The length of the day also requires team dis-cussion and discernment. What is the right length--for time to breathe but not go into a tailspin. The practice of repose days is often taken for granted. Directors and teams do not ask enough questions about it. The aim of this article has been to encourage ques-tioning. Notes ~ This note on "repose days" was inspired by three Jesuit novices whose retreat I directed. By their experiences, openness, and questions, Vincent Strand nSJ, Brian Rademacher nSJ, and Christopher Krall nSJ never stopped quietly calling me to move forward in faith. I offer them these words in gratitude. 2 Spiritual Exercises, §99. Unless noted, all quotations to the Exercises are from the translation by Louis J. Puhl SJ, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1951). 3 George E. Ganss SJ, The Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius: A Translation and Commentary (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1992), p. 159. 4 Puhl, p. 177. s Number 62 in "Directory of Juan.Alfonso de Polanco," in Martin E. Palmer SJ, On Giving the Spiritual Exercises: The Early Jesuit Manuscript Directories and the Official Directory of I Y99 (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996), p. 131. The Latin text is: "Peracta confessione generali, cum ulterius progrediendum est, ut respiret qui exercetur, meditatio de regno Christi ei proponetur, quae bis fiet, mane scilicet et vesperi; et pro illo die alia non proponantur; deinde sub vesperam Exercitium incar-nationis proponetur, postridie faciendum in aurora." 6 Number 81 in "Directory of Father Antonio Cordeses," in Palmer, p. 275. 7 Number 60 in "A Short Directory for Giving the Society's Exercises Effectively," in Palmer, p. 212. ~ Number 87 in "The Directory of Father Gil Gonz~ilez Dgvila," in Palmer, p. 250. 65.3 2OO6 Sbano * "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises 9 Number 140 in "The Official Directory of 1599," in Palmer, p. 318. 10 Marian Cowan CSJ and John Carroll Futrell SJ, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola: A Handbook for Directors (Denver, Ministry Training Services, 1981), p. 69. 11 William A.M. Peters SJ, "The Kingdom: The Text of the Exercise," Way Supplement 18 (Spring 1973): 9. ~2 Peters, pp. 16 and 11. ~3 Peters, p. 13. 282] Tinsel in August Scraps of it, in the evening grass, Left over from last Christmas's tree Dragged by its stump to its shreddedness, Casting garlands and crowns on its path, Still catch moon-sparks - like the cat With tinsel eyes, going forth into night With glitter afoot from May's prom-party Dress, and June's wedding gown, that drifted Crystal and spangles over the family pets, Over carpeting, over dancers and through cracks In the house. Overhead now, the tinsel Of summer stars slowly shreds with the sullen Advance of thunder and sheet-tinsel garlanding Horizons far to the West. Cat-tag tinseling, Lucifur comes home wet from his tryst. Nancy G. Westerfield Review for Religious CHARLES P. FARRAR Gerard Manley Hopkins's "Lantern out of Doors": A Contemplative Response to Loss Seometimes the clearest way to describe an experi-nce is metaphorically. When an experience is unique and mysterious, we link it to something more common to make it more understandable. According to its Greek roots, metaphor means "to carry across." A well-conceived metaphor carries meaning across from one plane to another, thereby elevating the reader's con-sciousness. Metaphors have always been effective in the deft hands of writers of good spiritual theology: they suggest insights about God. The English Jesuit Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889) was a master of the spiritual metaphor. His poems' everyday images elevate readers' minds to fresh spiritual understandings. In the follow-ing sonnet a lantern conveys the experience of loss. Charles P. Farrar works as a hospital chaplain in Detroit. His address is 1930 Piper Drive, apt. 204; Rochester Hills, Michigan 48307. 65.3 2006 Farrar ¯ Lantern out of Doors 284, The Lantern out of Doors Sometimes a lantern moves along the night. That interests our eyes. And who goes there? I think; where from and bound, I wonder, where, With, all down darkness wide, his wading light? Men go by me whom either beauty bright In mould or mind or what not else makes rare: They rain against our much-thick and marsh air Rich beams, till death or distance buys them quite. Death or distance soon consumes them: wind V~at most I may eye after, be in at the end I cannot, and out of sight is out of mind. Christ minds: Christ's interest, what to avow or amend There, dyes them, heart wfnts, care hfunts, foot f611ows kfnd, Their rfnsom, their rescue, find first, ffst, last frMnd.1 The metaphor here, developing gradually through the two quatrains and the first tercet, is wonderfully subversive. What we think is a lyrical reflection about an ordinary event surprisingly turns out to be much more. The speaker leads us from a concrete observation (a nighttime lantern moving through the speaker's vision), to a more abstract observation about how the lives of beautiful people "go by" him until they disappear from view. What Hopkins is "carrying across" is the striking similarity between the way nighttime travelers pass by on the road and the way peo-ple come and go in our lives. But that is not all. In the last tercet he carries us to another plane of meaning, making a beautiful Christological statement: that Christ can do something which we cannot. He can keep up loving friendships with all those people whose departure from our lives had sad-dened us. This metaphor has carried us contemplatively from an everyday observation to--presto!--the healing of that sadness of ours. Review for Rdigious The first line and a half moves smoothly enough. Then we are jarred by "who goes there?" Suddenly the speaker becomes aware that the moving lantern implies a person. In lines 3 and 4 he drifts into a reverie about the whence and whither of the person "wading" like a lantern through a sea of darkness. All he knows of the person are the few moments of light present amid o.bscurity. The second stanza reflects on the beauty of certain people in the speaker's life, whether physical or internal beauty ("in mould or mind"). Such people are "bright" and "rare," like lanterns in the dark, like "rich beams" that "rain" against the "marsh air" of our mundane life. Notice how subjective this is. He is not primarily describ-ing the beauty in these people or the brightness in the lanterns. Rather he describes how these qualities affect him. (In this way Hopkins follows the tradition of Romantic poets like Wordsworth, Keats, and Rilke.) Consequently, when in line 8 these people leave the speaker's ken by "death or distance," they, for all intents and purposes, cease to exist. The word "quite" in line 8 seems to mean "completely." They disappear com-pletelyJhow tragic! The next tercet (lines 9-11) is a bit twisty to under-stand. And appropriately enough, for the action is the speaker's vain effort to keep these people in view as they go down a winding, twisting road. The Hopkins scholar Peter Milward says: "How eagerly soever he follows the winding steps of such men as they recede into the dark-ness, he cannot 'be in at the end'--that is, follow their subsequent history to its end.''2 The speaker concludes this thought with the clich6"out of sight is out of mind"--as though he is too numb emotionally to come up with a fresh phrase. We cannot help being struck by the loneliness of all this. The poem tells us nothing about these beautiful 65.3 2006 Farrar ¯ Lantern out of Doors The poem tells us nothi 2,861 lantern-like people. It does not reveal any empathy toward them; there is no relationship here. All that mat-ters is how the speaker feels: he sees them as "interesting," "beautiful," "bright," and "rare," and his seeing falls short. It seems he is psychologically trapped inside his own emotions. Notice how, for emphasis, Hopkins chimes the "I" sound three times in: "I about" thkse behut l may eye after, be in at the ¯ "~"~v~,~ia'tern*liv°'~a'i~ ~,,, end / I cannot." To find any happiness, he must be rescued from this solipsistic sighing. The rescue comes quickly in the last three lines. Simply by the sound of them, the reader senses that the speaker's mood has picked up. Thanks to Hopkins's "sprung rhythm," it all bursts to life sis-boom-bah. After lamenting that the beautiful persons disappear from his own mind, the speaker quickly adds that in Christ's mind they live on. Christ, too, is "interested" in those beauti-ful people, but his interest is objective, not subjective. He is interested, not in his feelings about them, but in their welfare. He never fails to "avow" all that is good in them, and he works to "amend" whatever they fail in. The words "~yes them, heart wfints, care hfiunts, foot f611ows kind" run together breathlessly,3 demonstrating an urgency of concern. This urgency, however, comes, not from last-ditch hopes groping in the darkness, but rather from the desire of Christ's heart. It comes from Christ's unconditional interest in them, not because of some particular beauty in them, but simply because of God's unfailing love for them. Christ can succeed where the speaker of the poem fails. His omniscient vision "eyes" all people without Review for Religious interruption. The speaker gladly acknowledges that from heaven our Lord gazes on them perpetually. And his "foot" can "follow" them without interference. This phrase "foot follows kind," incidentally, is a remarkable terse statement of the mystery of the incarnation. Thanks to the Son's taking on a human nature, he can "follow" us, as of one "kind" with him.4 As Hebrews puts it, "since the one who saves and those who are being saved have a common origin, Jesus does not hesitate to treat them as a family.''5 Being divine, Christ can follow us; with a human nature, he cannot help following us. From this, the sonnet's last line flows smoothly, both in its music and its logic. Being our "rescue" (the Messiah saves us from death) and our "ransom" (his sacrifice itself saves us), he has proven himself to be our "first, fast, last friend." Friendship is what the lantern-seeker yearns for but is denied. Abiding friendship, however, is precisely the promise which Christ fulfills.6 From the speaker's existential, self-absorbed lament about his unfulfilled affection for certain beautiful people, he arrives at a place of peace. His conviction that Christ's love for these peo-ple is complete, unlike his own, consoles him. One apparent weakness in the argument of this poem is that the conclusion seems to have been reached too facilely. It seems superficial or unreal that the speaker could assuage his sadness simply by calling Christ to mind. A study of Hopkins's life, however, suggests that the bur-den of this poem was likely learned and earned through a real personal struggle. One episode in his life shows how this sonnet may be somewhat autobiographical. In the winter of 1865, when he was a twenty-year-old Oxford student, he met a young man several years his junior named Digby Dolben. Dolben's cousin Robert Bridges appears to have asked Hopkins the favor of help-ing the younger man gain admission into Oxford. Dolben 65.3 2006 Farrar ¯ Lantern out of Doors was unforgettably vivacious and artistic. The two young men shared a passion for religion and poetry composi-tion. According to Hopkins's celebrated biographer Robert Bernard Martin, Dolben must have made a pow-erful impression on Hopkins's soul.7 His feelings, how-ever, were ambivalent: he relished this friendship, but also struggled with his desire to deepen it. When cir-cumstances required that Dolben move away later that same year, Hopkins was left feeling empty. When he learned of his friend's tragic drowning two years after-wards, he was devastated. Although Hopkins did not elaborate on these feel-ings in his letters or journals, there is a laconic journal entry from 1873: "I received as I think a great mercy about Dolben." This line was written immediately after a ten day spiritual retreat. It is remarkable that this per-son, with whom he had enjoyed communication only for a number of months, would be on his mind all these years later. It is more remarkable that the memory would surface as a consolation after a time of intense prayer. What had been going on in Hopkins's mind all this time? I believe the "Lantern out of Doors" provides a key. The connection between this episode and the sonnet-- albeit speculative--is compelling. Dolben's passing through Hopkins's life was much like the poem's lantern. In Hopkins's quiet and introverted life, Dolben's effer-vescent personality and artistic sensibilities must have been "rich beams" glinting in Hopkins's "marsh air." Moreover, Dolben's departure, first by "distance," then by "death," probably left him feeling much as the poem's first eleven lines leave us readers feeling. We can speculate that Hopkins tried to cope with this predicament psychologically. At this time he was embarking upon an earnest spiritual journey, one which would lead him first to become Catholic and then to join Review for Religious the Society of Jesus. It was a fertile time for him, spiri-tually and artistically. His journals and letters give ample evidence of a soul immersed in wonder and contempla-tion. Hopkins's Ignatian spiritual formation inspired him to seek God's presence in all things. Doubtless, his sad-ness about Digby Dolben entered into his contem-plative exercises. That journal entry referring to the mercy he received about Dolben was most likely a fruit of these devotions. The inspiration of the last three lines of the sonnet might, then, have flowed quite naturally. In a moment of contemplating Christ, the consolation mer-cifully came to him concerning Christ's invincible friend-ship with Dolben. If we could indulge in further conjecture about this sort of contemplation, it is reasonable to suppose that a key might be found in St. Ignatius's Spiritual Exercises. For Hopkins as a Jesuit, this text could have been foun-dational; any experience of consolation could well have been understood in its light. One teaching in the Exercises stands out. The fourth point of the Contemplation to Attain Divine Love instructs the exercitant "to consider how all blessings and gifts descend from above. My lim-ited power, for example, comes from the supreme and infinite power from above. In like manner, justice, good-ness, pity, mercy, etc., descend from above just as the rays from the sun, the waters from the spring, etc.''8 Here one is being directed from a consciousness of blessings and gifts toward a contemplation of the God from whom they descend. It is plausible to imagine the 65.3 2006 Farrar * Lantern out of Doors 290 young Hopkins--still staggered by the radiant gifts that Dolben had brought into his life--in an effort to come to terms with his loss, contemplating the infinite power of Christ, who made these gifts shine through his late friend. And would this not have inspired Hopkins to trust that Christ's light will continue to shine upon and through Dolben for all eternity. Whether Hopkins can see it or not, he can still experience the healing which comes from the conviction that his friend is in very good hands. As Peter Milward elegantly puts it, "the last word 'friend' emphasizes the truth that the 'lantern out of doors' has its end in the love of Christ.''9 Perhaps many of us have had similar struggles and breakthroughs. I, for one, am constantly reminded of feelings of attraction toward the lantern-like people in my life: and also of the helpless sadness of separation. One example comes to mind, which arose out of my work as a hospital chaplain. I responded to a patient's request to visit him. Let us call him John. We enjoyed a rich conversation, about an hour long, about his spiritual his-tory, his family, his hopes for the future, and the mean-ing of life in general. It was the same the next two days. These visits were very fulfilling for me. It was no trou-ble for me to squeeze my schedule to find time for John. On the fourth day, to my surprise, the bed was empty. I discovered he had been discharged just a short time ago. A flood of questions came to mind: What did this mean? Was he feeling better? Why didn't he tell me he was leaving? This last question vexed me most. Like the sonnet's lantern-watcher, my thoughts were more on my letdown than on John's welfare. I felt guilty about that. I also felt guilty about getting so close to a patient. I remembered the hoary old adage of Clinical Pastoral Education: "Be careful about letting the ministry be a satisfaction for your personal needs." Review for Religious But why should I deny the good feelings that these visits with John had given me? They made me feel valu-able as a chaplain, and I wanted more. Like Hopkins contrasting the "much-thick and marsh air" of his mun-dane life with the "rich beams" some people's lives send forth, I wanted to feel that light. It helped me feel com-petent and useful. It gave my ministry an emphatic sense of purpose. I felt connected with this patient and wanted to connect some more. Then, like a lantern in the night, he was gone. I wish I could say that I rebounded immediately and arrived at a profound conviction akin to the insight of the last tercet in Hopkins's sonnet. But to this day I still feel some emptiness about John. As I later spoke with a friend about this, I realized how much emptiness there is in my heart about the many interesting people who have passed into and then out of my life. While I may not have "gotten over" the various sorts of grief occasioned by these losses, I often experience moments of consola-tion about them. I will find myself in the Liturgy, in prayer, in a conversation with someone, or reading, for instance, when some kind of assurance mysteriously comes. It is a consoling belief that Christ is watching over all God's children, that somehow they are all safe in his care. My attempts to analyze or describe these moments of consolation invariably, end in futility. What I can say is that they give me peace. I suppose what hap-pens is that my attention graciously moves from my own self-centered emptiness about the loss to a contemplation of where these individuals are in Christ's perspective, that is to say, watched over, loved, cared for by him. They are welcomed into friendship by their "first, fast, last friend." There are manifold ways to deal therapeutically with loss. Books teaching cognitive techniques consistently 65.3 2006 Farrar ¯ Lantern out of Doors find their place on bestseller lists. Granting the effec-tiveness of these techniques, I hope that believers will also consider the simple insight offered by this lovely poem. I hope we will forever keep our hearts open to seeing that those who have journeyed beyond our eye-sight remain within our Savior's. And there is a consol-ing corollary, that Christ watches my lantern too. Notes 1 Norman H. MacKenzie, ed., The Poetical Works of Gerard Manley Hopkins (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1992), no. 113, p. 40. 2 Peter Milward, A Commentary on the Sonnets of G.M Hopkins (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1985), p. 62. 3 This effect is aided by the fact, as Milward (p. 63) observes, that the accents are on the verbs. 4 "Kind" has a double meaning here, nature and benevolence. These meanings are especially lovely in contrast to the rhymes (1) "mind" in the phrase "out of mind" and (2) "wind," the speaker's futile visual pursuit of the lanterns' apparent windings. The suggestion in the word "kind" is that the remedy for the speaker's sadness is that Christ is of a kind with us and is kind as well. s Hebrews 2:11, from Eugene H. Peterson, trans., The New Testament in Contemporary Language (Colorado Springs: NavPress, 2002). 6 See John 15:13-15. 7 Robert B. Martin, Gerard Manley Hopkins:/1 Very Private Life (London: Harper, 1991), pp. 80-170. 8 The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, trans. Anthony Mottola (New York: Doubleday, 1964), p. 104. 9 Milward, Commentary, p. 63. Review for Religious RAYMOND R. RYAN Today's Candidates: Who Are They, What Do They Expect? Occasionally, as I try to explain to interested questioners what is going on in the novitiate, their eyes glaze over and I hear them internal-izing W.C. Fields's famous comment, "There's less here than meets the eye." Actually there is much more here than meets the eye. Formation today is dynamic, not static; not only for "them," but also for "us." Otherwise it is only a game, a series of hoops to be jumped through with blithe disregard for the future. Concern for that future, however, has prompted a great deal of research on the char-acteristics of today's candidates for religious life and priesthood. Perhaps a few findings from that research will help us better understand our new-comers, our novices. The fall 2004 issue of Touchstone, the official publication of the Raymond R. Ryan OSA, a former novice director, writes from the Augustinian Provincialate; 20300 Governors Highway; Olympia Fields, Illinois 60461. being religious 65.3 2006 Ryan * Today's Candidates ConversiOff iS ctnii iuou s through: initia[ a nd formation, and.it n ver s opS.i National Federation of Priests' Councils, features an arti-cle by Dominican Andrew Carl Wisdom: "Why Every Generation Matters in Preaching." He indicates that every congregation is made up of four or five distinct commu-nities: Builders (1901.-1924), Silent Generation (1925- 1942), Baby Boomers (1943-1964), Generation X (1964-1981), and Millennials (1981-present). He chal-lenges preachers to be aware of this intergenerational phe-nomenon and address homilies to each generation. It is not uncommon for a novitiate class or a postnovitiate for-mation community to have three generations represented. One of those younger men puts it this way: "I am not simply in formation, but in a real sense in re-for-mation. I am already someone with a full life, commitments, and deeply held con-victions. I don't know that the order is all that ready for people like me." Another, reflecting on his for-mation experience, remarks: "It is understood that we all have faults and reach various levels of maturity dur-ing different stages of our li~'es. However, it is of par-ticular concern when . . . one who has a reasonable, relatively healthy sense of self is now in formation with others who are considerably younger or much older, or have not yet resolved such pressing identity issues as their own sexuality. A formation team must be equipped to recognize and address such disparities within a for-mation community, rather than treat everyone with a one-size-fits-all approach." These observations make us aware that formation today is quite a venture. The two brothers quoted had Review for Religious good insights. One looks for re-formation. For the other, one-size-fits-all formation can be deformation. Obviously, intergenerational living with various levels of maturity and immaturity not only is a challenge, but can be a heavy cross. We who are supposedly "formed" can attest to how adult immaturity adversely affects our communal life. Before mentioning some formation components as they relate to today's candidates, I quote Msgr. Dennis Sheehan, senior Catholic chaplain at Harvard University, regarding some current candidates: Today's seminarian is older and more experienced . My fear is that at times we will form a priest accord-ing to all the directives and requirements. But, if he has not tracked that with the ongoing conversion of his intellectual, moral, and religious life, we are likely to find a formed priest who is only a partial Christian. ¯ . In this generation, when so many come to us chronologically and psychologically older, it is far more difficult to change basic assumptions. They will learn the Scriptures and theology and pass examina-tions . . . but then what? Often enough they can become a canonical enforcer. The collaborative can-didate becomes a clerical Caesar. (Seminary Journal, fall 2004) While Msgr. Sheehan is concerned with priesthood can-didates, his observation can also apply to candidates for religious life. His concern is that both initial and con-tinuing formation be considered matters of unending conversion, a quite Augustinian outlook. Life is a con-tinuing call to change and grow. Conversion, then, is continuous through initial and continuing formation and it never stops. For this reason, today's formation programs have both a strong programmatic component, which presents the elements of Catholic, Christian, and Augustinian (or Benedictine, Franciscan, and so forth) spirituality, and a 65.3 2006 Ryan ¯ Today's Candidates 296 personal/communal component. The latter has four interconnected goals, asking each candidate to: ¯ know himself and his stow; ¯ commit to building and sustaining healthy intimacy in his life; ¯ learn, or continue to learn, and understand that integration is a lifelong process. The gospel calls us to work at continuing conversion and to invite others into that lifelong and life-giving call from the Lord; ¯ allow himself to live in the tensions encountered, accepting that these are a part of integration. We cannot always reconcile tensions or "fix" things. God's presence is experienced just as surely in darkness as in light. The practice of solitude brings perspective, sometimes peace, but always a centering in Jesus, self, and others in our actual circumstances. These goals are spelled out more concretely in some of the following ways. Candidates have spiritual directors at all levels of initial formation. Directors meet those in formation monthly. The history and continuing stoW of God's call is a part of these discussions. When I was in a peer supervision group while novice director, our facil-itator, a Dominican sister with age, wisdom, and grace asked us, usually at a time of conflict or self-doubt, "And what's going on in you right now as you relate your stow?" I did not like the question, even after four and a half years in the group. Why? Because it forced me to clarify what I did not want to face or did not want to integrate into my life. Indeed, sharing ourselves brings deeper self-knowledge and a deeper realization that, the more personal the problem, the more universal it is. Formation today, along with the previously men-tioned personal elements, encourages the communal dimension, in ways perhaps strange or at least fleetingly uncomfortable to some. The "climate check," which we Review for Religious in our province used, is helpful. It is a simple statement of some truth about ourselves, our families, and our lives; it helps us "tune in" to each other--or perhaps find our-selves "on the same page," discovering a commonality of experiences. When community members suffer from misunderstandings or hurts, they are encouraged to meet together. One-on-ones, especially in conflict situations, can help them work through interpersonal difficulties. Sometimes things do not work out as hoped; that can be helpful too. We can ask what this tells us about each other and ourselves: "What's going on in us right now?" Postnovitiate formation invites all of the community members to attend house chapters and community meet-ings-- our more formal community structures. These can effectively introduce newer members into our time-hon-ored ways of being together. Contemporary Augustinian formation encourages personal and communal sharing. This is done not because psychologists have invaded our mid

Issue 45.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1986. ; REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices ave located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REvIEw FOR REIolGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1986 by REVIEW FOR REt,IGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $ I 1.00 a year: $20.00 for two years. Other countries: add $4.00 per year (postage). Airmail (Book Rate) $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write i~vlr~w FOR I~LtG~OUS: EO. 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 Sept. / Oct., 1986 Volume 45 Number 5 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to I~v~Ew FOn REt,tG,OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW ~Oa REL~C~OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell . Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, M! 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Dominican Mission and Apostolic Common Life Mary A nn Fatula, O.P. Sister Mary Ann is the Chairperson of the Theology Department of Ohio Dominican College (1216 Sunbury Road; Columbus, OH 43219). Her last article, "Trusting in the Providence of God," appeared in the issue of January/February, 1986. In company with other religious orders, we Dominicans have placed a great amount of energy into reclaiming our mission of apostolic preaching in the Church. Yet even as we have become increasingly competent and profes-sional in our ministries, more than a few of us have sensed that something is radically missing from our reappropriation and that our mission requires far more of us than the total dedication of our energies to ministry. If we are honest, we must admit to a growing pain which we too easily push aside because we fear the cost of facing its implications. We find our ministries consuming us, sapping our energies and perhaps making very little real or lasting impact on others in spite of our hectic lives. At the same time, we see that the women and men drawn to Dominican life do not come to us for the sole sake of ministry. In many cases they already have been successful in a ministry and are looking for a committed community which will nourish their prayer and service in the Church. Yet we know in our hearts that precisely what these young people desire and have aright to expect from us we seem unable to offer them. In addition, our study of Dominic shows us that his vision entailed not simply a task to be accomplished but the far more comprehensive and demanding reality of a life to he lived. As we catch glimpses of these truths, we are beginning to suspect that our desire for "something more" in our life together expresses 641 642 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 the Spirit's own cry within us for the very life to which this same Spirit has called us: a life of preaching as the apostles did, out of a rich communion not only with the Lord but also with one another. The Relation Between Dominican Mission and Apostolic Common Life Many of us may not have reflected on the importance of community when we entered religious life, and yet we probably experienced its value, at some level at least, simply because we could not escape its structure. Today, however, we often have local settings in which hardly a semblance of com-munity life exists. On weekends no one is around; on weekdays it is difficult, if not impossible, to find one evening during a given month when even a small community is present in its totality at a supper meal. In many instances, not much binds us together except the TV set. We know by experience that simply promulgating laws does not make us choose something, no matter how valuable it is. We make free commit-ments because we have experienced the beauty of the reality held out to us, or because our hearts and minds reach out to claim a value when its beauty becomes apparent to us. Perhaps we do not experience the beauty of common life today--quite the opposite. But a deepened understanding of what common life can and must be for us could inspire us to consciously claim it anew. Far from providing "icing on the cake" to pep up our mission, so to speak, apostolic common life is literally a matter of life and death for us: if we do not reclaim it, we will perish. The interior communion and interdependence at the heart of Dominic's vision is something no structure or law can deliver to us; no outside force will hold us responsible for living it unless we ourselves do. Dominican apostolic common life, and thus the Dominican mission, will survive only if living men and women freely choose to devote their energy to living it. As M.H. Vicaire points out, Dominic renewed the apostolic life in its fullness precisely because he founded the outer element of missio upon the inne~ element of communio. The mission of itinerant preaching of God's word, the very ministry that founds the Church, was to flow from the rich interior life the Dominicans lived through prayer, the evangelical counsels, community and study. Far more than the task of merely verbal or written preaching, Dominic's mission entailed living the Word we preach with our mouths and pens, preaching in fact with our very lives. "I have come to cast fire on the earth" (Lk 12:49). We know the differ-ence between the preaching of mere words, and the kind which enlightens and sets fire to us: "Were not our hearts burning within us as he spoke to us on the way" (Lk 42:32). Dominican preaching is meant to be both light (or the mind and warmth for the heart because that preaching Dominican Mission / 643 comes from fire in the heart. This constitutes the Dominican mission in the Church, inseparably Word and Spirit, truth and love, light and fire--the fire of loving communion lived and put into words. The Spirit of communion anointed Jesus himself in the word he proclaimed (Lk 4:18); gathering a community around him, he preached not as an isolated individual but united to his Father and also to the twelve: "Let usgo to the next towns that we may preach there also, for this is why I came out" (Mk 1:39). When Jesus sends the apostles to preach, he sends them not one by one, but two by two (Mk 6:7). A witness at Dominic's canonization process in Bologna testified, "his words were so moving that most of the time he himself and his listeners were stirred to tears." We ourselves weep when something in a speaker's heart sets fire to our own hearts. Dominic wept when he preached because he spoke of what he loved and lived in his communion with the living God and with brothers and sisters. Jordan of Saxony writes of him that his "fre-quent and special prayer to God was for the gift of true charity." In a marve-lously creative synthesis Dominic combined the itinerant preaching of the apostles with the communio of the early Church. Preaching formed the purpose of the Dominicans' prayer, study, and community; but even more, the apostolic life they lived together, the reality of their love and communion with one another in the Lord, constituted the loudest and clearest word they preached. "Living Together," Community Life, and Common Life We have learned to distinguish between mission and ministry; our mission of preaching entails living the apostolic life in its fullness, preaching what we live, while our ministries express that mission in concrete and diverse ways. In a similar manner, we can distinguish between simply living together, community living and common life. Most of us perhaps know the first reality, "living under the same roof." Like ships in the night we greet each other but have no real connection to or interaction'with one another. Some of us may know, too, the deeper reality of community life, concrete sharing of goals, interests, work, prayer, responsibilities. But the words "common life" in fact translate the Latin word communio denoting an interior reality, a union of hearts and minds which only the Spirit can effect. Certainly this communion must be expressed in concrete forms, yet its reality is far more deep and inclusive than what "living together" or even "community life" denotes. We can share many things in community and still not share the deepest reality for which we are called together, the Lord whose love makes us one. The Hebrew and Christian Scriptures which, inspired Dominic's vision 644 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 portray preachers as people joined together to receive and to proclaim the Word expressing the very life they live in communion with others. Recalling how communities gathered around the Hebrew prophets, the author of John 17 places on the lips of Jesus the following prayer: May they "be one, as you, Father, in me, and I in you." May they all "be one in us, that the world may believe that you have sent me. I have made known to them your name and I will make it known, that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them." These words hint at the truth that no mere human effort can bring about communio. We have already tried human plans, projects, laws and programs, and we still find that we cannot achieve by our own efforts alone the kind of communion to which we are called as Dominicans. Only the Spirit gives life, and only the Spirit can offer us the power to live the kind of communion to which our vocation calls us, a human sacrament of the unspeakable com-munion at the heart of the triune God. When we ourselves love, we find that the closer we come to another, the more the union causes a bitter-sweet pain precisely because we cannot achieve the kind of oneness we desire. Because we cannot literally have one mind and heart with another; there remains always that final place in us which no one else can know or enter. But the Father, Son and Spirit live literally one life; in their communion no hint of division or separation exists. Our call to communio, to the common life, invites and urges us to be in some way a sacrament of this trinitarian communion. The Acts of the Apostles describes this reality among the early Christians: "The company of believers were of one heart and one soul in the Lord . . . they had all in common" (Ac 4:32). Here common life signifies not simply the sharing of material goods but ultimately the interior bond which makes them of one mind and heart in the Lord. Precisely because of this communion, the early disciples share everything in a "common life." This apostolic communio described in Acts 4:32 clearly inspired Dominic's own vision. The Rule of Augustine which he adopted for his Order opens with the proclamation that those gathered together have been called by the Lord precisely to live with one heart and mind in the Lord. And the primitive Constitution of his Order begins with this prologue: "Because a precept of our Rule commands us to have one heart and one mind in the Lord, it is fitting that., the uniformity maintained in our external conduct may foster and indicate the unity which should be present interiorly in our hearts. "" The earliest constitution of Dominic's Order thus identifies preaching not as a mere speaking of words, but as the expression of unity in the Lord which even in their diversity binds the members together in the apostolic common life. Dominican Mission / 645 The Basic Constitution adopted at River Forest in 1968 emphasizes this theme anew. The first three paragraphs speak of the mission of proclaiming God's Word, but the fourth paragraph makes clear the very heart of this mission: "Because we share the mission of the apostles, we follow their way of life as Dominic conceived it. With one soul we live in community." This distinction between the interior communion and the concrete expression of it in community life has important implications. Those who for serious reasons are unable to live in Dominican community may yet be truly living in the communion that binds us together with one heart and soul in God. Communio does have to be lived out in concrete ways, and community life is one of them, but Dominican communio is lived out also through study, prayer and ministry that flow from our interior union with our brothers and sisters in Dominic's family. We are called to foster one heart and soul in the Lord--a mystery far more deep and demanding than simply living under one roof. The Holy Spirit at the Heart of Dominican Apostolic Communion We address Dominic as "Preacher of grace" precisely because his procla- ¯ marion came not only from grace, from the Spirit's fire, but also spoke about grace, the supremacy of God's mercy and power in our lives. The Dominican mission calls us to preach from the fullness of our own experience of this mercy, our own realization that finally God's work and not our own will save us. In our attempts to renew and to live this communion among us, we are thus brought to our knees; the word of grace we are called to preach to others becomes only a "noisy gong and clanging cymbal" (1 Cot 13:1) unless it is also the word of grace we ourselves live together. In writing of love, Aquinas stresses how the activities of knowing and loving expand and enlarge us by uniting us to reality beyond ourselves. The process of becoming mature adults entails the ability to extend ourselves outside of our own limited being to others around us. Knowledge takes reality into us, so to speak, but in also lov!ng what we know we reach out in an "ecstatic" movement outward toward what we love (ST I, 16, 1). In love, we put others in place of ourselves and regard their good truly as if it were our own. The ecstatic nature of love's union in this way truly enlarges our being, increasingly actualizing us as human persons. Thomas distinguishes, however, between self-gratifying love and the love of friend-ship. In self-gratifying love, although we seem to be drawn out of ourselves to good outside us, the movement of love remains within us and focused on ourselves; we desire the good of others not for their sake but for our own (ST I, 28, 3). The love of friendship, in contrast, loves others as equals and directs 646 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 our affection outside of us to their reality precisely as other. True union thus happens only when we reach out of ourselves in an unselfish move-ment of love toward others' own uniqueness. Yet as experience itself teaches us, our own efforts alone cannot effect this kind of love. Precisely for this reason, "the love of God has been poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us" (Rm 5:5). Most of our communities have engaged in some program of helping us to appreciate and to tap our own resources, especially the gift of one another. But the gift we have left most untapped is the very person of the Spirit. Aquinas notes that the Spirit's name as Gift denotes gratuitous, unreturnable bestowal, with no expectation of return. And because a gift is presented to us only so that it may belong to us, the Spirit given to us is truly ours, our possession, our gift, our Spirit (ST I, 38, 1). Dominican women especially are called upon to renew this awareness of and reliance upon the Spirit's power in our life and ministry together. If we would claim our affinity for the Spirit's tender mercy and strength within and among us, we could become ourselves a new gift in and for the Dominican family, a living gift of women who live and speak the anointed word. For the word we have preached as Dominicans too often has not conveyed or come from the Spirit's anointing. This seems to me a special contribution which Dominican women can make to the Order today: to live and to proclaim the word of truth warmed with the fire. of life. Aquinas stresses that the Word cannot be divorced from the Holy Spirit: because the Son eternally breathes forth the very love between him and the Father, the living person of the Spirit, the Word is always Verbum spirans amorem-- the Word breathing forth love (ST I, 43, 5, ad 2). Only when we internalize this truth will we live out our call to be preachers not simply of the Word but of the anointed Word. Our mission to preach the Word by its very nature thus demands our increasing submission to the Spirit of God in whom we are to find the motiva-tion and power for our life together. "Ask, and it will be given you . . . if you who are evil know how.to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Fath.er give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him" (Lk 11:9, 13). We need to call down upon our life together the Spirit who alone can effect the interior communio at the heart of our preach-ing mission. As Aquinas stresses, the charity at the heart of our union is a created participation in the very person of the Spirit (ST II-II, 24, 2). This is a profound and radical insight, it seems to me: the bond of love we share is in some sense nothing less than the very reality of the Spirit, the divine person of love. As a participation in this Spirit, charity heals and enlivens our capacity to love one another truly as other. Again as Aquinas Dominican Mission / ~147 comments, charity of all the virtues has the strongest inclination to its act, for it reaches out to live in a spontaneous movement of pleasure and delight (ST II-II, 24, 5, ad 3; II-II, 23, 2). Since the Spirit's own person dwells in us by charity, making his power of love in some sense our very own, charity is specifically the same act whereby we love God and also one another. The movement of selfless love that binds us to each other thus of its very nature binds us also to God (ST II, 25, 1). The interior communion at the heart of our preaching mission calls us to reach out to one another's joys and sorrows, but we know how difficult it is to do this. We may be physically in the same room, apparently speaking and listening to one another, and yet we know in our hearts how often we are not present to one another's concerns. This kind of communion can happen only when the Spirit opens us to one another. As William Hill points out, the Spirit--and not just some effect of the Spirit's activity--is the very bond in some way uniting us in apostolic communion.' Perhaps we have had tastes of this communion at a time when we were bound together in a community sorrow or joy or at a time of deep prayer and celebration. We may have experienced this interior bond when the group was lost in silence and we had an intimation that our common life is not simply words we say or tasks we do for another. As Hill notes, when the Spirit "lays fast hold of us, we begin to live from a personal center that is our own self.''2 This last insight suggests that Dominican apostolic common life is possible only at the price of a profound continuing conversion on the part of each of us. W~ are called to live not from a center of narrow interest and self-concern, but from the abundant love of the Spirit who enlarges our hearts by making room in them for the truth of one another, In the depths of our being, the Spirit "lures us to the self-transcendence" of interdependence in the midst of our diversity: "The proper domain of the Spirit is not life in isolation, but in communion.''3 Neither Jesus nor Dominic sent our people one by one to convert the world, to be individual leavens in many places. This is a valid call, but it is not ours as Dominicans. If we are to live our charism in the Church, our preach-ing must express the fire of love that we live first of all in communion with one another. Individual men and women may have 1o minister alone in special cases, but their ministry also is called to give voice to the communion at the heart of the Dominican mission. If we are truly to live what we preach and preach what we live, the word we proclaim as Dominicans must express the apostolic communion we live with one another. The apostles' own preaching had such power because it overflowed with the Spirit's love lived in communion with one another, Because the Spirit inflames and anoints our preaching only to the extent that this same Spirit 648 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 binds us in love in one another, we will rediscover what it means to be fire in the Church, as Dominic was, only when we rediscover the absolute central-ity of apostolic communion. In many instances we still do not preach and minister out of the abundant communio we live with one another. And to the extent that we do not, we are insipid in the Church, a "noisy gong" and a "clanging cymbal" (1 Cor 13:1). Each of us is called to beg the Spirit's grace in our individual life and in our life together that our preaching would in fact give voice to the communioh we live with one another. Renewing Common Life Through Renewing the Four Elements of Dominican Life Because the Spirit's grace entails the mystery of both God's activity in us and also our free human cooperation, perhaps our most significant task in deepening our communion is to give renewed attention to each of the four elements which comprise Dominican apostolic life. And for both Dominican women and men, it may well be not simply a question of reclaim-ing but also of claiming these elements as our own in a way we have never done before. With regard to the first of the elements, prayer, we realize that our preach-ing is meant to flow from the abundance of our contemplation: "'contemplata aliis tradere. "" Yet too often we find ourselves saying, "My work is my prayer; the demands of my ministry prevent me from devoting explicit time to prayer." But as Vincent de Couesnongle, former master general of the Order, commented in an address at Providence in 1982, "People quickly distinguish the preachers who speak of the Friend with whom they constantly live, from the preachers who speak of him as of a stranger and try to pass him off as a companion with whom they are on familiar terms. The first know how to speak about God, because they are in the habit of speaking to God." People are thirsting to find in us women and men of God, and they recognize our pretense when we do not pray. And because this is so, what we most owe others in our ministry is precisely what we do with our time when we are not with them. Experience itself teaches us the paradox of grace: that God accomplishes wonderful things through us when we do not devote one hundred percent of our time to ministry, when we devote ourselves also to adoration before the living God in prayer. Many of us are perfectionists who think that our time must be consumed by projects to make our ministry more effective. Without belittling these efforts, more than a few of us are discovering that redirecting some of our " energy from compulsive busy-ness to time in prayer and fostering contempla-tive peace in our lives effect far more profound results than our efforts alone could have accomplished. What we do with our time when our people do Dominican Mission / 649 not see us often bears the deepest gifts for them when they do see us. We owe the people to and with whom we minister a consecration of our time to prayer so that they will find in us living evidence that God's presence and mercy fill the world. With regard to the second element of Dominican life, we are beginning to suspect the radical nature of our call to study. Dominic identifies as the crucial element at the heart of his Order the sacred study which opens us to contemplation and preaching. And is this not what we most lack in our lives today? Again, in his 1982 Providence address, de Couesnongle stresses, "It is a systematic, deepened and persevering study that we need to under-take . If this is not the case, then spiritual suffocation awaits us. The experience of each one of us shows this sufficiently." De Couesnongle com-ments that he stopped congratulating members of the Order for working so hard precisely because "people are overworked., they believe that one has to work like this. And thus, an unbalanced life results" whose equilibrium can be regained only by "stressing more a basic study that is at once serious and prayerful." Without prayer and study, we do no real preaching. We women especially must claim as never before our call to profound study; if we think we have no time for this because of our ministry's demands, we fool ourselves. No one will force us to study; this is a priority choice we ourselves must make. We come now to the third element that fosters communio, our com-munity life. In 1980, de Couesnongle noted in his report to the General Chapter meeting at Walberberg that he too easily believed the common life could be renewed simply by insisting on meetings and rules, as if these would automatically bring results. He came to see that true community life flourishes only to the extent that each person freely chooses to commit herself or himself to a real interest in the community members and to sharing what makes up his or her own life. "The newspaper and TV . . . will simply not suffice to excite and nourish an authentic community life. How many of us know how to share with outsiders what is best about ourselves, but become soeechless with our sisters and brothers?" We need to become, as never before, women~and men of the Word shared with one another, choosing to live what Dominic asked of us by speaking to and about God with one another. Is this not what we so little do? Because very few structures foster our communio, community life will cease to exist unless we freely choose it. We easily blame those in authority for the erosion of our life together when in fact we ourselves are responsible for its life or death. If our communities die, each one of us is responsible. We must begin to speak the Word to one another, to pray together, to speak to one another of deeper matters than simply the weather. 650 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 Because mission is our purpose, our community life and sharing of the Word with one another cannot be a matter of adding more time requirements to our already busy day; our commitment to one another must be in terms of quality rather than quantity time. Even if we are fortunate enough to experience a measure of community life, it is often not communio, our shared faith in the living God, that binds us together. But by taking advantage of the opportunities we already have for quality time together, we can take the risk of improving the level of conversation at table and of sharing the Word at our prayer and house meetings. And instead of harboring anger and resentment, we can begin to speak the truth in love to one another, for even honest fights do far more to foster communio than polite silence. Candidates to our communities who may have tremendous gifts for preaching and prayer and yet do not value the commitment to communio show by this very fact that whatever call they do have, it is not to Dominican life. And we who have already consecrated ourselves to this life must con-sciously choose today what perhaps we have never really chosen before, a true commitment to the community life that fosters the communio at the heart of our Dominican mission. De Couesnongle noted in his 1982 Provi-dence talk that as we have abandoned structures, individualism and non-par-ticipation have grown, and these are the "enemy number-one of community life." "Community life demands interpersonal relationships. Are we not too easily secretive. Do we not spontaneously hide what we are?. We bottle ourselves up and dodge compromising questions." He also notes the radical nature of our present call to community, precisely because so much today militates against a true union among us. We have become as secula-rized as the world, as filled, perhaps, with a selfish individualism that makes it increasingly difficult for us to reach out of ourselves to one another. Just as we ourselves must ratify our own baptismal vows, we Domini-cans are called to make a personal choice to live in fact what we say we are living. We can no longer escape facing ourselves with the question: "Why am I here? If I want to preach as a Dominican, my preaching must come from a true communio I myself concretely live." Unless each of us squarely faces this question and lives out its implications, we will surely die as com-munities, because we will fail to live our charism in the Church. Since the Dominican tradition has always treasured the richness of plural-ity, there are and will be diverse ways of living our call to communio. Our being bound together with one heart and mind in the Lord will express itself in different ways according to the character of each local community. And if for some serious reason a Dominican must live alone, he or she can still live out the Dominican call to communio-missio by fostering in whatever ways possible a true communion, a oneness of mind and heart with the Dominican Mission / 651 brothers and sisters. As our congregations decrease in numbers, we will be forced to cooperate with one another in the kind of collaboration that the Dominican family asks of us. Increasingly we are called to minister together, to provide options for living in communities of other Dominican congrega-tions in order to preach and minister from a communio concretely lived. And we need to actively work toward these new kinds of configurations. We consider finally the relation between communio and ministry. We Dominican women especially are growing to realize that our mission is not simply ed.ucation but Dominic's mission, the preaching of God's Word through our varied ministries. Each of us needs to take personal responsi-bility for the extent to which her ministry concretely expresses this mission and to ask ourselves how we can best focus our varied gifts in the service of proclaiming the Word. Perhaps more than a few of us are called to re-examine whether the ministry to which we are devoting our energies is the one to which God is calling us now, the ministry which best utilizes our gifts for the mission of proclaiming the Word. We need also to ask ourselves whether we have allowed our ministries to consume and master us, rather than to free us in joyful service. When we fail to live the Dominican call in all of its elements, when we cheat other dimensions of our life to devote all of our energy to ministry, we find our-selves in an inevitable burnout, ministering not out of the abundance of our communion with God and with one another, but out of our own emptiness. Not every possible ministry is meant for us as Dominicans. If we are not ministering from the fullness of a contemplative peace and in a way that fosters this peace in others, we need to face the hard question of why this is so. If all that we bring to the world as Dominicans is more busy-ness, more hectic activity, we have nothing to contribute. What others need from us is not more unpeacefulness but the witness of men and women who minister from the depths of contemplative peace. This is one of the chief ways we are called as Domincans to be counte~:-cultural. When our ministry no longer fosters this peace within and around us, when it drains us end-lessly and yields nothing but unpeace, we need to take a second look at whether God is not calling us to another ministry more at the heart of our mission to proclaim the Word. De Couesnongle points out in his 1982 Providence address: "Work is not prayer., in saying we lack time we find an easy excuse. Do we have the right to present ourselves as religious whose word proceeds from the abundance of contemplation? Time is needed, if we are to pray. Let us find this time and give it to God . . . This is my dream for the Order: contemplation and preaching., preaching ex abundantia contempla- 652 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 tionis. "' This is also Dominic's dream for us. But a dream becomes reality only when we ask it as a gift from God and then with all of our hearts make a conscious choice to commit ourselves to its realization., together. In his 1970 commentary on the Fundamental Constitution, Vicaire stresses that our one profession, our one vow, integrates us "'into the communion, and it is the communion which has the mission. "" Our vow consecrates us not only to God but also to one another, for it consecrates us to be a "reli-gious community of life vowed to preaching." Our Dominican life itself "is an apostolic mission in the Church" that springs from the communion we live with one another. Vicaire continues: we are not "just a team engaged in a common task." We are "a community of life, centered essentially in faith's response to the Gospel and in the seeking for God together." Our call to the common life is the heart of our specific mission in the Church, for our preaching as Dominicans is meant to flow from our communion with God and with one another, the communion that makes us in truth of one heart and mind in the Lord. "This requires that we be a true community. We are in it for better or for worse, as in the conjugal community, until death." We need to take seriously this "conjugal" relationship not only with the Lord but also with one another, for as married people can and do tell us, real communion happens only at the cost of personal time and energy and commitment. Our Dominican mission will again bring fire to the Church and world only to the extent that it springs from and expresses the communio we live with one another. As ! write these words, 1 am conscious of how little I live them. But I also know that to run from the truth is to sell our very soul. May the words de Couesnongle spoke in Providence in 1982 about the common life as the indispensable well-spring of our preaching mission in the Church continue to knock at the door of our minds and hearts: "Each of us must feel herself or himself responsible for this. We have to pay out of our own person . Alone and in community, let us have the courage to confront this problem and then, 'Do what he tells you.' " NOTES ~William J. Hill, O.P., The Three-Personed God (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 1982), p. 303. 21bid, p. 288. 3lbid, p. 307. Active and Monastic: Two Apostolic Lifestyles George A. Aschenbrenner, S.J. Father Aschenbrenner is well known to our readers especially for the series of yearly surveys in spirituality he authored from 1980 through 1985. For the past year he has been Director of the Spiritual Formation Program at the North American College in Rome, where he may be addressed (00120 Vatican City State). This article originally appeared in the USIG Bulletin (Rome: no. 70, 1986), and is reprinted with permission. The spirited beauty and gracefulness of Jesus Christ has inspired the minds and hearts of women and men for centuries. They have been stirred, at times, to feats of missionary heroism all over the world. At other times, they have found encouragement for quiet, hidden faithfulness to the daily duties of a very ordinary state in life. In all these different types of heroism the moti-vation is the same: an enthusiastic love of Jesus Christ. In some way, then, Christian spirituality is always one and the same. Its beginning and end, its motive and energy always focus on that one whose words still echo in hearts today: "I am the Way, the Truth and the Life" (Jn 14:6). But over the many years, this one, central essence of Christian spirituality has taken expression in many different forms, some of which, at times, have seemed almost irreconcilable. Whenever these different forms are misunderstood and their common rooting in one basic Christian spirituality is forgotten, then they can become competitive or even truly at loggerheads. The interrelationships of each form with the one fundamental Christian spirituality, and of the various forms among themselves, have not always been easy and clear. But as long as we are careful to maintain a lively familiar-ity with and a genuine belief in Jesus Christ as the root and foundation of 653 654 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 Christian spirituality, we can speak of numerous Christian spiritualities. The following quotations are good examples of two very different dynamics within the one basic Christian spirituality: The Carthusian life rests upon a deep foundation of silence which you know and love, and it is in that depth that the Eternal Word is born for each one of us. There lies our whole vocation: to listen to Him who generates the Word and to live thereby. The Word proceeds from Silence, and we strive to find Him in His Source. This is because the Silence here in question is not a void nor a negation but, on the contrary, Being at its fullest and most fruitful plenitude. That is why it generates; and that is why we keep silent.~ Take down your lantern from its niche and go out! You may not rest in firelight certainties, Secure from drifting fog of doubt and fear. You may not build yourself confining walls And say: 'thus far, and thus, and thus far shall I walk, And these things shall I do, and nothing more.' Go out! For need calls loudly in the winding lanes And you must seek Christ there. Your pilgrim heart Shall urge you still one pace beyond. And love shall be your lantern flame.2 Though the dynamic of expression is different in these two instances, the core of the matter is the same: a heart afire with God's love in Jesus. But there will often be a very significant difference in the details of the daily living out of these two dynamics. And though the difference is never so profound asto destroy a common essence and a genuine bond, yet it is significant enough to prevent an easy identification of these two forms. My concern in this article is to describe and distinguish further these two different charisms or spiritualities, without endangering their basic rootedness in the tradition of Christian spirituality. Often in the past the Christian tra-dition has distinguished between monastic and apostolic spiritualities. I would like to suggest a further refinement of that distinction--a nuance that seems to me to be important and clarifying in these present times of struggle to understand the essence and expression of apostolic spirituality in religious life and throughout the Church. After some comments on the essence of all Christian spirituality as being apostolic, I will describe at some length what I will call two different apostolic lifestyles, charisms or spiritualities: the monastic and the active. Among the ancient world religions Christianity is unique in its strong Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 655 incarnational quality. In the Christian religion, at its center, is the claim that the Son of God became a full human being. Neither a deceptive illusion, nor a passing hallucinatory appearance, Jesus of Nazareth intimately, pre-cisely, awesomely gives flesh in our midst to the God who lives, beyond beginning or end, in unapproachable light and holiness. In Jesus, there can be no doubt that God is turned toward us forever in loving forgiveness and is ineluctably involved with and committed to our world evolving in time. In fact God is the decisive source and gentle sustainer of all being and crea-tion. And so we find in Jesus someone who enters our world confidently and profoundly, someone who lives and loves tenderly, courageously, thoroughly, and yet whose center of identity is never fully of this world. His God, addressed so intimately as Abba, "my dear Father," focuses his heart far beyond all of this world. On Calvary an apparently absurd and horrendous death can be desired, even chosen, precisely because his identity, though fully lived within this world, is not finally rooted here. And this identity is then fully revealed by God in the blessing of resurrection. The God of Christian religion always far transcends in being, beauty and life anything of this world. And so the Christian God is never fully identified with or by anything of the here and now, but, in Jesus, stands forever committed in loving forgiveness to all of us and to our created uni-verse. Fired by the same Spirit of God, all disciples of Jesus must learn to find an identity resonating in God far beyond this world while they live and love with a profound joy and hope that implicates them seriously within this world--but never so as to confine their identity to what they can see, taste and know here and now. And this balanced integration of the seriously incar-national with the transcendently eschatological has never been easy for any disciple of Jesus. There must never be any doubt of Christianity's healthy, creative and serious concern for this world. In the sense of a serious commitment to and involvement with our world, every disciple of Jesus must be intensely apostolic. Not to be apostolic, in this sense, is simply to betray Christian discipleship. For this reason, any facile distinction between apostolic spiritu-alities and monastic spiritualities may confuse, and may even deny the healthy, creative and serious concern--the apostolic concern--with this world that must be part of monastic spirituality. Nevertheless, as the central point of this article will make clear, there are two different ways of living out Christianity's serious, loving concern for this beautiful, anguished world. A central assertion of this article is that the essential apostolic orientation of Christian spirituality can be expressed in either a monastic or an active lifestyle. And these two quite different apostolic lifestyles are the result of God's Spirit at work in the hearts of men and women. This distinction, then, 656 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 is not something simply of human invention. Over centuries, as believers have struggled to be faithful to the Spirit of God inspiring their hearts, apostolic concern for our world expressed itself in a variety of ways. The evidence for our distinction here has resulted from God's love stirring human hearts down the ages. This distinction between the two dynamics of a monastic and an active relationship with the world cuts across the whole Church. It can name the experience of lay men and women as much as it can describe different types of religious congregations. And the Church has not always found it easy to acknowledge and respect these different apostolic charisms among women and men. Today, however, as a result of Vatican II, we are in a better position to recognize and cooperate with the different ways that grace stirs human hearts to express themselves and to be present.to God. To confuse or blur these two distinctive apostolic dynamics runs the danger of not respecting God's call in human hearts and of not cooperating properly in the formation of an appropriate apostolic Christian presence. The monastic and the active styles of Christian apostolate are not meant as hard and fast divisions. Rather, they express tendencies, movements of grace in our hearts. For many people and for many religious congregations, the challenge is to achieve the proper blend of these tendencies. We are speak-ing here, then, of a whole spectrum of development, from the highly monastic with little mixture of the active, right through to the highly active with a similarly small mixture of the monastic. It is like a long clothesline, and every individual and every group in the Church may be imagined as a clothespin that God attaches to some part of the line. As we consider these two different apostolic dynamics and tendencies of grace in the human heart, the issue centers on nothing less than identity-- either the identity of an individual or the corporate identity of a religious congregation. To avoid spiritual schizophrenia and identity confusion, no pins ought to be on the clothesline in the exact center. People who try to focus identity on this central point of the spectrum attempt the impossible balance of a life in apostolic faith of exactly equal monastic and active proportions. Religious congregations that referred in the past to themselves as semi-cloistered have been invited after Vatican II more carefully and decisively to interpret their identity with clear priority for either the monastic or the active style. The semi-cloistered balancing of exactly equal monastic and active dimensions is not possible. And such identity confusion, besides the damage done an individual or a religious congregation, also wreaks havoc in the ministry which, as the product of such identity confusion, must also be con-fused and weakly focused. Before moving now to a description of each of these two apostolic dynamics and lifestyles, two further comments are in order. First, no priority Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 657 of one style over the other is intended. The claim is that the monastic and the active are different and distinctive. There is no claim that they are superior, one to the other, in any way. Second, in describing each dynamic I will center on groups or on individuals who legitimately embody each tendency in a fullness and a clarity--with little qualification and nuance. When seen in such simple clarity and fullness, the dynamic in question can be better appreciated. But it should be understood that for many individuals and reli-gious congregations, the precise challenge is for them to qualify and nuance both dynamics so as to achieve an appropriate and identifying blend of each one.3 The Monastic Apostolic Dynamic I will describe six aspects of the monastic charism. These aspects are not disparate realities that stand on their own; rather they coalesce into a whole sensibility and way of life. As integrated and unified, they make up the monastic experience of God and the monastic vision of reality. These aspects are rooted in a distinctive dynamic at work in human hearts and comprise what, in the Church's long history, is usually called monastic spirituality. 1. Formal prayer is the primary determining influence. In the monastic apostolic lifestyle, the formal prayer of the Liturgy of the Hours and the Eucharist, and any other private contemplation resulting from the liturgy, has a clear and decisive primacy in the development of the Whole way of life. These times of formal prayer are the first items placed in the daily schedule. They literally determine the schedule and the contour of the life. As regularly spread throughout the day, this experience of formal prayer clearly determines, not only the schedule, but the very structure of monastic spiritu-ality. The heart of the monastic person is primarily and thoroughly rapt in the contemplation of God. And simply everything reveals this primacy. 2. Order, routine, regularity and schedule are central. Because of the clear priority of the Liturgy of the Hours and the Eucharist, the monastic life reveals and requires a regularity of order and schedule. Often, only Sundays"and special feasts will vary the fundamental routine of monastic life. An active prejudicefor variety as the spice of life should not lure monastic people away from a profound regularity of life in which the monastic heart is purified and disciplined for docility to the spon-taneity of God's Spirit. The disorder of any inappropriate irregularity is serious enough to trivialize the monastic experience of God. 658 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 3. Being set apart from the world in order to be part of the world. The monastic dynamic always requires an appropriate withdrawal from the world. This being set apart from the world can never become an end in itself, nor an uncaring protection from the world. Should such a lack of concern develop, the monastic life would have lost that apostolic commitment to this world which is essential to all Christian discipleship. But for the monastic heart, it is precisely through being set apart from the world that a care and concern for the world grows and is appropriately expressed. This monastic withdrawal from the world can serve as a reminder for all disciples of Jesus. "If you belonged to the world, the world would love its own; but the reason that the world hates you is that you do not belong to the world for I chose you out of the world" (Jn 15:19). These words of Jesus profess a type of separation from the world without which serious Christian discipleship can never be possible. The monastic separation from the world-- never meant to be a frightened disinterest, but rather a sharing in God's passionate care for this world--serves as a reminder of Jesus' words for every Christian disciple. This monastic separation from the world is expressed in many different ways. Some monasteries are situated literally out in the middle of nowhere. Others are situated in the midst of an inner city, still crumbling or now being redeveloped. Sometimes the monastic person is set apart from the world in a small, simple apartment-hermitage. Especially in experimentation after Vatican II, monastic women and men have rediscovered that the cloister of the heart contemplatively fascinated in God is the central issue, much more than any grilles and cloistered spaces. And yet, unless there is an appropriate external separation from the world, the monastic heart will be distracted and become trivialized in its simple contemplative focus on God. 4. Stability, solitude and peace figure prominently in the monastic life. From the outset, in discussing the importance of each of these three qual-ities in the monastic life, key distinction must be made between the quality considered as a profound inner reality of heart and as an external expression of that same interior reality. When stability is viewed as a profound, inner quality of heart, it typifies and would be expected of any mature believer-- and not just of the monastic person. Interior stability, as dependability and responsibility before God, always entails the refined sensitivity which dis-tinguishes God's word of true love from the many other seductive words of apparent and fallacious love heard at times within the human heart. This inner stability and refined insight comprise the core of faith maturity and, therefore, would be at the very heart of both monastic and active apostolic lifestyles. Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 659 But there is an appropriate external expression of this inner stability of heart that typifies the monastic lifestyle and not the active. Vowed stability in a monastic congregation, though surely a profound reality of heart in all the members, also unites them in this specific place with a communal bond that facilitates their ongoing search together into God. This kind of external stability, while stimulating profound communal experience of God in the monastic life, obviously interferes with the mobility of the active life. To appreciate the necessary role of solitude in the monastic life, the same distinction must be applied. A regular experience of solitude alone with and in God is another sign of every mature believer, whether called to the monas-tic or the active life. Without such experience of God in solitude, we remain superficial and immature, in our experience of life, ourselves and God. One of the dangers that could weaken the Church's ministry today, especially in the active form, is the situation in which active apostles become too busy for regular prayer in solitude--with the result that their faith becomes immature, superficial and indecisive. But for the monastic heart there must be an appropriate external expression and atmosphere of quiet solitude if one is to maintain a live witness within the Church of an inner solitude with God, a nourishment for which all our hearts year9 and are made. In a similar fashion, peace, as a deep inner quality of heart, is Jesus' gift to every serious disciple. Beyond this mature, inner experience of Jesus' peace, the monastic apostolic lifestyle also provides an external expression and atmosphere of peace, without the disruption and distraction of the active lifestyle. This distinction between inner quaiity of heart and external expression is very helpful in describing both the overlapping and the distinctiveness of these two apostolic lifestyles. I will make use of it later in describing the active style of being apostolic. 5. The apostolate of formal prayer is most typical of monastic spirituafity. The formal prayer of the Liturgy of the Hours and the Eucharist and of individual contemplation is the chief and primary apostolate or ministry of the monastic heart. No other secondary ministry should be practiced except insofar as it relates to and does not interfere with the monastic life of con-templation alone with God. To blur or confuse this ministerial primacy of formal prayer could, once again, trivialize the monastic experience of God. The monastic heart always senses a salvific radiation emanating from its contemplative adventure alone in God. 6. Importance of physical presence in the formation of monastic community. Christian community is usually easier to define than to live. Wherever 660 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 it occurs, it is a union of minds and hearts primarily focused by a shared faith vision. Though many other elements, like similar age, training and interests, may facilitate union of minds and hearts, nothing is more important than a genuinely corporate faith vision regularly experienced and appropri-ately expressed. In the monastic style of Christian community, physical pres-ence, often in silence, plays a very important role in developing and maintaining the unity deriving from a corporate faith vision. A physical togetherness in prayer, reading, eating, sleeping and recreating are further aspects of the monastic dynamic at work in human hearts--and they are not unimportant ones in the living of monastic community. The Active Apostolic Dynamic Contrasted with the monastic, the active apostolic lifestyle is rooted in a different dynamic in the heart, and it also takes a different expression. This difference becomes obvious in the first of the six aspects that I will now describe. 1. Ministry is the primary determining influence. Vatican II, when describing this active dynamic in terms of religious life, speaks of communities in which "the very nature of the religious life requires apostolic action and services.''4 When this active charism is given either to a whole community or to an individual believer, it is ministerial involvement, rather than formal prayer, that determines the contours and the schedule of daily life. This is an important but very subtle point, which requires further eluci-dation, lest it be seriously misunderstood. To give primacy of influence to ministry is not meant to deny the absolute importance of quiet contemplation for the active apostle. Henri Nouwen states clearly the importance of formal prayer for ministry when he says: "If the minister wants to minister 'In the Name' he must live in the Name and speak and act from there.''5 Without mature prayer, mature ministry just is not possible. To deepen their regular contemplative experience is a great challenge today for active apostles, so busy and fatigued with responding to our modern world's needs. Let me be firm and clear in asserting this radical importance of formal prayer for the busy minister. The point to be stressed here, while not denying the importance of regular prayer, concerns the influence that ministry has on the whole makeup of the active life. The legitimate demands of ministry form the schedule of the day. When people enter a new ministry, with the intention of maintaining a past set time for private prayer which now will clearly interfere with availability for the new ministry, this violates the dynamic of the active apostolic charism. Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 661 To have a schedule of formal prayer already in place before entering into the new ministerial situation is backwards for active apostles. Rather, they must first insert themselves into the new ministry and get an honest sense of its reasonable demands. Only then can their conviction about regular contemplation determine the specifics of when, where and how long they should pray each day. That there be regular contemplation is beyond doubt, regardless of ministry. But the determination of the specifics of regular contemplation depends upon the demands of the new ministry. For the active apostle, ministry, then, while not a substitute for regular contemplation, is the primary determining influence in this whole way of life. 2. Flexibility for change is central. Because busy ministry and service of others is essential to active spiritu-ality, a regular routine scheduled around formal prayer is not possible. A flexibility of heart and spirit is called for, in order to respond to the challenges and needs of a world so often in great upheaval and unrest. The earlier distinction between a profound reality of the heart and its external expression is important here again. Flexibility of heart is not some-thing that only active apostles know. A profound inner flexibility of spirit makes possible genuine docility to the spontaneity of the Holy Spirit--and is always a sign of spiritual maturity, both for monastic and for active people. Responsible involvement in complicated and unsettled situations, something not usual in monastic life, calls forth in the active apostle a distinctive external expression and practice of this mature flexibility of heart. The struggle and anguish involved in much of our response to Vatican II reveals how hard it is to change a routine and how prone many of us are to find our security in a rather rigid routine rather than in a faithfully loving God. As indicated above I believe that a routine is not only healthy, but necessary for living out the monastic charism. But, while a certain routine is necessary for all human life, the active apostle must always resist the escape into an overly monastic routine and must learn to trust the gift of flexibility that is always part of the active apostolic dynamic in the Church. 3. Ability discerningly to find, be with and serve God in all activity. Someone in a busy, active life can become very scattered and distracted. One's attention almost constantly flits from one thing to another. One's energy and concern are poured out in one situation after another. Drained and running, one loses a sense of focus, of unity and maybe even of funda-mental meaning. As life gets more and more hectic and chaotic, burnout of body and spirit sets in. Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 Moments of special religious experience in formal prayer cannot, all by themselves, stem the tide of this heightening discouragement and tension. More than regular formal prayer is needed. Despite a great desire for unity and integration, human consciousness is capable, often without being aware of it, of various compartmentalizations. One of these is the split between formal prayer and the activity of life. In such a split, the surge of religious experience in private prayer ebbs in the face of all the busy activity of the rest of the day. The frantic, frenetic business of the day often calls forth and reveals in the apostle little sense of God. Private prayer is stubbornly main-tained in an attempt to keep religious experience alive. But such an ebb and flow of religious experience actually saps the apostle's energy and finally fails in accomplishing the desired integration in which all the activity of a day contributes to, rather than interferes with, a person's unifying religious experience. The proper balance of regular prayer and discerning involvement in the business of everyday can simplify and purify the focus and commitment of a heart so that the compartmentalized split of human experience into sacred and secular is gradually healed in a unity whereby all human experience bbc0mes religious--and finds God. In my own opinion, this is the greatest challenge still facing active apostolic spirituality. Often, past religious for-mation produced a compartmentalized relationship between prayer and activ-ity. Religious formation, in many ways, is still struggling to help active apostles find the proper interior integration that facilitates, and actually makes possible, the religious experience of finding, being with and serving God in all activity. Active apostles need a reflective sensitivity, in order to recognize the subtle but real difference between a selfish manipulation of others that finds self and a generously humble service of others that finds God. Only a genuine experience of the intimacy of God's love as beyond all other love and inviting a radical abandonment of self in love to God, together with a rigorously careful discernment of inner affective experiences, can make possible a human, loving presence that finds God in all activity and dealings with others. Vatican 11 makes a similar claim when it says that, for com-munities in religious life whose very nature requires apostolic action and services, "their entire apostolic activity should be animated by a religious spirit.''~ 4. Mobility and apostolic availability are key in active spirituality. Because mission and active ministry are so central to the active apostolic dynamic, mobility of body and spirit are important. Any rigidity in a person can interfere with the fruitfulness of this charism. In an active religious corn- Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 663 munity, the members come together precisely in order to be sent out on specific ministries, each of which shares in God's mission of salvation in Jesus. Any stubborn selfishness or immature insecurity will always corrode that mobility for mission which should characterize active spirituality. Apostolic availability is a readiness of spirit born of a freedom radically fascinated with a loving God's faithful commitment to us. Because of the inevitable limitation of human weakness and sinfulness, this freedom never perdures perfectly in a human heart. It must be won and received again and again. But the more this precious freedom grows in a human heart or in a whole congregation the more an availability of spirit allows the person or congregation to be thoroughly committed to a present ministry, but always with a readiness for wherever God's love may lead in the future. 5. The prayer of the apostolate is most typical of active spirituafity. The phrase that typifies monastic spirituality is reversed here. Granting, once again, the absolute value of regular contemplation in any serious spiritual life, the typical and more important prayer of the active apostle is a distinctively prayerful presence in and through all activity. This is related to. the third element above, i.e. the need to find, be with and serve God in all activity. The prayer of the apostolate should not be misunderstood as that claim and practice that many of us struggled with through the 1960s and 1970s: "my work is my prayer." Most of us now know the heresy.of such a claim, even though active apostles who would not want to profess an identification of work and prayer can still easily be pressured into living such a heresy. We have learned again over recent years that for no one does work become prayer, unless that person regularly stops working--and prays. So the prayer of the apostolate does not mean any simpliste identification of work and prayer. Rather the prayer of the apostolate involves two mutual and integral movements. The first is an appropriate, regular involvement in contempla-tion, which gradually spills over and renders pi'ayerful everything the person does, says and is. The second is an involvement in activity which stirs a desire for, and sometimes provides the subject matter of, formal contemplation in private. As one grows faithful and sensitive to these two movements, a pres-ence in all activity develops which is prayerful--a presence which is the Spirit of God praying and which reveals those clear signs of the Spirit mentioned in chapter five of Galatians. ¯ 6. A unity of mind and heart extending far beyond physical presence. Whereas the corporate faith vision of those sharing the monastic charism 664 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 requires much physical presence with one another, the active apostolic dynamic, because its very nature requires apostolic action and services, does not depend as much on the physical presence of the members to each other. It can foster a union of minds and hearts among members missioned all over the world in various ministries. Obviously, this corporate bond is not auto-matic. It is not the effect of any one person's fiat. It cannot be something superficially external. Rather, a unity rooted deeply in the hearts of all mem-bers will always require a profound attitude of heart on the part of each member, a distinctive type of missioning process and the careful practice of certain human, symbolic means. To say that the active charism depends less on the physical presence of the members than the monastic does certainly does not mean that physical presence can be simply disregarded in active communities. It is inhuman to imagine that members of a local live-in community, whatever the size, can develop a union of minds and hearts if they never gather together in quality physical presence. However, without disregarding the need for some such physical presence, we must not conceive the communitarian dimension Of the active charism according to monastic norms. Many active congregations today continue to struggle in local communities with how much physical presence of all members and what quality of presence of each is needed if there is to be a genuine, faith union of minds and hearts. If this struggle is not better resolved soon, increasing numbers of active religious, caught in the tension between involvement in an exciting ministry and the boring frustration of no shared vision in the local community, may well find celibacy too heavy a burden to bear alone. The De-monasticizing of Active Religious Life As religious have seriously responded to Vatican II's invitation to return to "the original inspiration" behind their own institute, a greater realization of the clear distinction between the differing and graced dynamics of the monastic and active has grown among us. In the wake of this growing clarity there also comes the realization that in the past we have not always respected this distinction with enough care. A major part of the renewal of religious life, therefore, has involved the de-monasticizing of institutes which were, in their founding, and which should, with greater fidelity over the years have continued to be, actively apostolic rather than monastic. This de-monasticizing process has not been easy. Mistakes have occurred. At times, inevitably, overreaction has set in. And many individuals have experienced great personal anguish in the midst of the confusion and turmoil of critiquing and of chang-ing, through experiment, revered and long-standing practices. But this process, although most painful, was unavoidable. To avoid it Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 665 would have been as serious a refusal as to violate the reverent d~cility due the Spirit of God who invites us to be faithful to the genuine, graced identity of our religious institute. In the past twenty years much headway has been made in realigning the fundamental conception, formation programs, ministerial practices and daily living of communities according to their rediscovered, original identity. Though the process is surely not finished, we are presently involved, appropriately enough, in a period of careful assessment of the fruits of this renewal process.7 A successful evaluation can help us to sift the precious wheat of fidelity to the essentials of religious life, as incarnated in appropriate contemporary expressions of the original founding charism, from the deceptive (though often attractive!) weeds of contemporary develop-ments that either destroy a necessary continuity of identity or shortsightedly try to defend older forms, which are now, and ought to be, simply dead. Vatican II reminds us of the importance of fidelity to the unique charism and identity of each religious community. "It serves the best interests of the Church for communities to have their own special character and purpose."s In line with this directive Thomas Merton cautions us against confusing the monastic and active dynamic: "The monastic life must not be evaluated in terms of active religious life, and the monastic orders should not be equated with other religious institutes, clerical or otherwise. The monastic community does not exist for the sake of any apostolic or educational work, even as a secondary end. The works of the monk are not justified by their external results but only by their relevance to his monastic life alone with God.''9 In conclusion, let me point to three results of respecting the clear dis-tinction between the active and monastic dynamic. First, we must be careful how we make use of the Liturgy of the Hours. In the monastic community the Liturgy of the Hours is a primary determinant and focus of the whole day, at which the physical presence of all is expected. In the active commu-nity, a regular communal prayer besides th.e Eucharist seems necessary. Some use of the Liturgy of the Hours may serve as an appropriate regular com-munity prayer. On the other hand, some other type of communal prayer may better serve a particular community. If something o.f the Liturgy of the Hours is used, it should not become a primary determinant and focus of schedule, to the detriment of the members' ministerial involvement. So, depending on the size and variety of the local community, the physical presence of all members is neither expected nor possible. However, the active community would be deficient in its unified faith vision if each member did not share the same desire to pray together regularly--which desire would always take expression in physical presence, except for ministerial reasons. But for an active community to use the Liturgy of the Hours in a monastic fashion would be to violate its God-given charism. 666 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 Second, members of active communities cannot avoid a natural monas-ticizing tendency as they get older. As the biological breakdown of old age sets in, religious become less and less active, they settle into a much more regularized pattern, and the apostolate of prayer becomes more predominant in their daily lives. If we are careful of certain presuppositions, this natural monasticizing tendency will not necessarily violate the active apostolic nature of a community. But the older members, whose lifestyle is now understand-ably more monastic, must not claim that this monastic lifestyle is the genuine identity of the whole congregation. Another subtle change of attitude could be entailed here. If a section of the motherhouse is located where many of the older, retired sisters are living, then naturally the style and schedule of life for that part of the house will be more monastic--as it should be. However, we must then be careful .that this more monastic schedule and style not be idolized as typical for all other houses of the congregation, an image that motherhouses often in the past have projected. Such a misunderstanding would be a serious interference with the unity and ministerial effectiveness of the whole congregation. In fact, it can be downright demoralizing and dis-torting for younger members. Furthermore, though these older members are much more inactive than earlier in their lives, they must be helped to keep the active zeal and concerns of their hearts alive and peacefully integrated with their bodily inactivity. These older members must also have a live sense of the ministry of old age and retirement. They must be helped to realize how valuable and necessary for the whole congregation's ministerial effectiveness is their own ministry of prayer and sacrifice. So often older religious think they have retired from ministry. I cannot stress enough the need for the elderly, and for everyone, to realize that while the aged and the sick must humbly retire from active involvement they never retire from ministry. The final and most important ministry is dying. If these concerns are not forgotten, then the natural monasticizing tendency of old age 'will not interfere with the active, apostolic nature of a religious community. Third, in the long history of women's religious congregations, for various historical reasons which are beyond my simple point here, the Church has had great difficulty in recognizing the active charism at work in the hearts of various foundresses. Angela Merici, Mary Ward, Marguerite Bourgeoys and Louise de Marillac and their followers are but a very few examples of the suffering this confusion has caused. In some ways the Church still continues to struggle today with this issue of more fully acknowledging and facilitating the active charism within communities of women religious. It is very clear that the Church's welcoming approval of valid contemporary forms of active spirituality among women religious--and without imposing any additional, Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 667 illegitimate, monastic expectations-- will enormously enrich God's mission of justice and love in our world. This article has described two different charisms, two different apostolic lifestyles, the active and the monastic. The Spirit of God has created and kept these two charisms alive in the Church. In a recent talk to the American bishops Michael Buckley, S.J., summarized the treatment of charism in the document "Directives for Mutual Relations Between Bishops and Religious in the Church": "Charism always involves three factors: It is an enabling gift of the Spirit which so conforms the recipients to Christ that they build the Church.''~° Three things, then: a gift of the Spirit, intimacy with Jesus, for the sake of the Church. As we come to appreciate further the active and monastic lifestyles in the Church, it is the hope of this writer that we will not confuse or corrupt these different charisms, but cooperate with what God intends, through them, for the unity of the Church, the holiness of its members and the service of a faith-filled justice in our world. Paul's words to the Corinthians both confirm and stimulate our hope: There is a variety of gifts but always the same Spirit; there are all sorts of service to be done, but always to the same Lord; working in all sorts of differ-ent ways in different people, it is the same God who is working in all of them. The particular way in which the Spirit is given to each person is for a good purpose (1 Co 12:4-7). NOTES ~They Speak By Silence, a Carthusian (Huntington, Indiana: Our Sunday Visitor Inc.), p.3. 2One Pace Beyond--The Life of Nano Nagle, M. Raphael Consedine, P.B.V.M., (Moorabbin, Victoria: L.R. McKinnon & Co., 1977), p. 7. 3As a result of their study of the document "Essential Elements in the Church's Teach-ing on Religious Life as Applied to Institutes Dedicated to Works of the Apostolate," Franciscans are investigating and proposing the evangelical life as the best description of their charism. It remains to be seen whether this evangelical life is a third type of spirituality different from what I am calling the monastic and the active, whether it is its own unique blend of the active and monastic, or whether it is a particular version of an active spirituality. 668 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 4Vatican 11, "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life," #8. 5Soul Friend, Kenneth Leech, (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1977), p. viii. 6Vatican II, "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life," #8. 7See my two articles "Assessing and Choosing Even as the Journey Continues," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March/April 1984, and "Come Let Us Talk This Over: Issues in Spirituality, 1985," Part 1, 'REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, July/August 1985, and Part II, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September/October 1985. 8Vatican II, "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life," #2. 9The Monastic Journey, T. Merton, (New York: Image, 1978), p. 213. ~°See "The Charism and Identity of Religious Life," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September/ October 1985, p. 661. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions I and II Address: by Patricia Spillane, M.S. C. Price: $1.25 per copy, plus postage. Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Canonical Considerations of Autonomy and Hierarchical Structure Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. Sister McDonough is an Assistant Professor in the Department of Canon Law at The Catholic University of America (Washington, DC 20064). This article is based on a presen-tation she made to the LCWR convention in New Orleans last September. In the Middle Ages--from the grips of which many people suspect canon law has never been freed--canonical discipline was known as "practical theo-logy." That is, it was not a separate science as it is today, with specialized formulators, practitioners, codifiers and interpreters. What people did on a regular basis became operative norms of action. By authoritative interven-tion or by custom these operative norms of action eventually became recog-nized as laws in the technical sense of the Aristotelian/Thomistic construct, that is: An ordinance of reason formulated and promulgated by one charged with care of the common good. At that point in time the reasonableness of the norm, the intelligence of the individual, and each person's freedom of choice were paramount. Also in the Middle Ages--from the grips of which many people like-wise suspect religious life has never been freed--the ancient monastic and recently discovered mendicant ideas of religious life held sway. By that time the former was already highly clericalized, feudally land-based, rather well-off, and subject to frequent reforms. The latter was a new notion capitalizing on mobility, the development of towns, the discovery of trade, the rise of universities, and renewed lay piety. It, too, soon became rather clericalized; comfortably land-based, economically well-off, and in need of frequent reforms. 669 670 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 Nearly three centuries later at the time of Trentmfrom the grips of which most people are quite certain canon law and religious life have not been freed--canonical science was heavily influenced by nominalism, voluntarism, legalism and emerging casuistry. At that point in time the reasonableness of the norm, the intelligence of the individual, and one's freedom of choice were no longer paramount. The then recognized forms of religious life were suffering badly from the mediocrity and compromise and half measures that commonly accompany the waning of initial fervor, the dissipation of energies, the loss of resources, the monotony of the ordinary, the discovery of personal interpretation, and the sometimes misplaced convenience of dis-pensation, exception and privilege. Similarly, all of society was in flux: notions of political power, emerging nations, methods of warfare, forms of communication, frontiers of exploration, monetary systems, philosophical reasoning, theological conclusions, and ecclesiastical structures all experienced incredible upheavals and alterations. And in the midst of this social and ecclesial melange, the desperately needed "new idea" of apostolic religious life was conceived by Angela Merici, Ignatius Loyola, Mary Ward, Louise de Marillac and Jane de Chantal. These charismatic individuals were fol-lowed in a few centuries by Catherine McAuley and many others. Perhaps it was a failure of imagination on the part of the ecclesiastical establishment that perpetuated the ancient, cloistered, monastic model in theological reasoning and canonical practice for women religious. But reli-gious life itself simply continued to develop. Eighty percent of the religious groups ever founded became established between Trent and the twentieth century, and non-cloistered, non-solemnly vowed, apostolic religious life for women was finally universally recognized, but not until 1900. Canon law-- retaining some remnant of its medieval ',practical theology" identity--could not ignore the reality of the "new idea" in religious life forever, although recognition came rather slowly by our standards. Relating to the Present But what precisely is the connection of all this with the topic at hand, namely "Canonical Considerations of Self-Determination, Just Autonomy and Hierarchical Structure"? The connection is this: At the moment recog-nized forms of religious life are suffering badly from the mediocrity and compromise and half measures that commonly accompany the waning of initial fervor, the dissipation of energies, the loss of resources, the monotony of the ordinary, the discovery of personal interpretation, and the sometimes misplaced convenience of dispensation, exception and privilege. Similarly, at the present time all of society is in flux: notions of political power, emerg-ing nations, methods of warfare, forms of communication, frontiers of explo- Canonical Considerations / (171 ration, monetary systems, philosophical reasoning, theological conclusions, and ecclesiastical structures are all experiencing incredible upheavals and alterations. We are clearly in a post-conciliar era incredibly comparable to the late Middle Ages and to post-Tridentine times. In the midst of this social and ecclesial melange, religious life is again in need--perhaps desperately in need--of yet another "new idea." But those of us who are currently members of established communities, more than likely, are not the bearers of this desperately "new idea." At best we are perhaps--or certainly have the opportunity to be--artisans of a transition. And with proper understand-ing and use, this writer contends that canon law can be a great aid in this transition. Fostering a Transition To illustrate the transitional role of contemporary religious institutes, let us for a moment take the medieval methodological approach of canon law as "practical theology" and look at what current "theology in practice" in the 1983 code suggests about this life we call "religious." To begin, the new law talks about life: an identifiable form of life, a substantive form of life, a stable form of life. It speaks of a life clearly understood and freely chosen: a life of following Christ, a life of total dedication to God. It con-siders this life a particular state in the Church undertaken by profession of the evangelical counsels and lived in accord with the supreme law of the Gospel as expressed in the proper law of one's institute. It is a life involving some fixed organizational structures, certain obligations and rights, various spiritual exercises, some restrictions on personal and apostolic activities, numerous clear procedures for admission and departure, and a public con-nection to the local and universal Church. From the point of view of "practical theology" the new code requires proper law specification in seventy-four out of the one hundred fifty-three canons that apply to religious institutes. In other words, in nearly half of the canons concerning religious, the institute itself must or may determine specific elements of the life of its members, both individually and collectively. Thus, widespread distinctions in practice are not excluded by the universal law requirements for common life, identifiable superiors, necessary forma-tion, apostolic limitations, departure procedures, and the like. The prin-ciple of subsidiarity is canonically incorporated in the new code, and opportunities for practical variations are amply provided. How well or to what extent these are utilized depends entirely on one's proper law. Proper-law revision, or the writing of constitutions, as experienced during the last two decades in the life of religious institutes has been no easy task, however. In some instances the process was carried out in an ambience of 672 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 internal polarization that fomented contentions among members as each retreated to his or her corner courageously defending the truth for the sake of God. In other instances the formulation of an institute's truly representa-tive legislation was complicated by a certain lack of contemporaneity in institutional and hierarchical Church structures themselves. Nevertheless, these difficulties do not negate the fact that it is precisely the revision of proper-law wherein lies the opportunity for institutes to incorporate new ideas and new experiences of religious life. Good proper-law revision allows them to accomplish this without having to shoulder the burden of being the initiators or receivers of the desperately needed "new idea" mentioned above. Moreover, incorporating new ideas and experiences in proper-law to the greatest extent possible now, can help pave the way for later canonical acceptance of other, newer ideas and experiences, however long that may take. Institutionalizing Charisms Backtracking momentarily before going on, let us note that the phrase "new idea" is entirely inadequate. Ideas have consequences, but they are not the only realities that have consequences. And religious life is never primarily or merely an idea, an intellectual endeavor. It is a gift of the Spirit to, in, and through the Church. Charisms are like seeds planted in particularly fertile soil in a specific historical context. They are shaped and reshaped by the exigencies of history, by the fortunes and misfortunes of the passage of time. They are nourished and grow and evolve in the context of everyday life with everyday people--interspersed here and there by those we happily refer to as "saints" (while being equally happy we never had to live with them). Charisms are never captured in constitutions or any collection of fundamental and secondary documents. Charisms live in people or they do not live at all. Legal norms, on the other hand, are externally formulated and externally measurable. They can never totally express internal motivation. Thus, the basic import of any constitutions and any collection of fundamental and secondary documents is not merely their juridical perspective and canoni-cal determination. The legal heritage of an institute, capturing as best it can the articulated charism, is always conditioned by the emerging values of real life as experienced by those inspired to embrace the charism. People are, you see, an undeniably important element of the canonical system. On another level, the institutional Church, which in some form or another has been with us for nearly two millennia, must itself occasionally reach out and embrace a genuinely new charism. In such instances the ecclesial structure must fracture its preset boundaries, redefine its established cate-gories, and reorient its institutional life in order to incorporate, that is, take Canonical Considerations / 673 into its structures, a new breath of the Spirit. This reaching out and embracing a charism has probably happened only three times in Church history: for Benedictine monasticism, medieval mendicancy, and post-reformation apostolic orders. In each instance, institutional embracing of the new charism occurred quite slowly, required numerous adjustments and experienced set-backs over the years. The time may very well be ripe for another institutional embracing of truly new charisms of consecrated life in the Church. If so, this too will occur slowly, require adjustments, and experience setbacks. And, if history can offer us any objective insights regarding the process and its effects, one might be cautioned to note that once the institutional Church reaches out and embraces a genuinely new charism, the rest of the story is that of the charism's institutionalization. It is simply a matter of time and human nature: initial ideals are eventually dimmed or forgotten; initial fervor is slowly chilled or lost; initial Gospel goals are gradually subordinated to preservation of the new institution. Suffice it to say that the readers of this article are, more likely than not, part of already established, already institutionalized charisms and, as such, are not the first wave of any new movement in religious life. Limiting Self-Determination and Autonomy The parameters of ecclesial embrace and the exigencies of historical evolu-tion are the primary limiting factors in the "self-determination"aspect of any religious founder or foundress, of any religious institute. Self-determina-tion is never absolute. It has always been far from so for religious life, and still is. But this is also the case, for example, regarding members of the Christian faithful in general. In the new code all Christians are entitled to form associations (c. 215). All Christians should lead holy lives and promote the building up of the Church (c. 210). All Christians have the right and duty to work towards announcing the Gospel of :salvation (c. 211) and to undertake apostolic activi-ties (c. 216). But no Christians are obliged in any way to seek official recog-nition for these :activities in 'any canonical form unless they choose to do them in the name of the Church '(c.301,). And no Christian is obliged in any way to choose any form of consecrated life (c. 573 §2). Yet the self-determination of any Christian (which is never absolute to begin with) is quite circumscribed and channeled--limited, if you will--by either of the above choices once made. As individuals we cannot be both teachers and nurses at the same time. As communities we cannot be both monastic and apostolic at the same time. As institutes we cannot be both Ursuline and Franciscan at the same time. Thus, in an era that prefers to deal with "both/and," we are sometimes faced with an inevitable "either/or" because 674 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 no self-determination is absolute. Similarly the "just autonomy" of any institute is always and only to be considered within the context of ecclesial embrace and historical evolu-tion. Philosophically speaking, autonomy refers to freedom from external control and censure. It guarantees room for action and reflection without disruption, but it includes necessary coordination in reference to the whole. Nevertheless, any auto nomos, from the Greek to be self-normed, is funda-mentally limited by creation and redemption: by our realistic situation of being creatures in an ambience of and affected by evil. As individuals we have from the start only limited independence that remains always relative: so, too, with religious institutes in the Church. Appreciating the Role of Obligation Here it may be important to digress somewhat to consider the bias that supports the current canonical system. It is a philosophical/theological con-struct characterized by valuing status, common good and obligation. This is so in contrast to more recent philosophical/theological constructs character-ized by valuing human dignity, individual advantage and personal rights. Neither need be mutually exclusive of, or in direct contradiction to, the other. But both have often appeared so. Even with the advances of the last few centuries and the affirmations of recent popes and the articulations of Vatican Council II, the former con-struct is the one that clearly underlies the new law. In the new code, the communal context of "status" constantly qualifies any affirmations of equality in dignity. In it, the common good--perceived as a set of conditions enabling the attainment of reasonable objectives for the sake of which individuals have decided to collaborate--is clearly prior to independent, indi-vidual advantage. In it, rights are subordinate to and conditioned upon duties intrinsic to the Gospel and to our social nature. In it, the protection of rights is for the sake of fuller participation in one's evangelical and social obliga-tions. And in it, patriarchal paradigms and male-dominated linear images still predominate. But what of the alternative constructs? What of, for example, the philosophical and theological mind-set that emerges from the social contract and human rights theories of Hobbes, Locke and Rousseau? These are to a great extent the basis of our constitutional republic and the foundation of American civil law and jurisprudence. Prescinding from their equally patriarchal paradigms and male-dominated linear images, note that social-contract and human-rights theories appear to posit the pristine existence of free, independent but highly vulnerable individuals willing to ransom a portion of personal autonomy for collective security. Rights are the "playing Canonical Considerations / 675 cards" or the "poker chips" of the barter: some cannot be relinquished (these are termed "inalienable"); others can be relinquished but can also be recalled (in breach of contract). It may appear, at times, that the institu-tional Church would be much better off with a healthy dose of American civil liberties incorporated into its legal system: with a civil rights basis; with non-hierarchical checks and balances; with protection by administrative pro-cedures; with guarantees of prior notification, due process, provision for counsel, and the like. And, for the most part, this is probably not only an accurate observation but also a viable possibility and partial reality. Witness, for instance, the numerous appeals boards and administrative tribunals that already exist in many religious institutes and dioceses to complement the heavily hierarchical Church system. Indeed, it is clear that these two systems are not, and need not be considered, contradictory or mutually exclusive. Nevertheless, there is a significant difference between the Medieval and Enlightenment mind-sets, and the difference is crucial for ecclesiastical law and especially for religious institutes. Social-contract and human-rights con-structs, while very affirming of life and dignity in theory, are singularly inept at guaranteeing life and dignity to the individual from the community in practice. This is because one finds in them no legal locus of obligation. They are based, if you will, on the implicit myth that somewhere there exists a Utopian world of perfectly free humans who have no alienated or usurped rights and who experience no unresolved conflicts, individually or collectively. Reality is not quite so Utopian. So, for example, in the American social-contract/ human-rights systems, suppose you are .walking over a bridge beneath which there is someone in the water drowning. Note that, even though the drowning person has affirmed rights to life, education, suitable housing, equal-opportunity employment, a just wage, and more, there is absolutely no civil-law focus of obligation for anyone to come to his or her aid. This is not to say there is no moral obligati?n to come tothe person's aid, but there is no legal one. In fact, the legal system--because of numerous possibilities for litigation--at times seems even to militate against fulfillment of one's moral obligations in such situations. And note that we are not discussing here the medical/moral/legal subtleties of prenatal life or of the terminally ill. We simply have a recognizably fully alive human being with numerous affirmed rights who ends up quite dead because of lack of legal obligation in the system itself. In sharp contrast, the Aristotelian/Thomistic system of law, and even further back the Judaic/Talmudic system of law, are based primarily on obligations: common, mutual, reciprocal obligations that arise from a cor-porate experience. The Hebrew, the Christian, the religious is chosen-- passive voice--be it at Sinai, through the Last Supper, or by a call to conse- 676 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 crated life. We are chosen. This is not to suggest that we, therefore, have no responsibilities; but rather, to highlight the fact that the initiative is God's. Only the response is ours. Thus it is the beginning of our system's notion of legal obligation that becomes the crucial difference in the end.~ We do not begin by bartering away any pristine "rights." We receive a gift, with consequences. The legal constructs of our lives relate to divine events in and through which everything necessary for the eternal salvation of everyone for all ages has somehow already been given, in some sense even commanded. They are the same divine events in and through which we have freely assumed personal perpetual obligations. And they provide for an amazing absence of Utopian myths. For there is in salvation history ample evidence of human failure, outright betrayal, personal and collective infidelity, repeated digressions, and an uncanny unwillingness to live up to our part of the bargain. In contrast, on the part of God, there is ample evidence of long-suffering patience, relentless forgiveness and unswerving fidelity to the promise of mercy. Moreover, if we do not read the Gospel too selectively, even after having done everything expected, you and I have no basic right or even a distant claim to any reward whatsoever, although we are assured in the end of attaining the greatest possible goal. Situating Obligation in Hierarchical Structures The importance of proper law--the law that obtains for one's own insti-tute- has already been mentioned in regard to fostering the current transition in the paradigms of religious life. Proper law is also crucial to any element of self-determination and just autonomy within the Church's hierarchical structure. And the central element of ecclesiastical proper law, as well as ecclesiastical universal law, is the locus of incumbent obligation. This is what gives our laws content and objectivity for assuring the protection of values and the exercise of rights, even if these values and rights are not directly named as such. In fact, whether or not the values and rights are actually named in the law is of minimal importance. Perhaps at this point an example is in order. There is an ancient principle of Roman Law which states: Where there is a right, there is a remedy (Ubi ius, ibi remedium). It is in the logical contrapositive that we more readily recognize the truth of the principle, namely: If there is no remedy to be found for violation of an affirmed right, there is really no right at all. With this in mind, let us proceed to the example. It is an example not taken from ttie~ law for religious so that the content will not distract from the point intend~dl. Chnon 22'1! §'2',of~ the 1983 code states: If the Christian faithful are sum- Canonical Considerations / 677 moned to judgment by c6mpetent authority, they have the right to be judged in accord with the prescriptions of law applied with equity. It sounds wonder-ful. But what is there to guarantee that this will, indeed, be the case? The answer: incumbent obligations and opportunities to insist on their fulfill-ment as provided in the canons on judicial procedures. °The affirmed right of c. 221 §2 can be vindicated because all tribunal personnel must take an oath that they will fulfill their functions properly and faithfully (c. 1454). All tribunal personnel must disqualify themselves from involvement in cases concerning: (1) persons with whom they have a first-cousin or closer relationship, (2) persons for whom they are guardians or trustees~ (3) persons with whom they have a close friendship or for whom they feel a great animosity, as well as (4) those instances in which they desire to make a profit or avoid some loss (c. 1448). And if the tribunal personnel do not disqualify themselves, the parties in the case can lodge an objection (c. 1229) to which the court must attend before the trial can continue (c. 1451). All tribunal personnel are forbidden to accept any gifts whatsoever for the performance of their duties (c. 1456). And any tribunal personnel are subject to penalties, including loss of office, if they refuse to deal with a case for which they are competent, or attempt to deal with a case for which they are not competent, or violate the law of secrecy, or inflict damage on the parties out of malice or serious negligence (c. 1457). In other words, these procedural canons--specifying as they do the legal locus of obligations and providing the opportunity to insist that the obliga-tions be fulfilled--are really what give canonical force to c. 221 §2. But the point is this: These canons, albeit with different numbers, were also in the former code. The affirmation of current c. 221 §2 was not. How much this newly affirmed "right" would mean without these related obligations is questionable, for indeed: If there is no remedy, there is really no right. And how much this newly incorporated right actually adds to the related, already long-standing procedures still remains to be seen. All the foregoing in norway intends to ignore the fact that. even in the best of legal systems incumbent obligations can upon occasion be observed primarily in the breach. The intention is, rather, to provide a clear under-standing of the importance of obligations in the Church's legal system in order to investigate more meaningfully the numerous obligations contained in the canons concerning religious institutes. Religious Institutes and Obligations To begin our discussion, as well as to illustrate the complexity of the: interrelationships among canons, let us consider thosecanons contaii~ed under the title "Obligations and Rights of Institutes and of their Members,." cc. 678 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 662-672. As often as one might comb the (official Latin) text of the canons, there is not one strict right (ius) to be found. But at this point in the presenta-tion, such a discovery should be no great surprise: It is the locus of incumbent obligation, not the affirmation of rights, that is the substantive base for our legal system. Moreover, listed in these canons there are numerous obliga-tions from which it is clear that what other legal systems call "rights" will be respected even though not mentioned by name. To pursue the practical content of obligations/rights in the code as related to self-determination, just autonomy and hierarchical structure, we will isolate one of the canons in this section and investigate its canonical consequences. Perhaps the most important obligation listed in this set of canons is that of c~ 670: Each institute must (debet) supply for its members all those things necessary for attaining the end of their vocation. The debet is canonically preceptive language. The subject, object, and matter of the obligation are, respectively, the institute, its members, and necessities. Proper law should certainly address itself to the objective meaning of "necessities," and the meaning should have some reference to what is justly judged so in an equit-able manner by competent authority within the norms, structures, and resources of a particular institute. There is some problem, to be sure, with relating mandated necessities to the end of one's vocation when that end ultimately transcends temporal realities and, thus, is effectively precluded from the possibility of practical evaluation. But consequences of the mandate in c. 670 are extensive and have already been addressed by canonists.2 At the very least, this obligation on the part of institutes is interpreted as requiring those in positions, of government to provide for, and as giving members a corresponding right to: (1) sound, complete, approved proper law, (2) structural provision for general chapters, superiors and councils, (3) systematic formation, (4) stable community life, (5) suitable options for apostolic action or internal work in accord with the institute's mission, and (6) appropriate material goods and .opportunities for ongoing health care, formation, work and renewal. Note that none of the mutual obligations/rights in this list are meaningful except as connected to a coherent legal system that can guarantee their fulfill-ment. And recall that in Church law the locus of incumbent obligation is what provides objective content and procedural safeguards for affirmed or unaffirmed rights. It is the locus of incumbent obligation that is the basis for whatever down-ward or lateral accountability might exist in our hierarchical system, which Canonical Considerations / 679 operates primarily on the intrinsic principle of upward accountability. That is, in fulfilling well the obligations it has towards its members (i.e., its down-ward accountability), any institute is also more than likely fulfilling its obliga-tions towards the other elements of the hierarchical structure (i.e., its lateral and upward accountability). Simply put, an institute cares for downward accountability by attending to the legal obligations it has towards its members. It does this by providing for at least the six categories mentioned as flowing from the requirement of c. 670. But in so doing the institute is not only protecting the rights of individual members. It is also establishing itself on a sound operational basis for relating to equivalent juridic persons, such as other religious institutes, in lateral accountability. And it is likewise con-tributing to its own just autonomy in the upward accountability of the insti-tute to higher authorities in the hierarchical structure. Thus, all of the mutual obligations/rights that derive from c. 670 are directly or indirectly related to the question of an institute's existence and just autonomy. But the motive for action and the locus of accountability in c. 670-- fulfilling obligations toward members--shift the focus for the institute from that of accepting the collective imposition of alien restrictions to that of guaranteeing the possible pursuance of someone's response to having been chosen. It is possible to approach this accountability from an entirely different perspective, namely: from the recog-nition of just autonomy for religious institutes in c. 586. Indeed, the result of beginning with c. 586 might even be somewhat similar, as will be seen in the next section. Yet the basis for action in the former approach is probably more canonically sound. Religious Institutes and Just Autonomy Canon 586 states that it belongs to local ordinaries to preserve and protect (servare ac tueri) the autonomy of each institute. In the same canon "just autonomy of life, especially of government" is recognized by universal law. The canon goes on to describe this "just autonomy" as that by which insti-tutes enjoy (gaudeant) their own discipline and have the power to pre~serve (servare valeant) their patrimony3 intact. The patrimony of an institute of consecrated life is described in c. 578 as the intention and purpose of the founders/foundresses, sanctioned by competent ecclesiastical authority, con-cerning the nature, end, spirit and character of the institute as well as its sound traditions. The canon adds that this patrimony is to be faithfully preserved (servanda est) by all. Elsewhere, in c. 631 § 1, the general chapter is given special responsibility both to protect (tueri) the institute's patrimony as described in c. 587 and to promote its appropriate renewal (accommodatam renovationem). Still elsewhere in c. 587 §1, institutes must (debent) incor-porate into their constitutions .whatever is established regarding their 680 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 patrimony in order to faithfully protect (ad. fide#us tuendam) the voca-tion and identity of their instutute. Another set of canons is also pertinent to the investigation at hand: cc. 675 §1, 611 #2, 677 §1, and 671. The first states that in apostolic institutes apostolic action is part of their very nature (ipsam eorundem naturam). The second states that a bishop's consent for canonical erection of a religious house includes the right (ius) to exercise the works proper to the institute according to the norm of law and within any restrictions contained in the consent. The third states that superiors and members of institutes should faithfully retain (fide#ter retineanO and prudently accommodate (prudenter accommodenO the mission and works of their institute. And the fourth states that members may not undertake pgsitions outside of those proper to the institute,without the permission of legitimate superiors. Both the language and the interplay of all these canons are significant. The patrimony of any institute, or, if you will, the meaningful heritage or expres-sion of its charism, is somehow to be contained in its proper law. Note that this is the same sound, complete, approved proper law to which membe~-s have a right by reason of the obligation in c. 670. And this patrimony is to be preserved by all--an unqualified and inclusive all--according to c. 578. Con-stitutions (c. 587), general chapters (c. 631), and local ordinaries (c. 586) are each required (using some form of the same Latin verb, tueor) to protect the institute's patrimony. Chapters have the responsibility to renew it (c. 631), while superiors and members have the ability to retain and accommodate certain aspects of it (c. 677). Now for the sake of example, let us suppose that an institute has been founded whose nature is apostolic, whose purpose is to practice the corporal works of mercy, whose spirit is non-monastic, and whose character, because of its purpose, is for the most part one of commitment to individual rather than to collective apostolates. Let us also suppose that the instutute is of pontifical right, that it has three canonically erected houses in three dioceses, and that its members are present in seven other dioceses in which the institute has n6 canonically erected houses. Finally, let us suppose that a member of this institute, with appropriate permission from internal authorities and fulfilling the norms of universal and proper law, is exercising an apostolate which the diocesan bishop does not wish this person to exercise in the diocese entrusted to his care. The stage is set, is it not, for the play of tensions commonly experienced between just autonomy and hierarchical structure? Without being facetious, let me suggest further that the script for this act of the play commonly has the religious entering stage left, the bishop entering stage right, and all defini-tive action coming Deus ex machina from above. The entire performance Canonical Considerations / 681 is usually viewed only through the opera glasses of a communications media well known for its ability to distort the factual while filling lacunae with unfounded conjecture. When the curtain falls, there are inevitable winners and losers, but who belongs to which category most often depends on where you were seated--center orchestra, third balcony, backstage, or in the wings. And usually the real issues have neither been well addressed nor even partially solved, while genuine Christian values, not to mention Christian people, have more than likely been forgotten or neglected or badly battered during the performance. As a canonist, this writer holds there are viable alternatives to the above scenario. For, if law does nothing else for us in the Church, it ought to at least be able to function as the impartial arbiter in cases of conflict. How well it can do this for cases such as the above, however, depends on how clearly and thoroughly obligations are both delineated in proper law and fulfilled by those responsible for them. But, to return to the case and the question at hand: Can the bishop prohibit the religious from exercising the apostolate in the diocese entrusted to his care? If you view it from the per-spective of the religious--to use familiar phraseologywthe "bad news" is that he probably can, because ultimately all religious are subject to the power of the bishop in apostolic works (c. 678 §1). The "good news" is that such a prohibition would be very difficult in some circumstances. Needless to say, if you are looking at this case from the vantage point of the bishop, the content of the answer is exactly the same: The prohibition is probably possible but possibly very difficult. The law, you see, is rather objective and can be an impartial arbiter in such matters, even though the "goodness" or "badness", attributed to the content would probably be reversed (and logically so) in the judgment of the bishop. Why is it probably possible but possibly very difficult for the bishop to forbid the religious from exercising an apostolate in the diocese entrusted to his care? The answer, to be canonically sound, requires a careful investi-gation of the canons previously mentioned. If the institute is an apostolic one, then apostolic works are part of its nature by law (c. 675). The nature of an institute as sanctioned by ecclesiastical authority is part of its patri-mony to be preserved°by all (c. 578) and contained in its constitutions (c. 587). The power to preserve this patrimony is part of an institute's legally recognized just autonomy of life, and local ordinaries are to preserve and protect this autonomy (c. 586). Regarding just autonomy of life, on the one hand, it cannot be restricted merely to internal matters or only to government. If autonomy is restricted to internal matters, then the understanding of religious life under universal law would be a dichotomized, compartmentalized one. The code takes great 682 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 pains to indicate that this is clearly not the case, and especially for the apostolic activity of apostolic institutes (cc. 662, 673, 675). Furthermore, if autonomy is restricted to the institute's internal government, then the just autonomy "especially of government" recognized in c. 586 is a meaningless phrase even canonically. On the other hand, if any apostolate is fundamental to an institute and if any autonomy in regard to this apostolate is to be recognized, then the apostolate must be clearly articulated in the institute's constitutions. If it is clearly articulated in the constitutions, and if the institute has a canon-cially erected house in the diocese, then this includes a strict right (ius) to exercise proper-law apostolate(s) of the institute from this house (c. 611 #2). Note, however, that while the institute has this right, each and every member of the institute is not necessarily free to exercise the right. Canonists do agree that, in granting consent for a religious house, a diocesan bishop can restrict some of the institute's activities for all of the members or all of the institute's activities for some of the members. But they also agree that he cannot restrict all of the institute's activities for all of the members. If he judges this extreme restriction necessary, he simply ought not to grant consent for establishing the house. Thus, in response to the case, if: - there is a constitutionally established apostolate - exercised by a member of the institute -~with proper internal permissions ~ according to universal law (i.e., legally) -. from a canonically established house -to which no general or specific apostolic restrictions have been attached, it would be very difficult for the bishop to prevent the religious from continuing the apostolic activity. The prohibition would not be impossible, however, because it is provided by c. 679, that if: - the bishop judges there is a most grave cause - after having referred the matter to the major superior - and if the major superior does not take appropriate action - the bishop can prohibit the religious from remaining in the diocese. But this action constitutes a penalty (c. 1327 §1) which means that -the procedure for application of penalties is to be followed (cc. 1341-1353) - no steps may be dispensed with (c. 87) 7 all wording must be interpreted strictly (c. 18) - the constitutions of the institute may not be violated (c. 1327 §1) and - the bishop must immediately inform the Holy See of his action (c. 679). Canonical Considerations / 683 Whence, the answer given above must contain an important qualification: The prohibition is probably possible but possibly very difficult only if the initial legal obligations regarding apostolate, houses and constitutions have been fulfilled by the institute to which the member belongs. But such is not usually the case, is it? For the most part situations arise in which it is clear that one or many of the above legal obligations have not been fulfilled and, consequently, the rights involved are not well protected. It often happens that the institute has no canonically erected house in the diocese. Then there is simply no right for the institute or any of its member to exercise any apostolate there. If they do so, they do so at the good will of the bishop who can subsequently forbid what he has previously permitted. The written agreements between diocesan bishops and competent superiors, which are now required by c. 681 when entrusting works to religious, might possibly give the religious a cause for civil-law action in the case of a breach of contract, but this could only occur if the agreements were poorly composed canonically in the first place. One might add that adhering to the require-ment for these written agreements, which are supposed to include the type of work involved, could possibly identify potential conflicts such as the above case in their incipient stages. It also often happens that a particular activity exercised by a religious is not mentioned--or at least not referred to in a specific enough manner--to definitively include it in the constitutionally approved elements of the insi-tute's apostolate. The competent internal authority by making a practical interpretation in the course of good government may judge that this specific activity is included within the constitutionally approved elements of its aposto-late. But if this practical interpretation is challenged and recourse is had to the competent external authority, the interpretation of the authority who approved the constitutions in the first place is the one that prevails. Another common occurrence is practical accommodation of an institute's mission and apostolic works by the superiors and members in accord with c. 677. An institute may adapt its apostolate from educating orphans, for instance, to educating Blacks or Hispanics. Or, again, an institute may relin-quish nursing in hospitals in order to serve in home-nursing ministries. Some-times these accommodations are not subsequently or accurately incorporated into one's constitutions by a general chapter. But legal affirmation of such adjustments is both the obligation and prerogative of general chapters accord-ing to c. 631. If general chapters do not fulfill their obligations by providing an adequate update of an institute's proper law, the "good news" and "bad news" for the religious will be rendered as mentioned above. Three other forms of apostolic accommodation are also common and can be far more problematic, namely: 684 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 (1) defining the institute's mission and apostolate in so generic a manner that almost any apostolic activity can be included in them, (2) including in the institute's mission and apostolate some activities that appear to be only indirectly connected with its patrimony, and (3) including in the institute's mission and apostolate those activities which relate closely to those prohibited for religious in universal law. It would be unrealistic--if not grandiose--to attempt a treatment here of the specifics of each of these instances, but all three can certainly be recog-nized as occasions for another play of tensions between just autonomy and hierarchical structure. In the process of approval of constitutions, competent ecclesiastical authorities often perceive these instances as fostering generic vagueness or minute inclusiveness or institutional challenges: Their response is usually to request or to mandate adjustments in wording and/or content. This is often viewed by the institutes both as a violation of their just auto-nomy and as a negation of their renewal experiences. There is no doubt that the attitudes of those involved in the dialogues concerning constitutional revision are crucial to the results. In the first case just suggested, there can be--but need not be--a real danger of dissipating an institute's resources by too extensive a diversification within a generic category, such as education or health care or social justice. In the second, there can be, but need not be, a noble attempt to "legitimize" the activity of every member, however diversified, by incorporating it by name into the institute,s proper law. In the third, there can be, but need not be, a genuine and necessary prophetic challenge to the gradually institutionalized: restrictions on Gospel imperatives. Whether competent authorities and reli-gious institutes approach these and similar situations from a stance of polari-zation and confrontation or from a stance of pluralism and constructive compromise alters the "flashpoint" of the matter involved. A "flashpoint" is the degree of flammability of combustible materials. Most readers will probably be aware that there have been many tenuous "flashpoints" approached and passed by the interaction of hierarchy and religious--as well as among religious themselves--throughout history. Such opposition and conflict, indeed, utter conflagrations at times, have been regrettable and are certainly not to be excused.4 But in the interaction of religious charism and ecclesial institution they will always be potentially present. Suggestions are sometimes made that religious institutes experiencing great charism/hierarchical tensions might opt for what is referred to as "non-canonical" status. Legally speaking "non-canonical" is a misnomer as well as an almost impossible option. Religious institutes are by law public juridic persons (c. 634, 116 §2). Canonical Considerations / 685 This means they automatically have a "canonical status" which can also be described as legal standing or public authentication within the ecclesial structure. This status is understood to guarantee the soundness of the insti-tute's charism and traditions, to empower the duly elected officers of the institute forgoverning, and to confer a mandate on the institute (and its members) for apostolic activities. It is quite clear in Church law that only the appropriate ecclesiastical authorities--namely, Diocesan ]~ishops or the Apostolic See--can erect religious institutes (cc. 576, 578-579, 589), can approve and accept the charisms of founders and foundresses (c. 578), and can officially interpret and moderate the practice of the evangelical counsels (c. 576). Any public juridic person in the Church is by law a "perpetual" entity and can be legitimately extinguished only by competent authority (c. 120 §1). The Apostolic See alone is able to suppress an institute of consecrated life once it has been canonically erected (c. 584). On the occasion of such sup-pression, the disposition of the goods of the institute, which are by law "ecclesiastical goods" (c. 1257), belongs to the Apostolic See (c. 584) unless the approved statutes of the public juridic person (i.e., the institute's proper law) provide otherwise (c. 123). Thus, the material possessions of any religious institute, as well as the final decisions regarding what is to be done with them, do not belong ultimately to the institute or to its members but to the institutional Church. Moreover, religious institutes are "collegial" public juridic persons (c. 115 §2) andas such continue to exist (unless suppressed) as long as there is one surviving member, upon whom all the rights and obliga-tions of the institute devolve (c. 120 §2). For two major reasons, therefore, it is not legally realistic for a religious institute as such to become "non-canonical" in response to the tensions experienced in the interplay of the institute's charism and hierarchical struc-tures: (1) suppression of a religious institute is difficult to accomplish and (2) truly non-canonical status is almost impossible to find. First, an institute does not have the authority to suppress itself; and it is rare that all members of an institute might opt for requesting suppression by the Apostolic See. If such were the case., however, the juridic person could totally cease to exist. But if even a few chose to remain and were allowed to do so, these few would then enjoy all the rights and assume all the obligations of the still existing original religious institute. The ecclesiastical goods of the institute would also be subject to the care and control of the remaining members according to Church law? In other words, the mem-bers of any religious institute cannot simply decide to self-destruct the juridic person and head off into the sunset, each fortified with his or her own "piece 686 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 of the (institutional) rock." Second, even if an institute were sup

Issue 26.5 of the Review for Religious, 1967. ; A Contemplative. House by Btrnard Hi#ing, C.Ss.R. 771 Institutional Business Administration by John J. Flanagan, S.J., and James L O'Connor, S.J. 779 An Attitude towards Cgmmunity by Andre Auw, C.P. 797 The Vows and Christian Life by Gary F. Greif, S.J. ~ 805 Stability of Personnel Assignments by James F. Gray, S.M. 834 Religious Obedience ¯ by Jean-Marc Laporte, S.J. 844 Bishops and Religious Life by Theodore J. St. Hilaire, S,J. 860 The Priest-Religious by Jam~s Kelsey McConica, G.S.B. 869 Modes of Prayer by Joseph J. Sikora, S.J. 884 Eucharist, Indwelling, Mystical Body by Thomas Dubay, S.M. 910~ Meeting the Vocation Crisis by Shaun McCarty, M.S.Ss. T. 939 Seminarians on a College Campus by Edward F. Heenan, S.J. 946 Survey of Roman Documents 954 Views, News Previews 961 Questions and Answers 964 Book Reviews 968 BERNARD HARING, C.Ss.R, A Contemplative House Notes from a Discussion Held at Notre Dame On March 12, 1967, two priests, a laywoman, and several sisters met at Lewis Hall on the Notre Dame campus to discuss the feasibility of establishing one or more contemplative houses in the midst of our active communities. We wished to examine our reasons for desiring such a thing, the concrete shape such a desire might take, and the objections against it. What emerged from the discussion were three different types of con-templative houses. Some of the issues raised and points discussed are given below: 1. A contemplative house designed primarily to meet the needs of an active community was proposed. Now that we are beginning to appreciate 'better the indi-vidual vocations within a community, an opportunity should be provided for those who feel themselves called to a life of more radical prayer to fulfill this calling. Not only are there differences of vocation within a community but also differences or evolution within an individual vocation itself. The house would provide an opportunity for mature religious, having already had apostolic experience, who now feel themselves called to greater contemplation. We felt that it would be better to leave the amount of time spent in the contemplative house completely open. Some might want to spend a few months there, others a year or a few years, others might enter on a permanent basis. The house would provide for the entire community a place of retreat, meeting various needs. It could be a center of spir-ituality, a source of refreshment for the community as a whole. Such a community would need a core group, really called to contemplation, who would perhaps spend a certain amount of time with an already estab-lished contemplative group to learn the life from within. There are contemplative groups which can pro-vide this opportunity. 2. Another proposal concerned a contemplative house with the double aim of providing an opportunity of 4. 4. 4. Bernard H~iring, C.Ss.R., is teaching at Union Theo-logical Seminary; :Apartment 412; Mc- Gifford Hall; 99 Claremont Avenue; New York 10027. VOLUME 26, 1967 Bernard Hdring, C.Ss.R. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS contemplative life to its members and of restoring con-templative values within the world, particularly in those areas most starved for those values. ~Vhat was intended here concerned slum neighborhoods, so profoundly de-humanized. The house would be completely accessible to the neighborhood and would provide, a place of quiet, prayerfulness, and beauty, combined with radical poverty. Many in the slum areas have never experienced these values. It was suggested that one of the main reasons why our young people are able to appreciate social action, Peace Corps, civil rights work, and so forth, but have no appreciation [or contemplation is that they have never really come into contact with contemplative values. This house would provide the opportunity for such an experience. The location would be flexible; a house might be rented, perhaps, so that the group could move with the needs. Not only physical poverty, but contemplative poverty ("receptivity") would be stressed--learning to see and hear, and to receive life as a gift. 3. Also discussed was a contemplative house with the double aim of providing an opportunity of contempla-tive life to its members and of bringing Christianity in its simplest, most essential form to newly Christianized cotmtries, for example, Africa. Such a setting provides a constant call to authenticity, being rooted in the places of greatest need. It would provide an opportunity for presenting Christianity in its evangelical simplicity, stripped of extraneous cultural accretions and "works." Religious who seek to realize their vocation in this way should have both a profoundly contemplative calli.ng and a missionary calling, since a great deal of adjust-ment would be required. Points raised with reference to one or all of these proposals: Why? --because this is an age of polarities, andjust as there is a thrust towards hyperactivism, there must be a corre-sponding thrt~st towards radical prayer, in order to re-store the balance --because of the possibility of an evolution in spir-ituality in the individnal; a person who has no incli-nation towards a contemplative vocation at one time in his life may be drawn to this later, and should find provision for fulfilling this call within his own community --for the witness, sorely needed, of a life of prayer as manifested by religious --to realize in our lives Christ's periodic withdrawal into the desert and the rhythm of the Apostles' lives, as seen in Acts (their labors in the field ~,ere punctuated by periodic returns to the community) --to provide for the unique experience of community which can be found most radically in a contemplative community --to deepen and vivify the active apostolate to which these religious will return, from which they withdraw, and in which they will continue to live --as a response to a demand the Holy Spirit seems to be making on us now --as an expression of the Christian life of simplicity and poverty --to become more consciously and intensely "aware"; to allow one's consciousness to expand, to listen con-templatively-- in ways which are not possible while we are "busy about many things" Where? --in a house which belongs to the community but is in some sense "away," as at a country home or in some such semi-secluded location --in a place of radical "authenticity" (see n. 3) --at the motherhouse (or "central" house), if novitiate and other satellite institutions are removed from this place --within a city slum (see n. 2) For Whom? --establish minimai age, then open it to anyone who feels the need or desire for this type of life --use norms of selectivity in order to prevent this from becoming a place of escape, a haven for neurotics, the malcontents, and so forth --exercise no authoritarian selectivity, recognizing the right of any individual, for any motive, to try, at least, such an experiment --for the artists, as well as the contemplatives, of a community, since their creativity requires a greater flexi-bility in spirituality and prayer How Long? --undetermined; perhaps for a summer, for a year, for a number of years --in some cases, perhaps with the nucleus or core group, this will become a permanent vocation How to Support the House? --by alms --by some form of agricultural work --by conducting retreats in connection with the house --by providing for some of the members of the com- + ÷ ÷ A Contemplative Hottse VOLUME 26, 1967 ÷ ÷ ÷ Bernard H;C~r~i$n.gR,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS~ munity to go out to work, professionally or otherwise; perhaps members could take turns --by giving lessons there, as might be the case were this the community in which the artists lived, as men-tioned above --by doing work in connection with that of ~he in-stitute, for example, to be a "communication center" Miscellaneous Points --safeguard at all costs flexibility, creativity, originality, in initiating such an experiment --yet learn from long established contemplative commu, nities what they can offer ---distinguish cloister versus contemplative community --consider the problem of integrating some form of the apostolate with this contemplative house so that there is a constant feedback, yet so that the need for solitude, prayer, and withdrawal are respected --such a house might be a cooperative endeavor among several communities or among the third and second orders of such communities as the Dominicans, Fran-ciscans, and so forth --groups should be small and highly experimental --part of renewal tends to admit that within our exist-ing congregations the person can no longer be fitted to the structure; the structure, therefore, must be broad-ened enough for all "talents" in the community Objections and Dil~culties --would this lead to an unhealthy division in the com-munity and to an attitude that would relegate the need for contemplative prayer to those participating in the house of prayer? --what can be done to restore the concept of leisure and the desire for contemplation to all rather than to the few who will be involved in this experiment? --would this cause a disorientation in one's own life or in the life of the community? --how can this be reconciled with the spirit of a com-munity whose essential work is the social apostolate? ---in the work of renewal, is the revitalizing of the witness of a life of prayer absolutely fundamental (and thus to be given priority), or must secondary matters first be reconsidered in order to achieve a level of maturity without which such a contemplative vocation could develop? --if such a house is needed, is this only symptomatic or indicative that we have to discover a better means of integration of prayer and the apostolate within our existing structures? --would not clearing away the "rubble" (obsolete ob- servances, and so forth) pave the way to a deeper Christian life without this? (The Notre Dame group would be interested in re-ceiving support and suggestions from anyone genuinely concerned with promoting this cause. Please address correspondence to Sister Marie, Via Di Villa Lauchli, 180; Rome, Italy; and/or Box 216; Lewis Hall; Notre Dame, Indiana.) A Contemplative House in the Midst, of Active Com-munities Almost every week I receive letters from religious who are intensely interested in the idea of a contempla-tive house in the midst of our active religious com-munities. Many religious and laymen support this idea with their prayers and their thoughts. The issue is on the agenda of many general chapters. It is, I feel, one of the greatest hopes for an authentic understanding of Church renewal. Some of the reasons why I feel this to be so are as follows: I. "My house shall be a house of prayer" (Lk 19:46). In our dynamic society where man organizes and manages almost everything, one aspect of humanity is greatly endangered: man in his dignity before God, man in his receptivity and humble dependence on God's graciousness. The feverish pace of technical development, the quasi-religious belief in economic progress and organization threaten man's capacity to listen to the word of God, to treasure it in his heart, and to ponder it. All man-kind needs such a study of the problem of prayer with a view to helping modern man relearn what it means to pray. To achieve this goal it is not sufficient that some people retire totally from the active life into cloisters, giving up their contact with the "world." The value of the cloister and of stable contemplative vo-cations must not be overlooked, but neither must this be considered as the only way of restoring contempla-tive life or of witnessing to the prime importance of prayer. 2. The era of the Second Vatican Council is an epoch of change. Many of the changes are overdue. In some areas of the Church, calculated and uncalculated re-sistance to the approach of Pope John and the Council, even from men and women in authority, provokes an increasing impatience and restlessness. Changes are sometimes made in a spirit of counterreaction against reactionary attitudes. All of this unrest and ferment must be countered by a more contemplative and tran-quil approach to renewal. Only if we have brothers and sisters among us who can treasure in their heart the ÷ A Contemplative House VOLUME 26, 1967 775 Be~ard HiCir.i$nsg.R,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS gospel and the salvific events in our tirn'e and ponder our needs before God in prayer, can we begin to find that peace which .bears fruit a hundredfold in wise activity and wise changes. 3. In our time the specialization and differentiation of society and of the Church have reached a new level o{ development, and legitimately so. Our. active re-ligious communities have developed a new style of ef-fective and well-planned activity, with excellent profes-sional training, and so forth. For the integrity of the person and the community we must now develop the agpect of integration. It is not,sufficient that besides the active congregations there exist also contemplative orders. There is not enough exchange and sharing be-tween these two different (and often all too different) modes of life, and communities tend to keep the two distinct. At least some of the contemplative commu-nities could and should be deepened in their spirituality and widehed in their horizons. They could then serve as schools of prayer for others who are engaged .for the greater, part of their life in apostolic or profes- Sional activity~ But for the present time it seems to me that, generally, the more expedient solution would b'e, not. a kind of .confederation between a contem-plative order or cloister and an active community-- although this might work out well in some cases---but rather the opening of a house of prayer as an 6ssentia'l and integrating part of the active community. 4.~Just as there is a need for integration in' every community---especially in the highly.efficient active com-munity- there is also need for integration in the life of the individual person. We have tides in our life during which we need another type of community and another style of life. This may be a need for more contemplation. On the one hand, in an active com-munity some may well develop an authentic permanent vocation for the contemplative life. There should be a place for such a vocation within the congregation. On the other hand, almost all of us would like a sabbatical year which wd could devote to spiritual renewal within a zealous, healthy contemplative com-munity. What Form Should Such a "House o[ Prayer" Take?. 1. Much consideration must be given to this ques-tion, and experiments should be made in somewhat different ways. After listening to many religious who are interested in this idea, I am sure that the Holy Spirit will move us in the right direction, though per-haps through humble experiments and some mistakes. Blot the greater mistake would be not to try to find a concrete solution. There must be exchange of thought and experience. 2. In my opinion a house of prayer also should be, if possible, a center for .the earnest study of theology --o[ that mystical and ascetical theology which is needed so badly by the whole Church. Contemplation and meditation must be solidly grounded on a deep knowl-edge of our Lord and of our brothers and sisters with whom we live. 3. There should be as far as possible a stable' nucleus of sisters (or fathers or brothers) with an authentic vocation for the contemplative life. Among them there should be at least one who is well trained in theology, and possibly another with thorough training in psychol-ogy. Methods of concentration and prayer should be studied, and these should include the best of the Yoga and the Zen traditions. Modern man is lost unless we discover how to reeducate him for a life of concen-tration, contemplation, and prayer. A group of people with an authentic and permanent vocation to the contemplative life would enrich all those who come on a temporary basis. A stable con-templative vocation, however, would not exclude the possibility that some who live this life might occasionally have a "sabbatical year" during which they might teach mystical theology or engage in religious forma-tion work. Just as a contemplative vocation can develop from an active one, so also a most fruitful active aposto-late can develop from a more contemplative vocation, and this would be especially appropriate in the area of interior renewal. 4. Active communities should grant to their members the right to apply for the house of prayer whenever the special need is felt. They should be encouraged to spend at least half a year or a year there once or twice in their life. Shorter periods should not be excluded, even a few weeks each year, on condition that the religious wills to join the serious contemplative life as fully as possible for that time. 5. Some of the members of such a house could be qualified to conduct, longer retreats on an individual basis, whenever there is a need for this. Sisters them-selves (and not only priests) should be so qualified for this work. 6. The financial care of the house.should be assumed by the active community to which it belongs. This should not, however, prevent the members of the con-templative house from doing some work for their liveli-hood. The spirit of poverty and simplicity should reign, but there should be no pressure from financial worries. 7. Such a house of prayer might be in a place of A Contemplative House VOLUME 26~ 1967 777 Bernard H~ring, C~s.R. seclusioh "or it might be in. the inner city. We must study the problem of how to create the atmosphere for contemplative fife in the modern environment, and this might require an establishment in the inner city. How-ever, this shofild not be the only type of experiment. Some experiments should also start in the most favora-ble external conditions for contemplation. I would not, however, suggest the traditional type of cloister with all its severe rules and grills: these new houses should be models for the formation of the mature Christian. 8. The house of prayer must at the same time be a real community, a school of fraternal love. Genuine contemplation goes hhnd in hand with growth in fra-ternal love. The chief objection qikely to be advanced against m), proposal is the following: We are already overworked without this house of prayer. Some would escape in this way from an overburdened life; but for the others, the burdens would just become worse. My tentative response is this: When the program for a better pro-fessional training of the sisters was inaugurated, many had the same objection. But since ,the leaders of this movement were convinced of the necessity for the pro-gram, they 'found ways to free the sisters. And today all realize that efficiency is much greater if all the sisters have received the best possible formation. Anal-ogously, we are confronted with a genuine need today: we lose much energy and quite a few vocations as a result of the tensions and frustrations which derive from our activism. The house of prayer as here con-ceived would be above all a source of divine energy and peace, but it would also be a source of peace and energy on the psychological level. If the need is genuine and if my proposed solution seems to have merit, men and women of faith will find the experiment a reasona-ble risk. It may well be that the presence of a house ¯ of prayer within the active communities would change our hectic style of life without diminishing our witness and our professional efficiency. Isn't.,it better to explore the possibility than simply to tolerate the evils it seeks to remedy? REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JOHN J. FLANAGAN, S.J.,AND JAMES I. o'CONNOR, S.J. Institutional Business Administration and Religious Catholic institutions in education and in the health field have for many'years been embarrassed and handi-c; ipped because of a conflict between religious govern-ment and good acadenfic and good health administra-tion and because of a conflict of interest between wh~t is good for a religious house and what is proper for a facility which has assumed a public responsibility. This article is not intended to reconcile the two ob-jectives into an harmonious compromise; instead, it sug-gests that the two sets of objectives do not lend them-selves to a compromise into one common objective; rather, each set is a valid objective in its own right and should be allowed to function as separate and mutually exclusive endeavors. We contend that religious and, to some extent, ca-nonical provisions have attempted to force a marriage between two entirely divergent concepts. The results have been, in some instances, the weakening of religious government and the clouding of its primary objective. The results have also been frustration in academic and health administration bringing about a series of com-promises producing much mediocrity. Attempts have been made to expand the responsi-bilities of a religious house beyond its original purpose. Consequently,. the religious house has been burdened with responsibilities beyond its conceptual resources. Moreover, superiors have been tortured into a type of split personality which has given rise to a hybrid and curious end product. A religious house, in the eyes of the Church and in John J. Flana-gan, S.J., is execu-tive director of the Catholic Hospital Association; 1438 South Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Mis-souri 63104. James I. O'Connor, s.J., is professor o[ canon law at Bellarmine School of Theology; 230 South Lincoln Way; North Aurora, Illinois 60542. VOLUME 26, 1967 John J. Flanagan, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS its original canonical conception, was a home for re-ligious. Its definition, even today, is in terms of the minimum number of religious necessary to constitute it a canonical entity. The purpose of the religious house was to foster religious life and the personal growth of individuals in the pursuit of their religious lives. The term, religious house, means every house of any re-ligious institute whatever; a forrnal or formed house is every house in which dwell at least six professed religious, at least four of whom must be priests if it is a house of a clerical institute (c. 488, 5°). Ecclesiastical property is that which belongs to an ecclesiastical moral, that is, legal .person such as a com-munity, a province, or an institute (c. 1497, § 1). Canonical regulations are directed primarily to the welfare of religious as religious and to the preservation of the religious institute as such. Canons and rules governing ownership, control, disposition of property and the attendant permissions are in complete accord with the existence of a religious house and the life of religious in a convent or monastery or a religious house of studies. But they manifest no concern with nor un-derstanding of professional responsibility to the public in the area of health or for academic responsibility in education. There is nothing in canon law or religious constitutions which indicates an awareness of the prob-lems of operating a nniversity or college or an under-standing of the complexities of a modern hosptial. In the beginning, religious houses functioned in a purely religious environment. How did they'gradually change so much? An historical sketch will indicate the answer to this question. Schools In virtue of her divine commission, "Go, and make disciples of all nations" (Mr 28:19), the Christian Church is essentially a teaching organization. The Church was instituted by Christ to dispense the means of salvation, for example, the sacraments, and to teach the truths necessary for salvation. These truths are spiritual and moral. To impart this essential knowledge, catechu- + menal schools were instituted. Other truths, for example, those of science, history, and so forth, that is, those ÷ ÷ of a profane or secular character, are not intrinsic to the Church's teaching program or mission. However, the profane or secular branches of knowledge were gradually worked into the curriculum and "baptized" when circumstances showed that students could acquire knowledge of them only at the cost of grave danger to their faith or morals. 780 The first schools to introduce a non-religious subject into the plan of studies were the catechetical schools. Because of the conflict between pagan philosophy and Christian truth, a Christian philosophy was developed. As a result, catechetical schools were, for the most part, institutions of higher learning. An easy step was later taken from philosophical controversy to theological controversy. ¯ The safeguarding of faith and morals, especi.ally when it concerned children, was not, in the beginning, a task of the schools but of the parents whose obligation in this regard was particularly stressed. Schools simply provided additional help for parents to meet their re-sponsibility to teach their offspring. Thus parochial and other Church-related educational institutions had their start and have developed into our present-day systems. Even prior to the existence of the catechetical school, special schooling was provided for boys wishing to join the ranks of the clergy. Such schools were attached to the residence of the bishop where the students lived and learned. In view of the purpose of these episcopal schools, as they were called, all phases of their regimen were geared to the clerical life and not to secular life for themselves or others. Similarly, monasteries originally had schools simply to train candidates for the monastic life. Monasticism in itself was a protest against the corrupt and corrupting standards of pagan living. These norms of life had be-gun to influence not only the public but also the private and domestic life of Christians. To help main-tain the ideals of Christian life, the monasteries began to take in students who were not interested in becom-ing monks. To a more limited extent the episcopal schools also adopted this extension of their program, albeit their prihaary purp6se still remained the train-ing of boys for the clerical state. The type of life these students were subjected to is ~indicated by the fact that authorities of the clerical schools in Italy were com-manded by the Council of Vaison not to deny their students the right to marry if they wished to do so when they reached maturity.1 It is hardly likely that schools in other countries differed from those in Italy. Where monastic schools educated people for either the life of the cloister or [or life in the world, they distinguished the two departments into "internal" and "external" schools respectively. What monasteries did for boys, convents did for girls. As time passed, the Catholic schools adopted more and more of the curriculum of the public schools until the program of studies in both systems covered the 1 Concilium Vasense III (A.D. 529), canon 1; Mansi, Amplissirna collectio conciliorum, t. 8, c. 726. ÷ ÷ ÷ Business A dministc a tion + + + John ]. Flanagan, $.J., and James L O'Connor, S.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS same branches of knowledge except that the Catholic schools placed special emphasis on the two subjects of religion and religious morality. Furthermore, with the passage of time, the Catholic schools were not operated' primarily for pupils who were considering taking up the clerical or the religious life but, vice versa, for those whose walks, in life would be outside the ranks of the clergy and religious. Despite the developments in the course of studies and in the purpose of schooling,2 the Catholic schools never fully developed an administrative existence di-vorced from that which governed the residences of the religious who operated the schools. Hospitals Care of the sick was a work in which Christ mani-fested great interest as is especially shown in the nu-merous miracles He performed for the sick. His interest was also shown in His command to the Apostles to heal the sick (Lk 10:9) and in His promise to those who believed in Him that they would be able to heal the sick (Mk 16:18). The Apostles, following Christ's example and com-mand, went about curing and comforting the sick (see, for example, Acts 3:2-8; 5:15-6; 14:7-9). Care of the sick is also iiaculcated in the famous passage of the Epistle of St. James (5:14-5). Wealthy Christians in the first centuries made pro-vision for care of the sick who could not be pro~cided for at the bishop's residence. Epidemics were the chief occasions for bringing out this form of charity to the neighbor. Hospitals at times grew up in connection with cathedrals. Later, under Charlemagne, every ca-thedral and every monastery was ordered to have a hospital connected with it. The funds for the support of such hospitals did not come from the priests or religious but from government sources. Because of the confiscation of these funds or diversion of them to other purposes, the hospital suffered. To offset such misuse of hospital funds, the management of hospitals was, at times, turned over to religious for their business administration. The monasteries became the dominant factor in hos-pital work in the tenth century when they combined with an infirmary for their own members a hospital a For a fuller account, see The Catholic Encyclopedia, v. 13, under the heading, "Schools"; Conrad H. Boffa, Canonical Provisions for Catholic Schools [elementary and intermediate] (Washington, D.C.: Catholic University Press, 1939), pp. 3--55; and Alexander F. Soko-lich, Canonical provisions Ior Universities and Colleges (Washington, D.C.: Catholic University Press, 1956), pp. 3-63. for externs. Collegiate churches also set up hospitals and the canons attached to the church were ordered by local councils to contribute to the maintenance of the hospital. Even though religious and diocesan clergy set up hospitals, the institutions were supported either by mu-nicipal funds or by money, land, or other means pro-vided by private individuals, Quite often control of such hospitals passed from the hands of the religious or the diocesan clergy to the municipality because of the general viewpoint that municipal authority should step in since there was question of management of institutions on which the common welfare of the public largely depended. This viewpoint was that of people from the twelfth to the sixteenth centuries. Where control of the hospital remained in the hands of religious, the ruIes for its administration were those for the administration of the religious residence as set [orth in the community's constitutions. In the United States, religious women were eventually led into hospital work because government and civilians saw and appreciated the work they did, even as un-trained helpers, on the battle field. The first step was to bring the sisters into army hospitals during the Civil War; the second was to induce them to build hospitals of their own.s Religious House All of these educational and health expansions de-veloped under the one ecclesiastical title, religious house. Regardless of the size or complexity to which they attained, the same organizational pattern was continued, namely, that for administering a religious house. Thus we find in preCode, that is, pre-1918 canonical com-mentaries that religious house and ecclesiastical founda-tion were synonymous terms and comprised "the com-plex of temporal property which was destined in perpetuity or, at least, for a long time to a religious purpose, that is, to divine worship, or, to the spiritual or temporal advantage of the neighbor and which was either set up as a legal person by authority of the Church herself or handed over to an ecclesiastical in-stitute (a religious house) already in existence either by a donation inter vivos or by last will and testament on the condition or with the stipulation of rendering religious service." Such works were distinguished from l~hilanthropic functions which "cannot be counted among ecclesiastical ~ See also The Catholic Encyclopedia, v. 7, under the heading, "Hospitals." ÷ ÷ ÷ Business Administration VOLUME 26, 1967 + ÷ ÷ John ~. Flanagan, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, S.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS foundations because they, prescind totally ~rom reli-gious purpose and are erected for public utility a'nd other natural and temporal motives and not because of the sup.ernatural motive of religious service and Chris-tian charity." 4 When revising Father Wernz's work after the pro7 mulgation of the Code of Canon Law, Father, Vidal rewrote the above section as follows: In preCode law, religious house was a generic term which, in addition to monasteries, designated all pious places erected by authority of the bishops or like prelates, for example, churches, temples, chapels, guest houses for poor pilgrims, hospitals for, the sick, orphanages for the education bf orphans 0'r of foundling bo.ys or girls. Similarly included were confra-ternities, congregations, holy mounts and other places set aside for works of charity, mercy, religious service or other pious use. A house (or place) was called religious in contradistinction to a pious house (or place), that is, one set aside for a pious or re-ligious purpose by the private determination of the faithful without authorization Of ~cclesiastical authority.~ ' The differences brought out above between the un- ~erstan. ding of the term, religious' house, in preCodg and pos.tCode times are shown more easily and clearly, perhaps, in the following comment: In pr~sent-day law, the ancient understanding of religious house-is notably limited. In the Code religious house is a teCh, nical term and signifies' nothing more that a house of some religious institute. Other ecclesiastical, works or entities, fo~ example, hospitals, orphanages, which previously were also included under the term, religious house, are now designated in the Code by the generic term, ecclesiastical institutions. The same commentator then goes on to explain more exactly just what a religious house is: , In the Code and in law in general, a house is. occasionally used in a common or material sense as the place or building.of residence. In.a more technical sense, a house is understood in ¯ law as a moral or legal person, whether collegiate or non-collegiate. In the current law on religious life, a religious house in its formal and proper sense means a religious com-munity~ namely, a moral, collegiate person which forms the lowest division or society of those persons who, by common law, are members of religious institutes. Religious house, how-ever, does not sig~i[} a community in the abstract but in the concrete inasmuch as it has a site or residence in a plade.° ~ F. X. We.rnz, s.J., lus decretalium, 2nd ed. (Rome: PolygloF P[ess, 1908), t. 3, n. 195. Translation of this and other passages from various authors cited was made by Father O'Connor. ~ F. X. Wernz, S.J., and Petrus Vidal, S.J., lus canonicum (Rome: Gregorian University Press,'1933), t. 3, n. 43. nArcadio Larraona writing in Commentarium pro religiosis, w 3 (192,2), pp. 47-8. Father La~aona, a,Claretian, later became under-secretary and, eventually, secretary of the Sacred Congregation for Religious (1943-1959); he was created cardinal in 1959 and is pres-ently Prefect of the Sacred Congregation of Rites. See also Timotheus Schaefer, O.F.M.Cap., De religiosis, 4th ed. (Vatican City: Vatican Polyglot Press, 1947), nn. 163-4. Since, as Larraona points out, religious house pri-marily means a religious community, it is not necessary that the religious own their place of residence. As a result, Larraona later writes: "In order to be considered as a religious house, it makes no difference whether the community lives in rented buildings or on a single floor of some building." And he adds in a footnote: "None of these factors prevents it from being a really true religious house; as a result, it must be treated as such." z There is a special case in the Code, namely, in canon 514, § 1,s where religious house is used in a far brohder sense but in this instance there is no ques-tion of business administration; it concerns purely spir-itual care.~ While, technically, the term, religious house, was notably narrowed from its preCode interpretation, nevertheless, because of the definition given in canon 1497, § 1 to ecclesiastical property and because of the provision of canon 532, § l?° the work of religious institutes in education and health services has been developed, even in modern times, under the pattern of religious government. Consequently, many inconsist-ent and unwieldy situations have developed. Working under a system which was by its nature limited to the government of a religious house, re-ligious orders and congregations have undertaken the ownership and management of universities with schools of medicine, law, dentistry, engineering, liberal arts, teacher education, as well as schools of philosophy and theology. Religious congregations of women and men have carried the ahnost complete responsibility of the Cath-olic hospital system. Over ninety percent of the person-nel involved in carrying out these commitments are lay people who are in no way committed to the way of life of religious subjects. Notwithstanding this fact, their functioning, their growth and development, and their compensation are affected by the spirit and letter of a system primarily intended to govern the lives of re-ligious. The hospital situation finds an almost perfect paral- ~ Commentarium pro religiosis, v. 6 0925), p. 15, II, and footnote (408). ~ In every clerical institute the superiors have the right and duty to administer, either personally or by delegate, the Holy Viaticum and Extreme Unction, in case of sickness, to the professed members, to the novices, and to other persons dwelling day and night in the religious house by reason of service, education, hospitality, or health. ~ Commentarium pro religiosis, v. 9 (1928), p. 104. ~o The property of the institute, of the province, and of the house is to be administered conformably to the constitutions. ÷ + + Business Administration + 4, John I. Flanagan, S.l., and James I. O'Connor, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 786 lel on the. college and university levels of education and, in a far less degree, on the lower educational level~. The spirit of canon law and ~f the constitutions of religious congregations and orders' was conceived to foster a way of life which led to personal sanctification of religious as individuals and as a group. It was never intended to develop those people professionally or to control the growth and development of institutions which have a public responsibility in education and health, The financing of these endeavors has involved com-plex and basically secular activities which have been subjected to rules, policies, and restrictions formulated solely to govern finances of a religious house, that is, a residence or training center for religious as religious. Permissions, personal and corporate, appropriate within the religious institute,xt are completely incompatible with the intelligent, well-administered financing of, higher education and, for example, the management of a twenty million dollar ($20,000,000)health complex. These activities relate to the development of a service to the public and not to the welfare of a religious house. In mbst instances, the necessary financial support must be obtained from the public, in some cases from the government itself, whether.local, state, or f~deral, with an explicit or, at least, an implicit commitment to serve the public. Even when contributions come from private sources, such as well-to-do benefactors or business enterprises, the money is given not to the religious community as religious but to promote the public service the religious are engaged in, for example, education, health care. This view of contributions to religious institutions rendering a public service is brought out in the practical order by two actual cases which came to .the second author's attention in the last few months. One case involved a Catholic hospital, the other a Catholic col-lege. Each was operated by a different sisterhood. In the case of the hospital, the. sisters decided to close the hospital and sell all its property for what they could.get. Somehow word of the plan reached the capitol of the State in which the hospital was located. The sisters were notified that the only money they could take out of the sale price was what they could prove ~hey had contributed from the community to the hospital. Since all other moneys or their equivalent were giv,en ~ Even as regards financial administration o[ religious property in the narrow sense o[ the term, updating o[ canon law is needed. See Charles J. Ritty, "Changing Economy and the New Code of Canon Law," Jurist, v. 26 (1966), pp. 469-8't. to conduct the hospital as, a public: service, all money derived'from the sale after deducting money the re-ligidus community .could prove it contributed had to be turned over to the State. for disbursement to other health facilities for the public. In the case of the .college,. a like decision regarding closing and sale was arrived .at by the sisters. In this instance also, word of the plan reached the State capito,1. Similarly the sisters were notified that a!! they could take, from the sale. price was what they. could prove they had :contributed. Moreover, the only persons to whom' they could sell the institution were either an-other educational organization which would take over. the operation of the college or the State itself which would then take steps for the continued operation of the college. In both cases, through a 'belief that the sisters would never see the day when they would have to surrender the institution or through an oversight on the part of the civil lawyer consulted in setting up the charte~ of incorporation, there was no provision in either cha.rter~ for th6 dissolution of the corporation. If the articles of incorporation had provided that, in ,.the event of dissolution 'of the hospital or college corporation, the net assets, namely, after payment of bills and after de-ducting the proved contribution by the religious com-munity, were to be transferred to another health care or educational facility, .respectively, within the same sisterhood or, in the event that the religious institute had no other health care or educational facility, then to a like facility within the diocese and, if possible, in the same city or geographical area, there would, we are informed by civil lawyers, have been no problem with the respective State governments. While, very often, religious communities have con-tributed sums of money which are quite large in them-selves, such financial support is relatively small when the total financial picture is brought into focus. There are even instances where not one cent of the invest-ment in buildings and equipment has come from the religious community. And yet the institution is classi-fied as ecclesiastical property because it is incorporated in the name of the religious community. As religious institutions have become more and more involved in semipublic responsibilities, an increasing number of incompatible situations have been encoun-tered. One of the first noticeable situations was the manner of operating schools of nursing and boarding, schools. Having extended to them the aegis of the religious house and the authority of the religious superior, there + ÷ ÷ Business A dmin~tration VOLUME 26, 1967 787~ John J. Flanagan, S.]., and .lames L O'Connor, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS was. a natural tendency to impose upon the young stu-dents a manner of living suitable to young religious. Through a failure by both ~he religious themselves and by many of the laity to distinguish between money and property acquired and administered for public service and that which pertains to the religious com-munity as a religious community, a number of erroneous conclusions have been drawn by both groups. Here are some examples: The question of corporate poverty and its relation-ship to personal poverty is a matter of great concern to religious superiors, to Church officials, and to mem-bers of the laity. Today's arrangement with large institu-tional holdings and operating budgets is misunderstood by some members of the laity who see a concentration of too much ownership and financial consciousness in or-ganizations whose members publicly and officially profess personal poverty. The affluence of some institutions may affect the personal lives and practices of the members of the re-ligious congregation or order. On the other hand, in terms of professional academic needs of Catholic hos-pitals and educational institutions, the resources in facilities and finances are woefully inadequatK If re-ligious are to discharge their obligations to the public, the needs of Catholic institutions of learning and health care cannot be governed by policies primarily con-cerned with fostering the spirit of poverty in a re-ligious community. The mingling of funds of a pro~essional institution with the funds of the religious institute compounds the problem. In the past, the using of funds generated by the professional institution to construct chapels and colleges primarily for the benefit of the religious com-munity has intensified the issue as can be so well per-ceived in this post-Vatican II period. The legitimate concern of government and the general public to make money available to an institution for comprehensive civic service, when that institution has ambivalent objectives, is harming both the service to the civic community and the credible image of the given religious order or congregation. As the problems facing Catholic institutions today are studied, there is no need to think that Church-related and Church-influenced institutions should be surrendered to secular thinking or to management devoid of religious and moral in-fluence. In a pluralistic society, the Church-related in-stitution has much to offer and the American educational system and the health care system of the country would be seriously short-changed without them. There are various remedies for curing the indicated ills affecting Catholic educational and health care in-stitutions. None of the suggested remedies is a panacea. Ifi some instances the burden will not be removed but only made lighter. In other cases, the existing malady may be totally cured but the cure itself may generate side effects which, however, may be borne with, greater ease than the original ailment. Furthermore, in many instances authorization will be required from the Holy S~'e before the proposed mode of action can be legit-imately adopted. It should be obvious that the sug-gestions made here do not exhaust all possibilities for coping with tlie undesirable situations. As shown earlier in this article the term, religious house,~ has been narrowed very much in its meaning from that it had in preCode ~law, All that is necessary, then, as regards this term is to make sure it is under-stood in its postCode sense as pointed out above by Larraona. The term, ecclesiastical property (canon 1497, § 1), ought, it seems, to be redefined in the light of present-day s{tuations and worded somewhat as follows: Ecclesiastical property comprises 'only those temporal goods, both corpo~eal,whether movable or immovable, and incor-poreal which belong to the Church universal, or to the Apos-tolic See, 'or to any other ecclesiastical moral person in the Church and which directly and primarily service the ecclesias-tical moral person and do not primarily service the good of the general public. If this or similar wording were adopted by the com-mission f6r the revision of the Code of Canon Law, ecclesiastical property as concerns religious wouId be restricted to religious houses in the strict sense of the term, namely, residences of religious (including pro-vincialate and generalate residences), houses of forma-tion, community infirmaries, community cemeteries, community villas, community farms or lands, and shch like properties. Not .included would be all properties primarily .and directly serving the general public, for example, hospitals of any classification, orphanages, schools on all levels of education for the general public. The business administration of these latter institu-tions would be conducted according to the law and practice of the country, state, or civil province pertinent to like facilities whose officers and staff are all lay persons. Proposed also for consideration is the question whether the educational or health facility should be incorporated as a civil corporation totally distinct from the civil corporation composed of the religious house, province;, or,,institute: If the institution were incorpo-rated as an entity separate and distinct from. the re-÷ ÷ 4- Business Administration VOLUME :26, 1967 John I. Flanagan, S.l., and James L O'Connor, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ligious community, several great advantages would follow. 1. The institution would not be part of the religious community. As a result, it would not be ecclesiastical property. The further consequence would be that in its business management, it would not be governed by the canon law of business administr.ation. It would be managed completely and solely by the law and practice of the civil jurisdiction in which it is located and in-corporated. In the existing situation, there is the anomaly that an institution which derives its legal ex-istence from the State and, in the case of educational institutions, derives its power to issue diplomas, grant degrees, and so forth from the State and not from the Church, should, nevertheless, be classified as ecclesi-astical property because it is owned by a religious house. This proposed solution of a problem rendered ex-tremely difficult in practice by th~ canonical definition of ecclesiastical property is applicable only as regards the future legal erection of institutions. Since hereto-fore all institutions were .listed as owned by the re-ligious community, they thereby became ecclesiastical fixed or stable capital property. As such, they are sub-ject to all the canonical prescriptions and limitations for such property. Consequently, from a canonical view-point, in order to set up the institution as a separate corporation which is not part of the religious corpora-tion, the more obvious procedure is to request an indult of alienation from competent ecclesiastical authority since the religious corporation is divorcing itself com-pletely from the ownership--such as it was---of the property whictt is the institution's. In seeking such an indult, in addition to the other requirements, it is. of paramount importance that the reasons for the re-quest be carefully and strongly expressed. Many such reasons are presented in this section of this study. "A less obvious method of providing for the separate incorporation is to deduct from the next quinquennial report on the financial administration of the total in-stitute the value of all property which has been pre-viously reported as ecclesiastical property but which has in fact been providing a public service facility, for example, school, hospital. An explanation, of course, must be given for the deduction. It can be modeled on that given in the case of two hospitals where this latter procedure was followed. Additional reasons, such as those proposed here, can and perhaps should be used to strengthen the case. In both cases the sisters had reported the hospitals as ecclesiastical property in two previous quinquennial reports to Rome. After the second such report, the sisters found out that they had to administer the hos-pital property completely in accord with the civil law of the States in which the hospitals" were located. Such a method of administration, for example, authority of the individual members of the governing board, use funds, and so forth, seriously conflicted with the canon law for the temporal administration of a religious house. As a result, on the third quinquennial report, the sisters deducted from the previously reported ec-clesiastical property the amount of the two hospitals. In so doing, they advised the Sacred Congregation for Religious that they (the sisters) no longer considered the hospitals as ecclesiastical property but only as secular property since it was impossible to conduct the temporal administration of the institutions in accord with canon law. In the acknowledgment of the report by the Sacred Congregation for .Religious, no word of objection or criticism was made on the reported change of classification of the hospital properties nor was any indication given that the sisters needed an indult of alienation for the two cases. This approach to a heretofore very difficult case may be viewed by the Sacred Congregation for Religious as canonists have viewed a somewhat similar instance, namely, if religious are in any way compelled by the State to sell or otherwise alienate part or all of their capital property, such alienation is not subject to the canonical prescriptions concerning alienation. An ex-ample is had where the State obliges religious to sur-render part of their property to provide a right of way for constructi6n of a road.lg 2, In the event of separate incorporation of the in-stitution, question 90 (78) of the formula for the quinquennial report (Q. R.) by religious institutes would, of course, be applicable: In cases where works which are not the property of the house, such as clerical or religious residence halls, hospitals, churches, and so forth, are entrusted to the religious house, are these properties kept clearly distinct from those which be-long to the religious house itself? = Observance of this requirement would remove the problem arising from the commingling of institutional funds with those of the religious house as such. 3. An unhealthy identification of the institution with = See Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., R~wzw Fog RELIGIOUS, V. 19 (1960), p. 51, n. 3. =The open number refers to the formula for institutes of pon-tifical law; the number in parentheses refers to the same question in the diocesan law formula. See T. Lincoln Bouscaren, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, S.J., Canon Law Digest lor Religious, v. 1 (Mil-waukee: Bruce, 1964), pp. 227-73. 4. 4. 4. Business Administration VOLUME 26, 1967 791 ÷ John J. Flanagan~ $.J., and lames !. O'Connor~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the religious and o[ the religious with the institutio)a would be destroyed with great advantages for the re-ligious. To indicate some of them: (a) Institutional assets and debts would not be identi-fied as possegsed by the local religious community. As things are today, there is no distinction in financial reports to State or other agencies or to the general public between the assets and debts of the ins.titution as such and those of the religiouS' who operate it. Because of the identity of religious with the institu-tion, the financial statement, when issued, is unsler-stood as a statement of the finances or their equivalent possessed by the religious community. ~ (b) The above erroneous conclusion, occasioned, how-ever, by the prevailing practice and common c~anonical understanding, in turn, leads to confusion in the minds of outsiders, Catholics as well as non-Catholics, who cannot reconcile personal poverty with corporate wealth. If separate incorporation were effected, the financial report is that of the institution alone and independent of that of the religious community which administers it. In view of past history, it may well take some time for the realization of this divorce to sink into the minds of outsiders. In itself, it is no more difficult a concept than distinguishing the assets and liabilities, for example, of Harvard University from those of the members of the board of trustees and the faculty, of the university. The problem is had relative to C~ttholic institutions because of the mutual identity of institu-tion with religious community and of religious com-munity with the institution. That identity iso not had between Harvard University and its trustees and faculty. (c) Conversely, the religious themselves would be disabused of the notion that, though personally poor, their community is very well of[. More or less suddenly it would dawn on them that both they personally and their community as such are poor. (d) Allied to advantages (b) and (c) is that of ~iving credit where credit is due. This pertains to both the public and the religious community. By far most of the financial support of the facility comes from the public in one way or another. The public should be given credit for this support and the financial statement ought to reflect this fact. If, as is usually the case, the.religious community also con-tributes to the financial maintenance of the institution, this act by them ought also to appear on the financial report. Its appearance there will help. to bring out their personal and communal involvemer~t in the needs ~and interests of the public good in a very concrete manner. ~.Vhile it is true that this appreciation of the common-weal is manifested in their administration and working in the institution, this fact can be overlooked or can lack appreciation by the public because the religious can be classified just like any outside administrator, nurse, or teacher, namely, it is simply a job for which their services have been engaged. Furthermore, by donating a substantial amount of money to the support of the institution, the common impression that somehow the school or hospital is con-ducted for the monetary benefit of the religious order or congTegation can be effectively dissipated. Moreover, such a contribution is a way of discharg-ing the wish of Vatican II in its decree concerning religious where it is set down that: "Let them [re-ligious] willingly contribute something from their own resources., to the support of the poor, whom reli-gious should love with the tenderness of Christ." 14 (e) Separate incorporation with its financial conse-quences for the religious community would enable the community to implement another of Vatican II's pro-visions in the same decree: Depending on the circumstances of their location, communi-ties as such should aim at giving a kind of corporate witness to their own poverty . To the degree that their rules and constitutions permit, re-ligious communities can rightly possess whatever is necessary for their temporal life and their mission. Still, let them avoid every appearance of luxury, excessive wealth, and accumulation of possessions.1~ Relative to the point of financial contributions by the religious community to educational institutions, a change will be necessary in the common current practice of simply making book entries of what is frequently, if not always, referred to as "living endowment." In this procedure no actual transfer of money, namely, by check, is made to the religious community for the services rendered to the school by the individual re-ligious. Further, a certain amount of cash is deducted from the cash receipts of the institution for the main-tenance of the religious community, for example, food, clothing, health, contributions to province or/and generalate support, and so forth. This procedure can lead to questioning by outsiders: Are the religious ac-tually claiming as equivalent salaries, salaries which are actually higher than those paid to lay persons in like positions? Is the religious community, in some sense, deriving double indemnity, namely, a cash indemnity "Quoted from The Documents o[ Vatican 11, ed. Walter M. Abbott, S.J. (New York: America Press, 1966), pp. 475-6. ~a Ibid. 4- 4- ÷ Business Administration VOLUME 26, 1967 ÷ ÷ John J. Flanagan, S.I., lames I. O'Connor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS .794 through the amount deducted :for living expenses and a second indemnity in the form of a stated "living endowment" made to the school? Separate incorporation would also help in this area since the fi.nances of the school would be totally dis-tinct and distinguishable from those of the religious, community. Moreover, the school would issue checks to the religious just as it does to the ngn-religious members of the administrative and teaching staffs. Thus a.ny and all questions concerning the salary scale of the religibus personnel in comparison with that of other personnel could and should be easily answered. It would banish the idea or confusion, where had, that the re-ligious are receiving more than they should, whether that amount .equal double indemnity or less than that amount. Furthermore, any questioning or criticism of contri-butions. by the local religious community to the n~eds of the province or to the generalate or to any worthy cause outside the re.ligious institute would be stopped since all such contributions would now come out of the sum resulting from the salary checks to the local religious community. ¯ This method of explicit transfer of cash in the form of check for services rendered by individual religious to the institution .they staff is not in itself a new idea, It has been in effect in the Catholic hospital field for a number of years. It was brought about through pressure from outside agencies who refused to accept as identifiable operati~Jnal costs mere book entries without any actual transfer of cash. Moreover, it forced the religious community to be honest in its assignment of salaries for sisters. In some instances in the past there were cases where full salaries were set down for aged or for more-or-less incapacitated sisters who rendered absolutely no or very little health care service to the patients. Furthermore, this procedure of actual transfer of salary money produced a true picture of the actual operational costs'of the hospital and, thereby, gave it a just comparison with all other hospitals in the area 'not under Cath61ic auspices. It also disabused the public of the false notion that the religious need no or ex-tremely little mone~; for their own support and educa-tion, both as individuals and as a community. There is no reason why like benefits should not ac-crue also to religious ~engaged in the educational field. At least one religious teaching institute has already adopted this compensation procedure. It goes without saying that if checks are issued to individual religious, this action does not dispense them from the obligations of common life and those of their vow of poverty. All such compensation belongs actually to the religious community (c, 580, § 2). To avoid income tax.problems, it should be shown that the individual religious, because of his (her) vow of poverty, is simply a conduit from the institution to the religious community to which the money ac-tually goes and belongs. Another device to achieve the same purpose is a single check issued in the name of the local religious community and accompanied by a statement listing the names and amounts for each re-ligious on the institutional staff. Another phase of the business management of Catho-lic institutions concerns the intrqduction of lay trustees, lay.~ administrators, lay vice-presidents, or even a lay president. Use of lay people in positions of administra-tion of Catholic institutions is not, a new concept in the Church. It was set down for consideration as long ago as 1947 in question 94 (82), sections a) and b) of the quinquennial report formula: Wbr6 all the persons to whom ~e administration or manage-ment o~ property is entrusted, chosen with due care, after making all the previous investigations which were necessary or useful? Were the members of the institute itself given the preference over' outsiders for offices of administration, whenever this could prudently be done without loss? The actual as well as the potential role of lay people in ecclesiastical organizations and institutions was strong!~ emphasized by Vatican II. How to use lay persons in business management of Church-related in-stitutions is not an easy question to answer in view of current canon law.16 If the .suggestion of separate civil incorporation of the educational or health care facility is combined with that of introducing lay persons onto the board of trustees, the issue of alienation of the facility comes up for serious thought. Since all or nearly all existing Catholic schools, hospitals, and so forth serving the general public have heretofore been included in the quinquen-nial report as ecclesiastical property, they may not simply be omitted from the next such report without a manifestati6n of how they ceased to be ecclesiastical property.17 Some suggestions on how to handle this matter have been given above. When considering the possibility of complete separa-tion of Catholic institutions and the introduction of lay trustees and other lay officers of administration, In See James I. O'Connor, S.J., "Investing Administrating Au-thority," Hospital Progress, v. 46 (June, 1965), pp. 66-74, 79. See Q.R., 101-2 (88-9). Businesi Administration VOLUME 26, 1967 795: there is need to consider the values at stake. The value which has most influenced religious in the past is the guaranteed control of course content and practices which have religious and moral values. These are values which deal with the preservation of faith and moral practices. The values themselves are of essential im-portance and meaning to the Church and Christian life. They are values also through which religious wish to influence all aspects of American life.18 Christian lay men and lay women cherish these values as much as do priests and religious. The question is whether administrative control by religious is any longer the best or necessary mechanism to preserve and spread these values. Religious expect the Christian banker, manufacturer, and professional man to function according to Christian principles but they do not attempt to exercise an administrative con-trol over his activities. One of the objectives of Catholic education has been to develop Christian leaders. As these leaders emerge, should they not share with religious the responsibility of policy-making and management of Catholic institu-tions? It is important today that everything be done to strengthen religious houses and religious life. It is equally important that Catholic educational and health care institutions be permitted to reach full use-fulness in their respective spheres. The challenge fac-ing religious is to organize themselves in such a manner that these two objectives may be reached as effectively and as quickly as possible. x~Well worth reading relative to the educational apostolate are: "The New Catholic College" by Nell G. McCluskey, s.J., America, v. 116 (March 25, 1967), pp. 414-7; and " 'Laicization' of Catholic Collegcs" by Andrew Greeley, Christian Century, v. 82 (March 22, 1967), pp. 372-5. 4. + John J. Fianagan, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ANDRE AUW, c.P. An Attitude towards Community So much has been written on community that we are almost tired of the word. And yet we must continue to explore together the reality of community and to share together our common and separate failures in creating community. For it seems that we have never been more conscious of our need for community, and at the same time we have never felt more helpless in bringing it about. As one publication put it, during the past Christ-mas season: "This Christmas, too, we must celebrate the failure of community." We find ourselves rather confused, for many of our best efforts have not only failed to produce greater to-getherness, but have, in fact, produced greater isolation. Dialogue, intended to unify, has been, in many in-stances divisive. Liturgical renewal which was to serve as a bond of closer unity has all too often been a separat-ing factor. This is disturbing, because both dialogue and a meaningful liturgy must be at the very center of any structural renewal in religious life. Perhaps we have oversimplified the problem of com-munity. It is a very delicate and intricate problem and thus a problem for which there cannot be ready or easy answers. Community involves not only interper-sonal relationships but also superior-subject relation-ships. Past traditions and training affect it, as do current tides of }enewal. Commonality and differences of per-sonality, interest, needs, and work have to be considered. Other elements include such things as the size of the group, whether they work together as well as live to-gether, and how homelike is the atmosphere of their re-ligious houses. The list could be expanded considerably. Its purpose is merely to highlight the multifaceted char-acter of.the problem, so that we do not expect answers which are too ready or too easy. With this in mind, I would like to select one aspect of the problem of commuriity which might serve as a basis Andre Auw, C.P., writes ~rom 700 North Sunnyside Avenue; Sierra Ma-dre, California 91024. ~ ~' VOLUME 26, 1967 FOR 798 for a deeper study of the entire problem. I refer to a cer-tain "attitude" towards community which is an essen-tial first step towards the ultimate realization of an ex-perienced sense of community. A Sense ol Community Before discussing the elements that comprise this at-titude, let me describe in a general way what I mean by the term "community" as something experienced. Com-munity is, first of all, an experience of belonging, of feeling at home with people who need you and who know that you also need them. It is a liberating ex-perience, the freeing awareness that you can discard some of your masks with people whose primary concern is your welfare and with whom you can really relax. Community is a reassuring experience, which gives you the security of knowing that people are able to accept you even though they do not fully understand you; that they recognize your weaknesses without ever wanting to use this knowledge as a weapon against you. And if community is to be truly Christian, it must also be a joyful experience, the quietly joyful experience of being able to receive as well as to give Christian love. The sadness of non-community is the sadness of Christ not experienced. For when Christians discover the art of living together in community, when a new community is formed or an old community is formed anew, it is Christ who is born anew, made present in an incarnational manner, and who grows to maturity in the membe~:s. It is Christ's life which is shared and Christ's love which is experienced when community is experienced. However, growth from within presumes nourishment and care from without. The climate for growth must be right. Similarly, the climate for community, the attitude of the members towards community, must be right. The following remarks may serve as a background for a better understanding of a helpful attitude t,owards com-munity. Desire for Community A helpful attitude towards community contains many elements. One of these is a desire for community. This seems so obvious, and yet, existentially, it cannot be pre-sumed. Community as we have just described it involves a much deeper form of relating to one another than most religious have been accustomed to in the past. It de-mands greater openness; it pulls us more immediately and more personally into the lives of each other. This is not always understood or accepted as a positive value by religious who have been trained to regard close relation-ships as dangerous and openness as a quality reserved for dealings with one's confessor or spiritual director. For these religious, community can appear very threatening, and thus they have little, if any, desire for it. How to bring such religious to the experience of com-munity is in itself a very challenging and difficult ques-tion but is not the primary focus of this article. Later remarks may help to cast some light in this area of shadows, but the importance of its consideration as an element in the formation of a helpful attitude toward community is that we cannot presume at the outset that everyone in a religious group desires community. If the desire for community is there, we can build on that foundation, but we must determine this first. Sensitivity When the desire for community is present, another element must be considered, and that is a sensitivity towards the needs and feelings of others. This is very important, because community is a rather fragile thing in the beginning. It can never be forced or engineered. It is not the end product of any series of things-to-be-done, but rather the emergent of many adventures in interpersonal sharing. Many attempts at creating com-munity have ~ailed because they were based on the false premise that if enough things-to-be-done-together could be devised, a sense of togetherness would be the result. Doing things together is, of course, a part of the sharing necessary for community, but this can never be financed at the cost of real personal needs and feelings of the in-dividual members. Togetherness and community are not ends in themselves. This means that no matter how objectively good a project or activity might appear to be, if a large por-tion of the religious find it uncomfortable or distasteful, it should not be pursued. An evident application is in the area of the' liturgy. Most adult religious are willing to try out new liturgical practices which might render the act of worship more meaningful. But at the same time, as adults, they demand that the new liturgical expression be authentic for them. That which is authentic for a college student might not be meaningful for his teacher. A heightened sensitivity for the needs and feelings of others in such a situation could lead toward the dis-covery of some other and more personally communica-tive liturgical expression, Among other things, sensitivity brings to open aware-ness the strength level of the group. It helps us to make better use of appropriate timing in our dealings with one another and to gain a certain proficiency in detect-ing the prevailing emotional temperature of the indi-viduals as well as of the group. Sensitivity makes pru-÷ ÷ ÷ Community VOLUME 26, 1967 '/99 Andre Auw, C.P. REVIEW FOR REL[('qOUS 800 dence a living force in community'relationships,,iand thus it enables, love to grow, as it turns our ~attention, in a beautiful spirit of .listening, to the needs of othe~rs, rather than to our own. Love is an outgoing and out-pouring process, and these qualities increase as our sen-sitivity for others deepens. Sensitivity .must, in turn, be rooted in another ele~ ment which makes for a. healthy attitude toward com-munity, and that is reverence. Reverence is a deep, sacred respect for theperson. It sees in the person, a unique mirroring of God Himself, and bows down before this uniqueness. Community is experienced whe~ the uniqueness of each person, the singularly beautiful in-carnation of Christ in each of us, is shared, one with another. In fact, it is only our uniqueness that makes the unity of community possible, the integration and inter-weaving of disparate reflections into the one-prismed splendor.~ Unfortunately, something of the richness of the per-son has been lost through the years in our accent on the common life. A juridical approach to community led, historically, to a distorted concept of the commonness of the common life. An effort was made to rub out die lines of distinction so that there would be a kind of qniformity among religious. But what began, with a good inten-tion gradually developed into an aberration. The com-mon life was reduced more to the. level of a life of com-monness, Recreation, for example, became more of a devotion to rule than a time of personal re-creating. "Being there" became the prime concern, since this was a literal "fulfillment of the law," ~and a religiou.s was, very, often, harshly criticized for not being, or not want-ing to be, at recreation. The n, eeds of the person were not always considered under this heavily juridical stress on the commonality of the religious life. Community must not be so perverted. Any attempt to reduce these elements of the religious life to the lowest common denominator will also rob the individuals of the basic distinctions that they must retain and main-tain in order to create community, A fundamental rev-erence for the needs of the person must underline all community demands. Some peoplb need more group in, terraction than others; some need less. Reverence for one another recognizes these differences and respects them as sacred. If I, at times, must withdraw from the group, it does not necessarily imply that I am unwilling to share with them. It may simply mean that at the moment I am psychologically incapable of it. On the other hand, there will be times when, by the very demands of love, I will forego the satisfaction of my needs in order to meet the needs of others, even at great personal cost. But this is a decision which I must make, and for which I alone am responsible before God. The community, in a spirit of reverence, will respect this decision, communicating their acceptance of my many moods as well as of my community contributions. Love Relationships Another element that is involved in a helpful atti-tude toward community is our understanding of love relationships. We must bear in mind that love relation-ships exist on many different levels. The main levels are those of husband and wife, of parent and child, of friend and friend. But in addition there are those brief but nevertheless genuine encounters with others who may have b(en acquaintances or even strangers and who bring to us love in the form of a gift or of shared con-cern or valuable insights. Each level of love has its own beauty and its own par-ticular norms. The love of a man for his neighbor is no less sacred because it lacks something of the richer di-mension of the love he shares with his wife. These loves are simply different. This distinction has application in. the religious life, for many religious are not really very secure in the knowledge of just what kinds Of love relationships are permissible for them or appropriate for them. Some be-lieve that the only level of relating that would be ap-propriate would be a relationship marked by kindness and consid6ration but.also protected by a thick insula-tion of what is termed, psychologically, as "distance." This kind of relating is in itself good and helpful; but it is by no means adequate for a religious, espe-cially a celibate religious. For such a man or woman, deep and warm relationships as friends, are absolutely necessary. It is ironic that the greatest aid in enabling celibates to remain celibate has been for so long con-sidered celibacy's greatest enemy. Today we recognize rich human love between men and men, between women and women,°and between men and women, a love that is outgoing and selfless, a love that makes us experience our dignity and worth as persons, that makes us feel needed and wanted and lovable--this, too, is a level of love which is open to us as religious. And, in fact, it is only this~ kind of love that will enable us to grow to ma-ture fulfillment as persons. It goes without saying that such love relationships do contain a possible threat of overinvolvement, just as parenthood always contains the danger of overposses-siveness or domination. But this is abuse, and as such, Community 801 'something .to be.considered but not to be made the focal poini ~of examination. As we understand ourselves and the nature Of these love relationships, we should also grow more mature in dealing with them. A great deal of overinvolvement has beeninduced by an adolescent understanding of love relationships and bY a preoccu-pation with the fear of uncontrolled emotion. Love relationships in the religious life will vary. The rich I-Thou relationships of close friends are as r~re as they 'are beautiful. More often there will be elements a. kind o[' neighlSor~neighbor relationship :interwoven wi~h parent-child, friend,friend, and yet alwa.ys marked by a warmth that,is as Christian ag it is human, a warmth that slieaks from ,heart to heart. Our understanding of the ,varieties of. love's expres-sion as' well as the' different levels of~love relationships is 'a very important, element in the formation, of,a~healthy and helpful:.attitude,towards community. Fo~,it will be principal!~t through these love relationships that the ex-perience of community will. be shared with the individ-uals in the group. ~he Size o[ the C'o'mmunity One final factor which should be considered, although it is in.a different category from the previous elements, is the size of the .community:~ Our attitude toward the size of'the group will: affect our ability to develop a sense~ of community., 0 This has particular.meaningS for religious~who live in ¯large convents' br monasteries. The question arises: "Is it possible to have a genuine sense of community.in such large groupings of'~religious?'' Experience seems to an, swer~ in the negative; and rather than frustrate ourselves further in trying to create community in these~ large gatherings, we might think creatively~ towards, other so-lutions . dPsychologists, specializin~ in group dynamics, are un-animous, in their opinion that. the experience of com-munity is almost impossible in large groups. They pre-fer smaller cell groups of from six to eight people~ And ~ven in Sensitivity and Basic Encounter Groups, the fire" "community" of :these°smaller groups is'. seldom more than forty. But~!the principal work of ~ommunity + is achieved in the smaller gatherings.: '÷ ~ ,A number of seminaries in Europe and a fe~, in this + country have been experimenting with a sim'il~r ~concept of community. The larger community, is broke'n down .4~Ire.~luw, ~.t'. into 'sinaller."families" of seminarians clustered a~ound a~v~w ~0~ one 15riest. Most of _~the formation program is handled ~u~0us by these smaller, groups in dialogue, rather than inqec- 802 ~ture forin, as previously was done., . , Also,. on the parish, level, a number of experim, ents are going on in the inner city sections of our ,larger ~cities, using the same principle of smaller groups, formed along the lines of their common interests, and:a common desire to share together. ' This is the type of "new community" which Father Andrew Greeley refers to in a recent article. We find here a pattern which may well fit the frame of religious life. Is it not possible that the formation of smaller subgroups could be fostered within a large com-munity? At one time such a notion would have been considered anti-community. But psychology .and experi-ence both indicate that most likely the only way the entire community is going to be brought to a genuine ex-perience, of community is through the formation-of smaller subgroups, which in turn could act a.s real. leav-ening agents for the whole group. Again, there is always the possibility of sma.ller grgups turning into cliques which ingest j upon themselyes, and every~ prudent means must be taken to preclude this .eventuality. However, cliques more often than not are formed ~by people who feel rejected by the community and use these devices as means to strike back at a group they .feel: is basically unloving and non-accepting. The greatest reason for the community to give its in~- dividual ,and. collective blessing to the formation of smaller groups is that only when the individuals can open themselves up to the experience, of shared love in a smaller group will they be able to relate in a more loving way to the. community-at-large. For religious living in smaller houses, the problem is slightly different. Where there are only from five to ten religious living together, it. is hard to, have smaller sub-groups, yet even the recognition of smaller grouping as a valuable thing and the understanding of friendship as integral to a community can be of great help. But for these smaller houses, is it not possible to project the ideal of religious selecting the houses or the groupings to whichthey would feel best suited? Some communities of sisters are already experimenting with this plan. The complications are as obvious as they are numerous, and for many superiors they would be too great to imple-ment. However, it is a factor that must not be brushed aside lightly. The Church in every line of its function-ing is moving into greater dimensions of ecclesial ac-tion. Team work is becoming the hallmark of our apos-tolic activities; and team work, to be effective, presumes a gathering together of people who can and who want to work together. More and more we are beginning to appreciate the value of small groups. As our appreciation of this value ¯ Community ~ ~ ¯ VOLUME 26, 1967 :803 becomes an extended application to our religious com-munities, so our attitude towards the creation of com-munity will be increasingly helpful. Small groups are not magic gatherings. It is simply that a person can experi-ence the warmth of love better in a smaller room. Large buildings are both easy to get lost in, and impossible to heat, and too many religious, for too long, have re-mained lost, hidden, and cold, within our Christian communities. Conclusion These, then, are the elements which comprise an at-titude which is conducive to creating the experience of community: a desire for community, an increased sen-sitivity for the needs and feelings of others, a reverence for the uniqueness of persons, and an understanding of the different levels of love relationships. Finally, in the practical working-out-of-things, there is the considera-tion of the size of the group. For many these reflections will be repetitious, for some they may appear novel, and for others they may even seem rather frightening. But for all of us, they can serve as an opportunity to take a good hard look at our own attitude towards community. And hopefully our looking would lead to some kind of action. Because even talking about community is no longer good enough. We must be brave enough to risk new ventures in commu-nity and to experiment with new structures. The secular city and the inner city with their maelstrom of an-guished problems cannot wait much longer for us to dis-cover the meaning and experience of community. These people need us united in love so that we can communicate to them Christ's all embracing love and draw them into the circle of His family, of His com-munity. But none of this can be accomplished until we know, by experience, the reality of community. There is, in the very air around us, a note of urgency. We need community. We need it desperately. And we need it now. Andre Auw, C.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 804 GARY F. GREIF, S.J. The Vows and Christian t fe The life of the vows, as a form of Christian life, pre-sents special problems today for understanding. It has always been clear that this is merely one of the forms of Christian life and that the other forms are equally valid. Nevertheless, the life of the vows has been pro-posed traditionally as something special in Christian life; and 'for this reason its adoption has been said to demand a special call from God. As not everyone, is called to live this form of Christian lif~, not everyone can be expected to live it; and besides, there are other forms of ChriStian life. And if these are not as exalted as the life of the vows, they are just as valid. This is the traditional view. But today one can clearly sense severe doubts about this position, if not complete repudiation of its central thesis. It may be granted that not everyone is called .to live with vows; but it may also be asked whether anyone should live such a life, and therefore whether, in our day, such a call may not be a passing reality, to be perpetuated only through delusion. This sceptical attitude stems partly from a growing awareness of the dignified role of the layman in Chris-tian life, and as well from an understanding of human life which seems to render traditional arguments for the perfection of the vows fallacious. If the layman is not simply to await the nod from ecclesiastical authority before taking initiative in the Christian community for its welfare but is to act responsibly according to the legitimate inspirations he receives from the Holy Spirit, then leadership in the Christian community does not be-long exclusively to a privileged class,x Every Christian 1 See ~iatican II, Lumen gentium (Dogmatic Constitution on the Church), The Documents of Vatican II, ed. Walter ~M. Abbott, s.J. (New York: America Press, 1966), p. 30: %. [the Holy Spirit] dis-tributes special graces among the faithful of every rank. By these gifts He makes them fit and ready to undertake the various tasks or offices advantageous for the renewal and upbuilding of the + + + Gary GreiL S.J., is a member of Regis College; 3425 Bayview Avenue; Willowdale, On-tario; Canada. ~ , VOLUME 26, 1967,. ;~ , 805 ÷ ÷ plays an important role in the concerns of the Church; and it is becoming increasingly more evident that the layman can perform as well, if not at times better, func-tions previously reserved to priests and religious. Fur: thermore, wherea~ men and women with vows are in-capable of experiencing directly many of the common aspects of Christian life, such as raising a family, provid-ing for one's own economic security, and the often pain-ful decisions this entails, the layman can speak with firsthand acquaintance with these affairs in attempting to improve and advance Christianity. With this aware-ness, much advice from religious can sound like de-tached theory with little or no connection with the data. And since the greater part of mankind is in fact not bound by the three vows, it may seem that those who are cannot possibly relate realistically to problems where they arise with greatest frequency. Then there are the traditional arguments for the life of the vows, arguments which at present appear lacking in appreciatio.n of immanent human values. Through the vows, it has been argued, a Christian. empties him-self, ,undergoes a sort of martyrdom, and thereby makes' it possible for God to fill his .being.2 This emptying proceeds by denying oneself possessions, sexual pleasure, and personal decision. The, problem with this argument, of course, is that none of these is, of itself, an obstacle to the life of God. God works in and through human values and not in spite of them; or, to speak tradition-ally, grace builds on nature. And though there is risk in living according .to human potentiality, nothing is gained simply by placing oneself in a situation in which risk is eliminated. For elimination of risk e.ntails elimi-nation of possibility for growth and development. And besides, if pr)vate possessions, the use of sexuality, and personal decision were simply obstacles, to growth in the life of God, most Christians would be unable to live with unreserved dedication their roles in the world. The more seriously they would dedicate themselves to living Church . " Also, see Apostolicam actuositatem (Decree on the Apostolate of the Laity), p. 64: "An individual layman, by reason of the knowledge, competence, or outstanding ability which he may enjoy, is permitted and sometimes even obliged to express his opinion on things which concern the good of the Church)' Here-after, all references to thd documents of Vatican lI will be to the Abbott edition: 2Thus, according to Jacques Gervais, O.M.I., in "The End and' the Means in Religious Life," (Donum Dei, n. 10 [Ottawa, 1965],~' pp. 86-7), the purpose of the vows "is to produce that empty space in the heart, that interior poverty and complete detachment that opens the door for the flood of paschal grace. That void and that poverty are essential tb every Christian life . The vows dispose us more surely, more completely, more efficaciously to create this void." a Christian life, the more guilty they would have to feel~for involving themselves in normal human affairs. Another argument for the life of the vows looks upon involvement in normal human affairs as at best a detour on the road. to God. Through the vows a Christian fs enabled to proceed directly to God, without the neces-sity of entanglement in "worldly" concerns,a Through the vows, one can live only for God, and thus can move with greater speed toward the common goal of all Chris-tians. Or, if one prefers a different metaphor, we can consider the route of those without the vows as the usual way to God, and the course of those with the vows as a shortcut. Whichever way we view it, this argument is based on the premise that what is relinquished through the vows hinders a life of union with God. The argu-ment therefore suffers the same inadequacy as the pre-vious one. Because these arguments have seemed deficient, a more positive argument for the life of the vows has become popular today. Through the vows a Christian gives wit-ness to the eschatological nature of the ChurchA For by renouncing fundamental temporal values, the Christian bears witness to the transcendental or transtemporal as-pect of the Church's nature. A life of the vows thus bears public witness to the eschatological nature of the Church, representing the goal or final purpose of the life of the Church as prefigured in those of her members who live only for that goal and who make this explicit and public. Clearly, all Christians must live in the faith and hope of this goal. But, on this theory, only those Christians publicly manifest this fact who explicitly re-nounce in their lives fundamental and purely temporal values. As appealing as this theory seems to many, as an ar-gument for the central and fundamental meaning of the life of the vows it suffers from two defects. The first stems from de facto considerations. If this argument is to s Robert F. Lechn'er, C.PP.S. seems to say this in his article "In the Light of Divine Love" (Donum Dei, no. 4 [Ottawa, 1962], p. 34): "The religious, however, with a boldness and excess we allow only to lovers, does not deny creatures but simply turns his back upon them and forgets everything but God." 4See J. M. R. Tillard, O.P., "Religious Life, Sacrament of God's Presence," in REvmw FOE RELtCIOUS, V. 23 (1964), pp. 6-14; Robert F. Lechner, G.PP.S., "In the Light of Divine Love," pp. 36-40; John D. Gerken, S.J., Towards a Theology of the Layman (New York: Herder and Herder, 1963), esp. pp. 56-71, in which the author sets out Karl Rahner's theory on the meaning of the vows according to their value for wituess. A translation of one of Rahner's recent articles on this subject can be found in Religious Orders in the Modern World (Westminster: Newman, 1966), pp. 41-75, under the title "The Theology of the Religious Life." The theory here is essentially the witness-theory. 4, 4, ÷ The Vows VOLUME 26, 1967 80'/ 4. 4. 4. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 808 carry any real force, it must be possible to maintain that the Christian who lives according to the values foregone through the vows cannot in fact bear the type of public witness which is possible through a life of the vows. If he were able to give such witness, the vows would serve no purpose as such. But is this in fact impossible? Does not the married man who makes great sacrifices out of love for God bear witness to God's transcendence over purely temporal values? And does the manager of a busi-ness not give this same witness when he foregoes mone-tary gain through love and respect for the Church's teaching on social justice? It may be argued that this witness is not formally given, by such Christians since their precise motive cannot be made public in their ac-tions. It does not take long, however, for the reasons for true Christian behavior to become known, especially in a society permeated with non-Christian values.5 The second defect of this theory is that the vows, con-sidered as means for giving witness to the transcendent aspect of the Church, can only indirectly affect personal growth in perfection. In order for one to grow in love of God by giving witness, he must do so because this is how God wants him to serve the Church. Even if we. admit that pronouncing the vows is necessary in order to achieve this, we cannot hold, on this theory, that pronouncing the vows is directly intended by God in calling a person to be a witness. The witnessing itself is what God would directly want, whereas He would only indirectly desire that vows be pronounced, since these would be essential conditions for the type of witness to be given. This means that a person answering such a call would fulfill what it primarily and directly intends only while actually witnessing. And this is not achieved simply through .existing with the vows but demands further activity and circumstances whereby others may recognize what existence with the vows implies. If it be-came impossible for one existing with the vows per-sonally tO give witness, his vows would become per-sonally meaningless, since they would not be a means for his serving the Church and thus would cease to be a means for personal perfection. It cannot be denied that one living a life of the vows gives witness, nor that this witness is valuable. But the question in point is, what is the precise character of this witness. If the vows achieve some personal value for the one l~ronouncing them, this ~ See Vatican II, Lumen gentium, pp. 59-60: "Thus every layman, by virtue of the very gifts bestowed upon him, is at the same time a witness and a living instrument of the mission of the Church herself . " And ibid., p. 65: "Each individual layman must stand before the world as a witness to the resurrection and life of the Lord J'esus and as a sign that God lives." should govern the specific nature of whatever witness can be given through them. It is the value that is achieved through the life of the. vows that makes wit-nessing possible, and not witnessing that makes possi-ble a value for the life of the vows. What is, then, the value achieved through the vows? .s, simple answer does not seem initially possible. And' at the present stage of reflection 6n the meaning of the vows, a stage in history conditioned by extreme complex-ity, any attempt at an answer must be strictly an attempt, open to revision and clarification. The attempt that fol-lows is meant, then, to be merely a sketch of a possible approach to the meaning of the vows. And because the vows do not place one outside the general flow of Chris-tian life but are one of the forms of its realization, it will be important, in attempting to determine the mean-ing of the vows, to consider briefly the meaning of Chris-tian life itself. For it is this meaning that is realized in manifold manners; and if any of the forms which realize it are to be understood properly, that which they realize must be understood. All that is true of Christians in gen-eral must .hold true of Christians with vows. Not only, then, can one with vows not sacrifice what belongs es-sentially to being a Christian, but the meaning of the vows cannot adequately be grasped apart from an un-derstanding of the meaning of Christian life in general. Christian Life in General The realization of God's lov(for man, through Christ, is the meaning of Christian life in general. But due to the essentially historical nature of Christ's redeeming act, no man can realize God's love apart from the living activity of the Church, This means that, if man is to realize to any extent at all the meaning of his existence, the People of God will play an essential role in his life. Whateve~ the abstract possibilities may be for encounter-ing God, there can be no encounter of Him by man, as he presently exists, apart from the mediating activity of the Church.6 This consideration is of prime impor-tance for achieving any proper understanding of the pos-sibilities open to man in his radical search for the mean-ing of life in general and of his own life in particular. Perfection cannot be achieved by man through a ground-ing of free choice in a philosophical World-absolute. Nor can it be realized by simply answering a totally trans-cendent being who calls from the distant regions of an unperceivable kingdom. God's call to man now is neces-sarily vocalized through the Church. His call, there-n See E. Schillebeeckx, O. P., Christ the Sacrament, trans. Paul Barrett, O. P. and N. D. Smith (New York: Sheed and Ward, Stag-books, 1964). The ltows " VOLUME 26, 1967 809 4. Gary l~ : Greiy, $.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 810 fore, comes, to us. immediately as something concrete, per-ceptible, temporal, and human: This is true, even though the source of this call is in itself, unperceivable, eternal, and divine. And it is .true, even though men who receive it may not be aware of its immediate source. Anyone who thinks that he has a relationship with God which is simply immediate, or totally unmediated, is far from the truth. It would be just as erroneous to conceive one's relationship with God as a totally per-so. n-to-person,, individual-to-individual affair. For God can be encountered only' thro.ugh the activity of His Church, and therefore all personal,relationship.with God is essentially communal. The Church is precisely a peo-ple, a community established in the loving power of God and r~tufning that love through_ .its personal response.¢ God does, through Christ,, open Himself to individuals in lov~ and2.asks for their individual response in love. But this of~dr, is made through the comm.unity .of the People of God,,~and it is in this community that God is encountered. Whoever, therefore, responds to God's call for personal love of Himself is included ~within the com-munity through which and in which the call is made. No one, .therefore, approaches the, Father except through the Son; and since the Son is incarnate and made present to us now through His Church, all must encounter God through Christ as present in His com-munity. A further point to be attended to is that the mediating role of the Church is not aft undifferentiated, inert instrum~ntality of some sort. For.the Church is a living community, 'a complex reality as alive and com-plex~ as Christ Himself who she is and whose love and life she continues visibly in the temporal order. In medi-ating God's .love to man and man's response in love to God, the Church has diverse manners of expressing its life, among which" seven are primary. As visible embodi-ments and mediators of the personal love of God, these are called sacraments. And as deriving their meaning and role. frbm~,the Church itself, they ,are means .of en-countering' God in Christ; Man can,~ of course; encounter Christ in' all human and temporal,reality and activity. But every contact a man has with God in Christ finds its culmination and proper realization in~ ,the sacraments. For every ,realization of God's love is sacramental, in-cluding that which, as achieved apart from the 'sacra- . 7See Lumen gent~urn, p. 25: "It has pleased God, however to make men 'holy a~hd save them not merely as~ individuals witho6t any mutual bonds, but bymaking them into a single people,, a people which acknowlddges Him in truth and_ serves Him in holi-ness." The Latin text i~ more forceful, saying simply "Placuit tamen Deo homines non singulatim, quavis mutua connexion~ seclusa, sanctificare ~t salvare . " (,4eta ,4t~ostolica~' Sedis, ~. ~7 [Jan. 30, 1985], pp. 12-1~, n. 9 [italics added]). ments themselves, reaches its fullness only in the sac-raments. Therefore, though God can be encountered outside the sacraments, such encounter is always achieved as an incipient realization of full and proper encounter with Christ, the sacrament of the encounter with God, in the seven sacraments. And since these sacraments achieve meaning and reality in and ,through the. life of the Church, we can say that man encounters God only in and through encounter with the Church.s Man initially encounters God in His Church, in an explicit and fully committed mahner, when he is bap-tized. 9 In this, sacramental act he is committed funda-mentally and totally to the love of God, thus entering in a" radical manner an unconditional love relationship with the People of God through whom the relationship is made possible and realized. Since this commitment is unconditional, it necessarily calls forth and centers all the vital aspects of the baptized in the person who has opened Himself in love. This means that the commit ment is visible, expressing outwardly .the total dedication arid transformation of the entire person. This expres-sibn in visibility of the baptismal commitment, since it is mediated through the community which is explicitly and visibly in union with God through love of Christ, entails explicit commitment, to the community of the People of God.'~ Since this commitment is of the entire person/it trans-cends thd limitations of space and time. In this one act 0[ dedication, the entire past and future' of th~ person is ~ollect'ed in a single moment. All that the person has been is called upon to direct and channel all that he will become in and through the single act of loving commitment.' His entire future is prelived through the ac~ of present realization of all he has been. The bap-tismal commitment dferefore encompasses the total real-ity of tl~e person so entering a love relationship with God. But a person's Iife work is not finished in this single act: For though he is committed for all time and in every place and circumstance, he has not lived out his entire 'life, in this act, through all its concrete actuality. His commitment, though complete as such, must be in-tensified and developed through the fuller development and intensification of his personal existence. This is what it'means to live out a commitment. Nevertheless, though the*initial act of total love made possible through bap-tis'm must be' developed, the lines along which it can be developed are initially structured by the meaning of the commitment itself. The commitment made at baptism is one of love and See Schilleb.eeckx, Christ the Sacrament, esp. pp. 223-9. 8 Ibid., pp. 176-9. + + + .The ,Vows VOLUME 26, 1967 81:1 specifically of love for God in Christ through the com-munity of the People of God. The meaning of this com-mitment can therefore be sketched briefly according to the meaning of human love and according to the spe-cific constituents of the Christian love situation. 4- 4- 4- Gary F. GreiF, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 812 The Meaning of Human Love Human love always involves the entire being of the individual.10 For love is achieved when an individual offers himself, by all that he is, to another, and in this act receives the other's total offer of himself. Love arises in a situation of complete mutuality, such that the to-tal giving of oneself is at the same time a total receiving of oneself. This total giving and receiving in the situa-tion of love, however, never constitutes concretely the complete perfection of the individuals involved as long as it occurs within the purely human order. Neverthe~ less, it does constitute their complete perfection in prin~ ciple; that is, it establishes the basis for meaningful hu-man development. For, as open by nature to indefinite possibility for self-realization, man in fact proceeds by degrees to the realization of what he is in principle; and there can be no a priori limits set to the degree of per-fection he can achieve concretely. Furthermore, what governs his development is what in principle is unlim-ited in perfection. He can, and does, develop according to the realization of values which in principle are lim-ited; but his development according to such values pro-ceeds in an undistorted manner only if it is governed constantly by a value which in principle is proportion~ ate to his nature, that is, by a value which is in princi-ple unlimited. And since, in the human order, only hu-man individuals can constitute in principle the value according to which a man's entire development can proceed properly, since only human individuals are in principle unlimited as capable of indefinite develop-ment, it is only in and through love that an individual can discover true meaning to his life. For each human individual is unlimited openness, ~in openness which is not some empty space to be filled up, but which is a dynamic activity to be progressively real-ized in greater perfection. What, therefore, no one hu-man individual can constitute through himself alone, each can discover through another. No one individual can constitute for himself unlimited value, for every lo The phenomenology for what follows can be found in Martin Buber's 1 and Thou (trans. Ronald Gregor Smith [New York: Scrib-ner's, 1958]), a, nd Between Man and Man (trans. Ronald Gregor Smith [London: Fontana Library, 1947]); and in F. J. J. Buytendijk's Phdnomdnologie de la rencontre (trans~ Jean Knapp [Descl& de Brouwer, 1952]). human individual is in fact limited. But when one in-dividual, as dynamic openness, offers himself, by all that he is and can be, to another such openness, and the other responds by all that he is and can be by offering himself to the first, each becomes ordered to being totally ful-filled through the active self-giving of the other. And though this fulfillment exists only in principle, or as a value to be progressively realized, it establishes the basis for the life project of working out fulfillment in con-crete detail. It is in this situation of mutual self-giving that the human individual discovers what alone can ful-fill his nature. Only what is unlimited perfection can constitute a value adequate for the development of the human individual. And only through the situation of mutual and total self-giving can this value be recognized. It is therefore in the situation called love that a per-son discovers and properly begins to realize the meaning of his existence. And though this meaning is revealed through human love, it points beyond the merely hu-man situation to that person who is not simply in prin-ciple unlimited in perfection but is unlimited in fact. In every human love situation, there is a built-in in-adequacy stemming from the necessary limitation in fact of the human individual. For man is in principle a dynamic possibility for indefinite development in per-fection, and as such, can never be unlimited perfection in fact. When one person opens himself to another com-pletely and thus accepts the other in an unlimited manner, he commits himself to the other as in principle unlimited in perfection. Nevertheless, he is aware of the factual limitation of the other and intends both for him-self and the other fulfillment through realization of re-lation with one who is unlimited in fact. In this sense, God is present in every purely human love situation, and it is God alone who can perfectly situate man in a to-tally fulfilling act of love. Implications of Human Love The term "love" is used so widely these days, in so many diverse contexts and with so many different mean-ings, that it seemed imperative to give this brief outline of its meaning as the fundamental value in man's life. On the basis of what we have indicated, we can make a few observations about the manner in which the love situation must be lived out by all who are consistent with the value it constitutes. Since this situation involves mutuality of self-giving, those situated in it must be at-tentive to the needs, desires, projects, judgments, and in general, to all the vital forces operative in one another's lives. This attention must be sincere, that is, given with the entire being of those involved, for the mutuality of VOLUME 26, 1967 81,~ ÷ ÷ Gary F. Gre~, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 814 the love situation calls for the concrete realization of what it entails i~t principle. This attention to the existence of the other does not mean, therefore, that one person simply subordinates himself completely to an-other, such that the other becomes his complete master and he becomes a slave. Such complete subordination would preclude any realization of the mutuality de-manded by love. Nevertheless, within the context of mu-tuality, it may be the case that one person will be more capable than the other in certain areas of life; and thus, though the more capable can never demand respect at the expense of mutuality in self-giving, he can desire and has a right to hope that the other will allow him to exercise his capability for the other's benefit. For both are dedicated to the well-being of the other by giving themselves to one another in love. This means, of course, that the one exercising his capability for the other, will himself constantly be open to receiving the being of the other in this exercise and will himself receive what the other has to offer him. The .love situation thus entails a spirit of obedience, which is fundamentally the attentiveness of those in-volved to one another in all the concrete details of the life-project to which they have mutually committed themselves. It has its source in mutuality of self-giving which is total and uncompromising. If this spirit is not present, dedication in love is empty of meaning and reality; and what is announced as love is merely some form of selfishness and self-centeredness. Only that person who is completely perfect in fact can claim the right never to commit himself in obedience to another. For only such a person could claim absolute ability to know what is best for the other and could give promise of achieving this. And yet, not even such a completely perfect person, acting consistently with love, could de-mand slavery of the other; for this would mean that he would not be offering himself to the other but only us-ing the other for his own ends. If love, as the fundamental value in man's life, must situate all other values, it nevertheless does not, of it-self, spell out all the values which man can discover in life, Among these values are those which arise from man's need to possess goods for his continued existence and well-being. It is the nature of possession that what is possessed is subordinate to the possessor; for it de-rives its value as existing simply for him, to be used by him for his own well-being. Such use is legitimate, if what is possessed has in principle of itself perfection less than that of the possessor. For then there is no distortion in subordinating it to oneself. On the other hand, the use of one man by another would constitute distortion of the reality of both, for no man is by nature inferior to another. The only valid stance that can be taken to a human individual is that which regards the other as perfect in principle as oneself. There can only be a material similarity between the way we at times treat other men and the way we treat what is inferior to men. For though men must at~times be operated-on, or analyzed, or taught to perform certain functions, none of these activities can ever be conducted in abstraction fromthe fact that they regard what in principle is far superior to a mere living organism or a set of subhu-man data. Mere organisms and mere data can be pos-s: essed and controlled by man; but possession and un-qualified control of man by man is inconsistent with the meaning of human existence. There is, therefore, a spirit which breathes through th~ love situation precluding the possession and use of another. Possession can be valid when there is question of satisfying human needs through what is, by its na-ture, subordinate to man. But not even possession such as this can lay any claim to. totally fulfilling human existence. As a valid means for living out this existence, it must always be situated within the one absolute value f6r man. Any activity which either contradicts or is car-ried on in abstraction from the context of love must ultimately bear distorted fruit. Because man is bodily and his drive for ultimate satis-faction in perfection involves himself as bodily, one of the common forms of possession and use of others is subordination for mere sexual gratification. One cannot prescind from the sex of the person loved, for the total being of the person is situated in love. On the other hand, because the human individual is open to an in-definite degree of perfection, his perfection does not consist simply in bodily fulfillment. Whoever therefore would seek"in another merely bodily satisfaction, even though iu this act looking to the bodily, satisfaction of the other, would be acting outside the context of love and thus would effect distortion of himself and the other. For love situates human individuals in total and mutual self-giving, and any approach to another less than total, prescinding frbm the nature of man as such, cannot be situated in love. We can enter love only if we enter it bodily; there can never be for man in this life an angelic form of love. But the meaning of man's bod-ily being depends upon the context in which it is de-termined. Its fullest meaning can therefore be deter-mined only in the context of love, for it is this context which reveals the fullest meaning of man himself. If the meaning° of sex is established from a purely bio-logical or psychological basis, questions concerning its ÷ ÷ ¯ The Vows VOLUME 26, 1967 815 ÷ ÷ Gary F. Greit, $4. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 816 proper role in human activity can never adequately be resolved. For human bodily relations achieve their full and proper meaning only in the context of full and proper 'human self-realization. And since man can only properly realize himself through another in love, he will never properly understand himself and his bodily, ac-tivity if~ he prescinds from this context. All use of sex must proceed through a spirit of chastity, for it is this spirit which is operative in the recognition of the human person's value. Sexuality is by no means of itself evil, but it can be distorted and thus made evil, if it is conducted at the expense of an-other's total meaning. Within the-context of love, one can determine the manner in which he will effectively work out his relationship with others; and this may or may not entail the exercise of genital sexuality. When it does, the love which situates the exercise of genital sex-uality will give it a properly human meaning. For there is no one simple meaning to genital sexuality. We can designate it minimally as that expression and realiza-tion of man's sexuality which is genitally oriented. But the further meaning this has in the concrete will vary according to the contexts which realize it. Genital sex-uafity, then, will be fully human if it emerges in the context of true human love, for then it will he inte-grated in the true meaning of the person. Since, how-ever, total mutual self-giving establishes a situation which, because of the dynamic natures of those it situ-ates, must be lived out in varying concrete detail, it need not entail communication through bodily existence according to all the possibilities for its realization. When it is realized through exercise of genital sexuality, the communication must be governed by the fundamental situation which gives full meaning to all forms' of human expression. The moment one truly enters love, all misuse of sex is precluded as a possibility, to the extent that the love situation is effectively maintained. Christian Love These three aspects of love clearly embody the spirit of the evangelical counsels. We have been discussing, how-ever, the meaning of human love in general; :and there-fore more has to be said before the specific meaning of explicit Christian love can be brought into focus. Love is explicitly Christian when it' situates a community of people in receptive openness to God in the person of Christ. When one loves as a Christian, explicitly in-volving himself in this love, he enters a community, established through the love of Christ, whose sole mean-ing is the realization of God's love for man. As an ex-plicit community, it entails structure and organization; but this is subordinate to the primary meaning of the community as a people responding to, and making pos-sible response to the self-giving of God to man. All that has been said so far concerning the general mean-ing of love becomes more determinate in the context of explicitly Christian love; for Christian love is not some totally unrelated form of love. It embodies whatever can be' said of love in general, and does so in a pecu-liarl~ significant nianner. Christian love promises what no merely human love can validly promise. It promises the complete.fulfillment of man through personal union with the absolutely perfect person of the Father, achieved through the equally perfect person of His Son, bb~h of whom pour out their love in the person of the Holy Spirit. The distinguishing factor in Christian love, then, is that'it situates the human individual in personal union with God in and through a community established by Christ for this. purpose. The communal aspect of Chris-tian love is of the highest 'significance. Just as those situ-ated in merely human love are committed to look after the needs and to respect the freedom of one another, so those~situated in explicitly Christian love must look to the needs and responsible decisions of the community. This means that the Christian must be seriously con-cerned, not only with the properly ecclesial affairs o[ the Church, but must also take seriously the temporal needs and concerns of the People of God. It means further that, not only the needs and concerns of those who explicitly belong to the Christian community but also the needs and concerns of all those who are in-cipiently and implicitly Christian and of all who are or-dered to Christian life by the dignity of their being must be looked after by the Christian. For Christ meant His love to embrace all men, and whoever professes to love Christ must share this same concern. The meaning of Christian life in general therefore in-volves, in broadest outline, love of God, realized through love of Christ in and through a community established for and by this love in the life of the Spirit. But it in-volves as well the three characteristics of human love we indicated previously. Since these play an essential role in understanding the place of the three vows in Christian life, it is important that their implications for Chris-tian life in general be clearly understood. The first of these characteristics is that of responsiveness to the in-sights, judgments, opinions, and convictions of those situated in love. Anything less would imply that real mutuality were absent, and thus that no real love situa-tion existed. In the Christian community of love, this means that everyone, no matter what his status, must be The Vows VOLUME 26, 1967 817 ÷ ÷ respected in the decisions which each member of the commudity takes in regard to the ~whole. No one can simply be excluded from the formatio.n of such de-cisions, for everyone in the com_munity is interrelated through the personal love of~ God, and the ,community itself exists to bring men into~ intimate union,with God through personal response ~to Christ's love. Some in the community clearly have the role of finally determi~ning courses of action, of-~ taking,~ the initiative in certain spheres of activity, of passing final judgment on affairs. But~no matter,, what the status of any member ,[._the community may be, if the situation of IQve which funda-, mentally constitutes the commu.nity is to be seriouslyLre.- sp~cted, all must be respected in whatever action or. de-cision is taken. Purely authoritarian or autocratic rule has no place in the People of God. God alone0can claim perfection sufficient to indicate what is right and wrong without ~onsulting. But not ev~en God expects a pure)y p~issive submission from His people; for His relationship, to them is one of love; and this means that He awaits constantly, their response to: Him through.all that~ they are, including their powers of decision and judgment. , The ~econd characteristic of love ,is that it is achieved only, if possession is never allowed to extend to another person. This ~means that possession and possessions are always 6f secondary value.to,.a true Christian and that no, person, can be uged for one's own ~well-being. Wealth may-play an important role in the Christian community, .but its role is always secondary to the role of strictly per-sonal values., Real scandal can be caused by Christians "who give the impression that their possessions, are what matter most,,'to them or who ,~seem .to identify their Christianity with the value of wealth.~Being poor .does not necessarily,° in this context, mean that one is desti-tute, nor that one does not live comfortably; but it does mean that one considers .all.his possessions secondary to the value of giving and receiving in love. It would be just as fal.se for a Christian .to amass great wealtti at the exp~fi'se of.the personal well-being of others, as it would for a~ Christian to be very frugal in matters of material possessi6ns .while~.sa(rificing the, sensibil

Issue 24.4 of the Review for Religious, 1965. ; JEAN GALOT,~ S.J, Why Religious .Life?. A Contemporary Question Why does the religious life exist in the Church today?* A number of religious, both men and women, are asking themselves this question. Promotion of the Christian laity has ilIuminated the saintly role .that the layman is to play within the Church and has called attention to the contribution he is to make in the consecration of the universe. But ~f sainthood is the normal goal of the layman, why bother to seek holiness, in the religious life? Christians are gradually .coming to understand dearly.that the layman' is to pursue perfection' in his own. way. Consequently, 'it is becoming less clear why perfection is to be sought in the convent or the cloister. More particularly, the development of conjugal spirtuality has revealed the value and nobi!it~i of Chris-tian marriage~the riches of the sacrament that elevates £amily life to a supernatural level. Hence souls who thirst for God can. seek the divine presence in married life. Is there any reason, then, to renounce marriage tO adhere to the Lord in the religious life? Furthermore, apostolic services which have been the traditional works of rdligious are being efficiently pro-vided by laymen. Teaching arid nursing, social service ahd home care, these are apostolates which laymen are performing with remarkable competence. The apparent equality in terms of service, whether rendered by laymen or religious, gives rise to the question: Why emer religious life with a view to an apostolate which can be accomplished as well in the laystate? Moreover, the lay apostolate may appear superior. He who is directly engaged in the world is more capable of penetrating today's human milieu to deliver Christ's message naturally and efficiently, i Many religious communities do not give the impression of being adequately adapted to our age. Young people ¯ This article, which first appeared as "Pourquoi la vie religieuse?" in Revue des communautds religieuses, v. 37. (1965), pp. 20-34, has been translated by Raymond L. Sullivant, S:J.; 4Mont~e de Four-vi~ re; Lyon V (Rh6ne), Franco 4- Jean Galot, s.J., is professor of dog-matic theology at Co]l/~ge Saint-At= bert; 95, chauss~e de Mont - Saint - Jean; Ee.genhoven - Lou-yam, Belgium.:. VOLUME 24~ 1965 505 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 506¯ who desire to reflect Christ in the world are reluctant to set out upon a path where constraining barriers separate them from the rest of humanity. They believe that by remaining laymen they Will be able to adhere to the Church and to God's own People in a more vital. -way, thereby giving apostolic expression to their exist-ence. . The recruiting crisis which .a number of congrega- .tions are experiencing makes the problem stand out in even greater relief. Are these communities in step with ¯ the contemporary Church? Is not religious life as a whole crippled by decrepitude? Does not the life's de-creasing ability to attract young people indicate that congregations are no longer in step with pre.~ent dhy mentality and that they have outlived their usefulness? One could answer that the signs of age affect. only the exterior forms of religious life. But are not these forms the manifestation of a spirit? Does not the rapid expansion of saintli,ne~s among the laity oblige religious to raise the question: Is a vision of the Church without ¯ the religious life conceivable? Could not the religious state be a form of holiness which, having played a cen-tral role in Christian life for centuries, could now dis-appear to be replaced by other.forms? The fact that the Council accorded special atten-tion to these problems, that its i resolution expressed the desire to see religious life develop with the life of the Church by adapting to the present day world, suffices to orient the answer to our questions. But a serious obligation exists to explore the problem in order to analyze the true meaning of religious life and its reason for being.1 Let us begin by considering the juridical structure which we customarily believe to form the framework of religious life. Canonically speaking, the state is constituted by the profession of the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. But let us attempt to trace the life blood to its source--to the gospel from which it springs and from whence life flows. In other words, let us briefly, determine the place which Christ wished to reserve for the religious life when He founded His. Church. x The diversity of recent publications on the subject attests to the need and widespread desire for a searching inquiry into the doctrine of religious life. We shall limit ourselves to two collective studies: La vie religieuse clans l'Eglise du Christ (Bruges: Descl~e de Brouwer); Les religieux au]ourd'hui et demain (Paris: Cerf, 1964); and to two .individual ones: Soeur Jeanne d'Arc, Les religieuses darts l'Eglise et ¯ darts le monde actuel (Paris: Cerf, 1964); Gustave Martelet, S.J., Saintetd de l'Eglise et vie religieuse (Toulouse: Editions Pri~re et Vie, 1964). The last work mentioned, while brief, is outstanding for its depth of thought. How Was the. foundation effected? The first two chapters of St~ John's Gos.pel are extremely revealing in this respect. , This evangelist who employed the most perspective in writing an account of the life and work ¯ of Jesus and who, while supplying historical memories, reflected on their meanirig more than any otiier, places us, immediately after the hymn praising the Incarnation and after the witness of John the Baptist, before a double'image: Jesus 'sets about calling His disciples, He then accompanies them to the wedding feast of Cana where He ,operates His first miracle. Everything happens as if Christ had determined, from the begin-ning of the public life, the .two states which He wished to combine in His Church: the consecrated life, inaugu-rated by inviting the disciples to follow Him, and the mar-riage state, recognized while symbolically revealing His intention of tramforming it, of renewing it by grace. Jesus first institutes the consecrated life. He begins by requesting simple men to attach themselves com-pletely to His person. It is by the adhesion of two dis-ciples who have decided to follow Him and to share His company that the life of the Church is inaugurated. When the evangelist tells us that the first two disciples dwelled'near Jesus from that day (Jn 1:39), he advises us of the~e£act hour, "the tenth 'hour," in order to call attention to the importance of the event for-he has described the first day in the life of the Church.~ For the first time, a community of disciples is formed around the Master. We can realize the immediate relevance the e~ent assumes for the establishmentof the Church, this state of life in which one is entirely consecrated ¯ to Christ, a state to which certain souls receive a special call. The Apostles lived in this state, instituted in the number of twelve by Jesus, not simply in view of a preaching mission, but first of all to facilitate an inti-mate adherence to the Master; they are designated by Christ "to be his companions and to go out preaching at his command" (Mk 3:14). A similar concern attracts a more numerous group of disciples--and a few women who accompany Christ offering Him their existence and theii" devotion. The characteristics of this state are sufficiently clear from the Gospel without there being a question of + juridical organization as such. The central factor in ÷ "following'' Chr!s~ implies .complete submission out of ÷ regard for Him, a break with one's family, a renounce-ment of the trade practiced until then and of material Religious Life goods. It involves a community life.p01arized on Christ, "VOLUME 24, 196"5 = At least, it is the first day of the Church in process of formation; the Church will not be completely constituted Until Pentecost. 507 closer association with His redemptive work and apos-tolic mission. Fr6m these diverse aspects one can dis-cern ¯ the elements which will later constitute religious life: union 'with Christ through obedience~ chastity,. poverty, common life, and dedication to the apostolate. It is not yet a question of the religious life properly speaking, for as it was instituted by Jesus, the conse-crated life is not specified a~cording to determined forms, nor is it organized according to ;i single struc-ture. But it is inaugurated in keeping with a general principle, a" principle which will serve as a basis, in cen-turies to come, foi- various kinds of life--that of bishops and diocesan priests, that of religious and members of secular institutes, and that of various types of consecra-tion in the world. .÷ + + ~ean Galot, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 508 The Place oI the Counsels in the Complete Religious Lile The Gospels open perspectives on consecrated life, this state which Christ desired for the foundation of His Church. Scriptm:e invites us to definereligious life in terms which go beyond the three evangelical counsels: poverty, chastity, and obedience. There has been a wide-spread tendency to adopt too n~irrow a concept of religious life, making .it consist in the mere practice of the three counsels and the profession of the three corresponding vows. It i~ true that on certain occasions Jesus makes a special plea for poverty, for separation from one's family; or He .underlines the value of renouncing marriage. But these diverse elements draw their meaning from attach-ment to His person, an attachment that is immediate and exclusive. It is this tie which constitutes the central reality of the consecrated life. To consider the three "counsels" separately constitutes poor methodology and incurs a risk of arriving at a negative definition of the religious life which amounts to a refusal of the world. It is important to keep the summons: "Come follow me" foremost in mind, as it combines in a' logical synthesis the various demands of poverty, chastity, and obedience. One could object that the attachment to Christ is obviously presupposed in the vows, that this requirbment underlies the three counsels. Nevertheless, what is fundamental is enhanced by being clearly 'expressed---by Being set forth not ¯ merely as a suggestion, but in explicit ~ind concrete terms as the complete and primordial object of the commitment. Hence the religious life is not to be too exclusively r~duced to the three counsels. In keeping with evangel-ical indications and the experience of religious life itself, other features of ~he state deserve, to be emphasized in the. same degree: the total gift of self .to Christ; com-munity life; the consecration of one's entire existence to the Church and to the apostolate. ~ As a result of our attachment to Christ, we must stress the value of community life where the Master's precept of mutual charity i:ari find integr~il fulfillment. Religious life tends to translate this ideal of love into strong ties of solidarity and teamwork~ . Wholehearted commitment.to the apostolate, whether by prayer and sacrifice or through activity, also warrants being considered essential to the religious life. At times during conciliar debate, one. received the impression that the religious life was recognized and esteemed because of the personal holiness which it fosters and that insu~cient attention was paid to .the consecrated person's vigorous participation in the Church's evangelizing mission. It is fortunate that certain fathers called attention to the apos-tolic aims of religious life--not failing to recall the effec-tive witness value of these aims and the contribution of religious to missionary expansion. It is especially impor-tant to understand that the apostolic effort is not simply one of the fruits of religious life, nor the simple manifesta-tion of the sanctity which the state encourages, For re-ligious profession by its very essence entails a genuine com-mitment to the apostolate and involvement in all the activities which such a commitment implies. Thus to characterize the ;religious life in terms of the development of the interior life alone would constitute an incomplete assessment. While assuring such a de-velopment by an intimate adherence to Christ and by a regime of prayer, the religious must not be less con-cerned with the apostolic ascendancy of Christ over humanity. It is desirable that the very terms of reli-gious profession express this apostolic commitment de-liberately as well as underline a total attachment to Christ and to fraternal charity within the community. The Essential Reality of the Church Thus it is as a state characterized by preferential love of Christ, by community, and apostolic love that the consecrated life would appear to be included in the very foundation of the Church. By considering the three counsels alone, the ecclesial role of religious life is less apparent; the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience would appear only under the aspect of individual as-ceticism, or they may be considered as a simple enrich-ment of the Church rather than principles of a form of life which constitutes a necessary element of the Church herself. The Savior wanted the consecrated lives of His disciples and women followers to form the cornerstone of His Church, the very first stone. ÷ ÷ ÷ l~ligiou~ Li~v VOLUME 24, 1965 509 ÷ ÷ ÷ lean Galot, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 510 To gain insight into Christ's will, let us recall what the Church permits us to see in the depth of her being--in revelation. The basic aim of salvation's plan is to establish a :covenant between God and humanity. A new covenant, an ideal one, was announced by the prophets, particularly by Jeremiah and Ezekiel. At the Last Supper the Savior manifested His intention to found this covenant by His sacrifice and to render it forever present by the Eucharistic service. Now the covenant is fulfilled not between God and each individual but be-tween God and the community of His disciples founded by Jesus, a community destined to regroup all of hu-manity in unity. The Church was instituted as the community of the covenant. The great value which the consecrated life has for the covenant community is immediately discernible. Cove-nant signifies the union of man with God. In the consecrated life, this union is a~sured in the most im-mediate, direct ~ay. It is not an attempt to unite with God through the mediation of terrestrial goods but through a way of life in which the basic value is Christ Himself, all other treasures being renounced. Nor is the adherence accomplished through the mediation of hu-man love as in marriage. Every affection is focused upon Christ in person. Consequently, the covenant is inti-mately bound up with this, and the Church fulfills her-self in depth as she should truly be. Mankind enters the covenant founded by Jesus through human persons who attach themselves to Him directly and completely. The foregoing truth is revealed in a particularly strik-ing way by the consecration of virgins. By this means the Churcli assumes concretely and fully her identity as Bride of the Savior through the virgins who profess to live 'for Christ alone by reserving their heart entirely for Him.3 The covenant was originally announced through prophetic oracles in the form of matrimonial union, and Jesus chose to fulfill these oracles by pre-senting Himself as the Groom. According to St. Paul, the Church is His Bride; redemption itself is envisaged as the act of love par excellence, the model of conjugal love: "Husbands, love your wives as Christ loved the Church and gave himself up for her" (Eph 5:25). The Church's act of attachment to her Spouse is manifested most integrally in the action of those souls who were regarded from the very earliest times as the brides of Christ, those who vow him a virginal love. The basic reality of the Church involved in this consecration is thus revealed in the bond uniting the Bride to the divine Spouse. s This truth is made remarkably clear by Father Martelet, Saintetd de l'Eglise, pp. 37-9; 51-3. Community charity is another element of the basic reality 0f the Church. The mutual love arising from the supernatural adherence to Christ which unites the mere- ¯ bers of the Church arose in the community of disciples who surrounded the Master, and it tends ~o develop most genuinely .and c0mplet~ly~ in religious c0~amunities-- ¯ where the Church's fulfillment is expressed in exterior actions, thereby permitting the greatest growth of inti- ¯ mate charity. And .finally it is tO be pointed out that apostolic d~namism is not superimposed on the Church from without but is a part. of her very reality, as the event of Pentecost shows. The Christian community, at the mo-ment when it was officially established as the Church by the power of the Holy Spirit, was constituted in a state of apostolic expansion. The grade received from .above transformed and sanctified the disciples causing them to radiate their testimony in the milieu where they were called to labor. Similarly, the consecrated life by chan-neling all the forces and resources of human' existence in the service of the apostolate, fulfills the Church's mis-sion in a most integral manner. If one recalls the most fundamental aspects of ihe consecrated life, one must- conclude in consequence that they are the. integral realization of the. Church in keep-ing with her fundamental marks: covenant community, imutual union, zeal of apostolic expansion in the world. In fact, one recogr~izes the marks of the Church accord-ing to the classical enumeration: holiness through union with God, unity, catholicity, and apostolicity. The com-parison indicates.the extent to which the consecrated life is a necessary constituent of the Church. The ~Religious Li[e andHierarchical Structure It is important to clarify the position of the conse-crated life in the Church. In its diverse forms (including the religious life, the most important of these), it does not enter into the hierarchical structure, the latter being concretely determined by the sacrament of order. It occupies no degree of order Within the hierarchy, nor can it be inserted between the clergy and ,the laity as an intermediary state. The question has recently been raised: Does the religious life belong to the structure of the Church?. One must respond in the negative inso-far as the.hierarchical structure is envisaged. But.there is also a spiritual structure of holiness and charity which is essential to the Church and of which the religious life is an indispensable element.4 The two structures are, ¯ It would appear'perhaps excessive ~o define with Father Martelet .($aintetd de l'Eglise, p. 102) the "hierarchical pole" as the'love of Christ for the Church and the "charismatic pole" by the Church's ÷ ÷ VOLUME 24, 1965 .4" Jean Galot, S.J. REVIEW FOR" RELIGIOUS 512 furthermore, closely related; and the religious l~fe,' as all of Christian life, submits to the direction of the hierarchy. It is' dependent on those whom Christ wished to be the shepherds of the community. Yet this dependence does not exclude a certain auton-omy in the sense that the hierarchy is destined .neith6r ¯ to create no~ to dominate.the religious life. The fact that religious institutes, have seldom been inspired or fot~nded by the hierarchy warrants reflection.5 Marked by charismatic origins, most. institutes have been founded by a layman or a priest who developed a .~ensitive aware-ness of. the Church's quest for holiness or of one of her particular and pressing needs. The founder wished to structure a kind of life that would meet this need and attract disciples in his steps in order to. perform a ~pecific work more perfectly. The religious life was ¯ thus formed "from below," from a stimulus produced by the Holy Spirit in the soul of the founders. The hierarchy's role has been to approve the society and its work and to utilize the spiritual and apostolic re-sources which religious put at its disposition for the pastoral task. The wisdom of the Church .and her leaders is to be admired for safeguarding this autonomy of religious life and for recognizing .therein an authentic action of the Holy Spirit which was to be "respected. Thus reli-gious life, within the whole of Christian life, testifies that in:keeping with God's plan divine lights andener-gie~ communicated to men are not exclusively reserved to the hierarchy, that the Spirit continues to breathe where it will--upon simple members of the Church as well as in the soul of her shepherds. The specific purpose of exemption is to permit a more "universal development of the inspiration which gives rise to religious institutes,~ As we have pointed out, exemption does not aim to withdraw religious life from the control of the hierarchy ' but rather to rehder its members more freely accessible for the service of the love for Christ, for the charismata imply Christ's love which is de-sirous of spreading throughout humanity and religious life entails a special love on the part of the Bridegroom. It is rather a question ¯ -of .two aspects of union or mutual love. One concerns the social organization of the Mystical Body and the other its spiritual life. ~ Father Martelet (Saintetd de l'Eglise, p. 96) judiciously observes that the bishops who have exerted an influence on the religio.us life have done it'less in virtue of their office than as a restilt of the spirit-. ual fashion in which they exercised it: St. Basil, St. Ambrose, St. Augustine, St. Fran(is de Sales. e It seems to us that exemption does not aim simpl~ at guaranteeing charismatic inspiration, as Father Martelet believes (Saintetd de l'Eglise, pp. 99-I00), but rather thai it assures the universality of a form of holiness and of apostolic endeavor. universal, government" of the Church, the Pope and. the college of bishops. In fact, exemption concerns only the lbcal hierarchy, the government of a particular, diocese. For religious life normally tends to assume dimensions whiqh surpass diocesan confines, it aims to promote a ffni~,ersal form of holiness which will respond to the aspirations of a .large number .of souls in the Church; it wishes to estab-lish communal charity, to. unite Christians' of several ~.r.e.gions or~countries. It seeks to develop apostolic woi:ks which cross frontiers and ~o expand, most especially into mission .areas. This .universality. which justifies exemptioh, far from robbing the Church. of religious life, renders, the latter more coextensive with the Church as a whole, making it a more integral part of the uni-versal Church. The important role played by religious in missionary expansiofi testifies that exemption has guar.anteed "a more universal evolution of the Church and rendered personnel readily accessible to the will of the sovereign pontiffs. " Religious Life and Sacramental Structure. Difficulty in determining and 'evaluating the role of re-ligious life within the Church may result from the fact that the state is not founded on asacrament. There has been a tendency to compafe the religious state ~ith the priestly or marriage states, giving preference to the latter because of their si~cramental origin. Is it possible, in fact, tO say that religious life derives from a sacrament? We must affirm that it falls within the development of baptismal effects and develops ac-. quisitions received" through baptismal, consecration. The baptized person belongs to God and shares in divine holiness. This sharing finds full expression in the reli-gious life. ' Nevertheless, religious life, which is a response to. a special call from the Lord and which has ex-tremely elevated objectives, cannot be fully explained by the effects of baptism alone. The life arises from ~charisms which surpass the life of the baptized; and it involves commitments which, while fulfilling the baptis-mal promises to the maximum, go far .beyond whai is required of other Christians. . We must, then,, recognize that the religious life as such does not result from a sacrament. It is true that the entire life of the Church is affected by the sadraments-- but there are also extrasacramental influences within the Church. Just as the hierarchical structure does not enjoy a monopoly of the Holy Spirit's inspirations, the. sacramental structure enjoys no monopoly of the sources of grace. The sacraments are not to be conceived as the only principle¯of sanctification. Experiences in the ÷ ÷ Religious Li]e VOLUME 24, 1965 gean Galot, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 514 life of the Church and in the individual lives of saints reveal the importance of extrasacramemal grates, and the .numerous divine interventions in humhn history not be limited to the. sensible signs which ,constitute .the seven sacraments. There is no inferiority implied for. the religious life in its inability to be traced to a. sacramental origin. There would be no p0intl in drawing.a comparison with the priestly state, a reality of a.different order. The priesthood regults from a sacrament because it is destined to assume liturgical and pastoral functions. within the Church. To fulfill such functions is not 'the purpose of the religious life. Let.it suffice to mention that the two states are united in the case of many religious. They cannot, consequently, be opposed. . On the other hand, the comparison of the religious and marriage states is legitimate. Why is the first a sacra-m~ nt while the latter is not? If one recalls that the Councilof Trent proclaimed the superiority of the state of virginity oyer that of marriage, it may appear sur-prising that virginal consecration is not the object of a sacramental ceremony. Yet the very reason for the superiority of virginity enables us to glimpse a response to our problem. Virginity tends to realize the nuptials of Christ and-the Church directly, while marriage is only. a sign of this union, realized through the media~ tion of the human person of the partner. Profession attaches the ~eligious to Christ Himself as .the Spouse. It is therefore through plenitude not default that pro-fession is not a sacrament~ As a sign or symbolof Christ and the Church, marriage is a sacrament; as a reality of nuptials in which Christ becomes the authentic Bridegroom, virginal consecration is not a sacrament. Profession is not of the order of a sign but that of the reality signified. It thereby anticipates the future life where there will be no sacraments because the sign.s will hax;e.given way to the spiritual reality they represen.ted. Thus while marriage symbolizes the union of Christ and the Church in view of the latter's realization through human intermediaries~ virginal life accomplishes this union directly through anticipation of the celestial life. From this viewpoint, virginal consecration can be con- .sidered paralle! to martyrdom. What is called the bap-tism of blood goes beyond the sacrament: it is no longer a sign of the death of Christ but the reality of this death as lived by the disciples of Jesus. Rather than being a symbol of the passage from death to resurrection, it accomplishes this passage to blessed immortality. Vir-ginal life, through a kind of death to the flesh, inaugu-rates the passage to the immediate possession of the Groom in spiritual intimacy. Hidden Holiness and Bearing Witness In characterizing ~he ieligious life's .essential role in the Church, there is frequently a tendency to evaluate it in terms of testimony given: as a result of their con, secration, religious are called ~ost especially ~o bear witness to Christ, to. His sanctity,.His charity, His ¯ chastity, His obedience, His' apostolic zeal. We gran.t that this witness value is of considerable importance, but it .is not primordial. Testimony a~ises from. the .visible aspect which the religious life must assume, and it manifests the .exterior influences re-sulting from this visibility. But the first contribution of religious life is invisible, fulfilling a role which can be called ontological and helping to nourish and to develop the very reality of the Church. It is the Church's hidden sanctity which is enriched by religious life,-the secret union of the Church with Christ consummated ¯ by virginal consecration. The Church's invisible apos-tolic, efficacy is increased by the prayers, sacrifices, and the other activities which the religious state entails. One must consequently avoid restricting the problems of religious life within the narrow perspective of testi-mony. It may happen that poverty in certain institutes is profound and genuine, and yet scarcely any witness value may be apparent as a result of circumstances or some particular feature of observance. The fidelity of a chaste heart is interior; numerous acts of charity and obedience in religious life are not visible to ChriStians outside the cloister, and these acts should not become public. A certain preoccupation with testimony is legiti-mate, but it should neither diminish nor obscure the more essential will to live in all sincerity the demands of the consecrated life under the eyes of the Savior alone in "order to belong more exclusively to Him. Ex-cessive concern for testimony could lead to the erection of a facade at the expense of the humble construction of the reality of the Church. Furthermore, the contribution of the consecrated life to the holiness of the Church enlightens the religious as to his ecclesial respomibility. It should quicken his conscience to the.repercussions of his mo~t secret life within the. Church; even those acts which are witnessed by no one are destined to-sanctify humanity, to enrich the Church as a whole. The existence of. a ~eligious makes, no sense except within the framework of con-structing the Mystical Body of Christ. This activity should be first of all hidden and silent. Witness value follows as the second feature of the religious' contribution, to the sanctity Of the Church. It is this visible aspect, .the aspect of the sign,, which has inclined theologians to refer to the religious life as a + + + ¯ Religious Li]e VOLUME 241 1965 515 4. 4. 4. Jean Galot, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS "saci'ament." r There is no doubt that in the Church. the religious life contributes a f~ndamental.kind of witness. It is of a nature which ~timulates Christians in their efforts toward~ holiness and influences non-Christians by rendering them sensitive to the force of the evangelic.al message. This testimony is above all concerned with the abso-luteness of God. The consecrated life gives .eviden.ce that God .deserves to be loved above all things--to the point that man should 'abandon all to adhere to Him and to promote the extension of His kingdoha. It. is also a witness to prayer, especially in the con-temPlativelife, bu~ in. the active religious life as well. At a time when the value of man tends to be measured in terms of the visible efficacy of action, it is important that special attention be given to prayer. The testimony of communities established on the basis of Christ's charity encourages other Christians to place no limit on. love for one another. And there is the test!mony Of poverty, chastity, and obedience, as witness which encourages lay people in their journey on the road of detachment and unselfishness, of conjugal, chas-tity, and of submission to Church authorities. Finally, there is the witness value of apostolic' activity Which. stimulat.es .zeal throughout the entire Christian com-munity. This reaction is apparent today in many mis-sionary fields where laymen in ever-increasing numbers are following the example given by religious. The Value of Religious Life and Adaptation While attempting to establish the place of the religious state in the life of the Church, We have answered in global fashion the questions, raised in the introduc-tion to this article. We shall now summarize the im-portant points to .bring the answers sharply into focus. It is true that laymen should pursu, sainthood. We are to rejoice that the Christian layman today is in, creasingly conscious of the nobility Of his state and the demands of' perfect.ion which this role entails. In addi-tion, according to Christ's plan, a more complete form of holiness, that of the consecrated life, is necessary the Church and must develop within her. The Gospel call: "Come follow me" is ceaselessl~ repeated in all ages to attract certain of the faithful to .make a fundamental contribution to the formation and expansion of the Church. Direct union with the. Savior is irreplaceable. ' It can be achieved by the complete abandonment of goods and family, the consecration Of all one's forces ~ See J. M. R. Tillard, O.P., "Religious Life, Sacrament of God's Presence" and "Religious Life, Sacrament of God's Power," REVIEW FOR RELigiOUS, V. 23 (1964),'pp. 6-14; 420-32. and activities to the apostolate. These actions are facil-itated by community life founded exclusively on the love of Christ. Since marriage is to be considered the sign of the nuptials of Christ and the Church, all the importance which is legitimately attributed to this sign also en-hances the value of the religious life where.the nuptials with the divine Spouse become a reality. Souls who ardently search for the presence of the Savior can find Him through a human intermediary, but Christ is en-countered more dynamically through the direct adher-ence of virginal consecration. The two approaches are on a different level: the religious life anticipates here on earth that possession of Christ without an inter-mediary as it will be accorded in the celestial state. As for apostolic services, laymen can assume them on a basis of equality with religious insofar as exterior action and efficiency are concerned. But nothing can re-place that holiness in the service of the apostolate re-sulting from the consecration of one'~ entire being to the Lord. Wherever apos.tolic activity is animated by a more complete love of Christ and a more devoted love of neighbor, it acquires a superior value and its invisible apostolic efficacy ig considerably increased. If we keep in mind that the apostolate is a means of com- 'municating holiness, the role that the consecrated person is to play in the Church's apostolic life becomes imme-diately evident. His contribution cannot be considered as the mere equivalent of that of other Christians. The apos-tolate is to be judged according to its soul rather than its external works. Religious institutes are making a great effort towards adaptation. It is hoped that these efforts will pro, duce a vital thrust towards encounter with contemporary hu-manity. That such an effort may require painful sacri-fices of those religious who are imbued with traditional practices is readily conceivable, but the generosity ¯ characteristic of the religious state is capable of making sacrifices. Thanks to such a spirit we can hope that the re-ligious life will occupy that vital role within the Church and the marketplace which our Lord accorded it. 4. 4- 4. VOLUME 24, 1965 JEAN DANIELOU, S.J. The Placeof Religious in the Structure of the Church Jean Dani~lou, S.J.; 15, Rue Mon-sieur; Paris 7, France, is professor of theology at the Institut Catholique of Paris. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 518 One* might wonder why the Council in The Constitu-tion on the Church treats religious life along with the hierarchy and the laity. The reasons for this are pastoral. Religious, men and women, contemplatives or mis-sionaries, are in fact an essential component part of the Church. The eminent place which women occupy in the Church is particularly under the form of religious life. Besides, inasmuch as religious life is a total consecra-tion to God, it appears as more than ever necessary in a world which tends to construct itself outside of God, because without worship the world of the future would be an inhuman world. Finally, from the ecumenical point of view, the neglect of religious life by the Council would be incomprehensible in view of the fact that it has always held a respected place in the OrthodoxI world and that Protestantism is now rediscovering it. But these reasons would not be absolutely decisive if religious life did not constitute an essential part of the structure of the Church. Furthermore, the primary ob-ject of the Council is, as Pope Paul reminded the Fathers in opening the second session, to give the Church the opportunity to define her structure. If religious life was only one form in the history of the universal vocation to holiness in the Church, it would be acceptable to treat it as such. But this precisely appears contrary to the whole tradition. Certainly all aspects of the Church are ¯ This article appeared originally in Etudes, February, 1964; it was translated by Sister M. Janet, c.s.J.; Archangel College; Engle-wood Cliffs, New Jersey. 1 See o. Rousseau, "Le r61e important du monachisme dans l'Eglise d'Orient," in II monachesimo orientale ["Orientalia christiana ana-lecta," n. 153] (Rome: Pontifical Institute of Oriental Studies, 1958). in a sense mutually shared: there is a universal priest-hood; there is a Universal interdependence of the Christian people; there~is a universal vocation to holi-ness. But each one of these aspects also presents its es-tablished form. This is true of the hierarchy and of the laity;, we wish to show that it is also true of the relig.ious state. The first question is that of the basis of the religious state in the New Testament itself. In reality there is no ¯ divine right to the structure .of the Church except inso-far as it rises from its institution by Christ and the Apostles at least in its beginnings. How does this affect our question here? This is the problemof the evangelical counsels. We must examine it rigorously. But first we must note that we are speaking here of the evangelical counsels in the strict sense, that is to say, not insofar as they mean a universal call to Christians to an evangeli-cal life of poverty, "chastity, and obedience, but insofar as they point out the proper means to realize this call, means which establish a particular state of life to which all are not called. What is there concerning this in the New Testament? ~ It does not seem that the three counsels, as held by traditional teaching, are on the same plane. Poverty ap-pears above all as the expression of the primacy of the kingdom of God which must be preferred to all else. And this disposition is eSsential to the Christian 'voca-tion. Nevertheless, the principle of poverty as expressed in" a particular state of life is clearly indicated. Hence, the words of ChriSt to the rich young man, even if they .express first of all the primacy of the Gospel over the Law, undoubtedly suggest also that the evangelical ideal can be expressed in the form of an effective renounce-ment of the possession of material goods which consti-tutes in itself a state of life which is more perfect. "If you will be pbrfect, go, sbH all that you have and follow me" (Mt 19:21). Like pove~'ty, obedience is first of all the expression of the primacy of the divine will. It finds incomparable expression in the obedience 6f the Son to the Father; and in this sense, it is the Christian vocation itself. But this obedience can also take the form of a renouncement of self, determination related to that particular resolu-tion of the divine will which is precisely the effective renouncement of property and of marri~ige and which is not demanded of all. It is in this sense that St. Paul speaks, concerning widows, that is, women consecrated to God, about fidelity. Indeed, he blames those women who have violated "the promise they have made" (1 Tim 5:12). Obedience appears then as the very form of a life consecrated to God inasmuch as-this life ex- 4. ÷ 4- Place o~ Religious VOLUME Z4, 196S 519 .÷ ¯ .lean Dani~lou, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS presses the definite promise to submit oneself to a cer-tain state of life rather than as a special observance which would be added to other states. This is then al-ready what will later become monastic obedience. And it is more obedience to a rule than to a person, the su-perior having only .the duty of being the guardian of the rule. Nevertheless, poverty and obedience as expressio.ns of a state in life are only. suggested by the New Testament. This is in contrast with virginity consecrated to God which is taught b'y Christ Himself as a mystery to which only certain souls are called. The disciples ask Jesus: "If such is the condition for marriage, it is better not to marry." And Jesus replies: "That conclusion cannot be taken in. by everybody, but only by those who have the gift" (Mt 19:10-1). Very clearly then, here is a special state which is not a component of the Christian vocation in itself. Elsewhere, it is about virginity that Paul uses the word counsel; and this is the only case where the word appears in this sense in the New Testament (1 Cor 7:25). The distinction between a commandment, which is addressed to everyone, and a counsel, which is a call from the Lord to some, is here clear. Furthei"more, the existence of virgins consecrated to God in the primitive Christian community is attested to by the New Testament. This is the case of the four daughters of the deacon Philip (Acts 21:9). The text says' precisely .that these virgins were prophesying. This description gives authority .to add another element to the matter of the New Testament origin of the religious state: virginity appears in connection with the charis-mata and so constitutes a link with the action of the Holy Spirit in the community. This fact is also attested by the Didache. Therefore, this charismatic aspect will remain a characteristic of the religious state. The fathers Of the desert and the stylites are charismatics. The great religious orders are of charismatic origin. They witness the liberty of the Spirit in the heart of the Christian community. Benedict, Fr.ancis, Dominic, Ignatius, and Teresa are. expressions of the charismatic action of the Spirit in the building of the' Church alongside her hierarchical action. The orders which they founded are the necessary institutionalization of these charismata to assure the permanence of their presence in the Church. Therefore, the New Testament attests to the existence of a state of life consecrated to God, related to the charismata, and expressing itself above all in virginity. But does this state constitute an order properly speak-ing, comparable to the laity or to the hierarchy? Theie is place for an objection here. It is evident that the New Testament includes a call to the practice of the evangel-ical counsels. But is. not this call something personal which can be addressed to clerics or to the laity and does not constitute a special order? In this case, it would be this call alone which would be primary and would have its source in the New Testament. The realization this call in the form of the religious state would only be an historical development. This question leads us to examine more closely the teaching of the New Testa-ment and of early tradition. This examination reveals to us the presence in local communities from the. beginning of: a special order, alongside the hierarchy and the laity, which is char-acterized by a total consecreation to God. In this sense, the New Testament speaks of a consecrated celiba6y, the order of widows (1 Tim 5:3-16). This order is Pa{allel to the order of presbyters (5:.17-20). Therefore it really was an order in the heart of the community. The function:of this order, from its origin, is that of the religious sta~e: "The woman who is. indeed a widow, bereft of all help, will .put her trust in God and spend ¯ her time, night and-day, Upon the prayers and petitions that belong to her state" (5:5). Later the place of the order of widows will be compared to that of an altar in the church.2 They represent that.continual prayer which is a pillar of the community parallel to the hierarchy and which still today makes up the irreplaceable char-acte~ of the contemplative life in the Church. BuL very early, the virgins 'who existed from the be-ginning 'in the community constituted also an order by virtue of their resemblance to that of the widows. Doubtless it is in this way that we must understand the word of Ignatius of Antioch, speaking of "virgins called 'widows.' " In any case, one 6f the most ancient rituals that we possess, the Apostolic Tradition of. Hippolytus of .Rome, which dates from the beginning of the third ¯ century and represents a much older state, enumerating the different orders of the Church, mentions virgins after priests and bishops, but before subdeacons and lectors,. A text of the same ritual distinguishes three categories in regard to the discipline of fasting: virgins and widows, laity, and bishops. No text is more clear on the distinction of the three orders.3 At the same period, at Alexandria, Clement and Origen give witness to the existence of an order, of virgins and of ascetics. Therefore it is certain that, in the words 6f Plus XII, "according to the apostolic fathers and the oldest ec- ~P~lyca~:p, Letters, 8, 2. 8 See J.-M. Hanssens, La liturgie d'Hippolyte ["Orientalia christi-ana analecta," n. 155] (Rome: Pontifical Institute of Oriental Studies, 1959), pp. 153 and 372. Place ot Religious VOLUME 24, 1965 52! ]ean Dani~lou, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS . --- clesiastical writers, it can be easily established that in different churches,' the followers of a life of perfection constituted an order and a class in the society." 4 At first, this state of virginity" or celibacy was lived in the local church community where it constituted a special group. Beginning in the fourth century with Anthony, the ascetics separated themselves from the community and retired into solitude; hence, the ,her-mit's. life was identified with the practice of the coun-sels. Soon, others, following Pachomius and Basil, organized communities of ascetics and began the cenobiti-cal life. These two constituted, arid continue to .consti-tute in the Orient, the monastic order formally distinguished from the hierarchy and from the laity. This appears in a manner particularly clear in the Ecclesiastical Hierarchy of pseudo-Dionysius the Areop-agite at the end of the sixth century; in this' work, monastic life is treated at length as an order in the Church along with th~ hierarchy. In the West, religious life developed in multiple ways according to constitu- ¯ tions approved by the Church, but everywhere and al-ways, "the .public profession of the evangelical counsels was counted among, the three principal ecclesiastical orderL" 5 What is fundamentM is that throughout all these de-velopments the effective, practice of the evangel!cal counsels has always been presented under the form of an "order," having its own law in the Church whether it is a question of "widows" of an apostolic community or .of religious congregations today. The forms of the "ordo" have been very diverse. They continue this di-versity today, from.the orders with solemn vows to the secular institutes. But if we look at them from the theological instead of the canonical point of view, we see that these forms spring from the same source in the Church. This definition of the practice of the evangelical counsels as a rule in itself is ~xpressed by the. fact that the Church does not consider it as legitimate except when she recognizes it; evidence for this can be seen even as .far back as .Ignatius of Antioch Where he says that anyone who wishes, to practice virginity must so advise the bishop. Hence, the practice of the evangelical counsels isestablished in.a state of life which has its own rights and duties. From this, we also understand the fact that the Church has always fought the tendency to generalize the effective practice of the counsels and to consider them as essential to Christianity.Such a tendency was very strong in the first centuries in partict~lar, and * Provida Mater, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 39 (1947), p. 116. B Provida Mater, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v: 39 (1947), p. 106. against it the Church has always defended marriage not only as legitimate, but also as constituting a real vocation to sanctity. In. fact, .she has always supported the ~ight to private property and to wealth. In this way, she set the foundation for an authentic.lay spirituality to be considered as develOping in line with the vocation of the laity in the Church .and not as a participation in the religious life as the only vocation to'sanctity. But at the same time, she als0 founds the religious state as a state of life in itself,-distinct from the laity and from. the priesthood not only by its function in the Church but also by its means to sanctity. Therefore, it is clear that the evangelical counsels can be partihlly lived outside the religious state since each aspect of the Church participates in some way with the others. But they are then a sort of equivalent to the religious state. In other words, the practice of the evangelical counsels is not bound to the essence of the lay state nor to that of the priesthood. On the contrary, it is bound 'to the essence of the religious state. So, it would be erroneous to speak of the vocation to the counsels as universal and to see in religious life only their principal form. This is. contrary to truth. It is the religious state which is the normal f.orm of.the practice of the counsels. Therefore, the religious state is the. proper object of a chapter on the counsels. The celibacy of priests in the Westei-n Church poses a special problem. I~ appears, in fact, to be distinct from a partial participation in the ideal of the counsels, and to be situated in a direct line with the vocation of the ¯ priesthood. Now, this vocation is defined above all as that of the pastor who gives his life for his flock. Celi-bacy appears here not considered in itself, as is the case for religious life, but as a consequence of priestly life in its fulfillment. That is why it is essentially in the study of the priesthood and its duties that celibacy is to be situated, not in the study of ~he effective practice of the evangelical counsels. The priestly celibacy would other-wise appear as an imperfect participation in something which religious practice more perfectly. To this point we have established that the origins of the religious state were instituted by Christ Himself and that the effective practice of the: evangelical coun-sels did indeed constitute a way.of life,, an "ordo," .dis-tinct from the laity and from the priesthood. It remains to show in what sense it is part of the structure of the Church. This is already apparent, in the facts. For Hippolytus of Rome, the order of virgins was part of the structure of the local Christian community. And this form of consecrated virginity may very well be re- + ÷ Place o] R~ligious " VOLUME 24~ 1965 523 4. .4. 4. lean Daniilou, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 524 .appearing in our day, as in'the case for the "Auxiliaires de l'apostolat." The religious state is recognized by canon law ag one of the three orderswhich make up the universal Church.° The experience of bishops attests that where monastic life does not yet exist, the Church has not established-firm roots. Then, too, it is char-acteristic of a living Church to bring forth vocation~ to a life of the counsels. On the other hand, it is clear that religiou~ life does not belong to the structure of the Church in the same way as the h!erarchy, although it is essential to that structure. First, it can be said that the religious state is not part of what is, strictly speaking, the condition re-quired for th~ existence of a Church. A Church cannot exist without priests who distribute the sacraments and the word of God nor without people to receive them. But the hierarchy and the Christian people are the minimal conditions. If we envisage the Church in her fullness, in her integrity, to quote Monsignor Weber, then it is necessarily composed of lives consecrated to God. These lattei; are the sign of the very flowering of the community. As long as they remain unborn, the community is not fully complete. And now we take up the characteristic of the aspect of the structure of the Church which corresponds to the religious state. It is concerned with the purpose of the Church which is holiness, as Plus XII wrote in the con-stitution Provida Mater.~ This purpose evidently con-cerns all Christians. But, it implies a communal expres- Sion which will manifest itself not only individually but also in the very structure of the Church. This purpose, which is perfect union with Christ and which will not be consummated until our life in heaven, is already visibly signified in religious life. That is why thb liturgical consecration of virgins symbolized, from the times of the first Christian community, the nuptials of Christ and the Church: ,lust as the hierarchy is the or-gan by which the life of the risen Christ is communi-cated through the sacraments--and withou't which this life would not be commhnicated--and just as the sacra-ments create a milieu of grace vhere holiness is possible, just so, the religious state is the expression of the perfec-tion ofthis holiness by creating conditions which favor the flowering of the gcaces given by the sacraments. But the purpose of the Church is not only the sancti-fication of Christians but the glory of God. Here again, the religious state, especiall~ under the monastic and contemplative form but also under the apostolic form,. ~ See also Provida Mater. Acta dpostolicae Sedis, v. 39 (1947), p. !16. r Provida Mater, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 39 (1947), p. 115. is the expression, at once communal and personal, of this end of the Church. Through the Divine Office, it perpetually represents the praying Church before the Trinity. It thus app.ears as a necessary function of the whole Body. "The Church," said Berdyaev, "cannot exist' without bishops and priests,~.bfit.she lives'and breathes through the martyrs and the ascetics." The Council is founded on the prayer of the Carmelites as much as on the authority of the bishops. This function of adora-tion appears even more vital for the Church and for the entire humanity as the world today separates itself from God and tends to smother itself in introversion. The function of monasteries as places of recollection is even more necessary for lay people as they are more involved in the world. Finally, another function of religious life is its eschatalogical significance. It appears as a foretaste of the life of glory that lies beyond our terrestrial tasks. In this sense it constitutes a reminder to men, engaged in earthly cares, of their real end. By detachment from riches, from pleasures, and from ambitions, it shows that worldly goods are not reality; it turns our gaze to-ward heavenly goods. Here again, the intensity of the religious life will determine its effectiveness as a coun-terbalance to worldly attractions. In ce}tain epochs, its attractiveness was such that it magnetized even the most powerful energies. It represents an advance guard of the Church which the laity needs to maintain the difficult balance between a life absorbed by the tasks through which they sanctify themselves but which at the same time are a heavy burden on them. Having said this, we have defined the religious state in itself, but it remains irue that the religious state is no more separated from the tasks of the Church. than the priestly state or the lay state. In this sense r~ligious par-ticipate in numerous cases in the priesthood and in the episcopacy and hence are introduced into the hie~'- archical ministery; furthermore, women religious carry a large part of the responsibility for building up the universal Church in their work of the apos.tolate, espe-cially to women. It is impossible to define limits in an absolutely rigorous way. But this is why it is first of all necessary to distinguish definitively the "states." It is in the measure that the religious state is first of all recog-nized in its nature, its function, and its own mission, that its participation in the communal life of the Church will be manifested more easily. 4- Place ot Religious VOLUME 24, 1965 SISTER HELEN JAMES JOHN, S.N.D. Rahner on Roles in the Church + 4. Sister Hden James John, S.N.D., is stationed at Trin-ity College; Wash. ington, D.C. 20017. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Recent discussion on all sides points toward a general redistribution of responsibilities in the life of the Church. Laymen are taking on tasks previously re-served to the clergy, as theologians, missionaries, leaders in Catholic Action; they are increasingly consulted in matters of Church teaching and government. Women are less and less silent in the Church as the days go by; they have gained admiss, ion~ to the ~anks of the theolo-gians, petitioned for their own representatives at the Council, even attracted serious theological attention to the question of giving them holy orders. The Council itself has given greater dimensions to the office of bishop and may well authorize a married diaconate in some parts of the world, and in the Western Church we have seen a few real instances and heard a vast amount of discussion of married priests. In the United States the active orders of women have long been running their own aggiornamento through the Sister Formation Movement and the Association of Major Superiors, and of late they have been exhorted by Cardinal Suenens to realize more fully their position as "auxiliaries of the clergy" and called on by Michael Novak to enter the mainstream of secular life. When sweeping changes are to be made, it is pecu-liarly important that the people making them should understand the.meaning and purpose of the institutions to be changed. In the matter of roles in the Church it has long been customary to appeal too the definitions of canon law; this will no longer suffice, for the ongoing discussion looks precisely to effecting changes in that law. What we need now is a theological perspective; and this is precisely what Karl Rahner has to offer. From his numerous, often technical, essays and conferences, we can assemble the main lines of a coherent and illumi-nating theology of vocations. This doctrine will not pro- vide cut and dried solutions ' to our current problems; Rahner endears himself to our own generation by his willingness to raise questions to which the answers are not indexed in Denzinger. But he can help us mightily to see just what is at stake in the decisions which must be made. Rahner's key principle iia this area is universal and unequivocal: "Through sacramental consecration and empowerment every Christian, in the Church is consti-tuted, qualified, and in duty bound to a position and task of active co~esponsibility and work inside and out-side theChurch." l~His further explorations into the meaning of the layman's situation, the official hier-archical apostolate of the clergy, and the eschatological witness proper to the religious are all to be understood as explications of this central theme. Layman, cleric, and religious alike are active members of the Church, called ¯ to take their special parts in the Church's.own task-- to make manifest in .the world the victorious coming of God's grace from on high. All the functions of all Christians are encompassed in the unique function of the Church herself which is to .be "the body of Christ, the enduring, .historical presence of His truth and grace in the world, the continuing efficacy of the incarnate Word in the flesh." What distinguishes the layman from the cleric or the religig.us is that he keeps, as his permanent life-situation, the place in the world which is his independently of and prior to his membership in the Church. This place in the wo~rld is determined by the individual's historical situation, his nation and,family, his natural abilities and interests. What constitutes him as a layman is the fact that he retains this place in the world for his Christian existence. By baptism, the layman is commissioned to bear witness; precisely in this place, "to .the truth, of God, to God's fidelity, and to the hope of eternal life." This means that the life-task of the layman cannot be conceived in terms merely of organized religion--Holy Name Sunday, fund-raising, and the like. It must be seen as the revolutionary realization that he is called to manifest the truth and the love of Christ in all the dimensions of his life--in his family, his profession, his participation in the political and cultural life of his community. His pla~e in the world provides the material for his Christian existence and lays upon him a respon, ~ibility which no one can assume in his stead. The special mission of the layman, then, will be found not in Catholic Action but in the action of Catholics; his fundamental obligations come to him not "from 1 Nature and Grace, trans. Dinah Wharton (London: Sheed and Ward, 19~3), p. 87. Italics Rahner's. ÷ ÷ ÷ Roles in the ¯ Church VOLUME 24, 1965 527. 4. 4. Sister Helen .lames $ohn, $.N.D. REVIEW FOR REIAG~OUS above," from the hierarchy, but "from below," from the requirements of his being in the world. The widening horizons of human experience--the secular sciences/the arts, technology, political life--are today calling for a ¯ radically new kind of Christian response. For ih a completely new historical sense, the "world" has, really only now, begun to exist, i.e. the world which man him-self has brought forth out of n~iture; ultimately, this world can be christianized only by the one who has fashioned it, viz. the layman.' This Christianizing of the temporal constitutes the "lay apostolate" in Rahner's strict sense of the term--a mission in the life of the Church for which the layman. possesses real autonomy and the strict duty of leader-ship. And it follows from this definition that the lay apostolate cannot be organized from above by a kind of ecclesiastical "state socialism." There are, and there should be, associations of lay Catholics by which they seek to aid each Other in the accomplishment of their mission; but the nature of the task itself rules out the possibility of its being mapped out in detail on an a priori basis. Hence there, is need for whav Rahner terms "a supernatural existential ethics," which recognizes not only the validity of abstract moral principles but also the direct claim of God upon the unique personal re-sponse of the Christian in his concrete situation. Among the practical consequences which Rahner draws from this view of the layman's vocation, two perhaps 'are of special interest and relevance. The first is posi-tive: There .is need for full recognition of the autonomy of the layman in those areas where his proper mission lies. To use Rahner's own example: Conscientious laymen who are editors of magazines should not have to ~sk themselves, as apprehensively as is sometimes the ¯ case, whether the opinions expressed in their periodicals are are agreeable to those in high places or not? Negatively, the limit of the layman's proper mission is set by his being-in-the-world. The work of th~ lay aposto-late is not, essentially, the work of recruiting, convert-ing, warning, or exhorting (which work is characteristic of the official hierarchical mission), but the dynamic witness of his own Christian life. The formation for this apostolate thus consis~s not in the kind of drilling geared to train aggressive militants of a basically "Salva-tion Army" type, but education for the vital interior Christianity which alone can express itself in the witness of an authentically lived Christian life. ~ Theological Investigations, v. 2, trans. Karl H. Kruger (Balti-more: Helicon, 1964), p. 349. ~ Theological Investigations, v. 2, p. 351. ¯ In contrast to the layman, the "cleric" is one whose basic and permanent life-task lies in the hierarchical ministry of the Church, that ministry which represems, in and for the Church, "Christ's po.sition as Lord in relation to the people of the Church." The. cl~ri~ shares in the mission and the power to form Christians' and to maintain and strengthen the Christian community. For the sake of this mission,' the "official" apostle must be sent out. He is called to give up his original place in the world, to leave:his nets and house and lands; .for his apostolic mission claims his whole existence. He 'is sent to spaces and dimensions of human existence which are not naturally his own; and to these he brings his mes-sage not simply as bearer of his own Christianity, but as the messenger of .Christ who must deliver his message not only in ~eason but also and especially out of season. This concept of the official hierarchical ministry, it should be noted, is considerably wider than that which limits it to men in holy orders. Edward Schillebeeckx, O.P., for. example, regards deacons, priests, and bishops as the only partic!pants in the hierarchical ministry. In Rahner's analysis, ho.wever, this ministry involves the exercise of two distinct types of power: the sacramental, "priestly" powers communicated by ordination and the ¯ "prophetic" power~ of ruling and teaching in the Church. In the divinely instituted office of bishop, the two ai'e inseparable; the bishop is at once high :priest and successor to the "Apostles. Yet in other instances, Rahner maintains, these powers can be separated and subdivided. The test case which he uses '~o clarify this point is that in which a layman should be elected pope: possessing by his election the plenitude of the power of jurisdiction, he could hardly be said to remain a lay-man while awaiting ordinationt The practical consequence of this theoretical position is that all who actually share either in the power of orders or in the mandate of ruling and.teaching are to be considered as ~'clerics." The official ministry is not then limited to priests. Catechists, missiona.ries, and theologians, women as well as men, married people as well as celibates, receive with their apostolic mission a new status within the Church. Certain limitations On the pow0:s which a woman may exercise arise from the fact that in the higher offices (that is, the episcopate) the powers of orders and of jurisdiction are noimally joined. And Rahner sees the restriction of holy orders to men as a matter of divine institution.4 On the other hand, the celibacy of priests in the Western Church is to be understood as the taking over of an essential ~ See Theological Investigations, v. 2, p. 321. However, lately there have been rumors that Father Rahner has changed his mind. Roles in the Church VOLUME.24; 1965 529 4. 4. 4. Sister Helen ]ames John, S2V.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS aspect of the religious life rather than as a quality of the priesthood as such. This view of the hierarchical apostolate looks toward an increasingly clear and officially constituted .diversity of ministries among the. "clergy," for the accomplish-ment of tasks which lie beyond the ~cope. of the lay apostolate as defined above. The rule which Rahner introduces here is simple but often overlooked: "If someone is entrusted with a task, he should be allowed to fulfill it" (Rahner's italics). And he goes on to. ex-press the hope that as efforts are made to act upon this ¯ rule, we shall see the gradual disappearance of the in-stinctive tendency of priests to lord it over their non-ordained colleagues in apostolic work. As this occurs ¯ and as areas of responsibility become more clearly de-fined, it should become less difficult to recruit mature and qualified Christians for professional engagement in Catholic Action "and other ecclesiastical endeavors. Nor does Rahner limit this suggestion to the filling, of gaps in the lower echelons arising out of the shortage of priests. He would like to see people today who would play the same role in the Church as ,did, iri their time, Tertullian, Origen, Clement of Alexandria, and 'Cathe-rine of Sienal" As the layman's task is to bear witness to Christ pre-cisely in and through the ,activities of hissecular life by the loving and faithful ac.complishment of duties which have their .own natural significance, so the spe-cial calling of the religious is t6 make manifest .in his life the transcendent and eschatological dimensions of divine grace. The kingdom of God has already come in Christ; and the center of Christian life, even while we await. His coming in glory; has been set beyond this world. Thus, to be true 'to her own essence, the Church must present herself as having here no abiding city~ as awaiting the x;eturn of her Lord. This aspect of the Church comes to realization, as it were sacramentally, in communities of religious. Religious Orders are a social expression of the charismatic and'enthusiastic element in the Church. a representational part of the victorious grace of God that has come into the world, which draws man beyond the field of his own possibilities and incorporates him into the life of God himself? Since the eschatol6gical dimension, of Christianity consists precisely in the fact that the Christian's life is centered beyond the realm of natural values and mean. ings, the realm directly accessible to human experience, it cannot manifest itself in natural morM activity. For such activity expresses the natural perfection of man's own being; thou.gh this .may be .inwardly divinized by "The Motives of Poverty," Sponsa Regi,~, v. 33 (1962), p. 349. grace, itcannot of itself show forth, outwardly the transcendent love by which it is informed. The only possible human manifestation of this aspect of grace is found in the renunciation of positive and .lofty natural values ."for the sake of the Kingdom." It is' of the es-sence of the evangelical cduns~ls that th6y cannot be .justified within the framework of a natural morality;. tO sacrifice, the possession of m~terial goods, the noble . joy of marriage, and One's own personal autonomy Would be sheer madness if the meaning of man's life were to be realized within this world. The special .role of the re-ligious in the Church. is thus, in the famous words of Cardinal Suhard, "to be a living mystery, to live in such a way that one's life would not make sense if God did not exist." By religious profession, then, a Christian does not add a properly new vocation to the common, vocation which all receive in baptism. Rather, he binds himself by vow to live out, even externally, at all the levels of his life and in its total meaning, that entrance into the redeem-ing death of Christ which is begun for every Christian in baptism and which is at last achieved by God's grace in his death in Christ. The religious wills to express outwardly in the concrete circumstances of his life his inward assent to the constant prayer of the first Christians: "Let grace'come and let this world pass awayl" Accordingly,. he makes his desire to die with Christ, to become a fool for Christ's sake, the central factor in the existential shaping of his life. The vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience derive their total meaning from the invitation of Christ to come follow Him; they are rooted and grounded in His proclama-tion of the kingdom. In consequence, Rahner has little use for all those considerations, beloved of spiritual writers, which would recommend the counsels, to us as the avoidance of dangers to the practice of virtue or as the "heroic" moral achievement of something more perfect simply because more difficult. The only justification for the religious life lies in its concrete expression of the act of faith in the coming of God's grace from on high. Thus, religious poverty is meaningful only insofar as it fosters a radical readiness for the kingdom of God. By selling his goods and giving the proceeds to the poor, the Christian expresses his belief in the kingdom which unites all men in brotherhood and love; he gives visible testimony to his recognition that God's grac~ is the only ultimate fulfillment of human life. The same essential motive and meaning lies at the heart of consecrated virginity. Rahner rejects without hesitation any proposal to regard virginity in itself as a 4- + Roles in the Church VOLUME 24, 1965 53! 4" 4. 4. Sister Helen ]ames John, S.N.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS self-evident ideal. The vow of chastity has its source in sacred history, in the virginity of the Mother of God, of whom he.writes: Her virginity, and the origin of our Lord without an earthly father, signify one and the same thing, not in.words, but in easil~ unddrstood terms of human life: God is the God of freely bestowed grace, who cannot be drawn down from on high by all.our endeavors, whom we can only receive as the inexpressibly freely given gift of himself.6 The celibacy of the religious is m~ant to give existential expression to an inner altitude of expectation, of recep-tivity, of awaren(ss that Ultimately only God's free.ly given grace is important. Likewise, in this context, religious, obedience is by no means a canonization of the natural virtue in the ab-stract as the simple willingness to execute the will of.an-other. Nor does it in a0y way relieve the subject of responsibility for what he does; an act is no less the sub-ject's own for hav!ng been comrfianded. Rather, the vow of obedience relates to the totality of the life of the counsels; by it a man accepts a permanbnt life-form giving him a Godward orientation. What is at stake here. is not simply thb readiness to carry out particular com- .mands but the free decision to embrace a life that is not primarily concerned with the tangible realiza-tion of worldly objectives, but which through faith makes the expectation, of hidden grace the ground of existence, and trans, lates this faith into act. The man who accepts obedience as the authentic out-ward expression of his faith in Christ makes of his whole life a practical anticipation of the situation in which every Christian faces death-~the command of God to move on and to leave all, to allow ourselves in faith to be ab-. sorbed in the great silence of God, no longer to resist the all-embracing nameless destiny which rules over'us.7 Thus the whole life of the religious is meant to be a visible participation iia the death of Christ. Just as no one can replace the layman in his task of manifesting the presence of God's grace in the various spheres of secular life, so no one can replace the religious in his witness to the world-transcending character of that grace. Thus Rahner is clear in his opposition.to any practical proposal which would abandon the e~chato-logical witness of the vows for the sake of greatex~ effi-ciency even in apostolic tasks. The lived manifestation of transcendent grace is no less essential to the life of the Church than is the preaching of the Gospel; nor 6Mary, Mother of the Lord (New York: Herder and Herder, 1963), p. 69. 7 "Reflections on Obedient:e," Cross Currents, v. 10 (1960), p. 374. may we assume that all tasks which must be accom-plished by the Church ought ipso facto to be accom-plished by religious communities. On the other hand, the celibacy even of diocesan priests in the West and the apostolic work actually done by religious communities do manifest an inner'connection, though not a neces-sary connection, between the religious and the clerical vocations. In the Ignatian spirituality common to so many active congregations of men and women today, the ideals of "indifference" and of "seeking God in all things" are firmly rooted in the ground of the monastic tradition. Far from evading the folly of the cross, these ideals give radical recognition to God's transcendence by requiring from the religious a readiness to follow the call of God's will wherever it may lead, to have in grim practice no abiding city--not even in the. stability of the monastery. The specific details of the life of religious-- like the life of all Christians--will be shaped by the demands of individual or communal vocation; but they will fail in their dominant purpose if they do not make visible and convincing a rugged and radical Christian nonconformity to the standards of this world. It hardly need be pointed out that the line between these vocations are fluid and that each represents by its special witness factors which are essential in every Christian life. Thus every Christian must," in some measure, lead a life both of humanly meaningful ac-tivity and of supernaturally motivated renunciation; laymen may be entrusted, temporarily or on a part-time basis, with properly clerical tasks, such as those of the CCD instructor or of the subdeacon at a high Mass. The celibate priests of the West and the active congre-gations of men and women (most of whom, under Rahner's definitions, would seem to qualify as "clerks regular") unite in their lives in permanent fashion the apostolic mission of the cleric and the eschatological witness of the religious. In a host of situations, layman, cleric, and religious are called to collaborate in the achievement of the same end--that is, the total educa-tion of Catholic youth or the solution of social problems. And by the unity of laity, clergy, and religious, not only in the sacramental unity of worship but in their visible collaboration in the life of the Church, the Church achieves even at the levels of everyday moral and social existence a quasi-sacramental showing-forth ofthe inner meaning of all Christian life--divine love, ever filling the whole world and ever pointing beyond it to the world to come. Roles in the Church VOLUME 24, 1965 533 KEVIN D. O'ROURKE, O.P, Revising Canon Law for Religious Father Kevin D. O'Rourke, O.P., is Dean of Theology at the Aquinas In-stitute of Theology; St. Rose Priory; Du-buque, Iowa 52002. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 534 What* policies and principles should govern the forthcoming revision of the canon law for religious? What changes must be made in the law to enable religious to better accomplish their role in the work of renewal within the Church? Changes in law should be made only for the betterment of the common good, and they should flow from principles which are invoked to correct weaknesses or problems in organization or activity which are harming the efforts directed toward the com-mon good. An honest appraisal of the present day struc-ture of religious communities, of their apostolic efforts, and of the attitude many religious have toward law, re-veals problems and attitudes which seriously endanger the efforts religious are making to sanctify themselves, the Church, and its people. By openly recognizing and ac-knowledging these attitudes and problems, the principles which will correct and solve them may be found; and these are the principles which should govern the revi-sion of the canon law for religious. ~ Even the casual observer realizes that one grave prob-lem in religious communities is a lack of respect for the law. Canon law, and the canon law for religious in particular, has fallen into ill repute. In the period since World War lI, a spirit has :arisen which seeks to belittle Church law. By many, canon law is equated with "mere 1.egalism"; and a dichotomy between the law of the Spirit and the written law of the Church is often proclaimed or intimated. To a great extent, this attitude flows from, or at least coincides with, a general spirit of disrespect toward all authority. But on the other hand, there seems to be a definite shortcoming in the canon law itself which may occasion and promote this attitude. ¯ This is the text of a talk given to a group of midwest religious canonists at a two-day conference held at the Passionist Retreat House in Detroit,' Michigan during Christmas week, 1964. Adaptation of religious communities to present-day mentalities and needs of the apostolate is another serious problem calling for revision of the law for religious. One doubting that the organization and apostolate of religious communities are attuned to successful modern apostolic activity, need only consult the writings of the last four popes. Time and time again, they have called for adaptation of the-structure, mentality, and apostolic activities in line with the needs of contemporary so- Ciety and with the mind of the founder.Just as the Church, through Vatican .Council II, seeks to evaluate and update its o~ganization and activity, so religious communities should bring about themodifications which will enable them to do their work well in the contempo-rary world. With the Church, religious.communities are in need of apostolic renewal. The modifications in organization and apostolic ac-tivity which, religious communities .must make can be ~uccessfully accomplished only through a revision in the law. True, a 9hange in attitude has already occurred in many religious and many religious communities. Some individuals and some religious groups have al-ready made. the adaptations which renewal demands. But the common good, the good of all communities and all individuals, can be assured only through a change in the law. Therefore, religious communities will not be truly renewed, nor will they fulfill their potential in the Church, until their laws are renewed in accord with the needs of the apostolate. A consideration of.the cultural .pattern presently ex-isting in the United States reveals another distressing situation. Religious are not influencing the minds of men as strongly and dramatically as they should. In former times, religious were. among the intellectual leaders of. their society. Often they were the best edu-cated people in the community; even if their thought was rejected, it was at least well known. Those who did not agree with them were aware of them; and before acting contrary to the opinion of the ~eligious thinkers they had to attack and, .if possible, refute their opinion. Hence many and bitter arguments and disputes arose between secular and religious figures. Today, however, our teaching.draws no such attacks; it can be ignored as the doctrine of people who are not in touch with the times. SecuIar thinkers.n0 longer bother to refute the thought 0f religious thinkers; they merely declare it ir-relevant to the important matters of life.~ The point is not to deprecate or criticize in any way the energy, zeal, or apostolic spirit of" the many dedicated religious 1 Hence the theme of Dietrich von Bonhoeffer in Letters From Prison and of John A. T. Robinson. in Honest to God. 4. + Rcoising Canon VOLUME 24i 1965 ÷ ÷ Keoin D. O' Rourke, O~P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS men and women working in America today. But on the other hand, if we reflect that there are about two hun-dr~ d thousand religious men and women working for Christ in the United States, it'hardl~ seems that we are influencing the Catholic and non-Catholic community as'we should. We seem to be able to preserve the faith, but we are weak when it comes to enriching it or spread-ing it. In order to solve these briefly outlined problems which tend to destroy the vitality of religious communities and seriously hamper their apostolate, three principles must govern the revision of canon law for religious. Integration with Theology The first principle i~: Remove the de facto separation between canon law and theology. Competent theologians and canon lawyers, while allowing canon law its own rules of interpretation, always. recognized that canon law is an integral part of theology and, as such, subject to the more general principles of that science. In other words, competent Scholars have never forgotten the need for integration between these two sciences. Nonetheless, even these scholars have not insisted a!way~ upon this integration in practice, nor have they sufficiently im-pressed it upon others. Reintegrating canon law with theology does not mean ~hat we should change our present formof Church law or the rules of interpreation. Stating the finis legis in the law, or changing the brief manner in which it is now stated, would be a mistake. Our system of writing and interpreting laws has been worked out through trial and .error over th~ centuries; to tamper with it now would cause confusion and lead to further disrespect for the law. The reintegration of canon law and theology should be accomplished through a process of education. Pre-ceding the Code there should be a statement explaining canon law not as a burden but as an instruction given. us by the Mystical Body of Christ to lead us closer to our divine Savior. Our law should be explained as a fulfill-ment, rather than a limitation, of Christian liberty. In the Code itself, especially in the section De religiosis, there should be some kind of statement that canon law legislates only the minimum, the safeguards of Christian activity. A statement such as the following from Hiiring, for example, might serve to make clear in what sense observance of canon law fits the total Christian life. As lbve implies obedience, so it implies l~(w, and love and law are essentially and mutually interchangeable. Obedience of love is surely more comprehensive than mere legal obedience for" mere observance of law is the lowest degree of obedience. Mere legal obedience.is not yet in the shadow of love. External laws are no more than universal regulations and therefore basically only minimum requirements. Universal rules cannot in fact even prescribe what is highest and best, since the best is not universal and cannot be demanded of men universally. On the contrary love by its very nature strives for the highest and best and seeks the most perfect manifestation of its ideals in action. How can one who does not fulfill the minimum requirements of law progresstoward that which is higher and better? Since the minimum requirements ar~ basic for the fulfillment of the law of love, love may never violate or ignore the law. At the same time one who truly loves may not remain'at the lowest level of obedience and be satisfied with the bare legal minimum.' Moreover,' whenever fitting,' tracts of canon law should be introduced by theological texts, whether Biblical, systematic, or pastoral, . which clearly point out the inti-mate relationship between the observance of some par-ticular law and growth in the spiritual life. To maintain that the Code of Canon Law is directed to the salvation of souls when it seldom mentions spiritual motives or values is rather inconsistent. Just as the Fifth Book of the Code of Canon Law is more clearly understood within a spiritual framework by reason of the pastoral imroduction from the Council of Trent, so other tracts of the Code could be given greater definition and .pur-pose through Similar introductions. The encyclicals, the councils, the works of the Fathers and great' theologians, provide ample sources for these texts; and using them in the Code would demonstrate the historical .continuity of our present-day law. Placing these readings before the various tracts on law may not appeal to the legal mind, and there is little reason why it should. But we must realize that canon law cannot be judged only by legal standards alone; canon law is also pastoral theology, and therefore it must be presented in a way which makes it good theology as well as good law. . Through this approach, basically one .of education, many canonical instruments could be restored to proper perspective. The relationship of superior to subject, one that should be founded upon the relationship of Christ and Hi~ friends, would become clearer; the tensions between Secular and re.ligious clergy could be resolved in favor of a more effective apostolate; the observance of the vows would be more meaningful and make a much greater contribution to charity; the place of prayer ond the apostolate in the life of the individual religious could be more clearly understood and effec-tively realized; and many other p~oblems of policy and practice which trouble re.ligious communities today would at least be alleviated. ~ Bernard Hiiring, C.Ss.R., The Law of Christ (Westminster: New-man, 1961), w 2, p. 94. ÷ ÷ ÷ Revising ~,anon VOLUME 24, 1965 537 K~in D. O'Rourk~, O.P. REVIEW FOR RE£1GIOUS. 5~8 ¯ :$ubsidiarity. The second, principle might be stated as .follows: Apply the principle o[ subsidiarity to the government of religious communities. This principle requires, posi-tively, that the society which is the Church offer to the individual the help toward his goal which he Cannot provide for .himself, and negatively, that the Church so far as it is a society restrict itshelp and control in the areas where the individual carl provide for himself (W. Bertrams, S.J., "De pringipio subsidiaritatis in. iure canonico," Periodica, 46.[1957], p. 13). Abraham Lin-coln put the same thought this way: "Never let govetn-ment do for some one what he can do for himself"; and Pope John XXIII put this forward as one of the basic principles of good government (Pacem in Terris, n. 141). Clearly, insofar, as the Church is a governing body, this principle 'should be paramount, Religious communities, therefore, since they are legal .individuals, should be allowed'to direct and provide for themselves, insofar as is possible. Application of this principle does not mean that re-ligious communities should be completely auton6mous. There must b~ some contact and control exercised by the Holy See, especially over those communities that are directly subject to it, or else the common good would suffer. But the extent to which this control is now exer-cised far exceeds, the needs of good and responsible government. Consider, for example, the regulations in regard to alienation' and debts, the extent of the Quin-quennial Report and other regulations which through the O years have tended to centralize the governnient of religious in the Congregation of Religious. The concept of collegiality and the formation of na-tional episcopal conferences.are a reflection of the prin-ciple of subsidiarity and the fact that the Church is beginning to recognize the contribution of this principle toward good government. Applying this principle to the government of religious communities would pave the way for a national conference of religious .superiors which would have jurisdiction to coordinate and direct the apostolate of religious in accord with the general directives of the Holy See. Through a conference of religious superiors possessing jurisdiction, religious could be represented .in the national episcopal confer-ence; common pr6jects, such as testing and formation centers for candidates could be established; norms for combining existing theological, schools could, be out-lined; and the'rivalry and lack of contact which at present exists among religious communities to the detri-ment of the apostolate could be removed or at least alleviated, Even more important is the applicati~)n of this prin-ciple at the provincial level: In too many communities, especially in communities of religious women, there is a centralization of power in the provincial superior. In these communities, local superiors are not~ allowed to grant dispensations from the constitutions even for good reasons; and all appointments and permissions, even the more insignificant ones, are made by the .provincial su-periors. Local superiors, often mature people who would govern well, .are restricted to doing nothing that is "not in the book." Examples of the lack of subsidiarity are too well known to need repetition. Perhaps in times past there might have been some justification for such a con-centration of power; all. religious were not educated, and imprudent permissions might have resulted if too much power had been given ~o local superiors. But to-day, the religious vocation demands a degree of ma-turity in each individual; this maturity can be fostered 'and will. flourish only if subsidiarity is expressed in the general and particular laws for religious. Professional Competence The third principle is:. The active religious in the modern wo~ld must be a competent professional. This principle is perhaps the most important and far reach-lng of the three. Implicit in this principle is the need for a new mentalit~ insofar as the apostolic life of re-ligious is concerned. Moreover, realizing this principle requires that the formation o~ religious for the aposto- !ate be so ordered that greater stress is placed upon maturity than upon conformity. In the .past, profes-sional competence and the corresponding professional mode of organization which must be pre~ent to.produce professional competence were not so important because the society in which the Church existed and even flourished was not dominated by professionally compe-tent people. But now it is; the people who control ideas, the people with whom religious must compete for men's minds, are professionally competent and work in an atmosphere where the professional mode of organiza-tion dominates. Unless the Church integrates profes-sional competence into the total concept of the religious life, there will be no true adaptation of religious com-munities to meet the apostolic challenge of our times. Stressing the need for professional competence does not mean that religious should be judged solely by the technical exceUence with which they teach or. carry out. ¯ the apostolate. We all know that God accomplishes more through the virtuous than through those who are merely technically competent. No~ does it mean that all. re- Revising Canon. + ÷ ÷ Kevin ' D . O' Rour lw, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 540 ligious must have die ability-to do their professional work as well as their non-Catholic counterpart. But stressing professional competence does mean that we must adapt ~ new mentality, a mentality which will allow those who are able to. do so to excel as professionMs in their apostolic activities and thus have a much greater influence upon the minds of men.3 The mentality of professional competence is con-trasted to the present apostolic mentality of religious organizations by Joseph Fichter, S.J., in the following mann'er:4 Organization involves: 1. centralized leader-ship, 2. emphasis on procedure, 3. simp.lification of tasks, 4. little initiative, 5. corporate r.esponsibility, 6. imper-sonal relations, 7. ascribed status, 8. service to the system. The professional mode of organization, on the other hand, requires: I. leadership of expertness, 2. variabil-ity of proceduresl 3. totality of tasks~ 4. broad initiative, 5. personal responsibility, 6. close colleague relations, 7. achieved status, 8. service to the client (Religion as an Occupation; Notre Dame Press, 1961, p. 224). In other words, if someone becomes a competent professional in an apostolic religious community in America today; he or she does it in spite of the system not through and because of it. The apostolic spirit of the religious group. centers more .upon conformity than upon initiative. For this reason we have remained upon the fringe of those who influence society; at times one of our members may move into the influence group, that group of profes-sionals who are respected for their ability and wisdom; but we must all admit that this is not the ordinary case. What part of changing the apostolic mentality of re-lig! ous could canon law play? Changing a mentality, it seems, is accomplished only through non-legal means, for 'example, through an enthusiastic movement. Yet, any change in attitude or mentality, if it is to make a stable and lasting contribution to the common good, must be incorporated into the law. Enthusiasm may sur-vive and contribute to the common good for one genera-tion or two, but only through the law can we perma- 8 Notice ihat the need for a mentality of professional competence is confined to the apostolic effort of the community. The bureau-cratic mentality, or the stress.upon conformity, is necessary insofar as the common life is coficerned or else chaos would result in the ~ommunity. There will always be, therefore, a tension between con-formity and initiative in the life of an active religious, but it seems that in our time, the tendency to conformity has overcome initiative ¯ and hence apostolic life is severely hampered. ~Father Fichter states ihat the re.ligious mode of organization resembles thd bureaucratic, but in using this word he does not in-tend to convey the pejorative overtones that this word implies. Bu-reaucratic organization is necessary and good for some societies ~nd their activities but not, it seems, for the religious society in its apostolic effort. nently, maintain the benefits of enthusiastic movements. The liturgical movement, for example, changed the thinking of many in regard to the liturgy; But ~he change in mentality was 0nly put into .practical effect through the new law on the liturgy promulgated by Vatican Council II. Through ~he law, then, it must,be made clear that the training of religious should be so designed as to develop maturity.Supeiiors and subjects alike should be instructed in the need for personal responsi-bility and the development of initiative. By framing legislation which allows for~the development of profes-sional competence through rather than in spite of re-ligious life, we will most certainly assure that religious will adapt to present day needs of apostolic activity. This thinking is not foreign to the mind of the Holy Father. When speaking ab6ut renewal in the Church, Pope Paul VI said: Let us repeat once again for our common admonition, and profit, the Church will rediscover her renewed youthfulness not so much by changing her exterior laws as by interiorly assimilat-ing her true spirit of obedience to Christ and accordingly by ob-serving those laws which the Church prescribes for herself with the. intention of following Christ. Here is the secret of her renewal, here her exercise of perfec-tion. Even though the Church's law might be made easier to observe by the simplification of some of its precepts and by placing confidence in the liberty of the modern Christian with his greater knowledge ofhis duties and his greater maturity and wisdom in choosing the means to fulfill them, the law neverthe-less retains its essential binding force (Ecclesiam Suam). The significant words here are: "the Church's law might be made easier to observe by. placing confidence in the liberty of the modern Christian with his greater knowledge of his duties and his greater maturity and wisdom in choosing the means to fulfill them . " This principle is not restricted to lay people; it applies to religious as well. By stressing this note of personal responsibility in all laws which concern the discipline and training of religious, significant progress will be made in forming the type of apostle who will win the world for Christ. Arguing for the adaptation and implementation of this principle does not in any way mitigate the need for ready and prompt obedience to the mind of Christ; rather it increases it. Nor does this principle signify a departure from the traditional interpretation which pictures religious obedience as a conformation of the intellect as well as of the will of the subject to the intel-lect and will of the superior who takes the place of Christ. Neither does it propose a false dichotomy be-tween law and love as motives for observing the law, as some do. Nor does it naively imply that religious should 4- ÷ Reoising t~anon Law VOLUME 24, 1965 determine what course their training should take, as though those who are .in the process of training are al-ready mature religious. Rather, this principle seeks to stress that in the process of training, maturity and ini-tiative must be tho?oughly developed so that active re-ligious can carry the message of Christ in a way that will have great impa~t upon the world. In a word, the prin-ciple of professional competence opts for a system of formation and an active apostolate which will feature religious maturity integrated with religious obedience, an apostolate and formation that will depend more upon the initiative and personal responsibility of the individual religious [or fulfillment and perfection than upon conformity to the group or direction by a su-perior. These, then, are the three principles which seem to be basic in any meaningful revision of canon law. If the revisers o~ the Code are interested in putting patches upon an aged and venerable, garment, then principles of revision need not be discussed or applied; but if they wish to face the problems of religious life and the apostolate head-on, .if they wish to update and adapt canon law to modern needs and situations, then princi-ples such as those stated above should be used when re-vising the canon law for religious. Kevi. D. O'Rour/~, OJ). REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS MOTHER M. ANGELICA,'P.C. One Heart and One Soul At the third session of the Vatican Council, a sum-mary of the Council document on religious had only a very passing reference to contemplative orders. These brief paragraphs reiterate the necessity of renewal and rejuvenation in these institutes. The fact that we are not engaged in the active life does not exempt us from necessary and careful examination and reevaluation of certain secondary details in. the general structure ofour life. Before we accomplish tl~is renewal, we must first of. all realize that when the Church speaks she is speaking to her contemplative religious as well as to the faithful. Thechanges in the Mass and the like should be made not merely to show our obedience but that we may reap those abundant fruits Which these changes seek to pro-mote. The reluctance Of cloistered communities to com-ply with the directives and ~changes promoted by the -Holy See seems to reflect a certain misunderstanding of the nun's place in the Church. Because of long-stand-ing privileges and constitutions, nuns fail to realize that the changing mind of the Church must affect them as well as it affects the laymen. In their rightful place as the loving heartof Holy Mother Church, they should be solicitously alert to her need of them as a power-house of prayer and of vigorous activity loving God and their neighbor With all the strength and talents at their command. Contemplative life is completely penetrated by di-vine charity, which inspires its actions and rewards its effbrts. In a world of turmoil, we are to be the example of the spirit and love of the first Christians.A nun filled with love cannot help'but show that love; "and this love wil! foster in the monastery a beautiful family spirit a family spirit which makes each sister feel loved and free to love in return. Where love governs a monastery and union with God is the ideal of all who live there, for-malism and regimentation are' washed away by the h,ealthy lifestream of common charity. What exactly is the family spirit, and why is it so The Reverend Mother M. Angel-ica, P.C., is the ab-bess of Our Lady of the Angels Monas-tery; Route 4--Box 66 Old Leeds Road; Birmingham, Ala-bama 35210. VOLUME 24, 1965 ÷ ÷ Mother M. Angelica, P.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS different from prevailing, conditions in many monas-teries? What changes can be made that would be com-mon to all contemplative orders while leaving to each its own distinctive spirit and aim? This article is a fam-ily project in which each nun has made a contribution in some way, and the following suggestions are the re-sult of this common effort to open the windows and let in the fresh air. Although a monastery is governed by the superior and her council, all professed nuns--at least, solemnly professed--should share in that govern-ment. When this is the case, the nuns learn to take their rightful place in the community as mature and intelli-gent women, using all their mental and physical re-sources to aid the abbess and help relieve her in some measure of her many burdens and to share her respon-sibilities. There are .many advantages to this .arrange-ment; for example, a strong bond of unity ties the nuns together and unites them as true.daughters of the mother God has given them; warm bonds of friendship and understanding prevail where sisters feel that their sug-gestions and opinions are appreciated and valued; obedience is made more reasonable and easier when the nuns know they are all pulling together for a common good; they feel that the monastery belongs to them as theirhome--as in truth it does (this realization should do away with the necessity of asking permission to ob-tain needed articles, personal or otherwise, from the common store--they are entitled to this trust and free-dom). The family spirit must embrace the whole world but especially members of the active orders. In religious life we are not competitors. When we begin to think that one life is higher and another lower, we have failed in our concept of the Mystical Body. We all belong to the same religious family; we all have the same general aim; namely, personal sanctification and the salvation, of souls. The means We employ are different, .but we a~e still one.The contemplative nun must be aware of the sacrifices and hardships of her brothers and. sisters in Africa, in China, and in other mission territories, and in the hospitals, schoolrooms, and missions of her own country. What affects them affects her Spouse, and this must be of great importance to her. Only then will she be able to make her own sacrifices with greater gener-osity in order to provide the ammunition needed by those in the front lines. The active order sister, too, must realize that the contemplative nun has not chosen :the easiest life buta life that demands many sacrifices and. much love--not only to praise, love, and adore God, but in order to obtain for her other sisters many graces so they can better fulfill their vocation in the active life. .The general financial condition of the monastery should be discussed, with all chapter members so that they can intelligently practice poverty. When familiar with this condition, they will use needed articles in their respective work with greater care and economy. ¯ When all work is rotated fi:~quently, the nuns become aware of one another's, prob.lems and difficulties. This rotation.of work helps the superior to brin.g out in her daughters their abilities and talents--talents they never realized existed. If each nun is ieft freedom to fulfill her work in her. own way, even though it ma~ be differ-ent from everyone else's, the superior will help greatly in developing her personality and dignity as an indi-vidual. The superior of any monastery carries a great respon-sibility. She must not .so much command as.request, and this request must be given With love.She must lead, cajole, persuade, and direct her daughters through love, ever keeping in.mind their dignity as spouses of Christ. ¯ She should give them the opportunity, at lectures or chapters, to have round table discussions whe~:e ideas can be exchanged and suggestions encouraged. The nuns should be allowed to r~ad periodicals in regard to changes in world conditions,, new r.eligious. trends, and world crises. They should be kept abreast of the times and not allow themselves to become com-pletely .isolated. Recendy, major superiors were asked for observations and sugges.tions toward the renewal of canon law for religious. We were asked in what areas we thought re-ligious life needed study, discussion, clarification, and adaptation. The following are a few of our observations and I am sure there are many more that other com-munities will have: (1) Why could not all the major superiors of the con-templative orders meet--Carmelites, Dominicans, Poor Clares, and so forth--and discuss one another's needs and difficulties? Even though each order hasa different founder, aim, and spirit, we still have the same goal; and we could benefit one another by an exchange of ideas in the basic things common to all. (2) It' would be good to have some law requiring the 'orders to re-evaluate their-constitutions and directories every ten or fifteen years; and this should be done with + all the chapter members of .that community giving + opinions and suggestions. Many of the customs which ÷ we hold dear have become outdated and create among One Heart and ¯ young aspirants a feeling of tension and restraint, one Soul. Thege customs were beautiful and had great meaning when they were originally instituted, but the life of a vOLUME 24, 196s young girl in the world today is so different from what. 545 .÷. ÷ ÷ Mother M. Angelica, P.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 546 it was a century ago that certain customs have lost all meaning. (3) Most of our monasteries have major papal encl0, sure and all changes must be Approved by Rome. But climate and .local custom sometimes make it necessary for one monaster~ to make. changes that another would not need. It would be a tremendous help if some parts of constitutions could.be changed with the permission of the local ordinary, who knows that monastery and its problems. (4) The Sacred Constitution On. the Liturgy states that with the permission of their competent superior the nuns may say the Divine Office in English. With the English Office and the high school education that most aspirants. have, why is it necessary to retain the class of lay sister? Class distinction and rank have no place among those striving to imitate the first Christians who were one heart and one soul. (5) Many a local ordinary would no doubt be grateful if the. abbess or prioress had the faculty to grant per-mission for her daughters to go to the dentist, doctor, or hospital. New advances in medicine and treatments make it more necessary today for cloistered nuns to make trips outside the monastery than it was a century ago. (6) The greatest thing a superior can do for her com-munity is to make sure there is someone qualified to take her. place. There can be great danger when one superior is allowed to stay in office over a long period of. time; on the other hand, forcing an upheaval in a small community, every Six years can also be .detrimental. Set-ting a definite term .of years for one person in office seems to infringe upon the freedom of the nuns to vote, as mature women, for the superior tliey wish. Postula-tion and application to ihe Holy See seem to be extraor-dinary barriers which, influence voting. With periodic visitations, injustices could be handled when they arose mwithout influencing the nuns in either direction. This is a prbblem p.revalent in small communities. (7) It is understandable why a priest is bound under pain of mortal sin in the recitation of the Divine Office (although the helpfulness of this has been questioned); but why nuns? The penalty for omitting a small part of the Divir.e Office seems greater than the offense. A nun must recite her Office out of love, in a spirit of adora-tion, realizing that next to the Mass this is her most important work. A nun who is not imbued with this spirit is not really saying the Office but is only .pro-nouncing the word~, and the penalty of mortal sin will never give her the zeal she lacks. By the same token, the penalty of excommunication for breaking the enclosure in a minor point seems high. Again--the enclosure must be kept out of love. (8) Major. superiors should understand that their. nuns are daughters and not subjects.They must be treated as m~ture women with the right to an explana-tion of a command or request. This does not mean that they must have an explanation of every request made, but superiors should no~ resent giving hn' eXplanation if it is asked; a nun does not fail in obedi~nce.because she does not .understand. (9) The public accusation of faults, commonly called "chapter," seems to need some type of revision. The weekly recital of faults against rules and customs seems to have lost some ofits effectiveness; it hasbecome a routine exercise, that arouses little enthusiasm or inter-est. Unless public s~andal is involved, the minor fail-ures of religious ~hould be corrected by the superior or novice mistress in their lectures or private interviews. (10) It is becoming more difficult' to get vocations to the contemplative orders. It may be because young girls who feel they.have a vocation have no contact with us. Since letters can be very misleading in determining "a vocation, it may be. of help. to the order and to the aspirants if the nuns welcome them into ~h.e monastery enclosure on a specified day each year to give them a. better idea of the life, the monastery, and the nuns. An-other solution might be to have a representative of the monastery at the yearly vocation day p~ojects which many of the high schools conduct for their area. (11) Is it necessary to have age requirements for the election of officers? Is it not more important to stress capabilities? Here again, we must realize that young nuns are, for the most part, well educated and capable of handling responsibilities. (12) Extra devotional activities should be left to the individual nun and not be made compulsory by con-stitutional requirements. More emphasis Should be put on the Mags and the Divine Office as the focal point of the nun's spiritual life. (13) Excessive formulas at chapters for investment, profession, and so forth should be avoided. Often a novice finds these a real burden; and they leave her open to temptations, discouragement, and frustration. In-stead, the beauty of the religious life should be pre-sented to her so that ~he can prayerfully and gratefully accept this tremendous gift from God. We hope this article shows how many facets of our life need careful examination and .reevaluation not only that the nuns who live the life can do so with greater freedom and joy of heart but that those who consider living our life may find in it all. the means they need in this modern age to become great contemplatives. ÷ ÷ ÷ One Heart and One Soul VOLUME 24, 1965 547 CHARLES A. SCHLECK, C.S.C. Poverty and Sanctification ÷ ÷ ÷ Charles A. Schleck, C.S.C., teaches the-ology at Holy Cr6ss College; 4001 Hare-wood Road, N.E.; Washington 17,D.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Oftentimes* we may have wondered why religious men and women have received as a kind of vested right the general title of "religious." Certainly, they are by no means alone in their practice and exercise of the worship of God; for this, as we know, is binding on the Church as a whole, on each and every member of the People of. God. It is established on the fact that all the faithful are consecrated to God by their baptism and have thereby received a share in the priesthood of the Lord Jesus ex; isting in power. Thus, their whole llfe is meant to be "consecrator~," ordained to cult, at least, understood in the broad sense; consequently, their entire life is meant to be reI!gious.1 Moreover, we know that there are per-sons who are not "i:eligious" in the usually accepted sense of this word but who spend more. time in their actual ~ worship of God than do those who are "religious." Yet only .those who have entered an institute in which the public profession of vows is made are called "religi0us.7 There is a rather special reason for this, admirably indi-cated by St. Thomas: "As stated above (q.141, a.1) that which is applicable to many things in common is ascribed antonomastically to that. to which it is applicable by way of excellence. Thus the name of fortitude, is claimed by the virtue which preserves the firmness of mind in regard to most difficult things, and the name of temperance by.that Virtue which tempers the greatest pleasures. Now religion as stated above (q.81, a.2; a.3, resp. 2) is a virtue by which.a man offers something to the service and worship of God. Therefore those who "give themselves up entirely to the ¯ This is the revised version of the second of six lectures that Father Schleck gave in the summer of 1962 to the Conference of Major Superiors of Women Religious of the United States. The first of the lectures was published in REvn~w FOR RELIClOUS, v. 24 (1965), pp. 161-87. 1 Pope Paul VI, Allocution on Religious LiJe, May 23, 1964, view FOR R~.mmtJs, v. 23 (196_4) p. 699. divine service, as offering a holocaust to God, are called religious antonomastically (or by special right).2 If we were to study the virtue of religion we would find that it is responsible not only for those acts which normally are its proper sphere, such as devotion or promptness in the service' 6f God or sacrifice or adora-tion, but also for those acts of other virtues which are commanded by religion's attitude and referred to it. Thus the acts of all the virtues, to the extent that they are referred to God's service and honor, become acts of the virtue, of religion. From this it follows that since a religious is one who devotes her whole life to the divine service, her whole life belongs to the exercise of the vir-tue of religion. It is a life in which every action is one of cult, one of worship, an act of her common priest-hood. It is for this reason that such a life is called the "religious life," and that those who embrace it are called by this special name. It is St. Gregory the Great who compares the religious consecration to a holocaustal offering: "When one vows something of himself to God, o. 2-2, q.186, a.l. "Admittedly, the doctrine of the universal.vocation of the faithful to holiness of life (regardless of their position or so-cial situation) has been advanced very much in modern times. This is as it should be, for it is based on the fact that all the .faithful are consecrated to God by their baptism. Moreover, the very necessities of the times demand that the fervor of Christian life should inflame souls and radiate itself in the world. In other words, the needs of the times demand a consecration of the world and this tasl~, pertains pre-eminently to the laity . However, we must be on our guard lest [or this very reason, the true notion o] religious life as it has tradi-tionally flourished in the Church, should become obscured. We must beware lest our youth, becoming confused while thinking about their choice of a state in life, should be thereby hindered in some way from having a clear and distinct vision of the special function and immutable importance of the religious state within the Church . for'this stable way of life, which receives its proper character from profession of the evangelical vows, is a perfect way of living accord-ing to the example and teaching of Jesus Christ. It is a state of life which keeps in view the constant growth of charity leading to its final perfection. In other ways of life, though legitimate in them-selves, the specific ends, advantages, and functions are of a temporal character. "On the other hand, right now it is of supreme importance for the Church to bear witness socially and publicly. Such witness is pro-claimed by the way of life embraced by the religious institutes. And the more it is stressed that the role of the laity demands that they live and advance the Christian life in the world, so much the more necessary is it for those who have truly renounced the world to let their example radiantly shine forth. In this way it will clearly be shown that the kingdom of Christ is not of this world. "Hence it follows that the profession of the evangelical dounsels is a super-addition to that consecration which is proper to baptism. It is indeed a special consecration which perfects the former one in-asmuch as by it, the follower of Christ totally commits and dedicates himself to God, thereby making his entire life a service to God alone" (Paul VI, Allocution on Religious Life, May 23, 1964 [italics mine]; REVIEW FOR RELIGtOUS, V. 23 [1964], pp. 699--700). ÷ ÷ ÷ Poverty and Sanctification VOLUME 24, 1965 549 ÷ Charles d. $chleck, C.$,C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 550 and yet retains something for himself, it is a sacrifice on his. part. But when one vows to God all that he has, all that he lives, all that he relishes, then we have a holo-caust, which in Latin means all incense." s The reference which St. Gregory has in mind is unmistakable. The holocaust was the sacrifice par excellence [or the Jews in the Old Testament. It was the most perfect, the most excellent that could be offered to God. And the meaning of this action was symbolic. It indicated that God was sovereign, that man owed Him his complete and entire subjection. Thevictim offered was considered as going up in flame and smoke tO Yahweh. It was a sign or symbol or a kind of "saci'ament" of what was supposed to be the interior attitude of the donor, .of his inner worship, of soul, of the. complete gift and surrender of self to the Lord. The entire victim was consumed on the altar so that it might denote that the whole person of the donor was giving itself to God for the purpose of union in life.4 What was offered to Yahweh was life, not death; and it was offered joyfully and freely. The New Testament, since it is the completion and fulfillment of the Old, asks an even more perfect act of sacrifice and holocaust. And this is found especially in the religious profession which has not only an individual dimension but a christic and ecclesial dimension as well. It is an act which signifies the complete dominion which God has over" the whole of creation; and it is an act which signifies most perfectly the act of redemption par excellence, the paschal mystery. The two elements which are found in this holocaustal act of the Lord--the spirit which prompted him to undergo it, namely, divine charity or love for the Father and men, and the human nature in and through which this act was undergone-- are found also in the religious profession whereby one dedicates and consecrates hi~s or her entire life and per-son to the service of God in such a way that this person and life pertains to o~cially accepted or public cult. The religious vocation is a call or an invitation from God, an act by which He through a special communica-tion of His salvific and loving mercy stoops down, so to speak, and touches certain persons in the Church, en-abling them or appointing them to exercise a symbolic and sacramental ministry or dial~onia in the Church, His Body. They are called to be a sign of the Person, not merely individual, but also social, corporal, the Body- Person which is the Church in search for God; they are called to be a sign of the heavenly Jerusalem, the bride who has been adorned not by the artistry of men, but from heaven, by an artistry that comes from above, wait- 8 In Ezechielern, Hom. 8, bk. 2, P.L., 76, 1037. ~ 1-2, q.102, a.3, ad 8 and 9; see also Lv 1:1-17. ing for the Lord with the eagerness of a bride ready .to meet her husband.5 The religious proIession, in its turn, is merely a re-sponse to this invitation implying the gift and complete surrender of one's person to the Lord by way of public consecration. This profession is merely' an,outward ex-pression or manifestation or epiphany of an inward love. It is the public and ritual revelation' of the most fundamental duty and response which the creature can make to the Creator. For by it more than by" any other merely human act we tell God that He is God, that we are His creatures, that we are at His complete disposal, that His will is the law and center of our life. Thug, at the basis of this ritual and holocaustal gift there must lie a most intense activity of' the virtues of love and religion especially, but also of the ~other virtues as well, since the infused virtues grow and operate with proportionate in-tensity.~ When we ask ourselves what this profession involves, the answer, is quite clear. It involves the living of the common life (for those who are religious in the strict sense of this word) and the .observance of the evangelical counsels under vow3 There is a long history behind this de facto ~ituation, one which we cannot go into in the present article. Suffice it to say that in the early Church one of the marks that Was characteristic according to the idyllic presentation of the Acts of the Apostles (2:42) was the sharing of things in common. Just exactly what this implied is not certain, but most probably it was nothing more than a deep concern and spontaneous generosity in regard .to the material needs of the members of the Christian community. The earliest form of asceticism-- implying consecration also--seems to have been the practice of virginity for the sake of the kingdom of God.s While a kind of apostolic poverty was practised from the v.ery beginning of the Church, still the stark message of the gospel: "Go sell what thou hast and give ¯ to the poor," did not receive any "specialized" response until the time of St. Antony (d. 356). A~ first the practice was .personal, that is, not pract!sed in community, as was .also true of virginity; and it was characterized by a spiritual joy, the hope of heaven, and trust and confidence and hope in the Lord. From a personal prac-tice aimed at bringing out the perfection of hope and ~Ap 21:2. e 1-2, q.66, a.2. ~ There are some few exceptions with regard to the demand of liv-ing dommunity life; for example, the Daughters of the Heart of Mary. See. Suzanne Cita-Malard, Religio~s Orders o! Women (New York: Hawthorn, 1964), p. 21. 8 1 Cot.7. 4- Poverty and Sanctification VOLUME 24, 1965 ultimately of charity, .it was soon transformed into a community af

Issue 11.4 of the Review for Religious, 1952. ; A.M.D. G~ Review for Religious JULY 15, 1952 Parallel Vocations . Nicholas H. Rieman Bibles . William M. Sfritch Unigeni÷us Dei Filius . Pope Plus x~ To a Master of Novices . Fra L. Ganganelli .Higher Education . Sister M. Bonaventure National Congress Questions and Answers Modesty Crusade Book Reviews VOLUME NUMBER REViI::W FOR RI::LIGIOUS VOLUME XI JULY, 1952 NUMBER CONTENTS PARALLEL VOCATIONS--Nicholas H. Rieman, S.J .1.69 BIBLES--William M. Stritch, S.J . 177 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 182 REPRINTS OF SPONSA CHRISTI . ¯ . 182 UNIGENITUS DEI FILIUS--Pope Plus XI . 183 BOOKS FOR.PRIESTS . 198 FOR ORGANISTS AND CHOIRMASTERS .1.98 LETTER TO A MASTER OF NOVICES--Fra Lorenzo Ganganelll 199 TEN-YEAR INDEX STILL AVAILABLE . 202 HIGHER EDUCATION AND "REAL RELIGION"-- Sister M. Bonaventure, O.S.F . 203 NATIONAL CONGRESS . 210 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 19. Prescriptions for the Chapter of Faults . 211 20. Precedence in Receiving Communion . . ¯ .212 SHALL I START TO DRINK? . 213 BOOK REVIEWS~ The Morning Offering; What is the Index?; The Seminarian at His Prie-Dieu; The Carmelite Directory of the Spiritual Life .214 BOOK NOTICES . 217 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 221 PROMOTE THE MODESTY CRUSADE . 223 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, July, 1952. Vol. XI, No. 4. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street; Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Jerome Breunig, S.J.; Augustine G. Ellard, S.J.: Adam C. Ellis, S.J.; Gerald Kelly, S.J. Copyright, 1952, by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Before writincj to us, please consult notice on Inside back cover. Parallel Voca!:ions Nicholas H. Rieman, S.3. ~yJE RELIGIOUS know the worth of our vocation. We rank it -W among~ur greatest blessin~gs. A precious gift in itself, it car-~ ries .with it numerouk other gifts, such as our. rpraye~-'and Mass, spiritual guidhnce', our companions," and our apostolic work'. We are glad we took the step knto religion, andewe miss no chance to draw others to religion too. .But perhaps we are not aware that our r~ligious vocation can be partly.sh'ared even with lay folks. A. molag the most effective ways we~h~ve of sha"ring our vocati6n ig encourag-. ing and conducting third 0rd~rs. confra:ernities, so'dalities and simi'- l'ar organizat!ons.~ The present article confines itself to. the parallel vocation as found in the Sodality'of Our Lads,. .' ¯ There is a special reason why tile possibilities of ~uch a Sqdality should be unfolded to religious.~ It is this: .while the director of-a Sodality must always beLa priest, yet"in a scho01or hospital the', actual l~andling of aSodality .is often left"to Brother Michael or to -Sister 3oan. Also, besides those who are moderators ofSodalities, many other religious superiors, principals, ¯floor. supervisors in.hos-pitals, teachers, nurses, he'ads of different ~ictivities--can help much. They.can lend interest and co0pfration to 'insure that the Sodality in their institutions be a true Sodality, and lay people bent on some-thing more than me.dioctity be drawn to its rankS. Many Feligious are, then, in a tposition to forward good Sodalities. By doing so;. they can share many of the benefits of a religious vocation with those who follow the la~; Sodal.ity vocation. - For m'embersbip in the Sodality is also a vocation. Our present Holy Fatber'has clearly in his Apostolic Constitution Bis Saecular~ placed the Sodality in the troop--sof Catboh"c ~-A "ctton. And Catholic Acti0n~-the words are thdse of Plus X'I is "a vocation strictly and properly so .called." ¯ It is not, of course? a religious vocation. Y,et if is ~ vocation, a way of life, a call to perfection.' The. S6d;ility is open only to those who are ready,.by Go'd's grace, to-adopt the'de2 .mandihg spiritual.and apostolic progr~am it involves. ' Btit'why is the Sodality such an ap't means for sh~iring With lay people something of our religious v6cation? 'F6r.the simple reason that the vocation, of a religious and that of a Sodalist are much alike. ¯ 1.69 NICHOLAS H. RIEMAN Review [or'Religiqus It is nottoo'mu~h t~ call them paraliel vocations, Only a~det~iled comparison will display how far-reaching this parallelism is. Of. course, only true Sodalitiei--those that follow the papal directives and the Sodality rules-~can prodiace this parallelism'and the result-' ant rich spiritual harvest. So, in pointing oot the resemblances.be-l~ ween t'he two vocations, I shall ~lso suggest how ~a Sodality must be co'nducted in order to secure these benefits. . What then. are some of the parallels between religious and So-dality life? First, becoming a Sodalist, like becoming a Franciscan or a.Sister of'Merry, is a lifetime,undertaking. Joining the So, dality is not like joining the staff of the school paper or the dramatic club. These latter are hobbies; the Sodality is a vocation, A Sodalist agrees to follow the Sodality way of life not just at school, but when on vacation, when working in a facto.ry or office, when married--in. short, for life. Pius XII. knows that very well: be never, says, "I wa~ a Sodalist, but always, '"I am a. Sodahst, although he took his act .of consecration and' entered the Sodality 56 years ago. More will b~ said later of the Sodality act of consecration. Here it isi'enough to.stress one thing. This consecration, and so the ac-ceptance of Sod, ality obligations that goes with it, is for life. True, a temporary act of consecration for 'a year can" be and sometimes is made in Junior Sodalities (those in grammar schools), since at that age level most of the candidates are sddom mature enough for a life-time dedication. But the ordinary act ofconsecration taken by teen-~ agers and adults is, as clearly, indicated in both its forms in the Sodality Rules, perpetual. The Sodality vocatioia, like a religious vocation, is perpetual. Besides being a. lifetime dedication, becoming a S6dalist is also, l'ike becoming a religious, a full-time occupation. One must be a Sodalist 24 hours a day. Just as being a Christian Brother .affects not only a. man's Mass and his meal-times, but his work and recrea-tion too, s6 being., a Sodalist doesn't mean only .attending meet.ings, saying one's rosary, 'and taking p~art in a cl0thes-for-I~or~a drive, 'Being a Sodalist must--and in a Sodality that follows the rules, does. --affect a boy's lock~r-room langu;ige, the kind of formal a girl wears to a prom, and every other action that fills the dajr of either of them. Tru.e, a Sodalist does not, as is generally true of religious, have his wgrk assigned by ~uperi0rs. 'Yet a Sodalist, just like any of us, has to show a good example and. beactively ap0s~olic every minute of his waking day. Nor is this an impossible ideal, a pipe. 170 dui~,1952 ~ARALLEL VOCATIONS dream. In Sodalities that follow Plus XII's stipulations and actually .require,observance of the. Sgdality rules, this is a normal result, re-alized, if not perfectly,. at least in large measure. The act of consecration to Our Lady which admits one tb the Sodality parallels very close.ly the vows of reli~ious orders. Even the .wgrding of the act of consecration in the St. Francis,de Sales fbrmula, ~clbsely resembles the vow formula of some religious. "It is not a vow, of. course, and so does not bind ur~der sin, but it is a solemn dedication. ~ And What doek the Sodalist promise? Pius XII gives us the'answer. "To apply oneself seriously to sanctity, each in his proper state: to dedicate .oneself, not in any manner whatsoever but 'with ardor, in ~the measure and manner compatible with each one,s social condition to the s'alvation and perfection of others: in a word[ to emplby oneself strenoously in the defense of the Church of Christ: such is the assignment of the Sodalist, freely, resolutely ac-cepted in theact of his con'secration." In short, he says, "conse-cration to the Mother of God in the Sodality is an entire gift of one-self throughout life and for all eternity." It is the solemn, acceptance of a way of life forall one's future vears. The act' of consecration is the cornerstone of the Sodality vocation, even though not absolutely required for valid reception. It should be for the incoming Sodalist a thing only a little less tremendous than. the taking of vows i's to .religious This act of consecration is often renewed by earnest So-dalistS, .just as rdligious often renew their vows, even though they are perpetual. The Sodality~onsecration is not specific~illy directed to vows' of r~overtv, cha'stity, and obedience, as are the.vows of religious. Still it implies that Sodalists practice these three virtues to a higher degree than ordinary Christi~ins. A special obedience to the hierarchy of the Church is requi.red by the Sodality's character as Catholic Action, and. was referred to by PiusXII as a prominent feature of Sodalities. A relative indifferdnce to material goods, is obviously necessary for the practice of a constant apostolate. Lastly, chastity--according to one's state, which doesn't necessarily mean celibacy--is naturally the ideal of one speci.all'y dedicated to.Mary. ¯ The Sodality, too, has its ~novitiate," call~d the probati6n. It is required of all candidates before admission. A religiolis,novitiate mus~ be a year lbng, and man~, orders and congregations require two years. How long is the Sodality probation? "Not less than two months" is required by.Sodality rules, but most effective Sodalitles ,171 NICHOLA~ H, RIEMAN " ~ x Revieu2 for'Reli~Tious rriake it.six months and quite a few of tlqem, especially thoke for hi~h" school students a.full ,year. The purpose of the Sodality p~b-bation is the same as that of a religious novitiate: tb acquaint, to test. t6 train. " " "It acquaints_ tl-i~'aspiraht with what the Sodality is.~ind how. it functions.'so that he can bi~tter "decide whether .hE wants to make-the" sacrifices inv~lved.It tests the candidate, and tries to find out whether~ he~ha~iwhat it takes.,to livEforevek the Sodality v~ay of life. It. trains him in" devotion to. Mary, in spiritual exercises ahd apostolic activi-ti~;: so that if- he ,is accepted, he ,will already-h'ave largely~, acquired the attitudes .and habits nee-ded to li,¢e and'act as/a Sodalist ghould. dust like.a, religlous novitiate. the Sodality 'probation is' heavily. weighted'on'the spiritual side. It stresses ingtructi'on, direction. 'and above, allT-prayer. ' " " '. ¯ -Like a religious.'order, or congregation. the S0dalit~ has its, rules. They.'are not-as demanding' as the rules of religious, btit tt~ey do clearly aim at a,high degree'of spirituality. They are all-in the pam-ph! et. Sodalit~l"Rule~. 'In his A1fostolic. Constitution of 1948 Pius XII.refers to them 25. times. It is clear that in. his mind an easy test of the calibre of"a Sodality.is whether it really keeps the rules. In a Sod~dity as."in religious orders the ~pirjt of the rules is always more important tha~ the letter, and'so Sodality rules w,hich refer only ,to procedure at, meetings and such topics should n'ot bd applied wood-enly . Yet the:rules embbdy the. spiril~ .of an organization, and if" th~yfallinto disregard and disuse, the rd'sult will be as disastrbus toa SQdality as: it would be to, a religigus'order.~ ¯ :-. In .its spiritual practices, and .to a. smaller exteni i~ its apostolic a.ctivity a °Sddality, clgsely parallels religious.c.ongreg~tions.- First, let.'us 'ma'ke a thorough survey of"it.s spiritual.exercises, for they are the dynamo on'wh.ich Sodality activities depend. Most .of these dai.ly duties are containe_d'in R.u:le 34 of the Sodality. This rule deserves to be quo,ted in full: ":Sodalist~ must be very careful, to p~actice'~hose exercises of piel~y which are most necess.a.ry for fervbl of life. Every morning.on ~i~jng,,let"them make 'the. acts of faith, hope, and'ch~r-ity; thank God our Lord for His.benefits:: offer Him their labors~ with the" intention of-gaining all",.the mdu.lgences~ they.can~.through-out that day;, and invoke 't~'e Blessed. Virgin'. by reciting thd Hail Mary three times. Le~t. tbem.':devote at least a quarter of an hour td mental prayer: be presenL if they can: a'~the adoiable Sacri}ice of,the Mass; and recite the most HolyoRosary, or some Office of Our'I2ady. 172 "dul~], 1952- PARALLEL VOCATIONS In the evening before retiring, let them carefully examine their con-science and make a fervent act of contrition, for the sins of-their whole life and especially for those committed on that day." The t~rst item mentioned on the day's spiritual schedule of a So-dalist is the prayers on rising:, faith, hope, love, thanksgiving, offering'of works, three Hail Marys. The aim of these brief vocal prayers is of.course to start the d~iy r.igbt, with and for God.They remind us at once of the "morning prayers~ . morning visit," or "first visit," of religious.They are a dedication of.the day to God. Next is mentioned daily mental prayer "at least a quarter of an hour:'" All religious institutes have, I believe, a half-hour of mental prayer, and some have more. The Sodality rule demanding daily mental prayer is as clear and unconditional as the rule of reli-gious c6n'gregations on. this point. The'only difference is in the length of time. The conclusion ought to be obvious. If a' religious-would not admit to vows a novice who did not regularly perform his meditation, why should we expect h S6dality to admit candi-dates who are not reasonably faithful in fulfilling this clear Sodality demand? Again, if novices need instruction in the bow-when-where- why of mental prayer to enable them to perform it profitably, won't Sodalists need the same? A Sodality in which the members are' faithful to their rule on mental prayer will be a Sodality that can move spiritual mountains, even if i~ has'only fifty members or even only ten. Further, says the rule, Sodalists must attend daily Ma~s "if they can." This practice, too. is modelled on that of religious. How-- ever,, for religious the "if they can" is gefierally an unneeded addi-tion: since their ~ommon life and work assignments are arranged so that it is a!ways possible for them to do so. Though daily Mass may sometimes be impossible for this or that Sodalist, such cases are rare. The trouble is that too often the '.'if they can" of the rule is taken to mean,"if th.ey choose': or'"if they do not find it incon-venient." But the John Carroll Univeisity Sodality, and marly another too, has sfiown that practically all Sodalists can atterld Mass seven days.a week if they want to. Daily Holy Cohamunion, of course, cannot be required of.Sodal-ists any more than it can of religious. But Sodalists in iheir Rule39, as all religious somewhere in their rules, are strongly urged to fre- ¯ quent and even daily Communion. Most Sodalities that observe the rules and require daily Mass find that all their members receive Corn- NICHOLAS H. RIEMAN . °. Reoie~o for ReligiO~s" .muni6n freq~uently, and the great majority of l~he.m~daily. Next the).Sodality rule requires daily, recitation of the rosary, or an Office of. Our La~y --- ~.g.; theOffice 6f the Ihamac~late .Concep-., tion. On day, s w.hen~the Sodality meets, such an Office, or part of it, is sometimes said or sung in common. ]3ut in their daily prac-tice, most Sodalists piefer the rosarY, and this .dail~ du.ty is o~ten perforrfied in"an ideal Way, with one's family. In religious orders and'congregation~, the daily rosary also forms, either by rule or by ¯ custom, part of th~ spiri(ual exercises, at least where the Office of Our Lady.is not required. Like most religious orders, the Sodality rules requir~.a daily ex-~¯ . amination of conscience at night. The reason is the same., We all know how a daily check on.our faults or virtues helps us to fiaake ,our following 0f Christ .a, practical thing, a love of deeds,and not. merely of imagination. The particular examen too, which focuses our attenti6n'or~ a "single virtue or fault, and in° which we religious find so much value, ought to be offerdd by us to Sodalists as well. A Sodalist, like a relig!ous,needs direction in this business;' of striving for p.erfection. Both need a ~piritual directo? to answer p.r~b~lems,.instruct, enc~ourgge. This i~ particul.arly trfie for the reli-gious nowce or the Sodality probationer, but it is true also for those who have already made their'lifetime consecration. S6dalists ought, to.~o to confession often; and to'get real spiritual direction from regular confessor. Rule 36 of the ~ddality is very clea~,on tl'Jis mat~ ter. .How, ever, although one's spiritual director is always a priest,~ still just as a novice-mistress can help her charges.greatly in their ori-entationto.~ eligious life, so fdr example in a girls' school, if'the So-dality moderator is a nun, she c~in on a more limited scale greatly "help her incoming Sodalists, ¯or those who are.already 'rnemb~rs, in their spiritual life.¯ Sodalis~s must make an annual retreat. Rule 9, which imposes" this i3b.ligat~on, does not set a specific l~ngtl~ of ti.me, b~t only says,¯ "There shall be a retreat every year for some days.-. " This rule does, however, str, ongly advise a clo~ed [etreat,° not fia~rely an ope,n retreat'in wl~ich the retreatants go home in the afterfioons. Also,-it cl,e.arly expects .tha~ the Sodali~(s' not only listen to t.alks, but perform meditations during the retreat~. For best rest.Its, too, the retreat h~uld, be fdr Sodalists only, just as theretreat a nun to be for nuns of her institute¯ only, not for a mixed gathering of nuns, priests, ' and .lay people. If such oa Sodality *r~treat is really im- 174- ¯ July, 19~2 -,~ PARALLEL VOCATIONS' possible, then even during the regular school or coll~ge retreat, Sodalists could make some speci~il m~ditations on their Sodality way of life,' and assign a special time for examen and for some spiritual readingdirected to" their own spiritual level. For~among Sodalists as ¯ -among re!igious the retre~it should be a powerhouse that makes its fotce'felt all through (he yea.r. It can do this best if it is adapted. to their'Sc~dality way of life., Closely" parallel in their spiritualduties a~d practices, the Sodal- .ity and.religious communities are para.llel, too,-though much less so,. .'in.their work, their apostolate. This is r;ot true of strict °contem-i~ lative orders engaging irf no outside activity, for while the prayer and penance and union with God of such contempla, tives'have an apostolic as well as a personal motive and .are in fact a tremenddus . apostolic weapon, yet they cannot, be called.external activity. 'But with religious communities engaging in external works, the Sodal, ity in its apostolate has certain likenesses. If'well understood, these, simi~ " larities will help us to cohceive,the Sodality more correctly; and mo~e.~ ¯ easily share with Sodalists our Own apostoli.c outlook, 'energy, and techniques. Apostolic work is, first of ,all, just as essential to the Sodality as to acfive:~eligious c~mmunities, and it is as deeply .rootedin pe"r-sonal sanctity. A teaching Brother who¯ recites~fill his pra~;e.rs me-ticulously but who is careless about preparing fo~ his classes is not' living.his rel~igious life f.ully.~ .Nor do~s a nursing ~ister have a-true view of he.r life.if she thifiks of holiness only as something personal,¯ and. does not see that.her.work demands sanctity, and depends 9n it. So .to_6 a Sodalist must see Sodality meetings and projects and his own day-to-d~iy contacts With his friends as part of his Sodality vo-. cation. He must clearly grasp, too, that ~11 Sodality action, since its aim is. to develop in men the grace-life, depends less on clever tech-niques. ~ban .on souls charged, with the grace of God. In the S0- dalit~ as in an active, religiohs ~c0mmunity, the spiritual and .the apostolic do not existside by side unrelated to each Other. The So~" dality does,riot have two goals; buta single goal; a spirit.ual- .apostolic goal. The.two facets, of that g0al are mutually dependent. One cannot exist without the other. Also, in the Sodality .as in religion, the apostolate is organized. 'Since the work of most S6dalists study and class, nursing,, office work, factory, work,, homemaking is riot, like the work ofia reli- ~ gious, °.directly. assigned by religious superiors, the activity-of the , 175 NICHOLAS .H. RIEMAN Reoiew ?or Religious S0dalists is both organized and individual. It .may be strictl~i or-ganized, that is, not only pl~nned in a meeting but carried out by a group. Such would be a weekly trip by S0dalists to theLittle Sis-ters of the Poor to help them care for their' charges. Sodality action may be planned together but cariied out individually, as in the con-tacting of busines~ firms to have them halt sexy advertisingor dis, play Christmas cribs. Or it may be completely indiv, idual, though inspired by Sodality ideals, as when a Sodalist persuades his or her non-Catholic roommate to go to Mass sometimes. Since we reli- -gious. even thdugh our work be hssigned, to some extent use these various apost'olic approaches ourselves, we can and should help So-d~ lli~ts with whom we deal to do the same. '"Among the primary ends of Sodalities." says Plus XI.I, "is to be reckoned every kind'bf apostolate. " " No form of apostolic ac-tion. therefore, is closed to the Sodality, and so the activities of a Sodality should be g~ired to.local needs. Such adaptation in the apostolate is a feature of not.a few religious orders and congrega-tions. We often kee the same order conducting schools on all levels, .foreign missions, hospitals, and sometimes, also parishesi Even if a congregation limits its work to education, its schools will not be car-bon copies.of, each other, but will be adapted somewhat to local con-ditions.'. The needs of each milieu are individual, and ju.st as our own apostolate ~as.religious is adapted to varying conditions, ~o we can show our Sodalists bow to do the same in their adtion for Christ. ¯ One thing more. It is almost to be expected of Sodalists that the choice of their future occupation b~ made due regard being had for their personal bent and quMifications on the basis of its al~ostolic Opportunities. One natural result of this is that'a vigorous.Sodality quickly becomes a rich source of vocations to priestly and religious life. But there are other implicatio~ns too. A Fuller-brush salesman can be an apostle, of course. But picture how much vaster are the apostolic p0ssibilities of a teaching position ' in a secular university, or of hel.ping to unionize the office-fforkers of America. . Certainly in a Sodality worthy of the name many of [he' membe.rs will choose their life's work from ~apostolic motivesl if we religious~ lay open to, ,them the potentialities. And we ought to. be adept at doing this, seeing that many of us chose our own life work .on that score. Enough has been said t6 show the fir-reaching similarity in various ways. ,between the religious life and the way of life of a true Sodalisf. The Sodality is not, of course, a religious order or con- 176 ¯ ¯ BIBLES' gregation, not even,'a~Third .Order, "among other reasons because.all Sodalities, except for the small minority in Jesuit, houses, are u£det i~piscopal direction. The Sodality has always tal~en care. to make this point clear.' Yet the Sodality does ~losely parallelreligious br-ders in their novitiate,and vov~s.and rules, in the spi~iti~al exercises they practice, and even in part in .their apostolate. These parallels are something we religious can. well ponder and utilize, for they have an important meaning for us. ~ They mean that we cannot expect Sodalities to be the kind of Catholic Action forces the Pope wishes them to be Unless we demand observance of Sodality .rules almost asreligious are expected to keep their rules. The~i mean that if we make our Sodalitie's,hll.that they should be, we can to ~.large degree and in a workable way shareeven with zealous laymen and laywomen, boys and girls, the multiple graces and advantages of our ownreligious vocation. Many of the same tools that we use to advance toward sanctity and to draw others to Christ can be used too by.our zealous lay people, ifwe con~luct Sodalities ascording to the mind of Pius XII,and en~ourage such lay people to membership in those Sodalities. By fostering viggrous So-dalities we can share with lay persons something, of the "pearl of great price" that is our religious vocation. For tb be a religious and to be a Sodalist are parallel vocations. Bibles William M. Stritch, S.J. THE following rare .and, curious editions of _the Bible, mainly non,Catholic, a~e famous either for so_me eccentricity of their ¯ translation or for some remarkable feattire o~ their publication. The Aitken Bible. The first whole English Bible printed in the United States,. by Robert Aitken;0Philadelphia, in 1782, and at l~i~' own expense. HeIost about $3000.00 on his ~renture, owing to the ,number of copies imported from England shortly afterwards. The title page, six by three and a half inches, bore the coat of arms of the State'of Pennsylvania, and says ~he project w~as appr'oved (bu~tnot sul~sidiz.ed)' and recommended by .the U. S. Congress assembled 177 WILLIAM M. STR[TCH .: ~ ~ RetJieto September 12, 1782. This edition" of 'the King James known.hlsQ as the "Bible of th~ Revolution," is more rare than even the Gutenberg Bible,notmore.than twenty-fiv~ copies .being known to exist. The~Library of. Congress copy Was acquired in 1891 for $650.00. The Breeches Bible. )klthough Wyclif in 1380, and Wm.Cax-ton in 1483,rendered the word translated "aprons" in Gen. 3:7, by the word "breeches." it ~emained for the .16th century Geneva Bibles to' be called ."Breeches-" Bible.' They were printed in England for only forty-one years, yet proved so ~p0pular .that even today those wl~o make no preterise to be Bible collectorslike t6. boast thaLthey, possess a "Breeches" Bible. The "Breeches"~ Bible of 1560 was the ¯ first Bible in English to be divided'into verses. The 1594e~lition is famous for havi.ng, the date "1495" on the New" T.es~am~nt title page~ ,The ~Bu~,Bible. An English,translation of th~ Bible printed,in 1551 ?by.John Daye; and so called from the rendering of the verse in Ps. 91:5, '.'Thou shall¯ not"nede' to be afrayde' f9~ eny bugges by nyghte~" A Copy of this Bible is, or was, until the outbreak0f'w~ir in 193.9, i~n .the library of the town'of Sc~uthampton, Ehglarid. : The Carey Bible. To Mathew Carey (1760-1839) of Phila-delphia gqes the ho.nor of publishing for'the first time {n the United States: . THE HOLY BIBLE Translated from lthe Latin ¯Vulgate ¯ Diligently compared ~vith the Hebrew, Greek. and other editions in divers languages., a.nd first published by The English College at Doway, anno 1609 Newly. revised and "c~rrected, acco'rding to ,¯ The Clementine Edition of the .Scriptur~es with annotations 'for elucidating The principal difficultie~ of Holy Writ , (Title page of Cafey',s B~ble, ~Ph~ilad~lpl~ia, .publishedDec. ¯ . The Caxto~ Memorial Bible. In 18~77.~ fou~ hundredy~ars after ,the introdu.ction of printing int6 England, one ht)ndredcbpies.of this Bibl~ were printed and bound in.twelve, hours to celebrate th~ occa-sion.' . ~ ~ The Ears-to-Ear. Bible. So named because of.a m~isprint in an editic~n of 1810~ inwhich Matt. ~3:13 reads, ~'wh6 hath ears to bar let him hear.r' ¯ Also has "good w6rks" for. "dehd'works" iri St. Paul's."Epist.le to.the Hebrews, 9: 1'~. 178 Jul~ ~ 195~ " BIBLE~ " "The Geneoa'Bible. '~ t~anslation printed in 1560. It was the work of E, nglish Protestant refugees living in Geneva, whence its name. - The Great Bibl-e." Being the Bible."in largest volume."' It pos" sessed a title page of elaborate design, in which Henry VIII ~w.as de-picted as.handing 'Zthe word of God" $0 Archbishop Cranmer and other clergy on his right Band, and to Cromwell and various lay-peers on hi~ left. Thi~" Bible is'also known as the "Chained Bible," due to the fact that s~x of ther~ were "upon divers pillars in .(St.:) P~ul'~ chi~rch, fi~ed unto the same with chaihs for all men to read in them that would." A copy. of. this Bible,,on'vellum, is now St. John's College, Cambridge, Er~gl~nd, containing the.statement at the end that it was.';fynished in. Apryll, anno 1539." " The Indian B~'ble. Tbi~ is the first Bible.printed .in what is now the U. S. A., by 3ohn. Eliot, the Apostle tO the North American In- ¯ dians. ¯.The first Indian translation of the Bible was iia th~ dialect of the-Naticks, a Massachusetts trib.e .of the' Algonkins,. and was made under the auspices Of tile Corporatior; fcff the. Propagation of ~,the Gospels among the Indi~ng~of Ne~ En.gland. .The Nev) Testa-ment appe.ai.ed.first in 1661, and two years aftei, the entire Bible. Some Of the Indian words used by Eliot are so" extremely long that Cotton Mather thought they :must hhve been stretching .themselves ever since the confusion of the tongues at Babel. A second revised edition, wasoprinted in .16~5, only" twelve copies of which are know~n to exist. A copy.of the edition Of 1663.:sold some years, agc~ for $2,900.00. The Jefferson Bible. "This is a compilation made l~y~ Thomas Jefferson during'his first term as pre~idknt of the U.S.A, ~nd c~nsists of passages from the Four G0sp~ls cut out and'pasted in a book ac-cc~ rding tO a scheme of his own. Jefferson began the work in 1804', In 1895 the federal gox;ernment purchased this curious book from-. the Jefferson~heirs, and the original is n~w in the Natiohal Museum in'Washin~t0n. The Fifty-Seventh Cbngress (.190.1-03) issued a limited edition of'the Jefferson Bible to its members. The" Leda Bible. An edition published in 1572 and so called becaiase the decoration to the'initial at the Epistle to the Hebrews is a startling and i~congrubtis woodcut of Jupiter visiting Leda in the guise of a swan. The Gutenberg Bible, In 1930, by speciai ac~ of ~ongr, ess, the Library of Congress. purchased the Vollbehr collectign of 3,000 in-o -. ~ 179 WILLI'AM M. STRITCH Revieto ~or. Religious cunabula which included 6he of the three known perfect copies on xiellum Of the Gutenber'g Bible. The price p~id for the colledtion was $1,500,000. .The Bible itself was not. pri~ed, separately, but Dr. ~ollbehr paid $250,000 for it, which was increased by interest charges and an export' tax to a total in excess of.'$350,000, the hBiigbhlee'sst ppurbicliec aetvioern .p iasi hdo f~o rk an opwrinn,t endo rb coaonk .i tT bh'ee deexfaicnti tdealyte a ossfe trhteed that it.was.printed by Johann Gutenberg at Mainz. A copy of this Bible in the National Library of Paris. contains two manuscript dates, August 15, 1456, and August 24, 1456. It is therefore ap-' parenf that the Bible was printed before August, 14.56. Bibliogra-phers agree that Mairiz was the city.whekein it was p~oduced. The name of Johann Gutenberg, universally acknowledged as the success-ful inventor of the process of printing from movable metal type, ap-pears nowhere in the Bible, but we do-kno~¢ from available and con-temporary evidence that he Was deeply interested in it, and for' that reason this Bible is c6mmonly referred to as the Gutenberg Bible. Printed in a large .gothic type, the edition contains 641 printed leaves. The two other perfect,vellum ~opies are owned by the Brit-" ishoMuseum in London and the National Library in Paris. No one knows how many capies of this Bible were originally printed, but at lea~t forty-five ~opies of this Bible. of which twelve are vellum copies, are extant today. The beautifully printed and well' preserved copy in the Library of Congress is appraised at $1,,000,000 and is known as "the choice~ book in Christendom,." The Leese~ Bible, Although parts of the Hebrew scriptures had been preyiously translated into English for Jewisl~ use, the first com-plete English Old Testament for that purpose was translated by Isaac Leeser and published in 1853. Leeser fOllowed the style of the' King James Versioh, but made so many changes in the text thai his work is essentially a.n independent translation. This monumental work held its place in English and American synagogues until it be-gan to .be replaced by. the Jewish version of 1917. ,The Murderers Bible. An edition of 1801 in which the mis-print murderers for murmurers makes Jude 16 read "These are tour- .deters, full of complaints,, walking according to their own desires." ¯ ThePtacemakers Bible. An editionof the Geneva Bible, 1562, so called from a ,printer's error in Matt. 5 :9 "Bles~ed are the place-makers (peacemakers) fo~ they shall be called the children of God." The Printers Bible. An edition of about 1702 which makes Da-i80 BIBLE~ vid pathetically complain that "prin~ers (princes) havepersecuted me" (Ps. 119:161)'. The Rebecca's Cdmels Bible. Printed ii~ 1823 in which Gem -24:61 tells us that "Rebecca .arose. and her camels." instead of "her damsels." The Standing-Fishes Bible.Bible printed in 1806 in which Ezek. 47:10 reads "but it shall come to pass.that fishes (instead of fishers), shall s~and upon it,'; , ~Tbe Smith'Bible: .Julia Evelina Smith (179~2-1886) of, Glas-tonbury, Conn., transla'ted the Bible into English from .Latin, Greek, and'Hebrew, ~ind h~s be~n the only woman to translate the Bible in any language. She started the project when she Wfi's 77 years of age and cgmpleted it when 84. Her translat,on of the Bible was published in Hartford, Conn., in 1876, arid at her'own~expense. The To-Remain Bible. Bible printed at Cambridge, England, in 1805. Gal. 4:29 read.s,. "Persecuted hini that was born after the ~pirit to remain., even' so it is now." The words "to remain" weie added in error by the compositor, the editor having answered a proof-reader's queryas to the comma after "spirit" with the penciled reply "to remain" in the margin. The Thumb "Bible~ An edition published in Aberdeen, Scot-land. in 1693. It measured one inch square and half an inch thick, and was calle~ "Verbum Sempiternum." A Mr. J. W. Bradley, Halifax, Nova Scotia, has what he bMieves is the world's smallest Bible. Measuring only-5/8 of an inch square with 500 thin pages. It was printed by the Oxford Un.iversity Press in 1859. ~ The Treade Bible. An edition of the Bible published in 1568, and so ~alled from its" rendering of J~r.' 8:22, "Is there no treacle (instead of "balm").in Gilead?" The Unrighteous Bible. An edition printed at Cambridge, Eng-land, in 1653, containing the printer's error, "know ye not that the unrighteous shall inherit (for "shall not inherit")~ the Kingdom of ¯ God" (I Cor. 6:9). The same'edition, gave Rom. 6:13 as "n~ither yield ye your members as instruments of righteous unto sin," in place of "unrighteous." ." The Vinegar Bible. An edition printed at Oxford, E.ngland, in 17i7; in which the chapter heading of Luke 20 isgiven as~ "The Parable of the Vinegar/' instead of the "Vineyard;',' It was printed by J. Baskett; becauseof manyother errors it soon ca~e to be styled' WILLIAM M. STRITCH a basketful:of errors.". Copies of this edition are. very rare. Christ Chu.rch at Shrewsbury, New.dersey, is said to have one of the few° known copies i~n existence. "The Whom/Who "Bible. Both versions, Catholic and non- Catholic, admit that grammatical blundbr which for centuries bas rasped the nerves of sensitive purists, namely, . the questio~a of Our Lord, (Matt. 16:t3), "Whom do men say that .the Son of-man iS?" The revised (1881) American standard version and the Cath-olic Confraternity t)f Christian Doctrine version of 1941 rectify that error by making it "Who." In connection with the AmeriCan standard.version of 1881. it may be news to many of our readers to learn that the Chica9o Tribune published the whole version of the New Testamentdn a single special issue on May 22, 1881. The Woman's Bible. The idea appears to have been born in the mind of Elizabeth Cady Stanton. ¯ In a stout pamphlet, published in New York, 1897, the lady having appointed a tentative commit- .tee of twenty-three women, .instructed each member to purchase a Bible and go through it from Genesis .to Revelation, marking all' .the. passages, in which women were mentioned, these passages were then to. be cut out and pasted in a black book, and correct readings and " comments thereon written underneath. OUR CONTRIBUTORS SIST]~ M. BONAVENTURE, of the Sisters of St. Francis of Sylvania," Ohio, has been teaching graduate courses in Engl,ish at the Catholic University, Washing-ton, D.C.', for more, than a decade. NICH(~LAS H. RIEMAN, who has directed So-dalities as a Scholastic, is now' studying theQlogy at West Baden College, West Baden, Indiana. WILLIAM M. STRITCH writes from Campion High School, Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin. " ~ REPRINTS OF ~PONSA CHRISTI In May and July, 195 I, we p~inted the Apostblic Constitution, Sponsa Christi, and'the explanatory in'struction of the Sacred Congregation. of Religious. We now ha~e~some reprints of thi~ material that we can sell in sets' 6f ten and multiples of t.en., . The .price is one dollar for ten copies, and a dollar for each additional set, of ten. Please enclose payment with yohr order and address it to: REVIEW'FOR RELI- 61OUS, St.'. Mary's College,. St." Marys," Kansas: '." 1~2. Un ,"g e"n ,kDu si eFili us Pope Plus XI Apostolic Letter Addressed to the Suprem, e Heads of Religious Orders on the Care of Religious DisciplineI [.EDITOR'S NOTE: The ptirpose of this important document, in the wdrds of its author, Pope Pius XI, is: "to urge members of religious institutes, both those who are already priests and those who are candidates for the priesthood, to the study of the sacred learning, the absence of which would~ prevent them from performing with full competence the functions of their vocations." 'It is printed here at the request of a number of our subscribers. Though directed chiefly to religious clerics, the content, particularly the'sections indicating how sound theological learning can deepen the interior life, may also provide other religious with material for fruitful meditation. Sub-titles have been inserted.] BELOVED Sons: Health and Apostolic Benedictioia. The only-begotten Son of God, entering the world to re-deem mankind, was not content with imparting those sp[r.itual precepts the observance of which brings ~ill men to their:appointed .end. He ~eclared. also that those who wished to follow His foot-stbps more closely should embrace and practice~ the evangelical counsels. Whoever pledges himself by vow to observe these counsels strips himself not only of those encumbrances which retard our progress on the road to ordinary sanctity--riches, family cares, or immod-erate liberty in the.use of material things--but mox~es so directly and unreservedly towards a life of perfection as to seem almost to have attained'the haven of eternal salutation. ' ~. Wherefore from the earliest Christian era there have never been wanting souls who have harkened to the whisper of¯ God and, nobly and' generously denying themselves all things, have entered the way of perfection and indomitably persevered therein. Histor~ witnesses continuously to the sacred army of men and women who have con-secrated and pledged themselves to God in various religious Orders and congregations which, through the centuries, the Church has solemnly approved and ratified. ¯ N~r do these _religious communities bear the same unvarying spiritual character. The life of perfection, though in essence unchangeabie, inanifests itself in a variety of fruitful forms. In. 1AAS 16:133-48 (1924) ~ 183 POPE PIUS XI Review for 'Relioiofis separate and distinctive manners, with diversified exertions of charity and zeal'do the varidus orders Of religious S6uls, according to the ~pecial ways of theii'institutes, pursue th~ ~16ry of Gdd and the sal- . vati~n of their neighbor. . , From this wide diversity of. religious orders, as ~rom trees "of." manifold species in God's spiritual garden, springs a.gloriouslvariety of spiritual fruit unto the salutation of men. Such striking complex- " ity of fo~m with basic unity of design, such identity 'of aim v~ith precise distinction of spheres, presents a .spectacle of impressive and monumental ,beauty. It is a dispensation of Divine Providence that new needs of,the .times should call forth and nourish r~eligious congregations specially adapted to the meeting of these fresh exigencies. And so the Apostolid See. under whose standard religious orders pHr~arily serge, mindful of th~ blessings which at all times they have cbnferred upon. the Church and Upo, n civil society, h~as ever cherish[d these holy instkutes with peculiar solicitude and affectl0n. , The sti~reme pontiff has always rdserved tohimself the approvin~ and confirming their constitutions and statutes: he h~is in times of crisis tirel~ss'ly defended them from their' adversaiies: and'. when. occasion.so demanded, he has not been slow in rec~illing them-to their pristine.observanCe and to their original reverence for the glori-ous ideals 0f their respective rules. This great concern of the Church that religious men Should be pre-erfiinent in adherence to the holy laws of thei? order and that they should constantly increase in perfection, is manifested by the solemn decrees and exhortations of the Council of Trent. "Let all regulars, both men and'-women, mold and regulate their lives in keei~ing with.the iule fhey. profess; particularly let them faithfully -observe whatever pertains to the perfection of their professibn, the vows 0f poverty, chastity, and.obedience, and any others which may be peculiar to.their particular institute or ha~,e bearing ,on th~ ,ob-servance of common life, both in food and in clothing.''z ~ The Code of Canon Law, in its.preface to the section on regula-tions for religious men and women, b_r[efly describes and defines th~ religious life as'being ao"stable mode of. living in common by which ,the faithful, undertake, besides the ordinary precepts of the faith. ~he evangelicalcou~asels through the'instrumentality ~of the yows of obedience, chas~ity~, and poverty . . . and thus proceed in the way,of ZSess. XXV. c. I". De Reoul. i84 July, 1952 UNIGENITUS e~angdical perfection." Thi~ religious state, declares the Code dis-tirictlE, is: to be ."esteemed highly by all."3 Tb extent indeed of Our ~onfidence in the virtue ~f religiou's men, and in their helpful co-operation, We ha~e-already demon-strated in Our .encyclical letter Ubi Arcano, affectionately addressed tO the bishops of the Catholic world'. We ~said therein, that for,more. than one reason we relied ~r,eatly. on the regular clergy acthally:t.o apply the remedies We bad proposed to meet the many evils under which human society was laboring. ¯ Further, in Our former letter on the supervision of .clericfil studies, addressed to the Cardinal Prefect of the Sacred Congregation for Studies in Seminaries and Universities, in the identical embrace of Our purpose and~in Our deep solicitude to proyide for the training of clerics called to the sacred ministry, We included_equ~liy as~well' member~ of religiou~ orders, since what we ¯therein observ.e.d and decr~ed affectedthem in great measure too. at least such as are destined, for. the priesthood. Nevertheless, We are urged, dearly beloved sons. ,by Our loving and vigilant concern for your goo.d, to address, you byspeCial letter and to present certain admonitions to you which if your spiJ:itual sons will but observein their conduct and intercourse.thei'r pro-- -cedure and the whole tenor of,their lives will undoubtedly be such as is impera(ively demanded of them by. the truly unique and ~sub- -lime voc~ition.¯really divine, which is theirs. Revet:ence for Fot~nder First of all. We exhort religious men to ~'egard the founder of ~their order.as the supreme example to befollowed. The "religious who so regards the father" and lawgiver of his institute, will .more certainly and more abundantly partic'ipate in the divine grace deriv, ing from a religious vocatiofi. It is-abundantly clear that those men of" pre-eminent sanctity, When they established their religious congregations, obeyed a divine impulse. As long, therefore, as the son reproduces in his life °the special mode of sahctity conceived by th~ father as the distinctive mark 8f the congregation, the son will not be recreant to the obliga-tion'assumed whefi he entered religioh. Wherefore let religious men. as devoted sons, dire~t their thought and care to defend, the honor of their founder and father both by obedience, to hi~ .pre.s~'riptions and admonitions, and by imb,fing 31C 487[ 488 POPE~ PlUS Reoiew [or Religious themselves with his spirit. Nor will they. fall from their estate as long as they walk in the footsteps of their founders: "And their-children for their .sakes remain forever. Would that religious would so loyally adber,e to the rules of their institute and so retain the manner, of life established, that ithey would show themselves ever.y day more worthy of the religious state. Such fidelity cannot fail to win for the manifold ministries which they exercise' at all times the powerful support of heavenly graces. In all our activities let us seek only the kingdom of God and His justice: and this should be the sole objective in those works which, beloved son~, are wont to occupy the efforts Of most of your spit, itual subjects: sacred missions, and, the. education of youth. As for " the,apost.olate,-.let them take care thai in their'foreign missions, as My predecessor wisely admonishes,s they do not employ ~he Gospel to further the interests of their country or to increase its ppwer. Let them r~ither !ook'only to the eternal salvation of the infidels, while at the same time. elevating their material standards of living to the extent that this may fo[ward their progress to eternal happiness. Those religious whose duty it is rightly to instruct and educate youth-must be especially careful lest, too much preoccupied with training theik students to excellence in fine arts, they so neglect the religious development of their minds and hearts that their students enter the world wellZinstructed indeed in letters, but totally ignorant of sacred, science. LWhoever lac,,ks this is deprived of themost precious and most beautiful of all adornments and. lives in the greatest empti-~ hess of soul: "All men are vain, in whom there is not the knowledge of God.''6 The Seraphic Doctor speaks appositely in this .regard: "This is the fruit of learning, that faith should be built up in all men, tha.t God should be honored, morals elevated, and those conso-lations derived which/pring from the union of the beloved with. her divine.SpouSe through supernatural dharity.''z I. BENEFITS OF SACRED LEARNING Since it is of the highest importance that this knowledge of sacred science should be held in the greatest esteem and deeply imbibed by the mihisters of the Church, the chief concern, of this Our exhorta-tion is tO urge members of. religious institutes, both those'who are 4Ecclesiasticus 44 : 1 "~ 5Epist." Apost. Maximum Iliad, November 30, 1919 6Wisdom 13:1 7De Reductione Atrium ad Theol., n. 26 186 Ju/g, 1952 UNIGENITU~' already" priests and those Who are candidates for the priesthood, to the study of the sacredlearning, the absence of which would pre-vent them. from performing with full competence the functions of their vocation. For those who have conseciated themselves to God the one, or certainly the chief, obligation is that of prayer and the contemplation or meditation on divine things. How can they rightly fulfill tlqis solemn duty without, a profound and intimate compre- _hension of ~h~ doctrine of faith?. The necessity of such study'We 'urge on those pa~iicul~rly who devo'te their lives to divine contem-plation in the cloister. Such souls ~rr indeed if they believe that after having previously, neglected or later discontinued their theological "studies, the$ can, though deprived of that copious kn.owledge 9f God and the mysteries of faith which is derived from the sacred sciences, readily move in a high spiritual plane and be'lifted up and borne. aloft to interior union with God. 'Help in Apostolate As to those who are engaged in teaching or preaching or in the cleansing of souls in the sacrameht of penance, or are sent on sacred missions or pursue tti~ir ministry in daily familiar intercourse with people, shall not .the vigor and efficacy, of these manifold activities be in exact' proportion to the high degree of erudition" with .which they are perfected, and adorned? The Holy Spirit, too, the Paraclete, by.the lips of His prophet, has proclaimed the priest's n~ed of a comprehensive and in~imatel knowledge of sacred science: "The lips of the priest shall keep knowledge.''s How can solid theological learning be lacking in the legate of the Lord of wisdom,9 that legate who is minister and doctor of the New ;F~stament, ~alt of the earth,~° and light.of the-world,n the legate .by whose tongue the Christian people recei;ce the words of eternal life? " Let those trembl~ for themselves, therefore, who approach the sacred ministry with minds ill-equipped with holy learning:. Not unscathed shall they stand in their lack of preparation, before Lord, who has spoken the awful threat: "Because thou hast rejected. kn6wledge, I will reject thee, that thou shalt not do the office of pi'iesthogd to Me.;'~2 Moreover,.if ever in the past it behooved the 8Malachias 2 : 7 9I Kings 2 : 3 l°Matthexv 5 : 1 3 ~20see 4 : 6 187. POPE PIUS XI - " ' \ Rebietu For Religious ¯ priest to be adorned with le.arning, much more so is thai .quahty required of hin~ in thes~igresent times when in,.all spheres of human activity learning arid science are valued at such high ,price and are so closely bound" therewith that men, even thuse who are less wise-- as.is almostalwi~ys the case boast that whatever they do, the3/do in [he hattie of science:. So. let us strive with intense earnestness that the Catbolic /aith be sustained b.y the support and protection of human learning of every kind. In the light which thislearning casts th~ beauty of revealed truth will .be Unfolded before ~he eyes of, all and tile falsity of the ¯ captious chaYges ~vhidh pseudo-science is wont .to heap up against the ¯ ~dogmas i~f faith will be exposed as. occasion may requite. ' For. as'Te~tulliamhas so beautifully written: our faith "anxious-ly desires one, thirig.only, that she benot condemned unheard.''u In the same connection, let .us not forget the "words of Jerome: "Piety Without culture profits itself alone, find, however much by personal merit it builds up Christ's church, it yet equally harms her by silence in the faceof her adversaries . ~. It is the priest's duty, to answer whenever ~he law is calleqdue isnti o.n. -, And so the priest, "both secular and regular, must. propagate Catholic doctrine as widely as possible, and illuminate and defend it. This,doctrine of the Church not only contains all that is needed to" refute and disprove any objections which may b.e ¯urged against it, but., ~rovided it be,clear_Iv, explained, cannot fail to draw~ souls to " itself, if only they" be free from p, rejudice. This truth'was not missed by the great doctors ~Sf,the so-called Middle Ages. Led by Thdmas Aquinfis and Bonaventure they exerted themselves to, drink as defiply as possible of the waters'of divine wisdom and go comm,unica,te their knowledge to others. ' - Help for Interior Life There is, beloved sons, the furthe~ advantage that the v~y effort of mind and talent and powers which you~ members will expend in the pursuit Of.}hese studies will effect that they will imbibe the reli-gio, us. spirit more deeply and-will fittingly sustainthe honor and digni.ty of the exalted state of life Which they have embraced. For h~e who ~nters upon the study of theology addresses himself to a weig,.hty task indeed; and one invoIving, intense labor and'heavyin,- convenience. It is a task admitting no slothfulness or laziness, which ~3Apol., I . l~Epist, ad Paul.in,. LIII- (al. CIII) , 188 July, 1952 . UNIGENITUS is the mother and mistress of many evils.15 But the earnest student, applying,himself wholeheartedly to this truly hard intellectual labo} acquires the habi~ not onlyofcirc~umspection in ju~gmeht and' delib-eration in act, but repres~ses also and 'dominafes more easily hi~ pas-sions wh'ich, .if allowed loose rein,' grow steadily Wors~ and hu}ry the s.oul tothe abyss of all vices. In this iegard Jerome writes: "Love the scienc~ of Holy Scrip'ture and y~u will. not love the vices of the flesh.':16 And again~: "The knowledge of the S~,riptur~s begets virgins. 17 But the religious man shouldbe urged to these studies by a fur-t- her motive the.re~li.zation of the gra~city .of the obligation, arising from his very vo~atioi~, of achieving a' perfect degree of virtue. It is clearly imt3ossible for anyone to progress efficaciously toward perfec-tion and to reach it safely without practicidg the interior life. But can this interior life be developed and strengthened by an.y more effectiv~ means than the study of-things divine? ~Persistent and daily meditation on those marvelous gifts of nature and of grace and on ~individual men will cohsecrate one's thbugh~ts and feelings, and lift them. up to heavenly things; .nay more, it fills men With the spirit of faith and unites them in closest intimacy, with God. For, who reproduces in himself more perfectly the image of Christ, 2esus than he who ass~rnilates to his v.ery.flesh and blood the dog,matic and moral truths of divine revelation.?. 'Most wisely,, then, did the founders" of religious °orders. fol-lowing the lead of the Fathers and Doctors of the Church, ~ommend with more than ordinary earnestness to their sons the .study of the sacred sciences, o It has. bdsides, been proved by experience, beloved, sons, that those of your religious who most devotedly have'-applied their intellects to the study of the teachings of the faith, have as a rule been all the more successful in achieving a higher and more com-prehensive degree of sanctity; whil(on the contrary,.those who have neglected this sacred duty have often lfipsed into tepidi'ty and have sunk not infrequently into a condition of spiritual deterioration in- 'volving even the violati6n of their vowS. Wherefore, let all religious remember the words of Richard of St.Victor: "Would that each of us Would immerse himself in these studies all the day long until" the sun set, until the love of vain things graduallygrow weak. until the heat of concupiscence be extinguished and the Wisdom of~carnal pru- ¯ lSEcclesiasticus 3 3 : 2 9 ~6Epist. ad Rust. CXXV. (al. IV) ~TComm. ~fi Zach, ].II, c. l O 189 ¯ POPE PIUS XI : Revleu2 for Reliflious ~d~nce grow cold.''~s .We exhort religious men also to make their own .the prayer of St. Augustine: "May Thy Scriptures be mY ,chaste delight" may I not err in them, nor deceive because of them.''19 II. DIRECTIVES FOR TRAINING.OF CLERICS Since, then, the constant and attentive pursuit of sacred doctrine brings such rich emoli~ments tb religious men, it,is clear, beloved sons, how weighty, is your obligation to provide for your subjects every opportunity for theological study and' for continued contact, with theological science, at every subsequent stage of their religious life. We must realize, moreover, how much future, candidates for religion are benefited by a proper formation and training of their mind and will from their earliest years. In the first place, in these courupt times Christian education is sadly neglected, in the home ~nd the young, exposed to widely prevalent snares of evil, are deprived of , that solid religious instruction which alone has power to mold char-acter in conformity with the divine commandments or even with a .humanly decent.mod~ of life. It follows, therefore, that yqu can take no more advaptageous measure in this regard than the establish-ment of preparatory seminaries and c011~ges for yourig men who give some indication of possessing a religious vocation. We observe with deep satisfaction that in a goodly n, umber of places such insti'tutions are in fact being founded. In this matter, however, you are,to take to heart the admonition.addressed by Ou'r predeces~sor, 'Pius X, of 'holy memory, to the superiors of the Dominican Order. The Pontiff warne'd against admitting too readily, or ifi too great numbers youths whose aspirations after that hol'y manner c;f life are not certainly i~- spired from on high.-,° After having given long and prudent consid7 eration therefore to the selection of young men as candidates for the religious life, ~ou "will take great care that, along with instruction in piety suited to their years, those lower subjects be taught them which are usually taught in the q~mnasia,~'I so that'they do not enter the ¯ novitiate before they have finishe'd the humanities, unless indeed a sufficiently, sound reason advises otherwise in a particular instance. It is an obligation not only of charity but even of justice that you should display the utmost assiduity and diligence in this matter¯ of the education of your young candidates. If by reason of the small 18De ditT. sacrif. Abr. et Mariae, I 19Conf., lib. XI, c. 2, n. 5 20EpiSt. Cure Primum, ad Mag. Gem O.P., August 41 1913 ~1IC 589 190 dulg~ 1952 UNIGENI ,TUS: number of members in an institute, br for other reasons, a province¯ has insufficient facilities fo} imparting this education prescribed by canon law, let the young men be sent¯ to anothe~ province or to another seat of learning where they can be properly taught according to the directions of canon 587. Preparator~l Schools In i'he lower ~chools, however, let the injunction of canon 136~4 " be religiously followed: ':The most honored place in the curriculum is to .be awarded to religious instruction, diligently imparted in a manner suitable to the ability and age of each one." For this instruc-tion, furthermore, only those books are to be used which are approved by the ordinary. It is to be remarked incidentally ~hat even students of scholastic philosophy should not omit this study of Christian doc-trine. They will most profitably use that golden book, the Roman Catechism, a work in which one is at a loss which to admire more, the wealth of sound doctrine or the elegance bf the Latin style. If your clerics, from tbeir earliest youth, accustom themselves to draw their knowledge of sacred truth from that fount, they will not. 9nly come to theology better prepared, but also, .from familiarity with ¯ that "excellent book they will learn how to teach the peopl,e wisely and to combat with skill the lie~ which are wont to be chattered against revealed truth. , , Those iniunctions which, in Our Apostolic Letter Ot~ciorum Ornnium, We addressed to the diligent attention Of the Catholic bishops concerning study.of the Latin tongue, We urge and co.mmand youalso, beloved sons, to observe in your literary schools; for to you also pertains that law of the Code which, concerning students pre-paring for holy orders, says: "Let them be carefully taught languages~ particularly. Latin and their native tongue.''22 The high imp.ortance bt~ an accurate knowledge of Latin in your young religious is sug-gested by a multitude of reasons. Not only does the Church.employ that lang.uage as a servant and bond of unity; but we also iead the .Bible in Latin, we chant and offer the Holy Sacrifice in Latin, and we perform.in .that tongu~ nearly all ttie sficred rites. The Roman Pontiff, besides, addresses and teaches the Catholic world in' Latin, and the Roman Curia employs no other tongue in ,tra6sacti~g its business and in formulating decrees which apply to all the faitht~ul. He who is n~t well 'versed. iri Latin is much embarrassed in his ap- 2alC 1364, 2° 191 POPE PlUS XI Review for Relig~ous, proach to,~thos( rich v61ume~ of the Cht~rch's Fathers: and Doctors, many of whom used no' Other medium of expression in explaining '.and defending Christian.dbctrine. -Let it then.be your earnest aim that your clerics, destined for ".the .future ministry of the Church, shall attain a real:mastery of'and a very practica!.familiarity with that language. Novitiates " ¯ Their p~ri~paratory studies concluded, the students and all.c~andi-dates, whose determination to consecrate themsel~ces "to Godhas been proved and whose good character, more than mediocre mental gifts, spirit of piety; and integrity of morals have been established to the satisfaction of their dffectors, may be admitted to the novitiate. I~ th.e"'no~ritia~e, as in a sort of training ground, they shall, learn .by actual practice the principles and virtues of the religious life. How impc~rtant it is that.the souls:of the candidates should be " mos~ carefully trained during-this period of n6vitiate may be learned. not only from the testimony of masters of the religious life. but "most of all from experience. This latter teaches that no' one reaches and maintains'himself in a state of religiou~ perfecti0n~unless he has first laid in his soul the foundations ofall the virtues. Wherefore let the novices, eschewing all profane studies and othe~ attractions. concentrate entirely, under th'e guidance of their directors, 6n the exercises of theinterio.r life and the acquisition, of virtues, tfiose par-ticula. rly .which are most intimately connected and associated with the vqws Of religion poverty, obedience, and chastity. "Extremely helpful to this end will be the reading arid considera-tion of the Writings of St. Bernard, of ,the Seraphic Doctor Bona-ventuie, and of Alphonsus Rodrigud-z, as well as.~of those spiritual masters who are the special ornaments of each particular institute. Time has dot only failed to dim or lessen the, force and e~cacy of these teachers~ but has even heightened their Val~e in this our day. Nor should the novice ever forget that such as h~. is in the novitiate. so shall he be during the rest of his hfe: and after a tepid, or misspent noviceship the possibility of,supplying for what has been missed in the novitiate by renovation of spirit is usually~a forldrn and base-less hope. Philosophy and Theology . ~ Thereupon you shotild see to it, beloved sons, that your subjects. after.completing their noviceship, be ass!gne.d to houses distinguished 192 ,Iu!q. 1952 UNI~ENITU$ for ~obs~'r~ahce of your' holy ~ules. Tl~ese houses should offer also° facilines for the most profitable and exact course of philosophy and theology, made" in accordance, with definite and ordered procedure. Definite and or'tiered procedure, ~Ve said: that' is, not only should there be no promotion to a. higher grade without sufficient evidence of p~oficiency in the lower, but there must not even be any~¢u.rtail-ment or~omission of any part of.a course, nor any abbreviation of the t~ime t6 be devoted to a branch of study, as prescribed by the ,Code. Unwise, thereforev--to speak conservat.ively are those superiors who," pressed perhaps by time and necessity and desirous of availing themselves of their subjects' ministries as soon as possible, wish their subjects to receive their trai.ni~g for the priesthood by a sort .of accelerated method. Has not experience proved that those who h.av.e made their studies hurriedly and wittioiat thoroughness c~n scarcely .ever, if at' all, remedy this defect in their training, and that whatever little ,advantage may at timCs have been gained from this advanced reception of orders eventually fades away and vanishes, since these religious must of ne~cessity be less .apt for t~ ministry? Take care. moreover, lesf your youiag religious, .while studying philosqpfiy and theology, should grow yold in their struggle for virtue. On the con-" trary they should continue to a~rail themselves of the services of the most learned masters of the spiritual .life, so that finally, as behooves religious men, they shall display in themselves solid, learning joined to holiness of life.- And here We cha.rge you with special earnestness to exercise care in selecting eminen.tly suitable instructorsin the higher studies, mas-ters who~elife will be wo~rthy models for the imitation of all. Their proficiency, too, must be pre-eminent .in that subject which it is their office to teachl And~so, no one'should act either as.professor.,or instructor unless he has completed with merit the course of philos-ophy, theology, and allied branches, and has proved his possession of sufficient equipment and skill as a teacher. We .c.all your attentionfurthermore, to this injunctioh of the Code of Canon Law: "Provision must be made th'at there be separate masters for at least the following subjects: Sacred "Scripture, dogmatic theology, moral theology, and ecclesiastical history,"~ These m~is- "ters should spare no effof~ to'ffansform, th,eir sthdents into holy and tireless apostles of Ch. rist, equipped with those ornaments of learnirig 1,93 POPE P~usXI Reuieu~ for R~ligious and prtidence by" which they Will b~ abl4 not only"to instruct the simple and ignorant, but also to refute those, puffed up by what. is fallaciously called science. They will. be able likewise to preserve' all. from the contagion of error which, because it usually is presented so speciously and cunningly, is calculated to beget and inflict greater damage on souls. . But if happily, by God's grace, your subjects p.roceed wi'th gen-erous spirit in the straight paths of Christian learning and become greatly proficient therein, the labor which you best6w,-beloved sons, on this so salutary task will reward and rejoice .you with a most abundant fruit beyond .your. fondest expectations. ¯ Further, We exhort you to regard as holy and inviolable those words which, in accord with the spirit of canon law, We wrote in Our'apostolic letter on seminaries and the studies of clerics. Therein We urged that, in teaching the precepts of 15hilosophy and theology, masters should follow faitl~fully the scholastic methdd according tO the principles and doctrines of Aquinas. For who ~an deny that the scholastic discipline and the angelic wisdom of St. Thomas--that discipline and method praised so repeatedly and enthusiastically by Our predecessors--have a native efficacy both f6r tl'Je illustration of divin~-truth and for the marvelous refutation 6f the errors of every age? In the words of Our predecessor of immortal memory, Leo XIII, the Angelic Doctor "so abundantly rich in divine and huma.n science, so comparable to the very sun . has by his sole efforts brought it hbout that all the errors of past ages have been refuted by one man, and invincible alms have beeh supplied for the defeat of th.ose errors which will arise in endless succession through the ages.''2a Most a'ppositely contintJes the same Pontiff: '"Let those who Wish to be truly philosophers~and such must be the. especial desire of religious men--let those l~ay the first principles and foundations of their doc-trine in Thomas Aquinas.''25 How much it behooves your spiritual sons to hew close to the . general line of scholastic doctrine is abundantly evident. Perceiving the intimate relationship existing between philosophy and revelation, the Scholastics-d, eveloped and synthesized that wonderful mutual concordance, in such wise that philosophy and revelation afford each other light and the maximum of support." Nor can these two s.ci- 24En~ycl. Aeterni Patris 25Epist. Nbstra Erga, N6vember 25, 1898 194 ,Iulg, 1952 UNIGENITUS ences contradiqt each oth'er, as some madly assert, for both derive from God, the suprem'e and eternal truth; and while philosophy manifests the findings o'f reason, re~elation displays the firm data of faith. Indeed the two sciences are so mutually in harmony that each c.ompletes the other. Hence it follows that from an ignorafit and untrained philosopher a learned theologian can never be educed: and, contrariwise, he w~o is igno.r~ant of divine truth can never be a per-fect phil.osopher. In this regard St. Thomas says truly: "From the principles of faith .new knowledge is derived for the faithful, as from.the prin-ciples of natural reason new knowledge is derived for all; hence theology is a science." In other words, just as from reason, which is a participation in divine Wisdom, philosophy derives'the basic prin-ciples of nattiral cognition, and declares and ex.plains them, so from, the light of supernaturaI revelation,, which by its splendor" illumines and completes t, he intellect, theology borrows, develops, and explains the truths of faith. These two sciences are two rays f~om the same sun, two rivers from the same source, two edifices resting,on the same foundation. Of high dignity indeed is human science, provided it submits obediently to the truths of faith. If these truths are disregarded, human science must i,nevltably ~nd inexorably fall into numberless errors and deceits. But if, beloved sons, your subjects command the sum of human knowledge which they have beap'ed up for tbem~elg.qs to'act as handmaid and servant to that science which is divine; and if~ besides~ they glo,w with an arderit love and desire for revealed truth, they will be true men of God and will be .universally regarded as such; and'by word and example, they will.do much fo'r the peop!e ~of God. For, "'all Scripture is inspired by God"--or as the Angelic Doctor explains this passage( sacred doctrinal is perceived by the light .of divine revelation--"and useful for teaching, for reprovifig, for. correcting, for instructing in justice; that the man of God ma) be perfect, equipped for every good work.''26 Spirit of Faith .But in the ,case of young religious, the first {equirement is that 'their spirit of faith should be" nourished to vigor. Otherwise.they, shall to no avail engage themselves in this boundless field of divine and. human .knowledge: for, if the spirit of faitb is weak, the stu- 262 Timothy 3 : 16-17 ¯ PoPE PIU~ XI Review fbr Relipious dent,"like one. blind, cannot penetrat~e into the. profun, dities'.pf .super-na~ ural truths. Nor is itof less importance'that the religious shpuld albproach °his studies with a,pure intention. -"There are some Who wish to 2~arn,'~ warns St. Bernard, ".solely .in order to l(arn; and ~his is base curiosity . There are o~her~ who wish to learn in order to sell their knowledge, perhaps for money, perhaps for honors: and. this is ba~e t~affic. But there are also those who wi~h tO learn in order that'they themselves m~y.be buildedl and this, is prudence,''27 In their above-mentioned studies, therefore, your young religious should propose to. themselves this one aim: that they "please God and, . win for themselves "and for their r~eigbbor the. greatest, pbssible spir-itual emoluments. And in science disjoin, ed from virtue there is more of offense and danger than of true utility for those who b~come proud by reason of their learning lose the gift of faith and blindly plunge headlong t° their souls' destruction--your sons must with all .assiduity cultivate the virtue of humility,, necessary f0~ all indeed~ ' but especially to bestriven after by students: and ~they must plant it firmly.in their hearts mindful as they are that God alone is sub- ~tantial wisdom and whatever man possesses, no matter, how.pro-found, is .as nothing compared with the vast sum of learning of which he is ignorant. Beautifully to the point speaks St Augustine: '" 'Knowledge,' says the'Apostle, 'puffeth up.' What then? SbSuld you flee knowl-edge and ch6os~ to know nothing rather than to be puffed up? Why should I address you i~ it is better.to b'e ignorant than learned? Love knowledge', but prefer charity. Knowledge, if it, be alone. "puffeth up. But because charity~buildeth up, it permits no( knowl-edge to be puffed up. Knowledge puffeth, up therefore where cbarity-do~ s not build up; where charity bu!IdL yp, knowledge is made Your sons, therefore, if indeed'they pursue their' studies with: that spirit 0f~charity and devotion frbm which all other virtu'es have their Origin and b~ing, would be like a medicinal fragrance warding. off ,the fear" of corruption: and by. their gifts of doctrine will ~ c~r.tainly becbme all the more pleasing in God's sight'and all the more useful toHis Church. " ¯ III. DI~RECTIV~S FOR 'LAY RELIGIOUS~ it now remains for us to turn our thoughts to those" religious ~7In Cant. serrao XXXVI~, ~Sermb CCCLIV ad Cont., c. ~I _duly, 1957. . UNIGENITUS who,ltl~ough not called to.the dignityof the priesthood, have pro-nounced, the same vows, of r~l.igion as the priests, and are .not less obliged to God ahd bound by the duty of acquiring perfection. That they .also, though unversed in letters or the higher mental disciplines, may achieve the loftiest grades of sanctity i~ evident from',the fact. that many of them indeed have won by reason of the eminent holi-ness' of.their lives the loud.and, constant praise of the Catholic world, or have even been" inscr!bed.by the authority of the Roma~ Pontiffs in .the number of the saint~, to be regarded and invoked as patrons. and intercessors before God. These con~ersi, or lay,, religious, "who, because 6f their special status are free from those da'ngers which not infrequently :'fac~ the priest 15y reason of the very dignity of his office, enjQy substantially the same spiritual privileges and aids which religious institutes with mater~al:providence commonly share indiscrimina~tely .with itheir ~hildren. It .is just. thin, that the lay religious should value highly- ¯,the gift of their vocation, and return thanks to God for the gift. often renewing the determinatiQn which they made on the d~y'of ~:heir ~orofession. that they would live.according to the spirit of their reli- . gious bule to their last bre~ith of life. And here., beloved-sons, We cannot refrain from remindilag you how weighty is youy obligation to see to it thatthe !ay.religiotis, both" during the time of their probation and during the remainder of their -life, are adeqtiatels~.:supplied With those spiritual hell~whlch~th£y. so much need to make progress and to persevere. They are perhaps all the haore in need of these aids by.reaSon c;ftheir humble eondition.hnd hurfibl~ ministries. " ~Vherefor , .superiors, in selecting the.dwelling places and duties " of the la~y religious, should take careful account of the character of each and the possible weaknesses of each;.and if'sometimesthese spir-itual sons should show a decrease of ardor in the'performance of their 'obliga~tions.as religious, no paternal solicitude and effort should be sl~afed in recalling them g~ntly but firmly to holin.ess, of life: And particularly should superiors make it their constant concern either themselves to instruct the lay religious in the eternal and fun-damental truths ofthe faith, or to commit this.duty of instrtic~ion to ~competent priests. The knowledge and frequent meditation off these truths will be a powerful spur to th~ virtue of all, whether those whose,work is confined to the cloister or thos who live in tl~e world. The,above admonitions We wish to extend also to all ,congrega- 197 t .POPE PlUS XI tlons Of lay religious. For. t-he'members of these congregations there is indeed ~required .a fuller 2knowl~dg~ Of Chri_stian doctrine and an~ erudition beyond mediocrity, since theY are. frequently .engaged, according to their institute, in the instruction of boys and young men. Such are the thbughts, beloved sons~ which We desired from a heart filled with phternal~ love to address to you concerning the direc-tion of your curricula of study, as well as concerning some other matters of scarcely, lesg importance. These thoughts and injunctions, We.feel sure, you will follow with alacrity and devotion, both be-cause of your affection to'cards Us and because of your zeal for the advancement of your respective institutes. May Our words be fixed deep in the hearts of your novices and scholastics, and bring, by the intercession of your founders and fathers, an abundance of blessings and benefits. In conclusion, as an augury of grace and an evidence of Our. paternal love towffrd .yoursel;ces, beloxied sons,, and all tl-ie religious commit}ed to your charge~ We bestow upon eacl~ and all of you, with the deepgst affection, Our ApoStolic Benediction. '" Giveri at Rome, ih St~ ¯Peter's, the nineteenth day of March, on the Feast of. St. Joseph, spouse' of the Virgin .Mary Mother of God, in the year 1924, the third of of Our pohtificate. Pius PP.XI . BOOKS FOR PRIESTS Two re~ent books of help for priests are THE PEOPLE'S [SRIEST, by' John C, Heenan, and PRIESTLY BEATITUDES, by Max Kassiepe, O.M.[., translated by A. Simon, .O.M.I. Both authors, the former who is now Bishop of Leeds in England, and the latter, an experienced ,German missionary, chaplain, and superior, know what they are talking about. The Peotgle's Priest, written for diocesan priests by one of them, is full of-practical, common sense, pastoral guidance, that is inspired throughout by an enlightened appreciation of the beautiful relationship that exists between the good i~riest.and his peo~ple. (New. Y0rk: Shoed ~ Ward, 1952, Pp. xi q- 24'3. $2.75.) Priestly Beatitudes contains twenty-two sermons.for a priest's retreat. In general, the talks follow the usual development according-to The Soiritual Exercises of St. lynatius with the merit of a constant advertence and application to a priest's life. The ring of authenticity is unmist'akable. (St. Louis: B. Herder Book Co., 1952. ,Pp. v + 393.S5.00.) '. FOR oRGANISTS AND CHOIRMA~s'rERs Father \Vinfrid Herbs.t, S.D.S. has helpfully 'got,herod together in a convenient booklet answers to many questions that often confront church musicians. This pamphlet, lnformdtion /'or Organists and Cboirmdsters, can be obtained from the Salvatnrian Fathers,' St. Nazianz, Wisconsin. Let:i:er !:o a Mas!:er-ol: Novices. L. Ganganelli [ED1TOI~'S NOTE[ This letter is said to have'been written by Fra Lorenzo Ganga-nelli, who late.r .became Pope Clement XIV, to a ,Jesuit in England 4¢ho had been .a former student. We cannot guarantee the authorship, but-the content of the letter is of value to every one.] Reverend Father, The office that you discharge requires as much gentleness as firm-ness. You must bear in mind that although a religious should be .circumspect in his demeanor, yet you cannot expect the same gravity from a young man as from. his elders. Ttie special gift of a nbvice master ~ons]sts in bei'ng able to recogni.ze the source from which.his novices' shortcomings proceed, in order to humble them if they are due to pride, to stimulate them if they arise from indolence,, to mor-tify .them if they p.roceed from sensuality, to check them if they spring*from impatiense. You must see .that your.young men are always .occupied. Besides .fixing their minds and restraining their imaginations, emploYment brings out their talents. In the case of-some, these develop slowly, but with a little patience and insight it is not hard to tell whether the cloud will be pierced at length by the sunbeams.o~ is.doomed to remain dark forever. If you suffer yourself to be carried away by a zealthat is wanting in sweetness, .you-may someday or other dismiss those who" would have been th~ glory of your order. '.They who have most ability are often those who have the most impulsive dispositions, and if one is not,sufficiently master of himself, it may, happen that certain, little sallies of humor, which are nothing more than mere bits of levity, will ruin a young man forever, by causing him t'o be excluded from a state of life where he would have rendered important services to ~b~ Church. ~ Take special care not to observe the same method of direction for all. Onemay need a sharp rebuke, for another a mere glance is enough.Let your silence itself speak, and you will seldom be obliged to give a reprimand. The young almost always imagine that ;t is throtigh ill-humor or the desire to scold that they are constantly receiving admonitions, and often they are not mistaken. Watch carefully, bat without allowing it to be perceived, To betray an appearance of mistrust fosters a spirit of deceit and un- 199 L. GANGANELLI _r o R~view for R¢liqiot~s ~ruthfuln~s. A tone of friendship soothes a ~6vice's feelings, whilst an air ofseverity wounds and irritates him. Scarcely ever~allow a fault to pass unpunished when it goes directly against the religious s~irit, a~n~l give particular heed to whafever offends against, inorality, Purity belorigs to.all Christians. but it is required of priests and reli-gious abo~e all'. You must make a distinction between a fault cord-mitted on the sp.urt. of the moment and a habitual defect. Remember that true virtue is not harsh and that .a smiling countenance inspires~cgnfidence. A cold and severe exterior, ~Imost alx~ays re~els, because, it bears the appearance of pride. ~nusDt ob en owti speu sWh iptheirnf etchtei omne taosou rfeh ro.f f doirs mcreetni oanr.e Ontohte .r~wnigseel tsh, ea nydo u~nogu' will conceive an.aversion, for you. and will weary¯ of piety itself. It is: not the repetition of precepts wh!ch makes novices improve. One ¯ migh~ preach all day long without-accomplishing anything if-prin-ciples are,not inculcated. When the~mind is convinced by reasoning that tl~ere necessarily exists a God. and hence a religion, and that' the. only true one is that which we profess, it does not allow itself to be dhzzled by sophistry; if sin is committed, it is with the conscious-ness of doing wrong. Do~ away with the system of, spying, as a public nuisance. It accustoms people to play the part of hypocrites and false friends. Do not allow yourself to conceive a prejudice against anyone. It' is thr~ugh.such ,prejudices that the innocent are every day. persecuted, -whilst the guil.ty triumph. If something is reported~ to you about a third party; take care tc; inform yourself of the facts of the case. and never condemn anyone.without giving him an ,opportunity to clear himself. Do not chastise withoutprevious warning, unless there is ques-tion of an-offense that demands the immediate infliction of'suitable punishment. Be more indulgent towards ¯secret' faults, as they ,are ,not attended with scandal which is the grea~er evil. Follow the Ggs-pel rule in r~gard to g~ving charitable admonition ~o such as go astray. ",(Remember "seventy times seven" and the father "of the prodigal.) " Do not forager that the y6ung must hhve recreation, and that~the mind is as a soil,"which to yield, greater ,fruit has need of., rest. More-over, ~t is advisable that everything sh'ouldhavethe appearance of being done freely. Obedience becomes an intolerable yoke unless the-superior is careful to lighten its burden. 200 Julg, 19.52 MASTER OF, NOVICES Do not place iff the.hands ~)f your novices any of those apocry-' phal.books which St. Paul" calls old wives tales .--"ineptas autem et afliles fabulas devita." Faith is not supported by lying, and religion is truth itself. Vary the readings of your- young scholars, and for tear ofexciting or mis'directing their imagi.natio.ns, do not apply them exclusively to the contemplative styl~ of works.,¯ Besides, at an age s6.t~nde&the memory must have facts that it can-retain. Above a~ll preserve peace in the midst of your little flock', by endeavoring to lift up the souls entrusted to your care above all the little details of the life of the cloister which only too often degenerates into disputes, hatred, ~nd jeaiousy. Teach them to-be great in the smallest .things, and to impart a value to their:meanest duties by the manner in which they acquit tbemse|v~es.of them. Smother ambition; stir.up emula'tion. Otherwise you will train up proud men or boors. Instil] into your novices an espY'it de corps, but without anything exc.essive. ~ If one is not attached' to the insti-tute to which he belongs, he gra~lually grows weary of his state;" if one is so excessively, he thinks his order hecessary, despises all other religious" communities, and g6es so far as to canonizecertain ~buses t6 which he has become attached through routine or prejudice. Show yourself always even tempered. ¯There is nothing more .ridiculous thhn a man who is unlike himself. The young have a keim eye for deciphering a superior's character. - They are rarely mis-taken in the case of one who is odd or whimsical. It throws them ¯ otit in their calculations and Wins their esteem when they see a supe~ riot who pursues always the same even tenor, showing firmness on all occasions but without any sign¯of.ill-temper. ¯ Avoid familiarity: yet, be less the superior th~.n .the-bosom friend of those.who have been confided to you. Let tb~m find in you a fath'er, and let them understand that it is your grehtest pain to re-. prove them. Show no predilection except towards such as have more wisdom and piety, and let it be only in circumstances in which it may serve as a lesson for the indolent and flighty. Never employ artifice tO bring about the faults that you wish to discover. Such clever tricks" are not consistent With honesty. Let your ~unishmeffts~ be in pro-p~) rtion tO th~ gravity of the faults, and do not go.and make a crime out of certain light transgressions which imply neither malice nor disorder i~f the heart. .It is not by sho.uting that men are corrected. St. F~ancis de 201 L. GANGANELLI Sales used to say that he touched sinners more by professions of friends.hi~ for them than by scolding them. The language, of the Gospel is that of persuasion. Do not 'lead anyone by extraordinary paths and check those who would wish to follow them, unless there be evidence of a stiper-natural call; but these cases are so rare that they cannot serve as a 'law. The time for' mysticism and that sort of pure speculation is gone. It would be dangerous to rec'all it. ' Leave young men free to speak in your presence Without intimi-dating them. It is the way. to discover their interior. In a word, demean yourself as a kind father of a family who does. not wish to make his children either slaves or hypocrites .or dolts but subjects knowing how to render to God His due, to religion its rights, and to so'ciety what belongs to it. The first of all rules is to learn to l'ove the Lord, and to do nothing, that could displease Him. This is the one object of all religious institutions; for you know, Reverend Father, as well as I do, that our regulations would be often puerile, were they not meahs of leading us to God. Every founder has de- . vised such as he thought most suitable for his purpose. Beware of such pedantry as to po, se as one incapable of error and knowing everything. When I was teaching and ~som~thing was asked that I~ did not know, I admitted mY ignor~ance without make-shift of any kind before my pupils themselves, who only esteemed me the more for it. Young people like to ha'ce you put yourself on, a level with them. If I have drawn this paper out at length, it is because the life of a master of novices is a life of details. You might have addressed someone better qualified to speak on the points at issue, but it would have been hard for you t6 hit upon one who would have served you with greater interest. . FRA L. GANGANELLI Convent of the" Holy Apostles, Rbme (between 1760-1769) TEN-YEAR INDEXmSTILL AVAILABLE C0pies~ of the Ten Year Index of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS '(1942-1951) are still available at one dollar per copy. Kindly enclose paym~ent with the order from: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, St.Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. 202 bligher I::ducat:ion and \ "Real Religion" Sister M. Bofiaventure, O.S.F. ALTHOUGH formal higher education is a relatively recent fac-tor in the spiritual life of S!sters, when viewed in the light of the g~neral history of religious .orders,. yet its. impact has already been felt deeply' enough to draw comp.laint, comment, and serious study. Beginning with a consciousness of inadequate.returns f~om university w, ork, as attested by members of various religious communities, the reaction has grown at times to a serious conviction of over-emphasis on intellectual and professional training and a fore-boding tendency to generalize that American religious women of the mid-century 'are more widely instructed but less cultured, less dis-ciplined and balanced than the Sisters of a generation ago. Since th~ blame cannot be lald upon higher education in itself without destroy-ihg the intrinsic meaning o~ the term, we face the alternative that the fault must lie in the relation between the r~ligious and the experi-ences of higher educatior~. The error must be sought in the .formula used for integrating these experiences. For mdst religious, the initi~l mental attitude toward higher educatiori, the acceptance or the denial of its necessity, basically con-ditions all furtbe~ reactions. This facto~ of "necessity" should no longer be debatable: its validity has been pointed out repeated.ly in the authoritatiye language ot~ papal encyclicals and in the exhorta-tions of religious leaders. Yet restatement might be in order. Through the centuries of her existence Holy Mother Church has constantly defined and demonstrated that the scope of education is the whole aggregate of human life, physical and spiritual, intellec-. trial and moral, individual, domestic, and social. Irt his encyclical on Claristian education Plus XI reminds the world that such an edu- .cation can be imparted only by good. teachers thoroughly grounded in the matter they seek to teach, teachers who' have learried to under-stand and evaluate properly all the various aspects of human life-- religious, social, political, industrial, economic, and scientific--in their modern dynamic setting. ~ : Our present Pontiff, Pope Plus XII, has h~ightened this empha-sis. The encycl!cal "Humani Generis" not only stressed the prepara-' 203 SISTER M. BONAVENTURE ," ~ory n~ed ,of higher education but ~reeminence in intellectual le,adership Review foc Religious also sounded a clarion call to : "It is well kn,own how highly the Church re.gar,ds human reason . But reason can perfgrm its functions safely arid well only when properly tiaine~i, that is~ when imbued with that sound philosophy, which has .long been,,as it were, a patrimony . For' this philosophy safeguards the genuine validity of human knowledge . Let them (Catholic teachers) strive with every force and effort to further the progress of the sdences which they teach.let them enga'ge in most careful research.". (N.C.W.C. translatibn, p. 13:) The present picture.of Catholic ~ducation in America.is patent proof that religious are making great efforts tb ~realize the educational ideals of the Church. Today we face smaller, threat of the old accu-shtion that Catholic education is not Catholic enough. But the need to implement .fully our understanding of ed[~cation, to "fulfill the tdrm" remains, and this need is identified with the need for higher education. Translated into specific language, i~means the need for an understanding of present day problems of health, labor, govern-ment. and pehce: fdr contact With the realities which condition mod-ern life--pr.!ces, wages, taxes: for common grounds on which reli-" gi~)us can closely contact those whom they would educate: and, above all, for the ialibre of leadership that will focus attention on the potentialities of Catholic education. To meet this need religious communities must supply active members who are thoroughly famil-iar with the directives of the Holy See for a confused world: leaders who have mastered'bbth the theory and prac.tice of Catholic" action: teachers who can recognize ~ind champion truth wherever.it is found, nor confhse tolerance of persons with the tolerance of false principles: scholars who can chart the course of modern science and ,speak the language of .modern art. Higher learning, then. seen in its true nature and 'function. becomes a necemary .religious activity. Not ~gnly is it completely compatible with spiritual grdwth, but it should be a vital factor in such growth. Since God is Infinite Knowledgeand Wisdom, there is reverent,logic in the observation that "nature rightly developed is a condition for and a more fit subject, of elevatlon to the supernatural order and a more precious dedication to God." The lack of proper , adaptation to modern needs has been with justice analyzed as a cur-rent grieoance against religious.life and one cause of its depreciation today. In his allocution to. members of, the First Congress for Reli- 204 " gio~us. (1950),-Pope Pius XII has 'emphasized.repeatedly the vital ,.relation betw~en.religioi~s life and higher learning. As Father Letter has concisely summarized it, the Holy Father points to. per-sonal sanctity as the essential object of religibus vocation, but at the same time underlines the obligation which binds religious in regard to the means of sanctification the avocations of religious life. "In these avocations religious rna~/and muststrive to be as up~to-date a's any of their contemporaries. That way, we may add. the~ will help. to remove a pretext for d~p, reciatinreg h g "l o" u~s' life.". (.REVIEW FOR RELm~OUS, Jan., 1952.) A'sense of precaution alone, might well lead to the same'cohclu-sion. Religious educators concerns&with th~ complex problem of training-new meinbers have been. raising stron.g"voices .against the dangers with which inadequat~ preparation for work ~hreatens reli-gious vocation. We cannot pass over,lightly ~he wa~ning of Sister Madeleva, C.S.C.: "No.group can deteriorate more quickly or, more terribly ~han young girls~of the type that enter our novitiates today without proper and adequate intellectual, cultural'and spiritual chal-lenges;' (NCEA Bulletin. 1950 .255)'. ¯ Granting. then. the vital need of-higher ~d~cation in the active religious life. it is at once-apparent that the adjustment of conflicts , arising from this need rests .primarily with religious superiors and community directors. Such problems may arise in regard to safe-guarding ~egular community life and observance.of rule under aca-demic schedules; the selection of religious for higher~trMning, and most pertinently, in providing adeq~iate religious formation and con-tinued guidance~in: the integration of educational e.xperience. in the' past twenty years religious communities have evidenced a gro.wing awareness of such problems. Some of the solutions sug-gested and attempted have proved highly significant. There has been self-examination and frank admission o~ the stagnation in eduCa-tional woik, which results from community inbreeding. Complete reorganization of educational programs in many communities is demonstrating concretely tl~at adequate syn,thesis, of religious voca-, tion and avocation is possible. Such programs have been tested. analyzed, and evaluated at meetings of the National Catholic Edu-cational Association in recent years. Where attention is seribusly .focused on such synthesis, religious superiors find greatest opportun-iiy to bring ripened experience and intelligent zeal to the aid of the individual religious caught in men~al tensions. Neveriheless, the fact 205 ~ISTER M. BON,~VENTURE Reuiew /:or Religiou}~, remains th~;t it is on the plane of personal, interior integrati'on that the decisive conflicts of religious life are resolved.-No religious, whether in the" active.or in the contemplative life, can escape the basic problem of knowledge: bow to transmute knowledge into wisdom. To keep the balance! T, bat is the goal which spells personal sanctification. On the other hand, it is precisely¯ thee lack of balance that vitiates the relation between higher learning and. religious iife, building up the pressures and conflicts that draw condemnation. And since, for the active religious, contihued growth in knowledge and culture, is progress toward perfection in her state of life,. ~he problem' of proper balance is a perennial one, It faces the matur~ as well as the young religious. There is consensus in the observation that where ~ducational ex-periences are hot properly integrated ~by religious the resulting pres-sures may produce'three types of personality reaction: 1. Worldliness: Loss of spiritual¯ perspective. A shifting of ifocus from God to human activity. The ¯religious is nolonger'a Catholic educator but a mere devotee of science or of art. 2. Scrupulosity: A false dichotomy which constantly demands ¯ choice b~tween prayer and study as two independent activities. The religious finds her spiritual life increasingly cramped and is~ no longer ¯ able to find sahctifying unity in the labor of the laboratory or library and spiritual exercises. 3. Discontent: Unanalyzed pressures, which¯ are not always, the "divine restlessness" of St. Augustine, but which '.drive the religious to seek escape measures .in change of occupation or vocation. The adjustment necessary to prevent such reaction or to resolve" the conflict when it does .occur demands self-knowledge. And though it may seem anomalous, the need of s~If-knowledge may grow~ apace with.higher learning. For the religious with university¯ degrees may still be .the dangerous man of "one book," if the ~legrees. represent a knowl.edge of books alone. A clear knowledge of the im-mediategoal can be a dangerous pressure when not integrated with an equally clear grasp 0f the proper means for reaching the goal. And since we cannot discount ¯human inertia with its tendency to stop at ge, neral principles, instead of making concrete applications, there is reason to review some of the factors essential to adjustment 6r read-justment in religious life. Because the heart of the higher-education problem is conflict, the 'solution ~rests on a¯choice of method and of means. 206. July, 1952 HIGHER EDUCATION Method Conflict grows from disorder. Butorder is the recoghition of ~i definite hierarchy of succession among the parts of a rational entity,. It is established and maintained first, by a proper evaluation of each" part in t~rms of the. whole: then by a complete; integration of these parts-into an organic whole in which'each individual activity is sub-ordinated to the good of the whole organism. Neither the pursuit nor the. results of learning can be allowed a position of dominance. A mastery of s~abject matter must remain always a mastery, a iecoilected control which rules out avidity and passionate intens.ity and the vain, curious study that makes of learning the curiosiiates philosophantiun) denounced by St. Bonaventure. For.the Seraphic Doctor had learned from his master, St. Francis, that all science leads the mind from the consideration of' the creature to the contemplation of the Creator only when it is rightly pursued. Given their proper subsidiary evaluation, the learning activities ---courses and lectures, problems and examlnations--must be con-tinuously integrated into the brganic whole of the interior life. This can be accomplished only through the medium of love, the "unction" of St. Bonaventure. Interior inspiration, the fruit of daily medita-tion and mortification, must inform tile activities of the lecture hall and laboratory. If the arts';ind sciences, as we are told, are "'forever waiting the spiritualizing influence 6f revealed religion," surely the religious cannot forego this apostolate. Nor is it necessary to follow an~ complex formula in order to integrate, empirical knowledge, in-tellectual principles, religious intuition, and emotional response into a meaningful and orderly whole. The means are the staples of reli-gious life: faith, obedience, humility, and love. MeaDs Faith is the basis of integration. Of the religious, who makes learning a ladder of sanctity it may be said in the literal sense, "Thy faith hath made thee whole." We know the threefold object of faith: 1) to enlighten the mind with regard to God; 2) to show us the proper relation of creatures to God; 3) to'direct our'activity towards God. The.religious who ~'xercises dail3; the habit of faith hold~ the unfailing sblvent for every interior conflict. To the eye of faith every person, every situation, every idea is a transparency through which shines the Divine Countenance. Wi~h a living faith it is possible to hear the voice of the Eternal Lawgiver above every 207~ ~ISTER M. BONAVENTURE " Review for ~eligious lecture on history, economics, or politi~s and to read glimpses,of His beauty written large "6r small across the pages of ancient liteiature and modern letters. TO liveby ~faith is to see, ~albeit darkly~ not a threat but a divine wisdom and p!an behind academic sthedules,,and challenging assignments. It is. above all, to have an unfailing source of confidence and courage to face¯ any God-given task in the" knbwl-edge that'the power of heaven is ours. For in .the words of. our Holy Father "we are rich in supernatural assistance through the grace poured out in the floodtides of the' Sacraments and prayer.'.¯ Wh~t room is left for confliCt,in the mind of th~ religious who learns to find under the mate'rial "species" of 1.earn!ng experiences the sacra-mental "substance" of a spirit.ual reality which is a part of her com-plete consecration? No more time, no argu'ment is n.eede~ for the finding. -- Active faith provides the religious with a second 'effective means of integration, a means which is at the same time a gtiarantee against doubt and.mental c6nflict. This gi~aranteeis obedience,-the hinge of religious life,',formulated by the vow.of ~onsdcration and in its full implication t6uching every act of the human will. If the entrance of a religious into the field of higher e~ducation is dictated by vocational need, according to the judgment of superiors, rather than by a desire .for personal achievement, obedience provides firm ground on which every situation can be met with the peace which is the fruit of faith. But to prove the perfe, ct safeguard against con2 flict obedience mus~ rise above passive resignation. It must be the active, personal element ol~ our friendship with God, the beneoolentia of St. Thomas'i by which we will what comes to. us by God's order .because it is the expression ~f His love for us. Through faith, obedi-. ence reveals as the core of each new l~arning experience the recogni-ti6n of a .Divine Provideiice. ¯ The abiding habit of such active obedience, is the foundation of the perfect peace ,recognized by,Dhnte, the peace of a mind relaxed not on the defensive-=therefore, a permeable mind that. absorbs and retains ~ith ~least. effort. TOO frequently well-meanifig,but confused religious, who fear to launch out into the depths of faith and trust, block by feverish activity and fearful tension the very channels' through which God is expected toanswer their pleas for aid, t~eir imagination, memory, understanding'. The r~li~ious who desires in obedience "to be to God what a hand is to a man" will be cdntent to do what G6d indicates as reasonable in any situation, as best-she can, HIGHER I~DUCATION° then without qualm or conflict leave the results to Him, even when. these results affect entire communities. Faith does not' lessen daiiy, responsibilities nor dilute .them with nonchalant optimism. But it does enable the religious scholar to bear the burden lightly, with the detachment and'joy that are the marks of ~ will surrendered tO God. " Perhaps the most subtl~ and least, recognized source of tension f6r the religious .studen~ is personal susceptibility and its tenuous roots of pride. The ignorance of a child reaches out.foi knowledg~ with a'joyous freedom and pliancy. The adult mind can grasp truth safely and without pain qnly by the grace of,humility. ForAearning is~always a' "receiving," ari acknowledgement of need. The mind that is undonsciously'on the defensive against such acknowledgement to superiors.in~tructors, fellow ~tudents, even. to itself is under a psychological pressure that brakes every :lear~aing process. Not only does such pressure pre~clude an open-mind but, more seriously, it is incompatible with recollection and inspiration. " The religious who ~onsi~tently strives for complete ~ integration of all" her activities in the field of higher learning by seeing every ex-. perience with the eyes of faith, recognizing p.eacefully its seal of providential design and accepting it with a humble and open-heart, will find within herself what is at once the fruit and lthe only valid-test of such integration. That fruit is know, ledge transformed into wisdom by the alchemy of love--wisdom which makes love come .full circle iia contemplation. This is the wisdom which, whefi~ com-municated, iadiates, transforming love and is the truth.which makes. men free. " But unless recollection and devotion draw knowledge within .the circumference i3f a personality whos~ center is God, its widest reaches W,ill mdrely parch the soul, leaving 6nly a" hard glittering surface. What is worse, this arid desert of surface knowledge is the soil which ~ fraelasdei lcyo ;npsrcoidenuccee,s sac rhuopslte os,f rfaatlisoen daliiczhaotitoonmsi.e Os'na nthde m oethnetar lh caonndf,l tihctes-: religious who remember'with Maritan,. that "just as. everything which is in the Word is found-once more in tt'ie Sp!rit, .so must 'all that We know pass into our power of affection " by love,", will find .th.a.t. every facet of ~aature on which man may concentrate can be made to yield fuel for the inner life,of re!igious perfection. Only the flafiae thus fed-can dispel the darkness of the cold materialism which sur: rounds "us. Need we hesitate to conclude that prop(r evaluation of educa- 209 NATIONAl; C(~NGRESS Review t~or Religious tional goals and adequate spiritual integration of learning experiences cannot fail to eliminate th~ conflicts and tensions frequently.associ-ated with higher education for religious? Will it not de~pen appre-ciation ~ religious life and underline the tragedy of the loss of voca-tion? Religious thus educated do not merely know more ~hings, but thdy understand the vivifying unity underneath all things and in this understanding taste the peace and joy of "real religion." Such religious respond fully ~o the exhortation of the'Holy Father, which cannot be repeated too freque.ntly: "Be what you are. Let your'live~s bear witness to the reality of rtehheg "lo "u's state, Then' men,within and without the Church, will understand and esteem the state of ~erfection." Nal:ional Congress [EDITOR'S NOTE: Fa~'her Francis J. Connell. C.SS.I~., the executive chairman of the National Congress of Religious Men, kindly sent us the following communica-tion about the Congress to be held at Notre Dame University in August.] The First National Congress of Religious will be held at Notre Dame, Indiana, from August 9th to August 13th this year. Both religious men and women will be present, but 'will hold se)arate meeting~, except for a few meetings in common. It ik hoped that all orders and congregations now having a foundation in the' United States will be ~epresented. Housing facilities for about 1800 will'be available on the campus at Notre Dame University. It has been agreed by those in Charge of the Congress that 800 religious men and 1000 religious women will be invited. , O~ Saturday evening, August 9th, an address will be made.to the assembled religious by the Most Rev. John F. O'Hara, C.S.C., Arch-' bishop of Phila°delpbia. Solemn Benediction of the Mos~ Blessed Sacrament will theft be given, with Father Arcadio Larraona, cele-brant; Father Elio Gambari, S.M.M., deacon; Father Joseph Giam-pietro, S,.J., subdeacon. These of~cials.have been deputed by the Sacred Congregation of Religious to be present at ~he.Congress as re-presentatives .of the said. Congregation. On Sunday morhing the~e will be a Solemn Pontifical Mass after which His Excellency, A. G. 210 dul~l, 1952 ~ QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Cicognani, Archbishop of Laodicea and "Apostolic Delegate t£ the United States, will ~ddress tbe oentire Congress. Undoubtedly .the main purpose of this Congress is to discuss p~obl.ems of. religious life' especially.pertaining to the present-day con-ditions in America. The Holy See isvitally interested in this sub-ject, and beyond doubt, many of the ideas which will be broached at this Congress will be brgugbt to the attention of the Roman au-thorities. The religious in Americi believe that it is possi,ble to main-tain a high standard ofreligious life in the United State~ i:lespite the materialistic and pleasure-loving tendencies of our country. With a view to attaining this objective, papers will be. read by representatives of the Congress on special subjects, e.g.,' stinlulation of vocations to the religious life in the United States; the obligation of superiors to fulfill their duties with p~oper regard for the innate love of indepen-dence of }:he American .people--in itself an admirable trait of charac-ter, and capable of being perfectly conformed to the higher.ideals of religious obedi(nce. Al~o, particular consideration will be given to the contemplative life, the sect~lar institutes, American religious of the Oriental Rites, and similar topics. The.dlosing ceremony" will be a Candlelight Procession to the Grotto of Our Lady at Notre Dame. It is very "evident that only a comparatively small proportion of "r~ligious in our dountry will be able to attend this gathering, but it is firmly boiled by'those in charge of the Congress that all will pray fervently that'God may bless this meeting with abundant fruits, and that Our Blessed Lady, on whose University grounds this first National Congress is being held, will obtain many graces for the par-ticipants and for all those whom they represent. ¯ .Questions and Akiswers 19 Please explain the prescriptions of the Church regarding the chap,fer of faults.in a religious community. " ' . : The chapter° of faults has beenpracticed 'for centuries in som~ form by'the older orders in the Church. As regards modern congre-gatipns, the Sacred Congregation of Bishops and Regulars had the following prescriptions in the Norrnae of 1901: . . 211 -- QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religious 1), It is'not necessary, that a congregation, prescri,be the chapter of faults in its constitutions. This does not.meah, howe~rer, thatthe religious is fre~ not t6 attend, if the constitutio'~as'.do prescribe the chapter of faults. (Art. 167.) 2). If it is prescribed, it should not be held oftener than 6nce a wed(. nor less frequently than once a m6nth. (Art. 167.) 3) . The accusation of faults~ which a religious makes to his supe-rior in the .chapter ro6m should be limited to faults and violations Of the constitutions that are external. 4) After-each accusation the superior imposes a penhnce. Obvi- . ously there Should be some pr, oportion~between the fault and the penance, and prudence and discretion should temper the penance ac-cording to persons, and circumstances. (Art. 169.) This exercise of fiumility and penance can be the occasion for the practice of virtue and for stimulating religious to overcome external f~iults to which they are prone. It al~o affords the.opportunity of" repairing th~ scandal (disedifi~ation) given to fell6w r~ligious by the faults. "" In some institute~' custom permits the members of the comr~un-ity to accuse one another of faults that they"have observed. If this practice is not already p.rovided for in the constitutions or book of customs, it should not be introduced without permission. Finally~. the superior may take the occasion of the chapter of faults to admon-ish the.community regarding external faults that aremore-or less common. This method of pate.rnal correction is especia.lly efficacious at the time of the devotional renewal o-f vows. -~-20--- At our novltlatewe have professed, novices, and postulant 'Brothers. who assist at Mass; which is served by novices. And on ~erta;n feast days the Sisters participate. Please cj;ve the cc;rrect order. ;n which Holy Com-munion should be distributed. - The Roman Ritual (tit. IV cap. ~I)- telis us that the priest:dis-tributing Holy Communion should begin with the Mass servers, if the~i Wish to cc;mmunicht~. A decree.bf the Sacred Congregation-of Rites (N. 107~, 3uly 13, 1658) sta'ted that the Mass server was to receivd Holy Communion before the nuns and other persons present. A later decre~ (N. 4271, lj permitted a lab, man serving~Mass,. ,~'though he do not wear the clerical garb, to receive Holy Communion. within the sanctuary, at the plat~orin of the altar. As there was a" '2"12 ¯ " . ' . ~ul~, 195Z .QUE~TION~ AND ANSWERS difference of opinion" in the interpretation-of these prescript{ons, the. Sacred Congregation of Rites gave the following detailed' regulations in a decree dated January 30, 19F5 (AA$, VII 1915, 71-72) : "The term Mass server or server at the altar includes any cleric or layman who serves l~/Iass at the altar.and he is to be preferred to others in the distribution of Holy Communion with the.following precautions: clerics are to be preferred to alayman serving Mass, and. clerics in major orders are to be preferred to cl~rics in~ minor orders , who are serving Mass." Keeping these various presc,~iptions {n mind,- w~ may now answer our question as follows: The Mass server, whether cleric or.layman, recei~res Holy COmo reunion before others ~who may be present, unless some are clerics; all clerics receive Holy Communionbefore a Mass server who is a lay-man: if the server is a cleric, he should receive first in his lank of clerics, precedenc~ being given to clerics 6f higher rank. Lay religious, Brothers and non-cleric~il religious, that is,.r~ligious not yet tonsure.d though destined for the priesthood, as well as Brothers and Sis: ,ters, all.receive Holy Communion after the Mass server, l~e he a cleric or a layman. " Finally,. an exception is made at a NuptialMass, at which the bride and groom may be given Holy Communion before, the. Mas~ server. As to the order of precedence in receiving Holy Communion at the Communion rail 6n the par,t of non-clerical religious, there are no regu'lations. Hence local customs may be observed if the consti~ tutions do not prescribe the precedence. It may be well. to recall here that a reserved instruction by the Sacred Congregation of Religious, December 8, 1938, said there should be no "rigid and quasi-military order" in coming to the Communion rail. Many commentators on ¯ this instruction suggested that the order prevailing in numerous reli-giou~ communities of receiving Communion.in a definite order should be changed. For the text of the instruction se~ Father Bouscaren's Canon'Law .Digest, II, 208 ft. ; ~nd for an article on the instruction, as well as a digest of the text, see REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, III (1944), 252-70. SHALLI START TO DRINK? . . Shall 1 Start to Drink?, by 3ohn C. F6rd~ S:d., p~esents a clear discussion of ¯ the moral and ascetical aspects of total abstinence. A pamphlet; published by The Queen's Work, 31 15 South Grand Boulevard, St. Lohis 18, Missouri. .213 I THE MORNING OFFERINGs. By Thomas ML Moore, S.~. °Pp~ t69. .Ap0stl~shlp.o~f Prayer, New York, '1950. $3.00. 40,000,000 members of. the Apostleship of Prlayer" scattered throughout the world, priests; ~ligious, men and women and chil-dren of every race and clime, recite "The Morning Offering".~laily. This formidable army of prayer is sending up unceasin~ petition to the Throne of God tbrdughout thehours of the day and night that "through the [mmaculate Hdart, of Mary" He may.acdebt their "prayers. works, joys and ~suff_erings of the day for all the int,entions of the Sacred 'Heart. in union with' the Holy. SaCrifice. of the Mass throughout th'e world, in reoaration for sin. for the intentions of all the Associates. and in particular, for all the intehtions"of the Holy Father." ¯ The last half of Father Moore's book .is a detailed expl~natio, n 6f the mo~ning offering. The chapters o'n the Immaculate Heart.of Mary the Comfiaunion of" Reparation.and the /kpostleship of* Suffering d~serve special mention. . o The first half.of the book contains a simple, untechnical expla-nation of the fundamental notions of theology, which underlie the Morning Offerifig': -cre'ati0n, end of man, tlSe love~ of God and of the Sacred Heart for men as.shown in the.redemption, man's free co-opei'atiori in~he work of God. the nature and .efficacy O,f prayer. union with ~hrist, especially in the Eucharistic Saerifice. The history a'nd*development of the Apostleship of"Prayer as well as. itS adapta-tion to-modern times, especially through the S~cred Hear( Radio Pr?grgm, bring the book to a close. - " This bpok is ~arnestly recommended to all religious for their own personal use in order to get-acquainted wi'th the Apostleship,of Prayer if they,are not. members as ye~.and to help' the~rfi spread.the °Ap0stl~ship far an~l wide among the faithful who come under their ¯ influence.' "It i] v/ell suited.: fo~ spiritual reading, either .privately or .in' common.--ADnM C." ELLIS[ S.J. WHAT IS THE iNDEX? By Redmond A. Burki~, C.S.V. Pp. x -k" 130. Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee, 1952. $2.75. . Thislohg needed book gives a brief but'solid expos.ition of the. origin, .nature, and extent of the laws of. the, Church re~arding censorship and~ p.~oh!bition of books. It is. directed not merely to theological students and the pra~.icin~ clergy, b~Jt primar!ly "to, the 214 . BOOK REVIEWS intellige~nt laity, whether Catholic or.no~-Catholic, and it attempts~ to discover th~ effects of e~clesiasti~al regulation~ with 'reference to, the entire world of literature. For this reason the termsare, as far as possible, nontecbnical.'~ After gi,ving the~ historical, background of the Church's .legisla-, tion in chapter.ond. [he author goes on to treat the foliowing sub-~ jects in subsequent chapters:, censorship of books in adyance of pub! lication:0condemfiation of ,publisl~ed books: general classes Of for5 bidden literature: methods of examining books by the Holy Office: I'ndex of forbidden, books: penalties for. violations of book regula-tions: permission to read forbidden books: and promotion of' - re~ding. Perhap.s the most valuable chapter in the book is that in which he treats general classes of forbidden lit~ratu're.' It is. in reality, commentary on canon 1399 of the'Code of Canon Law. Too many Catholics including some priests and religious, labor under the false impressio.~i that as long as a book,is not listed in the Index of For-. bidden Boobs it .may be read w. ith impunity. Most forbidden books are not listed in theIndex. ~Inste, ad. their are t~) be judged by. probi-bition-~ f different classes Of books as determined in canon. 1399. The author gives ~ brief, but satisfactory comm~n,t on each clas~ of books contained in this canon. Of special importance also is the chapter telling.how to bbtain permission to read forbidden books. This .will prove very.helpful for st~udents doing ~esea.rch work, as well as those in professional schools. - In an appendix the aUthor g~ves various listings of books ~n~the Index: 7We are deeply" indebted to him for l~a, ving given us'also Abbd Bethleem's valuable lists of selections of the work of F~ench authors which.may be :read,.in spite ot: the fact that the authors' works.are forbidden in ge'neral. A final app, endix on "The C;reat Book~ Program" completes the work. Af~er,.poi~ating out the,-valu'e of this praisewo'rthy project, the autho~ lis~s the booksbn the pro'gram which'may not be read with-out permission. This excellent book should, be~on thesheJv, es of every Catholic school !ibFfiry beginning with the high school, and on up to college and university lentil. Likewise, every religl6us community .engaged in teaching in secondary schools and co!leges should have a copy in the faculty library. Other religious engaged:in act.ire works will als0 find it useful. ADAM~C. ELLIs. S.O,. 215 BOOK R~VlEWS . . " ". Reoieto for Ret(gious " THE SEMINARIAN AT'HIS PRIE-DIEU. By'Robert.Nash; S.d. Pp. 312. The-Newman Press, We~fmlnster, Md., 1951. $3.50. This is a book of meditations for seminarians. Fr. Nash's thirty-eight meditations are aimed at hdping s~mingrians gr~ow into p, ray-erful priests who will be ready for the!r work in the p,resent world of social unrest, of threatening Communism, of secularism, and the rest. As in histwo previous companion works, The Nun at Her Prie-Dieu and The Priest at His Prie-Dieu, each meditation containsa prepara-tory prayer, the setting or cdmposition of place, the fruit desired, three or four points (each of which the author rightly suggests could serve for one or more meditations), a brief, summary of the points, and a tessera or catchword to be recalledduring the day. Particularly well done is the setting,, which can help a busy'stu-dent cast aside extraneous thoughts and.apply his mind more readily to .the subjec~ matter of the meditation. Though this book cannot remove all the thorns that beset the paths of mental przyer, s~mi-narians, t~erhaps more especially those fresh from the "world," will find in it plentiful material and a good method to follow in their meditation. It could also be u~ed profitably for spiritual reading. JOHN F. MOORE,. S.J. THE CARMELITE DIRECTORY OF THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. Translated from ~the'Lafln. Pp. xxlv -F~ 575. The Carmelite Press,'.Chlcag.o, II1., 1951. For Carmelites themselves, for their followers, and for students of their spirituality, this directory will be an invaluable and almost inexhaustible gold mine of doctrine. It is official, being introduced and commended by a letter, of the Prior General. It dales not bear the name of any writer or corn'piler, but seems, to be put forth l~y the ~armelite Order itself. It is recent/ the Latin o6ginal being dated 1940. Its purpose is t~ complement 'and implement the Rule ~nd Constitutions. ~ The work consists bf four major parts. Parts one ~ind two, en-titled, respectively,. "Dogmatic Fundamentals of the Spiritual Life" and "Principlesof Religious Life," are of a general and Catholic, ha-. ture and prepare for what is specifically Carmelite. This is presented in tile latter tWO.l~art,s.Of these the third is headed "A Holy Heart~" and deals mostly "i¢ith the conquest of bad habits, the acc~uisition of ¯ the virtues, and the pursuit of perfection. The last part is devoted to ."The Contemplative Life." Some people no doubt will note with surprise how little space is. given.to the m3~stical phase of the spiritual ~ life. (pages 525-551)'. . , 216 July, 1952 . BOOK I~OTICES It is interes'ting to observe, in view of Wl~at certain welJ-known authors on prayer, for instance, Saudreau an~t Arintero, hold, that where "the higher degrees of mental prayer wl~ich can be attained by ordinary grace" are treated, we find the statement that "there are two higherdegrees x~hich today are usually called affective pra~,er and the prayer of simplicity or filso acquired contemplation" (p. 425). Toward'the end of the section on the gifts of the Holy¯ Spirit it is affirmed that persons who cultivate them carefully "may :lawfully expect to_be led day by day to greater perfection and to work great things for the glory of God and*His kingdom" (p. 299). No promise is made of mystical favors. The 'Prior General has a sentence in his letter that is enlightening about the spirit of Carmel: "In this book.will be found fully explained those key principles of Carmel: to give our whole selves to God--to stfi.ve for purity of conscience--to foster intimate union with God" (p. xxiii). Lastly, the delicate problem of the historical connectibns of the Order witch "our Holy Father Elias" is handled devoutly but-Cautiously. ~-~AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD, S.J. BOOK NOTICES Som~ years ago Father Henry Davis, S.J., rendered an invaluable ser'vice~to the English-speaking clhrgy, as well as to theology-minded laity, by publishing a 4-volume work on moral and pastoral the-ology. Before his death at the age of eighty-five, in January of this year, he had increased his measure of service by preparing a 1-volume SUMMARY OF MORAL AND PASTORAL THEOLOGY. The book covers the whole of moral theolpgy: principles: precepts, and sadraments; and it includes much sound pastoral advice. It is a very useful book for priests, libraries, and those 9fthe laity who wofild like t6 become. acquaifited with a standard manual of moral .tl~eology. One' caution might be added for the laity. The treatise on the Sixth Command-ment, since it follows the pattern of the theological textbook, con-tains certain technicalities that might be more confusing than help-ful. The laity'who "irish to read on this subject for their personal benefit would do better to use a book written expressly for them. (New York: Sheed ~3 Ward, 1952. Pp. xxxvi -b 486. .$5.00.), A decidedly readable explanation of the doctrine of the Mys~fical, Bddy of Christ is THE LIVING CHRIST, by John L. Murphy. The t .217 BOOK NOTICES - Revi~ for Religious explana~tion is based o~n Pius XII'~ encyclical." M~/st, ic[ Co?~oris. The author avoids the use of technical terms as much as possil~le and plains those that must be used. The style i~ marked by clarity, simplicity, "ahd. a certain down-to-ear~hnes~ that contributes con-creteness without losing digni

Issue 11.6 of the Review for Religious, 1952. ; A.M.D.G. Review for Religious NOVEMBER15, 19 5 2 Xavier the Catechist ¯ Anthony Perelra Communion of Saints ¯ " c.A. Herbs÷ OnRace Rela~tions . Gerald Kelly Address~fo Superiors . Pope Plus ×ll ¯ I 0,000 Gold Francs Or Life . Adam C, Ellis A Monument to M. Vincent . Jerome Breunig Questions and Answers Xavier Centenary Book Reviews Communications index for 19S2 VOLUME XI NUMBER RI::::Vi W FOR Ri .LIGIOUS VOLU1VIE XI NOVEMBER, 1952 NUMBER 6 CONTENTS ¯ XAVIER CENTENARY-~The Editors . 281 XAVIER THE CATECHIST--~Anthony Pereira, S.J . 282 A NEW INDULGENCED ASPIRATION . 290 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 290 THE COMMUNION OF SAINTS--C. A. Herbst, S.J . 291 FOR THE SOCIAL APOSTOLATE . 295 BOOKS--FOR NOTHING . ° . 295 NOTES ON RACE RELATIONS--Gerald Kelly, S.J . 296 TEN-YEAR INDEX . 300 10,000 GOLD FRANCS OR LIRE--Adam C. Ellis, S.J . 301 ADDRESS TO RELIGIOUS SUPERIORS--Pope Plus XII . 305 TO TEACHING SISTERS (A Quotation) . 308 COMMUNICATIONS ON INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS . 308 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 28. Use of Income from Inheritance . '. . 309 29. Must Suggestions for General Chapter be Signed? . . 309 30. Mental Prayer during Second Mass . 310 31. Helping Younger Delegates at General Chapter . 310 32. When Do I Start Counting for my Golden Jubilee? . 311 33. Lay" Sisters and Class Distinction . 311 ¯ COMMUNICATION ON CONTEMPLATIVE LIFE . 312 SETS OF BACK NUMBERS . ' . . . 314 A MONUMENT TO MONSIEUR VINCENT--Jerome Breunig, S.J. 315 BOOK REVIEWS-- The Ignatian Way to God; Saint Therese and Suffering . 325 PROCEEDINGS OF CONGRESS OF RELIGIOUS . 327 BOOK NOTICES . 328 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 329 FAMILY COMMUNION CRUSADE . 332 ANNUAL INDEX FOR 1952 . 333 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, November, 1952. Vol. XI, No. 6. Published bi-monthly : January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marsy, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942 at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board i Jerome Breunig, S.J., Augustine G. Ellard, S.J., Adam C. Ellis, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J., Francis N. Korth, 8.J. Copyright, 1952, by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Before writincj to us, please consult notice on Inside back cover. Xavier Cent:enary DECEMBER 2 will be the four hundredth anniversary of the .death of St. Francis Xavier. Since he is not only our own brother inChrist, but also one of the two principal patrons of the Society.of the-Propagation of ~he Faith' and a saint d'dmired and loved throughout the world, it Seems eminently fitting that we pay~. him some tribute in these pages. Ver'y.specially we desire to re-echo' the follow]ng~eulogy of the saint by His Excellency Dora dose da Costa Nunes, Archbishop of Goa and Damaun. and Patriarch of the East Indies, in his Pastoral Letter of February' 15, 1952: "Among so many missionaries, martyrs and saints Who have' .brought the Gospel to the East, none stands out as prominently as the Glorious Apostle. A beacon of.rare brilliance, he illumined with celestial br!ghtness these regions which were at the time involved in mystery and myth. Go where he might, he left in th~ souls of men a trail of light. No one crossed re.giqns so dFtensive in-order to sow ~he seed of the word of God. "Like th~ Doctor of the ~Gentiles, he stopped nowhere, nor did" ,'he establish himself permanently in any. place. His one aim was to prepare new s~ail and march, ahead, b1~zing'trails, raising new out-pqsts of~Christianity and firmly pla~ting the .Church, leaving ~to his co-workers the labour Of watering and he)ping to bear fruit the seed-he had cast in'the soulsof native peoples . ¯ "And yet it was not these qdalities [his missionary exploits] that conquered for him the glory that surrbunds his name. It was t'he rightful fame of his sanctity . Even before the Church .had canon-ized him, he was already canonized, in a manner of speaking, by the. King of Travaniore, who ordered a statue of him to be placed in a Hindu temple." . The Archbishop's words are quoted from The Clergy/"Monthl~! (published by the destiit Fathers, St. Mary's 'College, Kurseong, D.~.Ry., Indi/) for dune, 1952. Their entire number of The Gler~?~t Monthl~ is devotgd to St. Francis.X~vier. With the peimi,s-sion of tl~e editor, we are reprinting one of ~hearticles, "Xavier the, Catechist, by A. Pereira.,,S.d., in the present.number of 'REV.~EW FOR RELIGIOUS. In a subsequent number we shalloreprint an article "6n Xavier the missionary. THE EDITORS.:,. 281 Xavier !:he Ca!:echist: - A. Pereira, S.). -, FATHER B,ROU, S.J.~ in his life of Xavier, calls the Apostle of ¯ the East 'anincomparable catechist." His life and the" few w'riting~ he has left us prove beyond doubt th, at the title is in no way unmerited. We shall study the saint's"idea of ~atechizing, his catechisms, and his method of catechizing. A CATECHETICAL "MENTALITY" "The more universal a good workis, the more.divine." For this reason Ignatius and the Society from the very beginning considered catechizing as more important and necessary than .other ministries. In May, 1537, Ignatius and his companions resolved "that children should be tatighi Christian doctrine for the.space of an hour" a day. They confir,rned this resolution On the 11 tb of June of the same year: "It has been.~.decided,.by all, except Bobadilla, that the article about teaching children for a period of forty days and for an hour, as indi-cated above, should be made the object of a formal vow and oblige under mortal sin." The Formula of the Institute stresses the fol-lowing: "Let them'consider as especially entrusted to them the edu-cation of the children and the ig.norant in the Christian do~trine." Xavier h'ad imbibed the spirit of Ignatius and particularly hi~ esteem for. catechizing, for he wrote to the Flemish Father B, arzaeus: "That way of helping the people is better-which is the more uni-versal, for example preaching, catechizing, confessing." H~nce he did not want th~ Father-in-charge to shove the duty ofoteaching. catechism on others: "You yourself will take charge of teach"ing the prayers to lhe children of the Portuguese, to the slaves, men and women, and to the native Christians. Do not entrustthis,offic.e to others because the persons who see you doing this are much edified and morepeople, come tO listen and learn the Christian doctrine." The h0ur~0f santa doutrina was.sacred to him. How often do we read in his letters remarks'like this: "In the morning¯~ was teaching men, in the evening ~omen, in the afterndqn after dinner the chil-dren." Xavier, then, was not, as some have .styled him, "a mere meieor" flashing througfi the Fky aimlessly. He had a clear aiml Catechizing, ,he knew, was fundamental, so he consecrated the'best of his time and energy to this humbleand absorbing work: "This 282 XAVIER THE CATECHIST fruitful work on behalf of ~he children is'the important on~." Xavier's esteem for catechizing learnt from Ignatius was further enhaiaced by the circumstances of his mission. Pope Paul III, by his Pontifical Brief of 1540, sent Xavier as his legate to visit the islands of the Red Sea, of the Persian Gulf, of the Ocean (Indian Ocean?), also the provinces and places of India on either side of the Gange.s and the Cape of Good Hope. The Pope entrusted to him the mis-sioh' "to ~trengthen the Christians in their faith and to bri,ng tho~e .who did hot know i{, to know, practic_e, and keep.the.same faith." It Was the custom of the time to :administer baptism to pe0pleowhb knelt only the ess0ntials,-which were'forgotten after baptism for lack of continued and vigilant instruct, ion. The King of.Portugal insisted on nlaking Christians ("fazer muitos crist~os, fazer muita cristan-dade'.'), leavi~ag'to others the care of.instructing them. The first missionaries planted but "no watering was done." Ordinarily they stayed with the Portuguese colonists; hence "the Christians, as there is nobody to teach, them, do not know 'more than to say that.they. are Christians." But it was not safe for the priest to live in places. -where he could not get help from .the Portt~guese. In the Moro Island, for instance, Father Fern~o Vinager converted many.to'the faith but he was killed and the island was deprived of the only priest it had. , We should not forget that tl~e first Portuguese missionaries were laymen. Captains of flotillas, merchants, soldiers plaiited the cross and baptized in {he absence of priests, They had come to the East for "pepp0r and souls," but often more for pepper tharf souls. There are some exceptions, however. In 1'537 one of them, Antonio Galv~o, baptized many of the Moluccans, at their own request, and built a ~eminary. When Galv~o was relieved of.his.office, the semi-nary disappeared with him. The knowledge'of the Christian faith imparted by the soldiers, and merchants could not go very far. Much catechizing remained to be done, as Xavier keenly realized. HIS CATECHETICAL WRITINGS Many writers have tried to magnify Xavier by attributing to 'him the gift of tongues. No need for this. His personality stands out much greater if we se~ him as he was--a man of hard work. From his own letter~ we know how much labour it cost him to learn the languages and to compose his catechisms. "May it please God to give us speech!" We are amongst them like statues; they speak and chat about us and we, not understanding the language, remain quiet; 283 Review [o? Religio~s at'present we must be like children and qearn the language." _ ~ His'aim in @riting his .vhrious catechisms was to be useful to h~mself and to his fellow-missionaries, and to spread the faith in every'pos.~ible w.ay. His predecessors in the missiofi field did not try to learn the languages of~ the people. For Xavier this could not last. He learnt the essentials of our faith in their language and wrote them down.to help his memory. He wished to share with his brel~hren this 'st~cessfial method of catechizing. Whenever"h~ found ~that people could read, as in Japan, he distributed copies of his w~itings:. "This winter we shall busy ourselves with writing for the press a rather detailed exposition of the oarticles of the faith in Japa'nese. All the leading people know how .to read and write. As we cannot help all. in person, our faith may be spr.ead everywhere through printed catechisms . . ." At times he had. th(' prayers posted in the church .that all who.could read should' learn for themselves. His catechetical' writings are the, following: 1, Xavier's Catechisms. Xa~vier brought with him to India the 'Short Catechism' of John de BarroL This formed, the foundation of his catechetical teaching. His own Portuguese catechism, Doutrina., Christ8 (which was.printed in 1557 at the press of St. Paul's Col-lege; Goa), follows rather faithfully the text of de Barros, with a" few additional prayers composed by Xavier--he wanted the cate-chism" lesson to.be a prayer. During~ his four months'-stay in Tuticorin, with great labour and' the help 6f interpreters, he translated the most esser~tial parts (the Creed,-commandments, prayers, Confiteor.) int'o Tamil, for the use of the Paravas who were in such great need of instruction. It was not a masterpiece of literature as-Xavier hin~self recognized. ~He wrot'e to Father Mansilhas, his first companion among the Paravad, to point out. some corre'ctions. Father. Henrique Henriques, the at/thor of a Tamil grammar, found in it mistakes (atguns errog) and inaccuracies (mer~tiras) which he attributed to the carelessness of the interpreters: , While he stayed in Malacca, ir~ 1545~, he put intothe Malayan l~inguage "the Creed, with an exposition of the articles of the faith, the general confessidn, Pater noster, Ave Maria and the co'mmand-merits." It cost him much work, f6r "it is a .painful t~ing not to know the language." ¯ As soon as Xavier came to know Anjiro, the Japanese baptized in Goa as Paulo de Sarita F~, he made up his mind to translate the 284 XAVIER THE CATECHIST catechism~di~to d~panese. He, put his resolution into. effect with tl~e help ,of Paul, vchen h~ reached Kagoshima, the native place of Paul. He gave too much,credit to his helper. Hd could say of him, :' ,Anjiro knows hohz to write ~lapanese very well." But, as Father Valignano wrote late, r, "Paul was not a learned~man and though he tried his Best to translatel our ~doctrine into 3apanese, his work was very defec-tivel so~ much so that it was a cause of scoffing and ~idicule for the ,lapanese. !~ It neither expressed the truth which the Father was preaching.:nor was it .written in a way that their learned men could - read without l~ughter.'~ Paul was not a philosopher and Xavier was not a.linguist. In the~ circumstances more could not. be achieved;' Xavier bad to leave perfection to his successors. 2. Declaracao da Fd (Explanation of the faith). This is a.de-tailed explahation of the Creed. The catechism has laid the founda-tions. The Christians were prepared for" more substantial food. ¯ Xavier starts his explanation from the dreation of the world, and then ex!boses the history of the coming of Christ. He wrote this work whilein Ternate in 1546; in 1548 he asked the Tamilian secular priest Gaspar Coelho to translate it into Tamil. Later, with' the help 9f Anjiro, he put it 'into dapanese--another work of Paul's that was not a piecd of art. The Portugues~ text was printed in Goa, ¯ in 1557, together with Xavier's Portuguese catechism. .3. Ordem e regimento (Christian rule of life) is a manual o~ devotidns, the necessary complement of the catechism. Ithas morning and evening prayers taken from his ~atechism, the examen of conscience and various, other, prayers. There is a meditation on sin, mortal and venial, and even a method of hearing Mass for children. 0 - 4. Instruction/:or Catechists. To the Fathers working in India Xavier proposes a method of catechizing, the fruit.of his own experi-ence. From these pages we get a vivid picture of Xavier's own cate-chism classes. Descriptions of hi~ method are also found in a number of his letters. HIS METHOD ¯ Xavier;s ~catechetical method can bd reduced to four points: natural meansl supernatural means, use of lay-helpers, and .the prin-ciple of adaptation. Natural Means "There is nothing in the mind that was not first in the senses,'" philosophy teaches us. The p,edagog~ of the senses plays a great part. 285 , in Xavier s method. ' Ret:iew'~or Reli'gious~ ¯ - His' classes: began With. a processibnfand con.~intied.as,a li~;ing, difilogu.e. ~ procession! 'rich' and. poor, chil- .d~n"dnd grown-ups, went in p~oces~ion' to th*e church. In" Goa', fiS Xavier~himsel'f writes, morethhn 300 childr~nt00k par~. On Sign-days the' church overflowed With people. The Para~vfis did not g0~ fishing on Sundays; in th~ n~orning they came t6 Mass~ and in the evening "there was a great reunion of all-the inhabitan~ "of,.the .~,il"-i lage, men and Women, "young and*' old, to recite .th'e prayers in thei~ langBag~. They ~how great p!~asure a'nd come With.al~icrity.'; .His class w'~s a living 'dialogue. The catechist did. not do 'all'the ialking~ Everybody was awake 'to what was h~ppening: "My brethre,n," he asked," "do you believe that "this our God,is the. only . true God?" They all replied: "Web~lieve.'". His teiiching was a lesson thatentered the soul by various sonses~ .The eyes'were cau.gbt by the ,ver~ fervor and, enthusiasm of the Santo Padre, th~ ears by the holy ~s'ong~, the.unariimou~resp6nse~ andthe clear repetition¯ of the formulae. India'ns for centuries were singing their Puranas. Xavier disc0ve.red ihat singin'g was"the thi~ng for the people of.the- East. In Goa, the custom introduced by Xavier was to be followed byhis'successors. In~ 1578 Father Francis Pasio ,wrote that he ha~l witnessed childreri singing the Christian doctrine" "in a bright and devout melody.'[ They sang it both in Portuguese and- Konkani. F~ther Barzaeus, who followed Xavier's method, closely, ¯wrote the following: "Children go about the street singing the Christian doc-trine: even the Moors go through ~he streets, singing the doctrine heard from ihe boys: in the name'of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost." Xavier himself gives testimony to what hap-pened in T~ernate: "It is.a reason to give thanks to Our Lord for the fruits which God obtained by imprintii~g in the hearts of His. crea-tures: canticles of His praise and honor, in a people recently converted¯ to His faith. It is customary'in Maluco, to Hear the boys in-the squares, the women and the girls day'and night in their houses, the workmen in the fields, the fishermen on the sea,. singing not~friv- Olous songs, but holy canticles as the Credo, Pater Noster, Ave Maria, ¯ the commandments, works'of mercy, and, the general confesSion.and . many other prayers." Xavier's class was a kind of drama where everybody~had to play his part.~ 'Raising the bandsor, extending' them, placing /hem on the breast-whilst s'aying "I believe," looking up to heaven . "these simple gestures k.ept the people active and intere,sted in. the class.~ ¯ ,- . 286 gi?acei''~ Fiai~15 i~ a gift of God~ih~r~fore it' is "tO' be bbt~ined b~ " prayer. CateChism~ class for Xavier ~vas,; d~i!(f0~,afi'~ exerciSe~:{~f prayer.~ Fie b~gan i~ with pr~yer, mingled it .w!thPr~er, and 'e~' .it With 'p~ayer.~ BefOre explaining a'comm~fidhaent, Xavier and :,audience a~ked Our:.Ladyfor.th~. grace, of unders(ahding. A~ the e6d . of hi~ explanation' 'thcy'~k.ed pard0n~' for pa~t faults 'agai~ist ti~ cbmmand,m~ent expl~'ifl'ed~' The cla~s "erid¢'d witfiI' prayer: "Let ia's sa~r ~even Paters an, d sev.en Ayes in honour of th~ Holy° Ghost that may help us, :to believe"fi~mly'wha~the holy¯ Catholic~ f~aith teaches fis." Somebody may object dsat" ~0rnmon :pr~yers."e~isily be.come mere ga.bbling. Xavier fg.restalled "the d~hger by alterh~iting' coin-moil and private., praye.r. "~The Paie~ and Ave'shduld be recited by everybody silently;)" He wanted to accustoin ::tl~em to personal, ,p, rayer. ¯ ¯ ¯ " ~. ¯ Lay-apostles . Xavier had expected hel~ from Et~rop~. ~et he realized their, even so, Parava laymen were indispen.sable.for the conversion and training of the .Paravas. He. thus. forestalled.6Ur pre~ent-da)i lay-apostolate in'.his Organization of the catechists." .In ,the v!llages he ~ Visite,d, l~e"left a copy of his Tamil catechi'sm' and-~ommisSioned a Christian,¯ the kanakapi'llei,, 'to instruct the people, The kan~akapiliei was~.0rdinarily.the-headmari of the village. :.:Xa~,ier wanted to ap, proach the :masses through th~ 'leaders., .~ ' ~ ,' . '" The kanakapillbi¯ (cat~chist~s) producedwonderful fruits. The~ represented the Father "in.his absence, report, ed_ abuses, inquired about impediments .for marriage, proclaimed the banns. "Father Francis in-stituted the .order of kanakapillei whith exists o°h this coast and" i~ has contributed so ~m'uch to the g'lory, of God and:the good of souls: He taught them the form or the rite of baptisin, hi enjoined on them to baptize~n case of necessity, to provide for urgen~ 'needs. Even today, they take care of the" Church, they are l~ke sacristans; they baptize without ~eremonieS, when it.is iargent; .they teach Christian doctririe ~twice a day, to the boys in the. morning and to the gi~lsfin~ the eve= ning, in Latin and in the language of (he 'counf~y"-; thus wrote Teixeira, one df the first historians df .Xavier: Of c0urs.e, the Para-v ¯as did not¯ under.sta~id.Latinbu, t' w l S" a"t ',. X" awer wished wasto accu's-tom them little,by little to tak~ean active'part in thelff~rgy.' The , 2:87 A.- PEREIRA. ~ " . Rt-~ie~ for Religi'ods organization of the kanakal~illei produced wonderful fruit even cdn-turies later. Father;Pi.er, re Martin wrote in 1700:~ "On,e of the things ~at. con~t.ri.bute ,too.st. t.o .make this Christianity so remarkable among others is the.diligence with which the small,est children areo,taught Chrfftian doctrine. This ho'l~y~ustpm has been kept inviolably the times of St. FranCis Xavier. He. was ,convince'd that the faitfi .would strik~ ~oots in the heaits Of' the inhabitants, if from a tender age. ~. h e y . were well" "i n"structed. " The k~n,akapille~! s.aved the faith among the P.aiav~as during the.time of the. pei'secution and in the ab-sence of pri.e.sts. ~. . . The support of the catechists v~as. one Of the great preoccupa-tions of Xavier. He.wrote to Father Mansilhas to obtain help from the giceioy.ThePa,ravas were.paying 400 gold pardaos "for the, slippers of the Queen of Portugal.r'. Xavier wrote to her to relin-. quish the "slipper money", for the benefit of the catechis.ts, remarking jocosely that the best slippers would be the children saved with that money. These would carry her to heaven. Another origin~al ~trait bf Xavier's method is.his h~bit of associ- - ating to his work Goan, Tamilian, .Travancorian, and Malsyan children. First of all:he believed in "the power of their interces-sion." He himself prayed to the children who died after he. had baptized them. He insisted with Father Mansilhas to make the chil-dren pray for .his intentions. Then he.made them share in his active apostolgte. He taugh~ them the prayers that. they, in their turn, might teachthem at home. "For a month I taught' them the prayers, enjoining on the boys to teach what'they-bad learnt in the school to their parents and to all the members of.the house and.neighbours." The children took to it with enthusiasm. They taught ,the prayers-in a pleasant way, for they "sang them," .They prgv~d their zeal in other ways. "They reprehend their parents,: when.they see tfiem practi~ing idol.arty . they come to inform me when such things are 'done . They burn the idols to. ashes." They. were bold enough to challenge the pagans: "they fight with the paga.ns"., and. Barzaeus wrote: "The.boys dis-cuss with the Moors and tell them that the~ cannot be saved, with-out baptism." . . , Xavier shared with the children even the power of. ~iracles. People called on him right and left. It.was.impossible for him to attend, to all: "So many., came to, cal_l me to their .houses to say some .prayers over.the, sick: ~.r .- and since it was not in_ my power~ to deny ¯288 November, 1952 XAV-IER THE CATECHIST such a holy'request. I halve settled the ma~tter in. a Way to.satisfy. all: I have brdered the boys who know .the p~ayers t6' go to the homes' 0f.'the sick and to gather all tl~e nhembers ~of the" hoi~se find tl~e neighbors: a~d to "say together the Credo ovdr and. over.again, telling the sick man to have faith, that he may be cured; and then ~he o~her' prayers. ThuS,,by'the. faith of the,members~of the house of the neighbors, and. o~ the si~k th~mselve,s, God Our" Lord g~anted many favours to the sick, rest6rin~ to them corporal andspiritual 'health. God has ihown great mercy to the ailing: He ~alied them tlJrough sickness, and as it were by forc~ He brought them to the faith." Adaptation 0 A last trait of Xavier's method, is his care to adapt himself to the people ofdifferent'temperam.ents and places. For Goa and t.h.e other Portuguese fo~ts he made himself a catechist a preacher, and a theo-logian. , For these places he requeste.d theolog!ans an.d.preachers." For the Paravas he made l~imself a goqd catechist:' .No need of much learning here: "The persons who hav'e no talent for preaching and confessions., would do much service in these parts'to the infi-dels if they had the corporal and spiritual force~, because there is no need of letters . let them be fit for many corporal works." Among the Japanese, Xavier became both'h ~atechist and 'a. savant. From the very beginning he spent time ahd ene'rgy to trans-late his more developed work, A Declaracao "da Fd, into.Japanese~=He wanted learned meii for Japa, n. ~ But Xavier pra~tlsed "adaptation" above all in his moral approach to the.pedple he had to deal with. T-he Indians easily over-look any imperfection in a priest except impatience. A priest, accord-ing to the Indian mentality, shouldbe a mirr6r of God's serenity. People came to'Xavier at odd hours ~ind children left him no'respite even f6r meals: yet. he never showed the slightest impatience: "When I reached the plac~ the children did not allow ine either to say mY office, or eat, or rest before I taught them some prayers," He wrote to Father Mansilhas: "Pray God to give you much patidnce ;to deal with this'pebple"; and in another letter: '.'L- ea~rn to bear their weak-nesses with patience, reflecting that if they are not good' now, they will be so some day." "I entreat you very much never, on an~r ac-count, to lose your temper with these troublesome people: and When ~ou have much.work and cannot satisfy alL .console yourself by. doing what you can. ~lways'bear with these, pe'6ple ~ith great 289" patience; but. if in:.som'e ¯case. kindness' doe~" not succeed., then~practlse that work'of mercy which"says,'tl-iou wilt chastise himwho'deserv~s to be chastised/" And to Fatl~er Barzaeus he wr0t~:."With this people of ,India',' much is.accomplished by exhortation,~ and nothing by force." ~ ¯ ' Xavier knew that mutUhl love .between the catechist and the pupils makes'his tea'c.hing m6re acceptable. He wrote'.to his c0m-panions bn the Fishery Coast: "Try. with all your might to make y6urself loved by'this people because if you are loved by them, you willpiod~ce much more fruit than if yoh are~ disliked by them. Again, I recommend you to take pains to make yourself loved by the people." It is worth noting ~he stress the saint lays ',not so much ¯ on' themis~sic~nary iovingth~ people but on the j~e6ple loving the" miss!ona,ry.~' People's love for the missionary will be an index of his lpve and devotiori to t~em. Love made up for . Xavier's d~fi-, ciencies, in the l~nguage, for example. It was one of the factors that made of him "ari incomparable catechist." A NEW INDULGENCED ASPIRATION By reason of special faculties granted to it by Our Holy Father, Pope Plus XII. ¯ the Sacred Penitentiary grants to all the faithful who have pidusly'recited th.e invo-cation, "Lord,° teach us to pray/,'" the following indulgences:' (1) a partial¯ indul' genre of three hundred~ ¯ days; (2) .a, plenar~ indulgence,¯ under the usual conditions, tb be gaine~l once a ~nth, if~this inyocation has been piously recited daily through-out ah entire month (April 30,. 195T, Acta Ap. 8edis,~1952, p. 389).' " Our readers will dovcell to'r~meml~er that Canon 928, § 2 states that "unles~ the contrary is expressly indicated, a partial indulgence may be gained a numbdr of times ada, y as, of~en-as the good work is repe~ted." Since the decree of the S:Peni-t. e, ntiary, contains no limiting clause, the partial indulgence of 30"0 days may be gained a.s~ often as the invoc.ation given above is repeated with a contrite, heart. ANTHONY., ~, PEREIRA. ," . ,was.,.°rdained. . a priest on November,, 11 of., the present, . year at.S't" Mary's theologate., Kurs.eong. India:~he is a':Goan.a.nd~ belongs to. the Mission of Goa. ~. A. HERBST is'bn the faculty of St. Mary's College. St. Marys, Kansas. AD~}C'i.~'~,"IS,"G~'I~.ALD KEL, L~.' a~i JEROME BREUNIG~'are members o~'the edi,," tbriai'.board of the"REV[E~" FO~. RELIGIOUS.~ ~ ~'; ~ ~" 290 The Commumon 0t: Sa'int s BELIEVE in the Holy Ghos~ the,.holy'Catholic Church. the Communion of Saints.'" Holy'Mo.ther .Church must think this doctrineof the Communion of Saints very important, and must want her children to bear it clearly in mind, and ~o'think.o.f i~ very ofte.n, since it appears so explicitly.in" the short profe~ion of faith we call the Apostles' Creed. The Church does because. Christ. ,. did., H~ came to found a kingdom to, which, all do Or can belong, the just find the unjust and the poor. and the unfortunate,.'~nd in which the little ones are the favorites. The. angels belong, too, and " r~joic'e when even,one sinful brother does penance. In the perfect prayer we pray as the members bf a family: our Father, give us, for-give us, l'ehd us not into temptation. " St.'Peter s~ys: "'You are a .chosen generation, a kingly priesthood, a ,holy nation, a purchase.d people . (you) are now the people bf God" ('I Peter 2:9-10). St.'Paul says: "You are all the children of God" (Gal. 3, 26). And St. 3ohn: "That which we have seen and heard, we declare unto you, that you also may have fellowship with us, and our fellowship may be with the Father, and with his Son desus. Christ" (I dohn I,. 3). ' "T'he Communion of saints is ~he spiritual solidarity ~vht~h binds together the faith.f, ul on earth, the souls in purgatory, and the saints in heaven.,.The participants, in that solidarity are called saints'by reason of their destination and of their partaking of the fruits of the redemption." (Catholic Encgclopedia, s.v.) The church triumphant in heaven, su~ering in purgatory, fighting on earth, constitute one church, .one society, 6he- family. The chfirch triumphant, suffering, fighting are as three orders'of the same society, three battle-lines of the same army, three branches of the same vine, three limbs of the same mighty ~ree. Christ communkates Hi~ merits to each irfdividual and there is in turn a mutual interchange of °good ottices between each "saint." "The Corn .m.union of Saims compr, ises, and is made fruitful, by, three great vital,.movements. A.stream of, ardent love flows from the Chu,ch;.Triumpha, nt to the members of Christ on earth, and thence returns, i.n,.c.9~ntless rushing brooks to the" blessed in heaven. A similar tratiic of lo~e takes place l~etween 291 t C. A~ HERBST, , ~ Review'for Religious the members of the,Church Stlffering and the Churchl Militant. And thirdly that same communion operates between the several ~members of. the Church Militant, producing those fruitful,!centres of life whereby th~ earthly fellowship is continually renewed.',~ '(Karl Adam, Tb~ Spirit of Catholicism, 115.) We on earth belong to the church militant. ~re must fight. We. are soldiers. We are sealed to this by ,the sacrament of confirmation ".through whithwe receive the Holy. Ghost to make us strong and perfect Christians and soldiers of Jesus Christ." In th~ ceremonies of the administration of this. sacrament the bishop gives us a slight blow on the cheek to remind us that we must be ready to suffer any-thing, even death, for the sake of Christ. Even a little child is a soldier in.the church on earth. We are soldiers in the church mili-tant, but soldiers without guile, without., malice, weak even, and foolish like God, "for the foolishness of God is wiser than men; and the weakness 6f God, is stronger than men~" (I Cor. 1 ~25). We, are invincibly armed With the eight-fold blessing of the beatitudes: poor. in spirit, meek, clean of heart, merciful; we mournl hunger and .thirst after justice, are peacemakers, suffer per, secution for justice' sake. , We fight with spiritual weapons, especially with prayer. -We .pray for one another here on ~arth. "Give us this day .our .daily bread, and forgive us ou_r trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us, and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.". We pray for one another that we may save our souls, for our father and mother and those dear to us, and for a sick friend. ask for favors and for .the conversion of sinners. We pray at Mass and ¯ offer it "for all those present and for allfaithful Christihns," for the holy father and the .bishop by name, and pause to make a special prayer'for the., living. It would be but belaboring the obviousto dwell at length on the intercession of the "saints" here on earth for one another and on the wonderful fruits that.comer from their, good offices in behalf of one another. T.he church' suffering ~s in purgatory, where the souls of, ~he just not yet fully ptlrified are cleansed. Nothing defiled can ~nter heaven. We cai~ help them. The Council of Trent teaches that "there .is a purgatory and that the souls detained .there are: helped by the suffrag,es of the faithful and most of all by the acceptable sacrifice Of the altar" (Decretum de purgatorio). So we follow them with our prayegs. We are still bound to them by the bond of love, by the bond of Christian charity, which is the blood-stream that vivifies 292 November, 1"952, THE COMMUNION O~ SAINTS the communion of ¯saints. Even death cannot break-that bond. "Love is stronger than death." "Charity never falleth away: whether pr6phecies shall be made void, or tongues shall cease, or knowledge shall be destroyed" (I Cot.' 13:8). "Charity which' is the.bond uniting the members of the Church.extends no~.0nly~to the living but also to the dead who die in chari~y. For charity, which is the life of the soul, even as the soul is the life of the body. does not cease." (S. Thom., Suppl.,,q. 71, a. 2.) "It is the'refore a hply and wholesome tl'iought to pray for the dead, othat they may be 16os'ed from their sins" (II Mach. 12:46). This has always been the mind of holy. l~other Church for all .her children, an~ today, as for alm6st two thousand years, ther~ fails f~rom the lips of countless millions the plea! "Eternal rest grant unt~ them, O Lord. and let perpetual light shine Upon them. May they. rest in peace. Amen." The poor souls can pray. of course. In fact. they have nothing else to do but be occup.ied with holy thoughts and desires. ""They thank, they sing the mercies of the Saviour. but always, with a back-. ward-looking towards past, sins. They petition,.but for others, and for themselves only that others may be inspired' by God to pray for them." " (3ugie, Purgatorg, 660 Gratitude would seem to demand that they pray for their benefactors. They are truly poor souls because they can do.little to help themselves and because they must suffer so much, but they g'do not forget, us, and:they will render us good for good. Not c6ntentmerely to. receive, they give. They give that which, the most miserable can .al~ays give. ~They give pra~/er.'" (Ibid., 72.) And since charity must be, mutual in the communion of saints as.elsewhere and the blessed interced~ for the souls in put-, gatory, these "repay the good offices of Heaven by ceaseless prais.e." Many think that ,Jesus and Mary and the saints and angel~ visit purgatory. After all, it is the vestibule of heaven. The guardian angels it seems, are especially at home there. St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi and St. Margaret Mary saw them there. Cardina! Newman pictures one bidding adieu to a soul there. - "Farewell, but not for ever! brother dear, Be brave and patient on thy bed of sorrow; S~wiftly shall pass the night of trial here, ' And I will come and.w~ke thee on the morrow." (Dream of Gerontius., 899-902). ~ith th'e m6rrow comes the dawn of eternal day. The, chur~fi .293 C. A. HERBST Review for Religi~u~ ,shffering passes into the church triumphant. God's children, mili-tant on earth, suffering in purgatory, ¯have c6me home to heaven. The Council of Trent commands that Catholics be taught that "the saints reigning with Christ ,offer their prayers to God for men, and that it is good and useful earnestl~r to invoke them: that their'prayers and powerful aid be sought to~ obtain benefits from God through His Sbn Jesus Christ Our Lord, Who alone is our Redeemer and our Saviour." (Decretum de invocatione Sanctorum.). The many saints assigned by the Church to ~ach day of the year to intercede for fis indicates how fictiv'ely we should be in communion with them. Each of us has his patron saint. ~ We pray to'them and to Mary, the queen of all the saint~, and to our guardian angels. And they pray for us. "And the smoke of the incense of the prayers of the saints ascended , up before Go.d from the hand of the angel" (Apoc. 8:4). How many graces and favors and miracles even they have obtained for u§ we shall never know till we meet them face to face. It is probable, too, ~hat the blessed can efficaciously intercede~for the souls in purga-tory. The elect might very well owe a'debt of gratitude to a sofil in purgatory for some service rendered on earth. And a patron~saint to whom we had great devotion on earth will hardly abandoh us when " We get to purgatory. The communion of saints is a most consoling doctrine. It takes the sting from death, that most~ final and dev~astating ~of events. 'Holy Mother Church insists that on .the day of a holy. person's death we are "celebratin'g ?/is birthday" into heaven, l~ather, mother, brother, sister 'are born ifito eternal life. They hive simply gone'. home. That is what they were" born for. They have left the lowest degreeof the Church, the church militant, and have entered a higher, the church suffering, where they are confirmed in grace and'charity, where eternal life is infallibly.insured to them, and where there is also great joy. Soon the3~ will pass gloriously into the church tri-umphant. We have not lost them but gained them. They are waiting for us there. They ar~ watching over us, praying for us. They love us more now than they ever could on earth; We\are dearer to them now than ever; they can help us far more now. When we pass. into the church suffering their ~rayers will not ceas~ until we come home with them. That will be a wonderful reunion. We shall'never be ¯ separated again. "'Commu6ion of S.aints--what a glad and blessed light illumines it!' It is the hidden treasure, the secret joy of the Catholic.' When 294 November, 1952 THE COMMUNI~)N OF SAINTS he thinks on the Communion of Saints his heart is enlarged. He pass?s out of the solitariness of here and of there, of ye.sterday tomorrow, of I and thou, and he is enfolded in an unspeakably intimate communion of spirit and of life, far. surpassing his n~eds and dearest wishes, with'all those great.ones whom the grace of God hasforged from the refractory stuff bf our humanity and raised' to His height, to participation in His being. Here are no limitations of space and time. Froth out of the remote ages of the past, from civi- .lizations and countries of which the memory is now only faintly echoed in legend, the saints pass into his presence, and call him ~brother, and enfold him with their love. The Catholic is never alone." (Karl Adam, The Spirit of Catholicism, 139, 140.) FOR THE SOCIAL APOSTOLATE Catholics Speak on Race Relations, by Rev. Danid M. Cantwell, is a valuable handbook of quotations on interracial justice and charity. 64 pages, with a good index to the qd~tations, Price: 25 cents each for orders of less than fifty; gener-ous reductions for larger orders. Order from: Fides Publishers, 21 W. Superior, Chi.cago 10, Illinois. Social Thought of the American Hierarchy, b~y Wilfrid Parsons, S.d., is a con-cise, easy-to-read, 24-page summary'of the social teaching of our American Bish-ops. It outlines their constructive teaching on such things as unions, industry councils, rent, human relations, .public morality, divorce, censorship, and family life. Price: 25 cents each; graduated reductions for orders of more than five. Order from: Social O~rder, 3655 West Pine'Boulevard, St. Louis 8, Missouri. S'ocial Order, the recent!y-founded publication of the Institute of Socia~ Order, now' announces special rates for two- and three-year subscriptions.- It is pubiished monthly, except duly and August, and it is 6f invaluable assistance to all.who are engaged in, or otherwise interested in, the social apostolate. "Price: $4.00, one year; $6.00, two years: and $7.50, three years. Order from:.Social Order, 3655 West Pine Boulevard, St. Louis 8, MiSsouri. BOOKS~FOR NOTHINg? We have been asked about a new "crusade," the purpose of which is to stock tee community libraries with new books--~-" for almost nothing. The scheme is too complicated to describe in detail, but it seems to come to' this: you send out one new book, add your name to, a circulating list, and eventually you will get 256 new books. The ide.a seems to be that ever~tone who~ sends out the~ one. new~ book will get 256 in return. We'are not versed in the higher forms of mathematics, but according to our simple arithmetic, this adds up-~o magic. 295 .No!:es on.Race Relat:ions Gerald Kelly, S.J. =~'HE Most Reverend Astone-Chich.ester, S.J., Vicar Apostolic of ~' Salisbury, in Southern Rhodesia,~presents an excellent analysis 0 of the "Problem of Race Relations" and its proper solution, in The South" African Ctergg Reoiew, for ~:ebruary, August, and No: vember, 1951. For the future of Africa, and indeed for the whole world, he s~¢s, there must be a solution to the race problem which is just to everyone. ~ InAfrica, the problem is intiniatel~, associated with its tremen-dous resources which are so badly needed by the rest of the world. To develop these resources native labor must be used. This calls for. bettering the health conditions of the native populations, .and this cannot be done without education. Education in turn leads to de-mands for better economic .position, and this. will call for a better political standing. If the political standing is not given, the result will be discontent and strife. In his various articles Bishop Chichester develops the points men- .tioned above; I~hen he outlines first a false, then a true, solution ~to the race. problem. The false s91ution'is one that does not recognize the intrinsic value of the non-European as a true human .b.eing; that sub, sfitutes the utilitarian 1~rinlip.le of. "enlightened self-interest" for the rational and Christian principle of mutual sympathy and respect; and that uses religion, as a mere tool for conveniently settling human problems. The third article outlines the prindples on which the true solu-tion mus['be based. For the most part. these principlds are but a re-statement of basic human rights and duties;, but the last. principle is somewhat unusualand might be .a subject of meditation for ~11 of "It is through God's providence that diverse races and varieties human beings come into this world, each of them intended tO add its peculi~ir goodness to the w0rld. T.herefore we ought,_ as a duty to God, to look at-the good qualitie.s in others and tq.praise them, the more partic, ularly as'~they are different from our own)' Bishop Chichester then~ ~oes on to show that Euiope~ns and ¯ non-E~ropeaia~ in. Africa are interdependent: first, materiallyl because 296 " - ~' NOTES ON RACE RELATIONS the European need~,the~.African labor and the African ne~ds "the ~ European's knowledge, of technique and. his m.achiner)i: and also spirituall'y. "The Afri,can," he iays, '.'needs the integrity, .self-control, sense of responsibility which is the'i~heritance of a sound 'Eurgpean tradition. But the European needstheAfrican, and can learn cheerfulness, p'atience ,and humility from him." Toward the end of his third article, the Bishop returns to the question of "racial superiority"--the false attitude on which no satisfactory sdlution Of race problems can be based. No matter how . seemingly affable or even generous the white man is, he will never ' solve the race problem unless he tre~ats the non-white With ge'nuin~ respect, a respect built on the consciousness o~ personal dignity. This ds aptly brought out by the following words of a Nigerian African: ¯ "Some Europeans wonder why: the hitherto ignorant African w~6m thdy. have bedn kind enough t9 educate soon takes up ,a hostile. attitude towards them. It is not due to ingratitude; it is not due to failure to'~ealize wh~t difference for thd bdtter his contact With the European has made for him. In many cases it is the reiult of wounded bon0r. This may be a personal opinion; but a close exam, ination Will reveal that it lies.beneath many racial prbblems today." Another s~atethent on Race Relations, issued by all the Arch-bishops and Bishops of South Africa, is published in The Catholic Mind, September, 1952, pp~ 572-76. The entire statement is well worth, reading. .The point that impressed me as~ most interesting in. 'tills statement is. the Bishops' realistic facing .of.t,laeir problem by dis-tinguishing between essential human "rights, and what they ca!! secondary rights. The first category includes:' "the right-to life, ~'dignity, sustenance, worshil3, to the integrity~ use and normal devel-opment of ¯faculties, to ~vork and the frt~it of work, to private owner-ship Of property, to sojourn and' movemen'f, to marriage and the procreation and education of childrdn,:'t0 assoCiation with one's.fel-low- men." The Bishops insist that no one should be deprived of th~ ,exercise of these rights:" . By secondary rights the statement means such things as partici-pation in political and social life. Non-Europeans who are fitted for such participatioh are entitled to it. But the Bishops admit that large numbers of the non-Europeans are not yet sufficiently developed for-this~ kind 6f equality, arid the duty of the Europeans in this case is to help t15em in thi~ cultural development. What do our own Bishops say about tl~e race problem? One GERALD.KELLY . . . ~ Review [or Religious .who is interested in the answer to this question will do well t~con, suit Catholics Speak on Race¯ Relations, by Father Daniel M. Cant-well. In this little 'booklet of ~xce~dingly quotable quotations Father Cantwell has sixty-t';vo statements by Popes and various members of the 'hierarchy. Thirty-seven of these are made¯ by our own hierarchy. Representative of the latter are such brief pointed remarks as these: "Among the saints there is no distinction of race or color" (Car-dinal Stritch) ; ".The race of which it is our duty to be conscious is the entire human race" (Archbishop Cushing); "Is it not Catholic doctrine that when a brother is excluded,¯ re-jected, segregated, it is Christ Who is insulted and humiliated?" (Archbishop Lucey) ; "I doubt very much whether in the field of jbb discrimination we can educate unless we also legislate" (Bishop Haas on FEPC) ; and '-'Jim Crowism in the Mystical Body of Christ is a disgraceful anomaly" (Bishop Shiel). Father Cantwell's booklet is not limited to episcopal statements; it also contains apt quotations from priests, Sisters, laymen, Catholic papers, and°so forth. It is divided into four parts. The first part concerns the fundamental truths of the unity and equality among men. The second refers to human rights: life, work, living family wage, economic freedom, ~education~ housing, neighborhood peace, esteem and honor, marriage, and ~ or~hip of God. The third part concerns various viola.tions bf. these basic rights; ;ind the fourth part deals with positive ways of promoting interracial justice. It is a very valuable booklet, a. re~al "must" for all who are interested in the great cause Of interracial justice and amity. For details about¯ the price, see page 295 qn'thi~ number of' the Revietv. Foremos.t.amQng the race problems in the United States is the so-called Negro problem. On this problem, the annual statement of our hierarchy, issued November 1 i, 1943, contains the .following directive: "In the Providence of God there are among us millionsof fell~w citizens of the Negro race. We owe to these fellow citizens, who have contributed so largely to the development of our country, and for whose welfare history imposes on us a ¯special Obligation of jus-tice, to see. that~ they have in fact the rights which are given them in 298 November, 1952 N~)TES ON RACE RELATIONS our Constitution. This means not only political' equality, but also fair economic and educational opportunities,.a just share', in public welfare projec'ts, good housing without exploitation, and a full chance for the social development of theirrace." (Cf. Huber, Our Bishops Speak, p. 118.) Social Order, .for February, 1952, contains an analysis if a re-port on family incomes for the year 1949. It is interesting to read some of the items of this report in the light of the Bishops' statem+nt lust°quoted. For inst~ince, 10.4 per cent ofth~ white families had incomes under $1,000:~ whereas 30.9 per cent of the non-white fami-lies were in this bracket. 13'.7 percent of the white families' .incomes were between $1,000 aiad $1,999: whereas 28.6 per cent.of the non- . white families fell within these limits. "For incomes from $2,000 to1 $2,999, there were 20.5 per cent of the white families, and 22.1 per cent of the nbn-white. Finally, as regards incomes exceeding $3,000 (the or~lgt bracket, incidentally, which includes income thai would correspond with Catholic teaching on the family living wage), 55.4 pqr cent of the white families attained this level, as against 18.4 per cent of the non-white families. Pessimistic though these comparative statistics are from the l~oint of view of interracial j~ustice, the economic picture is not entirely Without brightness, at least asregards Negro employment. "Fortune, for July, 1952, has an article entitled "Negro Employment: A Progress Report," b.y John A. Davis, which shows' that ~luring the last decade the Negroes in our country have made coiasiderable gains in employment. But these gains, says l~Ir. Davis, "were possible only through FEPC. They cannot continue without further legis-lation." This agrees with the opinion of Bishop Haas, previously quoted in these notes. All of us, no doubt, would prefer some kind of voluntary program of fair employment practices. We would prefer "education" to "legislation"--but actual facts show that it is not a sirhple matter of "either-or"; we need both'the education and the legislation. Mr. Davis's report shows that legislation has ac-tually produced good results where a plan of Voluntary action was ineffective. A'ccording to him, the recent gains in Negro employ-ment are largely attributable to the fact tha't in eleven states and twenty-two .cities, embracing sixty million people, business is now operating under some kind of Fair Emp19Yment Practice laws. In'"The Church Segregated" (The Priest, July, 1952), 2ohn Richards sees the segregation policy as practiced within th~ Church 299 GERALD K~LLY ,~" through the eyes of a Catholic Negro f~riend. This friend refuses to contribute to a drive for'a .new "colored'.' cburch'because be says he,' does not approve of segregated churches. He resents the fact t~at som~.Cat.holic schools willingly take Protestant white pupils, but exclud~ col6red' Catholic children. He believes that state laws requiring segregated education do not apply, to Catholic schools; 'and even if they did apply the Church should be the first.to Oppose such laws. He is ~distressed when priests join the Knigh~ts of Columbus, because he says that in his locality the Knights of Columbus is.a lily, White organiza'tion: an~ if "the Negro parishioners are not good enough for the local council, then the local council is not good enough for the pastor of these parishioners." Also, he sees no'valid reason for referring to the segregated colored parishas the Negro mis~ sion; nor any~more reason for efitering "Negro""in the Baptisma! ¯ register than there is for noting "black hair." , "Theqntegration of Negroes in Catholic parishes, in the South would drive lukewarm Catholics away from the Church." This rationalization leavesdohn'Richards' friend cold---oi', to shift the figure of 0speech, it makes him hot. The Church's insistence on ~the. di;cine" law regarding birth control_ and divorce drives lukewarm Catholics away; too but the doct~:ine is not watered down nor the practice of virtue mitigated for their sakes. Why should :the .policy be different regarding the inherent injustice of the segregation policy? To all the friend'~ omplaints, I say "Amen." At its best racial segre'gatio.n isan ugly thing: practiced in any' specifically Catholic institution it is at its worst. And this brings me back to Father Cantwell s little booklet, tothe following quotation from a pastorai letter'of Bishop Vincent Waters, of Raleigh,,N~C.': : " "To believe ~hat one race or nation.is superior to another in the Churcl~, or before God, is heresy and should be condemned. ~'"Equal ,rights are.accorded, .therefdre, 'to,every race and every " nationality in afiy Catholic churc~h, and within the church building itself eyeryone is given ~he privilege to sit or kneel wherever he de-sireS, and to approach the Sacraments Without any regard to race or. ~ nationality. ; . "Pastor~ are responsible for the observance of this practice." TEN-YEAR INDEX More cbpies 9f the Ten Year Index of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (1947.- l~95.!)~oare still available at one dollar per copy. Kindly enclose payment with the oider from REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, S12 Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. ° 300 qo,ooo Francs "or Lire Adam C. Ellis, S.~I. AS SUPREME ~ administrator' and steward of. all church prop-erty (canon. 1518) the Roman Pontiff has the duty of regu-lating the' administration of all prop~erty owned by moral persons in the Church (dioceses, parishes, religious houses, and the !ike). ,Just as the state regulates the, civil corporations which it brings into existence and safeguards their financial'transactions, so the Code of ~Canon Law contains many prescriptions regarding the property of moral.persons in the Church. One of the most important of.these.is~the limitation put upon such moral persons with"regard to the alienation of property and the incurring of debts. Law of the Code Canon 1532 lays down a general law for all moral .persons in the Church, limiting their power to alienate property'to the sum of 30,000 life or francs, and canon 1538 extends this limitation to the incurring of debts: canon 534.applies both .these" general laws to religious moral persons (institutes, provinces,, hofises) .and protects it With other detailed requirements: These canons requir.e the permis' sign of the Holy See in order to alienate property or to borrow mon.ey when the sum involved excdeds 30,000 francs or 1ire. When the Code of Canon Law was published in 1917, canon~st~ almost unanimously interpreted "'30,000 francs or life" according to the gold standard which then prevailed in Europe. As far back as 1865, Belgium, France, Italy, and Switzerland had established the Latin Monetary Union in which it was agreed that all four coun-tries" were to issue coins of equal foim. weighf, and value (gold con-tent) to be equally usable in all four countries. According to thi~ gold standard, fran.cs: whether Belgian~ French, or Swiss were truly equal both among themselves and to the Italian lir~ Hence the com-mon reference througho.ut the canons of the Code to "francs o? 1ire." Most.of the couniries of Europe followed the standard of the Latin Monetary Union in ,oract~'ce. Some had coins of the same value as the franc or lira, others of equivalent value. Thus in 1917 ;the- 301 ADAM C, ELLIS i~et~iew for Religion,. ~0,000 francs or life of the cknons regarding alienation or ~he in-curring of debts were evaInated as follows: 30,000 Belgian francs French francs STcciss francs Italian fire Spanish pesetas Bulg.arian leva Greek drachmas Serbian din~rs 24;000 English shillings (1,200 pounds) 24,000 German marks 27,000 Au~strian crowns 6,000 U.S. dollars 6,000 Canadian dollars While all the coin-s listed in the first column above had an actual gold value Of $.193, forpractical purposes they were e~caluated at'5 to the dollar, and thhs the sum of $6,000 was arrived at for the united States and Canada. The EngliSh shilling and the German mark were evaluated at 4 to the dollar. The,Roman Curia never formally declared that "30,000 francs Or life" were to :be taken as gold francs or life. Nevertheless, in practice, the Sacred Congregations of Religious, for the Propagation of the Faith, and of the Eastern Church, and the Sacred Consistorial Congregation permitted their clients to interpret these sums on the basis of gold, and f0r the United States and Canada it wasc6m-monly held that one did not need to get the permission of the. H01y See for an Jalienation or for a loan unless the sum involved exceeded $6,000 in gold. : Two world wars within a period of twenty-five years disrupted the moneta_ry systems of the nations of the world. In our own country, on January 31; 1934, the 'American gold dollar was devaluated from 100 cents to .5906 cents. Hence a 100 cent gold dollar was worth $1.692 of the present 59 cent dollars. As a mat-ter of ~act, all. gold currency had to be turned over to'the U.S. gov-ernment, and. no 59 cent dollars were ever coined. However, at that time,,it was estimated that henceforth the 30,000 lire or fra.ncs of theCode corresponded to !0,000 of the 59 cent dollars, and that one needed permission from the Holy See for aliena.tions and loans only When the transaction exceeded 10,000 present day. dollars. In Europe, especially in Latin countries,¯ currency 10st its prewar ~alue and i~ was difficult to determine jus~t what the equivalent bf the 30.2 November, ~1952 :' 10,000 GOLD FRANCS OR LIRE" .30:000 francs, or'fire was in th~ paper money .of the day. ~s a result' some persons went to the. extreme of never asking the permis-sion Of the Holy See. for alienations and loans. To remedy the' situ-ation, at least for the religious of Italy, the Sacred Congregation of Religious recently required that PermiSsion had to be" obtained for alienations and loans whenever the'amount in~,olved exceeded one million fire. - - The New Decree Finally, to provide a general re.medy for the situation, the Sac~d Consistorial Congregation issued the following decree on July 113, 1951: Since~he'change~in value o-~ "both metal and paper mon'ey has created particular'di~culties in certain place~ regarding the applica-tion of the pre.scription of canons 534, .§ I and 1532, § I, 2° of the Code of Cadon Law,. the Holy See has been requested "tO. establish'a suitable norm. Wherefore, having considered" the matter carefulhj, His .Holiness, Plus XII by Divine Providencb Pope, has kindly v6uchsafed to ¯ determine by this Decree of the Sacred Consistorial C~ngregation that, as long a~ present conditions last and subject to. the will of the Holy See, recourse must be had to the same Apostolic See whenever {here is question of a sum of money which exceeds ten thousand gold francs or life. There can be no doubt about the" fact that, for. the present least, the Holy See has taken the gold st~ndard"as~a norm 'for.the amount of money rcqui~ing the consent of the Holy See for aliena'- tion of church property and for tile incurring of debts. Our present problem is to translate."10,000 gold francs or. lire" into. modern paper currency. The most obvious way would be to take $2000 gold dollars of 1914 to a bank and ask that they be converted into present day dol-lars. The banker probably would call the police, Since it is against the law for: a private citizen to have gold cdin in' hi's possess~ign. But supposing the banker were a kindly soul and forbore tutning",one over to the law,-he would be allowed by law to give only .$2~000 paper dollars in e~change for the gold. " :: ¯ Another w, ay would b~ to (ake 10,000 gold. frhncs and .get .,the value in actual Belgian ~Sr French francs, and th.en.redute it to presen,t day dollars. F.atber f~mile Berg}i, S.J. (Revue des Communaut~s Re, ligieuses, 1951, p. 166), tells us that at.the end of.World War. IEin. ¯. : 303 ADAM C, ELLIS 1945 it w'as estimated.that ~he 30,000,francs for Which one needed aft indult fromthe Holy"See r.epresen, t.ed from,900,000 tO 1,000,000 actual Belgian f~ancs. Sirice tl~e recent decree now requires recourse for l(J~000 gold tirancs, this would amount to one third the sum .give~ above,-that is, to at iea~t 300,000 Belgian francs,-and'to 2,200.~300 French francs ~es16ectively. Reducing these sums. to American dollars ~t the cfirrent rate of ~xdhange, we get a minimum of $6,000 at 50 Belgian ~rancs" to the dollar, and $6,285 ';it 350 -French francs to the dollar. ':Father' Joseph Creusen, S.J. (Revue des ,Communaut~s Reti-gieuse~, 1952, p.-66), c~lls attention to the fact that the term "gold franc" may mean either the purchasing po.wer of the gold kilo; or its worth on the official exchange, or on the free market. He prefers to assess the value of the gold franc on th.e basis of its buying power immediately before World War I in 1914, but does.not tell uswha~ this would be in terms of present day dollars. ~ Finally, Father George Jarlot, S.2.,,a professor~at the Institute of Social S~iences of the Gregorian University, Rome, informs us that th~ pu~rchasing power of 10.000 gold francs in 1914 was equal to about $7,000 in American money.today (Periodica, 1952. p. 156), ¯ This is also th~ sum arrived at as the equivalent of the "10,000 gold francs,or life" bit other Roman canonists, according to private infor-mation received by the writer. , ~. Conc'lusion: Father A. Guttierez, C.]k,I.F. (Commentaridm pro Rbligiosis, 1951, 258), w~hile not" hazarding,ar~ opinion Of his own as to the value of "10,000 gold francs or lire" thinks it would be desirabl'e to have the Holy See determine-the equivalent for each ¯ country. Until this is done, we.may safely follow Jarlot's opinion a~nd~ consider 7,000 present day dollars as the equivalent of the 10,000 goldfrancs or life set as the norm by the iecent decree of- the S~c'red Consistorial Congregation. Whenever. therefore,-there is que'stion of'the hlien~tion of property or of the incurring 6f a debt, thd'value of which exceeds $7',000, the permission of the Holy See must.b~ obtained in order that the transaction may be valid. We take this occasion" to remind our readers that the permission nec~essary may now be obtained from Hi.~ Excellency, the Apostolic Delegate in~ ,Washihgton, D.C., ~vhen the sum involved does not exceed a half. .million gold dollarS;~ pr6vided the other conditions prescribed by .the la~v a~re fulfilled. (See Bou~caren, Canon Law Di'gest, Supplement 1948;,I3.~.131, under i:anon 858). ~ 304 Address ot: PoPe Pius XII .Religious Superiors [Tl~is address was given tO the supekiors genera! of institutes of geligious4women. on Se~teraber 15, 1952, at the conclusion of their first international congress.] . ELOVED daughters, We extend Our fatherly greeting tb you, who have come in such large numbers 'to the~ International Congress of Superiors General of O~ders and congregatisris of,' Women, and who, at the endof your labors, on th~ ¯point of putting into.effect the results.of your deliberations, have come't0, ask of.Us , the blessing of the Vicar of Christ. When the Sacred Congregation of Religious proposed calling this ,Congress to Us, Wefelt obliged to think'it over. An enterprise o'f in'ternation~il scope such as this always demands a considera.ble. penditure of time, money, and effort. Nevertheless, We had to acknowledge its necessity or, at least, its Usefulness~ Indeed, We felt OUrselves obliged td ~,ield before the solidity of the reasons pre-. sented; and the imposing assemblage~ which We have before Our eyes, your countenances, your entire appearance tell-Us that great good ~¢iI1 has been at work these days. ~ Yes, beloved' daughters, the echoes of the Congress which follow i~s conclusion hav~ proclaimed how-seriously you regard the service of God and flow desirous yos are of .spendin.g yourselves for your religious families and for the Church. With this. in view, you hop~e to receive fiom .Us a word of consolation, 6f eficouragement, and of direction. " Just one" year ago, We t~:eated in detail a series of questions. to~iching on ~he prog.ress of teaching orders and congregations and their adaptation to present conditions. Some, if not mos~, of thi~ in-structions We gave on that occasion hold equally true for all -other religio~s congregations. The experiences of the year .which has elapsdd urge Us to draw your attention to the directives which¯ We formulated at that time. We ask you to conform to them cousage-ously when your sisters and yot~r own experience tell you that. the time has come tO take intelligent account of aspects of contemporary life. We have,, moreover', a very special .reason for .speakin~ to you. You know that orders of wom~n are now facing a very grave crisis. We refer to the decline in .the number of vocations. Most assuredly,. POPE PlUS XII ' Reoiew for Reli~lions this crisis has not touched all countries. Even .where it has raged, its iritensity is not e.verywhere l~he same. 'tSut right now in one group of Euroi~ean countrie~ it i~ alarm, ing. In one region, where twenty years ago the religious life of women was in full flower the number 'of vocations has dropl~ed to half. And yet in times past serious diffi-culties impeded the vocations of girls, whereas iia Our day external ~onditions seem to 'impel them thither and there' would seem to be a iaeed for guarding against imag!ne.d x, ocations. We do not intend a detailed discussion of this crisis which is causing Us such deep anxiety. Another occasion will furnish. Us . with the opportunity~ Tod~y We wish only to address those, b~ they priests'or laymen, preachers, speakers, or Writers, who hax, encit a word c~f aigproval or of praise for viriginity pledged to Christ; who, for year~, in spite of admonitions by the Church; ~nd contrary;' to her mind', have accorded marriage an essential superiority 6ver the virginal state; w15o even go so far as to present marriage as the only rfieans capable of assuring.the development and natural perfection of human personality. Th~se who speak and write thus mu'st take. cognizance of their responsibility to God and to the Church. must reckon them amongst those chiefly responsible for a state of affairs of which We cannot speak without sadness. When, through-outth~ Christian world'.ahd everywhere else. there, re-ech0 at)veals ' for Catholic sisters, it is quite ordinary to be com't~elled reluctantly to give one negative answer after another. Yes, even long;sthnding . establishments--hospitals and educational institutions must be closed from time. to time--all because vocations do not eqtial the " needs. As for yourselves. "h~r'e are Our recommendations. With voca-tions in their present critical state, see to it that the religious habits, the manner of life, or the asceticism of your religious families do not form a barriei or a'cause of failure in vocations. We speak of c'ertain usage~ which, while they once had meaniog in another cultural milieu, are meaninbless'today, and in which' a truly good and cou-rageous girl would find only obstacles'to, her vocation',, In "Oul statement of last year We gave various examples 6f this. To repeat briefly on the question of clothing: the religious habit must always express consecration to Christ; that is what everyone expects and desires. Bu( the habit should alsb conform to modern demands and correspond to the :ne~ds of hygiene. We could not fail to express.Our satisfacti6ff--when, in the.course of. the year, We lsaw that sortie con-" 306 November, 1952 " ADDRESS TO RELIGIOUS SUPERIORS gregations had already put some of these ideas into practice. In a word, in these things that are not essential, adapt .yourselves as far as reason and well-ordered chhrit% advise. This said, We propose to you, beloved daughters, two matters with Our most earnest commendation: ~ 1) A motherl~t spirit as regards the direction of your sisters. It is undoubtedly true, as psychology claims, that a woman vested with authority does not succeed so easily as a man in measuring and bal- ~ancing strictness with kindness. All the more¯ reason fcir ~cultivating your maternal feelings. Convince yourselves that the vows have re-quired a great sacrifice from your sisters, as from yourselves. They have renounced family, the happiness of marriage, and the intimacy ¯ of the home--a sacrifice of. much value, of decided importance for the apostolate of the Church, but a sacrifice all the same. Those of your sisters whose spirit is nobldst and most refined feel this separation most keenly. The words of Christ, "He who puts his hand to the plow and then .looks back is not fit for the Kingdom of God," find complete and, even today, unreserved application here. "But the brder must replace the family as far as possible; and you, 'the superiors gen-eral, are called up.on first and foremost to breathe into the community life of your sisters tile spirit of family affection. Also, you yourselves must be maternal in yo, ur external attitude, in_ your written and spoken words, even if, at times', you ha'~e to exercise self-control; above all, be thus in your inner thoughts, in your ,judgments, and, as far as possible, in your feelings. Every day ask Mary, the Mother off Jesus and our Mother, to teach you to be motherly. 2) The formation o~ ~tour sisters for the v~ork and .the task which is incumbent upon them. Here let there .be no parsimony; take a broad and generous view. Be it a question of education, pedagogy, the care of the sick, artistic or other activities, the sister ought to 'entertain this conviction: "My superior is making pos'sible for me a fotmatibn which wlill put me on an equal footing withmy colleagues in the world." Make it possible also for them, and g!ve them the.means, to keep their profession, al .knowledge and training up to date. On this point We have also elaborated dr/ring the past ¯ year. We repeat it in order to underline the importance of this re-quirement. for the interior pea~e and foi the work of your sisters. "'" You come, beloved daughters, from all parts of th~ world, Prom near and far. Tell your sisters that We thank them for their prayer, 307 "POPE PIUS XII of ~vbich We have snch great need; 'for their good exampl'e~ Which helps" powerfull~ to confirm so many.Cath01ics in their faith and to lead to the Church ~o many who do not belong to it; for their work in the service of 3iouth, the sick and the poor, in tl~e missions, in so many other w, ays~ all of which are so valuable for the growth and strengthening of the reign of ~lest~s Christ over souls. Tell ~our sis-ters. that'We give~ them all Our affectibn; that their concerns are Our'. concerns~ .their joys Our joys; tha.t, above;all, We wish for them the two-fold strength of courage and of, patience in the work of their own perfection and in the apostolote which their' Divine Master and Spouse has assigned them. As a token of Our patqrnal, benevolence ~nd a pledg~ of- the tri-umphant grace and love of ~the Divine Heart; We grant you, beloved daughters, for you.rselves, your ~isters, and your worksl Our Apostolic Benedktion. ADDRESS TO TEACHING SISTERS NOTE: The exhortation to the first international Congress of Teaching Sisters (September 15. 1951) to which the Holy Father refers in the foregoing address is i~ublished: in The Catholic Mind, ,June. 1952, pp. 376-80. The .following are a.mong the p.ei~tinent passages: ~ . "'The religious habit: choose it in such a way that it becomes the expression of inward naturalness, of simplicity and spiritual mfdes'ty. , Thus.it will e~dify every-one, even modern young, people . : "Followed in letter and spirit, your const~tut,0ns, too, facilitate and bring the Sister all she needs and must do in our time to be a good teacher and educator. This also ~applies to purely mechanical matters. In many "countries today, for example, even Sisters "use bic~ycles.when their work~demands it. At first¯ this was something' 'entirely new, though not against the Rule. It ispossible that some details of the school schedules, certain¯ reguiations---simple applicatifns of the" Rule--:-certain cus-toms. which were, perhaps, in harmony with past .conditions but which today° merely hinder educational work, must be adapted, to new circumstanc:s. Let supe-riors and~the general chapter prb~eed in this matter conscientiously, .with.foresight, prudence and cour.age and, where the case demands, let them not fail to submit the proposed changes to. competent ecclesiastical authorities." COMMUNICATIONS ON INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS Superiors and ,others who were privileged to attend the International Congress of Superiors General of Orders and Congregations of Women in Rome would 'do a great service~to our readers by sending their 0bservatio~s .on the congress. 308. ues ons and Answers M~'y a religious have the interest on his i~herifance? Suppose amounts to $300 a year: may he use this amount for Masses, hls'relatlves, or fo'r charlfy?. A religious~with: sole,mn yows loses all right to own, so there ~an be question here.only of a religious With. a simple, vow 6f poverty. He.ma.y .not.have the interest on his,inheritance, because canon 569, § 1 explicitly obliges every novice before taking first vows, to give away the usufruct or annual income deriving from his perso.nal pr6perty, unless the constitutions provide otherwise. The novice is free to give his annual incorn~ (interest on money, stocks, .bond~, rents from real estate; and the like) tO any. person., physical or moral, v~hom.he Nay choose; but h~ is forbidden to use it for himself, or to distribute it himself annually. The whole tenbr of the history of this canon is to the effect that the beneficiary.of the income :is .to .b~ determined upon once for all. Should the beneficiary die, another person may be appointed in his place; but in order to change the beneficiary determined upon at the'time of first profession, the per-mission of the superio.r is required unless the constit~utions provide otherwise (canon 580,.§ 3). We ~ave been invited to s~nd in our requests and compla~infs which will be proposed to the general chapter to be held within the n~xt 'three months. Are we obliged to slcjn our.names to these suggestions, or wili it be sufflclentto give them to on~e of the .delegates to the general chap-ter. and s.ay that these a~'e the requests of a.number~ of rellgious? Unless the constitutions or ~ustom require .that such requests or complaints must be signed, they need not be signed. Usually .they. a.re given to one of the delegates to the gen.er~al chapter who, in turn, at the proper time, turns them in to the special committee appointed for the purpose of screenin, g such requests and' complaints. Those that are considered worthy of the attention of the general chapter are pro-- posed to it in. due time during the chapter of affairs.,. At the end of thechapter, before a vote to adjourn is taken, any delegate may ask that a request or complain.t whichhas been turned, in but has. not - been submitted to the general chapter should now be read, and the 309 QUESt'IONS AND ANSWERS ,7 chapter will then vote first.on Whether the request or complaint is to be considered or not. If it is rejected, that is the end of the matter. If the majority vote is .for }onsidering it, it will then be considered in the same Way as the other requests or complaints, which were already, submitted to the general'ch.apter, ~30~- ~ By ou~" constifutlons We are directed to make one hour of~menfal prayer each day. In some of our houses it frequently happens .that .the Community Mass follows the first half hour.~of prayerJ The second half hodrwill then be made after thanksgiving, during which a second =Mass is sometimes said. Is attendance at this second Mass considered as fulfill;ncj the obligation of the Constitutions? In ma.ny religious communities it is customary for the communit~r to assist at the Mass of a ~isiting priest, usually .on a voluntary basis. There "does not seem to be any objection" to performing one's, spirit-ual duties, such as meditation, rosary, and the like during this second Mass. " Review for Religio~s " We are to have our general, chapter in January. " Is it proper for older delegates to ins~'ru~÷ ÷he youncjer Sis~'ers how ~'o 'vo~'e, "l-ha~" names of capable Sisters to them? " It is highly, improper for the Older delegates to instruct the younger Sisters how to vote in chapter. This is expressly forbidden by canon 507, § 2 which .states: "All must abstain f~om seeking votes either directly.or indirectly for themselves or for.others.':; What is allo'wed by certain c6nstitutions, and should be used with moderation, is to question other members, of the cl'iapter regarding the abilities of certain Sisters who have passive 'voice, that is,° are eligible for office. This should be done in a specific manner, for in-stance; by asking: "Is Sister N.N. firm in her manner of operating, does she ~aye good judgment, is she patient, kind, and the like" rather than ask: :'Do yo9 think Sister N.N. would make a good superior. One might ~sk a Sister who is very well acquainted with the indi~ vidual .in question: "Do you know of any serious.imp.erfection on th~ part of Sister N. N.' which would prevent her from being a good superior?" However, the Sisters of. tl'ie chapter thus in.terrogated are to answer tt~e questions proposed to them, and not offer any general advice not asked for. 3i0 November, 19~ 2 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Is the gblden jubilee in religion counted from date of entrance Or of first profession? There are no regulations in canon law re.garding this matter. Each institute follows its own custom. We l~hink, that, all things. coiisidered, tl~e jubilee shot]ld be counted from-the dal~e" o'f entrance intothe novitiate, since that is the first official step ~f dedication in religion to Christ's service. From" a practical viewpoint; fift~i years is a lon~ period of time, and should begin to run as soon" as possible afte'r" entranc~dnto religion, that is,' from the day of entrance into the novitiate. Cor~stitutions/requiring l~hat the gol.den jubilee be counted from the first temporary"prof.ession, or even frbm per.petu~l profession, may be changed by the proper authority, provided that'a majority 6f the members assembled in g~neral chapter request such a change~ Customs regard!rig the golden jubilee may be changed by'a majority ; ote of the chapte.r Without referring the matter to any higher authority. --33m What is the mind of the Church regarding Sisters "of |he second class," that is, lay Sisters?. Does this not savor of class distinction? Certainly the cl~ss of lay Sisters and Brothers savors of class dis-tinction. However, before condemning the Church for introducing such a distinction; it will be well to recall"that th~ Church take~ so-cial conditions as she finds them and seeks to better thefia gradually, Up t6 the begifining of the twentieth century, ~he only opportunity of bettering their condition was offered to the youth of the poorer classes oi~ Europe by the Chufchin the ranks of her clergy .an'd reli-giou. s. In modern times when the world has become more alert to social justice, and the opportunity to re~eiv~ 'an educati'on has become m6re common, the Church will readily grar~t permissi6n to abolish the class of lay Brothers and Sisters. This is especially true in the case of non'-dlerical i:ongrega.ti6ns of Sisters or Brothers only. The permi~- sioia, may be had for the. as~ing~ l~ovided that a ma'jori~r of the riaem-bers'of the gen.eral chapter reqfies~th~ Hbly See f6t it. In the case of a diocesan dongr~gatiohl ~he 16"c~il 6rdinary can gr~an~ the, p~rmissii3fi: 3il -ommunica ions Reverend Fathers: -It was nice to find an ar~ticle about the National Congress for Re-ligious in the REVIEW, as I had been looking for something in print about it." I had looked in.vain in several periodicals and papers, but with the "exception of The Santa Fe Register, I found notl4ing. I was privileged to be one of the few contemplative ieligious )resent. Another abbess from our monastery in Cleveland was there and a few other cloistered religious. The Congress for Religious was a most impressive and unique gathering, uniting as it did in one purpose, one endeavor, the. supe-riors of many religious orders of men and women. It would be impossible, .without a "record, to even hazard a guess at the number of Orders and Cong'regations that were represented. ¯ All the papers which were read and the discussions, etc. at the session for religious women, wdre compreheniive and manifested deep study and Understanding of the subjects treated. There was not enough time in the three days of the Congress to discuss thoroughly the subjects" chose~a or to cover more subjects. There were also the special sessions.~vhich proved very satisfactory, but some ~loubled up on others, so that only too often it was impossible not to miss one for another, both being conducted at the same time in differdnt buildings. That the subject of "prayer in the li~e of a religious" was com-pletely omitted seemed regrettable to.me. The priest ( I do not re-member .who h~ was) who brought up the subject of the contempla-tive life, and its having so great "an attraction for the youth of our day, left the subject woefully unfinished. That there is a great influx of vocations among the Trappists is evident, and leads one to hope that the future .will prove them to have really been true vocations. However, I do 'n0k believe the youth of our day in general shows a greater attraction for thecontemplative life than those of the past. There is a moderately larger number of v6cations in our day than in the past: but not in proportion to our increasing~populi~ti0n. In fact, taking' into consideration the fact that our Catholic population, our schools, colleges, etc. have vastly increased in the past 40 y'ears, the number of vocations to the contemplative Orders have not increased in prOportion. .: The statement which was made about the typical temptation Of 312 COMMUNICATIONS the active, and contemplative.religious is, I dare Say, not true. ¯ While active religious very often do 'long fo5 more timd for prayer, and the more fervent they are, the m6re they desire ~his.,-it is not.true ~hat the . temptation of the contemplative is to do more. No one but a cbn-templgtive. sh0uld make a statement touching so deeply the contem-plative soul, The contemplativ.e does r~ot feel that she dods not do ,enough, but that she does not pray enough, and .this~ after living many years the cloistered contemplative life. I ihould have liked to speak on the subject, but the paper had already gone over its allotted time, a'nd the subject could not be handled in a few sho~t sentences. " A life.of prayer does not comprise only the hours.allotted .to that _exercise, be it vocal in the recitation of the. Divir~e Office or mental, but it covers every hour of the day. Monastic work is prescribed by the Church for all c0nte~platives, notas a rest or cessation from prayer,, but as a means for uninterrupte.d, continuation of interior prayer. The contemplative knows that until her life is perfected by degrees in this uninterrupted interior p.rayer, not indeed a torturing of_the mind, but a silent, peaceful, interior communing.with Gbd in love, sbehas not yet attaiiaed to anyt~h~ng like, ~/high degree of that which she has set herself to fetich. Any woik, be it manuaLlabor or' simple domestic duties, be it of the literary or artist.ic, type, which fills in the tifiae befGeen the'hours of prayer.proper, must always be for the contemplative but a continuation of that interior union with God ¯ which was begun in her prayer before the Blessed Sacrament. Prhyer is not one department and .work another. The work of the contem-plative is as valuable as her prayer, and her prayers as. valuable, as her work. Her temptation is not to do more, but to fed dissatisfied that. that her life is not a mord uninterrupted union and converse with her' Di~vine Spouse, the striving for the perfection of this.~being her one aim. There is an unseen world which to her is very real. The inci-dents of daily-life are mereaccidentals which are. of valud or~ly so far' as they can purchase for her more p~rfect union with God. This unseen world is as real to her as the things she can ~each out and touch, and touching it she can make every action of hers Prayer. I am speaking o£ pra~er,~ -not pra~/ers. The Di~cine Office, thoughoit is a vocal prayer, can yet give to the. contemplative, one of the most valuable occasions of the day for interior prayer, when her soul can remain in closest union with God, reaching 0ut'to Him in: loving, peaceful attention, whether she understands and grasps the meahing 313 COMMUNICATIONS. Reoieto for Religious of the wor'ds or not. o,. - .-. , . . ¯ ~ .The contemplati_ve:life should not be giamorized. This gives ¯ young people a mere admiration of it or a passing fervor at learning of its grandeur, which is not a vocation, Only too o, ften postulants applying have a mistaken idea of the contemplative life. picturing it as a quiet restful going to prayer and enjoying its peaceful hours.with little else to do. This is not what the contemplative life demands. It is a life of prayer indeed, but.united with the self-effacement and self-abnegation necessary to bring the soul to a detachment from ~elf and self-love, which alone can lead to higher union of the'soul With God. This is not a pleasant process if it is to lead to solid growth in holi- ¯ ness. It is not what enriches us but what effaces us that leads to union with God. But,'neither should we suppose that the, way is all darkness and strewn with thorns. The soul also comes to stretches of light and joy when she stands very.close to the Divinity to which she is wedded. Our Lord is ever a loving Spou.se who will not be outdone in generosity. Much more can be s~iid on the.subject, but I wrote this much be-cause I felt an explanatign was due since ,you .repeated the statement in the REVIEW which was made on the floor at the,Congress, and I feel it has given an incorrect impression. There isAlready a great deal written about the contemplative life Which should be reviewed or corrected. The trouble is few contemplatives write,and what is writ-ten is too often merely theoretical by those who have not lived the enclosed contemplative life. SISTER M. IMMACULATA, P.C. (Abbess) SETS OF BACK NUMBERS AVAILABLE To :meet the numerous requests for back numbers the following ligt has .been prepared. It contains the number of complete sets available.for the different years, together with the prices. The price of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS was rai~ed to $3.00. in 1951. ' " Sets at $2.00 Sets at $3.00 1945 " 8sets 1951 . 17.0sets 1948 ., . 87sets 1952 . ~. 130~ets 1949 . . 115 sets ' 1'950. . . . 75 sets ~ ~" Please order from the. business. ot~ce: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 606 Harrison, Top~.ka, Karisas. 314 A =h onument: t:o Vincen!: Jerdme Breunig, TH]~ recent Uook, Saints for Now, edited by Clare Boothe Luce, has two articles on St. John of the Cross and none on St. Vin-cent de Paul. Yet Vincent de Paul is pre-emin, e.ntly a modern saint, a "saint for now." In Social Action (July, 1952, p. 135) J. Correia-Afonso writes.: "Vincent.de Paul is indeed a modern saint, not chronologically., but as one of the first of his contemporaries to understand the new times ushered in by the R~naissance, and to consider them with a just and sympathetic discrimination; one of the earliest too to observe and to seek a practical solution for the social questign, which in" its different aspects has beiome the problem of our own days." (Social.Action is a'periodical published monthly by the Indian Institute of Social Order, St. Vincent St.,Poona 1, India.). The "omnipresence" of the Daughters of Charity; (more. than 40,000 strong) in the cities of the world, the numerous Vihcentian seminaries, the De Paul hospitals and schools, as well as the other congregations, associations, and works of charity that derive directly from or were inspired I~y St. Vincent may have rendered the saint too' obvious to be singled out. Recent tributes to the ~ipostle of charity are not wanting. The realistic'spiritual grandeur of the film, "Mon-sieur Vindent," is a notable instance. But the monument, "more lasting than bronze"is the fifteen-volume ~ork of Pierre Coste, C.M. This includes eight volumes o~ Correspondence, four of Con&fences; and a three-volume Life and Works of St. Vincent de Paul. The work is translated by'Joseph Leonard, C.M. The last seven volumes mentioned above were published, by the Newman Press during the present year. (See page 325 for prices, etc.) THE LIFE AND.WORKS OF ST. VINCENT DE PAUL Reviewing Pierre Coste's biography in the Month when the book first appeared in the early thir.ties, Archbishop Goodier "wrote: "He has already given.to us, ig eight volumes, the saint's correspondence; he has now published in three volumes more, ~ study of the saint and his l,i e which is not likely ever to be superseded,. It is a masterpiece of research, 6f eruditionSand in ~he full-length portrait of SL Vin-cent de Paul which it~ depicts; si~aringhim in nothing, "~s the saint himself would not want to be spared,_, it allows u's to watch this Very -315 ~" JEROME BREUNIG Re~'ie~ for Religious ¯ human being, if ever there.was one, grow¯ into one of the most glori-ous heroes this world has ever produced, the pride alike of man and of .the Church, one of those in whose canonization the veriest pagan must rejoice." , The biography can be divided into three sections that are not co-terminus with the three volumes. First is traced the early-life 6f the s~int.ahd the first beginnings of the associations he founded. Then, in turn; follc;ws a detailed study of the growth and expansion of each. The third section treats.of his work at the French court, his. efforts against Jansenism, and his care of'the Visitation" Order after the ~dea'th of St. Francis de Sales: gives summary studies of his sanc-tity, his daily order, and the like: and concludes with. an account of his d~ath, beatification, and canonization. The r~al drama and challenge of Vincent de Paul's long life (1581-1660) is h~ightened rather thin dimmed by the careful ex-cision of legends such as the story of his exchanging places with the galley slave. The meager record of the early years is sufficient to m- .dica~e the initial struggle of a gifted poor boy who had to "work his~ way thiough college" by teaching boys. Not in accord with the pre- ¯ scriptions of Trent, Vincent was ordaified at twenty years of age. Providence .afforded realistic post-ordinatio~ training. The youfig priest.was ~capttired by Moors and sold int6 slavery in'Tunis. It was almost tq¢o years before he escaped to France. ~ The. turning point from mediocre to high sanctity seems to have been Vincent's promis~ to consecrate the rest of hi~ life to theservice of the'poor. Shortly afterwards when the Master of'the Paris M~nt gave him a personal gift of 15,000 livres, the dedicated priest gave the entire sum to the Charity Hb~lSitai on the very next day. Whether.pastor of Clichy or Chatillons, chaplain t6"the De Gondi Family or to the Queen, Vincent de Paul fulfilled his promise to help the po.0r.Whenever he recognized a serious need., whether spiritual or material, he tried a realistic approach, often not particularly orig-inal, experimented, made recommendations, and finally outlined pro-cedure~ .that would meet the difficulty. The Congregation of t~e Mission "The establishment of the Congregation of the. Mission is the result of the sermon at Folleville:' it sprang from it as the tree does from the seed" (I, 70). This mission sermon givdn on the feast of the Conversion of St. P~ul ,and exhorting the. yillager.s to make a 316 November, 1952 MONUMENT TO M. VINCENT general confession, was so abundantl¢ blessed that it.clearly under-lined the need to provide for thousarids bf similar missions and a congregation¯ of priests specially dedicated'to g!ving them. Incompetence and worse among the clergy of France~was another problem Vincent helped solve. First he prov!ded retreats for priests and ordin~nds. Hd saw, however,¯that a more radical remedy Was needed. Adequate seminary training had to be provided. -The Con-gregation of the Mission undertook and is continuing these special-ized sacred works for th~ sa'nctification of the clergy. Relief for the poor began in the same simple.manner. "On a cei-taifi Sunday, 'just as I was vesting,to say Mass, a person came to tell me that, in an isolated house a quarter of.a league away. the whole family lay ill, so'that not a single ond of them could come to the as-sistance of the others, and they were in Such dire straits as cannot be ,,expressed. ,It moved me to the depths of my heart. I did not fail to speak feelingly about them during the sermon, and God, touching the, hearts of those who were listening, caused them all to be moved to compassion for the poor afflicted people. "After dinner, a meeting was held in/the house of a good lady in the town to see what help could 15e given and every single one of. those present was quite~prepared to go and see them. to console them ,by talking to them and'to help them to the best of their ability." (I, 82.) The care of this familj, led to the care of'.others. After three months experience St. Vindent formed" an association to be called the Confraternity, of Charity. Its members were to be known fis the Servant~ of the Poor or of Charity. "It was to have desus Christ as its patron and its rriotto was to be: Blessed are the merciful as my Father is merciful} or, Come, ye bles'sed of my Fat'tier and possess the Kingdom prepared fo? you from the beginning of th~ world, for I was hungry and ge gave me to eat, I was sick and you visitbd me; for what you have done to theleast of thesq, {you have done unto me.'" (I, 83.) The Daughters of Charity Again,,this' confraternity became the model for similar ones,¯, From them developed the group known as the .Ladies ofCharity" who gave generously of time and money to h~lp the .poor. As the work of these groups expanded, it .became¯ clear that a permanent group of Full time dedicated nurses and teachers was indispensable. With the help of, Louise de Marillac, a "Lady of Charity." Vincent ' 317 ,JEROME BREUNIG Reoiet~ for Religious de° Paul established the Daughters of Ch, arity. This new congregation marked a great innovation in the reli-gidus iife. "The Daughters of Charity wdre not, like the members of ¯ :other communities of women, confined to "their homes; they were perfectly free t6 walk about the streets, and this was even a duty in-~ asmuch as their functions called them to leave their houses and enter. those of the poor. 'Your monasteries,' St. Vincent said to them, 'are the houses of ~he sickf ybur cell, a hired room; your chapel, the " parish church; your cloister., the streets of the city; your enclosure, obedience; your grille, the fear of God; your veil, holy modesty!' " .(I, 345.) The. Vincentians (C.M.) and the. Datighters of Charity are the largest but not the.only religious families Vincent founded. He suC-ceeded St. Francis de Sales as d~rector of the Visitation Order an~ helped found the institutes of th~ Daughters of Providence, the Daughters of the Cross, and the Daughters of the Holy Family. These congregations helped car.ry on the ~far-flung spiritual and cor-poral works of.mercy that were first initiated by M. Vincent. The Fou'ndlings Artists like to depic~ St. Vincent trtidging through slum areas leading one child by the hand and carrying another. They are not, drawing ~maginary scenes. In a diary kept by one of the Sisters at La Couche we read:. "3anuary 22, M. Vincent a~rived about eleven o'clock at night;, he brought us two childrea; o_ne may be six days old, the other is older. The poor little things were crying. The Lady Superioress has handed them over to the nurses. ~ . . ~' "'February 7. It i~ very, cold. M. Vincent paid a visit to our community; this holy man is always on foot. The Superioress asked ¯ him to rest, but he hurried off at once (o his little childiefi. It is marvellous to listen to his beautiful words of kindness and consola- ¯ tion. These little creatures listen to him as to.a father. Oh! what does not this kind, good Monsieur Vincent deserve! ';I have seen his tears flow ~oday. One of our little ones died. 'It is an angel now,' he explaiiaed, 'but it is very ha~d not to see it any more.' " (II, 263- 4.) An appeal of Vincent to the Ladies of Charity is recorded: "And no~; Ladies, s.ympathy and charity induced you to ad.opt these poor little creatures as ~?our children; yo.u have been their mothers ac-cording to Divine Grace ever .since their mothers aceording to nature 318 Novemb~r~ 1952 MONUM.ENT TO I~I.VINCEN'~ abarid~ned them. Cease to be their mothe.rs and become their judges; theirlife and death, i~ in your h~nds; I am i~ow abo~t to collect yoflf votes: the time has come to pronounce-their sentence and to ascertain whe.ther~ you desire any longer to be merciful tO them. They will live, if you charitably take care of them, and on the other l~and, they will die and infallibly perishif you abandon therfii experience does.- not allow you to think otherwise." (II, 222.) Chaplain for the Galle~ts "Nothing could give a bettei picture of hell than the hulks.[of the galley slaves] at Marseilles," wrote a biographer (I, 117). Into these tombs for the living, .Vincent went as an angel and consoler. His own experience as. a prisoner and a slave helped him to use his positior~ as chaplain-general of the galleys, to which General De Gondl bad appointed him, to alleviate the conditions of'the convicts. At Vincent's bidding, the Bishop of Paris sent a pastoral letter asking alms to prepare better quarters for the prisoners. The sp!ritual .minis.try among tl~e prisoners was not neglected: sacraments were ad-ministered and missions were sometimes arranged for them. The apostle of charity ektended his care to .other. needy classes besides foundlings and .prisoners. The sick poor in the over-crowded hospitals, orphans, the insane, fallen woinen, he.lpless beg-gars, and others were to. share the warmth of his contagious charity. A separate. ~tory is the relief woik of Vincent, that almost beggared the Parisian benefactors, to assist the provinces of Lorraine, Picardy, Champagne, and L'Ile,-de-France when they were torn by maraud-ing armies in the wars of the Fronde. Saving assistance was also provided for the Irish refugees who fled to France" during Oliver Cromwell's ~eign of terror. Spiritual Works Among the reforms in the spiritual apostolate that Vincent helpedpromote was punctu, ring the pompous, empty eloquence that ¯ had. become quite widespread.' Sentences like the following were commonplace: "I am about to grasp the intoxicating chalice, replete ¯ with SO much excellence, to replenish .your hearts through the orifices of Yourears." "May the gentle zephyrs of the Holy Spirit. waft the, .'sails o'f my thoughts.over the sea of this great audience to lead and bring it safely to a fair haven." (II, 206). Vincent promoted sim-plicit~ y, in form and tone. "Motives, nature, and means, all set out simply and cl.early--sucb is Saint Vincent's 'little method!' " (I!, 319 JEROME BREUNIG " ReuietuforReligious 217).He had no use for bitter sarcasm. "Bitterness "has never served.any 6ther purpos'e'than to embitter" (II, 218). Of greater impoFtance was his clear.standagainst heresy. ".The Jansei~iSts have never forgiven Saint Vincent for the pr6minent pait which he played in ~ecuring-the condemnation of their' doctrines" (III, .180). Vincent's sound faith, arid Cath01ic sefise kept him clear of this heres@ that won so many of his coun,trymen. Mqre-. over, his influential position at the French court enabled himo.to help expose the false doctrine in his bwn .country. A loy.al son. df the Church, he was also instrumental in ¯h~lping bring the matter to Rome where the heresy Was oflicially condemned. THE CONFERENCES OF ST. VIN'CEN~ DE PAUL The multifarious good works of Vincent de Paul ¯might give the impression that he was merely a man of action. The Conferences, in four v01um~s, modify this impres.sion by revealing the inner.spir-ituality which was the mainspring of the exterior activity. Not having a" Wire-rec, ording machin'e or even the Gregg short-hand method, the first Daughters of Charity pieced together what they heard, sometimes with the help. of Monsieur' Vincent's memor-andum. Of all the conferences Vincent gave duriiag aperiod of about 25 years (1634:1660), only 120 have been preserved. The handwriting ot~St. Louise de Marillac is recognized in twenty of" th~ transcriptions. Fragmentary and occasional as they are, the con-., ferenCes reveal an. inspiring and unmistakably high spirituality. It must be remembdred that When these conferences were given the Sis-ters were simply an association of layw0men who did not live in" a convent but usually in hired rooms in the particular parish wheie they worked. " " The "'Method" in the Conferences.° An interesting and, perhaps in some meagure, imitable feature of Vincent de Paul's conferences was the method. The Sisters were not ~nly .informed.when the conference was to be held, but they were told .what the subject matter was to'be.° Besides, the~ were to be prepared to give their own thoughts and to iinswer questions on th~ subject. The first time the method was introdiaced iff recorded:. '"In the t~ompany. "Sir, disunion seems to me to be like a building that is falling ddwn~ . . . JERk)ME BREUNIG Revie~,'for Religious (~ Another Sister said : "'Union is an image of tb~ most ~Ble~sed' .~rihity which is made up 6f three dlvme Persons, United.:b.y love. I~ we are thoroughly well united; we shall all be ,of one will and in complete harmony. Disunion, on the contrary, gives us a picture of hell, where the dem~ns live in perpetual discord and hate." ,(I, 87- Thus'each of. the group added to the conferende. These "conver-sati0ns" ai ~iven in the' Con(erences may stem toopat and perhaps too:good to some modern readers. This mhybe due to the editing. The idea seems to be a sound ont. After hearing the members and answering any questions, Monsieur Vincent would give a fuller treat-ment of ttie subject. The conferences were not monologues an'd fulfill the real meaning of the word conference, a meeting of minds. Inspiring scenes such as the following happened more than once. "The Sister who spoke on the good use of admonitions added: 'Recently .I.was so proud that, when my attention was called to a fault by _one of my Sisters of whom I had asked charity, I manifested displeasure. I. very l~umbly'ask pardon for having done ~o and als6, Sister, I'ask.for yours, who p.e?formed this act of charity towa'rds me.' At these words, the other Sister knelt down and said: 'It is I, Sister, who ask your forgiveness. I did not admon'ish you as I should have done, foi there were others present.' " (I, xv.) The Co£tent "" P~re Coste summarizes the content of the conferences in his troduction to the work. ;'His addresses chiefly dealt withthe voca-tion of Daughters of Cha)ity; their functions; thepoor, the sick, the foundlings; their daily exercises: rising, prayer, their general and par-ticular rules; the Christian virtues and those ¯which .go to make up. the spirit of the Company: simplicity, charity, humility, mortifica-tion, loVe~of work; the" frequentation of the Sacraments; Confession and Communion. Scandal, temptations, envy, admonitions, and the Jubile~ were also subjects of excellent conferences. He devoted several conferences to the virtues of deceased Sisters, and Sisters who were sent to the. proviricds were not allowed to.depart~ithout a few words of advice. The elections of officials .was'~ilso an occasion for a biief address. The. choice of subject was dictated by circumstances~ the needs of the Company, and the suggestions of St. Louise de 322 . November, -1952 MON~IMENT TO M. VINCENT rillac." (I, xii.) , St. Vincent had much to say about prayer. "Pray'er is th~ soul of our souls--that is to say, that what the soul is to the body, prayer is to the soul . The soul without prayer isalmost like a body without a soul, in what concerns the service of God; .it is without feeling, movement,, and has only worldly and earthly de-sires. I may also add that prayer is like a mirror in which the soul ¯ can see all its stains and disfigurements; it notds what renders it dis-pleasing to God; it arranges itself sb that it may be conformable to Him in all things." (II, 49.) Very practically, Vincent associates success in prayeb with re-tiring on time, getting enough sleep, and mostly with prompt rising. "Risi,ng is the first act of fidelity we render to God:. ~. the rest of the day. is determined by rising in the morning. Befiev~ me, there is no us~ in fighting with your pillow; you are always bound to lose" (iI, 22). "If sleeping during prayer becomes a habit, then one should, in order to get rid of it, stand upright, kiss the floor, or renew one's attention from time to time because, if we do not remedy this bad habit, it will return daily. Ar.e you not aware that there is a devil whose business Jr'is to put people to sleep when the~ are at " Pra.ger?" (I, 29.) ¯ He also suggests the use of pictures of Our Lord and .the saints as a help durifig prayer. Spiritual reading as a help to prayer is highly commended. "You must never fail to find time to read a chapter'of some devout book; it is very .easy and most necessary, for, as in the morning you" speak to God when at prayer, so God speaks to you when you read. If you wish your prayer to be heard by God, listen to God when you read. Theie is no. les.s' happiness and profit in list~ning to God than there is in speaking to Him. Hence, I strongly recommend you not to fail to do so, as far as you can and, if possible, to spend a little time in prayer afterwards." (I, 105.) The most difficult mortification is proposed to the Sisters. "Mor-tification is. also necessary, Sisters, if you are to endure the little suf-ferings that are bound to crop up in the course of your' exercises, and. the complaint.s tba.t those poor people may make about you. When .~he gentlemen in charge of the wounded pay them a visit, they may perhaps hear complaints about you; the wounded may tell them that you have not looked after them, that you ldft them all alone from morning until go6dness knows what hour. Very well, Sisters, ~ll that must be endured without complaining; do not seek to justify 323 JEROME BREUNIG yourselves, oh! no, never!" (IIL~ 3.) "The last means of loving God continually, and for ever ismsuffefifi~:' ~o suffer sicknesses, if God sends them; to suffer calumny, if we are unjustly .attacked; to suffer interi.orly the trials God sends us to test our fidelity''~ (II, .105) A witness to much deterioration in religious life,-Vincent was opposed to the'~ very Shadow of la'~ity. "The third thing-which.- causes.us to lose the love of our "vocation is-~-I shall not say im-p6rity, 6h! no, never, b.y~G6d's grace h:is this sin, even been men-tioned-- but merely' a certain sort of unrestrain.ed liberty. On~ is quite, pleased to meet men; one. is not a bit disturbed at listening to them.; one replies to and.,.enters into conversation, with them, even with one's'confessors apart from confession; on'e passes th~ timd in .speaking of matter~ that are neither necessary nor urgent, but just tO keep up a conversatmn. (II, 89.) F rstDaugbter ot: Charity" Among the finest conferences are those which treat of. the lives the first members.' .Here is "an abbreviated account of the. "First ' Daughter.of Charity": "Margaret Nas'eau, of Suresnes, was the first Sister who had the happiness of pointing out the road to our other Sisters," both in the education of. young girls and in nursing the sick,° although she had no other ma~ter: or mistress but'God. She w~is a poor, uneducated cow-herd. Moved by a powerful inspiration from Heaven, the idea occu'rred to h'~r that she would instruct children and so she bought an alphabet but, as she cduld not go to school for in-struction, ~he went and._asked the parish priest or curate tJ3 tell her what were the first four letteks, of the, alphabet. On another occasion, she asked what¯were the next four, and so on for the rest. Afte/~, Wards, whilst she minde~l her cows, she studied her lesson . "She afterwards made up her ~mind to go from village to village instructing the young . It was xiery .remarkable that she und~rto01~ all this withotit money or any other help save that of Divine Provi-dence.': She often fasted for whole days, and dwelt in .places bf which nothing remained but the walls. The harddr she worked at t~eachiJ~g the children, the more th~ ~village folk laughed at and' calumniated her. Her zeal gre~w more ardent . She provided for the education of some young men who had not the means of doing so . These ybung men are now good priests. Finally, when she learned" that there was a Confraternity of Charit~y'ifl Paris for the sick poor, she went- there moved by a desire 324 November, 1952 BOOK REVIEWS to be employed in this work, and although, she ~reatly desired to cc;ntinue instructing the young, nevertheless she laid aside this char-itable. work to take'up that of nursing the sick poor, which she be-lieved to be more perfect and charitable. This was, indeed, the will of. God, for He intended her to be the first Daughter of Charity and servant of the sick poor in the city of Paris. She attracted .to the work other gikls whom she ha'd helped to detach from all earthly vanities and to embrace a devout life. " . She Was most patient and never complained. Everybody loved be~ because ther.el was nothing' in her that was not lovable. Her charity was ~o great that she died from sharing her bed with a poor plague-stricken girl.". (I, 71-3.) THE LIFE AND WORKS OF ST. VINCENT DE PAUL. By Pierre Coste, C.M. Translated by Joseph Leonard, C.M. Pages' in Volumes: I, xxiii -f- 608; II, xi-]- 500; III, xii -]- 563. Newman Press, Westmin-ster, Maryland, 19S2. Three-vohme set, $1S.00. .CONFERENCES OF ST. VINCENT DE PAUL TO THE SISTERS ,OF CHARITY. Edited by Pierre Coste, C.M. Translated by Joseph Leonard, C.M. P~acjes'in Volumes; I,xxii -1- 322; II, vi -~ 310; III, vl -f-, 317; IV, xi -b 340. Newman Press, Westminster, Maryland, 19S2. Four-volume set, $16.00. For comment on these volumes see the article, "A Monument to Monsieur Vincent," beginning on page 315. THE IGNATIAN WAY TO GOD. By Alexander Brou, S.J. Translated by William J. Young, S.J. Pp. xii-1- 156. The Bruce Publishing Com-pany, Milwaukee, 19S2. $3.7S. This'exposition of the spirituality of St. Ignatius was written by Father Brou mainly to disprove a charge that Ignatian spirituality is "rigid and excessively methodical." He begins his work with a briel/ study of St. Ignatius himself and his directives on' prayer to his young Society, and,goes on from there to show that the spirituality of St. Ignatius is in all essentials that of the Spiritual Exercises. The purpose of the latter is to prepare one to seek the will of God and, having~found it, to embrace it. And ¯prayer for St. Ignati6s has the. same end. Father Btou says: "Prayer, according to St. Ignatii~s, is. 325 BOOK REVIEWS~ ' . Revi~w'f~or Religious a'combination of personal activity and of surrender to the inspira-tionof God, of method and of liberty," all of Which points he provesfrom the-bobk of the Exercises. ~ "Intriguing chapters in the development are: "The Exercises and the Graces. of P'rayerl . Id'quod ; olo," in the' Spiritual Exercises:, "The Men"formed to great hdliness by the SpiritUal Exercises; and, finally, in an Appendix, "The Liturgical Life and'the Spirituality of St. Ignatius!' a refutation of the fancied opposition between Igna-tian Spirituality and the Litfirgical Movement. A shcond App~ndi~ contains the~ following." "A D.e.scription of the Spirituality of St.~ Ig-natius," "The Holy See and the Exercisesof St. Ignatius," "The Method of St. Ignatius j and those of Louis of Granada and of' St. Francis de Sales," which shows the striking similarity between ¯ them. Each chapter of this excellent treatment of Ignatian Spirituality is bulw~rkdd by abundant references to sources,, collected in a special section in,the back of the book so that anyone ~ho wishes to.inves-tigate the subject more.deeplyhas start'ing leads for doing so. ~ -~.' ~UBREY 3. REID, S.J. SAINT THERESE AND SUFFERING. By Abb& C~ombes. Translated from the French Edition by Msgr. P; E. Haileff. Pp. rift -k 130. P./.Kene-dy &iSo.ns, Ne~v York, 1951. $2.S0. '" '.'Shadow on the Earth" mea.nt human sufferings'in the'fine bo.ok of.the same title by Owen Francis .Dudley, And anyone .wh, o i~ s.uffering.or~ has suffered kno~3vs that suffering.i~ truly a heavy shadow coming betv~een God .and us and putting our faith in Him to. a.severe test. We think'somewhat as follows: "God is all powerful. and He:loves me: And my, needis ov.erwhelming. Why doesn't'He help me?" TO any and all .who are asking a question of this kind, we strongly recommend Saint Th3rb'se and Suffering by Abb~ Combes. The author undertakes to make known St. Th~r~se's attitude to-wards sufferin~ as revealed in her own words and acti.ons.' "Tl~e Carmelite Saint of Lisieux is shown to be a sufferer from her earliest days. From.her First Holy Communidn she begins to welcome ¯ suffering and even to'find mysterious happiness in it. From then on suffering meant to her the price, she had to ,pay, to love Our I~ord greatly and to win souls from hell for Him. ' . , But.finally Th~r~se-tells us that she;~ .no longer desires ~.uffe.rings,i 326 November;,.195?_ ¢, BOOK REVIEWS but ':'the perfect accomplishment of the will 6f God~in my so~l." However, the Will of God for her is further sufferings, .indeed her great~st cross of suffering, for from the beginning of April, 1896, tintil:her death on September 30, 1897, she endured almost without break or respite severe trials of her faith in God's Goodness, and in her belief in heaven: see~rfiingly all her prayers went unanswered and the ravages of the disease' which would bring about her death were causing her intense physical, pain. And so St. Th~r~se died, as did her Savior, on the cross--b~ut how quickly came the Shower of Roses which proved that Th~r~se was,"living h~r heaven in doing good on earth," as she had promised. ° Now what do. we learn from St. Th~r~se about suffering? One point we surely notice is thai suffering did not in any degree distort her character. Suffer greatly though she did, St. Th~r~se will always. be one of the most lovable, attractive, and "inspiring Of the saints. In her life We learn" again the old truth that suffering is often a most precious gift of God. It merits His love. It helps to save souls. It gives~im something very special for which He can reward "us in heaven. Then most important of all. for us, as for Th&~se, as even fo,r the Son of God Himself. the rock bottom reason for accepting suffer; ing and bearing it patiefitly is that'it is God's will for us. And this too is the very heart of Th&~se's "Little Wa~r to God" in all things to trust ourselves to God With complete confidence in His love for us.AUBREY ,J. REID, S.,J. 0 PROCEEDINGS OF .CONGRESS OF RELIGIOUS The proceedings of the Firs~ National CongreSS of Religious held at the Uni-versity of N6tre Dame, August~, 1952, are being published under the title. Relioidus, Community,Life in the United States, in two separate books, one for the men's ses-sion and "one for the Sisters' session. A cloth bound copy of- ehch book of approxi-mately 300 pages is being'sold for $2.50. If you ~,ish to participate in the lim-ited first, printing, which is promised before Christmas. order promptly from: ,~Th.e ¯ Paulist Press. 401 West 59th ,Street, NeW-York 19; New York. ! "327 BOOI~'NOTICE~ ReviOw [or.I~etiOious . ,- ",'- ' BOOK'N6TICES" Thd'Dominicafi Nuns of'Cdr-pus Christi Mbnast~ery, Menlo Park, . California deserve thanks for translating so competently the book" KINSHIPS by Reverend ~ntonin S~rti]langes, O.P. In it you will find 76 brief chapters well suited to" induce- deeper,~spiritual insight and enthusiasm. Several chapters, though their exact number varies, have been grouped beneath the following gefieral subjects: ~od's, Presence, His Providence, Union with God, Love for G0d,Lo;e for .Self, Lovd for Others, the Apostolate. Sometimes a single parggraph, occasion-a! ly¯ one brief sentence, will make you pause tb'pofider and to pray. (New York: McMullen Books Inc.,,195~. Pp. v + 234. $2.95.) BE YE ~RFECT by David L. Greenstock, ~s a treatment, both scientific and devotional, of Christian perfection and various aspects of it. Much is made, for instance, of th~ distinction between essen- Hal perfectiofi, that is, being in the state of grace, and accidental per: fection, ulterior degrees of grace and virtue. The former is possible to all and ought to Be attained by all; how much farther one~n~o depefids upo~ the particular providence, of God. Those wno'nave a fair knowledge of the spiritual life would not learn much by reading this work, and people who are looking for an inffoduction would' d0 well to seek it in other books. This one is confusing rather than informative, and it is more ap~ to leave one comforted and contented wlth'mediocrity in virtue than to stimulate one to great'efforts. (St. Louis;.B. Herder Book Co., ¯1.'952. Pp. 362. $5.00.) A capable author with an attractive subject should produce a ¯ g0°~l biography. This formula works effectively in Katherine Bur-ton's THE TABLE OF THE KING, the story of Emmelie. Tavernier Gan~elin, Foundress bf tl~e Sisters of Charity of Providence. The words that w~re later inscribed on the coat of arms of the first Provi-dence Asile, "The Charity of Christ urget,h us," were' almost miracu-lously operative in Emmeli~ from her ~arly childhood, whe~ she used to distribute alms for her mother. As a girl still in her teens, she had a room set apart in the house where she fed the poor at "the table of the King"mherself do!ng the cooking, serving, .and ~lish-washing. Th'rough sorrow over the successive loss of her husband andthree small children she learned fhe practical need of trust in DivineProvi-dence; and this¯ trust was deepened and broadened when the bare cup-board of her first Old Ladies' Home was repeatedly replenished in an unforeseen manner. It is not strange that God should choose such a 328 November, 1957. BOOK ANNoUNcEMENTS woman to found an ifistitute w_h.oie function is Charity and Whose principle of growth is unbounded trust in Providence. (New o~or, k: McMullen Books, Inc., 1952.) "Come North as ~oon as possible!" These were th'e words Bishop Midge to M6tber Xavier, foundress.of the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth. COME NORTH is the exciting story of Ann Ross of Methodisi~ Parentage--her father was a harsh, unforgiving Method-ist preacher who disowned th~ daughte~r after she ran away to the convent. Sister Julia Gilmore, S.C.L., is to be congratulated for the very readable account of the spiritual 'and spatial odyssey of the ~oundress of her own flourishing~'ongregation. There0is hardly a dull page in the entire book, from .the account of the birth of Ann Ross in 1813 to that graphic account of the '.'aged itinerant revival-jsti' who drove up to the St. Mary Female Institute near Leaven-worth, Kansas. All unknown to himself, this circuit rifler had come to the Academy founded by his own sister who many years ago had run away from home. to enter a convent.The book ends thus: "Two Sisters walked with him to the c~metery~where he saw the plain white marker that reads: Mother Xavier.Ross Died April 2, 1895 Aged 82 years." '(New York: McMullen Books, Inc., 1951. Pp. 310. $3.50.) , , ' o Book ANNOUNCEMENTS [For the most part, these notices are.purely descriptive, based on acursory exam-ination' of the books listed.] ¯ AMERICA PRESS, 70 E. 45th St., New York, 17, New York. The State and Religious Education. By Robert C. Hartnett, 'and Anthony T. Bouscaren. On recent SupremL, Court decisions, D~: Conant, and the California tax exemption case: Pamphlet, $.25. BRUCE .PUBLISHING CO., 400 Broadway, Milwaukee 1, Wisconsin. Life Begins With Eooe. By E.Boyd Barrett. "With a suc-cinctness that pierces: so.phisticotion and a depth of conviction that commands, the author summarizes this Imitation o: Christ for mod-erns: keep''your promises, keep your temper, keep oyour~mouth shut, keep you~r heart warm

Issue 9.2 of the Review for Religious, 1950. ; MARGH° 15, 1950 Diocesan or PonHfical ? 'Joseph F. Galle. 'Virtue of Faith . John M~hews Oh'Controversy . ~. Gera[~Kelly Works:of God Manifest . .Dominic Hughes (;)uesHons and Answers Book Reviews Communications Report to Rome VOLUME IX NUMBER 2 Ri::VII::W FOR RI:::LI IOUS VOLUME IX MARCH, 1950 NUMBER 2 CONTENTS DIOCESAN OR PONTIFICAL ?--Joseph F. Gallen, S.J . 57 THE VIRTUE OF FAITH IN THE SPIRITUAL LIFE-- John Matthews, S.J . 69 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 72 ON CONTROVERSY~ (An Editorial)--Gerald Kelly, S.J . 73 SEARCHLIGHTING ~URSELVES . 77 WORKS OF GOD MADE MANIFEST--Dominic Hughes, O.P. . 78 FATHER ELLARD'S REPLY . 91 COMMUNICATIONS . 95 SUMMER SESSION . 96 BOOK REVIEWS-- The Mother of the Savior and Our Interior Life; Ignatlan Methods of Prayer; Little Catechism of Prayer . ~ . 97 BOOK NOTICES . " . 100 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 101 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 7. Abandoned Wife Entering Religion . 104 8. Extending Postulancy, Novitiate, etc . 105 9. Postulancy outside Novitiate . 106 I0. Dowry When Transferring to Contemplative Order . 106 11. Sick Religious and Daily Communion . 107 12. Genuflections in,Chapel . 108 REPORT TO ROME . 108 THOUGHTS ON ST. JOSEPH . 112 IN MEMORIAM (Alf'red F. Schneider, S.J.) . 1 12 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March, 1950. Vol. IX, No. 2. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly. 8.J. Copyright, 1950, 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 wrltln9 to us, please cons,,It notice on Inside back cover. Diocesan or Pont:ific l? ¯Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. THE following pages constitute ~in effqrt to answer two practical canonical' questions: (1) should a diocesan congregation "Con-fine' itself to the diocese of origin? (2) should a' diocesa'n congregation become pontifical? These are very. important questions for many institutes. They are also questions to which angwers can. be given that are based solely on personal knowledge and espe'ciallT on personal preference. Such knowledge can be inadequate and the preference can be very subjective. Therefore, I l~ave tried to avoid mere.personal opinion and to base the answers primarily on the mind and 'v~ill of the Holy See and secondarily on the opinions that com-monly exist in the Church as found in approved authors. ~" I. DiSti~'~tion of Defi'nition between a Pontifical and a "" Diocesan Congregatiqn~ . . :,~., It is by no means unusual to encounter the mistaken opiniqfi.th, a~ a, diocesan religious institute is one that. is confined to a particul.ar. diocese and a pontifical institute one that has houses in seve.ral di0,- ceses. These false definitions are deafly excluded by canon 488, 3°: "'institute app~ou.ed bg the Hqlg See. (Religio iuris pontifical), ~every institute which has obtained from. the Apostolic S~e either ~p~r.o.-'.~ ba~ion'~o~'i.a.t, leas.t.the decree of commendation (decretur~,'l~udis)t;i Diocesan Institute, an institute erected by Ordinaries, which ~has ~not y~.t:.o."bthined this" decre~ ofcommendation.". Thu's the diStinCtiOn between a pontifical and a diocesan congregation has in itself nothing Whatever to do with territorial diffusion; it is based sblely on the p~es.ende or'absbnce of approval by the Holy See. We shall see tha~ a diocesan institute is also destined to spread to many dioceses, and d~ffu~ion~ to'. rrian~r diocese~ is only an ordinary, not ari absolfitel prerequisite for obtaifiing papal opproyal. In actual fact there are diocesan;. congregati6ns in the United 'States that haCce spread to several dioceses., It is equally true that some pontifical congregation~ in~thi~ c6dh~ry are confined to one diocese. ~All religious orders are pontifical institutes, since the approbation of 'an order is reserved to the Ho!y See. Ther?fore, institutes such as those of the Carmelite Nuns, Dominican Nuns, Poor Clares, Sacra-mentirie'Nuns, and Visithndines are pontifical. A religi0ds order is 57 JOSEPH F. GA'LLEN Review for Religious ¯ an institute whose particular law pr~scribes that at least some of the subjects at least should take solemn vows (can. 488, 2°). The hope of clarifying this o'ften misunderstood definitio'n is the justificat.for the tautology. It is not required that all of the members of the institute, but it is s~f~cient that only some of these, should either actually take solemn vows or be obliged to do so by the law of the institute. An institute can also be an order even if none of the mem-bers actually take solemn vows. It is sufficient that some should do so from the particular law of the institute.1 Solemn vows are not taken in mo~t of the monasteries of nuns in the United States, yet all of these institutes are orders since at least some of the members should take solemn vows in virtue of the particular law of the institute.2 A religious congregation is an institute in which all the members actually take simple vows, whether perpetual or temporary, and in which none of the members should take solemn vows in virtue of the law of the institute (canon 488, 2°). No religious institute can exist in the Church that has not been approved by legitimate ecclesi-astical authority. The foundation of a religious institute may certai.nly be approved by the Roman Pontiff, but in practice it is approved by the ordinary of the diocese of foundation. This approval of the local ordinary makes the congregation a diocesan institute. ~For example, article 37 of the Constitutions of the Ursuline Nuns of the Congre-gation of Paris, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. reads as follows: "By tight, these vows are solemn vows, as they were so approved by holy Church at the beginning: but, in fact, in this country, by disposition of the Holy See, they are only simple vows." Article 641 of the Constitutions of Dominican Nuns reads: "Those Nuns of our Order whose vows are, by constitution, solemn but who because of circumstances of time (cgn. 488, 70), by prescription of the Apostolic See, make only. simple VOWS . " -°In 1864 the Holy See declared the following monasteries of Visitation Nuns in the United States had solemn vows: Washington, (Georgetown), Baltimore (Roland Park), Mobile, St. Louis, and Kaskaskia. The last-mentioned later united with its daughter community in St. Louis. Mo. Since 1864 the monasteries that follow have received a rescript from the Holy See granting solemn vows. The year of the rescript is put in parentheses. Carmelite Nuns of the Ancient Observance: Allentown (1931): Discalced Carmelite Nuns: Philadelphia (1902, but solemn vows were first taken in 1925), Wheeling (1925), Bettendorf (1949), Louisville (1930), Morristown (1926), Loretto (1932), Rochester (1930), Mobile (1943), New Brunswick (1948): Dominican Nuns: Detroit (1929, Menlo Park (1929), West Springfield, Mass, (1928): Dominican Nuns of the Perpetual Rosary: Buffalo (1944), Camden (1947), Syracuse (1947): Poor Clare Nuns: Cleveland (1946); Franciscan Nuns of the Most Blessed Sacrament: Cleveland (1912), Canton (1925, but solemn vows were first taken in 1950): Nuns of Perpetual Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament (Spanish speaking) : E1 Paso (1930) : Visita-tion Nuns: Elfindale, Springfield, Mo. (1888). Solemn vows are taken in the Oriental Order of St. Basil the Great. Four other monasteries have applied for solemn vows¯ 58 March, 1950 DIOCESAN OR DONTIFICAL? After an initial period of growth the congregation usually peti-tidns the Holy See for papal approval. The attainment of papal approval makes the congregation a pontifical institute. It is sufficient that the Holy See approve either the institute or the constitutions. The present ordinary practice of the Holy See is to approve both. In answer to the first petition of the congregation for papal approval, the Holy See gives its first approval to the" institute by what is called a decree of praise or commendation. At the same time the Holy See gives a temporary and experimental approval to the.constitutions for a determined period of time, which now is usually seven years. At the end of this time the congregation sends another petition to Rome. The Holy See then gives a final approbation to the constitutions and, frequently at least, a definitive approbation to the institute.3 The practice of the Holy See can vary in many matters, and it has varied in the present case of the approval of religious congrega-tions. It is possible to find congregations that have long possessed papal approval and yet discern that the constitutions alone were approved by the Holy See. A doubt could and did arise as to the sufficiency of an approval of the constitutions alone, since the Code definition of a pontifical institute appears to be confined to a decree of~ praise or approbation of the institute. However, the presumption always is that a canon agrees with the pre-'Code law, and Leo XIII had originally defined pontifical institutes as those "in which in addi-tion the sentence of the Roman Pontiff has intervened, either by approval of their laws and statutes or also by the granting of praise or approbation.TM In this definition the approval of the constitu-tions is not only sufficient but apparently primary. All doubt was removed by a reply of the Sacred Congregation of Religious that the Sisters of Mercy, founded by Mother McAuley, were pontifical, whether it was a question of the independent communities or of the unions that had been established with the approval of the Holy See.5 3For the present practice of the Holy See, cf. P. Cosmas Sartori, O.F.M., duris-prudentiae Ecclesiasticae Elernenta (Romae: Pontif. Athenaeum Antonianum, 1946)~ p. 74. 4Leo XIII, Const. "'Conditae a Christo,'" 8 dec. 1900, Codicis luris Canonici Fontes III. p. 562. The same definition is repeated twice in the constitution. Cf., pp. 563, 564. nThis particular reply of Nov. 24, 1925, undoubtedly because of its general import, was published in the Acta Apostolicae Sedis, XVIII (1926), 14. It can be found in English in Bouscaren, Canon Law Digest, I, pp. 269-270. Valuable commen-taries on the reply have been written by. Maroto, Cornrnentariurn Pro Religiosis, VII (1926), 83-92: and Vermeersch, Periodica, XV (1927), 52-53. To any-one unaware of this reply the distinctive constitutions of the independent com-munities can' cause difficulty as to their pontifical character. 59 .JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review foF Religious The constitutions alone of the Sisters of Mercy were approved by the Holy See in 1841. The same thing is apt to be true of any.congrer gation of religious women approved before 1850, because of the varying practice of the Holy See in approving religious congregations. Therefore, a congregation is made pontifical by any one or m6re of the following.four approvals: approval of the institute by either a decree of praise or of definitive approbation; approval of the con-stitutions either experimentally or finally. To all congregations that have received any one of these approvals are equally applied" the rights, laws, and obligations of pontifical institutes. II. Should a Diocesan Congregation Confine Itself to the Diocese of Origin? 1. The Code of Cation Lau;.--Canon 495, § 1 reads: "A dioce-san religious congregation cannot establish houses in another diocese without the consent of both Ordinaries, namely: the Ordinary of the place where the motherhouse is situated and the Ordinary of' the place where it is desired to make the new foundation, but the Ordi- .nary of the place of delSarture, shall not without a grave reason refuse his, consent." For the first house to be erected by a dlocesan.institt~te in anothe~ diocese, this canon requires the permission not only of the ordinary of~the new house but also of the ordinary of the mother-house. We can s.ee in this law of the Code an implicit affirmation of the closer guardianship, of the greater interest, supervision, and direc-tion that the ordinary of the diocese of origin is to exercise over a diocesan congregation in the early years of its existence. The same canon explicitly forbids the ordinary of the mother? house to refuse permission for the erection of a house in another diocese unless he has not merely a. reasonable or a just reason but a serious reason for the refusal. The .Code of Canon Law, therefore, implicitly states that it is the or~linary thing for a diocesan institute to spr,ead to other dioceses and that this diffusion can be prevented only by reason of a serious obstacle. It cannot be held that thi~ seri-ous obstacle is ordinarily tO be fouiad in diocesan institutes.' If this-were factually tr.ue, there would be little sense in the law of the Code that forbids the ordinary'of the motherhouse to refuse the permissi?n, and the law would rather read: "and the Ordinary of the mother~ house may grant this permission in extraordinary cases.',Y Therefore, the" law 'of the Code is that confinement to one" dioces~ sli'~.uld ble restricted to the early years of the existence-of.a, diocesan dongrega:- fi0n wl~en the institute is a.c.qujri, ng strength rand:.sta,,~:ilit.~.: .~T.h.!.s. 60 March, 1950" DIOCESAN OR PONTIFICAL? period should not be excessively prolonged. Diffusion to other dioceses is a usual prerequisite for obtaining papal approval, but the Holy See stated before the Code of Canon Law that ten or fifteen years from the time of the foun'dation of the first house of theinsti-tute could suffice for the presentation of a petition for papal approval.6 2. Documents of the Holy See.--The Holy See both before and after the Code of Canon Law has issued norms that are to guide the local ordinaries in the erection of new institutes. One of the most important of these norms is that the ordinary, rather than found a n~w congregation, is to invite and admit into his diocese a congrega-tion already approved that has the purpose desired by the ordinary. In speaking of these congregations already approved the Holy See makes no distinction between pontifical and diocesan congregations.) Therefore, the Holy See again positively implies that diocesan insti-tutes are not to be confined to the diocese of origin. 3. Doctrine of authors.--Two authors, Fogliassos and Muzza-relli, 9 have recently made detailed studies into the juridical nature of diocesan congregations. Fogliasso states: "Certainly a diocesan con-gregation, even though it consists of only one house, unlike a mon-astery of nuns, is an organism that bg its verst nature tends to uni-versality . The purpose of the disposition of canon 495, § 1 is to prevent the local ordinary of the motherhouse from impeding the ordered diffusion of a new congregation. This diffusion together with spiritual fruits is required for the granting of a decree of praise. Furthermore, recourse can always be made to the Holy See against the arbitrary opposition of this ordinary. Therefore, the norm of canon 495, § I, while it immediately, furthers the fundamental liberty of a new congregation, which is the attainment of its own increase, paves the way for the congregation to reach the prescribed condition by which, through means of a decree of praise, it may take its place 6Normae Secundum Quas 8. Congr. Episcoporum et Regulariura Procedere Sofet in Approbandis Novis lnstitutis Votorurn Simpliciurn, 28 iun. 1901, n. 9. ~Leo XII][, Const. "'Conditae a Christo,'" § 1, III, C. I. C. Fontes, III, p. 563; Pius X, Motu Propr. "Dei providentis,'" 15 iul. 1906, C. I. C. Fontes, III, p. 675; S. C. de Prop. Fide, Instr., "'De Congregationibus Religiosis lndigenis Condendis,'° 19 mart. 1937, n. 1, AAS XXIX (1937), 276. SAemilius Fogliasso, S.D.B., lntroductio in Vigentem Disciplinara de luridicis Re-lationibus inter Religiones et Ordinarium Loci (Augustae Taur[norum: Schola T}'pographica Salesiana, 1948). 9Fridericus MuzzareIli, S.S.P., Tractatus Canonicus de Congregationibus luris Di-oecesani (Romae: apud Piam Societatem a S. Pau[o Aposto[o, 1943). 61 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious among pontifical institutes.''~° Muzzarelli expresses the same doctrine: "The nature of a diocesan congregation precisely as diocesan is universal only in potency and capacity . . . indeed the mind of "the Holy See with regard to these congregations is not that from their foundation they should be aSso-lutely confined within the boundaries of one diocese. They are rather considered as the first stage, the first phase of juridical et~olution. When this evolution is completed they become pontifical and uni-versal in fact and in law . Hence it generally happens that these congregations become multidiocesan in a short time and l~hus are uni-versal in fact . If the ordinary (of the motherhouse) should refuse his consent, recourse is always open to the Holy See.''11 Father Vidal, S.J., whose eminence as a canonist and years of service as a consultor of various Roman Congregations should qualify him to know the mind and prac.tice of the Holy See, affirms: ". the ordinary of the place of dephrture is forbidden to refuse his " consent except for a serious reason (canon 495, § 1) ; and recourse against an unreasonable refusal would always be open to the Sacred Congregation, which will usually lend a ready ear to such a recourse, unless there is question of an institute that is faring badly and is destined rather for extinction.''x~ The doctrine that a diocesan institute should at least ordinarily spread to other dioceses is held implicitly by many of the authors mentioned below, who teach that diocesan congregations should ¯ become pontifical, since diffusion to other dioceses is in the practice of the Holy See an ordinary prerequisite for obtaining papal approval. 4. Diffusion does not imply separation.--Diffusion to other dioceses is the second phase of the natural growth of a diocesan con-gregation to the juridical maturity of a pontifical congregation. Evidently diffusion does not impiy but excludes separation from the houses of the diocese of origin. Canon 495, § 1 is speaking of the spread of the same institute to other dioceses, not of the erection of. new institutes in other dioceses. The fear of separation, however, can exist. The diffusion of diocesan and even of pontifical congrega-tions to other dioceses of the United States in the last century very frequently was followed by a separation from the houses of the diocese of origin (and the same thing occurred in other countries). ~-0Fogliasso, op. cir., 160-161. The italics in this and subsequent citations are mine. XlMuzzarelli, op. cir., nn. 51, 123. xZWernz-Vidal, Ius Canonicum, III, "De Religiosis,'" n. 61. 62 March, 1950 DIOCESAN OR PONTIFICAL Fortunately, many of these separated congregations have ultimately at least prospered in vocations and in the extent and excellence of their lives and work. These happy consequences have not always been verified. Some of these congregations are still small in number of subjects, and they toil in vain for increase in the rocky territories of few Catholics and few vocations. It would obviously .have been much better if they had remained.united to houses located in dioceses that are more fertile in vocations and also financially. Furthermore, such separations were not of their nature conducive to a progressive improvement in the spiritual and intellectual formation of subjects. These separations may not be effected now without the permission of the Holy See, since the separation would involve at least the erec-tion of a new institute and also the passing of professed religious from one institute to another, both of which require recourse to the Holy See (canons 492, § 1; 632). III. Should a Diocesan Congregation become Pontifical? 1. The Code of Canon Latv.--To Father Arcadio Larra-ona, C.M.F., the present undersecretary of the Sacred Congregation of Religious, we are especially indebted for evolving the answer from the Code of Canon Law. Father Larraona calls attention to the definition in the Code of a diocesan congregation, which is not described as one that has been approved by a local ordinary or as one that does not possess or has not obtained a decree of commendation but as one, "that has not yet (nondum) obtained this decree of com-mendation (canon 488, 3°).'' Thus the very definition of a dioce-san congregation in the Code of Canon Law manifests that it is only in an initial and transitory state and in the first phase of a juridical evolution that is to terminate in the attainment of pontifical approval,la Larraona could have derived the same conclusion from canon 492, § 2. The argument is clearer in the translation of Woywood- Smith, although it can also be d~duced from the Vatican translation. This canon reads: "A diocesan congregation retains that character though it has in the course of time spread to several dioceses, and it remains completely under the jurisdiction of the bishops, until it has obtained from the Holy See approval or, at least, the decree of praise." The Vatican translation of this last and pertinent clause is: "as long as it is without pontifical approval or the decree of commendation." The Code here again does not consider a diocesan congregation to be laLarraona, Cornmentarium Pro Religiosis, II (192 I), 284. 63 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious . in a definitive but only in an initial and temporary state. 2. The initiative of bishops.--The most°manifest testimony of the i.nspiration, encouragement, and support of bishops to diocesan congregations becoming pontifical is the vast number of congr.egations that ha~e been approved by the Holy See. This support of bishops wa~ evident at an early date in the era of pontifical approval of congregations of Sisters. The Provinci.al Council of Avignon, held in 1849, enacted the following norm for the bishops of the province: "That [Sisters] may conform their lives to that prescribed by the rule they have professed and observe their constitutions and praiseworthy customs, that the constitutions also may have a greater authority, the bishops are to take care as' soon as possible that these be approved by the Holy See,. if they have not already been approved.''14 The bishops of the Plenary Council of Latin America, celebrated in 1899, established a similar law: "Since in congregations that have spread into several dioceses and whose constitutions have not as yet been submitted to the examination, correction, and approbation of the Holy See, here and there things have been done in good faith that are contrary to the laws and mind of the Hoist See, we decree that, the prescriptions of law being observed, such congregations which, in the judgment of the bishops, increase and give good expectations to the Church shall submit their statutes to the judgment of and petition the approval of the Holy See.''1~ 3. The doctrine of authors. Especially in this important ques-tion authors are cited primarily to manifest the mind and the will of the Holy See and also to give the answer that is generally held in the Church. Greater attention should clearly be given to the canonists who are acknowledged specialists in the field of canon law for religious. LARRAONA: This author has been engaged since 1920 in writing an exhaustive explanation of the canons on religious in the Cormnentariurn Pro Religiosis. The greatest tribute to his authority is the frequency and respect with which he is generally cited by other authors. Writing of pontifical and diocesan congregations before the Code of Canon Law, he states that diocesan congregations were not considered "as something fixed and stable but as incomplete entities, tending by their nature to juridical perfection, which in the second 14Concilium Provinciae Avenionensis, Collectio Lacensi#, tom. IV, col. 351, n. 2. l~Acta et Decreta Con¢ilii Plenarii Americae Latinae (Roinae: Typis Vaticanis, 1902), n. 324. 64 March, 1950 DIOCESAN OR PONTIFICAL? category, that is, in pontifical congregations, alone appeared to be found.''10 This same doctrine, although not with the same urgency, he later applies to diocesan congregations after the Code of Canon Law.17 He likewise affirms: ".-. the constitution of a di6cesan congregation is not very conducive to the internal unity, strength and liberty of diffusion of the institute. The result is that diocesan con-gregations have scarcely begun to evolve and to be diffused when they are borne along almost by their own weight to become pontifical, which corresponds completely to the mind of the Holy See.''~s He styles the diocesan state of a congregation as the novitiate of the insti-tute and says of this novitiate: ". the Sacred Congregation has tended and now tends to surround this [diocesan state] with suffi-cient protection and to affirm it as transitory by representing this state to the eyes of both the bishops and the congregation as a period of probation, which should not be prolonged longer than is necessary to test the spirit and stability of the.congregation and for it to obtain some diffusion. When this test has been surpassed, it is undoubtedly the mind of the Hol~l See that a decree of commendation should be requested.''1° He continues: "Unless congregations become pontifical when they reach the above maturity, experience certainly proves that they can scarcely preserve their unity of spirit, of ministries, and of government. Consequently the.i.r internal force and solidity is almost necessarily exposed to positive dangers, or at least the congre-gation is uselessly hindered and its tendency for diffusion and expan-sion impeded.''u° In another work he reaffirms the same principle: "From the nature of the case a unity of government is scarcely pos-sible if the government itself is practically divided into as many parts as there are dioceses in which the institute has houses.''~ Other passages could be cited from this outstanding author to confirm the doctrine he states above that the diocesan state of a congregation is of its very nature transitory and the mind of the Holy See is that such congregations should seek papal approval after the initial period of probation and diffusion. 16Larraona, 17Larraona, lSLarraona, 10Larraona, 20Larraona, Commentariura Pro Religiosis, I (1920), 137. ibid., II (1921)', 284. ibid., II (1921), 284. ibid., V (1924), 146. ibid., V (1924), 146. ~aLarraona, Acta Congressus luridici Internationalis, IV, "'De Potestate Dorainativa Publica in lure Canon&o," p. 153, nota 17. JOSEPH F: GALLEN Reoieto [or Religious FOGLIASSO22 and. MUZZARELLIz~ accept and assert the doc-trine of Larraona, but the latter adds: ". especially when a con-gregation has spread to distant territories a practical necessity exists of asking for a decree of praise and approval of the con'stitutions from the Holy See, if one wishes to provide for the security, unity, and becoming expansion of the entire institute.''24 BASTIEN, who is a most eminent authority on the canon law for institutes of simple vows, states in the editions of his book pub-lished both before and after the Code of Canon Law: "The condi-tion of a diocesan congregation, as described in the preceding pages, is rather precarious; spread in different dioceses, they are dependent upon various bishops, without a sufficiently strong central authority. No wonder, then, that the. Holg See desires them to leave this initial stage, and exhorts them to present their constitutions [or its ap-proval."~ 5 BATTANDIER, who is of equal authority on institutes of simple vows, states in the same editions of his hook: "But the,dioce-san institute can naturally have the desire to attach itself more closely to the Apostolic See, which will give more authority to its govern-ment, more stability to its laws, and will permit it to be assured of the future.''~° Among the authors who have expressed their opinion less strongly are the following: CREUSEN-ELLIS: "When the new institute shall have devel-oped sufficiently and shall have shown by the test of time the value of its religious spirit and its unity, it may ask of the Holy See a posi-tive approbation.''27 "The Code does not provide for the erection of provinces in an institute which is purely diocesan. When it has arrived at this importance, it should ask for approbation from Rome, which will make its life and its government more autonomous.''2s 22Fogliasso, op. cir., 160-161. Z3Muzzarelli, op. cit., nn. 51, 102. ~4Muzzarelli, op. cir., n. 102. ~SDom Pierre Bastien, O.S.B., Directoire Canonique a l'usage des Congrdgations ~ Voeux Simples (lst edit., 1904, Abbaye de Maredsous), n. 22; (4th edit., 1933. Bruges: Ch. Beyaert), n. 70. The translation is that of D. I. Lanslots, O.S.B., Handbook of Canon Law (New York: Pustet, 1931), n. 19. Lanslot's d!gest is based on Bastien. ~OMgr. Albert Battandier, Guide Canonique Pour Les Constitutions des Instituts Voeux Simples (Paris: Librairie Victor Lecoffre), 4th edit., 1908, n. 19; 6th edit., 1923, n. 20. :tTCreusen-Ellis, Religious Men and Women in the Code (Milwaukee: The .Bruce Publishing Company, 3rd English edition, 1940), n. 27. ~SCreusen-Ellis. ibid., n. 30. 66 March, 19 5 0 DIOCESAN OR PONTIFICAL? BOUSCAREN-ELLIS: "'It is the mind ot: the Church that after a diocesan congregation has developed its membership and spread to other dioceses, and has given satisfaction in its pursuit of good works, it may apply to the Holy See for pontifical approbation and thus become a po.ntifical institute.''2~ REGATILLO: "Diocesan congregations are not accustomed to be divided into provinces because when they are sufficiently diffused they become pontifical.''~° RAMSTEIN: "Since every religion of diocesan law normally entertains the hope of acquiring in time the status of a religion of papal approval . JOMBART: "A congregation spread into several dioceses and flourishing generally desires to become pontifical.''z2 "A multidioce-san and large congregation desires almost always to become pon-tifical, the better to safeguard its unity.''3~ Doctorate dissertations in canon law of the Catholic University of America have expressed similar opinions: ORTH: "The great difference that exists between episcopal and papal approbation is well known and, since the papal dxcels the epis-copal in extent, being wider and greater in effects and giving assur-ance of an unerring guidance, it is not in the least surprising that from the start, a new religious congregation will have this in view, to obtain a favorable decision'concerning itself from the Holy See. In its early stages a new community is still in an imperfect condition. Though entirely an autonomous society, yet it is subject to many restrictions on the part of the bishop. Besides formerly if it should chance to spread into other dioceses many things militated~ against unity which is a prime requisite in order that the institute preserve its original nature and purpose. In this respect nowadays it is welI pro-tected by the Code. The aim of the new society will be to have firmness and stability, to be enriched with all the privileges and favors of Mother Church, which aim will not be fully obtained unless it has received the seal of definite approbation from the Head of all christendom.''34 "The spread to other dioceses is considered ~t0Bouscaren-Ellis, Canon Law (Milwaukee: The Bruce Publishing Company, 1946), p. 234. Z0Regatillo, lnstitutiones luris Canonici (Santander: Sal Terrae, 1946), I, n. 650. 81Ramstein, A Manual of Canon Law (Hoboken: Terminal Printing ~ Publishing Co., 1947), p. 299. a22ombart, Traitd de Droit Canonique (Paris: Letouzey et Ane, 1946) I, n. 810, 2. 33Jombarr, ibid. 8'~C. R. Orth, O.M.C., The Approbation of Religious Institutes (Washington: The Catholic University of America, 193.1), p. 131. 67 JOSEPH 1::. GALLEN the best reason for asking the approbation of the Holy See, because in that case there would be as many heads as there are bishops of the places where the community is established and this multiplied gov-ernment is not conducive to unity.''s5 FARRELL: "When a congregation has received pontifical appro-bation many phases of its subjection are withdrawn from the local Ordinaries in whose territory the congregation exists, and this juris-diction is supplanted by direct subjection to the Holy See. Thus, unfettered by the divergencies of the multiplicity of diocesan juris-dictions, the congregation achieves an extensive opportunity to exer-cise in a wider way the autonomy of moral personality, affording a unity of purpose through the various ramifications of its internal government to accomplish more effectively the work and purpose of its foundation.''s° IV. Conclusion The reader is now in a position to give his own answers to the questions of this article. These answers should be based primarily on the mind and will of the Holy See and on the common opinion in the Church. If the will of the Holy See is evident with regard to any action, arguments in favor of or contrary to that action are simply a matter of indifference. The intrinsic arguments for seeking papal approval emphasized by the authors cited above are: (1) the government and the constitu-tions of the institute receive a greater authority; (2-) the central and internal government becomes stronger; (3) the unity of govern-ment, spirit, and ministries of the institute is preserved;. (4) the in-stitute is endowed with a greater stability and is thus better able to preserve its original nature-and accomplish its original purpose: (5) the life and government of the institute become more autono-mous; (6) the institute has a greater liberty of diffusion and thus of increase. To these can be added (7) the more autonomous character of the institute naturally begets a greater internal initiative; (8) the immediate subjection to the Head of all Christendom and the wider diffusion of the institute are more apt to engender the universal view-point of the Holy See; (9) the constitutions approved by the Holy See and examined and corrected by specialists will very likely possess a greater excellence and utility. s~Orth, ibid., p. 145. SOB. F. Farrell, The Rights and Duties of the Local Ordinary Regarding Congrega-tions, o[ Women Religious o[ Pontifical Approval (Washington: The Catholic Uni-versity of America Press, 194~1), p. 56. 68 The Vir :ue of F:ait:h in :he Spiri :ual Life ~lohn Matthews, S.~I. BY ITS BAPTISMAL BIRTH man's soul receives divine life for the first time. It takes on a wholly, new and higher life. A second life comes into the soul and into its powers of mind and will. While sanctifying grace lifts the soul to a divine way of life, the virtues of faith, hope, and charity fill man's mind and will with the strength he needs to live his higher life. Thus grace thrbugh faith, hope, and charity makes us new men with new minds and wills. But what is faith? Life means power; faith is a God-given power of our grace-life. Life means lasting power; on this earth the holy person always possesses faith. This faith is a virtue, a power to take God at His word. By faith in action we believe God just because it is God who has spoken. In faith we bend our minds to the authority of God, of God's Son 3esus Christ and of God's Church. Man has a duty of bowing his whole self before God; through faith be subjects his mind to God. Thus faith is belief in God because He knows and tells the truth; those who enjoy such faith we call the faithful. In our Christian life this virtue is absolutely necessary. ~¢ usually comes through baptism and is lost only by mortal sins against faith such as heresy and apostasy. So the grown-up without faith lives in serious sin and has turned himself away from both God and heaven. "But without faith it is impossible to please God" (Heb. 11:6)--in the way God wants to be pleased, honored, adored, loved and obeyed, i.e., in the supernatural way of life. Again, we need faith because it enters into every deed of our grace-life. In all these works faith is at least implicit. Lastly, as souls born of God, we must have faith. For, as the child must be able to take his parents at their word, so we must be able to believe our heavenly Father: and we do this by faith~ "For you are a11 the children of God by faith" (Gal, 3:26). This important virtue of which we speak is a supernatural gift. It forms part of the equipment by which holy souls live and grow in the divine life. With this faith we know truths man could never know of himself. All the genius of Aristotle, Shakespeare, and 69 JOHN MATTHEWS Review [orReligious Edison could never figure them out; all the power of all men's minds could, never guess them. For by faith we know divine truths in a divine way. We see with certainty what God has told men through Christ and the, Church;; we take a .deeper look into God's teachings; we view everything with a sight and understanding far beyond the human. Through faith, furthermore, we possess the mind of Christ. "But we have the mind of Christ" (1 Cot. 2 : 16). This is the new mind we receive along with the new life of grace. No longer do we think and plan in a merely human{ way but we think as Christ did, we plan as Christ planned, we value what Christ valued. We think holy thoughts; we know the truths Christ knew and chose to tell us; we accept His judgments and values on everything, e.g., on the world, on race and color, on the human soul. With the new mind of faith the supernatural man looks on all things in their relation to God and to his own salvation. This is faith at work--a living active fruitful faith: The virtue of faith, while itself interior, produces acts of faith both interior and exterior. Indeed, the faith of God's children must be a working faith. Such is the message of St. James in his Epistle. "For even as the body without the spirit is dead, so also faith without works is dead" (James 2:26). Possessing the mind of Christ, we must use that mind to live our divine life. For faith is the rock-foundation of our morals, our devotions, and our liturgy. Hence our holy deeds must be rooted in and must spring from faith in action. The "man of God must live by faith, and this he does when he bows his mind to divine truth on God's authority and when he guides his actions by that truth. Faith guides our actions by entering into there. It underlies and penetrates all our virtuous acts. The Catholic can hope for heaven only after faith tells him heaven exists. The faithful obey Christ's Church because faith assures them it is the true. church. Penitents by approaching the confessional bear witness to their faith that God's priest has power to forgive sins. In his belief that bap-tism is necessary for salvation, the Catholic father bears his child to the font of eternal life. Confirmed in faith, God's children adore the Eucharistic Christ, receive Holy Communion, and offer the Holy Sacrifice. As another instance of how faith penetrates.our life of holiness, let us consider charity. This latter virtue shows .itself in many diverse acts (1 Cot. 13:~r-8). There is the love of God above all 70 March, 1950 VIRTUE OF FAITH else, which we must practice in order to continue living the divine life. There are the works ofmercy, compassion' for one's fellow men, perfect contrition, almsgiying, the love of our neighbor in Christ, th~ expending of self for God's sake and for others. The reason why holy souls do these charitable deeds is the love of God in Himself and of men in God. But this infinite lovableness of God they know through.faith, which teaches them that God deserves to receive our purest love. Thus faith enters into our works of charity by supplying a supernatural reason for doing them. So too in all the circumstances of life does faith play its divinely assigned part. The truths we believe have power to overcome our human fear, weakness, and distrust of seIf. How often Our Savior spoke these words: "thy faith hath made thee whole" (Matt. 9:29; 15:28; Luke 8:48; 17:19). In the face of temptation, sickness, evil habits, poverty, andpersecution our faith gives us grounds for confidence that we can overcome all hardships in a Christlike man-ner. "This is the victory which overcometh the world, our faith" (1 dohn 5:4). In. order to see further the force and value of Catholic belief in the soul, let us view two men-~one with and the other without faith. On the death of a relative the latter can give only human sympathy, cannot help the deceased, can only send flowers and'can-not comfort the bereaved very'greatly. The real Catholic through his faith speaks words of divine sympathy. He helps both his dead relative and bereaved kinsfolk--by his comforting words, by his prayers and Masses and virtuous deeds. The soul without faith grieves as those "who have no hope" (I Thess. 4:13); the faithful soul sees in death God's will, entertains the hope of eternal happi-ness for his dear deceased, and offers his pain at bereavement to help his relative into heaven. Again the work of faith appears when these same men yisit a Catholic church. To the faithless person the church is a structure--perhaps, a thing of beauty; to the faithful, it is a home, a holy place, the house of God. For the former the stained-glass windows may be works of art; for the Catholic they serve to recall the mysteries of his religion and to hold his mind in prayer. In the opinion of the man without faith the baptismal font, confes-sional, and altar rail are the ordinary furnishings of a church; the child of God esteems them as sources of divine life in his soul. To his mind the tabernacle is no mere happening but the abode of Christ in the Eucharist; the altar is no chance property but the place of daily sacrifice, the bne thing withoutt which no building can be a church: 71 JOHN MATTHEWS the sactuary lamp is not just an adornment but a sign to the faithful that Jesus is at home, waiting for their visit. In the Catholic church the person who has not faitl-J is a stranger and sight-seer, the man of faith is at home with Jesus in His Father's house. So vast is the difference between the person without faith and the man whose actions are wholly penetrated by tiis Catholic faith! Let us sum up now the work of faith in the divine life of our soul. The virtue of faith gives us a new mind, enlightened with the new truths of Our Lord's Testament. A grown-up receiving the virtue of faith, may seem the same after his conversion as before-- ¯ but he is not. He has new thoughts; he knows God's new com-mands; all events in his life take on a divine meaning for eternity: his belief gives a heavenly purpose to his actions: he will soon show by his outward deeds of virtue the inward change within his mind. "For with the heart we believe unto justice: but with the mouth confession is made unto salvation" (Rum. 10:10). Moreover, to live the life of grace we must 1ire a life of faith. This virtue must influence' a11 our actions. Hence our every deed must be an act "of faith, must bear witness that we choose~ to be amongst God's faithful, must be a profession of our belief. Our religion, which is our .faith, must underlie all the circumstances of our lives and give them a Catholic tone and value. That is the work ¯ of faith. Thus by living a life of faith we actively live our grace-life. "The just man liveth by faith" (Rum. 1:17). Indeed, our faith and our divine life grow step by step together. For every holy deed we do God gives us this reward: our grace-life grows fuller and at the same time our virtue of faith is so deepened and enriched that it becomes stronger against temptation, that we are more Christ-minded, that we can make greater acts of faith. In this manner faith plays its important part in the growth of our divine life. OUR CONTRIBUTORS JOSEPH F. GALLEN and JOHN MATTHEW8 are members of the faculty at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. DOMINIC HUGHES is a member of the Pontifical Faculty of Theology, Dominican House of Studies, Washington, D. C. 72 On Controversy WE HAVE RECEIVED certain c,r, iticisms for publishing "Thd Three Ages o~f the Interior Life, by G.'Augustine Ellard, S.3". (Cf. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, VIII, 297-317.) One criti-cism is that the "theological erudition" of Father Ellard's article "takes advantage of readers who lack the technical preparation neces- Sary to measure its true weight." (Cf. IX, 42~-43.) Another criti-cism, not sent for publication, is that Father Ellard's article contains controversial matter, and that a magazine like ours should keep clear of controversy. It seems advisable to explain our position. Father Ellard's article was a book review; and the work he reviewed (The Three Ages of the Interior Life, by Father R. Garri-gou- Lagrange, OIP.) is decidedly theological. It is difficult to see how a v~ork of this kind could be reviewed without using theological erudition. Moreover, The Three Ages is intended, as least partly, for just such people as our readers; hence it seems that the theological erudition used in reviewing the work would no more take advantage of readers than would the work itself. It might be added here that one of the precise purposes for founding this REVIEW was tO present sound theology without the technical accompaniments that are usu-ally found in a strictly theological journal. As for controversy, we have always tried assiduously to avoid controversial topics or at least to avoid taking sides in any theologi-cal debate. Less than a year ago, when we published "Mystical Life--Mystical Prayer," by M. Raymond, O.C.S.O., we were care-ful to prefix to the article an editorial note indicating that Father Raymond's view was only one of three legitimately defended opin-ions on the normal development of the spiritual life. We expressed no preference for any of the opinions. (Cf. VIII, 121,) No one objected to our calling attention to the controversial nature of Father Raymond's article. Why, therefore, should anyone object to Father Ellard's pointing out that certain basic questions in The Three Ages are subjects of legitimate controversy? It would be naive to imply that, in publishing Father Ellard's .article, we did not expect contrary reactions. Since the author of The Three Ages has many admirers, it was quite likely that some of 73 ON CONTROVERSY Review for Religious them would come to his defense. It is clear, then, that in publishing the book review, we had to run the risk of controversy. The only ways oi~ avoiding it would be to refuse to review the work, or to publish an insincere review, or to print a sincere review without allowing a rebuttal. None of these procedures was or is desirable. Hence, we have some controversy, and perhaps it may continue for a time. We trust that our readers will find it both interesting and profitable. In this issue we present an article by Father Dominic Hughes, O.P., in rebuttal to Father Ellard, together with a brief reply by Father Ellard and a communication defending his position. Other'expres-sions of opinion on either side will be accepted. However, lest this subject .matter consume disproportionate space in the REVIEW, it seems necessary to limit further contributions to communications. Conditions for acceptance of these communications will be found on page 96. Now a word about Father Hughes's article. In some aspects it differs from our usual editorial policy; yet it seemed better, under the circumstances, to waive insistence on policy. What he says, however, about doctrinal authority in the Church, especially the authority of Doctors of the Church in general and of St. Thomas Aquinas in particular, calls for special editorial comment. For the most part this comment will simply agree with him and emphasize the truth of what he says; in one point it will at least qualify one of his views if not express a complete difference of opinion. Father Hughes rightly observes that the highest doctrinal author-ity in this world is the teaching Church. And this truth needs emphasizing in our times, even in the case of many devout laymen. This teaching Church is composed of the Pope himself, and of the bishops of the world united with tbe Pope, whether in a general council or ~in their respective dioceses. Theologians graphically and reverently style the~e successors to the Apostles theVioum Magisterium (the living teaching body) or simply the Ecclesia Docens (the teaching Church). It is a wonderful thing, this living teaching Church; it pos-sesses not only the great truths of revelation with which Christ and the Holy Spirit endowed the Apostles but also all the wisdom of the succeeding centuries which has been used in the exploration and explanation of the original endowment (the Deposit of Faith,. as it is. called), The Doctors and other theologians have authority only in so far as they express either the doctrine of this living .Church or 74 March, 1950 ON CONTROVERSY speculations which are in conformity with that doctrine. The revelation confided to the Church is a limitless treasure; and our knowledge of the doctrine and its implications is subject to con-stant growth. In this process 9f growth through the centuries there have always been questions that were not clear, that needed further exploration and illumination. Consequently, there have been and are divergent opinions, with abIe scholars defending contrasting views, without remonstrance and even with encouragement from the Church. The interesting question thus arises: how is the theologian of today to align himself in such controversies? Thd first duty of the true theologian is to judge the reasons of the respective sides in the light of already established principles and doctrines. Finding the reasons lacking sufficient cogency to win his preference, he might then inspect the authorities holding the different views. Suppose that in a debated question such as I have just outlined, a Doctor of the Church would be the principal defendant of one opinion. Should he, by the very fact that-he is a Doctor, win the theologian's intellectual preference? I get the impression from Father Hughes's article that he would answer this question in the affirma-tive. If this impression is correct, there is room here for a difference of opinion. The title of Doctor of the Church includes an official declaration of eminence in theological learning, but not necessarily pre-eminence over all uncanonized scholars. The eminence of some of these uncanonized theologians is attested by the constant use of their works in theological schools and even by the great, confidence placed in them by the Church while they were still living. Father Hughes suggests that in the canonized Doctor there is the added con-sideration of supernatural wisdom. But this wisdom is not limited to the canonized; it accompanies grace and virtue, not canonization. And history attests that many of the uncanonized scholars were men of lofty virtue. For example, speaking for Benedict-XV, Cardinal Gasparri styled Scotus a "most holy man,"; and speaking for himself Leo XIII referred to eminent Jesuit scholars (none of whom .were then Doctors of the Church) as men of "extraordinary virtue." So much for the authority of Doctors of the Church in general. As for St. Thomas Aquinas in particular, it is unquestionable that the Church's esteem for him is unique. Canon 1366, § 2, directs that professors of philosophy and theology should treat these subjects after the method, doctrine, and principles of the Angelic Doctor, and ¯ should hold these as sacred. An examination of the many documents 75 ON CONTROVERSY Review for Reliflious referred to in the sources of this' canon shows that it is but a capsule formulation of the insistent injunctions and directives of Leo XIII, Plus X, and Benedict XV. These Popes considered him not merely as an individual but also as the representative of all the great Scho-lastics of his time because in his works the best of their teaching is most perfectly embodied. Six years after the promulgation of the Code of Canon Law, Plus XI reaffirmed the praise and injunctions of his predecessors in an encyclical letter (Studiorum Ducem, June 29, 1923) which is rightly called a papal commentary on canon 1366, § 2. Finally; just a few months after he became Supreme Pontiff, Plus XII, in an address to clerical students in Rome, .recalled and approved all these directives (June 24, 1939). Obviously, therefore, the Church wants professors and students of philosophy and theology to follow St. Thomas. Ye~ it is not to be a slavish following which, in the words of Benedict XV, "would clip the wings of genius with consequent injury to the deeper study of theology," (Spoken in an audience granted to the Jesuit General and his Assistants, Feb. 17, 19.15.) 'This is not the place to try to indicate precisely the legitimate limitations to the following of St. Thomas; but it may be well to show, through the words of the Popes themselves, that the~e are some limits. Speaking of the "wisdom of Aquinas," Leo XIII insisted that he did not wish to propose to our age for imitation "anything which does not duly agree with the proved findings of a later age;" or any-thing "which does not hax~e its measure of probability." (Cf. the encyclical Aeterni Patrfs, in Fontes Codicis, III, p. 149.) Benedict XV declared in a letter to the Jesuit General (Mar. 19, 1917) that the Roman Pontiffs "have invariably held that St. Thomas must be regarded as the guide and master in the study of theology and phi-losophy,, although everyone retains full freedom to argue for either side of those questions which can be and are wont to be disputed." Pius XI, having enjoined the strict observance of canon 1366, § 2, added: "But let no one require of others more than is required of all by the Church herself who is the teacher and mother of all; for in those matters in which there is division of opinion among the best authors in Catholic schools, no one is forbidden to follow that opinion which seems to him to be nearer to the truth." (AAS, XV, 324.) Finally, in the address previously referred to, Pius XII said: "At the same time we make Our own the warnings of these same Predecessors, whereby they sought to protect genuine progress in sci- 76 ON CONTROVERSY ence and lawful liberty of research. We thoroughly approve and recommend that the ancient wisdom be brought into accord, if need be, with the new discoveries of scholarship; that there be free discus-sion of points on which reputable students of the Angelic Doctor commonly argue; that fresh resources be drawn from history for the better understanding of the text of St.Thomas." (AAS, XXX; 246-47.) Some people, hazily cognizant of historical disagreements on certain profound questions, seem to think that Dominicans and Jesuits are always on opposite sides of a theological debate and that Jesuits are not followers of St. Thomas. The impression is false. And it may be informative to add here that St. Ignatius enjoined the study of the "Scholastic doctrine of St. Thomas," and that this rather general prescription of our constitutions was made very definite by our Fifth General Congregation (1594), which legislated that Jesuits must consider St. Thomas as their own special doctor. The words of Leo XIII are witness to the fidelity of Jesuits in carrying out this command. Speaking of eminent Jesuit theologians, the Pope said that "being as they were, men of extraordinary virtue and talent, and applying themselves assiduously to the works of the Angelic Doctor, with certain arguments they expounded his tenets in a manner full and excellent,, they adorned his doctrine with the rich trappings of erudition, they made many keen and practical deduc-tions therefrom for the refutation of new errors, adding besides what-ever declarations or more exact decrees had since that time been made by the Church in this same field. The fruits of their industry no one in truth can spurn without loss to himself." (Apostolic Letter Gravissirne Nos to the Jesuit General, 1892.) --GERALD KELLY, S.J. SEARCHLIGHTING OURSELVES Many shrewd observations for retreats and tridua are found in Searchlighting Ourselues, the Retreat Notes of Father Timothy Brosnahan, S.J., edited by Francis P. LeBuffe, S.J. The book contains notes on the various meditations of The Spir-itual Exercises, several conferences on basic points of the spiritual life, and a number of special meditations, notably a series on the Beatitudes, for use during tridua. Jesuit Seminary and Mission Bureau, 51 East 83rd St., New York 28, N.Y. 77 Works of Made/v anit:es!: Dominic Hughes, O.P. CHARITY and solicitude for souls moved .Father Ellard (RE-VIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, November, 1949) to lay several stric-tures upon Father Garrigou-Lagrange's Three A~es of the Interior Life. That same charity now prompts a staying hand. Petulance or truculence cannot rise to defend either side in chari-table controversy. Neither party can reprove the sincere expression of an opinion any more than either can approve indefiniteness in doc-trine or ineptness in expression. Rather both must call upon charity's constant companion, wisdom, whose "abode is in the full assembly of the saints" (Ecclesiasticus 24: 16). However unqualified writers or readers may be in matters secu-larly or sacredly scientific, their judgment from wisdom will partake of that calm and certitude of those aware that "If anyone desires to do His will, he will know of the teaching whether it is from God" (,John 7:17). Even in these controversies about subsidiary doc-trines and their suitable expression something of the clarity and security of a truly wise appraisal is attainable, "for the spiritual man judges all" (I Corinthians 2 : 15). The judgment of the spiritual man is based on neither caprice nor allegiance, but solely upon wisdom. "It pertains to wisdom," --St. Thomas, the Common Doctor, expressed the common doc-trine--" to consider the highest causes through which it may judge of other things with the greatest certitude and according to which it should order other things" (Summa Tbeolo~qica, II-Ilae. q.45, a.1). Wisdom, then, has one main product and two by-products. The primary product of any habit of wisdom is a "consideration of the highest causes." In the different orders of reality and knowl-edge, various highest causes attract the attention of divers kinds of wise men. In any case, however, the object of wisdom's considera-tion is the ultimate, in words as in works. In works the absolute ultimate in no way ordered to anything further, and the measure of all, are the works of God made manifest in the works of Christ. Relatively ultimate, first and last in a particular line, and the measure of that group, are the works, for example, of a founder of a religious society, so that St. Ignatius would be the measure of the accomplish-ments as Jesuits of his followers, even of the glorious achievements 78 March, 1950 WORKS OF GOD MADE MANIFEST of St. Francis Xavier and St. Robert Bellarmine. In words, the absolute and unassailable ultimate is the voice of the Church and Sacred Scripture. Relative ultimates, too, are found in various writings: .those of St. Thomas for the whole of theology, those of St. Alphonsus Liguori for practice in moral problems, and those of St. 3ohn of the Cross inmatters mystical. Upon the basis of this "consideration of highest causes" wisdom has as one of its by-pr0ducts a judgment of things other than the highest cause itself "with the greatest certitude." The maximum of security in judgment is not invariable, but will change according as the highest cause is either absolutely or only relatively ultimate. In matters in which the Voice of God has not yet been heard---or may never be--the certitude attainable cannot be as unqualified as when the Church has spoken. Yet various other causes may be given a limited but appreciable certitude as they more or less cogently elimi-nate any worthy fear of contradiction. Moreover, some considera-tions within the scope of wisdom's judgment, metaphysics for example, need admit of no exceptions. Moral judgments, of which the mystical is a phase, however, can attain a certitude about human actions only "as they most often happen." "For it is the mark of the educated man to look for certitude in each class of things just so far as the nature of the subject admits" (Aristotle, I Ethics, c. 3). In this spirit, St. Augustine, who was well aware that no case was finished until Rome had spoken, expressed a wise certitude: "I do not wish my reader to be bound down to me, so I do not wish my corrector to be bound down to himself. Let not the former love me more than the Catholic faith, let not the latter love himself more than the Catholic verity . Do not be willing to amend my writings by thine own opinion or disputation, but from the divine text or by unanswerable reasons." (On the Trinity, Bk. III, Preface.) The mere possibility of an unwarranted contradiction because his every word was not inspired or even uncontested--was not enough to unsettle the mind of St. Augustine, even about what he himself had written. Certainly others reading his words so often approved by the Church can reach the "greatest certitude." Like-wise, concerning a wide variety of matters, even without a decision of the Church or a consensus of theologians, certitude can be had upon the basis of either the arguments proposed or auth6rities cited. The citing of authorities is not a matter of number but of weight. The weight of one Doctor of the Church can overbalance toward 79 DOMINIC HUGHES Review [or Religious certitude any dispute, despite the contradictions of a multitude of theological scribes. Weighing such authority is the second by-product of wisdom. From a catalog of opinions or an enumeration of members of various schools a deep appreciation of human limita-tions may be derived, but scarcely a wise judgment. Wisdom, in addition to considering the highest causes and judging other things with the greatest certitude, orders other things .acgording to the highest cause, either in any particular grouping or according to the absolute ultimate itself. It does not gather a crowd but establishes a hierarchy. Not how many authors may be found who differ from one another, but how they are arranged relative to the primary master of the subject, e.g., ~lohn of the Cross~such is the judgment of wisdom. This wise ordering of authors, moreover, avoids two extremes. Spiritual atavism is inclined to bow so low and so often before the ancestral authority of a father, either of the Church or even of a particular spiritual family, that little opportunity is afforded for examining or explaining doctrinal implications or making practical applications. The other extreme to be shunned, more a tendency than a tenet, is a mollified "modernism." Those affected by it are disposed to judge the latest as the best, the more contemporary as the, more commendable. The foundation for avoiding both extremes, too much of the past, too much of the.present, and of formulating a truly wise judgment is an ordering, not according to.personal prefer-ences but according to principles. The principles of wise judgment are not personal but the peren-nial preferences and special approbation of the Church. When the Popes have praised and so often used particular authorities, e.g., St. Augustine or St. Thomas, as the highest, though not the exclusive causes for engendering certitude in the judgments of the faithful, there is little fear of worthy contradiction in following their example. In that case, other theological or spiritual writers, as they more or less approach and approximate the doctrines of these highest causes of the greatest possible certitude will take their place in the estimate and esteem of wisdom. The impressiveneses of such considerations as numbers, either of authors or copies of their works sold, avail-ability in English, or other such shavings of certitude is, for wisdom, negligible compared to the arguments or authority of but a single Doctor of the Church. These teachers of the "mind of Christ" offer principles at once profound and practical. The highest in heaven always seem the most down-to-earth. None realized more than they how each soul 80 March, 1950 WORKS OF GOD MADE MANIFEST must budget its talents, using a few well-coined principles through- Out its spiritual life to make both ends meet---in God. Prodigality in principles and in words, they were sure, would contribute to neither practicality nor profundity. With but little, and all of that Christ's, they sought and saw the deep things of God and the deep things of each soul on its way towards Him. The profundity and practicality of other spiritual writers can be wisely appraised only as it more or less approaches what is found in the Doctors both in their wisdom by infusion and their Wisdom by 'industry. Together in a single act these fountainheads of truth converged to give the saintly doctors their certitude. In others--so often what is united in superiors is divided in inferiors--an actual judgment is the result of either one or tlSe other, either of wisdom by infusion or of wisdom by industry. Wisdom by infusion, the science of the saints, as a Gift of the Holy Ghost judgeswith certainty and orderliness, not through metaphysical discourse, but by a loving accord with its object--"by tasting and seeing that the Lord is sweet." Wisdom by industry, the science of theology, on the other hand, secure though it is in the principles of faith, suffers the labors and infirmities of all human effort. Yet,. at times, wisdom by infusion must appeal to wisdom by industry to corroborate its expressions and to co-ordinate its findings; the mystics and spiritual writers must submit divine truth to the scribes in theology for a test in human terms. Wisdom's test, in human terms, concerning the charitable contro-versy over the divergent views of Father Garrigou-La~range and Father Ellard involves two major considerations: doctrine and method. The points of doctrinal divergence most worthy of mention con-cern the Gifts of the Holy Ghost: contemplation: its place and kinds; and the unity of the interior life. The methodological differences arise either positively from the stress or emphasis of one doctrine more than another, or negatively through the omission of detail by some considered as integral to any spiritual treatise. WISDOM IN WORDS: DOCTRINE The points controverted concerning the Gifts of the Holy Ghost are their necessity, nature, function, and number. " Concerning each of these points separately, and cumulatively, too, Father Ellard brings forth his hobgoblin--uncertainty. Upo'n how little might be said with certainty there can be found only the sole small voice of scholarly research, Father DeBlic, who 81 DOMINIC HUGHES Review [or R'eligious minimizes w.hat even Father De Guibert, S.J., thought .an irredu-cible denominator. Many Dominican theologians, are cited as recog-nizing a.controversy upon the matter, but the conclusions of each do not seem worthy of mention by Father Ellard. If thi~. process were pushed to its principle, it would imply that as soon as a point is questioned it immediately becomes questionable, and as soon as doubted, doubtful. Such can. scarcely be a moving principle to wis-dom which has ordered authorities according .to the highest among them and thus attained the "greatest certitude." To corroborate the general judgment of wisdom, however, each subordinate point which has come under scrutiny may well be examined. The necessity of the Gifts, as explained by St. Thomas, seems to have suffered the least from the minimizing tendencies of later and lesser theologians. None of the mystics, moreover, have found them a luxury. They are vital to the life of divine grace; "the just man," Leo XIII testified in his Encyclical Dioinum illud munus (May 9, 1897), "has need of these seven gifts." Because of the overwhelming testimony in tradition to the intimate association of the state of grace and presence of the Gifts, even the doughtiest opponent of Thomistic doctrine on the Gifts must treat the denial of this point as negligible. The nature of the Gifts, however, is quite another matter. "They make us docile to the Holy Ghost," according to a formula suffi-ciently broad to embrace all'variants, but not to preclude precisions. While all would agree that docility to the Holy Ghost is of the essence of the Gifts, as Father Ellard triumphantly pointed out to drive in the wedge of uncertainty, "not all" would ,concur with St. Thomas in finding them distinct habits in the soul. The words of Sacred Scripture itself give warrant for St. Thomas's doctrine, inasmuch as they imply a unique divine influx. This,doctrine of St. Thomas cannot lightly be set aside. His reason cannot be dis-proved, his authority no one can gainsay. Although obviously not of Faith, his doctrine has an approbation by the Church incompar-ably above any i~f those proposed by Father Ellard as competitors for our certain allegiance. Ordinary permission to teach or publish thisis only a faint resemblance to the abundant approval given to Doctors of the Church. In them, because of their sanctity and the special scrutiny of their works, the Church recognizes unique wit-nesses and guardians of her patrimony, the doctrine of Christ. Over and above the acclamations usually given to a Doctor, St. Thomas has received frequent and unique marks of esteem from the Church. Pope Pius V referred to him as "the most certain rule of Christian 82 March, 1950 X~rORKS OF GOD MADE MANIFEST doctrine," and Pope Clement VIII was sure that he could be "fol-lowed without any danger of error." These" and many other state-ments by successive Popes are not private hyperbole but public declarations, normative if not mandatory in Faith. Against this weight of certitude from St. Thomas, Father Ellard proposes (p. 305) a theologian described, in a citation from clerical students, as the."Subtle Doctor." Of the su.btlet~r of'Scotus there is no doubt; but of the tebm "Doctor" as applied to him there is con-siderable reason for hesitance. No more of a' Doctor of the Church than so many others who have taught in her schools throughout the centuries, Scotus has neithe~ the approval of his sanctity nor of his doctrine that is required of a Doctor. His opinion is, therefore, of an entirely other brder in certitude from that of St. Thomas. It is on a plane "with that of Suarez, who could not concur with St. Thomas in the matter of grace but could affirm against Scotus that he appreciated the importance of distinguishing between the virtues and the Gifts. The allegiance, moreover, of St. Francis de Sales to the doctrine of Scotus cannot be alleged'with certitude. The Gifts are, in the words cited by Father Ellard' (p. 306), "the virtues, properties and qualities of charity." (Cf. The Looe or: God, XI, 15.) "Speaking precisely," as St. Francis assured us he was doing, all these entities are distinct from the essence, although perhaps inseparable from it. In like manner, although the Gifts and charity are always together, they do not merge into one habit, otherwise the same might be said of St. Francis de Sales' doctrine of the relation of charity and the other infused virtues. Charity would not then be the "gift of gifts" (XI, 19), but the one gift, n6t the essence or bond of perfection, but the whole of the spiritual organism. There is nothing suffi-ciently explicit in the words of St. Francis de Sales to indicate an approval of the Scotistic opinion or the disapproval of the doctrine of St. Thomas. Even if a rivalry were established between these two Doctors of the Church, inasmuch as the matter is one of theological principles, the preponderance of authority would easily go to St. Thomas. To St. Thomas, then, and not to Father Garrigou-Lagrange, wisdom looks for its "highest cause" according to which it might order other opinions and thus attain the "greatest certitude" possible concerning the nature" of the Gifts. Obviously, Pohle-Preuss, Forget; Van der Meersch, and legions of other writers who subscribe to what is least as what is safest, are far from disturbing the certitude of 'a 83 DOMINIC HUGHES Reoiew for Religious soul in which wisdom dwells. The judgment of wisdom appre-ciates the authority and approves the arguments, the sublimity and certainty, of the doctrine on the Gifts proposed without equivoca-tion by St. Thomas. Allegedly based upon St. Thomas and employing his authority is the more recent confection of two different modes of the Gifts in life. The gesture with which Father Ellard includes Cardinal Billot among Thomists is so expansive that it would embrace all who, for one point or another, approximate the teaching of the Angelic Doc-tor, whose method, doctrine, and principles are to be held by all teachers as sacred according to the mandate of the Church (Code of Canon Law, canon 1366, § 2). Moreover, the contemporary pro-ponent of the theory qf two modes of the Gifts in this life, one ordi-nary, the other extraordinary, was immediately and unhesitatingly denounced as having mistaken and misquoted St. Thomas by Fathers R. Dalbiez (l~tudes Carm$litaines, April 1933, pp. 250ff.) and P. P~rinelle (Revue des sciences philosophiques et theologiques, No~ember 1932, p. 692), as well as by Father Garrigou-Lagrange (La Vie spirituelle, November 1932, suppl, pp. [ 77 ] if). Such total misinterpretation of St. Thomas cannot be a "form of modern Thomistic theory on the Gifts," as Father Ellard would have it (p. 310), but rather a warning against making St. Thomas a wit-ness to any elaboration prejudicial to his principles. Certain, partly because it is "seamless," Thomistic doctrine preserves its purity and integrity by faithful adherence to the "method, doctrine, and prin-ciples" in the text of St.' Thomas, particularly in the question of the nature of the Gifts. The number of the Gifts is likewise clearly and authoritatively determined in the text of St. Thomas. As always, he is in full accord with the texts of Sacred Scripture which the Church and the best exegetes c~ansider most reliable, as well as the sense of the Church in the hymn Veni, Sancte Spiritus, and the Catechism of the Coun-cil of Trent. St. Augustine is of the same mind (cf. On Christian Doctrine, II, 7), and St. Francis de Sales refers to the "seven Gifts of the Holy Ghost" (The Love of God, XI, 19) in a text otherwise considered probative by Father Ellard (p. 306). To introduce and perhaps induce a doubt in the traditional enumerhtion as taxative or "limitative," Father Ellard cites (p. 309) an author who would amplify the number as by "an infinite variety of shades." This plethora, seven is a "plenitude," the same author affirms is the intention of the sacred authors, "as we know." How we are to know, 84 March, 1950 WORKS OF GOD MADE MANIFEST however, is not indicated. Either a private revelation or some extremely adroit exegesis would be necessary to belie the authority of Doctors of the Church, who, so close to the primary author of Sacred Scripture--the Holy Ghost--have considered the Gifts as numeri-cally determined. Determination by the Doctors on one point may leave still another undetermined with exactly the same cogency and certitude. St. Thomas himself, having given, on the authority of another, a general schema of the functions of the various gifts, found it neces-sary to reconsider one of its aspects. "Who will assure us that the . last is perfect?" Father EIIard quotes (p. 309) a scholar who has studied the point. Who, on the other hand, will be temerarious enough to.insist that the last is imperfect or.less perfec~ than any other proposed? A distinction and argument which, after long thought, had clarity and cogency for St. Thomas has the added note of authority for those who wisely appraise both the change and the conclusion. In making his schema, St. Thomas realized he was establishing an appropriate parallel, an educative device, an argu-. ment of convenience. Neither he nor St. Augustine--nor Father Garrigou-Lagrange--attributes the same probative force to a schema as to a syllogism. Indeed, The Three Ages evidences an admirable conformity to the doctrine of St. Thomas, and his classical commen-tator, John of St. Thomas, in the substance and schema for the functioning of the various Gifts. The final point concerning what Father Ellard chooses rather ungraciously to call "the present-day Thomistic hypothesis" of the Gifts is their association with the doctrine that some graces are intrinsically efficacious. A larger issue is involved here than the .mat-ter of the Gifts and it should not be treated by innuendo. If at this juncture "many people pause," as Father Ellard expects (p. 310), because the common pre-Reformation doctrine on the efficacy of grace and the nature of the Gifts are "indissolubly bound" in doctrinal integrity, will it be to neglect an assured and consistent teaching for one that is hopelessly entangled in affirmations, denials, and com-promises? Those who demur at the doctrine of grace as expounded by St. Thomas cannot fail to deny his teaching on the Gifts. Only a compromise could enable Suarez to affirm the doctrine of St. Thomas on the nature of the Gifts and deny his doctrine on grace. Such compromises are always uncertain, as the doctrinally internecine con-flict among Molinists and Congruists amply testifies. Somewhat as a summary of his consideration of the .Gifts, 85 DOMINIC HUGHES Review [or Religious Father. Ellard implies (p. 311) that because leading Thomists are aware of controversies they themselves are subject to uncertainty. Nothing could be further from the truth, unless that Catholics by their cognizance of heresy diminish their faith. Moreover, because the teaching of The Three Ages is based upon what "the great majority of theologians hold with St.Thomas," a wise judgment would con-cede Father Ellard but poor pleasure in having ferreted out an admission that "'not all [italics his] theologians agree on this par-ticular fundamental point." Upon such minimal evidence and defensive techniques only an artificial uncertainty and imprudent reservation or suspension of judgment can be built. Father Ellard-emphasizes complexity ;ind confusion, Father Garrigou-Lagfange the "certitude of the great directive principles that illuminate all spirituality (cf. p. 311)." In the matter of the Gifts, their neces-sity, nature, number, and fufiction, .not St. Thomas' and Father Garrigou-Lagrange's unassailable doctrine, but Father Ellard's unre-solved doubts lead to "'disillusionment and discouragement" which all are so solicitous to avoid. Another complex question in need of "great directive principles" is that of contemplation. Concerning the exposition of contempla-tion in The Three Ages, Father Ellard seems to find two points of difficulty: the presence of acquired contemplation; the place of the infused. With regard to acquired contemplation, Father Ellard finds reason for criticism in the fact that Father Garrigou-.Lagrange gives it "hardly any place" in his s'ynthesis of the entire interior life,, while the Carmelite Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen devoted "half his work, St. dohn of the Cross" to justifying its place in Carmelite theology. The same Carmelite, however, gives as his wise and orderly conclusion (pp. 199-200) that "the central thesis of the Thomistic spiritual synthesis is supported by the doctrine of actlx;e contemplation." Even if Father Ellard, in the Three Ages, would replace "hardly" with "half" to suit his preferences, the wise ordering of part to whole in both Carmelite and Dominican is obvious. Moreover, "St. Theresa never speaks of any other than infused contemplation.,"~ Father Gabriel states categorically (p. 111), while he and others can find only equivalents of the term in St. John of the Cross. Both the problem of terminology and the point of doc-trine concerning the "beginning of contemplation" (Dark Night, I, 9) and the "acquired prayer of recollection" receive ample and appropriate treatment in the chapter on "Contemplative Prayer" in The Three Ages. More would.make a part into a polemic. 86 March, 1950 WORKS OF GOD MADE MANIFEST If others disagree with Father Garrigou-Lagrange in this matter it should not be surprising. The harmony he has indicated between St. Thomas and St. John of the Cross is well-founded in the best Carmelite and Dominican authorities. If a dissident attitude arises from the outside and even seeps within, the foundations, of accord in the Theresian and Thomistic teachings are not tragically undermined. Without mentioning either the Common or the Mystical Doctor, Father Ellard has assembled a variety of authorities (p. 303) to indicate a confusion on the place of infused contemplation. The teachings of Msgr. Saudreau, Tanquerey, Crisogono, and Naval-- all but the last two differing from one another--are arrayed against that of The Three Ages. No mention is made, however, of which of all in the field more closely conforms to the doctrine of the Doctor of Contemplation, St. John of the Cross. Tanquerey, Crisogono, and Naval are not even close. Msgr. Saudreau confines contempla-tion to the unitive way. With "a great difference indeed" (p. 303) Father Garrigou-Lagrange conforms exactly to the doctrine of St. John by placing infused contemplation in both the unitive way and--to use St. John's own words--"the way of proficients, which is also called the illuminative way, or the way of infused contempla-tion" (Dark Night, I, 14). This explicit testimony of the "highest cause" in matters of contemplation and Father Garrigou-Lagrange's strict conformity to it, leaves but one judgment ~or wisdom-- "greatest certitude" for the doctrine on the place of infused con-templa. tion in The Three Ages. Moreover, when it is a question of the relationship between the Gifts and contemplation, Father Ellard's strictures are utterly con-fused. His use as an argument from omission of inappropriate texts from St. Francis de Sales and St. Alphonsus "who would have advocated for all a form of mental prayer that is full of inspirations from the Holy Spirit" is pitiably feeble. Fantastic, nothing less, is his assertion that "although in their process nothing has been said about infused contemplation," persons have been canonized, and hence "we can safely conclude" from no mention, let alone non-manifestation, to the non-existence of interior intellectual movements of the Holy Ghost in their souls. Father Garrigou-Lagrange clearly indicates (I, 81) saints and situations in which the activity of the intellectual Gifts are "diffuse." In them the practical Gifts of coun-sel, fortitude, or fear are more apparent, yet all the gifts will be "highly developed" and wisdom will [egulate all. Since the highest of mystical experiences is within the scope of a moral consideration, 87 DOMINIC HUGHES Ret~ieto for Religious judgments must be wisely formed" of them "as they most often hap-pen." Exceptions corroborate, not corrupt, certitude in morals, "for the man educated to expect them." Neither the fact that "various exceptions" are admitted to the doctrine of the predominance of infused contemplation, nor its "being so closely associated with a questionable theory of the gifts (p. 312)" is ground for asserting that the Theresian-Thomistic position in the Three Ages "suffers" a loss of certitude. Only those who are con-stantly looking for some "phenomenon in consciousness" which is "humanly noticeable" (p. 31'~) complain of dangers of disillusion-ment because the truth of mystical experience did not fit into their preconceived patterns. From the doctrines on the Gifts and contemplation flows the final point of difficulty: the normality of infused contemplation or the unity of the interior life. To Father Ellard's wonderment, The Three Ages "embodies no great new discovery nor corrects any old error" (p. 311). His observation is remarkably exact. The discovery is old, the error is new. Until the seventeenth century no one lost sight of the unity of the interior life and no arbitrary and artificial cleavage between ascetical and mystical theology was introduced. With the publica-tion of Scaramelli's Ascetical Directory an.d Mystical Director~l, how-ever the division and its tragic consequences were popularized. Since things ascetical were conceived as ordinary and the mystical, i.e., infused contemplation, as extraordinary, humility became the motive for the humdrum, and many souls apt for contemplation were forced to excruciating torments on the treadmill of discursive meditation. This new error bade fair to destroy an old discovery. To Father Garrigou-Lagtange is due sincere tribute as one of the vanguard leading souls to an appreciation of the traditional teaching on the unity of the interior life, its contemplative graces and gifts. Those only need fear disillusionment or discouragement in his leadership whose limited ideals or faint heart stultify their wisdom. WISDOM AT WORK: METHOD Wisdom governs not only the principles of the interior life but their presentation. In The Three Ages, Father EIlatd finds its doc-trinal stress and seeming omissions particularly distressing. Father Garrigou-Lagrange's stress upon the Gifts of the Holy Ghost is indeed a strain for Father Ellard. For him, "The whole vast construction presented in these two large volumes stands or fails with the special doctrine on the Gifts of the Holy Spirit which 88 March, 1950 WORKS OF GOD MADE MANIFEST forms as it were the supporting framework for it" (p. 305). Yet Father Ellard himself declared (p. 297) that "degrees of virtues, the functions of the Gifts of the Holy Ghost, various purifications, arid the grades of prayer are assigned to each of the three ages." Perhaps the mere presence of the Gifts gives them too much prominence for Father Ellard. On~ of his authorities (p. 313), and a confrere, Father Poulain, apparently not a theologian, however proficient a psychologist, in his extensive work, The Graces of Interior Prayer, somehow manages to avoid any treatment of the Gifts. To anyone acquainted with their importance in traditional spiritual writers, the exposition of The Three Ages will seem the mere summary it was intended to be (I, 66). On the other hand, the omissi~)ns Father Ellard finds so lamen-table are more nominal than real. If the part;.cular examination deals with the predominant fault, a chapter on that subject should satisfy Father Ellard's justification of it as "one of the major tech-nique. s in modern Catholic asceticism." When "for the general examination no precise method is suggested," it need not be a strange omission.Once the "Sins to be Avoided" are mentioned, as Father Garrigou-Lagrange does in a chapter by that name (I, 299), the remainder is left to the individual conscience', even in the Spiritual Exercises, since of its five acts in this matter two are a preface, two an epilogue of prayers. Again in the case of mental prayer, concrete details appeal to Father Ellard as the source of certitude. As a mat-ter of fact, the opposite is true. The more particularized is the treat-ment, the more it is subject to doubt. The devious details of these devices for praying, whose security for some is largely in their famili-arity, are better consciously omitted by anyone who writes with the "certitude of the great directive principles of all spirituality" (cf. p. 311). The method of The Three Ages, moreover, cannot rather "stress theory than practice" (p. 302) if its principal excellence is "its inspiratio:lal value," and if "a reader feels his heart warmed and his enthusiasm enkindled" (p. 301). It can scarcely be labeled as more given to "metaphysics than psychology" (p. 302) when the author keeps reminding his readers of the grand dogmas of Christianity, their "infinite elevation," their implications for our "affective and practical lives" (p. 301). WORDS AT WORK FOR THE WISE For the wise, who are so either by industry in theology or by 89 DOMINIC HUGHES infusion .with God's love, a word of conclusion is sufficient. A wise word may not have rhetorical flair, but it cannot be faltering or fal-lacious. As an expression of the judgment of the "highest causes" with the "greatest certitude" and other things in an orderly manner, it is not an assembly of facts, but an appraisal of values. The relative values of both content and method between what Father Garrigou-Lagrange and Father Ellard offer for its appraisal leave wisdom no doubt whatever. In points of doctrine Father Ellard seems to be without the solid foundation of a man whos~ theological industry has made him wise. Despite his erudition-- sometimes amid the most trivial sources-~-his analysis lacks pro-fundity. Its practicality, too, since it fails in its calculated effect, is open to question. In the face" of an artificially imposed order, Father Ellard's thoughts ramble and lose themselves in details. When his conclusions are declarative, they waver over a "whatever" (p. 314) or a "whether or not" (p. 316), and when they are an interrogative they are most uncertain. His precision in labelling the doctrines of others he suddenly loses when he lets "Catholic" and "Church" slip into sentences containing ideas he favors (p. 302). All of this gives his article the appearance of a somewhat gauche polemic rather than of a sincere and solicitous appraisal. On the other hand, the mag-nificent proportions of The Three Ages are not often met with in contemporary spiritual writing. Because it presents so well the "great dogmas of Christianity" as well as "their implications for our affective and practical lives," each reader feels his "heart warmed and his enthusiasm enkindled for these great truths" (p. 301). Wisdom's final word concerning the providential purpose of this and other discordant notes in the harmony of the teachings in the Church on the interior life is after the Model of Wisdom Him-self. When the Apostles saw the man born blind, they balanced-- unknowingl~, perhaps--one rabbinical opinion against another: "this man or his parents?" They were forced to suspend judgment, because seeing only alternatives and not an order to a Highest Cause, they remained uncertain. When they appealed to Christ, He gave them an answer many rabbis would not have considered scientific or satisfying "in terms of human experience."" Yet it was sublime and secure. Wisdom Himself replied to the Apostles, and reassures all in the present instance: supernatural security and salvation are accom-plished through suffering and the triumph of wisdom--"because the works of God were to be made manifest . " (John 9:3). 90 March, 1950 FATHER ELLARD'S REPLY FATHER ELLARD'S REPLY In his inspiring introductory remarks on wisdom Father Hughes proposes a restricted, relative, and special sense of "certain." " If'we accept that, th~n really there hardly seems to be any necessity of my saying more. He' has virtually conceded the great cardinal point of my whole criticism, namely, that Father Garrigou-Lagrange's doc-trine on the gifts and the corresponding thesis on infused ~ontempla-tion insofar.as this depends on that doctrine, are not, in the plain and ordinary sense of the term, certain. Certaint~ , in this sense, espe-cially when predicated of a doctrine that is theological and specu-lative, is opposed not only to probability, bfit even to greater prob-ablity. Similarly, if the langu.age of The Three Ages is to be under-stood as expressing doctrine t~at is certain only in a limited and relative sense, I. was deceived, and my labor was in vain. Perhaps also some other readers will be misled too. It seems sufficient, therefore, to notice 'very briefly only what in Father Hughes's reply is most relevant to my four principal criti-cisms, and not to say more about certain matters in which he' has mistaken my meaning. Nor shall I advert further to several expres-. sions suggestive of what I would disclaim. Those four contentions were: "'The Three Ages is theoretical rather 'than practical; it is one-sided and narrow; an essential part of it, namely, its doctrine of the gifts of the Holy Spirit, is uncertain; and its main thesis is not after all really so significant" (p. 302). I shall follow the order in which Father Hughes deals with them. First, the gifts. As a simple and practical way of ending this ¯ particular argument, I will give to Father Hughes, if he wishes, a list of all the leading theologians of the twentieth century with their works and the appropriate references to what they teach on the giftsl Then he can see at once in black and white whether Catholic theo-logians agree in proposing as certain, in the usual sense, any such elaborate theory of them as that in The Three Ages. These theo-logians will embody, in varying degrees and ways of course, the present mind of the Church; they will be quite conversant with the altogether unique authority of St. Thomas, and they will be aware also of whatever else is pertinent. In [hem, considered adequately and properly, not merely arithmetically, will be found accumulated Catholic theological wisdom in its most mature and authoritative form. When the theologians, who are the most competent to judge in a question of this kind, are as greatly divided and as uncertain as 91 FATHER ELLARD'8 REPLY Review for Religious they actually are, on what evidence could particular persons come to certain knowledge in the matter? Possibly they can; but indeed it seems most unlikely. When the authorities disagree or "are not posi-tive, it would seem wise for individual persons to suspend judgment. If, as Father Hughes seems to agree, the two Thomistic doctrines on the efficacy of grace and the nature of the gifts stand or fall together, then most emphatically are theologians divided. As for the Doctors' of the. Church, the Augustinians claimed St. Augustine for their view on grace; and both Dominicans and Jesuits appealed to St. Augustine and St. Thomas. "Among the more modern Doctors, St. Alphonsus de' Liguori is cited for a modified version of the Augustinian theory; and St. Robert Bellarmine for the Jesuits. According to Von Pastor, St. Francis de Sales declared, in a memo-randum written for Pope Paul V, "that on the whole he shared the view of the Jesuits; and he added that he had made an exhaustive study of the subject, and that he saw considerable difficulties in either opinion, He did not think the time had come for deciding a question on which so many able scholars were unable to agree." (History oF the Popes, XXV, 240.) These facts concerning the controversy on grace are given, not with any intention of arguing such a matter in these pages, but simply to show that, if Father Garrigou-Lagrange's teaching on the gifts is logically involved in this highly disputed sub-ject, surely it cannot be called certain. Father Hughes writes: "Many Dominican theologians are cited as recognizing a controversy upon the matter [of the gifts], but the conclusions of each do not seem worthyof mention by Father Ellard" (p. 82). In the writings referred to I have not noticed any con-clusions contradictory either to the statements quoted from them or to the proposition in substantiation of which the citations were made. If Father Hughes should point out any such conclusion, I shall be glad to acknowledge it. Of course the same five theologians can be quoted in favor of the Thomistic theory of the gifts, and two of them for the certainty of it, for example, Gardeil in th~ Dictionnaire de Theolo~Tie, IV-2, 1776, 1777, and Garrigou-Lagrange himself, in PerFection Chretienne et Contemplation, II, [88-91]; neverthe-less, they witness the fact of disagreement among theologians and admit that others do not share their own view. Secondly, I said of The Three Aoes that it is one-sided and nar-row. Father Hughes replies that it is in accord, if not with lesser lights, at least with St. John of the Cross, the great and ultimate 92 March, 1950 FATHER ELLARD'S REPLY (relative) norm in this matter. But the same agreement is claimed by other authors also, among them tw6 Carmelite spokesmen. In other words, there is more than one interpretation of St. John among orthodox Catholics. ."But Father Garrigou-Lagrange has the right one." Perhaps he has; but we might be better, convinced if he would give us a chance to judge for ourselves. Could he not at least give us fair notice of dissenting opinions?. A fresh sample of div.ergenc~ is furnished by Father Gabriel of St. Mar.y Magdalen in his new book, St. Teresa o~: desus. Although he writes, "'For all that, it can be shown in fact that this teaching of the Teresian school is not irreconcilable with the modern Thomist synthesis of the spiritual life" (p. 44), yet repeatedly throughout - the book he contradicts Father Garrigou-Lagrange on the necessity of infused contemplation. The first point in my criticism reads: "'Tile Three Ages is theo-retical rather than practical." Of all, this was the least important, especially as instruction and inspiration are also in their own way most practical. Father Hughes objects: "The method of The Three Ages cannot rather 'stress theory than practice' if its principal excel-lence is 'its inspirational value,' and if 'a reader feels his heart warmed and his enthusiasm enkindled.' " Why not? In this respect the work resembles treatises on dogmatic theology which are preoccu-pied with doctrine rather than practice and which can at least be bigh.~y inspiring. Again my critic writes: The book "can scarcely be labeled as more given to 'metaphysics than psychology' when the author keeps reminding his readers of the grand" dogmas of Christianity, their 'infinite elevation,' their implications for our 'affective and practical lives.' " The answer is. simple. When a book contains dogmatic, metaphysical, and psychological elements, why cannot it accentuate them in just that order? As a matter of fact, The Three Ages does. I cannot imagine how Father Hughes can say: "In the case of mental prayer, concrete details appeal to Father Ellard as the source of certitude." My final contention was that the main thesis of The Three A~Tes, namely, that infused contemplation comes within the normal devel-opment of the interior life, is not after all very significant. It would be pregnant with meaning and significance if according to the mind of its author it were intended to im'ply that mystical contemplation in the full and obvious sense as described by St. Teresa in The 93 FATHER ELLARD'S REPLY Review/or Religious Interior Castle is normally to be expected. St. Teresa's terminology is used and one anticipates sbmething very wonderful. But then one finds out that only "what is essential" is promised us, and that seems much less indeed. Such language is surely apt to deceive the less wary. On this point, the climax of everything, Father Hughes has sur-prisingly little. I was careful not to deny the thesis of the nor-mality of mystical contemplation, or the unity of the interior life, or even to call them in question, except insofar as the thesis is pre-sented as a corollary from the theory of the gifts. Of course I am not suggesting that the tiniest bit of infused con-templation is not a most precious grace. It is, by all means. Rather, the question is whether the mysticism which Father Garrigou- Lagra~nge holds out in prospect for us is the same as the substantive sublime graces depicted in St. Teresa's Mansions and in St. 3ohn's Spiritual Canticle and The Living Flame. It seems highly fitting that I should add a word on two personal references that some readers will resent. I used a quotation in which Scotus was called '~the Subtle Doctor." There appears to be no reason for the depreciatory language which my critic uses. Scotus was one of the most influential of all Scholastic philosophers and theologians; for centuries innumerable times he has been referred to as "the Subtle Doctor" in more or less the same way that St. Thomas is termed "the Angelic Doctor." There was no suggestion at all that he is a Doctor of the Church; yet he is great enough to have been the theologian to whom above all others under the providence of God the Church owes the dogma of the Immaculate Conception. Likewise it seems inexplicable that Poulain, the author of The Graces of Interior Prayer, A Treatise on Mystical Theology, should be referred to with these words: "apparently not a theologian, how-ever proficient a psychologist" (p. 89). True, Poulain was not a dogmatic theologian, and his design in writing on mystical the-ology was different from that of Father Garrigou-Lagrange, but his work is in certain respects, especially for an account of the facts of mysticism and for practical help in direction, of first-class worth and thus far unsurpassed. To conclude: if I am right in taking Father Hughes to mean that the doctrine of the gifts is to be considered certain only in a relative and limited sense, and not with the obvious and proper force of that term, then on the'chief point we are in agreement. If not, I would 94 March, 19 5 0 COMMUNICATIONS say to readers who have followed this criticism 'and countercriticism, especially if they have actually read The Three Ages, andpr.eferably against the background of Saints Teresa and 3ohn of the Cross: "I speak to men of reflection; judge for yourselves of what I say" (I Cor. 10:lS).--G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD, S.J. ommun{caldons Reverend Fathers: A few years ago in an issue of Emmanuel the reviewer of one of the books of Father Garrigou-Lagrange expressed his doubt of the truth of the characteristic doctrines of that eminent theologian, at the same time stating his hope that a more thorough criticism would be made in a lengthier review. That same doubt and hope have been felt by many who read Christian Perfection and Contemplation and The Three Ages of the Interior Life. In those works the views of the author on some points of dogmatic and of mystical theology were stated in such a way that the reader if not versed in these matters would conclude that these particular views are not seriously disputed by competent Catholic theologians. But they are disputed, and to bring out this fact, as Father Ellard has done in his review of The Three Ages of the Interior Life in your November, 1949, issue, is to render a real service to the reader of these valuable spiritual books. The truth that some of Father (3arrigou-Lagrange's theories are disputed, and are not part of Cath-olic doctrine nor the unanimous opinions of theologians will not hurt anyone. Veritas vos liberabit. In emphasizing the disputed character of .these opinions of the gifted.writer, it is not intended in any way, I am sure, to imply that he has deliberately misled his readers. But Father Garrigou-Lagrange has led the majo.r portion of his life in the midst of skilled theo-logians. He naturally and unconsciously keeps them in mind as he writes. Yet what he writes is being read by many who are n~;t versed in even the fundamentals of theology and who consequently may easily be misle.d by his statement, of his positions. For the general public a clearer statement of what is general Catholic doctrine and what. is not, is certainly desirable. May I add a personal note? After some experience in directing 95 SUMMER SESSIONS ReVietO [or Religi,,os souls who have undoubtedly received the gift of infused contempla-tion, I find it difficult.to believe that Father Garrigou-Lagrange has any real concept, of infused contemplation at all. Everything he writes leads me to believe that he is really thinking and speaking of that prayer which is variously called "acquired contemplation," "the prayer of ~implicity," etc. There is an essential distinction between this simplification of discursive prayer and infused contemplation; and that distinction, I believe, cannot be understood merely from ¯ reading the works of mystical writers or theologians. I thoroughly agree with the Benedictine' who said 'that "the conception that St. John of the Cross had of mysticism and contemplation entirely escaped" the gifted author of Tile Three Ages. No harm can come from giving testimony to the inexactitude of Father Garrigou-Lagrange's distinction between Catholic doctrine and the theories of certain theologians; nor to the incorrectness of his understanding of the fundamental nature of infused contempla-tion.-- A SECULAR PRIEST. [EDITORS' NOTE: Further communications concerning Father Ellard's appraisal.of The Three Ages will be acgepted. These communications should be kept as brief as the subject-matter permits. If at all possible, they should be neatly typed, double-spaced, with generous margin. The sender should sign his name; and the name will be printed unless the content is of a personal nature.] SUMMER SESSION The Plus X School of Liturgical Music, founded by the late Mother Georgia Stevens, will conduct its Thirty-Fourth Summer Session: June 29-Augtist 10. Registration is open to men and women, whether as students matriculated for the B.A. or B.Mus., degrees, or as non-matriculated students; resident and non-resident. Courses will be offered in Gregorian Chant, Gregorian Accompaniment, Con-ducting, Polyphony, Liturgical Singing, Vocal Production, History of Music, Keyboard Harmony,. Music Education, Counterpoint, .etc. Members of the Staff have been long trained in the traditions of Solesmes and have national and international pedagogical experience and recognition. Private lessons in organ, piano, and singing may be procured. Membership is held by the School in the National Association of Schools of Music and it enjoys the official approval of the most eminent music organizations. According to a long-established custom there will be lectures by prominent musicologists and the usual s, eries of weekly concerts. Students will be given the opportunity of~active particip.ation in the Liturgy by the congrega- 96 March, 1950 BOOK REVIEWS tional singing of Holy Mass, Vespers, Compline, and Benediction. The Very Reverend Monsignor Frederic Teller, D.D., Ph.D.,C.G.M. will teach some courses. The Ve.ry Reverend Monsignor Martin B. Hellriegel, of the Church of the Holy Cross, St. Louis, Mo., and the Reverend 3ohn 3. Dougherty, S.T.L.,S.S.D. of the Immaculate Con-ception Seminary, D~rlington, N. 3, will give daily lectures on the Liturgy throughout the Session. For further information write to: Mother Aileen Cohalan, Director, Manhattanville College of the Sacred Heart, New York 27, New York. Book Reviews THE MOTHER OF THE SAVIOR AND OUR INTERIOR LIFE. By Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, O.P. Translated by Bernard J. Kelly, C.S.Sp. Pp. 338. B. Herder Book C;o., St. Lou~s, M~ssourL $4.00. The theological and d~votional literature about the Blessed Virgin is so extensive that .a new synthesis by a capable author is highly welcome: Father Garrigou-Eagrange published such a syn-thesis in 1941 (reprinted in 1948). The present translation from thd French makes his book available for the la.rge number of readers who have come to value his works in English versions. The book is divided into two parts. The first part, on "The Divine Maternity and the Plenitude of Grace," is doctrinal. It aims at imparting knowledge about Our Lady and her unique position, in subordination to her divine Son, at the very summit of creation and the supernatural order. The pre-eminence of the divine mater-nity, which dominates all Mariology as the source and end of all Mary's great gifts, is very clearly brought out. Here and there a line of reasoning is pursued that is not very convincing: but strictly theo-logical procedures are hardly to be expected in a work that is more devotional in spirit than scientific. The second part, on "Mary, Mother of all Men: Her Universal Mediation and our Interior Life," demonstrates Mary's activity in the plan of redemption and the important causality she exercises in our salvation and sanctification. In view of the character of the volume, the author has wisely refrained from entering into the contemporary debate among theo-logians on the precise meaning and function of Mary as co-redemp- 97 BOOK R~VlEWS Review [or Religious trix, contenting himself with general expressions that should prove acceptable to all parties in the controversy. The main source for the theological presentation is Merkelbach's well-known Mariologia. But the Fathers, the great Scholastics and their later successors, spiritual writers, orators, and Popes are called upon to yield up their treasures. Many gems have been contributed by Saints Ambrose, Sophronius, Andrew of Crete, Ephrem, and Peter Damien. Saints Bernard, Albert the Great, Bonaventure, Thomas Aquinas, Alphonsus, Grignon de Montfort, and Francis de Sales have all offered their riches. Suarez, Terrien, Dublanchy, le Bachelet, and Hugon have generously thrown open their books. And these great names represent but a sampling of the numerous sources consulted and utilized. The encyclicals of Popes Leo XIII, Pius X, Benedict XV, and Plus XI manifest the mind of the Church on recent Mariological doctrine. The Polish Dominican, Justin of Mi~chow, provides the inspiration for one of the finest chapters in the book, "Special Aspects of Mary's Queenship." The article on the Rosary sheds fresh light on that welt-loved devotion, and sug-gests a way of practicing it that will be profitable to all Catholics. The translator has done his part admirably. Comparison with the French edition shows how faithful Father Kelly has been to the orig!nal. If we did not know that the English edition is a transla-tion, we could hardly guess that fact from reading the book. And that is the supreme criterion of the translator's success. CYRIL VOLLERT, S.J. IGNATIAN METHODS OF PRAYER. By Alexandre Brou, S.J. Translated by William J. Young, S.J. Pp. xl ~ 203. The Bruce Publishing Com-pany, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, 1949. $3.00. The aim of this book is very clearly stated by the author when he tells us that he set out to discover "what exactly did St. Ignatius want to say, and what did he say" on the subject of prayer. The word "discover" is used purposely, for the many commentators on St. Ignatius have not always clarified his thought nor passed it on unadulterated to their readers. Father Brou observes: "Now it some-times happens that with'the best intentions in the World his thought has been misunderstood. Authors . . . have viewed the teachings of the Saint through a mist of commentary, and a commentator never fails to add something to his text" (p. vii). Father Brou gdes back to sdurces, the text of the Spiritual Exer-cises, and he interprets them in the light of Stl Ignatius' personal March, 1950 BOOK REVIEWS letters, supplementing his findings with. the writings of intimate con-temporaries of the Saint--St. Francis Xavier, Blessed Peter Faber, Father Nadal--to mention but three. The work is divided into four main divisions. In the first St. Ignatius' teaching on prayer and the interior life, the ,relation of prayer to the apostolate, seeking God in all things, the presence of God, and finally mystical prayer are treated. The second and third parts are devoted to the preparations for prayer and the so-called methods of prayer respectively, while the fourth part treats the coun-sels for the time during and after prayer, and tl~e rules for the dis-cernment of spirits. Two features of the teachin'g of.St. Ignatius as presented in this book are noteworthy. First is the continuity ot: practically every portion of the Ignatian teaching with a tradition of Catholic spirit-uality which he both inherited and developed into the forms found in the Exercises. The other is what we might call the compatibility of high prayer with the active life of the apostolate. Great mystic ¯ that he was, SI~. Ignatius was eminently a man of the active aposto-late, what we would call nowadays a man of affairs. He conceived the man of affairs as a man of prayer, and a life of prayer as not at all incompatible with a full daily schedule. "To St. Francis Borgia he asserts that it is more perfect to be able to find God everywhere and in all things than to have need of an oratory and long prayers to enter into union with Him" (p. 39). The book combines the excellent qualities of thoroughness and brevity. It can be r~ad and reread with profit.--T. L. McNAIR, S.J. LITTLE CATECHISM OF PRAYER. By Father Gabr;el of St. Mary Mag-dalen, O.C.D. Transla÷ed by ÷he Discalced Carmelite Nuns. Pp. 44. Monastery of Discalced Carmelites, Concord, New Hampshire, 1949. $.2S (paper). People in general who cultivate mental prayer and v.ery particu-larly all those who would like to practice it in the spirit and after the manner of the Carmelites, traditional leaders in matters of the contemplative life, will welcome this Little Catechism. In six chap-ters and eighty-nine questions it introduces one to "prayer in the contemplative life," "the methbd of mental prayer," "preparation and reading," "meditation and colloquy," "difficulties in prayer," and "the presence of God." There is nothing theoretical or learned or meticulously precise about it. Evidently it is meant, as its title suggests, to be a simple and practical primer. On the other hand 99 BOOK NOTICES Review for Religious there "are thoughts in it which would be helpful and inspiring, I should say, to almost anyone, even tb contemplatives far advanced in the ways of prayer and sanctity. For instance, from the very first page one might learn this distinction between the Christian life and the contemplative life: the good Christian "lives /:or God," whereas the contemplative soul "lives not only for God, but also with God." Likewise it is emphasized at the very beginning in a quotation from St. Teresa that to reach the higher degrees of prayer one must per-force add the practice of mortification, "because prayer and comfort do not go together."--G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD, S.,J. BOOK NOTICES BLESSED MARIA GORETTI: Martyr for Purity, by 3ohn Cart, C.SS.R., is an admirable life of the twentieth-century martyr whom the Holy Father intends to canonize in the course of the present holy year. Blessed Maria sets an ideal before modern youth who live in an atmosphere so perilous to purity. (Dublin: Clonmore ~ Reynolds, Ltd., 1949. Pp. 70. 3/6.) Father Louis I. Fanfani, O.P., an outstanding modern canonist, has published a third edition of DE IURE RELIGIOSORUM. While keeping all the good qualities of previous editions, the book has been brought up to date and considerably increased in volume. A separate chapter is devoted to the newly established Secular Institutes. Four important documents are added by way of appendices: I. The new Norrnae of 1921; II. Letter of the Sacred Congregation of. Religious of 1931 on the formation and training of religi6us for sacred orders; III. Instruction on the enclosure of nuns with solemn vows issued in 1924; and, IV. The Statutes for Extert~ Sisters of monasteries of nuns, approved by Pope Pius XI in 1929 an'd published by the Sacred Congregation of Religious two years later. These documents are given in the original Latin text. (Rovigo, Italy: .Istituto Padano di Arti Grafiche, 1949. Pp. xxxi + 810. L. 2000.) OUR ETERNAL VOCATION, written anonymously by a Carmelite nun in England, is intended for all, priests, religious, or laity, who are interested in attaining higher sanctity. Of its three main sections, the first treats of sanctity in gener.al, its meaning, its instruments, its fruits (pp. 9-135). The second is concerned with religious voca-tion in particular (pp. 135-177). The last tells about the sanctity and mission of St. Therese of Lisieux (pp. 177-207). The doctrine seems to be solid throughout and Jr'is presented palatably by a crisp style tinged With feeling and garnished with 100 March, 195 0 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS striking illustrations. The book contains some shrewd psychology on the value of sincerity in attaining holiness, on methods of over-coming mental depression, on the natural requisites for a religious vocation. As might be expected, the author emphasizes the "Iittle way" of St. Therese, but she does not derogate from other methods of acquiring sanctity. (Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Press, 1949. Pp. 207, $2.25.) BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS [These notices are purely descriptive, based on a cursory examination of the books listed. Some of the books will be reviewed or will be given longer notices later. The list is complete up to Feb. 10.] CARMELITE THIRD'ORDER PRESS, 6427 Woodlawn Avenue, Chi-. cago 37. Take This Scapulart. By Carmelite Fathers and Tertiaries. Pp. 270. $2.50. Unfolds the story of Our Lady's Scapular. FRANCISCAN HERALD PRESS, 1434 W. 51st Street, Chicago. Tertiar~ Office of the Parers. Pp. 103. $.50 (30% discount for orders of 25 or more). A vest-pocket booklet of aids in reciting the office prepared especially for members of the Third Order of St. Francis. Also contains the Seraphic Office, the Office of the Pas-sion, and the Franciscan Tertiary Office with reflections. M. H. GILL ~ SON, Ltd., 50 Upper O'Connell Street, Dublin. Fair as the Moon. By Father M. Oliver, O.Cist.R. Pp. xi -b 235. 12s. 6d. A portrait of Mary, the Mother of God and "Purest of Creatures." Catherine McAule~I: The First Sister of Mercy. Pp. x ÷ 434. 15/-. "This book, the fruit of considerable research, is based largely on hitherto unpublished document's, and throws fresh light on Cath-erine McAuley's life and work." [5. HERDER BOOK COMPANY, St. Louis 2, Missouri. Ps~/cbiatq/and Asceticism. By Felix D. Duffey, C.S.C. Pp. 132. $2.00. True Stories for First Communicants. Pp. 80. $1.25. First Communion Davis. Pp. 96. $1.25. Both by a Sister of Notre Dame. True stories which should help children in preparing for their first Communion and after. The books were first printed in 1919 and 1920 respectively. The Life of Our Lord Jesus Christ. Two volumes. By Maurice 101 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS for Religiou* Meschler, S.J. Pp. xxii q-- 545 arid viii -b 551. $12.00 (set). Translated by Sister Mary Margaret, O.S.B. This is the fifth edi-tion of the author's well-known meditations on the life of Christ. LEMOYNE COLLEGE PRESS, LeMoyne Heights, Syracuse 3, New York. Inigo de Logola. By Pedro Leturia, S.J. Pp. xiii + 209. $4.50. The story of the early life of St. Ignatius up to and including his conversion. LIBRERIA FRANCESCO FERRARI, Via dei Cestari, 2, Kome, Italy. Manuale Tbeorico-Practicurn Tbeologiae Moralis ad Mentern D. Thomae. By Father Louis J. Fanfani, O.P. Pp. xix + 648. This is the first of a set of three volumes. It treats of man's last end, human acts, laws, conscience, the virtues, sins, and censures. It is planned to complete the set within the course of the year. LITURGICAL PRESS, St. John's Abbey, Collegeville, Minnesota. Life. and Miracles of St. Benedict. By Pope St. Gregory the Great. Translated by Odo J. Zimmermann, O.S.B., and Benedict R.Avery, O.S.B. Pp. xv q- 87. $2.00 (cloth); $.90 (paper). A translation of Book Two of the Dialogues of St. GregorY. MCLAUGHLIN ~ REILLY, 45 Franklin Street, Boston 10. When the People Sang. By Marie Pierik. Pp. 32. $.50 (paper). "A simple treatise on the Gregorian Chant, its history and use." NEWMAN PRESS, Westminster, Maryland. Treatise on Prager and Meditation. By St. Peter of Alcantara. Translated by Dominic Devas, O.F.M. Pp. xx ÷ 211. $2.50. Besides this classic treatise on prayer, the book contains an introdtic-tion and sketch of the saint's life and a complete English version of Pax Anirnae, a treatise formerly attributed to the saint. The Spiritual Life of the Priest. By M. Eugene Boylan, O.C.R. Pp. 161. $2.50. A reprint of a series of articles which first appeared in the pages of The Priest. The Holg Year of Jubilee. By Herbert Thurston, S.J. Pp. xxiv -[- 420. $4.25. An account of the history and ceremonial of the Roman jubilee. Contains many illustrations. First printed in 1900. The Wag of Divine Love. Pp. xxxvii q- 532. $4.25. A com-plete account of the revelations of the Sacred Heart as made to Sister Josefa Menendez, Coadjutrix Sister of the Society of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. There is also a short biography of the Sister and an analytical index. 102 March, 1950 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Purgatorg and the Means to AvoidIt. By Martin Jugie, A.A. Pp. 203. $3.25. A doctrinal and devotional treatment of a subject that is of interest to all. The book is translated from the seventh French edition by Malachy Gerard Carroll. The Life and Revelations of Saint Gertrude: Virgin and Abbess, of the Order of St. Benedict. Pp. xlv + 570. $4.00. A reprinting of an old favorite which first appeared some eighty years ago. Prager for All Times. By Pierre Charles, S.J. Translated by Maud Monahan. Foreword by C. C. Martindale, S.J. Pp. 328. $3,50. A book on prayer designed "to mak~ smooth the ways of the spirit and to unfold the eternal message of the nearness of God." Little Catechism of the Act of Oblation of St. Th~r~se of the Child Jesus. By the Carmelites of Lisieux. Translated by Rev. Mi-chael Collins, A.M. Pp. 22. $.25. PROVINCE OF ST. JOSEPH OF THE CAPUCHIN ORDER, 1740 Mt. EI-liott Avenue, Detroit, Michigan. Meditations: Volume I: Advent to Ash Wednesday. By Bernar-dine Goebel, O.F.M.Cap. Translated from the German by Berch- "mans Bittle, O.F.M.Cap. Pp. 537. $3.50 (paper). ST. CATHARINE JUNIOR COLLEGE LIBRARY, St. Catharine, Ken-tucky. The Catholic Booklist 1950. Edited by Sister SteIla Marls, O.P., for the Catholic Library Association. Pp. 74. $.65 (paper). "An annotated bibliography, for the most part Catholic in authorship or subject matter, chosen as a guide to the recreational and instructional reading of Catholics." UNIVERSITY OF NOTRE DAME PRESS, Notre Dame, Indiana. The Christfan Vfrtues. By Charles E. Sheedy, C.S.C. Pp. xi q- 361. $3.00. A book on moral theology for college students and lay readers. God and the World of Man. By Theodore M. Hesburgh, C.S.C. Pp. viii -}- 318. $3.00. A theological text for the layman. Treat-ises on faith, God, the Trinity, creation, the elevation and fall of .man, the end of the world and man. JOSEPH F. WAGNER, INC., 53 Park Place, New York 7. --Must It be Communism? By Augustine J. Osgniach, O.S.B. Pp. x -]- 486. A philosophical inquiry into the major issues of today. The last three chapters are by Jerome L. Toner, O.S.B. 103 .uestdons and Answers We have an application from a woman who has obtained a permanent separation from her husband and now wishes to try out the religious llfe. Creusen, ReBgious Men and H/omen ~n the Code, p. 135, states: "A wife abandoned by her husband., does not need his consent to enter, rell-gion. One may see in R.C.R., 1939, under what conditions her entry into religion may be obtained." Please tell us what R.C.R. stands for, and, if convenient, give us a summary of the conditions referred to. R.C.R. refers to a review for religious published in Belgium by Father Creusen and his associates under the title Reoue des Commun-autos Religieuses (53 rue Royale, Brussels, Belgium). Here is a sum-mary of what Father Creusen wrote in the answer referred to. (1) The aspirant must not have been in any way the gravely culpable cause of the separation. (2) There must be moral certitude that she cannot be forced legally to abandon the religious life in order to resume married life. A civil divorce is the best guarantee. (For this the bishop's permission should be obtained.) (3) If the appli-cant has children, their care and support will have to be guar~inteed. (4) The superior of an institute or monastery who is willing to accept her on trial must be convinced that she has an extraordinary vocation and that there are particular reasons to anticipate her perse-verance. If all these conditions are fulfilled, the person in question may appeal to the Holy See for the necessary dispensation. She should do so personally. To this personal appeal a letter of recommenda-tion from her bishop should be added. This recommendation should be given at least regarding the good character of the person, even though the bishop does not wish to support her application for the dispensation. Finally, a letter from the religious superior who is willing to accept the candidate, stating that she believes the applicant to have an extraordinary vocation and that the community is willing to receive her on trial, will complete the official documents required. A baptismal certificate of the applicant and a copy of the decree of civil divorce ~hould be sent along with the other documents. Father Creusen concludes his answer with the following para-graph: "It must be added that the Holy See shows itself very prudent and very reserved in granting this dispensation. The utmost good will in the beginning is far, it seems, from guaranteeing perseverance 104 QuEs-r~o~s ~no ANswrRs in vocations of this kind. It is useless to encourage the application without exceptional reasons." Canon law cjrants to superiors the rlgttf #o extend: (I) the posfulancy, but not beyond six months (canon 539, § 2); (2) the time of the novif~ofe, but not beyond six months {canon 571, § 2); (3~ the period of temporary vows, but

Issue 68.3 of the Review for Religious, 2009. ; ~Spiritu.a~ Growth ,~. --.,,Practicall~ Wisdom'iQ-UAoRFERLY 68.3 2009 - " Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul Vl said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih reviewrfr@gmail.com ¯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 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. ©2009 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 Ca~ho~c ~piri~uah~y Editor Associate Editor Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho sJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis ~nd Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 68.3 2009 contents prisms 228 Prisms 230 consecrated life stories. ~'~ I! The Impact of Women Religious on the Church of New York Regina Bechde SO, two centuries after New York became a large suffragan diocese of Baltimore, recounts its history-- which, as in dioceses everywhere, is inseparable from stories of its women religious. Looking for what was really going on, she finds the faith-meaning underneath the sisters' social and ecclesial achievements. 226 250 261 ignatian prayer Communal Examen Philip Shano SJ suggests ~ way of adapting the general examen found in the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises to a communal examen that can help the community as a group to attend to its daily life in a prayerful w~y. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem Louis M. Savary re-examine.s how Ignatius's Fourth Week contemplation asks us to observe closely the way God loves us and to put into practice our love of God and the rest of creation in a similarly unconditional .and generous way. A Prayer Response Review for Religious 276 289 298 spiritual growth Job's Difficult Transformation Marian Maskulak CPS, making grateful use of Stephen Mitchell's The Book of Job, explores the spiritual changes Job undergoes and suggests their relevance to ourselves. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection The Central Paradox of John of the Cross James W. Kinn presents and, like a good teacher, emphasizes John's teaching for proficient beginners. Connecting through Prayer John H. Zupez SJ suggests a way of praying that gives us a greater sense of connectedness to God and to one another in our lives. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection 3O6 313 practical wisdom When Pragmatists Become Mystics Rabbi Allen S. Mailer shares a variety of Hassidic wisdom sayings for our inspiration and for the deepening of our faith. AGame You Should Not Play Birney Dibble MD discusses the candor that people often find difficult around terminally ill patients. departments 318 Scripture Scope: Understanding the Psalms 323 Reviews 22 7 68.3 2009 prisms 228 Tsis a landmark issue of Review for Religious. You as reader will note that there is no Canonical Counsel article. From the first volume of our journal in January 1942 there was a department called Questions and Answers that dealt primarily with canon law issues for men and women liv-ing consecrated or religious life. The writer of this department was not identified. Likely the editor was the canon lawyer Father Adam C. Ellis SJ, one of the three founding editors. In volume 14 (September 1955) we find the first acknowledgment of an author for the Questions and Answers department. "The fol-lowing answers are given by Father Joseph E Gallen SJ, professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland." As a matter of fact, it seems that Father Gallen had already been doing the work in a couple of preceding issues. He was also a consistent contributor of articles dealing with canon law perspectives or with the implications of recently issued Roman documents throughout the decades from 1950 to 2000. In volume 44 (January 1985) Father Richard A. Hill sJ, professor of canon law at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley, began writ-ing the newly titled Canonical Counsel arti-cle. After five years as contributing editor for Canonical Counsel, Father Hill asked to be relieved because of his responsibilities at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley and at the University of San Francisco. Review for Religious In volume 49 (July/August 1990) Sister Elizabeth McDonough OP became our Canonical Counsel editor. From that issue up to our past issue (68.2, 2009) she has contributed one hundred articles dealing with all aspects of the 1983 Code of Canon Law dealing with conse-crated or religious life. She literally has written a valuable commentary on the Code for all of us living consecrated life. Sister Elizabeth McDonough believes that she has completed her task, and has said she would appreciate having more time for her teaching and other writing. As of this issue, then, we have no department of Questions and Answers or its successor Canonical Counsel. As edi-tor, I hope that we will have occasional articles to update us on canonical issues as they may arise. I express my deep gratitude to Sister Elizabeth McDonough for her masterful contribution to religious life through this journal. Besides the fact that she writes clearly and concisely, I as editor was especially apprecia-tive at how prompt she was to meet every deadline over this twenty-year period. It is our intention that Review for Religious will publish the compilation of McDonough's Canonical Counsel articles as a readable disc/book in the fall of 2009. We intend that the disc-form of the book will allow for valuable and easy reference. Without trying to replace Canonical Counsel as a department, my advisory board encourages me and the staff to consider regular contributions in the liturgical area, especially with the revision of the missal, and also regarding the continuing development of new forms of religious life and affiliations. So the journal hopes to keep contributing to our living of religious life and our sharing it with the wider church. David L. Fleming SJ 229 68.3 2009 REGINA BECHTLE The Impact of Women Religious on the Church of New York consecrated life stories On a spring day in 2008, I stood in the majes-tic St. Patrick's Cathedral amid representatives of the 116 congregations of women religious serving in the archdiocese of New York. In the processional hymn, Benedictine Sister Delores Dufner's "Sing a New Church," we sang "summoned by the God who made us, rich in our diversity, gathered in the name of Jesus, richer still in unity." These words of struggle, promise, and affirmation can only hint the reality of women religious in dioceses all through the United States. Our story is indeed a rich and diverse one, focused in a grand unity.! The year 2008 marks the bicentennial of the establishment of four dioceses--New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Bardstown (Kentucky)--and Baltimore's designation as an archdiocese. The church in New York serves Regina Bechtle SC is Charism Resource Director for the Sisters of Charity of New York; 6301 Riverdale Avenue; Bronx, New York 10471. R~iew for Religious two and a half million Catholics in ten counties, from the urban density of Manhattan and the Bronx, to an underserved rural population in the north. The story of this diocese, like dioceses everywhere, is inseparable from the story of its women religious.2 The bicentennial invited us all to reimagine our story within the story of larger social and ecclesial movements, movements we helped shape and were shaped by. Let me suggest an image. Our seminary's excellent library holds many books about religious congregations and provinces connected with this archdiocese. Some use the pious, purple prose of the glory days, others pack a more modern, journalistic punch. But they all tell how communities came here, what needs confronted them, and what they did about those needs. Imagine all those volumes on the shelves, flanked by histories of the church in this country and region, bolstered by studies of the many immigrants who came here and by surveys on education, public health, child care, human services, pastoral ministry, catechesis, lay leadership, spiritual for-marion, race relations, community development, advo-cacy and action for peace and justice, environmental concerns, and global awareness. Now imagine all those volumes in conversation with one another, comparing, connecting, cross-referencing. Only an eavesdropper on all of those conversations could write the full story of women religious, the meta-story that cries out to be told in each diocese and in the country at large. My purpose here is modest. I speak not as an histo-rian but as a theologian and spiritual director who tries to listen both to a person's story and to the story under-neath the story. I listen to hear what is "happening" and what is "really going on." I propose to apply those questions to the stories of women religious in this and, 231 68.3 2009 Bechtle ¯ The Impaa of Women Religious in New York mutatis mutandis, other dioceses.3 What was happening during those many years? And what was "really going on"? In other words, how was God at work in it? How do we measure impact? I suggest we measure',impact by the tributes of a socie : 232 Measuring Impact First, a word about the meaning of "impact." For New Yorkers, the searing memory of 11 September 2001, of giant planes crashing into the World Trade Center's towers, forever colors the word's meaning. Yet over its lifetime this city, like most others, has absorbed the impact of many other traumatic events--epidem-ics from yellow fever, cholera, and influenza to HIV/AIDS; fires and floods; riots and gang wars; economic upheavals and finan-cial despair; wartime anxiety and loss on the home front. How do we measure impact? In New York City, where real estate rules and media coverage makes you or breaks you, some judge impact in terms of stone and steel, of buildings constructed, renovated, retrofitted. Some measure impact by best sellers and column inches, by prime-time coverage and website hits. Others mea-sure impact in the flesh-and-blood realities of bodies blessed and bandaged, minds mentored, hearts healed, spirits sustained. Impact is about relatonships as much as headlines. I suggest we measure impact by the trib-utes of a society, like the tens of thousands who lined the streets in 1896 to honor the passing of Sister of Charity Mary Irene Fitzgibbon, founder of the New York Foundling and conscience of a city.* Review for Religious Impact is measured in the halls of Congress by Sister Patricia Cruise SC and Sister Mary Rose McGeady DC testifying about the runaway youth served by Covenant House; by the words of Sisters Patricia Wolf RSM, Regina Murphy SC, and Arlene Flaherty OP, whose advocacy on behalf of justice in shareholder meetings and public forums has heralded the gospel in our day; by the lumi-nous theological writings of Sister Elizabeth Johnson csJ; by Sister Theresa Kane RSM calling in 1979 on Pope John Paul II to hear the desire of women to participate fully in the church; and by the gunshots that murdered Maryknoll Sisters Maura Clarke MM and Ita Ford MM in 1980 in El Salvador and Sister Barbara Ford SC in 2001 in Guatemala; by the vision of Mother Irene Gill OSU, who in 1904 began the College of New Rochelle, the first Catholic college for women in New York State, and Mother Buder RSHM, who opened Marymount College in Tarrytown in 1907; by the steadfast peace witness of women like Sister Anne Montgomery RSCJ and Sister Eileen Storey SC in Iraq and the West Bank. Even this hard-to-impress city recognizes the impact of these exceptional women. Yet they would be the first to protest that the vast majority of their sisters, the thousands of women religious who have served the people of New York, have lived equally extraordinary lives, only in a less public sphere. The everyday impact of their faithfulness has been felt for generations by families, neighborhoods, parishes, and institutions that never make the headlines. What Was Happening? The Catholic historian Gary Macy describes history as "the stories that we tell ourselves so that we know better how we got to be who we are.''5 Before I address what was happening, let me make a few introductory 68.3 2009 Becbtle ¯ The lmpaa of Women Religious in New York remarks. It behooves us to tell the whole story, all of it, because that helps us to see who we are now and to believe we can be still better. We need to include the shadow as well as the light. We were instrtm~ents of social grace and social sin. We were victims of prejudice and injustice, but we were perpetrators as well. Until recently, women religious have not been telling our story well. Why not? One reason is that a certain understanding of the virtue of humility has conditioned us to be hesitant about promoting ourselves. Another reason might be that our entertainment-hungry, attention-deficient culture seems able to hear only a particularly loud voice. To tell what was happening, we might consider chapter headings like these for our story: ¯ Some Came and Stayed, Some Passed Through and Left Their Mark ¯ With Their Own Blood, Sweat, Tears-- and Money ¯ "Open a Hospital? But We Thought You Wanted Us to Teach" ¯ They Don't Trust Catholics, but They Want Sisters' Care When They're Injured ¯ How Many Communities in This Diocese? Only God Knows! Some of our communities started here on the bed-rock of this ever-changing place. Most were seedlings transplanted from elsewhere into its stubborn soil. All soon found themselves irrevocably transformed. Some came to New York and moved on, up and down the Atlantic coast, or west, into the heartland and frontier. Some came and stayed here. There was always plenty of work to do here, no matter when they came. We can imagine a common story line that begins with a letter something like this: Revie~v for Religious Reverend Mother Superior: We beg you to send Sisters to take care of [one or more of the following kinds of needy persons]: orphans, uneducated, sick poor, abandoned infants, girls working as domestics who are being seduced by their employers, youngsters needing to learn a trade, elderly folks, homeless, families at risk, immigrants who can't speak the language, people hungry for food and knowledge, Catholics who need to be counted and catechized. Please come yourself if you can, Mother, or at least send us your best workers--the strongest, the bright-est, the most fearless. We need you desperately. Respectfully yours, Bishop or Pastor or Trustee Also part of the story line, though rarely found writ-ten down in the letters, are facts and observations like these: ¯ Never mind that the house won't be ready for you. You'll probably have to count on the hospitality of another community until you find your own. ¯ We can't promise you much money--you'll have to raise most of it yourself. ¯ You may end up as martyrs to cholera, dysentery, influenza, tuberculosis, and violence and to the poverty of the poor you came to serve. ° You may find that the demands of your work make it hard, even impossible, to live your Rule, your way of living and praying that you cherish so deeply.6 What was happening? Two hundred years ago, in 1808, John Carroll was breathing a sigh of relief, after a fashion. Since 1789 he had been bishop of the one diocese in the U.S.A, a territory that stretched from the Atlantic to the Mississippi and from Canada to the Spanish Floridas. Now Baltimore was named .an arch-diocese, and Carroll's pastoral burden was lessened by the creation of four suffragan dioceses.7 The New York diocese comprised all of New York I! 68.3 2009 Becbtle * The Impact of Women Religious in New York 236] State and part of New Jersey. The 80,000 inhabitants of New York included about 14,000 Catholics, mostly Irish, with some French and Germans, served by one Catholic parish, St. Peter's, on Barclay Street. In 1808 the non-Catholic majority of New Yorkers viewed the parish with disdain, and its mostly poor, immigrant con-gregation as uncouth, dirty, and decidedly lacking in proper religious sensibility. Also in 1808 a young widow was about to leave New York. She was a convert, and Catholic Baltimore seemed infinitely more hospitable than her native city, where the disdain could be hostile. I speak of Elizabeth Ann Bayley Seton, saint of New York. We cannot tell the story of women religious in this archdiocese without her, though she never lived here as a religious. The school she began in Baltimore became the catalyst for a new religious community. In July 1809, on donated land in Emmitsburg, in the Maryland hills, she (a Catholic for only four years) began the Sisters of Charity of Saint Joseph's. It was the first active women's congregation founded in and native to the United States. Elizabeth and her advisers modeled it on the noncloistered Daughters of Charity founded by Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac in 17th-century France, but they adapted the Rule to the circumstances and needs of 19th-century America. The language and faces Changed, but many of those needs remain today. To the Ursulines belongs the distinction of being the first women religious in the New World. They came to Canada in 1639 and to French New Orleans in 1727. Twelve nuns came from France to nurse, but soon found themselves teaching, caring for orphans, and working with wayward women. One of their novices wrote home: "We are determined not to spare ourselves Review for Religious in anything that will be for the greater glory of God.''8 Some Ursulines from Ireland came to New York in 1812, began a school that lasted only three years, and then returned home. In 1817, nine years after the diocese was established, Mother Seton yielded to the pleas of New York Catholics and sent, as a gift to her home church, three sisters to care for orphans in what was then St. Patrick's Cathedral parish on Mott and Prince Streets. At that time Catholics numbered about 20,000. Concerning the New York Catholics, Mother Seton wrote: "So much must depend . . . on who is sent to my 'native city' they say, not knowing that I am a citizen of the world.''9 Soon demands for sisters increased, as they were to do again and again in all our stories. Mother Seton had her native New York pegged: "so distracted a place." Later correspondents would be even more grim in their descrip-tion of the poverty, filth, and violence of the city in which sisters taught, nursed, and cared for orphans. Bishop John Hughes, known to friend and foe alike as "Dagger John," would later call New York "Babylon the Great." An estimated one-seventh of the city's population of 15,000 depended on public relief in the winter of 1817. By 1820, health and housing issues in the city were critical. In the economic slump after the War of 1812, a huge influx of immigrants and annual yellow-fever epidemics created what amounted to a continuous state of emergency.l° I To the, Ursulines belongs ,the distinction of being ' 'ihe first women religious in the New World, 68.3 2009 Becbtle * Tbe Impaa of Women Religious in New York 238 In 1827 Bishop John Dubois wrote that his flock included about 30,000 mostly poor Catholics, and com-plained ~that property in New York was very expensive. That same year several Religious of the Sacred Heart stopped in New York en route to St. Louis. In 1841 their congregation would return for good as the city's second religious community of women when Mother Aloysia Hardey opened on Houston.and Mulberry Streets an academy that would later move to Astoria. Catholic-and-immigrant is a recurring theme. In 1785, when St. Peter's Church was dedicated, people said the pastor needed to be fluent in six languages-- English, German, French, Spanish, Portuguese, and Irish--to serve his two hundred parishioners. Today Mass is celebrated in thirty-three languages in the New York archdiocese, and most large urban dioceses report similar statistics. The numbers of Irish and German immigrants com-ing in the 1830s brought strong anti-Catholic feeling to the surface. In 1836 The Awful Disclosures of Maria Monk was published, a slanderous account of cruelty and abuse in a Montreal nunnery. The falsity of it did nothing to keep it from becoming the best-selling American book before Uncle Tom's Cabin.~l Across the country, fear of immigrants and foreigners went together with a viru-lent opposition to Catholicism. The 1834 burning of an Ursuline convent in Charlestown, Massachusetts, was but one expression of anti-Catholic hatred. Yet, in the face of such rabid Nativist prejudice, over and over it was sisters--nursin.g, teaching, risking their lives for the poor--who gradually tempered society's perception of the church and of its immigrant flock. By 1848 one-third of New York's population was foreign born, swelled by thousands of Irish desperate to Review for Religious escape the terrible famine in their homeland. The eighty-two women religious in the diocese included a new group, the Sisters of Mercy. Mother M. Agnes O'Connor and six Sisters from Dublin, the "walking nuns," visited the sick in their homes, taught adults, took in young women seeking to escape from prosti-tution, and visited prisons. Mother Seton's daughter Catherine became one of their first postulants. In 1849 a cholera epidemic killed five thousand New Yorkers. In November of that year, the diocese's first Catholic hos-pital, St. Vincent's, opened with thirty beds, five doc-tors, and four Sisters of Charity. The needs of a rapidly expanding Catholic popula-tion prompted Rome to carve new dioceses from the see of New York: in 1847 Albany and Buffalo, and in 1853 Brooklyn (including all of Long Island) and Newark (including all of New Jersey). The area of the diocese of New York, named an archdiocese in 1850, had shrunk to one-tenth of its original size, but its people had grown to more than three hundred times its original number, between 300,000 and 400,000 Catholics?2 By 1855 over half of New York City's population was foreign born. It was known as the largest Irish city in the world and the third largest German city. In 1867 the Good Shepherd Sisters took in 275 young women who had been coerced into a life of pros-titution. Many of them were domestics whose employers By 1855; New York City ~as, known as the largest ,,Irish ,ei~in the World and the , third !argest German city, 23,9 68.3 2009 Becbtle * The Impact of FVomen Religious in Nay York had, in polite terms, ruined their reputations. Another 500 had to be turned away. In 1869 Sister Mary Irene Fitzgibbon SC opened the New York Foundling asylum. By the time of her death in 1896, this pioneer Catholic child-welfare agency had cared for 28,000 infants and many pregnant unwed and working mothers as well. By 1885 women religious supervised most of New York's child-welfare system, with more than eighty per-cent of its dependent children in their care. The New York Foundling (Sisters of Charity) and the Mission of the Immaculate Virgin (Sisters of St. Francis), the two largest institutions--along with those operated by Sisters of Mercy, of Divine Compassion, of Notre Dame, of the Good Shepherd, and others--provided a safe and caring environment for approximately 15,000 children.13 As needs grew, so did the religious work force. By 1875 there were about a thousand Catholic sisters in New York City. In ten years the number doubled. Child welfare was a major social problem. According to 1904 statistics, New York City harbored one-third of all insti-tutionalized and dependent children in the whole country. At the beginning of the 20th century, the archdiocese included 42 national parishes that served 11 different eth-nic groups. By 1911 women religious had founded three Catholic colleges for women: the Ursulines' College of New Rochelle (1904), the Religious of the Sacred Heart of Mary's Marymount College (1907), and the Sisters of Charity's .College of Mount St. Vincent (1911). In 1939, when Francis Spellman became New York's archbishop, this local church had over 2,500 priests, 10,000 nuns, and two million members. (It was also $26 million in debt.)14 What was happening? After World War II, in most U.S. religious congregations, there was a peak period Review for Religious of growth that lasted until the late 1960s. Those boom years and the winds of change that Vatican Council II set swirling deserve fuller analysis and reflection than is possible here)5 What Was "Really Going On"? I turn now to my second question: Amid all the facts and statistics in the story of women religious, what was "really going on" in, with, through, and even in spite of what was happening? How was and is God's work evident? I asked a few lay colleagues to describe the impact of women religious. A female pastoral associate responded, "Women religious have paved the way for the rest of us." A male theology professor replied that religious "have been gatekeepers of religious information, vital to identity formation." And from a male sociology profes-sor: "Women religious have helped us rethink our world and understand that mission is local and global." Some might find meaning in the story of New York's women religious by charting a trajectory: ¯ from assimi-lation to accompaniment, ¯ from competition to col-laboration, ¯ from convent lifestyles of cookie-cutter conformity to distinguishable diversity, ¯ from provin-cialism to global connection, ° from presence in institu-tions to presence to issues of our day. For others, the story of women religious in New York is a story of collective self-awakening that parallels the major social movements of the past two centuries, for example, from being the church's cheap labor force to being "catalysts to conscience.''~6 What was "really going on"? How was the Spirit present in our blind spots and flashes of light, in our so-called successes and so-called failures? What signs of 68.3 2009 Becbtle * The Impact of Women Religious in New York 242 God's moving and shaking, God's transforming energy and grace, can we notice? Underneath the narrative, faith always senses a deeper story, marked with the signs of God's pervasive presence. That story speaks of risk, of courage, of loss, and of love that transcends loss. It reveals themes of faithfulness, of relationship, of witness, and of power. It is a story much bigger than that of any one religious community. In assessing the impact of women religious, assess-ing what was "really going on," I offer four replies: (1) Faithfulness was (and is) going on. In the lives of the women named earlier in this article, faithfulness wore a highly public face. It shaped thought, molded institu-tions, awakened conscience, crafted public policy, acted and spoke out against ignorance, war, and poverty and for education, compassion, peace, and justice. Margaret John Kelly DC speaks of our legacy of "charity embrac-ing justice," a legacy that "generated energy as it moved from the hovels and points of entry in the 19th century to the halls and courts of power in our 21st century.''17 In their fierce fidelity, some among us are impelled by the Spirit to make private pain a public issue. In the lives of most of us, faithfulness takes a more ordinary form. (2) Relationship was (and is) going on. For example, there were relationships with the laity. Lay benefac-tors often saw needs more clearly than ecclesiastics did. Catholic and Protestant laywomen invited the Sisters of the Good Shepherd to minister to prostitutes in New York's prisons and almshouses in 1857. (Some while earlier, Archbishop Hughes would not acknowledge the fact of prostitution among Irish immigrant women.)~s From the earliest days, women religious knew that Review for Religious we could never carry out our mission alone, even though we sometimes pretended that we could. New York's first parish schools were begun by lay people, who soon invited sisters and brothers to staff them. The same was true in the first orphanages and hospitals, where lay managers, physicians, and clinicians supervised--and sometimes locked horns with--the sisters who served there. Before long, sisters assumed leadership of those same institutions and shaped them into vital providers of service in society. In our day, relationships are shift-ing again. Today, as they seek new ways to be in part-nership for the sake of the mission, religious and the laity depend on each other as never before. There were and are relationships with non-Catholics. Again and again, by their heroic behavior in epidemics, wars, and disasters, women religious won over the very Nativists and Know-Nothings who had vilified them. A prominent WASP (white Anglo-Saxon Protestant), Mr. Edwards Pierpont, exemplified the change of heart that sisters wrought. During the Civil War he told the Secretary of War that he wanted only a certain commu-nity of sisters to staff a military hospital in New York's Central Park, because they were "the most faithful nurses in the world." There were and are relationships among and between religious communities. In the early years, one arriving community after another was greeted with hospital-ity rather than aloofness or competitiveness by those already established here. In New York's urban vineyard, with plenty of work to be done, there were always too few laborers. In 1889, with the blessing of Pope Leo XIII, Mother Frances Xavier Cabrini and six Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart came to New York to work with Italian orphans. No one knew anything about the 68.3 2009 Becbtle ¯ Tbe Impact of Women Religious in New York convent they had been promised, so they spent their first night in a rundown rooming house. The Sisters of Charity took them in until a house hastily rented by a benefactor was ready. Unfortunately, that sisterly spirit could and often did yield to smug self-sufficiency. Rivalries, turf battles, and isolating rules kept members incommunicado from other congregations. Perhaps our large numbers and institutional presence during the peak years 1940-1969 inflated our corporate egos and narrowed our vision. Certainly, much of pre-Vatican II Catholic theology did little to dispose us to build bridges of understanding beyond boundaries. Today, happily, collaboration is a way of life for women religious. In theory and in prac-tice, we know that "none of us is as smart as all of us." (3) Witness was (and is) going on. Witness, intention-ally directed towards others, about what should be and against what should not be if God's dream is to be real-ized, expresses religious life's prophetic vocation. From our first days in this archdiocese, the not-so-subtle sub-text of our lives was: "Look. See. Pay attention. The poor are always among us--not invisible, not forgotten." The women religious who pioneered child-care insti-tutions in the late 19th century did more than mother countless orphans and foundlings. In a society that wanted to punish the poor for their poverty and ostra-cize unmarried women for their sexual conduct, they aligned themselves with the least ones. Their actions of compassion witnessed to the worth and dignity of every human being. Today our witness is the same: it is not about ourselves. It is about people in need, whether here or far away, in cardboard shacks on city streets or in huts with dirt floors in faraway parts of the world. "With whom do you believe your lot is cast?" asks the Review for Religious I! poet Adrienne Rich.19 Our answer has been clear: the least of Christ's sisters and brothers. (4) Power was (and is) going on. Interwoven with our stories are stories of power used and abused, for good and for ill. We have been agents and victims of power, subjects and objects of power. In our liminal status as neither clerics nor laypersons, we walk a fine line. As public persons in the church, we are subject to more sanctions and less freedom than the laity. Like them, we are closed off from much decision-making where we could exercise power for appropriate change. More than once we have given over our power and col-luded with unjust social and ecclesial structures. Diminishment, not power, seems the over- . ,~religious life today. riding theme in conver-sations about religious life today. But it is hardly the whole story. Our Catholic heritage gives us other angles from which to view the reality. We should look clearly and sensitively at things seen, but also in faith be sensitive to things unseen. The cold hard facts of the past forty years--declining numbers, more women dying than entering, the rising median age, retirement expenses, and cherished ministries sold, merged, or lost--do not tell the whole story, any more than the success and solidity of the 1940s and 1950s captured the whole story. The key question is: What wisdom have we learned from the success and the suffering that have been part of every stage of our existence? (And how do believers ~ i ~D~minishrnent, , not power, "~, ,seems tlie overriding theme ~ ¯ in, conversations about [245 68.3 2009 Becbtle ¯ The Impact of Women Religious in New York 246] measure success anyway?) As one congregational leader asked, "Do life's traumatic events serve as catalysts for transformation or stagnation in our religious congrega-rions?'' 2° What does all of it have to do with the mystery of dying and rising with Christ, the mystery of transfor-marion, that is the core of being Christian believers? In our beginnings, struggles, growth, and letting go, how have we tasted grace? Questions like these can move us to imagine an alternate view. We have claimed, explicidy and unapolo-gerically, power to create and re-create, to realize God's dream, in imitation and remembrance of the Jesus whom we vow to follow. We have used power to make a differ-ence in people's lives, to bring about change in society. Pope Benedict XVl recognized this in his address last year to U.S. Catholic educators: "Countless dedicated religious sisters, brothers, and priests together with selfless parents have, through Catholic schools, helped generations of immigrants to rise from poverty and take their place in mainstream society." We have used power to translate dreams and imaginings into buildings and behaviors, programs and policies; to shape the spiritual sensibilities of a people; to build relationships, widen the circle, and bring others to the table. This Spirit-story of power fought for and claimed, energy released and transformed, gifts shared and multi-plied, is the story of women religious. From what source do we draw this power? Does our deep life in God have anything to do with our story, with our impact? The answer may be obvious to us in religious life, but it needs to be voiced unambiguously. Not long ago Doris Gottemoeller RSM said of women religious, "We struggle to make our daily efforts transpar-ent to the love of God which animates us and the hope Review for Religious that guides us into the future." It is "the love of God which animates us," and it is that love alone which gives us the heart and energy of our committed response. I began with two questions: What was happening? And what was really going on? The course of these remarks has led me to two different but related ways of posing those questions, namely, With whom do we believe our lot is cast? And from where have we drawn our strength? Indeed, women religious in the church of New York and elsewhere have written a long scroll of faithfulness. We have aided people everywhere. The faithful witness of our efforts has changed public perception of religion and shaped public discourse about charity and justice. But our impact is most authentically measured, I believe, not by the visible standards of institutional presence or even the calculus of service, but rather in the incalcu-lable, invisible source of our energy and service, the passionate presence of God in us, the deep wellsprings of Spirit-life from which we live. No words, no story, can tell how God in us has touched our hearts and the hearts of others, and changed our world for the better. Matthew 2.5 makes it clear: it is love that matters. Surely, that final revealing of all that was obscure and hidden, that final tally of impact, will tell the story of women religious and their love--their immense, faith-ful, relational, witnessing, and powerful love--lived from deep within the heart of God. 1 This article is adapted from an address given at St. Ignatius Loyola Parish in New York, 3 April 2008, in a series commemorating the arch-diocese's 200th anniversary. Speakers were asked: "To what next step, to what new place, are women religious and our local church being invited? 68.3 2009 Becbtle ¯ The Impact of Women Religious in New York 248 What would the future look like through the eyes of your foundress?" 2 About 2,900 professed women religious live and minister in the archdiocese of New York. 3 Though this article focuses on New York, it is easily applicable to other dioceses. ~ Readers will know similar stories wherever they live. s "Diversity as Tradition: Why the Future of Christianity Is Looking More Like Its Past," Santa Clara Lecture, Santa Clara University, 8 November 2007. http://www.scu.edu/ignatiancenter/events/lectures/ index.cfm 6 For example, the Dominican sisters in Blauvelt, New York, a rural area in the 1880s, could not keep the rule of enclosure because their work with orphans required frequent trips to the New York City courtS~ 7 Thomas Spalding, The Premier See: A History of the Archdiocese of Baltimore, 1789-1994 (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1989), notes that Carroll did not want to foster a lot of strictly Catholic institutions, but rather "wished the local church to blend imperceptibly into the social fabric" (p. 62). The needs of the growing immigrant Catholic population would soon dictate otherwise. s [Sister Therese Wolfe OSU], The Ursulines in New Orleans and Our Lady of Prompt Succor: A Record of Two Centuries, 1727-1925 (New York: P.J. Kenedy & Sons, 1925), pp. 199-200. 9 Elizabeth Seton to Rev. Simon Brute, 1 August 1817, in Elizabeth Barley Seton Collected Writings, 4 vols., ed. Regina Bechtle SC and Judith Metz SC; ross. ed., Ellin M. Kelly (New York: New City Press, 2000- 2006), vol. 2, p. 494. l0 Christine Stansell, City of Women: Sex and Class in New York, 1789- 1860 (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1986), pp. 8-9 & 19. l~ See John McGreevy, Catholicism and American Freedom: A History (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2003). ~2 Thomas J. Shelley, The Bicentennial History of the Archdiocese of New York, 1808-2008 (Strasbourg: Editions du Signe, 2007), p. 171. ~3 Maureen Fitzgerald, Habits of Compassion (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2006), p. 133. ~4 1 am indebted to Maureen Welsh SHCJ for compiling and sum-marizing many of the statistics used in this article. ~s See, for example, Lora Ann Quifionez CDP and Mary Daniel Turner SNDdeN, The Transformation of American Catholic Sisters (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1992). Review for Religious I! 16 Joan Chittister OSB has written that the purpose of religious life is to be "a searing presence, a paradigm of search, a mark of human soul, and a catalyst to conscience in the society in which it emerged." ,7 Margaret John Kelly DC, address to Catholic Charities of New York, 21 February 2008, reported in Catholic New York, 28 February 2008. 18 See Shelley, Bicentennial History, p. 356. 19 Adrienne Rich, "The Spirit of Place." z0 Mary Persico IHM, "Welcoming the Storm," LCWR Occasional Papers, Winter 2007. Deadheading Deadheading daffodils is sad but necessary work. When the rich yellow trumpet goes all papery and transparent it begins to draw life from the bulb which stores it for next year's flowering. So, like a minor executioner, I lop offheads - snip, snip, snip - watch them fall haphazardly to the gentler earth which gathers up old life to make it new again. Bonnie Thurston 68.3 2009 PHILIP SHANO Communal Examen ignatian prayer Father George Aschenbrenner's groundbreaking article of 1972 on the "consciousness examen" led to a renewed understanding of the tradi-tional Ignatian exercise and its dynamic role in our personal lives2 His work dealt with the personal examen. In recent years occasional efforts have stressed Ignatian spirituality's communal dimension. Among those efforts is the work of a group called Ignatian Spiritual Exercises for the Corporate Person (ISECP), uniting the dynamic of the Exercises with insights of group facilitation.2 Also, an entire issue of The Way Supplement was devoted to communal discernment.3 John English SJ's book Spiritual Intimacy and Community deals with it.4 It stresses our nature as members of a community and helps readers to reflect on discernment's communal dimension. Philip Shano SJ last wrote for us in 2008. His address is soon to be Canadian Martyrs Residence; 2 Dale Avenue; Toronto, Ontario; M4W 1K4 Canada. Review for Religious This article, however, is not about communal dis-cernment per se; the pieces mentioned above are good starting points for that purpose. This article simply describes a "communal" examen of consciousness, an exercise based on the realization that Ignatian spiritual-ity is applicable to communities, not just individual men and: women. Where is Christ to be found in daily com-munity living? Communities, families, organizations, and even nations can experience collective consolation or desolation, a sense of being connected with God's movements in the world or a sense of being separated from them. Spirituality is communal. Though Ignatius's definitions and rules in the Exercises apply primarily to persons' relationship with God, they are also applicable to communal situations, to persons' relationship with one another. The communal examen, then, can help the community as a group to attend to its daily life in a prayerful way. The communal examen adapts the general examen found in the Spiritual Exercises (§§32-43). I divide this exercise into two connected parts. The first involves guiding our community prayerfully through the steps of the examen--a loving and contemplative look at our life together. The second part invites dialogue or conver-sation so that we share with the others our reflections on our community's life. I will refer to the parts as the guided examen and the conversational examen. One of the attractions of the communal examen is the power of a community praying together. In an arti-cle on Jesuits and the liturgy, Robert Taft SJ, professor emeritus of oriental liturgy at the Pontifical Oriental Institute in Rome, makes a distinction between freedom and obligation in Jesuit communal prayer. He points out that Ignatius did not want his men to be obligated to [25! 68.3 2009 Sbano ¯ Communal Examen celebrate the Hours regularly, but did want them to have the freedom to do this. He quotes a litde-known text. To his secretary, Juan de Polanco, Ignatius said: "We remain free to have choir when and where it may seem to contribute to God's greater service. Only the obligation is removed."5 In initiating the communal examen in my commu-nity, a Jesuit novitiate, my desire was that this exercise be truly communal. Early in our experience, we realized that, although we called it communal, it had a personal focus. As one member said, we were sitting with the others in a quiet space and praying about the week just past, but we were reflecting more on how "I" live in the community. The difference can be subtle, but our aim in our weekly examen is to move the primacy from "oneself in the community" to "ourselves as the com-munity." To that end I avoided using the pronoun "I" when I led the examen. The Method In our novitiate we keep the communal examen in .our weekly calendar. With few exceptions it takes place each Friday morning. We look in a prayerful and discerning way at the past week and then to the week coming up. The leader prepares the examen a day or two earlier, prayerfully considering what has been hap-pening. The leader asks himself: Where is the energy in the community? What are the Spirit's movements? Do people in the community look tired, or are they energized and upbeat? Are they engaged, or are they withdrawing? The leader has .tried to pick up the gen-eral flow of life in the community--at the dining-room table, in living-room conversations, in classes, at Mass, and so on. He does this not as an external observer, but Review for Religious as one of the community. He "listens" for subtle move-ments; he tries to be a discerning presence in the com-munity. (The leader should probably be the superior or some other person of authority in the group.) We spend about forty minutes on the communal exa-men. The first twenty or so are devoted to the guided examen. Then, after a transitional prayer, we begin our conversation, our dialogue. The guided examen uses the five elements of traditional conscious-ness examens. After an opening prayer, we begin with gratitude. Adapting Ignatius's words and making them relevant for this com-munity at this time, the guide invites the community to "give thanks to God our Lord for the benefits [we] have received" (SpEx §43). He simply and prayerfully reminds us of some of the highlights (either scheduled or spontaneous) in the community's life in the past week. After a few more guiding words, several minutes of silence follow, during which all get in touch with experiences for which they are grateful to God. The purpose of the leader's guiding words, of course, was to jog people's memories. Communities busy with many things may easily have forgotten some noteworthy things, or may have taken them for granted. Next the guide again offers, as at each stage, a few guiding points or questions and then leaves the group to silence. We pray for the enlightening grace to see our week as God's sees it and to use this time prayerfully. Third, and probably most significandy for the com- Did some event have a very positive and consoling effect on the community? 6g.3 2009 Sbano ¯ Communal Examen munity's discernment, we look again at things we are grateful for and then we pray for awareness of where and when we, as a community, experienced consolation or desolation, union of minds and hearts, or separation and isolation. What were significant moments in the community this week? Was there a lot of internal move-ment in the community because of a particular event? Which events are worthwhile for the community to go back and revisit, letting God's grace shine in a new way? My practice in this third step is to be as specific as pos-sible, especially if at some time energy and consolation were clearly present, or there were evident moments of desolation and a loss of energy. For instance, was there a very real source of tension in the community that week? Was there a jarring argument, or did a big public event cause concern? Did some event have a very positive and consoling effect on the community? In the fall of 2008, the election campaign in the United States was clearly having an impact on conver-sations in the living room and at table. Likewise, the community was not immune to the daily news of war, terrorism, economic turmoil, and political scandal. The ministry that novices were doing one or two days a week gave Mondays and Wednesdays a distincdy different feel at table than other days. There was usually an upbeat atmosphere as the men recounted experiences from their ministries. How do we let God's grace into the things that have an impact on the life of the community? All of this is fruit for prayerful reflection together. Our fourth step is to look at our sin as a commu-nity. That means looking to our relationships with one another or with others outside the community. It involves a look at our life as a community: Where or when are we wasteful of time or money, food or drink, electricity or Review for Religious paper? Where are we avoiding others? How are we as a community not attentive to our brothers and sisters in the city around us? What effect did the negative mood of one or two of us have on the rest of us? Are we hospi-table? As with the "discernment" step, it is helpful to be as specific as possible. In some areas we may know we are sinful or wonder whether we are. Perhaps a well-stocked refrigerator stands as a stark reminder of our difference from most peo-ple in the world. Or per-haps our garbage cans tell us something about our waste and the gifts we take for granted. Or maybe the fatigue and moodiness of one member has influenced all of us that week. If a community is honest, it does not take long to realize some communal sinfulness. Realization is one step. Sorrow is another. The final step is a hope-filled look at the week com-ing up, in the light of what we are learning about the week just ended. From what we know about our life together--both virtue and sinfulness--is there some-thing specific we should be especially attentive to? What special or ordinary events are coming up next week? Does anything there need special grace? What hopes and prayers do we have for next week? As with the earlier steps, here the leader offers a few guiding words and then leaves the group in silence. This much takes us about twenty minutes. After a simple transitional prayer, we go to the sec-ond part, the conversational examen, something notably different. The leader does not guide here. The members of the community raise points and offer reflections. The iMayhe the f ti ue and moodiness of one ,member has nfluenced all of us, 68.3 2009 Shano ¯ Communal Examen assumption is that they have thoughtfully focused on their life together and that their remarks will be more communal than personal. Dialogue is expected. The aim of this medium of exchange is to help the community itself grow in spirit and in practice. For instance, if one person says "I am disturbed by our community's sin of wastefulness," the hope is that others will respond either by asking for clarification or by adding their own obser-vations. Otherwise, an important opportunity for the community's growth has been missed. It is good when members recognize together how much the community has been in consolation, or deso-lation, in the wake of specific occurrences or choices. That can lead to shared thanksgiving and shared self-awareness (or community-awareness), or to shared sor-row for our communal sin and shared hope for the week coming up. Do we have commonly shared desires? That questi.on may involve subdeties that are hard to commu-nicate, but, when there is a prayerful disposition in the group, members can more easily hear one another. Some Other Things We Learned What have we learned about this trial-and-error exercise? First, the setting should be a prayerful one, but not overly prayerful. We used to conduct both phases in the chapel, but found that, understandably, it did not foster conversation. We took each other's words a little too sacredly there, and thus not communally enough. Then we tried using the chapel for the guided examen and a seminar table for the conversational section. That was all right, but it seemed two businesslike after our time in the chapel. Now we use a living room. The weekly communal examen helps us look at how we are living together in community: things that "work" Review for Religious by orienting us toward God and community, and things that lead to isolation and its attendant problems. Being a novitiate, we do that regularly anyhow, but the exa-men provides a prayerful setting for this to happen. It serves, in a way, as a weekly and prayerful community meeting. It offers us a chance to pray together in an easy way over the logistics and mechanics of how we actually live together. The weekly examen needs to have flexibility built into it. A good analogy is the personal consciousness examen. That prayerful habit changes and develops over time. Likewise, the communal examen needs to grow. A community looks and acts differently after a few months of living together.6 And, when new members move in, it changes and needs to develop new habits. Let me restate the obvious. The guides need to be in tune with the movements in the community. Their guid-ance questions cannot be generic or rote; they have to resonate with the community. Is there an ongoing issue that needs continual attention? VChat issue does this community need to attend to this week? In what ways are we in harmony with God's activity in the world? What do we need to be monitoring? Perhaps it is our tendency to overwork or overanalyze. Or are we weak at hospitality and just "wasting time" with one another and our guests? Do we neglect the playfulness or creative side of life in community? Do we mention the same discernments or the same kind or degree of sinfulness week after week? All of those things tell us something about how we are living. The communal examen needs to be adapted to this community's uniqueness. It can be a good way of being honest with one another. In our practice we end the exercise with a brief clos-ing prayer. I have thought, however, that it could be 68.3 2009 Shano * Communal Examen Guidance questions have to resonate with the community,: expanded, It could wrap up some of what we discussed in the second half. On the other hand, that may depend on whether the conversation has led to the resolution of something. Presumably, as time goes on, the group will deal better with issues that arise. In that regard, the hope for the communal examen is no different than people's hope that their personal praying of the exa-men of consciousness will help them keep growing and developing spiritually. One caution needs mentioning. Just because a com-munity is committed to the weekly examen does not mean that community members should store up issues till the formal exercise concludes another week. People should use the present moment and informal opportunities to deal with many things. The communal examen simply offers a chance to look back from the perspective of a week. It offers another occasion to commend or affirm each other--something that can happen naturally enough all week long. It may offer a better way of dealing with pat-terns of behavior. It can be a time of gende challenges to both individuals and community. It offers us the chance to take a long, loving look at our community living. More than thirty-five years ago George Aschenbrenner said, "We are talking about an experience in faith of growing sensitivity to the unique, intimately special ways that the Lord's Spirit has of approaching and call-ing us.''7 Over the decades, we have grown to recognize the need not only for me tO pray better but for us to pray together better.8 Review for Religioua Notes ' George A. Aschenbrenner sJ, "Consciousness Examen," Review for Religious 31 (1972): 14-21. Aschenbrenner wrote a follow-up article about the examen in Review for Religious 39 (May 1980): 321-324. 2 Ignatian Spiritual Exercises for the Corporate Person (ISECP) was founded in 1977 as a joint Canadian-American project involving several Jesuits and their colleagues working to bring together some insights and methods based on merging group dynamics/facilitation with the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises. It was based in the University of Scranton (Pennsylvania). The group still exists, under a new name and acronym, International Society of Community Engagement Professionals (ISCEP), based in Appleton, Wisconsin, with Judith A. Roemer OSF at the helm. Information and resources are available at www.iscep.org. 3 The Way Supplement 85 (Spring 1996), titled "Discerning Together." It offers articles by writers experienced in communal dis-cernment. It presents a way of doing communal discernment and deals with issues such as conflict, social sin and grace, and cross-cultural communication. q John English SJ, Spiritual Intimacy and Community: An Ignatian View of the Small Faith Community (London: Darton, Longrnan and Todd, 1992). 5 Juan de Polanco is quoted in Robert E Taft sJ, "Liturgy in the Life and Mission of the Society of Jesus," in Liturgy in a Postmodern World, ed. Keith Pecklers SJ (London and New York: Continuum, 2003), p. 51. 6 My experience is with a formation community that changes from year to year. The members, mostly novices, presumably change and grow amid new challenges and opportunities. The weekly examen will look a little different in a community that has more stability. 7 Aschenbrenner, "Consciousness Examen," p. 15. s Some of the ideas in this article are from my experience of working on the Leadership Formation Programme at Loyola House, Guelph, Canada, in the 1990s. This programme was offered prin-cipally to the Waterloo Region Roman Catholic Separate School Board. I acknowledge, too, my Jesuit novitiate community in St. Paul, Minnesota, USA, with whom I have been able to put into practice the communal examen. 68.3 2009 Shano ¯ Communal Examen Questions for Personal and Group Reflection 1. In our apostolic community, how might we adopt this approach to a communal examen that Philp Shano uses within a formation (novitiate) community? 2. What are the benefits to our way of living community life if we regularly schedule a communal examen? What are some pitfalls that we need to avoid if we regularly schedule a communal examen? I Confession We chase butterflies Fluttering fresh From the chrysalis of creation And entangle inarticulable wonders Of sorrow and delight In rough nets of words And pin them to the page. For the presumption, Lord Of our faded Lepidoptera Unable to survive The trauma of their capturing We ask forgiveness Even if not promising Never to sin again. Ian A.T. While Review for Religious LOUIS M. SAVARY Ignatius' s Contemplatio ad Amorem One of the most memorable experiences of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises is its final exercise, commonly referred to in Latin as the Contemplatio ad Amorem.1 The title has been traditionally translated as "The Contemplation for Attaining Divine Love" or "The Contemplation to Reach Love," which is Jesuit Joseph Tetlow's interpretation.2 Notice that neither translation mistakenly says "obtaining" God's love, for Ignatius knows that we already are receiving that divine love in infinite abundance. Rather, in this experience Ignatius offers us a way to learn how to "reach for" and hopefully "attain" and "possess" the ability to love the way God loves. In line with this clarification, accord-ing to Jesuit George Aschenbrenner, some have sug-gested retitling this experience "Loving the Way God Loves."3 Louis M. Savary has given lectures and workshops on Teilhardian spirituality for many years. His address is 3404 Ellenwood Lane; Tampa, Florida 33618. lousavary@yahoo.com 68.3 2009 Savary ¯ Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem Starting with the Contemplatio I have heard it secondhand that some well-respected Ignatian retreat directors, when presenting the Spiritual Exercises to those who have made the Exercises before, perhaps many times, begin with the Conternplatio. Starting at the end, though counterintuitive, seems an excellent idea, for at least three reasons. First of all, by beginning with the Contemplatio, sea-soned retreatants reconnect with where they left off the last time they made the Exercises. Reentering the Contemplatio during their first rediscover their wonder and cious presence in their lives, day in retreat, they quickly gratefulness at God's gra-and they recall the gener-ous and loving response they made to God in the "Take and Receive" prayer during earlier retreats. When they enter the First Week in this way, they are approaching the Exercises from a new vantage point, with gratitude and love for God renewed, and they are more likely to be open to making an ever greater (magis) offering of themselves to God during the coming days of prayer. The second reason comes from a beautiful insight of Michael J. Buckley SJ, who describes in his now famous article how Ignatius's four points of the Contemplatio recapitulate in succession the Four Weeks of the Exercises.4 By beginning an Ignatian retreat with the Contemplatio, the retreatants summarize--and anticipate, as it were--the various graces and spiritual dynamics they can look forward to during the coming "Weeks" of the Exercises.5 Third, other retreat directors have complained that they must sometimes spend a full day or two (of an eight-day retreat) just to help busy, stress-filled retreatants to slow down enough to experience God's presence. Beginning the retreat with the Conternplatio, Review for Religious the retreatants would probably feel immersed in God's presence upon noticing with greater awareness the coundess gifts of God they have been receiving in their daily lives. Two Spiritual Truths In his introduction to this contemplation, Ignatius wants us to be mindful of two spiritual truths. The first is that "love ought to manifest itself more by deeds than by words.''6 The second is that "love consists in mutual communication between the two per-sons. That is, the one who loves gives and communicates to the beloved what one has, or a part of what one has or can have; and the beloved in return ~ does the same to the lover. Thus, if one has knowledge, one gives it to the other who does not; and similarly in regard to honors and riches. Each shares with the other." What Ignatius describes here is the way God, as Lover, loves. God's loving is an unconditionally gener-ous sharing of the divine life with all that he loves. And the sharing is done in deeds, not just in words. The grace we are to seek in this contemplation is not primarily gratitude and wonder at realizing how unconditionally God loves us, though this is a very nat-ural response. To stop there is to miss the main point. The grace we want is to respond appropriately to this divine Lover. To this end Ignatius, the great "technician Thel gra.ke We are to seek in this contemplation is not primarily gratitude and wonder at realizing how ,unconditionally God loves us. 263 68.3 2009 Savaty ¯ Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem 2 41 of the sacred," designed this experience in four stages. At each stage he asks us (1) to observe closely the way God loves us and (2) to put into practice our love of God and the rest of creation in a similarly unconditional and generous way. In this contemplation, Ignatius has us observe God's love at four points, which I prefer to call stages, for at each there is an advance. At the first, we note God giv-ing us gifts. At the second, we note that God is pres-ent in the gifts and even in. the gift of our very selves. At the third stage, we take notice of God continuously acting (and laboring) in and through those gifts and in and through ourselves as well. Finally, at the fourth and fullest stage, we realize that God is personally sharing the divine Life with us. We find ourselves loved com-pletely and desiring to return that love in the complete way that God loves us.8 Four Developmental Stages The first stage of showing love is the giving of a gift in the form of a tangible object, like a carefully cho-sen birthday present. Ignatius expects not only that we will feel wonder and gratitude at the gifts a passionately loving God has given us, but also that we will hope to give gifts in return--as lavishly as we can. Even at this first stage, Ignatius brings in the theme of magis that permeates the Exercises. For Ignatius, actions are not done merely for the glory of God, but for the greater glory of God. No matter what we do for God, we yearn to do more.9 The second stage of showing love adds presence to the gift. The Giver does not simply hand over the gift and then leave, but remains present in the gift and is present to the recipient opening it. Review for Religious The third stage of showing love adds personal inter-action with the gift and with the recipient. The Giver does not merely stand by as the beloved opens the gift, but interacts with the gift and the person, perhaps by subtly showing him or her how the gift operates or can be used. The fourth stage of showing love goes much further. It is about sharing oneself--becoming one with the beloved. That is, (1) the tangible gift, (2) the divine presence, and (3) the divine interaction with the recipient indicate (4) that God wants to share the divine Life with the beloved's life; there is a bonding. In this contemplation we do not observe and reflect on these four stages of loving only to unite us and God in a kind of private spiritual communion. Such commu-nion is a wonderful thing, but it is only a preliminary result. Ignatius wants more. He wants us to be with God while these four ways of God loving us and all of creation are being shown to us, and then he wants us to ask God what, in a similar fourfold manner, God has in mind for us to do. This goes beyond a spiritual-ity focused simply on "me and God." It stretches us to include all human beings and all creation in our four stages of loving. Inspiring Teilhard de Chardin The Jesuit Pierre Teilhard de Chardin dedicated his revolutionary spirituality book The Divine Milieu "to those who love the world."1° Teilhard, a true son of Ignatius and pray-er of the Contemplatio, saw no con-tradiction between loving God with all our heart and soul and loving the human family and all of creation with all our heart and soul. For Teilhard, the human family and all of creation were, in fact, the living Body 68.3 2009 Savary * Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem of the Cosmic Christ. To love that Body is to love its Head, for the two are one being. The Divine Milieu can be summed up as a spirituality that shows us, as Ignatius would say, how "to find God in all things." Teilhard's spirituality begins with the Contemplatio and develops it to new heights. Like Ignatius, Teilhard would have us not avoid the world or try to withdraw from it (as many traditional spiritualities would have us do), but plunge into it with mind and heart for love of Christ. George Aschenbrenner, like most contemporary skilled and experienced interpreters of the Exercises, has been influenced consciously or unconsciously by Teilhard's thought on the integration of the sacred and the secular. It is a stretch to believe that Ignatius could have written in the 16th century the following para-graph of Aschenbrenner's, but he would have if alive today: The Ignatian pilgrim mysticism of service finds God in all things by entering carefully into the tangled human situation rather than by withdrawing from it. The special contemplative nature of this expe-rience [the Contemplatio] makes the service always radically religious, however secular it may appear. This radically grateful religious service can heal the sacred-secular split in your experience that often saps apostolic energy. ~l This perspective of finding and loving God in all things permeates the four stages of the Ignatian Contemplatio. To forget this "all things" perspective is to miss the grandeur and greatness of God's salvific plan for his creation. The First Stage of Loving: Giving Gifts At the first stage of the Contemplatio, Ignatius tells us that God gives gifts. He has said that love is shown Review for Religious in action. Giving gifts is an action; it is more than words. All of creation is God's gift to us. Creation is the Original Blessing. Teilhard would tell us to begin to list these divine gifts that science has revealed to us--including gifts that Ignatius in his day had litde or no awareness of, or of how and when they were given. For example, Ignatius had no sense of the vastness and almost fourteen-bil-lion- year existence of the universe with its galaxies, stars, planets--many hundreds of billions of them. Today, with the help of science in all its forms, we have come to recognize that God's original act of cre-ation has been continually evolving. Original simple particles at the Big Bang were attracted to other par-ticles to form connections and unions. As these new unions kept attracting other unions, creation evolved to higher levels of complexity. New chemical elements, more complex than those before, kept appearing. Over eons insects, fish, reptiles, plants, grasses, trees, and ani-mals appeared. Finally, hominids evolved. Over many hundred thousands of years, and before homo sapiens, many hominid forms came into existence and then became extinct. Eventually humans created language, art, and music, forms of government, science, literature, and all the other elements of civilization and culture. And still evolution continues. Even St. Paul recognized that divine creation is still incomplete, still in process.12 Through discoveries in science and technology, we have come to recognize in our limited way the fundamental law driving evolution-ary creation--another gift of God. We have come to recognize the evolutionary law of attraction-connec-tion- complexity-consciousness that God has placed in every particle he created, and that this law is designed to 68.3 2009 Savary * Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem culminate in the spiritualization of all matter.~3 Through our faith we believe that all creation lives in, with, and through God in a divine milieu, and that there is noth-ing outside this divine milieu.~4 On the microscopic side, science has revealed the incredible complexity and activ-ity of each living being--the human genome, the tril-lions of cells that live in our bodies, each with its own highly complex intra-active life. Ignatius, of course, recognizes the gift of Earth itself, and so do we: all the beauties of mountains, plains, and skies, all the power of tornadoes, hurri-canes, tidal waves, floods, deserts, and frozen tundra. Nor can we forget the gifts humans have been able to give to each other and back to God, gifts such as civi-lization, music, art, literature, society, communication, transporta-tion, recreation, science, mathematics, architecture, entertainment, film, radio, television, computers. The technologies developed in the past century would have astounded Ignatius. We can add to Ignatius's list all the gifts we have personally received--family, talents, skills, education, opportunities, friends. Along with these are our five senses, our memory, intelligence, and willpower, our freedom to love and make commitments, our accom-plishments, our team building, our worship. For Ignatius, these four capacities of the human mind and, spirit. liberty, memory, understanding/ and will-areothe greatest gift we can offer to God,, Review for Religious Ignatius created his "Take and Receive" prayer to end each of the four stages of this Contemplatio. We can see how it summarizes especially the first of the four stages of the contemplation. We bring gifts to God, the gifts of our liberty, memory, understanding, and will. They are the best of what any human possesses: "You have given them to me; I return them to you, Lord. Everything is yours. Dispose of it all according to your will. Give me the grace to love you, and that is enough for me.''Is For Ignatius, these four capacities of the human mind and spirit--liberty, memory, understand-ing, and will--are the greatest gift we can offer to God. Today a psychologist might suggest adding things such as my imagination, my creativity, my physical energy, my talents, the skills I have developed, my contacts, my influence, my financial resources, and my experience. The Second Stage of Loving: Presence At the second stage, in Ignatius's words, "I will consider how God dwells [is present] in creatures; in the elements, giving them existence; in the plants, giv-ing them life; in the animals, giving them sensation; in human beings, giving them intelligence; and finally, how in this way he dwells also in myself, giving me existence, life, sensation, and intelligence; and even further, mak-ing me his temple, since I am created as a likeness and image of the Divine Majesty" (SpEx §2 3 5). We can for-mulate a prayer appropriate to this experience of loving presence. The "Take and Receive" prayer does not quite capture literally this second stage of loving, namely, that, in response to God's loving presence to me, my own presence to God is a loving gift in return. Although, traditionally, directors suggest that the "Take and Receive" prayer be repeated at each of the four stages, 269 68.3 2009 Savary * Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem Ignatius allows the retreatant to proceed "in the manner described in the first point, or in any other way I feel to be better.'n7 Perhaps such a second-stage prayer, emphasizing mutual presence, might go something like this: Just as you, God, remain present in your gifts--giv-ing them existence, life, and purpose--and just as you remain present to me, I choose to remain actively pres-ent in the gifts I offer to you, God, by not wasting them or disregarding them or neglecting to use them, but rejoicing in using them for your purposes and for your greater glory. In my loving of you, I wish also to remain present to you. To do this, I beg the grace to remain conscious that I am working side by side with you and with Christ helping to build the Great Christ Body. The Third Stage of Loving: Cooperative Interaction The third stage of loving focuses on personal inter-action. In Ignatius's words, "I will consider how God labors and works for me in all the creatures on the face of the earth; that is, he acts in the manner of one who is laboring. For example, he is working in the heavens, elements, plants, fruits, catde, and all the rest--giving them their existence, conserving them, concurring with their vegetative and sensitive activities, and so forth" (SpEx §236). God keeps, acting in and through those gifts, as well as in and through the beloved. God does not just act once and then stop. God continues acting and interacting at every moment with, in, and through the gifts of creation. By that continuous action, creation grows and develops; it becomes more complex and con-tinues to evolve in consciousness. For us to love in the same interactive way, we need to keep acting and interacting with the gifts we already possess and the gifts we are still being given so as to Review for Religious help creation to grow and evolve in complexity and con-sciousness. Here it is appropriate to formulate a prayer of sustained commitment to use our gifts to grow per-sonally and to encourage similar growth in those with whom we interact. This third stage of loving invites a new stage of prayer, one of interactive commitment beyond the "Take and Receive" prayer. It might be something like this: Ever-working God, in reflecting on your almost four-teen billion years of divine revelation and original blessing, I have come to recognize the law of attrac-tion- connection-complexity-consciousness that you have placed in me and in every particle of matter you created, and that this law is designed to culminate in the spiritual transformation of all matter. Therefore I dedicate myself, for your greater glory, to growing in complexity and consciousness by working alongside others--in Christ--with those talents and gifts you have given me. I will strive to find ever-new ways to spiritualize the material things in my life. The Fourth Stage of Loving: Mutual Indwelling At the fourth stage, in Ignatius's words, "I will con-sider how all good things and gifts descend from above; for example, my limited power from the supreme and infinite power above; and so of justice, goodness, piety, mercy, and so forth--just as the rays come down from the sun, or the rains from their source" (SpEx §2 3 7). God shares the divine Self with the beloved. God does not only give gifts that are external to himself, as it were, but gives himself to us as an involved, interactive personal presence--like the sun's rays are giving us the sun itself, bringing an active and interactive presence. The incarnation of the divine Word is one way God shares the divine Self and demonstrates this fourth stage 271 68.3 2009 Savary ¯ Igngtius's Contemplatio ad Amorem 272 of loving. Christ's mystical incarnation in the Eucharist is another self-giving of God to us. In the Universal Christ we are offered a way to reciprocate this self-giv-ing love, so that with St. Paul we can say, "I no longer live, but I am alive in Christ.''7 At the fourth stage of showing love, Ignatius wants us to learn to live our day and our destiny within God the Beloved. We live out our day within and alongside our Beloved, that is, we remain present in the gifts we offer to God, acting in and through those gifts as well as in and through the Beloved. When Ignatius speaks of "finding God in all things," he is talking not about finding a mere Presence and qui-etly resting in it. That famous expression means much more. It means being with God all day long in our daily duties and activities, doing each thing with God and in God. After all, at every moment God is keeping every-thing in being, from the smallest microbe to the farthest galaxy. God and we are acting and working side by side (stage three) and as one (stage four). We are building the kingdom of God together--God in me and I in God.~8 In this way we become "contemplatives in action." As Aschenbrenner points out, "A busy disciple encounters many people in a great variety of situations, but the direct, immediate encounter is always with the Divine Majesty. A mysticism of service stretches your soul in an awareness of the fidelity of God's loving service to you.''~9 To express in prayer this fourth way of loving, we might say something like this: O Great God, I no longer wish to live and simply work for you. My deepest desire and the grace I ask is that I may live consciously in you and with you and, in Christ, that I may realize that my primary privi-lege and honor is to be a cell in the Cosmic Body of Christ. I wish to live and work no longer just as me, Review for Religious but consciously as belonging to Christ--on our way to you. I desire to know and see how the Christ Body as a whole is working toward its fulfillment, and I wish to cooperate consciously and ever more gener-ously with whatever you wish and desire. Something that has always surprised me about the Exercises is that, although Ignatian spirituality in gen-eral is quite Eucharistic,2° there is little or no mention of receiving the Eucharist or of the Eucharist's centrality in Catholic Christian liturgy and life. To me, the Eucharist provides the simplest and most profound synthesis of the Contemplatio, since it integrates simultaneously the four stages of that contemplation, namely, Eucharist as gift, presence, active working, and mutual indwelling. When the Cosmic Christ who lives today comes to the altar during the celebration of the Mass, there we find God in all things and all things in him. Notes 1 In the Latin "Versio Litteralis" of Ignatius's Spanish text of the Exercises, the Contemplatio is titled "Contemplatio ad Obtinendum Amorem." The Latin verb obtinere is not to be simply transliterated as "to obtain" or "to get," but rather means "to have" or "to possess." Interestingly, in the "Versio Vulgata" from Ignatius's lifetime, the tide is "Conwmplatio ad Amorem Spiritualem" followed by the words "in nobis excitandum" (to be aroused in us) in small print. 2 See Joseph A. Tedow SJ, Ignatius Loyola: Spiritual Exercises (New York: Crossroad, 1992), p. 145. 3 George A. Aschenbrenner SJ, Stretched for Greater Glory: What to Expect from the Spiritual Exercises (Chicago: Loyola Press, 2004), p. 134. 4 Michael J. Buckley SJ, "The Contemplation to Attain Love," Way Supplement 24 (Spring 1975): 92-104. s For another development of this correlation, see Aschenbrenner, Stretched for Greater Glory, pp. 141-146. 6 SpEx §230. Unless otherwise noted, translated excerpts of the Spiritual Exercises are from George E. Ganss SJ, The Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius (Chicago: Loyola Press, 1992). 68.3 20O9 Savary * Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem 7 Tedow, Ignatius, p. 145. 8 Although Tedow lists these as "four points on how God loves" (p. 145) and shows how they are distinct from each other, I feel he does not adequately show their developmental or evolutionary character. 9 In the Exercises, magis typically means choosing one of two or more authentic goods as more (magis) conducive to God's glory than the others. Once a person has chosen the magis in a major decision (such as a life path or career), magis in later retreats can pertain to whether one is continually improving one's skills, cooperation, generosity, and so forth. 10 Pierre Teilhard de Chardin SJ, The Divine Milieu (New York: Harper & Row, 1960). The complete dedication ironically juxtaposes two expressions: "Sic Deus Dilexit Mundum: For Those Who Love the World." 11 Aschenbrenner, Stretching, p. 147. 12 See Ep 1:10, Col 2:19. t3 Teilhard discusses this law extensively in his Phenomenon of Man. See also my book Teilbard de Chardin: The Divine Milieu Explained (New York: Paulist Press, 2007), esp. pp. 27ff. ~4 See Paul's speech in Ac 17:22-31. is Note that this final sentence of the Suscipe prayer, here taken from the Versio Vulgata, differs from that in the ~rsio Litteralis, which translated reads: "Give me your love and your grace, for that is enough for me." In the Vulgata, the sentence is about my love for God (that is, about learning how to love the way God loves); in the Litteralis, it is a prayer asking God to love me. See Thesaurus Spiritualis Societatis Jesu (Rome: Jesuit Curia, 1953), pp. 226-228, §234. 16 SpEx §235. In the Thesaurus Spiritualis, Father Jan Roothaan SJ, focusing in his footnote on the word "better," suggests a response dif-ferent from the "Take and Receive" prayer of the first point, a response that might better recognize the advance--the magis--reflected in this point's theme of presence. In later notes Roothaan makes similar sug-gestions, that colloquies reflect the magis, expressing increasing love in successive points. t7 See Ga 2:20. is If Ignatius were alive today, he might nuance his position to agree with many New Testament scholars who would probably use a different rhetoric here. They might want to make a distinction between building the kingdom of God and building the City of God. They would prefer to see God as the one who builds the kingdom or reign of God, with us humans offering our essential cooperation and contributions. And they Review for Religious might prefer to see us humans primarily focused on building the City of God, with God's total involvement, of course. Teilhard might solve the issue by saying that in Christ and with the Father we are together working to fulfill the divine project (the kingdom of God). In any case, Ignatius sees building the kingdom as a joint project. Also see Juan Luis Segundo, The Christ of the Ignatian Exerdses (New York: Orbis Books, 1987), pp. 90-103. ,9 Aschenbrenner, Stretching, p. 139. 20 For example, Ignatius urged members of the Society to attend Mass much more frequently than was usual in the church at that time. He celebrated Mass daily for discernment in composing the Society's Constitutions. He and his early companions took their first vows at Montmartre in Paris during Mass, and, when the Society was officially approved, they renewed their vows at Mass in St. Paul's Outside the Walls in Rome. A Prayer Response Lord, once again I ask: which is the more precious of these two beatitudes, that all things are means through which I can touch you, or that you yourself are so "universal" that I can experience you and lay hold on you in every creature? Some think to make you more lovable in my eyes by praising almost exclusively the charm and the kindness of your human face as men saw it long ago on earth. But if I sought only a human being to cherish, would I not turn to those whom you have given me here and now in all the charm of their flowering? Do we not all have around us irresistibly lovable mothers, brothers, sisters, friends? Why should we go searching the Judaea of two thousand years ago? No, what I cry out for, like every other creature, with my whole being, and even with all my passionate earthly longings, is something very different from an equal to cherish: It is a God to adore. The Divine Milieu [275 68.3 2009 Job's Difficult Transformation spiritual growth 2761 It seems that the story of Job never fails to capture readers' interest. To a greater or lesser degree, Job's experience reflects our experience. In The Book of Job,~ Stephen Mitchell provides both a dynamic introduction and a captivating translation of the biblical book. This article engages some of Mitchell's themes--such as submission, surrender, innocent suffering, pun-ishment, being a victim, and justice--as they relate to Mitchell's understanding of Job's main theme, transformation (Mitchell, p. xxix). I agree with that main theme, and I also think transformation is the theme of the sto-ries of all of us. This theme comprises and unites many other themes. Suffering--indeed, tremendous suffering--starts Job's transforma-tion and involves others: his wife and friends. Marian Maskulak CPS is an assistant professor of Theology and Religious Studies (with a special interest in spirituality) at St. John's University; 8000 Utopia Parkway; Queens, New York 11439. The transformation moves from the innocent, submis-sive, and fearful Job to the rebellious and more compas-sionate Job, and it culminates in the Job who surrenders his whole being to God. Transformation requires hon-est acknowledgment of one's thoughts and feelings, and includes a growing understanding of God, oneself, and the world and a letting go of many previous ideas. Job comes to understand that limited and often narrow con-cepts of morals and justice are not to be ascribed to God, that innocent suffering is neither victimization nor punishment by a wrathful god, and that suffering and justice remain within the mystery of creation's God, for whom there is neither past nor future. The Bible's Book of Job consists of a prose prologue based on an ancient legend, the poem that constitutes the body of the book, and a prose epilogue. The pro-logue presents Job as a good, innocent, and God-fearing man who is enjoying a blessed and prosperous life. In a meeting between God and the Accuser, the latter con-tends that, if God takes away all that Job has, Job will curse God. God then allows hardship to befall Job: the loss of his children and his many possessions. Through all of this, Job remains steadfast in his conviction that God 'gave him all he had and then took it away. He lies with his face in the dust, as though prostrate before God, and blesses God. A second meeting between God and the Accuser results in God's allowing Job to be physically afflicted, short of death. Tormented from head to toe with boils, Job still refuses to curse God and maintains that, just as he has accepted good fortune from God, he must now accept bad fortune. This time Job sits in the dust. It soon comes to light that Job may better be described as a good, innocent, and "god-fearing" man who is unaware of his false conception of God. [277 68.3 2009 Maskulak ¯ Job's Difficult Tran~Cormation 278 The contrast between submission and surrender is important for Mitchell. The Job of the prologue "submits" to his plight, to the superior force of God. Mitchell suggests that one might agree with Job's wife who says: "How long will you go on clinging to your innocence? Curse God, and die" (pp. viii, 8). Mitchell does not develop this thought further, but it suggests two ideas to me. First, Job's wife has been suffering along with Job in "their" pain and loss. She knows that their experience of pain, sorrow, frustration, anger, and despair wants to cry out in fury. Life experience has also shown her that people who curse God do not automati-cally "die." On one level, Job's wife is challenging him to be a human being and to express his anguish and outrage. It is only by acknowledging one's true thoughts and feelings that one can appropriate them and grow. Mitchell recognizes this: "For any transformation to occur, Job has to be willing to let his hidden anxieties become manifest. He must enter the whirlwind of his own psychic chaos before he can hear the Voice" (p. ix). Second, Job's wife chailenges him by asking how long he is going to cling to his innocence. Here, perhaps, is the crux of Job's problem, as well as that of his friends. Rather than clinging to God, Job i~ clinging to "his innocence" and "his notion" of what he deserves, or how God should act because of his innocence. Job is authentically innocent, but even good qualities or prac-tices can become idolatry when they and one's own self become the focus instead of God. When Job finally cries out against God, his friends cling to this same notion that God must act in a pre-dictably benevolent way if one is truly innocent. It is as though being "innocent," being "good enough," requires God to act in cert~ain ways. This can be a disguised or Review for Religious subde way of trying to control or manipulate God. Even in the midst of his crying out, when his submissive self is left behind, Job "clings" to his innocence: "I will hold tight to my innocence; my mind will never submit" (p. 64). Ultimately God does not address Job's innocence at all. It is Job's truthfulness that God commends in the epilogue. According to Mitchell, Job's motive for goodness is, at first, fear of punishment and, after being stricken, fear of even worse consequences. Agreeing with Jung's assessment that the god of the prologue is morally infe-rior to Job, Mitchell concludes that the legend must not be taken too seriously: the god of the prologue and the Accuser are soon left behind (pp. ix-xii). Mitchell does not question why the author included the legend rather than omitting it altogether. One rea-son would be that the familiar story was a means for contrasting the poem's insights. I would suggest that the god of the prologue describes Job's god. This god, appearing as the cavalier business-god sitting at the top of the corporate ladder, is a good match for the Job whom Mitchell calls the "perfect moral business-man" (p. ix). I would also submit that this was the god of many of the author's audience as well. And since, as Mitchell points out, the patient Job of the legend rather than the desperately impatient Job of the poem became proverbial in Western culture (p. viii), it seems Even good qualities or ¯. ,practi~es can become idolatry ~, wh~en they :and one s own self ~ ~ bec~ome t~hefocus instead of God. 68.3 2009 Maskulak ¯ ~ob'~ Difficult Transformation that this god has remained alive and well over the cen-turies. This god of the prologue bears no resemblance to the God of creation, the God of the burning bush, the God of deliverance from Egypt, and certainly not the God of the whirlwind to be revealed. Job's wife is right. This god needs to be cursed, and that part of Job which believed in this god must surely die. Job's companions, who have appeared briefly but silently in the prologue, do not agree with Job's wife. They never abandon the god of the prologue, and so, when they do speak, they provide crucial stimulus to Job's transformation. In Mitchell's view, Job's friends are supporting actors repeating the same arguments over and over. Because Job's questioning challenges their view of God and the world, they actually speak to their own fears rather than to Job. Mitchell believes that, while defending God's justice, they show that their god is a harsh judge executing their own harsh judgments. Mitchell makes an excellent point when he states, "Any idea about God, when pursued to its extreme, becomes insanity" (pp. xiv-xv). I believe, however, that, even when not pressed to an extreme, all perceptions of God are limited. I think that Job's friends play a greater role in the poem than Mitchell assigns them. For example, they are probably articulating Job's own theology up to this point in his life. Job himself admits, "I too could say such things if you were in my position" (p. 44). Another example is that Eliphaz highlights the Jewish theme of "the victim" when he points out that Job brought relief to many others and now it is his turn to be the victim (p. 17). Reflection on this thought alone raises more ques-tions. Does Job really believe that all the many people he helped in their misery were being punished for their sins? Probably so. But will he continue to believe it? Review for Religious One's view of the suffering of others is never the same once one has to grapple with one's own suffering. Part of the transformation that takes place in Job is apparent in his focus on the suffering of human beings in gen-eral instead of on his own suffering. Does Job continue to believe that people are victims of God's wrath? Not after experiencing the God of the whirlwind. As long as Job remains silent, his friends appropri-ately and compassionately remain quiet also. But as soon as Job cries out they cry out in return. They are not able to extend their silence of the first seven days into silent compassionate listening. This calls into question the amount of true compassion in their original silence. Mitchell says they have never experienced God (p. xiii), but it may also be true that they have never experienced extreme suffering. Job does suffer severely, which leads him to question God. "His question, the harrowing question of some-one who has only heard of God, is 'Why me?'" (p. xv). Mitchell calls this the wrong question, but does not say why. I believe that the "Why me?" question is too self-centered. It places the self over and against God, rather than in relationship with God. It clings to that argument, which says, "If I am good, if I am innocent, this should not happen to me." Or more pointedly, "If I am good and innocent, you should not be doing this to me." Later Mitchell sheds light on what the "right" question would have been when he writes that a question is answered which Job "wouldn't have known how to ask. God will not hear Job, but Job will see God" (p. xviii). His "see-ing" of God might better be understood as his "experi-encing" of God. I suggest that the "right" response might be "Who are you, God? And who am I in relation to you?" Or, more simply, "Reveal yourself to me." 281 68.3 2009 Maskulak ¯ j~ob's Difficult Transformation Anger or hate can ,be indicative of an underlying love. 2821 Mitchell claims that Job's outrage could not be so intense if he did not truly love God. He does not say whether he thinks the "moral businessman" of the pro-logue loves God. Rather, he compares Job to Othello, whose honesty cannot deny betrayal and whose love cannot believe it. Job accuses God for the injustice in the world, yet he senses some kind of ultimate justice (p. xvii). I agree that Job loves God. If Job did not care about God, he would not go on and on crying out. As Elie Wiesel has pointed out, indif-ference is more dan-gerous than hatred or anger.2 In a rela-tionship, anger or hate can be indica-tive of an underlying love that a person wants to be restored. As he cries out to God, Job is far from being indifferent. But, more importantly, Job is beginning to trust in God's love for him. Once the Job of the poem starts speaking out, he realizes that God is not punishing him for his accusa-tions. This gives him courage to become even bolder and more authentic. Although .it is not articulated in the poem, I believe that Job's love for God and his growing understanding of God's love for him are a crucial part of his transformation. God's response to this developing love is not, as has sometimes been perceived, the demand of unques-tioning submission. Mitchell rejects the interpretation which summarizes God's response from the whirlwind as "How dare you question the creator of the world? Shut up now, and submit" (p. xviii). He contends that there are answers to human suffering beyond theological Review for Religious propositions, but that the questioner must let them in. For Mitchell, the only answers to the great questions of life and death are personal ones, because the whole being of the person is involved (pp. xviii-xix). This is similar to Viktor Franld's belief that each person must find his or her own meaning in life, and his or her own meaning in suffering too.3 God's questions from the whirlwind ultimately dissi-pate all that Job thought he knew. "In order to approach God, Job has to let go of all ideas about God" (p. fix). Mitchell further understands God's questions as provid-ing Job with a vision filled with primal energy. It is a God's-eye view of creation before [human beings], beyond good and evil, marked by the inno-cence of mind that has stepped outside the circle of human values . What the Voice means is that para-dise isn't situated in the past or future, and doesn't require a world tamed or edited by the moral sense. It is our world, when we perceive it clearly, without eat-ing from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. It is an experience of Sabbath vision: looking at reality, the world of starving children and nuclear menace, and recognizing that it is very good (pp. xx-xxi). Upon my initial reading, this last statement par-ticularly came as a shock. My reaction was "No, the world of starving children and nuclear menace is not good!" I want to compartmentalize and say that the world as God made it is good, but children's starvation and nuclear menace in themselves are not good. Only by God's grace can they become the occasion for good. Mitchell seems to agree somewhat when he later writes that someone "who hungers and thirsts after justice is not satisfied with a menu. It is not enough for him to hope or believe or know that there is absolute justice in the universe: he must taste and see it. It is not enough 283 68.3 2009 Maskulak * ~ob's Difficult TransJbrmation 284 that there may be justice someday in the golden haze of the future: it must be now; must always have been now" (p. xxviii). Between his paragraph above and the sentence just above, Mitchell says there are no accidents and no vic-tims. He believes that, rather than being cruel, his state-ment reflects that, when one surrenders one's personal will and thus can see that all that God created is good, the past and future disappear (p. xxvii). This surrender to God is a surrender into mystery. He gives no other answer for why the innocent suffer. I can understand that from his chosen vantage point he can "see" that reality as a timeless whole is good--even with all its violence, starvation, nuclear menace, and so forth. But I still maintain that violence, the starvation of children, and nuclear menace are not good. Mitchell is bold and precise in his paraphrasing of questions about good and evil posed by God's voice in the whirlwind: "Do you really want this moral sense of yours projected onto the universe? it asks, in effect. Do you want a god who is only a larger version of a righteous judge, rewarding those who don't realize that virtue is its own reward and throwing the wicked into a physical hell? If that's the kind of justice you're look-ing for, you'll have to create it yourself. Because that is not my justice" (p. xxiii). These words make it clear that Mitchell believes that limited or narrow human concepts of morals and justice are not to be placed on God. An example that comes to mind is the parable of the vineyard workers, in which all receive the same wage regardless of how long they worked (Mt 20:1-16). Human "justice" might overlook the broader plight of those left in the marketplace all day with no work (perhaps because they appeared to be the least capable Reviev for Religious workers), who nevertheless needed to provide for them-selves and their families. In other words, human "jus-tice" often lacks compassion and a wider perspective. Mitchell states that the Beast and the Serpent in the final section of the poem are presented as God's playthings and that they challenge those who do not acknowledge God's destructive side (pp. xxiii-xxiv). This calls to mind the passage: "All you beasts, wild and tame, bless the Lord; praise and exalt him above all forever" . (Dn 3:81 NAB). Creation praises God by simply being what it is, and some of creation can be quite violent or devastating. What are the effects of Job's experience of God in the whirlwind? Does he repent? Does he submit? Mitchell disagrees with (mis-)translations of Job's final speech which have him say he "abhors" himself and "repents" in dust and ashes. He maintains that the idea conveyed is that Job "rejects" everything he said, and is "comforted by" his mortality. (pp. xxv, xxxii). Having received his answer, Job is "awe-stricken in the face of overwhelming beauty and dread" (p. xxvi). Rather than "submission," Mitchell stresses that Job's words rise from "surrender"--"a wholehearted giving-up of one-self" (p. xxvii). Surrendering oneself to God is indeed a strong act of one's free will. In the prose epilogue, Mitchell notes that Job's chil-dren appear to be the same children as in the prologue, as though they have sprung back to life (p. xxix). In Creation praises God by simply being what it is, and some of creation can be quite violent or devastating. 68.3 2009 Maskulak ¯ ~ob's Difficult Transformation 28_61 my reflection on the epilogue, a similar thought came to me via a line from Viktor Frankh "What you have experienced, no power on earth can take from you.''4 During times of suffering, human beings tend to focus entirely on their pain, loss, and so forth. This is not to deny the very real need for people to grieve their losses and attend to their pain. But at some point, in order to "move on," there needs to be a shift in the focus. I believe that, despite actual loss, whatever good some-one "had" he or she somehow still "has." One's experi-ences of good people and good things remain part of one's being, part of who one "is." Job's fulfillment does not depend on the actual reappearance of his children. He has seen and understood the "bigger picture" of life. One might challenge this view by saying that it then follows that the bad or evil of a person's life also still remains part of who he or she is. I would argue, from the philosophical axiom that bad or evil itself is a "lack," that a person never "had" something which was itself a "lack." Finally, Mitchell notes the prominence of Job's daughters in the epilogue, suggesting a shift from the righteousness and control of the male world to the beauty and peace of the feminine. Interestingly enough, he believes that the feminine, which had been denigrated in the prologue's reference to Job's wife, is now acknowledged and honored in the epilogue (p. xxx). This brings me back to my suggestion that there may be more to the advice given by Job's wife than first meets the eye. Upon reading the prologue one might ask, "Who needs a wife like that?" It seems that the answer may be "Everybody." Why? To challenge us to leave the narrow confines of our comfortable, even if good, perceptions of ourselves, others, life, and God, in Review for Religious order to grow and to be transformed into the fullness of being to which God calls us. The story of Job is a story of transformation--a story of surrender, a story of letting go. Job has to let go of people and possessions very dear to him, he has to let go of his own health, and, perhaps most difficult for a good and innocent person who loves God, he has to let go of his image and understanding of God. Each of these movements entails a considerable amount of suffering. Job's transformation unfolds through his suffering, his interaction with his wife and friends, and his honest acknowledgment of his own convictions and feelings in relation to God. The culmination is his unexpected face-to- face encounter with God. This encounter causes Job to surrender to God and to reject his notions that suffer-ing is punishment for sin or victimization by a wrathful god. The reader senses that Job leaves his encounter with God as a changed person, and full of peace. Yet one still wants to ask, "So what is the reason for innocent suffering?" Job is content, but why aren't we? Could it be that the answer is revealed only to one who, like Job, has truly grappled with suffering and with God? Would it have been enough for Job to discover that human suppositions regarding innocent suffering are incorrect? Would it be enough for anyone? What is the "pull," the fascination, of this "wrong question" when the answer seems to lie instead in a vivid encoun-ter with God that leads to complete surrender? God's speech began with: "Who is this whose igno-rant words smear my design with darkness?" (p. 79). In another context dealing with relationship, Antoine de Saint-Exup~ry writes, "Words are the source of mis-understandings.'' 5 There is more to life and suffering than words can explain. The "more" involves a personal 287 68.3 2009 Maskulak ¯ Job's Difficult Transformation encounter with God in which all other considerations become secondary. God invites us into that personal encounter by way of transformation and surrender. God is. We need not fear. God knows the why of suffering. For God all things, all times, all places, are. In that mys-tery, all of God's creation is very good. Notes I Stephen Mitchell, The Book of Job (New York: Harper Perennial, 1992). 2 Elie Wiesel, "The Perils of Indifference," 12 April 1999, The Official Site of the Presidential Medal of Freedom. ~ Viktor Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning (New York: Washington Square Press, 1984): see pp. 121,131. 4 Frankl, p. 104; see also p. 175. s Antoine de Saint-Exup~ry, The Little Prince (New York: Harcourt Brace and Co., 1971), p. 70. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection 1. Give myself the project of reading the Book of Job. 2. Do you find Maskulak's way of understanding Job a help in you own relationship with God? Review for Religious JAMES W. KINN The Central Paradox of John of the Cross ;all of John of the Cross's works, one unique para-raph is critical for our understanding of his entire teaching about the beginning of contemplation. This one paragraph, containing three paradoxes, gives us an insight into his central teaching on contemplation and will act as an outline for this article: Even though this happy night [of contemplation] dark-ens the spirit, it does so only to impart light. ; and even though it humbles a person and reveals his mis-eries, it does so only to exalt him; and even though it impoverishes and empties him of all., natural affec-tions, it does so only that he may reach out divinely to the enjoyment of all earthly and heavenly things.I John is teaching here about the passive dark night of the spirit or contemplation. The three paradoxes are: darkness leads to light, lowliness leads to rising up, and emptiness leads to fullness. He wants us to know that James W. Kinn, still an actively retired priest, writes again about John. His address remains 6318 243rd Court; Salem, Wisconsin 53168. 68.3 2009 Kinn ¯ Tbe Central Paradox of Jobn of tbe Cross 290 contemplation darkens, humbles, and empties our soul only to enlighten, to exalt, and to fill the soul. Once we grasp this one central teaching, we can understand the heart of John's teaching on the practice of contemplation. For Those at the Threshold of Contemplation John offers teaching for "proficients, at the begin-ning of their entry into . . . contemplation.''2 These "proficients" have been practicing discursive medi-tation, but now often find they are void of sensible images, imaginings, affections, and reasoning. He has just described his famous three signs for discontinuing discursive meditation: (1) one often or regularly can-not make discursive meditation, (2) one is disinclined to concentrate on sensible objects or ideas, (3) one is inclined to remain alone in loving attention on God even though the experience is dark and unsatisfying. Today that group of people would include many who are practicing simple prayer or the prayer of presence or centering prayer or praying with a sacred word or mantra. John gives a general description of what is some-times or often experienced by people who pray in these ways l At the beginning of this state the loving knowledge [of God] is almost unnoticeable. There are two rea-sons for this: first, the incipient loving knowledge is extremely subtle and delicate, and almost impercep-tible; second, a person who is habituated to the exer-cise of meditation, which is wholly sensible, hardly perceives or feels this new insensible, purely spiritual experience.3 Persons like this are at the very threshold of contempla-tion, or occasionally practice it. First, John assures them that this darkness leads to light: "As soon as natural Review for Religious things are driven out of the enamored soul, the divine are naturally and supernaturally infused, since there can be no void in nature.''4 Here John teaches that, as soon as natural thoughts and sensible images no longer occupy us in prayer, God will infuse his supernatural light into us. He assures us that, once a natural void is created, it will be filled with the action of God. This image of filling the void seems particularly forceful in our day. We are familiar with vacuum-packed coffee cans and know that as soon as we puncture the lid the outside atmosphere fills the void with a hiss. In a simi-lar way, once our prayer becomes dark or empty of all sensible images, God will fill the void with his infused grace--though the light may only be "extremely subtle and delicate" for a while. Second, John assures them that God humbles the soul only to exalt it: If a person will eliminate these impediments., void-ing himself of all forms and apprehensible images . ¯ . and [will] live in pure nakedness and poverty of spirit . . . his soul in its simplicity and purity will then be immediately transformed into simple and pure Wisdom . 5 That is, because the soul can no longer pray with the sensible images and insights of discursive meditation, it recognizes its own inability and poverty of spirit. But God will soon instruct it with his own wisdom in con-templation and so raise it up. Third, John assures them that emptiness leads to fullness: When the spiritual person cannot meditate, he should learn to remain in God's presence . . . even though he seems to himself to be idle. For little by litde and very soon the divine calm and peace with a wondrous, 68.3 2009 Kinn ¯ The Central Paradox of Jobn of the Cross sublime knowledge of God . . . will be infused into his soul . Learn to be empty of all things--inte-riorly and exteriorly--and you will behold that I am God.6 This dark and empty prayer is filled with promise, For John, emptiness of all sensible images, rational thoughts, and affections is required so that God may freely communicate himself to the soul. He promises that God will not fail to do his part and bring the soul to enjoy a new way of experiencing him. Note that all his counsel here deals with those who are at the threshold of con-templation. That is, they have reached the point where discursive medi-tation has become dark and empty. At times they may experience the beginning of contemplation, but it is usually slight and subde. What does all this mean for all of us who are in this stage of prayer? John wants us to know that this dark and empty prayer is filled with promise: ¯ He assures us that we can be content in such dark and unsatisfying prayer, for "there can be no void in nature." He means that the very darkness is the neces-sary condition for God's supernatural way of acting in our prayer. ¯ And we can be peaceful even though we can no lon-ger pray with the insights and affections we experienced in discursive meditation. Just because we are convinced of our "lowliness and misery" and find "no satisfaction in self," God esteems this lack of self-satisfaction and is ready to instruct us in his wisdom. ¯ And we can be confident even though we are empty Review for Religious and helpless, because such emptiness of sensible images, rational thoughts, and affections is required for God to communicate himself to us. "Learn to be empty of all things., and you will behold that I am God." For Those Beginning to Practice Contemplation In The Dark Night John explains why this dark night of contemplation must first darken, humble, and empty the soul before it can enlighten, exalt, and fill the soul. The affections, sentiments, and apprehensions [of contemplation] are of another sort and are so eminent and so different from [those experienced naturally in discursive meditation] that their . . . possession demands the annihilation and expulsion of the natural affections and apprehensions; for two contraries cannot coexist in one subject. Hence. this dark night of con-templation must necessarily annihilate [the soul] first and undo it in its lowly ways by putting it in dark-ness, dryness, conflict, and emptiness. For the light imparted to the soul . . . transcends all natural light and does not belong naturally to the intellect.7 His argument is straightforward: "two contraries can-not exist in one subject" at the same time. Therefore, "this dark night of contemplation must necessarily. undo [the soul] in its lowly ways by putting it in darkness ¯ . . and emptiness. For the [divine] light transcends all natural light." That is, the normal way for our intellect to operate is by means of sensible objects, but in con-templation God affects the soul directly, without sen-sible images¯ A few chapters later John describes his first paradox: this darkness leads to light: When you see your., faculties incapacitated for any interior exercise, do not be afflicted; think of this as a grace, since God is freeing you from yourself [so that now] God takes you by the hand and guides you in [ 293 68.3 2009 Kinn * The Central Paradox of yobn of the Cross 294 darkness, as though you were blind, along a way and to a place you do not know.s He immediately adds that you will succeed "in reach-ing this place," where the light "transcends all natural light." The second paradox is that God humbles the soul in order to exalt it. John insists that this humility and pov-erty of spirit leads to exaltation by God: The soul must first be set in emptiness and poverty of spirit . Thus empty, it is truly poor . . . and thereby able to live that new and blessed life which is the state of union with God, attained by means of this night.9 That is, humility and "poverty of spirit" will lead to the union with God that is our exaltation. The third paradox is that emptiness leads to fullness. The best quote for this is in The Living Flame:~° When the soul frees itself of all things and attains to emptiness., concerning them, which is equivalent to what it can do of itself, it is impossible that God fail to do his part by communicating himself to it, at least secretly and silendy.~ Here John guarantees that, as long as the soul is empty and passive, God will do his part soon and without fail. So, though the soul is passive and empty, it can be con-fident that the emptiness will result in God's presence and light. What does all this mean for us as we begin to prac-tice contemplation? John's answer is found in the cen-tral quote we are focused on: Even though this happy night darkens the spirit, it does so only to impart light. ; and even though it humbles a person and reveals his miseries, it does so only to exalt him; and even though it impoverishes Re-view for Religious and empties him of all., natural affection, it does so only that he may reach out divinely to the enjoyment of all earthly and heavenly things.12 Above, when John was speaking about those on the threshold of contemplation who simply could no lon-ger pray with discursive meditation, he assured them that even then this natural stage of prayer is filled with promise, for such dark and empty prayer is the neces-sary condition for God's supernatural way of acting in our prayer. He wanted them to know, even then, that as soon as they create this natural void God will soon fill that void with his presence. But now John's counsel is for those who are actually beginning to practice contemplation. His counsel clearly parallels his advice regarding that earlier stage of prayer. But here the darkness and emptiness are not just natural effects of ordinary prayer. Rather, for those beginning to practice contemplation, the very nature of contempla-tion is such that it increases the darkness and emptiness in three ways: (1) this dark night "darkens the spirit" so that no sensible objects ,. or thoughts can occupy the --~ mind or distract it; (2) it "humbles the person" with a sense of his own incapacity and poverty of spirit; (3) it "empties him of all natural affections" for material things. That is why the darker the night, the more receptive we are to God's light, and the more we know our poverty, the more open we are to God's power, and the more empty we are, the more we can passively await God's fullness. .i The .darker the night, ithe more receptive we are God's light. 68.t 2009 Kdnn ¯ The Central Paradox of John of the Cross 296 The second part of these three counsels is entirely positive and filled with promise. John assures us that the darkness is only to impart light, the sense of lowliness is only to exalt us, and the emptiness is only to fill us with God's presence. Summing up: , ¯ The purpose of the darkness of contemplation is so that God can take us by the hand and impart a light that "transcends all natural light." ¯ The purpose of the poverty of spirit is so that God can raise us up to a new union with him. ¯ The purpose of the emptiness we feel regarding all we can do by our ordinary prayer is so that God may do his part "by communicating himself to [us], at least secretly and silently." Such is the genius of John of the Cross's counsel for us at the beginning of contemplation. This triple para-dox permits us to be content in the darkness, because that is the necessary condition for God's supernatural light; we can be peaceful in our poverty of spirit, for "there can be no void in nature," no vacuum in super-nature; we can be confident in our emptiness for "it is impossible that God fail to do his part by communicat-ing himself to [us], at least secretly and silently." Notes Dark Night, 2.9.1. Ascent, 2.15, chapter tide and paragraph I. Ascent, 2.13.7. Ascent, 2.15.4. Ascent, 2.15.4. Ascent, 2.15.5. Dark Night, 2.9.2 (emphasis added). Dark Night, 2.16.7. Dark Night, 2.9.4. Review for Religious ~0 Living Flame, 3.30-62. Throughout this section, John of the Cross is instructing spiritual directors how to help those who are beginning to practice contemplation, when "God begins to wean the soul., and place it in the state of contemplation." '~ Living Flame, 3.46 ~2 Dark Night, 2.9.1. "kecharitom~ne" the word he spoke was redolent and to hear his voice was to be cut with scent knelt before my feet, his head was bent his speech and manner fragrant .for love he said he had been sent and this the promise immanent grace and joy are yours, but with lament his words like light caressed my ear it was as if my heart could smell and hear as if each sense were all and each was clear as if I were unclothed and my skin was sheer though in his presence I knew not shame nor fear what strength and sweetness was to me so near but in his eyes like stars there stood a tear far more than joy he said is yours to know and if all generations on your name bestow praise and honor in heaven high and earth below it is because your pierced heart will show the thoughts of many, both swift and slow, for from your flesh His bones shall grow and from your milk His blood will flow Sean Edward Kinsella [-297 68.t 2009 JOHN H. ZUPEZ Connecting through Prayer ~di~all find ourselves in the dumps at times, feeling connected from others. Perhaps this is our usual feeling when we wake up in the morning and have not yet consciously made any "connect" with God or with others. And there are specific incidents that leave us alienated, adrift in spirit: when we are misunder-stood or ignored by others, when we offend others and have no immediate opportunity to reconcile with them, when our selfish behavior alienates us from the Spirit within us. Morning prayer with the church has traditionally served as a connect for Christians. When it is celebrated in common, we experience the Christian communi-ty's support. Or, when said in a meditative manner, it becomes a connect with God, as it did for the early monks who lived in the desert, largely devoid of human 2981 John H. Zupez SJ wrote on petitionary prayer in our May-June 1992 issue. In recent years he has taught in seminaries in Nigeria and Zimbabwe. He was recently appointed pastor of Corpus Christi Church; 1005 N.E. 15th Street; Oklahoma City, Oklahoma 73117. Review f~ Religious contacts. But, said alone and quickly, it may not produce the intended effect of connecting us to what is most enduring and nourishing in our faith. Married people can find in their intimate relation-ship a deep connect. St. Paul used this relationship as a model for the connect between Christ and his "bride," the church. However, just as married love grows cold at times, so our relationship with the church does not always give us a sense of intimacy with Christ. Prayer That Connects At times of disconnect we may find prayer difficult, but it depends on how we pray. As our relationship with God matures, prayer becomes less a matter of running through prayers vocally or trying to influence God through petitions. It becomes more a reflection on how near God is to us. The words of most prayers do not mention explicidy our connectedness to God or to one another, but the connect is implicit. I suggest that we benefit by making it more explicit. We can pray in a way that makes conscious our connectedness to other people and to a world which we know in faith to be filled with divine meaning and purpose. Thus prayer becomes an antidote for the loneliness that assails us when we feel disconnected: cold, dry, alienated, "in the dumps." For instance, when saying the Our Father, we can pause to reflect on the richness of the word "our." In faith we know that every person is our brother or sis-ter since we are related through Jesus, our brother. We know, too, that all that God has made, everything around us, is for our use and enjoyment, a loving father's gifts to us personally. Then the next word, "Father," bespeaks the warmth of the Father's love revealed in the father of the Prodigal and also in Jesus himself, the 68.3 2009 Zupez * Conneaingthrough Prayer Good Shepherd, like us in all but sin, bearing lost sheep and all his crosses so that we may feel closer to him in times of difficulty. The rest of the Our Father elaborates on attitudes that follow from our being children of a loving God, attitudes that connect us to God's coming kingdom, to God's will for us, to God's beneficence in satisfying our needs, and to God's immediate presence to us in moments when we need forgiveness. The simple words "Our Father" become rich in connotation as we reflect on who this Father is and on how everything is ours in Jesus Christ, who came to restore all things to God. Similar reflection turns all of our prayer into a con-scious connect with God and with our neighbor. This connect is facilitated by the deeper insight that passes into our prayer from more relaxed reflection, as on days of recollection or during times of spiritual retreat. Morning Offering The more reflective approach to pr

Issue 62.3 of the Review for Religious, 2003. ; Holiness Religious Life Saintly Mentoring QUARTERLY 62.3 2003 . to God's Universal call tO ,holiness that flow from tbe~cbarisms of Catholic consecrated life. 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: 314-977-7363 ° 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. ©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 the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Adviso~7 Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Adrian Gaudin SC 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 62.3 2003 contents 230 holiness Be Holy as God Is Holy George A. Maloney SJ reflects on the holiness of God and our own holiness from the evidences of Scripture. 239 Praying with the Body: Not Running Ahead of Grace Rende Nienaber SND describes a number of ways to enter into prayer by involving our bodies. 251 religious life Prophetic Voice in Religious Life Elizabeth A. Dreyer reflects on two aspects of being a prophet--being an agent of change and living a contemplative existence--and issues a challenge to religious life. Review for Religious 269 Charism: Is Marketing Needed? Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR proposes a refinement in a religious congregation's method of research into its charism by examining its own continuing pastoral care and pastoral sensitivity in relation to the founder's. 287 John of the Cross's Message for Today Ernest E. Lark.in OCarm indicates how contemporary forms of contemplative prayer--centering prayer, Christian Meditation, and the Jesus Prayer--fit into John of the Cross's teaching on contemplation. 301 Catherine McAuley's Reliance on Providence Mary Judith O'Brien RSM examines the life of Catherine McAuley, foundress of the Sisters of Mercy, as an example of one who surrenders her whole being in trust to God. epar r en s 228 Prisms 316 Canonical Counsel: Effects of Departure 324 Book Reviews 62.3 2003 prisms A great gift of the four constitu-tions of the Second Vatican Council--on the church (Lumen gentium), on divine revelation (Dei verbum), on the sacred liturgy (Sacrosanctum concilium), and on the church in the modern world (Gaudium et spes)--is their readability and their applicability. The matters treated in them can continue to enhance our Catholic life. Whereas the Council of Trent in the 16th cen-tury was needed to put the church's own house in order (the Catholic reformation), Vatican Council II in the 20th century, identified as a pastoral council, looked to revitalizing our faith practice and our mis-sionary effort (Catholic renewal) as we became more fully engaged in the world we live in. We might describe Vatican II as addressing the problem of a distance many Catholics felt from a God in heaven, from Jesus Christ in their awed reverence toward the Blessed Sacrament, from the church in its authority, and from our world itself (b~cause it was "out there"). The church, too, often seemed "out there," embodied in pastors and bishops and encycli-cals that were not exactly us. Vatican II reminded Catholics that they belonged, that baptism made them "the people of God," with rights and responsibilities in the church. God's word in the Bible had sometimes seemed only a Protestant thing, or a Latin thing that priests preached about in English. Catholics were often more touched and uplifted by holy hours honoring the Sacred Heart and evening devotions in honor of Our Lady of Perpetual Help than they were by Mass and the various sacraments. The Mass in Latin had a Revie~ for Religious certain majesty and mystery within our small or large churches, but people attended at a distance, often deliberately towards the rear. Though we in the United States did not generally feel excluded or constrained in our parishes, when we now look back we see ourselves as having lived and learned our faith in a kind of ghetto outside the mainstream of our country. The four constitutions and the decrees of Vatican II changed our ways of thinking and acting. They called on all of us to take responsibility not only for our own adult faith lives, but also for the talent and improvement we can bring to national cultures and values and international ones as well. All our lives long we are being continually formed by the word of God and by God's providence in the events of our lives. In this way we come to know Jesus Christ better, as our Lord and Savior and also as our friend in the joys and difficulties of our lives. Baptized into Jesus' life, death, and resurrection and thus into his priesthood too, we share, with the ordained leadership of our bishops, priests, and deacons, in celebrating the Eucharist and the other sacraments. Our church looks on our world with neither fear nor disdain, but seeks to be involved hopefully and helpfully in its happiness and sorrows. Yes, Vatican II has increased the participation of many in all things Catholic. Now recent Roman documents dealing with liturgy, Eucharist, and devotions like the rosary have been issu-ing a call, recalling for us our human need of reverence in deal-ing with God and the things of God. Family love and friendship, yes, but overfamiliarity has less place in the family of God than in ordinary families. We are being reminded that, as well-loved creatures, we still need awe and reverence towards our Creator, and even towards the people in our lives, nearby and on the other side of the world. We are being called to the Trinitarian roots of our Catholic spirituality--a grand unity in an unfath-omable tension. In our relation to God and one another, we yearn to give and receive loving reverence, reverent love. David L. Fleming SJ 62.3 2003 holiness GEORGE A. MALONEY Be Holy as God Is Holy St. Paul, writing to the Ephesians, teaches these new Christians the essence of God's calling in Christ Jesus: Before the world was made, he chose us in Christ to be holy and spotless and to live through love in his pres-ence, determining that we should become his adopted children through Jesus Christ for his own kind pur-poses. (Ep 1:4-5) In all of the Old and New Testaments, we will not find any words to express, as the words holi-ness and holy do, the mystery of the perfection in the Trinitarian community of love and the mys-tery of God's will revealed through Jesus Christ: "to be holy and spodess and to live through love in his presence." It is sad that many Christians have never had a true scriptural meaning of holi-ness and what it means for us to be holy. George A. Ma]oney SJ last wrote for us in May-June 2002. His address is Contemplative Ministries; 13338 Del Monte Drive, #3-K; Seal Beach, California 90740. Revie~ for Religiou~ We need to ask God to show what holiness really means: his holiness first and then our own holiness. God's power can be seen and heard in nature, in lightning and thunder and rushing waters. But in describing God's holi-ness we are, in a way, trying to touch the "insideness" of God, the source of everything good and beautiful that we ever see or hear or feel. God's holiness is God in his per-fection as infinitely loving. Holiness is the totality of God's being moving outward as gift toward the other, toward human beings and angels. We read in the Book of Leviticus: For it is I, Yahweh, who am your God. You have been sanctified and have become holy because I am holy. Yes, it is I, Yahweh, who have brought you out of Egypt to be your God; you, therefore, must be holy because I am holy. (Lv 11:44-45) God Is Holy in Things and Places and Persons Moses fell back before the holiness of Yahweh in the burning bush. That was "holy ground" (Ex 3:4-6). God, who is holy, had chosen to be present to Moses in that place. No human hand was permitted to touch the Ark of the Covenant because God's holy presence was there. The Ark was kept in the Holy of Holies, a special place where God would communicate with his people. Yet, when for their sanctification God's holiness touches angels and human beings, he is present more perfectly to them. He enters upon a self-giving that allows us human beings to be sharers through love in his very own nature. This has always been God's purpose in creating us: "Be holy in all you do, since it is the Holy One who has called you. As ScripUare says: 'Be holy for I am holy'" (1 P 1:15-16). God calls us to receive his holiness and thereby to become holy too, opening ourselves to his outpouring 62.3 2003 Maloney ¯ Be Holy as God Is Holy We have no way of experiencing the fullness of God's holiness except in Jesus Christ. love, to his gift to us of himself and of our neighbor. We are called to be saints--holy people--sanctified by God's holiness (see Rm 1:7; 1 Co 1:2). "We have been called by God to be holy, not to be immoral" (1 Th 4:7). God chose us from the beginning to be holy by the sanctify-ing power of the Holy Spirit (2 Th 2:13) and to "become his adopted children through Jesus Christ" (Ep 1:5). Jesus is holy, and we too are called to be holy. We have no way of experiencing the fullness of God's holi-ness except in Jesus Christ. He teaches us about God's holiness, the actions of a loving Father concerned with all the details of our daily existence. Now we know what God's holiness is like. It is like the holi-ness of Jesus as recorded in the New Testament. Jesus' Holiness and His Growing Holiness The holiness of Jesus consisted first in his having been sanctified by the Holy Spirit. He was the gift of the Father through the Spirit. All that he had Jesus received from his Father. He could not act on his own, but only on what he received from his Father (Jn 5:19, 30; Jn 8:28). It is the Father who sent him into the world and consecrated him, making him holy in order to bring the holiness of God to the world (Jn 10:36). Jesus was sinless because he yielded to God's Holy Spirit within him and struggled against any urge toward self-centered independence (Heb 4:1). From the Synoptic Gospel accounts of Jesus' temptations, we realize, as essential to their meaning, that he had to struggle in his heart to reach the state of loving, humble submission to his Father that eventually would mean his ignominious Review for Religious death on the cross. Jesus would grow in holiness as he fought the Prince of Darkness for dominance, both in his own life and in the lives of those he healed of demonic possession. His struggle would end only on the cross, when he was lifted up and his adversary definitively thrown down from his throne and stripped of his power. From the New Testament we see that Jesus' increas-ing holiness is in accord with the Father's Spirit in him, giving him strength to unmask and defeat the devil. He seeks and confronts the evil one and conquers him. Jesus' Temptations The three temptations of Jesus in the desert empha-size his complete attachment to his Father. Jesus under-goes temptations--much like Eve's, the feminine side of all human beings--to seize the initiative in an aggres-siveness that would deny God's sovereignty over him. Jesus refused to feed himself with anything but God's word. "You must worship the Lord God, and serve him alone" (Dr 6:13, Lk 8). The Gospels present the peak of Jesus' holiness as an exodus experience. As he grew in holiness, he was tempted to hold on to his own life rather than surrender that life on behalf of sinful mankind. Imaging the Father's holiness in his own human development, Jesus grew in each event as he sought not his own but his Father's will. "Here I am! I am coming.to obey your will" (Heb 10:9). Jesus' holiness prompted him to a joyful response to do all that his human consciousness revealed to him as falling within the area of the Father's wish or even, more sensitively, what would please his Father more (Jn 8:29). Jesus suffers his most severe sense of abandonment on the cross when he cries out loudly to his Father: "My God, my God, why have you deserted me?" (Mk 15:34). In spite of his greatest temptation to doubt, in the seem-ing absence of the Father's loving approval, Jesus pushes 62.3 2003 Maloney ¯ Be Holy as God Is Holy himself to new depths of holiness and loving surrender. In such agony Jesus attains in his human condition the holiness of God. This is the crowning in human form of the Trinity's holiness, ultimate self-giving to mankind (through abandonment and death). Holy through the Holy Spirit Jesus at the Last Supper promised that he would pour out the holy and sanctifying Spirit after his death on the cross (Jn 14:16-21). If Jesus, by the Holy Spirit, is glo-rified by the Father and is able to bestow his sanctifying Spirit upon his believers through his final sufferings, it is no less also the Holy Spirit who effects the holiness of Jesus in the days and years of his earlier human development. We can see from the Gospel narrative of his baptism how Jesus, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, was led further toward full holiness by John the Baptist in the Jordan. As Jesus came out of the water, he received a vision of the Spirit as a gentle dove and heard his Father declare from on high: "You are my Son, the Beloved; my favor rests on you" (Mk 1:11). Jesus in his humanity is swept up into an ecstatic oneness with the Father. Heaven and earth have been closed by Adam's first sin in the garden. Now God's communicating pres-ence has passed through the barrier of sin, and Jesus, God's holiness, stands within the human family. Brightness and darkness are brought together in Jesus. The presence and sanctifying action of the Holy Spirit in the life of Jesus begins with Jesus' physical exis-tence. If Paul could appeal to the Corinthians' inner dig-nity because their bodies were holy--"Your body, you know, is the temple of the Holy Spirit" (1 Co 6:19)- how much more was this a living experience of Jesus in his body! Jesus was the most free human being that ever existed because the Spirit in him linked him with the Review for Religious Father in myriad ways. Seeing his Father in the materi-ality of his body and in the physical world around him, Jesus enjoyed a serenity and contentment in being there with the Father. Sin sets up a physical, psychical, and spiritual "ner-vousness" in us because it hinders our seeing the loving presence of God in these connections. Instead, sin inclines us to exploit them, as is evident in our abuse of our appetites for food, drink, sex, material and intellec-tual possession, honor--in a word, our pride of life. Finding the Father in All of Creation Jesus was free to find the Father's providential presence in all events and circumstances inasmuch as Jesus was continuously the expressed Word of the Father. In his humanity Jesus had spe-cial gratitude and love by rea-son of his Father's gift to him of intimate friends. He praised God in the gentle love he had for his mother, Mary, for Joseph, John, Mary and Martha, Peter and Andrew, and his other apostles and followers. Yet the freedom brought to him by God's Spirit gave Jesus an inner austerity in all of his human relationships. They were not merely gifts for him to use happily in glorifying the Father; they were diaphanous places in which to find the Father's love and then reciprocate that love by serving everyone he encountered. We cannot understand Jesus in his personal poverty and his preference for the physically, psychically, and spiritually poor people to whom he went and brought healing unless we enter into the conscious relationship Jesus knew that his Father's love for all people everywhere included full awareness of their absolute poverty. 62.3 2003 Maloney ¯ Be Holy as God Is Holy that Jesus entered as the Father's Word on earth. Jesus knew that his Father's love for all people everywhere included full awareness of their absolute poverty. We human beings are radical and ontological nonentities except for God's love poured out in unselfish creation. God is absolute love because he is perfectly holy and self-giving. Jesus' Poverty and Service of Others Jesus lived poorly, by the inner richness of his Father's continued gif~ of himself to him. This poverty can be called humility. Jesus was nothing; the Father was all. Jesus was absolutely poor because no thing possessed him. He was possessed only by his Father, and so he saw created things only as external indications of the inner emptiness of human beings before the Allness of his Father. Jesus served others because that is love in action. He was expressing in human ways the love of God the Father for them. The Father's compassion for his children was the source of Jesus' compassion for them. Jesus burned with desire to actualize the Father's presence in the life of everyone he met (Lk 12:49). He went about doing good, especially by healing all types of sickness and dis-ease. He was never more the perfect image of the heav-enly Father than when he saw the multitudes scattering and fainting like sheep without a shepherd and was moved with mercy and compassion (Mt 9:36). Jesus' Prayer Jesus' holiness is shown also in his prayer life. The Gospels give us much teaching by Jesus on how to pray, but they also give us nuanced pictures of Jesus at prayer. He prays to his Father in the company of his disciples, but also alone. The Evangelists have grasped the intrin-sic relation of Jesus' prayer and his holiness. From their descriptions of Jesus in prayerful communion with his Review for Religious Father, we see that his prayer is always linked with the coming of God's kingdom. Jesus usually prays in solitude, away from his disci-ples, deeply immersed for long periods, even all night. He seeks the face of his Father in praise and thanksgiv-ing, in petitions that follow from his desire that God's kingdom come. In such prayer Jesus touches the holi-ness of the Father and is filled with a like holiness that lives to serve the Father, his Abba. The Holy Spirit fills him with this filial trust in the holiness of his Father, and thus, from his constant experience of the Spirit, Jesus teaches others to pray to the Father in the Spirit, con-vinced that they would be granted everything they needed for their total happiness as the Father's children. Living in the Holy of Holies In awe of God's holiness, we are not to strive to be holy by doing "holy" deeds or works of holiness as though God needs us and our sacrifice. Rather, we are to obey the divine Word, enfleshed for love of us to image for us God's holiness, and to let ourselves be directed by his Holy Spirit within us. To enter into God's holiness, the place to go is our heart. By Jesus' incarnate oneness with us, by his death and resurrection and the gift of his Spirit, we now have the right to approach with boldness "into the sanctuary" by the blood of Jesus, our high priest. We have been saved by Jesus' gift of himself on the cross. Humbled by God's holiness revealed in Jesus Christ, we are enabled to be continually and joyously transformed into holiness as we seek to live lives of Christlike holiness. We are God's work of art, created in Christ Jesus "to live the good life as from the begin-ning he meant us to live it" (Ep 2:10). Now we can more easily, and in greater depth, understand how God's holi-ness makes it possible for God to be merciful towards 237 62.3 2003 Maloney * Be Holy as God Is Holy us. In our relationship with God and with others, holi-ness and mercy can never be separated. Father, Son, and Spirit: Holiness and Love Jesus is holy as his Father is holy because, in his dying on our behalf in obedience to his loving Father, his love for God reaches love's peak. He is holy by being one with God's holiness. He becomes God's holy Word in his obedience unto death (Ph 2:8). As Jesus became holy by learning obedience, so we also must do: "Although he was Son, he learned to obey through suffering; but, having been made perfect, he became for all who obey him the source of eternal sal-vation and was acclaimed by God with the title of high priest of the order ofMelchizedek" (Heb 5:8-10). When affliction comes, we are not to be constantly asking whether we accept the inevitable and submit to a will we cannot resist. Our true, loving question must be: Do we choose the will of God to be our chief good--do we delight in Christ's life principle as ours too? "My delight is to do your will, O God." Jesus sanctified himself and us by doing his Father's will constantly, to his life's end. The will of God is also our sanctification. Be holy, as God--Father, Son, and Holy Spirit--is holy. Summer Transformation August rays insinuate themselves, burrow under epidermal sheath like God's grace, work their transforming till, ripened and marked as sun votary, you preach wordlessly the gospel of repentance for a pale and chilly life. Patricia Schnapp RSM Review for Religious RENI~E NIENABER Praying with the Body: Not Running Ahead of Grace (/~("~'~ on't run ahead of grace." This truth, learned from one of my greatest teachers of prayer, insists that we can find holiness only as God grants. Even though passive prayer has often been considered the higher path, people who are highly sensate might stay in active prayer much of their lives. St. John of the Cross warns against moving too quickly from active prayer. For many, cooperating with this wisdom can involve using our bodies in prayer. Respect for God's Gifts Rationales for prayer with the body can be found in Scripture, theology, and psychology. Respect for the body. We are not pure spirits. Many heresies would have us look with disdain upon the body as the source of temptation. Within this masterpiece, however, the Spirit of God dwells. According to the creeds we profess, our bodies will, like Jesus Christ's, be raised in glory. Fundamental knowledge of God came Ren~e Nienaber SND wrote about lectio divina in our January-February 2002 issue. Her address is St. Mary of the Assumption Parish; 121 West Main Street; Alexandria, Kentucky 41001. 62.3 2003 Nienaber ¯ Praying with the Body A through our parents' bodies: a mother's gentle breast-feeding and a father's strong cradling. In many ways we already pray with our bodies: genuflecting, bowing, taking holy water, telling our rosary beads, making the sign of the cross, receiving Communion in our hands. Great people in the Hebrew Scriptures used their bodies in prayer: Miriam praising God with the timbrel, Moses praying with arms outstretched, and David dancing before the ark. The psalms especially show a people entering bodily into prayer: seeking God's face (27:8), thirsting for God (63:1), panting with open mouth (119:131). They also show a God who deals with the bodies of people, literally or metaphorically: leading them beside still waters (23:2), setting them high on a rock (27:5), hiding them under solicitous wings (63:8), making divine words sweet to the taste (119:103). No disdain for the human body in this kind of prayer! Hebrew prayer shows great respect for the human body's goodness, not the disdain espoused by Docetism, Gnosticism, Platonism, and Neoplatonism. Respect for the unity of body/soul/spirit. Such respect stands against dualism and moves us towards integration. Each part of this threefold "companionship" affects the others. Eastern religions teach that what we do with our bodies affects our prayer (for example, sitting straight and breathing attentively). We will pray better or worse, depending on the involvement of our bodies. If this is true, then we cannot find God by escaping the body. Respect for the incarnation and resurrection. Both of these doctrines involve Christ's body. His humanity belongs to the essence of our faith. Jesus prayed with his body: lifting his eyes to heaven and blessing little children. We, like him, will not find God by rejecting the body. Respect for the g~'eat commandment. Based on the Shema of the Hebrew Scriptures, our call is to love God with our Review for Religious whole self, with all of who we are, not just from our eyebrows up. In daily life we show love through our bodies: gestures, gifts, smiles, and so forth. God invites us to do the same in prayer. Respect for ourselves as images of a creative God. Praying with the body helps us to be playful like children. Childlikeness can keep the juices of prayer flowing. With the Spirit's gifts of wonder and awe, a child/adult can be ever ready for the surprises of God in prayer, like finding a treasure in a field. Respect for praying "from where we're at." Catholics are sacramental people. In part this means experiencing God as coming to us through the stuff of this earth. Prayer that begins with the body can penetrate into the inner self. Like osmosis, the senses can lead us from the exterior to the interior, from the touchable to the untouchable: the transcendent reality of God. Thus prayer involving the body can be a bridge from active to passive prayer. These two forms walk hand in hand, not against each other. To pray "from where we're at" also involves praying from "God experiences." Created reality invites us to pray with our bodies, as in John Denver's song about Annie filling up his senses. How often have we praised God with our eyes for an orange-red sunset, with our mouth for our favorite chocolate dessert, with our nose for the evergreen freshness,. With our ears for the ocean roar. God is the original "surround sound." We can get lost in ecstasy through such continuing revelations of the divine. Our call is to love God with our whole self, with all of who we are, not just from our eyebrows up. 62.3 2003 Nienaber ¯ Praying with the B~dy Blessings of Body Prayer Besides these six forms of respect, prayer with the body can be an antidote to one of the main complaints about prayer: that it is boring. God wants our prayer to bring us life "to the full" (In 10:10). Prayer helps us dispose ourselves. God is the initiator of prayer and the responder to our desires. We can, however, prepare ourselves for the gift of prayer with our very bodies. For example, with our eyes we can gaze lovingly upon a crucifix, icon, or sunrise. With our hands we can touch bur heart or ears. With our mouth we can smile at God or whisper words of Scripture. Prayer helps us keep attentive. Too ubiquitous is the temptation not to pray because "I'm too distracted" or "Nothing happens." Involving our bodies in prayer can lessen those excuses because the pray-er remains grounded. For example, in praying about Jesus healing the woman with a hemorrhage, we can involve our body in such ways as these: coming before Jesus trembling and hopeful, reaching out to touch his garment, or pleading with our face for the gift of God's healing. Prayer helps us remember blessings. When prayer remains too cerebral, the pray-er can seldom recall the experience of God's grace. Involving the body can help the mind to focus rather than flounder. The experience of prayer is crystallized, thus becoming a memento of God's goodness. Forty Possibilities for Praying with the Body ¯ Hold a rock and remember examples of God's steadfast love. ¯ Hold a rock and consider how God might want to change your heart. ¯ Hold a pearl and feel how precious you are to God. ¯ Hold a pearl and consider how much God is your pearl of great price. ¯ Hold a pearl and be grateful for all the pearls in your life (people, experiences, events). ¯ Hold a pillow to your chest, trying Review for Religious to experience God or Jesus as a nursing mother for yourself, someone in special need, or even an enemy. ¯ Hold two coins tightly, like the widow's mite, representing what you do not want to let go of. When ready, release each coin. ¯ Hold a small seed (like a mustard seed) and ask for growth in faith, confidence, love, etc. ° Hold a seashell and ask to be more aware of God's dwelling in the deepest chamber of your heart. ¯ Hold an apple and know yourself to be the apple of God's eye. ¯ Hold a cactus and flower and ask God to bring life to your dryness. ¯ Hold a "lily of the field" and know how much more valuable you are to God than that. ° Hold a crucifix to feel the gift of Jesus' self-giving love. ¯ Walk slowly, aware that you journey lovingly with God, like Adam in the garden. ¯ Walk, aware that God is at your right hand, so you have nothing to fear. ¯ Walk, aware of the challenge to go the "extra mile" with God or another. ¯ Walk under the stars and moon. Delight in God's greatness and beauty. ¯ Walk slowly, just to restore your inner harmony. ° Sit in a rocking chair or porch swing, and allow yourself to be lulled by God. ¯ Sit with your shoes off, with reverence, like Moses before the burning bush. ¯ Sit near a tree whose roots are partly exposed. Touch the roots and the bark and know your groundedness in God. ¯ Squeeze modeling clay to get in touch with God's desire to fashion you further. ¯ Form modeling clay into some specific image God might be forming you into now. ¯ Form modeling clay into the image you would like to have of God. ° Dance your personal Magnificat or Gloria. ¯ Dance your own DayenuI after writing a list of people and experiences for which you are grateful. ¯ Whistle, skip, or show your delight with God in other ways. ¯ Inhale slowly, realizing that your breath is the very ruah of God flowing through you. ° Inhale what you need from God (peace, forgiveness, etc.). Exhale the opposite (unrest, 62.3 2003 Nienaber ¯ Praying with the Body unforgiveness, etc.). ¯ Inhale, letting God speak a word of love. Exhale, returning that word. ¯ Inhale, simply breathing in the goodness of God. ¯ Sit in the breeze. Let it blow through you as the Spirit wills. ¯ Sit in the breeze. Just let it surround you with God's gende presence. ¯ Sit in the breeze or in front of a fan. Feel Jesus breathing the Holy Spirit into you. ¯ Prostrate yourself to get in touch with your littleness, sinfulness, or need for God. ¯ Lie face up, as if paralyzed, accepting your need for God at every moment. ¯ Smile at God and feel God's smile in return. ¯ Look in a mirror and delight in the person God has created, is creating, and will continue to create. ¯ Tighten your fist in confidence against your enemies or fears. ¯ Cup your hands to your ears to emphasize a willingness to listen to God. Be attentive to a storm, and let the reality of God's power penetrate your being. More Suggestions, Involving the Easter Symbols Water ¯ Drink very slowly, using this mantra or a similar one: "Give me to drink." ¯ Sit by flowing waters or running water, and let the sound bring God's calm. ¯ Splash water on yourself to bring God's refreshment. ¯ Sprinkle water freely on your head to experience that God does not give the Spirit "by measure." ¯ Enter into a soft rain. Experience in it God's gentle, abundant presence. ¯ Let rain remind you that God sends "rain on the just and unjust." ¯ Be attentive to a storm, and let the reality of God's power penetrate your being. ¯ Pour water over your feet as if Jesus were ministering to you. White Garment ¯ Be aware of your clothes next to your skin; sense that God touches you even more intimately. ¯ Wrap your hands in strips of cloth, like Review for Religious Lazarus. Let God unbind you. ¯ Place a sheet or blanket over your head to feel your own overshadowing by the Holy Spirit. ¯ Place a sheet or blanket around your shoulders and body to feel the protection of God's "wings." ¯ Move with a blanket around your shoulders and feel that you, too, can fly on eagle's wings. ¯ Touch a bedspread tassel, like touching Jesus' garment, while praying for healing like the woman with the hemorrhage. Light/Fire ¯ Squint and let the rays of a candle penetrate your heart or mind with healing. ¯ Hold a candle near your body to feel the warmth of God within. ¯ Let a flame represent the Spirit of God. Ask for wisdom in a present confusion. ° Let the candle flame open your eyes to see the good in someone whom you do not like right now. ¯ Sit wordlessly before the sunrise or sunset, and use a mantra such as "Fill me with your light." ¯ Walk in midday. As you see the sun peeking through the trees, think of God as winking at you. ¯ Pray in the dark of night with only a vigil light. ¯ Pray one of the biblical stories of a blind person. Do this in the dark or with your eyes tighdy covered. Hands/Oil ¯ Hold your own hand to get in touch with God's strength, comfort, nearness, etc. ¯ Touch your heart or carotid artery. Let every pulse be a prayer of love to God. ¯ Touch with your hands or Bible the parts of your body that need healing (for example, eyes for being judgmental, mouth for talking about others, ears for listening to gossip, etc.). ¯ "Anoint" yourself with oil in areas that need healing. ° Rub in scented lotion to remind yourself that you are to be the aroma of Christ. ¯ Pour oil on your feet, representing the feet of someone you need to forgive. Bread/Wine ¯ Hold a piece of bread or loaf of bread, asking, "Give me (us) this bread always." ¯ Hold different kinds of bread. Break them and get in touch with your brokenness and that of others. ¯ Hold a loaf of bread and 62.3 2003 Nienaber ¯ Pra~in~ with the Bod~ know that God will not give you a stone if you ask for bread. ¯ Take a clear glass of water and add red food coloring, representing the change at Cana and in yourself. ¯ Sip wine very slowly, letting it rest in your mouth. "Taste and see the goodness of the Lord." ¯ Sit in a grape arbor to pray the passage of the vine and branches. Two Extended Examples of Praying with the Body Psalm 23. Giv~ yourself plenty of time to enter into this beloved psalm. A day could easily be spent on it. If possible, pray Psalm 23 out of doors. The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want; I will never be in need; I lack notbing.--Try to feel how God has faithfully cared for you through people, events, and other blessings. I lie in green grass, verdant pastures, lush meadows.--If you can, lie down outside; otherwise, embrace the verdure in some physical way. For example, hug a leaf to your heart. Stand or sit, if possible, beneath the shade of a large tree. The shepherd leads me beside restful waters, peaceful streams, quiet pools.--If possible, go outside where you can be close to living waters. Otherwise, use a fountain or simply the faucet in your room. Spend time listening to the flow of the waters until you begin to feel calm. The shepherd refreshes my soul, revives my soul, restores my souL--To "help" the shepherd revive you, splash different parts of your body. The shepherd guides me in right paths, in paths of righteousness, in paths of virtue.--Walk slowly and mindfully, trying to feel the presence of the shepherd at your right hand. Even though I walk in a gloomy valley, a dark valley, the darkest valley . . . --Get in touch with any darkness in your life right now. Then close or cover your eyes and continue walking. With his rod and staff the shepherd gives me courage, Review for Religious comfort, security.--Use something to represent the "rod and staff" (like a broom handle or a walking stick). Walk, still in the darkness, with the safety of the walking stick. You could also sit with the handle against your back, trying to feel God's presence and comfort. You spread for me a table, a feast, a banquet.--Eat some of your favorite food. Yearn for the Eucharistic feast and the final banquet in God's reign. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows, runs over, brims oven--Use lotion to "anoint" your head, heart, gut, or any part of you that needs God's abundance. If you lack lotion, pour water on yourself, even on your head. Surely goodness and kindness, goodness and mercy, goodness and love, follow me always.--Con-clude as you began, getting in touch with God's abundance. This could involve returning to some significant ex-perience during this prayer, like listening to the water or pouring water on yourself. If you cannot fully accept this goodness that God promises, let God speak this verse to your heart. And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever, for my whole life long, for as long as I live.--Again get in touch with the presence of the shepherd in your past. Know that the same shepherd has blessed your life with this psalm in the present. Be assured that you can depend on this faithful shepherd throughout your future. Amen! Walk slowly and mindfully, trying to feel the presence of the shepherd at your right hand. The Song of Songs might be the backdrop for an extended date with Jesus--at least a whole day, perhaps a whole week of retreat. The suggestions that follow are 62.3 2003 Nienaber ¯ Praying with the Body geared for an extended length of time. They are intended to give numerous supporting ideas to the text, not specific suggestions on how to pray the Song of Songs itself. The setting. Bring in some favorite flowers and food. Play special love music between prayer times. Burn a fragrant candle or some incense. Anoint yourself with precious lotion. Dress in your favorite clothes. Getting started. Ask that you heart might be ravished. Ask to grow in desire for God; ask to know God's desire for you. Pray while lying on your bed, porch swing, or chaise lounge. Put something under your head to represent the lover's left hand there. During the day. Take a walk "hand in hand" with your Beloved. Sing/dance favorite love songs from your era; let Jesus sing back to you. Draw a mandala2 to express your love. Spend time looking into the eyes of the beloved, while the beloved gazes back at you. Whisper your words of love. Smile to your beloved. Mantra. "You are my Beloved in whom I am well pleased." Experience this mantra in different ways. See it in the beauty of the flowers. Taste it in your special food or drink. Feel it in the warmth of a candle. Smell it in the scent of incense. Touch it in your favorite clothes. Hear it in the music you play or sing. Journaling. Write your favorite names for Jesus and/or his for you. Write your own figures of speech for your beloved; write his for you. Compose a love letter to Jesus. Meal ideas. When you eat, think of being brought into your beloved's banqueting table. Eat slowly and linger after the meal. Eucharistic connection. Ask that your heart may burn within you as Jesus reveals himself in the breaking of the bread. When you receive from the cup, realize that you are drinking the wine of divine love. Fast for an extended period before Eucharist in order to enter more fully into communion, hunger more for God's loving presence, Review for Religious taste the divine goodness, and experience God's abundance. Other Suggestions Some psalms are particularly conducive to body prayer: Psalms 16:5-11; 23; 27; 63:1-8; 91; 131; 139:1-18; 150. Among the best Isaiah readings for prayer with the body are Isaiah 35:1-6; 40:29-31; 43:1-4; 49:14-16; 55:1- 13; 66:10-14a. Other excellent sensate passages from the prophets include Jeremiah 17:7-8; 18:1-6; Ezekiel 36:26- 27; 37:1-14. A sampling of helpful gospel passages: Matthew 5:13- 16; 6:25-34; 7:1-12; 14:22-33; Mark 4:35-41; 5:25-34; 8:22-26; 10:46-52; Luke 1:26-38; 5:3-10; John 2-1-11; 4:7-15; 11:38-44; 13:2-17; 15:1-11; 20:11-18; 20:19-23. The ideas offered here can be useful for running with grace, not ahead of it. They are useful for sensates as well as for intuitives who are developing their sensate function. Depending on the person's disposition, physical condition, and prayer setting, some suggestions will work and others will not. Many ideas listed here, however, have blessed my directees and me for many years. I trust that others who are willing to follow their own creative childlikeness will experience God profoundly in'body prayer. Although the kairos3 of a retreat setting works best, any place or time can be an occasion for the self-revelation of God in our ordinary lives. For centuries St. Paul has called us to use our bodies "for the glory of God" (1 Co 6:20). In our contemporary setting, Tilden Edwards (from the Shalem Institute) says, "Amazing things happen when our bodies join our minds in opening to God." Notes ~ Dayenu is a song from the Jewish Passover service. In it the refrain "that would have been enough" is a response to the abundance of God's 62.3 2003 Nienaber ¯ Praying with the Body blessings (for example, "If you had just fed us with manna from the desert, that would have been enough"). 2 Mandala is a Sanskrit word meaning circle or center. It is an ancient symbol of wholeness. Making a mandala (a circular drawing) is a way to come into contact with deeper wisdom from the center within, the unconscious. 3 Kairos is a Greek word meaning the "right time," a time of opportunity. It can suggest fulfillment or the timelessness of eternity, where God's presence abounds. Piet~ Her head is slightly bowed, the gravity of love bending her to him, his death a weight more ponderous than stone. Her hand is stretched out, helpless to account for what the world has come to. What does that open, lifted hand convey? Does it implore the mercy of a hidden God, or beg to know the outcome of a plan incomprehensible to her? Does her hand commend her Son to us and plead for pity, for consideration of his innocence, for justice? I see that hand outstretched for us to take, reminded that her suffering is much like ours: in pain she, too,. is plunged in silence, brokenhearted as she contemplates the loss of all she loves. Kate Martin OSC Review for Religious ELIZABETH A. DREYER Prophetic Voice in Religious Life The desert fathers and mothers had a tradition of going to their abba or amma for a "word" of wisdom. When I was asked to give this 150th-anniversary address, the word prophecy came immediately to mind. Prophecy has been a constant of religious life. Women and men reli-gious, speaking prophetic words, have be-queathed the church and society a legacy of reform and renewal. My interest in prophecy emerged from my reflection on moral courage, which it seemed to me is in rather short supply these days--in society, in business, in education, in politics, and in the church. The road from moral courage to prophecy is not a long one. Who could have predicted even a year or two ago the church's current need of prophetic voices? Numbers of people have seen the prophetic call as central to the charism of Elizabeth A. Dreyer, professor in the Department of Religious Studies of Fairfield University, first presented this paper in September 2002 to inaugurate the 150th year of the Sisters of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin in Petersham, Massachusetts. Her address is Department of Religious Studies; Fairfield University; Fairfield, Connecticut 06430. 62.3 2003 Dreyer * Prophetic Voice in Religious Life religious life.1 Though everyone in the church is called to a prophetic life, institutes of vowed religious have had a distinctive and notable prophetic role down through the ages. It is a challenge to speak of prophecy, for prophecy means spealdng in the name of God. Being a prophet is akin to falling in love: you cannot decide to be a prophet. Nor can you declare that you are one or even be sure that someone else truly is one. The whole business is rife with the dangers of egotism. But there is also danger in refusing to accept the gift of prophecy, in not praying for the courage to be a prophet, and in neglecting to support those around us who are prophets. Timidity and self-protection stem from the knowledge--whether conscious and unconscious--that prophetic activity is dangerous to one's health. And yet the Christian life calls us to learn about and imitate the prophets who have gone before us and on whose shoulders we stand. Our Jewish heritage includes an impressive list of prophets: Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Daniel, Hosea, Amos, Micah, and others. For Christians, John the Baptist, preparing the way for Jesus, is the prophetic model par excellence. But above all is Jesus, the Jew who fully embodied his tradition of prophetic compassion and courage, dying for his love of the outcast and the stranger, and confronting the religious status quo when it worked against the good of the people. More recently, interest in women's history has awakened us to the lives of prophetic women in the church. Historian Karen L. King notes that in every century women have exercised leadership in Christian communities and that their leadership has been contested. In the first centuries most of the clear cases of women's leadership "based their legitimacy on claims to prophetic experience," but Jo Ann McNamara suggests that, by the mid 3rd century, prophetic voices were overshadowed by Review for Religious clerical organization and leadership? At the Second Vatican Council, when Cardinal Suenens wanted to include in Lumen gentium a section on the share of every baptized person in Christ's prophetic office, Cardinal Ruffini argued that an emphasis on charism could endanger the institutional church.3 Happily today we look not only to John the Baptist and Paul but also to Mary, the mother of Jesus, Mary Magdalene, Phoebe, Priscilla, and Maximilla; martyrs Agatha, Lucy, Theodora, Perpetua and Felicity, and their 20th-century sisters Ita Ford, Maura Clarke, Jean Donovan, and Dorothy Kazel. Each community has its own list of prophetic figures. The Sisters of the Assumption have founding sisters Leocadie Bourgeois, Julie Heon, Mathilde Leduc, and Hedwige Buisson and later figures such as Alice Mignault and Marguerite Gauthier. More recent prophetic voices of women religious include Margaret Traxler (+2002), Theresa Kane, Mary Luke Tobin, Margaret Brennan, Anita Caspary, Mary Daniel Turner, and Joan Chittister. At this historical moment, how are we to think about the prophetic voice? What are its potentials and pitfalls? Endeavoring to be faithful to the gospel and God's reign on earth, how are we to support prophetic thinking and activity in the 21st century--for the health of each religious community, for religious life as a whole, for the church, society, and the world? As a laywoman I have been inspired by the prophetic lives of women religious. I have learned from your example, and I am privileged to stand with you and for you in your commitment to the life of the people of God. How are we to think about the prophetic voice? What are its potentials and pitfalls ? 62.3 2003 Dreyer * Prophetic Voice in Religious Life The Prophetic Vocation In an article on Hildegard of Bingen, Colman O'Dell describes the prophet's role as one of personal encounter.4 The prophet receives a special summons, an unforgettable experience that God has entrusted to her a message that she must reveal, either in words or by her very life. The prophet is one who yields herself to God as handmaid, witness, or sign. The summons can be to something dramatic and large scale or, for most of us, something ordinary and small scale, to be carried out over a long period of time. Thomas Merton describes the prophet as one who lives in direct submission to the Holy Spirit in order that, by her life, actions, and words, she may be a sign of God in the world. Jean Leclercq speaks of the prophet as a person of neither vague ideas nor ready-made solutions. Rather, prophets are the ones who by the vigor of their concepts and the intensity of their contemplation compel others to act, giving them worthy reason for doing so. Abraham Heschel describes the prophet as one who intensifies responsibility, who is impatient of excuse and contemptuous of pretense and self-pity, who is an exegete "of existence from a divine perspective." The prophet is one who is sensitive to evil and who feels fiercely,s In his classic 1978 work, The Prophetic Imagination, Walter Brueggemann sees prophecy as being concerned with change and how it comes about. The-prophetic task is to get people to have a perceptive consciousness that will stand against the dehumanizing and death-dealing aspects of our culture.6 Brueggemann describes the enemy of prophetic consciousness as Solomon's royal consciousness in which God's freedom is traded for God's accessibility, an economy of equality is traded for an economy of affluence, and a politics of justice is traded for a politics of oppression. The Solomonic regime silenced criticism through prohibition backed by heavy-handed sanction--or simply ignored it. In such a situation Revieva for Religious the gift of freedom is overtaken by a yearning for order and security.7 As Americans living in the aftermath of 9/11, we know well the seduction of royal consciousness. A prophet is one who understands language and its distinctive power to evoke newness--"fresh from the word.''8 Brueggemann speaks in terms of binary pairs of death and new life: numbness/criticism vs. energy/passion (compassion); death/cross vs. life/resurrection; grief/mourning vs. praise/joy. The prophet calls for an alternative consciousness and an alternative community. Forms of coercion and totalitarianism try to curtail fresh new possibilities and end up diminishing us as human beings. As a remedy, Brueggemann calls for a reappropriation of the biblical prophetic tradition to its full power and authenticity. The Hebrew prophets used poetry to present their vision and inspire listeners to respond. "It is the vocation of the prophet to keep alive the ministry of imagination, to keep on conjuring and proposing alternative futures to the single one the king wants to urge as the only thinkable one," Brueggemann says. He reminds us that worship and praise are ways to cut through ideology and recover compassion.9 Jo Ann McNamara concludes her massive treatment on the history of religious life with these words: "In the end, religious life is about worship and the positive benefits that worship brings to the world and its maker.''~° God is the creator of the world; we depend on God's loving compassion and power to make all things new. Praise of God is a wellspring of prophetic living. Discontinuity: Becoming Agents of Change In what follows I explore two particular elements of this prophetic way of living: discontinuity and contemplation. The prophetic voice interrupts "business as usual." It calls attention to, and says no to, the powers 62.3 2003 Dreyer ¯ Prophetic Voice in Religious Life The task of prophecy is to encourage people to be involved in the history of their time. of dehumanization wherever they may be. The prophet sees that the present arrangement need not always be so. This vision might apply to the way religious life is lived and structured, ways in which we think about and do ministry, ways that church structures and practice affect the people of God, ways we live as a society and as cifzens of the world. As I have said, the history of religious life reveals a steady stream of visionaries. One thinks of Jane Frances de Chantal, one of the first to question religious enclosure when it inhibited service in the world, and leaders of women's congregations in the mid 20th century who decided that education and worldly awareness would make sisters better teachers and better religious. Richarda Peters, Benedictine prioress in St. Joseph, Minnesota, from 1949 to 1961, encouraged her sisters to create study groups, earn academic degrees, update libraries, and subscribe to the New York Times. Her successor brought in television and encouraged the sisters to read Cardinal Suenens's The Nun in the World2~ The task of prgphecy is to encourage people to be involved in the history of their time. Brueggemann speaks about the visceral experience of waking up to the truth that things are not right. The light bulb goes on, and we wonder why we did not see that before. Pretending that things are fine is no longer an option. This awakening is often followed by feelings of disappointment, grief, and even betrayal. Bringing this hurt to public expression is an important step in dismantling the status quo and permitting a new reality, theological and social, to emerge.~2 Dorothee Soelle says that expressed complaint is the beginning of liberation.13 Review for Religious Prophetic agents of change live as if in a minefield. They may conjure up unwanted feelings of self-doubt: Who am I to demand and expect change? Most of us know that the risks are high. That prophets are not welcome in their own neighborhood is all too true. But, whether we ourselves are prophets or are attuned to those who are, the message can truly be "good news" to people. Even though the price is high, new vision energizes and creates new realities that can be trusted and relied upon. 14 Energy can even come from embracing the inscrutable darkness, trusting that something is on the move, even though I .may not see it.Is Waiting faithfully, with the anticipation of discovering a new way of being church, is prophetic activity. 16 We are also energized by the partisan nature of prophecy. Prophets do not function in the abstract, but always address persons in concrete historical situations. We become aware that God is free and acting for us in this moment, in this very community, in this geographic location. In the last thirty years, the extensive research on specific religious orders of women is gradually correcting past neglect, naming particular people and locations of prophetic activity in the history of religious life. 17 Looking at barriers to prophetic voice, Brueggemann examines the ways that satiation short-circuits passion. He reminds us that satiation--having too much and being full all the time--prevents our noticing that the king has no clothes. It dulls our capacity to be imaginative, caring, and passionate, to suffer, to live and die. We avoid facing up to failure; we shrink from the thought that there is an end to things as they have been. Consumerism tricks us into a false sense that "all is well." "The task of prophetic imagination," Brueggemann says, "is to cut through the numbness, to penetrate the self-deception, so that the God of endings is confessed as Lord." ~8 This is as true of the church as it is of society and the world. 62.3 2003 Dreyer ¯ Prophetic Voice in Religious Life The dehumanizing aspects of our consciousness and practice can be mitigated. They have no final claim on us. The despair created by the king leads to hopelessness, infecting those who are excluded and those who have everything. But prophets like Second Isaiah, attesting God's radical freedom, announce genuine novelty to exiled Israel: God could have a change of mind. Ironically, those who know this kind of prophetic dying most painfully are the very persons who can convey hope most vigorously. And, just as grief undoes numbness, amazement confounds despair. Amazement, says Brueggemann, is the ultimate energizer. With the prophet's help, Israel finds that singing is again possible. Song indicates new life. All of us can recall not being able to sing because of depression or anger, satiety or preoccupation--and then discovering that we could sing again. Thus hope is born, and whenever it happens we are amazed.19 Jesus, coming after John the Baptist, is also a prophet. He lives at the margins and interacts with other marginal people who respond with awe---~om the shepherds at the birth to the crowds pursuing him in Mark's Gospel. Jesus' compassion takes many forms: he is not afraid to criticize the old order, he is ready to heal and forgive, he invites people to freedom from their enslavements. Newness brea~ in because "Jesus had the capacity to give voice to the very hurt that had been muted." Suffering made audible and visible produces hope; articulated grief is the gate of newness. The history of Jesus is the history of entering into the pain and giving it voice.2° Standing at the decisive end of royal consciousness is the cross. The Way of Contemplation A second hallmark of prophetic voice is living a contemplative existence. Many theologians, including the well-known German Jesuit Karl Rahner, have made the Review for Religious plea that, if Christians are to survive into the future, they will have to become mystics in the world. I think our experience in the post-Vatican II church and in the postmodern world teaches us that mysticism and prophecy are not clashing symbols but interdependent requirements for gospel living. In antiquity, prophecy was considered a natural role for women, and in the early Corinthian community, for example, prophecy and prayer were closely linked.2~ Thus, we are not called to be mystics or activists but mystics and activists. Sandra Schneiders underlines this truth when she describes religious life as a prophetic life-form characterized by two linked realities--contemplative immediacy to God and social marginality. Indeed, she calls prophetic action the public face of mysticism.22 Genuine prophetic speech and action are grounded inholiness. Prophecy requires that one take time to attend to God's word. It demands singleness of purpose, what we used to call "purity of heart." It requires allowing oneself to be penetrated by the Spirit, thus gaining a certain freedom from external authorities. Authentic solitude and silent presence before God allow us to become "tuned in" to the ways of God and, out of this knowledge, to lament and speak a word of vision and hope to the church and to the poor. Genuine prayer helps us avoid making egregiously wrong projections in God's name, and this can be painful. To begin with, it is not easy to identify subde projections by which we make God into our own image, and when we do discover them it is difficult to let them go. Most of us are comfortable with the God we have experienced and imagined, but, unless we become freer to let God be God, we dare not venture into the world of prophetic utterance. God is the source and wellspring of prophetic life and mission, and only contemplation keeps us intimately attuned to God's voice.23 62.3 2003 Dreyer ¯ Prophetic Voice in Religious Life A hallmark of the mystical encounter is a sense of being at one with the world. This is an enjoyable experience and needs to be celebrated when it breaks into our consciousness. But often we do not allow this sense of cosmic unity to lead us to effective community living. How do epiphanies of connectedness lead us to prophetic voice on behalf of human community? The basic answer is that contemplative existence grounds prophetic activity. Generally, one doeg not speak a prophetic word out of the blue, even though prophetic speech has an element of spontaneity, like a "late-breaking news bulletin" from God. But, like a concert pianist's spontaneity and apparent effortlessness, prophecy depends on a life of paying attention to God in prayer. Genuine contemplation does not lead toward withdrawal or removal from the world, but just the opposite. The prophet is one who immerses herself in the joys and especially the sufferings of the world. Prophetic solidarity translates into acknowledging the truth of the present moment, however bleak it may seem. Prophets are "sent to participate humbly and fragilely in the darkness, to experience it as their own, but without losing heart." This faithful perseverance leads one to seek solutions and victory, but not to give up when failure is the outcome. Such a life requires both realism and deep spiritual reserves.24 The prophet identifies and gives voice to the sins of one's culture: consumerism, rampant individualism, fragmentation, and alienation. In her book Woman Strength: Modern Church, Modern Woman, Joan Chittister underlines the need for communal leadership against a rampantly individualistic culture. She calls for a spirituality of contemplative cocreation in which we look at the causes of social brokenness and begin to see the link between the personal and the political. "We need to intervene for one another," she says. "We need a new worldview that puts the old one 'in new light.'''25 Review for Religqous A simple way to enhance contemplation in the service of prophetic solidarity with the poor is to dwell within the words of the Hebrew prophets to see what they mean for us today. We begin by asking: Who were these people? What were the circumstances of their lives? What were their doubts and fears? How did they overcome them? How did they manage to love so much that they risked life and limb to speak the prophetic word? Abraham Heschel asks: "What gave them the strength to 'demythologize' precious certainties, to attack what was holy, to hurl blasphemies at priest and king, to stand up against all in the name of God?" He says they "must have been shattered by some cataclysmic experience in order to be able to shatter others." 26 In a 1997 article Brueggemann describes how the biblical text becomes newly available, how it can erupt into new usage and be seized upon to illuminate the present. This moment can be both personal and communal. He writes: "What has been tradition, hovering in dormancy, becomes available experience . In that utterance, the word does lead reality." In order for the prophetic word to remain ever new, someone has to have imagination and intuition and the courage to assert that texts from the past can and must be "concretely relocated in and specifically readdressed to contemporary contexts." Persons like this "permit the explosion of text whereby the world is transformed.''27 Meditating deeply on the following passages can lead us in such a direction. Listen, I groan under the burden of you, as a wagon creaks under a full load. (Am 2:13) You that turn justice upside down and bring righteousness to the ground, you that hate someone who brings the wrongdoer to court and loathe the one who speaks the whole truth: 62.3 2003 Dreyer ¯ Prophetic Voice in Reh~ious Life for all this, because you levy taxes on the poor. though you have built houses of hewn stone, you shall not live in them. (Am 5:7-11) Spare me the sound of your songs; I cannot endure the music of your lutes. Let justice roll like a river and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream." (Am 5:23-24) Come now, let us argue it out, says the Lord. Though your sins are scarlet, they may become white as snow; though they are dyed crimson, they may yet be like wool. (Is 1:18) The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light: Light has dawned upon them, dwellers in a land as dark as death. Thou hast increased their joy and given them great gladness; Hey rejoice in your presence as people rejoice at harvest. (Is 9:2-3) These and other prophets past and present inspire us to become more and more convinced that a "new word" and "new light" are possible in every age. We must be the ones to assume the responsibility to remind the church that no one has a corner on God's word and that we dare not put a period, where there should be a comma, when it comes to God's plan for creation. Prophetic voices are needed in a church that "disputes how women can image Christ; restricts rather than promotes women's preaching; rejects dialogue with feminist theology; refuses to discuss women's leadership roles in liturgical assemblies; takes Review for Religious punitive action against women's public speech on controversial issues; considers qualified women ineligible for administrative offices and prohibits gender-inclusive texts in its public prayer."~s The Madeleva Manifesto, issued in 2000 by a group of Catholic theologians, states: "To women in ministry and theological studies, we say: Reimagine what it means to be the whole body of Christ. The way things are now is not the design of God." Past and Future One aspect of celebrating and being grateful for the past involves cocking an eye toward the future. W'e ask how we can honor the memories, the dedication, the love and accomplishments of those who have gone before us. How do we extend their legacy into a new millennium? This is no easy task. The prophetic voice of women religious may be intended primarily for the church, but it extends to the wider faith and civic communities. There are many challenges in the American church, in religious life, and in our culture. But, amidst the plethora of problems, one thing remains clear: The prophet must be attuned to the cause of the poor and suffering and act on their behalf. This is the rock upon which we stand and which must weather the slings and arrows of both ecclesial and social existence. Words of support and challenge are in order. While all baptized Christians are called to find inspiration and truth in the message of the Bible, women religious are eminently equipped to do so. The Spirit must be allowed to empower and embolden you, to give you confidence to The prophet must be attuned to the cause of the poor and suffering and act on their behalf. 62.3 2003 Dreyer * Prophetic Voice in Religious Life interpret the signs of the times in light of the gospel and speak and act on this knowledge. Your lifestyle, your experience, your prayer, your dedication, your commitment to discernment, all this enables and propels you to live and speak and act in Christ's name. It benefits not only your communities, but also the church and the world. Your prophetic voices are needed. Confronting a sinful church begins in humility, in the awareness that the sin I protest resides firmly in the center of my own heart. The church has an ambiguous record on this front. She has always embraced the principle that reform must be a constant dynamic in the church, but has often shied away from embracing this truth in action. The renowned 20th-century theologian Paul Tillich noted that a major Protestant criticism of the Roman church is the "exclusion of the prophetic self-criticism" by an authoritarian system.29 Awareness of the beam in one's own eye prevents making condescending judgments about others. But we cannot stop there. We must love God and the world and the church enough to be willing to cry out against the arrogance, deceit, and secrecy that burden most heavily the poor, the oppressed, the person in the pew. The danger in a time such as ours is to get distracted and deflected from hearing the call to prophecy. It is appropriate to commission studies and to meet and talk about the alarming statistics on religious life--health, membership, age, finances. But these concerns cannot be allowed to turn you in on yourselves, instead of outward to the reform of the church and the alleviation of suffering in the world. And, while we may need time-outs to step back from the fray and regroup, we must not give in to the temptation to withdraw out of legitimate frustration and anger. We need to act as individuals and as a community, embracing the responsibility and the honor of being agents of new vision. We cannot leave it Review for Religious to clerical leaders or to those with stronger, louder, deeper voices. The church needs women religious to resist being co-opted by the clerical culture of power, privilege, and denial. We need you to protest tactics of intimidation and silencing. And we hope and pray that you will have the courage to withstand the suffering of not being welcome in your own country. The Spirit blows where it will (1 Co 12:8-11), and I find that it often blows in the lives of mature, dedicated women religious. We laypersons, who have so often been empowered by you, are called to join you in this much-needed prophetic ecclesial mission. The prophet speaks also to culture. As we move from despising and fleeing culture to a critical embrace of it, we cast a loving, compassionate, contemplative gaze on it and on all cultures. Because we stand within our culture, not outside it, we are both tainted by its sins and enriched by its creations and discoveries. In simplicity and courage we need to protest against arrogance, individualism, and consumer ways. By living and thinking on the margins, we must speak a word of love to the most desperate, despised, and forgotten among us. Since we cannot fight excessive individualism with more individualism, we are cailed to figure out how to act communally, to marshal our resources to witness to the Spirit's plan to make all things new. We are called to take a prophetic stance toward the rampant individualism of our culture by acknowledging our shared vulnerability, respecting and loving our differences and yet inviting others to dwell in community with us. Mary Grey pleads with us to "take the responsibility of becoming the kinds of communities which challenge society and live by a transforming ethic, communities which 'shine like stars' because they are offering the word of life." 30 She locates hope in the witness of the community as prophet. In the face of dwindling resources and aging, this kind of fidelity 62.3 2003 Dreyer ¯ Prophetic Voice in Religious Life to the mission, this showing up each and every day to do the Lord's work, is in itself a prophetic act of enormous value and goodness. The prophet is many things. To be open to and touched by this gift is to be honored with an invitation from God. It is also to be burdened with heavy responsibility, to be ripped open and rejected, scorned and ridiculed. For the point of the prophet's life is not primarily her own burdens, but those of a suffering world in desperate need of hope. The prophetic voice both disturbs and gives hope, and this requires keeping close touch with God's purifying presence, seeing oneself as lowly and humbly developing the skills of discernment and surrender. We are grateful for those who have gone before us, and we celebrate our membership in the communion of saints. We are linked by the desire arid the promise to be faithful to living a gospel life in each generation. The witness of our ancestors in the faith calls us to recommit ourselves to be Christians who dare to voice a prophetic word in our time, who dare to offer a word of hope from our experience that God is faithful, and who dare to hear and respond to the gospel invitation: "Come to me all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble of heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden light" (Mr 11:28-30). Notes ' See Sandra Schneiders [HM, Finding the Treasure: Locating Catholic Religious Life in a New Ecclesial and Cultural Context (New YorlotMahwah: Paulist Press, 2000) and Selling All: Commitment, Consecrated Celibacy, and Community in Catholic. Religious Life (New York/Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2001); Jo Ann Kay McNamara, Sisters in Arms: Catholic Nuns through Two Millennia (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1996); Nadine Foley, ed., ~ourney in Faith and Fidelity: Women Shaping Religious Life for a Renewed Church (New York: Continuum, 1999); Joan Chittister, The Fire in These Ashes: A Review for Religious Spirituality of Contemporary Religious Life (Kansas City: Sheed Ward, 1995) and Woman Strength: Modern Church, Modern Woman (London: Sheed and Ward, 1990); Barbara Fiand, Living the Vision: Religious Vows in an Age of Change (New York: Crossroad, 1990) and Wrestling with God: Religious Life in Search of Its Soul (New York: Crossroad, 1996). 2 Karen L. King, "Prophetic Power and Women's Authority: The Case of the Gospel of Mary [Magdalene]," in Women Preachers and Prophets through Two Millennia of Christianity (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998), pp. 21 and 35. 3 See Mary Catherine Hilkert OP, Speaking with Authority: Catherine of Siena and the Voices of Women Today (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000, p. 43. Colman O'Dell, "Elizabeth of Schonau and Hildegard of Bingen; Prophets of the Lord," in Peace Weavers, ed. J.A. Nichols and L.T. Shank (Kalamazoo: Cistercian Publications, 1987), pp. 85-102. ~ Cited in Abraham Heschel, The Prophets: An Introduction (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1962), pp. 12ft. 6 Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1976), p. 13. 7 Brueggemann, Prophetic Imagination, pp. 36-37. 8 Brueggemann, Prophetic Imagination, pp. 9-10. 9 Brueggemann, Prophetic Imagination, pp. 45 and 26-27. 10McNamara, Sisters in Arms, p. 637. ~ See With Hearts Expanded: Transformation in the Lives of Benedictine Women, St. Joseph, Minnesota, 1957-2000 by Evin Rademacher, Emmanuel Renner, Olivia Forster, and Carol Berg (St. Cloud: North Star Press, 2002), cited in History of Women Religious News and Notes 15, no. 1 (February 2002): 4. ,2 Brueggemann, Prophetic Imagination, pp. 20-21. ,3 Dorothee Soelle, Suffering, trans. Everett R. Kalin (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1975), pp. 70-76. ,4 Brueggemann, Prophetic Imagination, p. 23. ,s See Constance FitzGerald, "Impasse and the Dark Night," in Women's Spirituality: Resources for Christian Development (2nd ed.), ed. Joann Wolski Conn (New York/Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1996), pp. 410- 435. 16 Mary C. Grey, "Prophecy and Mysticism: The Heart of the Postmodern Church," Scot-fish Journal of Theology (1997): 53. 17 Recent examples include Dominicans at Home in a Young Nation: 1786-1865 (Chicago: Project OPUS); Women of the Vale: Perthville Josephites 1872-1972 by Marie Crowley (Melbourne: Spectrum Publications, 2000); Beyond the Adobe Wall: 1852-1894 by Patricia Jean 62.3 2003 Dreyer ¯ Prophetic Voice in Religious Life Manion SL (Independence, Missouri: Two Trails Press, 2002); Barbara Misner, The Living Love of Christ among Us: The History of the Sisters of Mercy of the Holy Cross, 3 vols. (privately printed by the Sisters of Mercy of the Holy Cross, 1999). An excellent listing of new books on religious life can be found in History of Women Religious: News and Notes, ed. Karen M. Kennelly (2311 South Lindbergh Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63131). ,8 Brueggeman, Prophetic Imagination, pp. 47 and 49. ,9 Brueggeman, Prophetic Imagination, pp. 69, 70, and 79 20 Brueggeman, Prophetic Imagination, p. 88. 21 See Antoinette Wire, The Corinthian Women Prophets (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993). 22 Schneiders, Finding the Treasure, pp. 137 and 150. 23 Schneiders, Finding the Treasure, p. 317. 24 Schneiders, Finding the Treasure, pp. 327 and 334-335. 2s Chittister, Woman Strength, pp. 69-70. z6 Heschel, Prophets, p. 12. 27 Walter Brueggemann, "Texts That Linger, Words That Explode," Theology Today 54, no. 2 (July 1997): 181 and 198. 2~ Hilkert, Speaking with Authority, pp. 2-3. 29 Paul Tillich, The Dynamics of Faith (New York: Harper,1957), p. 72. 30 Grey, "Prophecy and Mysticism," pp. 23 and 62. Sadness Today I embrace the air. The embodiment of heart and mind, .flesh and bone are gone. Too soon a (oraithlikefigure replaced reality l~aving only memories. Marcella LaKoske OP Review for Religious NIHAL ABEYASINGHA Charism: Is Marketing Needed? Ubnuti luenvdeer rs eslelsv eitns dfaibffreicr esnotf tneanmer etsh,r oouftgehno uwt iEthu rdoipf-e ferent bottles and different marketing strategies and sometimes even different formulas. Candy maker Mars no longer sells "Mars" bars in the United States; the same product is now called "Snickers Almond," and American "Milky Way" bars (same as ever) are sold in Europe as "Mars" bars. Such is the adaptability of mod-ern marketing. How, then, might one go about market-ing the productmor telling the story--of a religious institute's charismatic accomplishments and endeavors? This article argues that one needs to identify the project the founder launched (pastoral care) by identifying where his heart was (pastoral sensitivity). In particular, it deals with the Redemptorists, a congregation founded in 1732 and approved by the pope in 1749. Today's efforts to rediscover the charism of religious congregations often turn into an intellectual exercise-- doing meticulous historical research and then making the findings available to members through seminars, vis-its to places associated with the founder, and so forth. Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR writes again from the University of Kelaniya; 454/9 Piachaud Gardens; Kandy 20000; Sri Lanka. 1_9.KO~ 62.3 2003 But maybe a question asked by St. Bernard needs to be asked again: "What kind of concept could human beings have of God [in their mind] unless they first had an image of God in their heart?" This implies that people can have almost no idea of God in their mind until they first choose to love God through the image of him they find in their heart. Similarly, today's "bearers of the charism" need to examine whether their hearts are where their founder's heart was. I suggest that this would call for a refinement in the religious congregation's method of research into its charism. A Note on Method The historical method seeks to learn what the founders were thinking when they established their reli-gious institute. One arrives at the origins of that thought and traces its progress and completion. Whatever con-clusions are drawn are shown to have existed in some way in the founder's consciousness. That is a legitimate method of historical research. But, regarding a charism, I suggest that one is deal-ing with where the founder's heart was. The founder first has a commitment in his heart. It is only later that he emphasizes from the Christian memory and tradition what fits in with that commitment. The elements he highlights and puts together are never the total Christian vision. The founder in his insight is an artist, and a cri-terion of good artists is that they highlight some partic-ular thing in such a way that the "universal" shines forth more brightly. The founder did not first create a system of thought (a theory) and then fit his project into it. Rather, he first "fell in love" with the "project" in front of him. How? Why? Because he saw and experienced certain events in the world and their impact on his life as a Christian. He responded and witnessed to them. He invited others to join his project so that the witness could Review for Religious continue. I argue that the priority is the heart. The head follows, making sure that the heart ("Love is blind!") is not chasing after vanity. Rediscovering an historical fact or some perspective of a former era is a valid study in itself and a contribu-tion to knowledge, but, in matters of love and a tradition of love, the issues are different. One needs to keep alive today (in a world that has obviously changed) the story of a particular heartfelt response to events of a former era. Witnessing anew with-out changing the story is what is called for. The successive bearers of the charism do not have a different insight from the founder's. The present bearers of the charism have to love with the same insight. This is not primarily propositional truth or even a crys-tal- clear concept. This love produces a kind of feeling (or instinct or sixth sense) for the insight of the founder. It brings about a virtuous disposition such as "justness" (not justice) and "chasteness" (not chastity) bring to what is just and chaste. Ask any Redemptorist and he will tell you that the aim of the congregation is to preach the gospel to those who are pastorally "most abandoned" or most in need. That is propositional truth. After one or several of such groups are identified, ministry to them is made a prior-ity in each unit of the institute. But the crux of the mat-ter is what "insight" or "virtuous disposition" operates in regard to this target group. Is the agenda for action set by the target group where they actually are, in their iden-tity and reality as Christians, or from the textbooks of theology? In my opinion and that of several close asso- One needs to keep alive today the story of a particular heartfelt response to events of a former era. 62.3 2003 Abeyasingha * Charism ciates, there is something wanting in the textbook approach. It does not seem to have captured the imagi-nation either of the majority in the institute or of the people to whom its ministry is offered. So the question is: How does one identify the original insight, foster a love and feeling for that insight, and then put the "story" into practice in our own day? Alphonsus ahead of and behind His Time Alphonsus in some ways was ahead of his time. He anticipated, for example, the development of doctrine in the church and required the members of the institute to take a vow to defend the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin, before it was defined in 1854. But in some ways he was also falling behind, defending positions that do not have theological defend-ers today. Looking at matters in which Alphonsus fell behind may illustrate his "marketing" strategy. It came to me as something of a shock to read his refutation of a work of Dom Leoluca Rolli, a priest of Calabria, titled II Novello Progetto, o sia Dissertazione del buon uso delle Litanie, ed altre preghiere (The New Project, or Dissertation on the Good Use of the Litanies and Other Prayers).~ This was in 1775, and the Redemptorist congregation had been started in 1732. Mphonsus takes up basically three issues against Rolli: (1) the popular belief that house of the Mary was brought by angels to Loretto, (2) some titles used in regard to Mary in the Litany of Loretto, and (3) the singing or recitation of that litany before the Blessed Sacrament exposed. As regards the popular belief about the house of Loretto, Rolli considered it an account that runs like a fable. In his refutation Alphonsus refers to popes who said that the house was taken by the ministry of angels to Loretto. He goes on to say that the denial of this belief Review for Religious is common among Protestant authors, in contrast to Catholic authors. Obviously, in the view of the rational-ists of the time, the argument was weak. Today's theolo-gians would not set much store on Alphonsus's reasoning. Rolli thought the titles Tower of David, Tower of Ivory, and House of Gold used in the Litany of the Blessed Virgin were affectations, using words without adequate meaning. He thought that Mirror of .Justice, Refuge of Sinners, Morning Star, and Gate of Heaven were titles that should refer only to .Jesus. Alphonsus's refutation was simply that people in the church, including priests and religious, saw no problem with using this litany and that popes had approved it. He adds, "They are all [expres-sions] of piety and tenderness towards our holy queen, that we may trust the more in her protection." Rolli considered it an abuse to chant the Litany of the Blessed Virgin before the Blessed Sacrament exposed. Alphonsus admits that prayers should be directed to.Jesus our Savior, for he alone is absolutely necessary as a ~neans of salvation. But he goes on to say that others are nec-essary, not by a necessity of means, but by moral neces-sity, to help our confidence the more. "In this light, when we chant the Litany of the Blessed Virgin before the Blessed Sacrament exposed, Mary is asked to present our prayers to Jesus Christ.''2 The Sense of Alphonsus's Arguments Today the views of Rolli are commonly accepted. Should Alphonsus even at that time have seen some value in Rolli's opinions and conceded some probability to them? Why did he reject them without qualification? My short answer is that Alphonsus realized how impor-tant the Catholic sense of identity was at the time. He knew the importance of consciously "being different." His "pastoral care" was rooted in "pastoral sensitivity" for that sense of identity. 62.3 2003 Abeyasingba ~° Charism Priests, after spending years studying th6ology, tend to apply theological categories to pastoral situations with little sensitivity for the people's felt needs. Pastoral care involves sensitivity to the human situation, the sensitiv-ity of a shepherd leading his flock to pasture. That sen-sitivity raises questions. What instincts and heartfelt feelings of the people should he be careful not to offend, and why? What needs changing, and why? These are delicate questions. In the 18th century, the very things Rolli criticized were popularly held. Even the popes had reflected them in their writings. Rolli wanted to set those beliefs aside in the name of rationality. Alphonsus had a different con-cern. His stand was with the people, the majority. From that standpoint he would consider whether the "logic of reason" was a pastoral basis to eliminate those devotional titles and whether dropping them might leave a gap in the "logic of life." What would take their place? Would people feel at home in their faith without holding on to such devotional patterns? He concluded that eliminat-ing such popular piety would be pastorally harmful. I suggest that questions like these would have arisen as part of the "pastoral sensitivity" of Alphonsus. Such ques-tions are important today as well. In other words, peo-ple, their own perceived identity, and their felt needs--rather than the latest theological opinions-- should influence ministry agendas, especially the min-istries' points of insertion. In Alphonsus's day many people who were devoted to the traditional Litany of Loretto would have been unable to understand the principles of rationalism. Alphonsus probably understood them, or at least had the gifts of mind to understand them. The only ones at that time who rejected the traditional litany and even ridiculed it were Protestants. Alphonsus would have known that for him to reject such devotional formulations would be Review for Religious understood by many as encouraging, at least implicitly, some close rapport with Protestants. Alphonsus's view was that the people (including himself, a highly emo-tional Neapolitan) would not feel at home without the support (emotional and otherwise) of such devotions and prayers. That would confuse ordinary people. He had no adequate substitute to offer. It would have been like advocating email in Asia in the 1980s. Few Asians even knew of email's existence, and the infrastructure for it was not in place. In the 2000s the situation in Asia is dif-ferent. What Alphonsus hoped to achieve by his unquali-fied rejection of Rolli's ideas was a communication of truth (pastoral care) that would be attractive (pastoral sensitivity) to their sense of identity as individual believ-ers and as a community. He wanted to communicate, not pure speculative truth, but existential truth related to them as persons. Alphonsus wanted to touch ordinary people where they happened to be. To be touched in this way could turn out to be a moment of truth for peo-ple. Pastoral sensitivity finds a way to lead people to an encounter with truth. Truth has its way of cutting across the "lie" by which people sometimes try to live. The fol-lowing passage from a novel by Andrew Greeley explains what I mean. "Ellen's worst sin was against Ellen." Ellen is on her knees confessing to a priest named Kevin. Both of them have known each other for many years, and Kevin's family has assisted Ellen financially during a period of need. She says she has been away from the sacraments for ten years, and she lists her many sins. After she finishes, Kevin (who is the novel's narrator) speaks. "I'm still waiting for the real sin, the only sin," I said. 62.3 2003 Abeyasingba ¯ Charism She [Ellen] tilted her head. "I've told every-thing." "You haven't told the one important thing. You were mad at God and mad at the church and pretended for a long time you could get away from both." "I don't want to talk about it," she said. "Then no absolution," I said firmly. She tugged her hand to free it. I wasn't ¯ going to let it go. "Don't you have an ounce of compassion in that ice-cold soul of yours?" "If you want compassion, Ellen, go to your husband or have him recommend a psychia-trist who will listen sympathetically. If you want absolution, don't play games." She stopped tugging. We were quiet for a long time. "That's the only one that does matter, isn't it?" she said. "All right, Kevin, I'll say it, and you'll have to mop up the tears on this hard floor of yours. I blamed the church and God for things that were inside me and my family. I focused on all the ugly things and forgot about Father Conroy and Sister Caroline and first Communion and May crownings and High Club dances and midnight Mass and all those wonderful things that I love so much. I gave them all up because I was angry. I blamed the church for Tim's death. I loved him so much. I couldn't save him, and I thought the church should have saved him. Even when doing it, I knew I was wrong and that someday I'd be kneeling on the floor before you and pleading to be let back in." "And now you have done it," I said . She put her head against my knee and wept. Review for Religious Then she gathered herself together and said, "So Ellen's worst sin was against Ellen.-3 "Ellen's worst sin was against Ellen" is not humanism. A foundational element of Pope John Paul's teaching is that "man is the way of the church." But "man" must be understood in terms of the man, Jesus Christ. Salvation is when the individual lets Jesus Christ judge his life and values ("wanting absolu-tion"). Humanism is when people reformulate Jesus in their own image and like-ness ("playing games"). The former course is an expansion, an openness to the Infinite; the latter is a reduction of Jesus to the measure of one's own finiteness. The former is redemptive; the latter is ratio-nalization and self-justification: narcissism. I suggest that the former is where the charism of a religious institute is centered; the latter is what may be called "pastoral opportunism." Pastoral sensitivity varies according to differences in the charisms of various institutes. ¯ Playing Games or Wanting Absolution? "If you want compassion, go to your husband .I.f. you want absolution, don't play games." How true! How easily the two are confused! "Ellen's worst sin was against Ellen"--that is different. The enumeration of one's sins is an objective matter, but the moment of conversion is existential, the realization that "I have sinned. I will go back to my Father. That is¯ where I am at home; in fact, I have nowhere else to go" (see Lk 15:11-31). Human beings need saving. All creation shares in the salvation of the human. "Creation was made subject to futility, not of its own accord, but because of the one who subjected it in hope that creation itself would be set free from slav- 62.3 2003 Abeyasingba ¯ Charism ery to corruption and share in the glorious freedom of the children of God" (Rm 8:19-20). There is nothing wrong with compassion, but, in the perspective of absolution (existential salvation, redemp-tion today), there has to be more than compassion on the part of the pastor. The link between compassion and salvation is naming the game and discovering one's iden-tity in commitment and relationship to oneself, one's fellow human beings, and God. In the scene quoted above, Ellen has known Kevin for years and has experienced the generosity of his fam-ily. But as pastor he brings her to realize the injustice she is doing to herself. In that discovery and realization, she discovers the church community she has abandoned and God, who is present in that community. She sees that she is always welcome to the church and to the peo-ple and things she admits she loves: Father Conroy, Sister Caroline, May crownings, dances, and so forth. It is the entire mixture of ritual, imagery, and flesh-and-blood community that makes her feel at home. And yet we know that none of these are a hundred percent per-fect. Such is the church. What needs to be preserved for the individual in the church and for the church as a community is this feeling of being at home. In that setting people realize their true human and Christian identity. They do not blame the church and God "for things that were inside me and my family." Feeling at home does not mean complacency. To all--believers and unbelievers--the church must preach faith and conversion (see Sacrosanctum concilium, §9). Permitting people to "play games" and evade their call to conversion is not part of its mission. The Clarification of Pastoral Sensitivity Pastoral sensitivity varies according to differences in the charisms of various institutes. Is a given charism Review for Religious meant to function from the top down or from the bot-tom up? The top-down function is a way of exhibiting some transcendental value. Thus does a contemplative order bear witness to God's transcendence in any envi-ronment. In contrast, a charism that functions from the bottom up takes people where they are and leads them higher. Alphonsus's charism is certainly bottom-up. Redemptorist pastoral sensitivity, therefore, must be alert to where people actually are and concerned with them in their situation. The concrete situation determines the charism's "point of insertion" and the subsequent agenda. Does theology have a role in this agenda, and, if so, what is that role? First, it needs to be said that what unites the Christian community is faith, not theology. Pastoral care, first and foremost, contributes to growth in faith. Pastoral care is an art, discerning how faith func-tions in this person and this situation and then doing with skill whatever contributes to the growth of that faith. Theology, of course, does have a role in pastoral care. Years of formation in the science of theology provide principles for the art of pastoral care. Theology states and clarifies the goal of the Christian journey. Newman says: "Theology begins, as its name denotes, not with any sensible facts, phenomena, or results, not with nature at all, but with the Author of nature--with the one invis-ible, unapproachable Cause and Source of all things. It begins at the other end of knowledge, and is occupied, not with the finite, but the Infinite. It unfolds and sys-tematizes what he himself has told us of himself; of his nature, his attributes, his will, and his acts.''4 In this pro-cess of theology, logic is important, but, as Newman says, "logic does not really prove; it enables us to join issue with others; it suggests ideas; it opens views; it maps out for us the lines of thought; it verifies nega-tively; it determines when differences of opinions are 62.3 2003 Abeyasingha ¯ Charism Pastoral care is not a matter of saying and doing what pleases the majority. hopeless; and when and how far conclusions are proba-ble; but for genuine proof in concrete matter we require an organon more delicate, versatile, and elastic than ver-bal argumentation.''s Theology and pastoral care can enrich each other, but how does that work? In pastoral care the starting point is the finite: this individual, this situation. More than strict logic, there needs to be a "clinical sense." What "symptoms" does one perceive? Are there inter-connections? What is the diagnosis, and what treatments are possible? What treatment seems best? How is faith func-tioning here? What prin-ciples operate, however obscured they may be by seeming illogicality? Pas-toral care, in this perspective, is art and poetry. Artists have "insights" and then present them, using the best subject matter and materials and techniques known to them. In their presentations the artists and their glimpses and visions (all finite) that were the starting point rec-ognize themselves as called to grow towards the Infinite. What Rolli glimpsed in the Litany of Loretto were defects--they were indeed defects in the light of a the-ology influenced by rationalism. His solution was to eliminate them. The consequences of doing so were not his concern. I would suggest that Alphonsus's pastoral insight was that he saw how God operated and how pop-ular piety, defective though it was, was indeed express-ing faith in God. His pastoral sensitivity saw the danger of eliminating without substituting. He saw the possi-bility of initiating growth from "within." Pastoral care is not a matter of saying and doing what pleases the majority. That would be pastoral oppor- Review for Religious tunism. Pastoral care leads to an encounter with truth. Hence it is the pastor's function to uncover the truth that exists in what people do and then lead them beyond it. There is truth even in the fables, myths, and legends of popular piety. As Newman says, "fables are economies or accommodations, being truths and principles cast into that form in which they will be most vividly recognized; ¯. Again, mythical representations, at least in their bet-ter form, may be considered facts or narratives, untrue, but like the truth, intended to bring out the action of some principle, point of character, and the like. For instance, the tradition that St. Ignatius [of Antioch] was the child whom our Lord took in his arms, may be unfounded; but it realizes to us his special relation to Christ and his apostles, with a keenness peculiar to itself. The same remark may be made upon certain narratives of martyrdoms, or of the details of such narratives, or of certain alleged miracles, or heroic acts, or speeches, all of which are the spontaneous produce of religious feel-ing under imperfect knowledge. If the alleged facts did not occur, they ought to have occurred (if I may so speak); they are such as might have occurred, and would have occurred, under circumstances . Many a theory or view of things, on which an institution is founded, or a party held together, is of the same kind.''6 Acknowledging Identity in Affirmation of Difference At no point does Alphonsus say that the truth of the fables of popular piety are truths of faith or that they are the core of Christian faith. Alphonsus was clear in his own theological principles. He asserted that Jesus is the only mediator necessary by necessity of means¯ But he also knew that, in actual day-to-day living, people accepted other mediators as well, and so he speaks of them as a moral necessity. In the sphere of religion, Maryi_9.tLl__ 62.3 2003 Abeyasingba ¯ Charism is a secondary mediator. That was the situation--as it stood with its imperfect and accommodated knowledge. As pastor he would present a picture of Mary and the saints as mediators on a different level from Jesus. He would insist that her primary function is to lead us to Jesus. On a secondary level she helps us in our imperfect situation by presenting our prayers to Jesus, increasing our confidence, and so forth. Alphonsus recognized that Catholic identity at that time included being different from Protestants and ratio-nalists. At that time Catholics honored Mary in ways that could be assessed rationally as exaggerated and imperfect--and which brought on ridicule from Protestants and rationalists. To seem to condone their ridicule would lessen their identity (their "being differ-ent") and tantamount to joining them. It was part of Catholic identity, of feeling at home, to retain the devo-tion as it was traditionally practiced. Alphonsus therefore rejects the rational and theologically assimilable posi-tions of Rolli. (Today Rolli's views are part of the Catholic tradition and Catholic identity. It was not so in the 18th century, and could not have been.) Alphonsus had to deal with the theological doctrine that acts of devotion performed by one who was not in the state of grace did not avail for salvation. He could not deny this; it was the common doctrine. So he searched at the human level for the benefits of such devotion. He says (with Thomas Aquinas and Robert Bellarmine) that, although such acts of devotion do not in themselves jus-tify, they at least dispose sinners to obtain justification through the merits of Mary and the saints. He points out at least three possible benefits that could accrue to sinners from such devotion: making them accustomed to good works, obtaining for them temporal favors, and disposing them to receive grace. In other words, sinners who practice devotion to Mary have a better chance of Review for Religious cooperating with grace and being justified than sinners who do not have such devotion. Acknowledging Identity and Moving Forward For Alphonsus, acknowledging identity through dif-ference was the beginning, not the end, of pastoral care. He wished to lead people to deeper understanding of their faith, but always worked first on their hearts, their emotions. His Glories of Mary is a com-mentary on the "Hail Holy Queen," a prayer that ratio-nalists ridiculed. That prayer gave him a framework for his pastoral strategy. He was not merely justifying popular devotion to Mary, but also inserting elements that would help the pray-er grow in faith. As Alphonsus saw it, the prayer combined contrasts (queen/mother; life/banished children). It abounded with words that evoke intense emotion. The climax of the prayer is an accurate theological description of what Christian life is: "After this our exile, show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus." He makes Jesus the final goal of conversion. Until that goal is reached, even the slightest devotion to Mary, if carried through with perse-verance, gives the sinner hope. She becomes his patron, and exalted patronage was a well-known practice. In The Glories of Mary, Alphonsus takes the "Hail, Holy Queen" as it is and plays on the contrasts that are brought together in addressing Mary. "Queen" evokes power, while "mother" evokes love. Mary nurtures "life," even though our lives are precarious because of the ban-ishment caused by sin. These contrasts do not hold For Alphonsus, acknowledging identity through difference was the beginning, not the end, of pastoral care. 62.3 2003 Abeyasingba * Charism together in ordinary life. As sinners look to Mary as mother, affections of love, tenderness, and confidence are bound to override those of fear, dread, and punishment associated with "queen." Gradually people, especially the sinful and the desperate, would feel themselves more com-fortable and at home with the softer images (mother, life) rather than the harsher ones (power, banishment). His writing style is not pedantic; it is popular. He persuades, he encourages, he appeals. He repeats and exaggerates. He points out the benefits of simple acts (such as reciting a "Hail, Mary" every day) even for peo-ple who have not broken with their life of sin. He knows that the people he is writing for are an emotional peo-ple. He tries to bring reason to bear on their emotions. He does this by channeling their emotions towards two goals, sorrow and love. After reminding readers that God has done much by giving them Mary to be their mother, he asks what they have done. In various ways they have rejected her, and so they are called to sorrow and repen-tance and to expressing grateful love to God and to his mother, God's gift to them. The argument is not spec-ulative. It is an effort to have right reason (in the form of practical repentance and love) control any exagger-ated emotion in Marian devotion. Alphonsus provides a range of imagery drawn from people's ordinary life: Mary as midwife, shepherdess, and advocate. Such imagery is found even more in his poems, songs, and paintings. People could choose whatever image suited them, but, no matter what they chose, each image was mediatory, with Mary between the people and Jesus. Mary was the bridge. The Vatican's "Directory on Popular Piety and the Liturgy" (2002) treats devotion to Mary much as Alphonsus did.7 Alphonsus's expression is more laden with emotion. He wanted to lead people on a journey on which they would become attached to Christ in love. In "mar- Review for Religious keting" Alphonsus's insight, in bringing his Catholic charism to people of today, pastoral sensitivity needs to start where they are--start with what they consider their identity--and then, in the exercise of pastoral care, move them beyond it. This would be marketing, under a new and different label and brand name, the same product as Alphonsus "marketed" in his day. Is this "marketing" idea likely to convince the bearers of the Alphonsian charism today and to "work" for the people to whom their min-istry extends? A trial run may be worthwhile. I suggest that this approach is not altogether a "dream." A recent biography of Andrei Sakharov shows his journey from being a scientist who supported the Soviet system to being a spokesman for human rights.8 As a scientist he asked questions about physical nature and tested hypotheses, looking for reliable evidence. As a Russian he "believed that the Soviet state represented a breakthrough into the future." When he saw the deaths caused by the radioactive fallout from the tests he directed in 1955, he began to ask questions about politics the same way he had always asked questions about physical nature. This approach quickly made him a dissident. The rest of his life is too well known for repetition here. It was not a head-on attack on his ideology that changed him. The point of change was his own training, in which he was at home. At that point something new inserted itself: the deaths caused by his own experiments. This is a moral parable of change from within, somebne moving from the laboratory into action in the public arena, experiencing a martyrdom (witnessing and suffering), and "rising again." Can the charism of a religious institute function to effect change from within, meeting people where they are and progressing from there? Perhaps it can. That is the hope implied in being pastorally sensitive (to where people's hearts are) before striving to inculcate deeper and truer propositional knowledge. 62.3 2003 Abeyasingba ¯ Charism Notes ' Alphonsus Maria de Liguori, Breve rispbsta alla stravagante riforma intentata dall'abbate Rolli contraria alia piet~ dovuta verso la divina Madre (written in 1775). http:// 2 It is interesting that the Congregations for Divine Worship and the Sacraments, "Directory on Popular Piety and the Liturgy: Principles and Guidelines" (9 April 2002), §165, states that, in the adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, the faithful ought to be "encour-aged to use the Scriptures" and "suitable hymns and prayers" and spend some time in "silent prayer and reflection. Thus they will grad-ually get the idea that they ought not use devotional practices in honor of the Virgin Mary and the saints during exposition of the Blessed Sacrament. Given Mary's close relationship with Christ, however, the rosary, with its meditation on the mysteries of the incarnation and redemption, could help give the prayer a Christological orientation." Here I seem to detect that, although praying the rosary during ado-ration of the Blessed Sacrament is not rejected, neither is it considered the ideal. It seems to be considered an accommodation ("pastoral sen-sitivity") to where people are, with a view to leading them beyond it (with "pastoral care"). The burden of this article is to set the charism of an apostolically oriented religious institute in this perspective. 3 Andrew M. Greeley, The Cardinal Sins (New York: Warner Books, 1981), pp. 208-210. 4John Henry Newman, "Christianity and Physical Science," in The ldea of a University (Garden City: Doubleday Image, 1959), p. 395. s John Henry Newman, A Grammar of Assent (Garden City: Doubleday Image, 1955), chap. 8, p. 217. 6 John Henry Newman, "The Theory of Developments in Religious Doctrine" (Sermon XV, Preached on the Purification, 1843), in Newman's University Sermons: FiJ%en Sermons Preached before the University of Oxford, 1826-43 (London: SPCK, 1970), §35. 7 "Popular devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary is an important and universal ecclesial phenomenon. Its expressions are multifarious and its motivation is very profound, deriving as it does from the People of God's faith in, and love for, Christ the Redeemer of the human race and from an awareness of the salvific mission that God entrusted to Mary of Nazareth, because of which she is mother not only of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, but also of all people in the order of grace" (§183). 8 Richard Lourie, Sakbarov: A Biography (Hanover, New Hampshire: Brandeis University Press, 2002). Review for Religious ERNEST E. LARKIN John of the Cross's Message for Today The focus of St. John of the Cross is the call to contemplation. Vatican Council ~I left no doubt about the universal call to holiness; the clergy, the laity, and religious are all called to the same high degree of union with God. John of the Cross locates that perfection in contemplation. Vatican II emphasized life in this world. It called Christians out of the ghetto and into the mainstream of worldly existence. Lay people particularly were to work for the betterment of humanity through science, politics, education, economics, and the professions. Such work is part of the Christian vocation; moreover, for Christians the motivation and animation for doing the work is the same in the marketplace and the family as it is in the cloister. The source is a loving relationship with the Trinity. This is the holiness at the heart of every vocation. Call it love, call it contemplation--it is the same Ernest E. Larkin OCarm wrote "Desert Spirituality" for our JuDy-August 2002 issue. His address remains Kino Institute; 1224 East Northern; Phoenix, Arizona 85020. 62.3 2003 biblical reality of "knowing .you, the only true God, and him whom you have sent, Jesus Christ" (Jn 17:3) or, in another formulation, "knowing Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship in his sufferings" (Ph 3:10). It is loving knowledge, for contemplation is knowledge by way of love. It is what St. Th~r~se called her vocation, to be "love at the heart of the church." In the lapidary formula of St. Paul, contemplation is the excellence of "faith expressing itself through love" (Ga 5:6). Contemplative prayer and contemplation are no longer to be seen as the domain of an elitist group. People in all sectors of church life and lay life are claiming their birthright and practicing contemplative prayer every day. John of the Cross can be their guide. In this paper I want to indicate how contemporary forms of contemplative prayer, specifically centering prayer and Christian Meditation, and the Jesus Prayer, fit into John's synthesis. I will first present a sketch of his teaching on the beginnings of contemplation and then relate this doctrine to the contemporary movements. Contemplation, according to John of the Cross Faith as "the only proximate and proportionate means to union with God" runs like a mantra through the works of John of the Cross. Loving faith, shown in word and deed, is the only road to God. Every act of faith, however small, is a ray of light piercing the darkness in one's consciousness. It is the light of Christ shining through. By acts of faith we let Christ in, we allow the Spirit to form Christ in our very being. Of course, he is always there in the depths of our spirit, in "the innermost chamber of our inner castle, the unscathed center of our being, where only the true God dwells.''~ But he is dormant there until we awaken him through activated faith. Our individual, discrete acts of faith are like the dots of light on a television screen. Multiply them, and the Review for Religious screen is fully illuminated. The soul is like the television screen: on it the dots of faith coalesce to form the image of Christ, fulfilling the words of St. Paul: "I live now, no longer I, Christ lives in me." Thus are we configured to Christ. The rest of the quotation is equally important: "I still have my human life, but it is a life of faith in the Son of God" (Ga 2:20). Our faith life brings purity of heart, the condition for this configuration. We are pure of heart to the extent that we live by faith. Purity of heart is not just chastity; it is all the virtues ordered and integrated in our being, giving us an openness to the indwelling God. In early stages God meets us in our rational minds, in our disparate thoughts and image~ and will acts. These are so many actual graces. When purity of heart is more perfect, we enter more deeply into ourselves at the spirit level where God reveals himself in a certain wholeness--in contemplation. "Blessed are the pure of heart, they shall see God." "Seeing God" occurs in holy thoughts and desires and more fully in contemplation. The metaphor in John of the Cross that corresponds to the television screen is the window pane that lets in the sun. When the window is clean, the sun comes through without any obstruction: the sun and the glass are like one same thing (Ascent 2.5.6). This is a beautiful image of purity of heart, of the entry of God. When all our desires are ordered by faith, we are transparent to God's indwelling. At first God comes to us in images and concepts, facsimiles and metaphors. When the soul is truly pure, that is to say, when it is free and detached and faith-filled, God comes in contemplation as Gracious Mystery, in his inscrutable reality. Our response then is We are pure of heart to the extent that we live by faith. 62.3 2003 Larkin ¯ John of the Cross's Message for Today simply a yes to this gift, resting in the presence, experiencing communion. Communion (koinonia, communio) is being one with God by participation in a unitive, nondualistic experience. Contemplation is the experience of communion. The experience of contemplation is ineffable: it cannot be put into words. We can have feelings about God, and they are sensible consolations or spiritual affections. Feelings are resonances of the experience of God. They are moments of enthusiasm or dis-couragement, joy or sorrow. They are secondary and accidental to the basic contemplative experience of presence and communion, which is incommunicable. The contact with God is the original experience of the theological virtues, whereas the emotional or spiritual resonances are the overflow. Often we have no assurance that we are experiencing the presence of God in contemplation other than blind faith. Feelings are ambiguous and need to be discerned. The act of contemplation is a return to the subject, a turning back on one's self in faith and love. It is moving from the Christ for us, who is objective and out in front of us, so to speak, to the Christ within us, who has become one with us. Thus contemplation is resting in the fruit of one's labor and search; it is the fruition of one's new, transformed self. The whole process is "putting on the Lord Jesus Christ," which begins with one's desires, purifying old ones and developing new ones one by one, and ends in the contemplative act of communion, when two things become one in participatory knowledge and love. This is nondualistic thinking, like the advaita of Eastern religions. God and the soul are united in a oneness that is not pantheistic, but pan-en-theistic. Communion is the common denominator of all the modes of contemplation, whether ordinary or extraordinary, active or passive, acquired or infused. Review for Religious Communion grows gradually as we are transformed in God. The one obstacle to our experiencing our .oneness with God is our unredeemed self, which is our false self or egoic self. Specifically, this bad self is our disordered desires. They are our attachments, an innocuous word better translated in our idiom as addictions and illusions. These are the persons and things and mindsets that control us, distort our thinking, and move us in the wrong direction. We deal with them by the two-pronged attack of getting to know Jesus better (so as to perceive his attractiveness) and letting go of competitive desires. There are two principles here, knowing Jesus and letting go. They are the two directives set down in the strongest language by John of the Cross as the necessary and sufficient program for holiness (Ascent 1.13.3-4). The strategy is to work on habitual, deliberate failings one by one until God negates them all in one sweep by leading a person into the "dark night." At that time one loses the attraction and pleasure in anything other than God. In John of the Cross, the gift of initial infused contemplation is the cause of this state. The budding contemplative is counseled to stop discursive activity, embrace the emptiness, and be present in loving attention to God, who is "infusing" light and love. At first the experience is distressful, because one fears she has lost God and everything else. The infused light and love are too subtle to be recognized. The landmarks of the old spiritual journey are gone: God is no longer available, 6ne cannot pray in the old ways, the excitement of ministry goes dead, and there is a malaise about everything. The only positive quality is an ache for God, which is aggravated by the fear of having lost the Beloved. Eventually one becomes comfortable with this new way of relating to God, and peace and serenity replace the anxiety. 62.3 2003 Larkin ¯ John of the Cross's Message for Today The dark night in general is the whole spiritual journey from beginning to end. Thus in John of the Cross the ascetical efforts that begin the journey to divine union do not complete the task. The dark night is needed for that. Why? Because our devious human nature, one's false self, goes underground into the unconscious and blocks a person's surrender to God in disguised ways. Jungian psychology calls the buried false self the shadow. It is made up of the capital sins, like lust or pride; in pious people these weaknesses take on forms of pseudo-piety that are as destructive as the crass expressions. Centuries before Jung, John was an expert on uncovering the shadow or dark side of human nature. His teaching is that only God can heal the shadow at its roots. God does this, not by "fixing" it, much less removing it, but by helping us confront and accept it and then move on to total surrender to God. One of John's great contributions is this teaching on the dark night. The dark night in general is the whole spiritual journey from beginning to end; the dark night under consideration here is one phase of the purification process, and is called the passive dark night of the senses. The new knowledge and love that are pure gift from God at this point (and called in-fused contemPlation) reconfigure the spiritual life. Inner worldly goods all lose their appeal. One sees them in their truth, and in comparison with God (Ascent 1.4; 3.20.2), and so they recede into irrelevance. At the same time God is no longer available in the cozy relationship of the past. The new knowledge and love of God is camouflaged and not knowledge in the usual Review for Religious sense, since it is apophatic, that is, knowing by unknowing. Nothing is felt by the senses, and the action of God is too subtle to be recognized. The result is ennui and accidie. John of the Cross reassures the beleaguered soul that the new state is an advance. The darkness is from God. John gives signs to authenticate the true grace from counterfeits. They are persistent dryness, the inability to function in the old ways, and the ache for God. Something new is going on. God is present in the scary silence. The person must relax and let God take over. Such is the dark tunnel of beginning infused contemplation. The new way of relating is communion. Instead of 'T' and "Thou" outside one another, the experience is "we" or "us." Mystics revel in this intimacy. It is at-one-ness with God. Such is the experience of this and every other kind of contemplation. It is in contrast to rational thinking about an object out in front. This is the way to just be-ing, participating in one life together, "abiding in Christ and Christ abiding in the person" (see Jn 15:5). Contemplation happens in prayer, in ministry, and in human relationships. It is a fine-tuning of the state of grace. It happens when childish babbling and chatting with God give way to silence. Only silence can handle the new knowledge and love. The silence may disconcert and cause anxiety, because nothing seems to be going on and one fears the emptiness. In fact, a great deal is going on, and the soul is undergoing a deeper purification and illumination. John tells the person to stay quiet, at attention. This blessed state is the proximate objective of the beginner in meditation. In John's view it may take a year or so to reach it.2 In my experience the apprenticeship is longer. It may take several years before one moves beyond discursive meditation into this prayer of silence. 62.3 2003 Larkin * John of the Cross's Message for Today Contemplation Today But something different is happening on the contemplative landscape today. Instead of working for years with discursive meditation and perhaps not entering " the dark night of the senses at all, people in all walks of life are choosing to practice a new kind of contemplative prayer. The contemporary practice is a new category and not the same as the contemplative prayer and contemplation of John of the Cross. For him these two terms are synonymous and always describe the absolutely free gift of infused contemplation. Contemplative prayer today is not discursive meditation, nor is it per se infused contemplation. It is an intermediary between meditation and contemplation. Centering prayer, Christian Meditation, and the Jesus Prayer cultivate silence and presence to God. In John's terminology these forms belong to meditation, since the prayer is active, personally chosen, and self-directed. But they are a kind of contemplation, because they are silent, without words or images or discursive movement from point to point. They are a species of contemplation, because they are communion with the Trinity. Thousands of people are practicing this self-initiated contemplative prayer. They are not forced into this way of relating to God; they choose it. They enter into deliberate and wordless silence. Instead of being busy inquiring, analyzing, and making multiple acts of the affections, they remain present to the divine indwelling in simple awareness and attention to the gift of grace within. This form of prayer is on the growing edge of Christian life. I believe that it is a gift to the church at this point in history. There is a widespread conviction that we do not have to wait until we are forced into the silence. We can choose it and foster it, and a fruitful kind of prayer results. All our other prayer, such as the liturgy and lectio divina, and our apostolic action and for Religious community relationships as well, are affected by this entering within. We come at life from a deeper level. All we need is an "open mind and open heart" to welcome the God hidden in the depths of our souls. This prayer is simply presence, silence, encounter beyond words. The challenge in this kind of prayer is to maintain the silence, to keep focused on the presence of God. The three forms under consideration use a word or a phrase as a way of maintaining attention. Centering prayer uses a holy word like Abba or Jesus to express one's consent to the divine presence and renew one's presence to God; the word is repeated as often as it is needed. Christian Meditation and the Jesus Prayer use the sacred word as a mantra, that is, a phrase repeated throughout the prayer. The usual mantra in Christian Meditation is the Aramaic word "maranatha," which means "Come, Lord." It is a greeting found in the New Testament. The mantra of the Jesus Prayer is the words "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner." You will not find these prayer forms in the writings of John of the Cross. The architects of these prayer disciplines do not presume the presence of infused contemplation, though they hope that the practice will lead there. John Main maintained that Christian Meditation was a traditional form of meditation in the medieval church. Actually he was not a stickler about terminology or theological distinctions; he saw meditation, contemplation, and contemplative prayer as synonyms. The method of meditation taught by John of the Cross may well have been along the lines of John Main. Beginners were to "ponder a divine mystery.''3 A common way of doing that in early monasticism was to repeat

Issue 59.4 of the Review for Religious, 2000. ; )ULY: AUGUST 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 4 to Gbd~s ,univerial call, to holiness by ~n~aking available :to tb~mJtbe~piritual legaHes }bat flow from tbe cbarism~ of Catbolic ~onse~ated 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 P.O. Box 29260; ~VVashington, 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 Re'biew for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (article~, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. 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 OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ ¯ Patricia Wittberg SC JULY AUGUST 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 4 contents 342 women religious Another Window on the Crisis in Women's Communities Mary Anne Foley CND presents the renewal of women's communities as a work in progress which faces the challenge to move beyond .present viewpoints in order to see a fuller truth. 358 A Path of Humility and Truth: Historical Reminiscence Bernadine Pieper CHM shares her experience of being in leadership at the time of Vatican II changes. 368 finding God Einding God's WiII--A Maneuver W. Henry Kenney Sj describes a process for finding God's will by popping loaded questions to God in prayer and noticing the pattern of desolations or consolations. 379 Consulting Your Inner Wisdom Hilary Ottensmeyer OSB guides us to the central core of ourselves where we hear the echoes of the voice of Jesus and of all the good people who have been examples of faith and good conduct for us. Review for Religious religious vocations Tell Them, Tell the New Members. Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ proposes the need to share with younger members of congregations hints about what is most central to religious life: the mystery of divine intimacy. 396 Sister Moms: Something Old, Something New Louise Cababe OP reports on the contemporary phenomenon of women, having been married and having raised a family, bringing a new and beautiful experience to religious congregations. 399 Vocational Confidence Donald Macdonald SMM sketches out an environment of vocational confidence whei'e vocations are invited, expected, challenged, and supported. 410 prayer perspectives Praying through Sleep A. Paul Dominic SJ explores various relationships between our sleeping and our praying. 420 Toward a Spirituality of Weariness Michael D. Moga SJ considers some of the paths that lead to spiritual treasures hidden in the areas of our exhaustion and weariness. departments 340 Prisms 430 Canonical Counsel: Exceptions to Duration of the Canonical Novitiate 435 Book Reviews July-August 2000 prisms Te jubilee year we are cele-brating provides us a challenge to our observance of the Sabbath. Sabbath has always been identified with the seventh day--the day of the Lord's rest after the six days' work of creation as depicted in chapter one of.the Book of Genesis. The Christian tradition reidentified the Lord's day with the resurrection victory of Jesus, bringing to fullness the work of redemption. The idea of refraining from work has often received greater attention even though the church has always identified "making holy" the Lord's day--Sunday--by the twofold obligation of celebrating the Eucharist and doing no servile work. Of course, there h~s been a lot of moral casuistry applied to the meaning of servile work, so much, perhaps, that the focus on God slipped because of the overwhelming emphasis on human activity--what was right, what was wrong, how long or how drudging could the work be, and so On. Pe.rhaps this year of jubilee can be a call to us to mov~ beyond the casuistry and to recapture the spirit of the Sabbath. Sabbath means, above all, a chosen awareness of spending time with God. If we are to spend time with God, then we have to take time for ourselves--not just time filled up with more "doing," even .with passive sporting events or active participations in games, but time which we describe so well today in terms of just "being." Sabbath is meant to be a deeply humane time because then God can become more active in us. Sabbath points to the movement of the oft-quoted expression of St. Irenaeus: "God's glory is the human being come fully alive, and seeing God is what human life is." Review for Religqous Eucharist belongs to the Christian Sunday observance because we celebrate God's glory shining out in the victorious risen Jesus, the firstborn of the new creation. But what else for us belongs to our Sabbath observance? What enhances our relationship with God? In other words, how do we devote time to making ourselves more humane--loving, compassionate, wise, generous, available, shar-ing- so that God's glory does shine out now through us? When we truly observe the Sabbath, we are more and more like the sacra-ments of God that our Christian vocation calls us to be. Another viewpoint. In the northern hemisphere, vacation time is upon us. Vacation, being personal rest time, shares in the sabbath notion. We sometimes refer to spiritual retreats as "vacations with God." Retreats, of course, take their focus from considering our relation with God. But would we be acting more Christian if we viewed ordinary vacation time through a prism similar to our Sunday observance? Vacation time does not need to be spent "reli-giously," performing devotional prayers and acts. But would it not be appropriate for us Christians to spend our recuperative and relaxing time with a more spiritual focus? Vacation means a time of "emptying out" (of mental cobwebs and secular preoccupations) and a "leaving space" (for attention to an ever present and loving God) in the ordinariness of our life. "Keep holy the sabbath day," then, should draw our attention not to what is to be avoided, but to what enhances our relationship with God, with ourselves, with our neighbor, and with our world. Those relationships are meant to be observed together, as a whole, when we speak of "keeping holy." Keeping holy deals with all our relationships viewed in the light of God and Jesus Christ. 'When we keep holy, we move with the Spirit. We let ourselves be moved by the Spirit--with all those with whom we converse, in all things we do. Jubilee, sabbath, and our secular vacation all find their mean-ing in the one reality of celebrating God in our life. This millen-nium year is the opportunity to remember thht jubilees, sabbaths, and vacations come to us not by some kind of law or right, but by gift--the gift of God. These time periods remind us to take stock and enjoy the God-with-us now so that we take from these "moments" the realized promise and consolation of our lifetime with God forever. ¯David L. Fleming SJ 37uly-August 2000 women MARY ANNE FOLEY Another Window on the Crisis in Women's Communities religious Last year I spent much of Holy Week working my way through Ann Carey's Sisters in Crisis: The Tragic Unraveling of Women's Religious Communities.l The book's reviews did not make me anxious to read it, but I felt obliged to do so. For some years most of my research has focused on the history of religious communities of women, and my concerns about initiating new members have forced me to confront questions about the future of this way of life. Moreover, having lived through the tumultuous past three decades of change in women's communities, I have wanted and needed to gain some perspective on the experience) Although not planned, the timing of my reading proved to be both appropriate and helpful. I felt pain and anger at seeing the women who were most instru-mental in leading the changes characterized as deliber-ately manipulative, bent on revenge, unfaithful, and heretical, and those who moved with the changes they advocated, as naive, foolish, or incapable of under-standing what was taking place. At another time I might have been inclined simply to dismiss Carey's work, but reading it in the shadow of the cross enabled me to lis- Mary Anne Foley CND, a member of the Congregation of Notre Dame of Montreal, is an associate professor of the-ology at the University of Scranton; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18510. Review fir Religious ten to what was being said under and through the words, and hence to become vulnerable to it. It was somewhat like the expe-rience of reading The Autobiography ofMakolm X. I knew I was not the "white devil" he came to loathe while in prison, but I began to see why he viewed me in that way and then to recognize my own complicity in his hellish situation. Carey's stated intention is simply to document the significant changes that have taken place within Catholic communities of women in the United States over the last forty years. She does so as a journalist, relying not on her own experience but on personal conversations and extensive archival research. The book's subtitle, however, reveals the perspective from which she writes. She is convinced that the changes have been an aberration, leading these groups away from genuine religious life. Carey belieyes that the sis-ters most disaffected as a result of the changes are afraid to speak for themselves, and so shehas chosen to speak for them. While always naming the "change-oriented" sisters she cites, she often identifies her sources among "traditional" sisters only by the name of their congregation or as Sister S., for example) One of these anonymous sources insists that many older religious are experi-encing "a time of martyrdom" as they risk being "cut off, threat-ened, and persecuted" if they challenge the directions their communities have taken (Crisis, 309). Whether or not this sister represents the views of many others, and even whether or not the threat she describes is real, it is important that she be heard, and Carey challenges the reader to listen. According to Sisters in Crisis, the reason for what emerged during the postconciliar years was, first of all, a program of mis-information concerning authentic Vatican Council II teaching, orchestrated prifiaarily by officers of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR), known earlier as the Conference of Major Superiors of Women (CMSW). Carey traces the rebellion back to the Sister Formation Movement in the 1950s, which exposed young sisters to the social sciences and "controversial and speculative" theology. The Sisters' Survey of 1966-1967, con-ducted by the CMSW, is presented as playing a key role in "indoc-trinating" sisters about possible new directions for change. The definitive step in the process of "co-opting" and "stealing" the renewal is said to be the "coup" by which the officers of the CMSW altered the nature of their organization by arranging for a revision of its bylaws and changing its name from CMSW to LCWR. At var- July-August 2000 Foley ¯ Another Window on the Crisis ious points in the process, in Carey's view, the Vatican issued clear mandates to return to a more controlled process of renewal, but these leaders refused to obey. Opposing Perspectives Since Lora Quifionez and Mary Daniel Turner were among the leaders of the LCWR during the 1970s and 1980s, it is not sur-prising that their interpretation of the last forty years is diamet-rically the opposite of Carey's. As a result, reading their book, The Transformation of the American Catholic Sister, in conjunction with Sisters in Crisis was both fascinating and unsettling. According to Quifionez and Turner, the changes in women's communities are not the result of a plan devised by a few politically astute activists and then foisted upon an undereducated and unsuspecting mass of sisters. Rather, the transformation of these communities reflects a maturing of American sisters at large; that is, they have grown more conscious of their identity as Americans, as women, and as moral agents? Given this difference in interpretation, it is interesting to note the substantial agreement of these two works on the importance of the Sister Formation movement and especially the LCWR in shap-ing the last forty years of religious life in the United States. Both are clear that the Sisters' Survey went beyond its original purpose of assessing the readiness of American sisters and the availability of resources for the renewal mandated by Vatican II. Both con-clude that the survey itself affected that renewal. And both main-tain that underlying the changes was a new belief among sisters in the validity of their experience. As Carey describes it, "some women religious determined that their own 'lived experience' was more valid for defining religious life than were any of the direc-fives coming from the church" (Crisis, 75). Quifionez and Turner not only agree; they chart the emergence of that beliefi "Sisters began to notice that even long-held and never-to-be-challenged philosophical and theological premises lent themselves to the pur-poseful sounding of experience, personal and social. Experience possessed its own authority" (Transformation, 38). More significant still is the fact that neither work acknowl-edges the possibility that those whose perspective on renewal is different could contribute something toward a more profound renewal. This is more apparent in Sisters in Crisis. Although Carey Revie~v for Religious admits that at times ignorance may have played a role in the deci-sions that were made, for the most part she attributes baser motives to the main actors: "Some religious institutes purposely expanded the years between general chapters so that experiments could be stretched out. Others purposely incorporated items into their con-stitutions that they knew would never be approved by Rome so they could continue experimenting endlessly" (Crisis, 38-39). Quifionez and Turner are far more nuanced in their expression, and they do not impute motivation to such groups as the Consortium Perfectae Caritatis, which consisted largely of community leaders who had renounced membership in the LCWR. However, the absence of any critique of actions taken by the LCWR makes the reader suspect that their account may not be as objective as it first appears. This becomes particularly evi-dent in the concluding chapter of Tran~Corrnation, where Quifionez and Turner list questions to be resolved if religious communities of women are to have a future in the United States. They accurately iden-tify one of the key questions: Is it helpful or even honest to retain canonical status? But they proceed to a further series of questions, all of which imply that the only possible answer to the question of canonical status is no. Moreover, in noting that the hierarchy and the sisters must face the questions honestly, they assert that such a process "will exact a different price from each of them. For the hierarchy it will mean giving up dominative ways of governing; for sisters it will entail laying claim to rightful uses of power. For both, it will involve owning that they are peers, no matter how distinct their role in the church" (Transformation, 167). Tran~orrnation offers ample evidence of "dominative ways of governing" by members of the hierarchy, and even Carey admits that the church officials have been "obstinate" at times. These few words seem to imply that only the hierarchy has misused power and that sisters' only sin has been the failure to use it. This would surely be an oversimplification, of a sort that would tend to polarize further those who disagree about the direction the changes have taken. Underlying the changes was a new belief among sisters in the validity of their experience. July-Auffust 2000 S#ters in Crisis was published five years after Transformation and appears to be intended in part as a response to that work, a sort of revisionist history. While Quifionez and Turner did not have the opportunity to respond to Carey's assertions directly, the current leadership of the LCWR responded by claiming that the women in American religious, communities today are not "sisters in crisis," but rather "sisters in service."s There is truth in this assertion. Many of those castigated by Carey really are performing service of inestimable value, and for them to focus more on that service than on institutional survival does not call for the word "tragic" in Carey's subtitle. But that is not to say that I think there is no ~ri-sis. 6 It has been common in recent years to refer to the two Chinese characters that together convey the meaning of crisis, one referring to danger and the other to opportunity. Carey is right: there is a real danger that women's religious communities as we have known them in the United States will become extinct. But the LCWR leadership is also right in noting that the service which women's communities offer indicates a time of great poten-tial. Here I offer some reflections on how the opportunity pre-sent in this moment of crisis may be recognized and embraced. A Window of Opportunity The story is told of two men seated in the same room in a library. One was very hot and opened the room's only window. The other, afraid that his papers would blow all over, immediately closed, it, only to have it reopened by the first. The reaction of the other can be guessed. When the librarian saw the brewing conflict, she went into the next room and opened the window there, thus providing cool air without creating a disruptive, breeze.7 It seems to me that those who find themselves in deadlock on how women's communities have come to be where they are need to discover another window through which to view the last three decades. For this they may well be helped by James Fowle~:'s the-ory of faith development. For Fowler faith is a verb; it is how a per-son makes meaning of the world. We tend to "faith" in a particular way until that way of making meaning no longer works for us and compels us to make meaning differently; this he describes as a new "stage" of faith.8 During adolescence, for example, many peo-ple begin to base their faith on that of the significant people in their lives. They may have reflected deeply on what they believe Review for Religious and can probably describe the content of their faith, but it is largely tacit. Later the demands of adult life, particularly in a culture no longer homogeneous, often move people toward Individuative- Reflexive faith. Those in this stage can articulate the reasons for their faith. In addition, the source of authority for their faith has moved inward, so that they believe because they have chosen to believe. Even if the content.of their faith remains the same, it has become their own.9 Fowler notes that, as a result of midlife stocktaking, some adults experience yet another transition, to what he calls Conjunctive faith, in which they can peacefully hold their own belief while truly listening to another whose belief is different. No longer do they perceive difference as an attack on their hard-won faith that must be defended at all costs. Rather, the other person's faith becomes an invitation to deepen and refine their own belief. Such faith is not possible until one has fully moved to the Individuative-Reflexive stage by both internalizing authority and making one's belief explicit. (Otherwise what appears a willingness to allow one's own faith to be influenced by others may simply be a form of the tacit faith that allows others to define what. one believes.) The fruit of Conjunctive faith is real dialogue, which begins with the belief that each one comes to the table with a perspective on the truth and includes the humble acknowledgment ~hat each has in some way failed to serve that truth. Fowler's theory has been applied to the "faithing" process of groups as well as individuals. Of course, not all members of the group are at the same stage at any given time. But the theory can be helpful in describing a group's changing "corporate culture." In the years before the Second Vatican Council, for example, when sisters lived in an environment that exemplified one and the same faith perspective, many were able to make meaning of their world through the tacit faith that the environment supported. As Quifionez and Turner describe that time, "canonical definitions, legislated by church authorities, gave 'religious life' its existence, its legitimacy, and its value" (Transformation, 36). In asking women's communities to return to their sources and to read the signs of The other person's faith becomes an invitation to deepen and refine their own belief 3%dy-dugust 2000 Foley * Another I4andow on the Crisis the times, the council caused them to become more analytical. At the same time, both the changes sisters began to make and the movements in the church and in society around them weakened many of the structures which had reinforced their commitment, so that those who remained were forced to acquire personal reasons for doing so. The movement between external and internalized authority is well illustrated by the responses which the members of LCWR gave to actual and proposed canons of church law in 1968 and 1977. Quifionez and Turner note that these responses differed, not in content, but in the way they were justified: "While in the 1960s sisters invoked Vatican Council II to legitimate their view-points, in 1977 they relied on the authority of their own experience to ground their critique" (Transformation, 56). This suggests that Carey is mistaken in assuming that most changes were the result of a few very influential leaders imposing on the rest their way of seeing the world. That may have been true for some, but, by illus-trating the extent to which "change-oriented" sisters began to appeal to. personal experience, Carey herself provides evidence that in general these women had come to a personally appropri-ated faith?° In my view, profound as this kind of faith may be, it is limited by the tendency to exalt one's internal authority to the extent of being unable to allow one's belief system to be affected by oth-ers. This can make it almost impossible to move together as a group. At a chapter several years ago, it was proposed that the community as a group fast and abstain on Fridays as a sign of their hunger for peace. One person objected vehemently, not to the action in itself, but to committing the whole group to any practice. Her memory of practices imposed in the past seemed to make it impossible for her to accept such a limitation on individual free-dom, even when that limitation was chosen. I believe that the future of religious communities depends on their moving beyond such a stance toward the deeper openness that constitutes what Fowler calls Conjunctive faith. Over the years, many "change-oriented" sisters have looked at and tried on elements of what Carey calls "the latest theological, sociological, psychological--and eventually New Age--fads" (Crisis, 138). She condemns both this and what she considers an excessive tolerance for the views of everyone. It seems to me, how-ever, that for many sisters the opportunity presented by the pre- Review for Religious sent moment is the call to a still greater openness, by which they can allow themselves to truly listen, on the one hand, to new alter-natives and, on the other, to those who question their new ways of understanding and living. Carey does not provide evidence to sup-port her accusation that "change-oriented" communities have deliberately silenced their more traditional members, and yet I believe that in some cases the voices of these sisters have not been heard, or their views have been dismissed as reactionary, irrational, foolish. Any honest dialogue would have to begin with everyone admitting some failure to listen. Openness to dialogue is possible, though certainly most dif-ficult, when the other is not similarly open. Carey speaks of "dia-logue" as if it is often used like a ploy in a game,11 and her position throughout Sisters in Crisis suggests an unwillingness to concede that "change-oriented" sisters could possess a piece of the truth. That, however, does not free the latter from the need to continue discerning where the critique offered by more traditional sisters has its own truth that deserves to be faithfully responded to. Opening a different window on the future requires humble dialogue around many of the issues raised by Carey, among which are the mission and vowed life of sisters, their place in the church, and the impli-cations of "refounding" religious communities. Mission Even though she acknowledges that justice has played an important role in sisters' traditional apostolates, Carey maintains that "change-oriented" sisters have recently replaced their true, "spiritual" mission with social justice as "a new primary mission" (Crisis, 112). For example, she criticizes the choice of nonviolence as the theme of the 1996 LCWR conference, claiming that this reveals "the conference's continuing priority bf placing sociopo-litical issues ahead of spiritual issues" (Crisis, 242). In this.discus-sion she comes close to what Quifionez and Turner describe as the worldview of sisters before 1960, for whom the sacred and the secular occupy two different spheres. The coauthors contend that since then many sisters have moved beyond such a view and "increasingly frame the meaning of their life in terms of the church's evangelizing mission" (Transformation, 59). The bishops at the 1971 synod called "action on behalf of justice., a consti-tutive dimension of the preaching of the gospel."12 In light of that July-./tugust 2000 Foley ¯ ~lnotber Windo~ on the ~ teaching, Carey's apparently outdated perspective seems to have nothing to offer the women about whom Quifionez and Turner write. Indeed, seeing spirituality as somehow pitted against jus-tice is not helpful. This aspect of Carey's position, however, masks an important criticism that "change-oriented" sisters would do well to recognize. Quifionez and Turner state that dedication to mission has comd to encompass the meaning of many sisters' lives. They cite a "grow-ing tendency . to define religious identity as witness against cultural values and attitudes" and assert further that "work and identity are inseparably related" (Transformation, 79 and. 39). In my view, this comes perilously close to insisting not only that my work is my prayer, but that it is my life. This is indeed what our culture often proposes; I consider.it an area where sisters are called to take a countercultural stance. Surely there is a middle path between a spirituality that would have no relation to justice and a life that would collapse itself into work on behalf of justice or any other important value. Carey's articulation of the mission of sisters in apostolic com-munities is not satisfactory, but neither is that of Quifionez and Turner. Hence the need for dialogue around what Carey would call the "spiritual" .mission of sisters. Such dialogue could very well occur in the context of the vowed life. Vows Carey claims that many elderly sisters who disapprove of the directions in which their congregations have moved "take very seriously the vows they made, and they are not only disturbed that religious life has been fundamentally restructured in their own communities, but even more alarmed that in the restructured model it is difficult, if not impossible, for them to live out the vows they made to God" (Crisis, 306). Nowhere does Sisters in Crisis explain how the restructuring of communities could make it "impossible for them to live out the vows." Perhaps these sisters believe that, for them to fulfill the demands of obedience and poverty, there must be specific persons designated as superiors who give commands and permissions. If so, a system in which decisions about ministry and the use of goods are made commu-nally may never provide what they are demanding. As has already been noted, Quifionez and Turner maintain Review for Religious that the defining element of many sisters' lives is no longer the vows, but rather witness. This suggests that for these women the concerns of the sisters whose perspective Carey shares are irrel-evant. And yet Quifionez and Turner also say, "For a large num-ber of the women, their shared life has to be linked to ultimacy, to the values of the gospel, to the deepest insights of religious tra-ditions" (Transformation, 166). Just how their lives can be "linked to ultimacy" is an ongoing question that must be addressed if there is to be a future for women's communities. It seems to me that addressing it will be difficult as long as the expression is as vague as that given here. I suspect that the word God is omitted because of the desire to be inclusive. To be sure, speaking of God is dangerous, and moreover help on the journey toward God can come from various traditions, including those that do not name God. But one must begin a journey from some point. Sandra Schneiders has pointed out the danger when communities that consider themselves religious have highly indi-vidualized, and eclectic spiritualities unconnected to the Christian tradition in which the communities are rooted. For such groups, she suggests, "the quiet sidelining of Christian .identity believed and practiced in the church is not compatible with their ongoing life and self-renewal as a religious congregation." 13 Over the centuries Christian women and men have sought to link their lives to ultimate, reality, which they have named God, by means of the vows. They have done this not only and, in my view, not primarily as a witness to others, but because God has somehow reached into their lives, and so, in being true to them-selves, they structure their lives around their relationship to God.14 Certainly there is need to reconceive and even reformu-late what is meant by the vows,15 but this must be done with recognition of their connection to the divine and hence of their significance beyond that of any actions .they imply. Vows of this kind must indeed be taken seriously. Surely there is a middle path between a spirituality that would have no relation to justice and a life that would collapse itself into work on behalf of justice. July-duffust 2000 Foley * Another Window on the Crisis Church Quifionez and Turner say, "Central to their quest for mean-ing, we believe, is the identity of sisters as church women" (Transeormation, 166). But, as Eucharia Malone RSM pointed out as early as 1970, "this relationship with the.church seems to be the point on which we are divided" (see Crisis, 95). In fact, the very definition of church is often at the heart of the polarization within and between women's communities. At first glance it is difficult to imagine a rapprochement between the understandings of church espoused by Carey and by Quifionez and Turner. Sisters in Crisis assumes a church in which the initiative comes from the hierarchy. As a result, Carey implies that sisters' meetings held in 1964-1965 to discuss strategies for renewal were subversive because Perfectae caritatis had not yet been promulgated formally)6 What could she have to say to those for whom church is a discipleship of equals, each of whom is responsible for initiating change? Many traditional as well as "change-oriented" groups have claimed to be following the teachings of Vatican II in their very different approaches to renewal. But the council documents them-selves represent compromises between bishops of various per-spectives. They are often ambiguous concerning the church and hence concerning the role of women's communities within the church. The situation is not unlike what followed in the wake of the last reforming council, the Council of Trent. Like Vatican II, Trent carried its own contradictions within itself,, including both a call for widespread education and an insistence on cloister for women ready to dedicate themselves to the education of young women. The conflicts, that resulted were virtually inevitable. Indeed, the experience of the post-Tridentine church calls into question any notion of reform as neat or uniform in application. In general, Carey fails to place the events she narrates within a larger historical context. She takes the American experience of religious life in the first half of.this century as normative and con-sequendy disparages many of the changes that have occurred since then. Research into the foundations of many communities before this century has revealed considerable struggle, especially with members of the hierarchy, over the very issues of ministry and conformity to monastic lifestyle that so concern Carey?7 Her lack of attention to the history of women's communities appears to be related to her sympathy with the representatives of the Consortium Perfectae Caritatis, who wanted discussion with LCWR officials Review for Religious to focus on "absolute truths that would transcend., any age, any period of time, any period of history" (Crisis, 283). Quifionez and Turner, on the other hand, are well aware of the various forms in which what is called "religious life" has mani-fested itself over the centuries, accurately noting that it is always a "historically conditioned" phenomenon.~s They are less attentive, however, to the values sought by sizable numbers of contemporary women and their foremother~. For genuine dialogue to take place, it might be necessary to declare a moratorium on valuing things either as "absolute" or as "historically conditioned." It could go far toward healing not only some of the divisions in women's com-munities, but also some of the woundedness of the larger church. Refounding In her concluding chapter Carey addresses herself to tradi-tional sisters who find themselves in communities that have moved away from what she considers the essence of religious life. She believes that such women may be called to "refound" their com-munities, and so offers a number of recommendations for how that might take place: "This refounding must be accomplished by the sisters within those institutes themselves, for refounding of religious orders cannot be mandated or directed by hierarchy, clergy, or laity, though legitimate refounding efforts should be supported by these other groups of people. In the refounding pro-cess, some members of a religious institute may come to the real-ization that their concept of consecrated life really does not fit the church understanding of a religious institute, and so those women may wish to pursue one of the other forms of consecrated life defined by the church" (Crisis, 328). Carey does not clarify why refounding a community "cannot be mandated or directed by the hierarchy" even though that is precisely what she believes its role should have been during the postconciliar renewal. Equally surprising is the open-ended pro-cess she describes, which it cannot be assumed will conform to the standard definition of a religious institute. Of course she assumes that, if what emerges does not fit that definition, the alter-native is another already defined form. In contrast, Vita consecrata, among other documents, assumes that forms not yet defined are also emerging at the present time.19 . In these comments Carey sketches out, no doubt unwittingly, j~uly-/lugust 2000 Fole~ ¯ Another l~ndow on the Crisis what many perceive to have been going on during all these years since the council: initiatives taken by those within the commu-nity, support for those initiatives from (some) other constituencies in the church, and ~n honest confrontation of the questions that traditional understandings of religious life bring to the fore. The element that Carey believes was missing in so many attempts at renewal is "legitimacy," which she understands to be close con-fortuity to the document "Essential Elements of Religious Life," issued by the Vatican Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes in 1983. Many "change-oriented" sisters and commu-nities consider that sense of legitimacy overly narrow, but in so doing they seem often to have acted as if all changes were equally legitimate. I believe that Carey and others have rightly criticized processes of experimentation that lacked mechanisms of evalua-tion. 2° Many are not fully satisfied with what has emerged in the. course of renewal, but are not sure how to name what is missing. Carey comments sharply on the failure of "change-oriented" communities to attract many new members. In her view, there are only two possible reasons for this, "unselfishness or pathological denial" of the imminent demise of their congregations, and she is quite sure that the latter interpretation is the accurate one. I think' these are false alternatives, though both no doubt play a role at times. A more significant factor in the decline in the number of women joining these communities seems to be a feeling of ambivalence, both among members of women's communities and in the church at large, ambivalence which results in part from massive change without evil-uation and consequently without general ownership. Carey, along with ~¢arious church officials, has declared the period of experimentation for women's communities to be over. But her proposal for refoundation suggests that a new, more pro-found kind of experimentation is just what is called for. The women who are coming to communities these days, particularly those young enough not to have lived through the years immedi-ately following the council, do not share the ambivalence of their older sisters. No doubt it is they who will lead the way in the founding and refounding still to come. Neither/Nor, Looking Anew, Nuancing In my opinion, the renewal of women's communities in the Catholic Church over the past forty years was not "co-opted" or Review for Religious "stolen" by their leaders, but neither has it been fully accom-plished. It is a work in progress, and in that work there has been considerable polarization between different approaches, and mutual recrimination as well. The challenge at this time may be to move beyond present viewpoints, to look through some other window onto those same issues and see a fuller truth. Those who wish to find such a window would do well to heed what Carey has written. Certainly Sisters in Crisis is flawed in its use of sources. Many are cited out of context, they are often listed without explanation or analysis, and generalizations are made on the basis of undisclosed and apparently meager evidence. But Carey's effort to speak in the nameof sisters whose views may have been ignored in the process of renewal provides a significant resource for those who are willing to look and listen. What has been said here about renewal within women's com-munities is true of the renewal of the whole church; in many ways it holds true as well for liberation movements within North America and across the planet. It is often asserted that communi-ties of men and women are called to take a prophetic stance. In my view, such an assertion requires careful nuancing. But, if sisters who represent different perspectives can learn to engage in gen-uine dialogue about their recent history and possible future direc-tions, I believe that could be prophetic indeed, not only for the church, but for all of humanity. Notes i Ann Carey, Sisters in Crisis: The Tragic Unraveling of Women's Religious Communities (Huntington, Indiana: Our Sunday Visitor Press, °1997). 2 The focus of my work is women's communities, and the sources for the present reflection deal specifically with women in the United States. Other groups, too, may find what I say relevant. 3 These are not my preferred terms, but since Carey uses them I will follow her lead. 4 Lora Ann Quifionez CDP and Mary Daniel Turner SNDdeN, The Tranyformation of American Catholic Sisters (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1992). s "Book rebukes renewal; nuns rebuke book," National Catholic Reporter, 23 May 1997, p. 6. 6 Former LCWR president Doris Gottemoeller RSM agrees, but she believes that Carey has not named the crisis adequately. See "Religious Life in Crisis," Origins, 25 February 1999, pp. 634-638. ~uly-August 2000 Foley ¯ Another Window on the Crisis 7 One modern source for the story is Roger Fisher, William Ury, and Bruce Patton, Getting to Yes: Negotiating Agreement without Giving In, 2nd ed. (New York: Penguin Books, 1991), p. 40. Walter Wink suggests that finding a third alternative in a situation that has reached an impasse is a gospel imperative. See his Engaging the Powers: Discernment and Resistance in a World of Domination (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1992). s Fowler suggests that the pattern of stages he describes remains valid regardless of the content of one's faith. It is rather a factor of one's cognitive and moral development,.although the circumstances in which one finds oneself tend to propel one toward a new stage. His theory is quite pragmatic: no stage is better than another; it simply may be more adequate to the realities one has to confront. 9 Note that one of these elements can be present without the other. Persons with an analytical bent can ana!yze the content of a faith that is not personally appropriated. Similarly, persons who tend to be inde-pendent may formally reject the faith of significant others before being able to give a reason for their own belief, other than the fact that it is their own. 10 This is not to say that more traditional communities have not made the same transition. I simply do not have enough evidence to make such a judgment. II She maintains that, when their constitutions were not approved, "many institutes simply played the game of prolonged 'dialogue' with Rome, hoping to win approval for practices that already had been in effect for years" (Crisis, 314). 12 Justice in the World, §6. 13 Sandra M. Schneiders IHM, "Congregational Leadership and Spirituality in the Postmodern Era," Review for Religious 57, no. 1 (January-February 1998): 26. ~4 I am indebted to Edward Vacek SJ in "Religious Life and the Eclipse of Love for God," Review for Religious 57, no. 2 (March-April 1998): 118-137, for his description of the vows as'structuring one's life around the relationship to God. ~s Barbara Fiand SND has articulated a theology of the vows in keep-ing with an e~;olutionary, nondualistic worldview. See her Living the I~uion: Religious Vows in an Age of Change (New York: Crossroad, 1990) and Wrestling with God: Religious Life in Search of Its Soul (New York: Crossroad, 1996). 16 See Crisis, pp. 110-111. 17 HWR News and Notes, published by the Conference on History of Women Religious (ed. Karen M. Kennelly csJ; Mount St. Mary's College; 12001 Chalon Road; Los Angeles, California 90049), tracks current scholarship in this area, much of which is presented at that orga-nization's triennial conferences. Both the enormous variety of expressions and the common themes Review for Religious manifest in that variety are very evident in Jo Ann Kay McNamara, Sisters in Arms: Catholic Nuns through Two Millennia (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1996). ,9 See ~ta consecrata, Origins 25, no. 41 (4 April 1996); also in The Church and Consecrated Life (St. Louis: Review for Religious, 1996), pp. 323-436; see esp. §§12 and 62. The latter section is explicit about the pos-sibility that new forms emerging today may come to be approved offi-cially at a later time. 20 For example, Gottemoeller, "Religious Life in Crisis" (see note 6), p. 635. At the LCWR assembly in August 1999, there were a number of calls for evaluation of the processes of renewal. Musings of the Prodigal's Brother Look at him! The life of the party. Music, fatted calf, ring- all to celebrate my brother's return from a wasted life. Squandered inheritance, prostitutes, and hunger shared with swine. Look at my lathe!! Joy-filled, radiant, his long-awaited prodigal is home. Unconditional, all-forgiving love Lighting up the room with warmth and joy, my father - our father - now at peace. Look at me! Lonely, jealous, bitter. The son who did not squander - but gave my father only loyal, total service, What's this? My envy giving way? My inner blindness praying, "Lord, that I may see"? Maria Corona Crumback IHM ffuly-August 2000 BERNADINE PIEPER A Path of Humility and Truth: Historical Reminiscence T~ay, thirty-five years after Vatican Council II, many people nk that the changes in religious life arose spontaneously, somewhat like Athena springing from the forehead of Zeus. In fact, the changes took place because of intense preparation. That preparation happened in the contexts of the general culture and the individual religious communities. My community, the Congregation of the Humility of Mary, was a small congregation of approximately 430 members, and so most sisters knew one another. The sisters came from a variety of ancestral ndtionalities: Irish, German, Czech, Italian, Mexican, and others. Many of the sisters had rural backgrounds, had the experience of living with Protestants as well as Catholics, and had attended both public and Catholic schools at all levels including university. The congregation had moved from France to Pennsylvania to Missouri to Iowa and had experienced losing the motherhouse in Ottumwa, Iowa, in a 1957 fire. They were pio-neers, risk takers. Further, a remarkable group of women made up the leadership of the Congregation of the Humility of Mary from 1960 to 1966. In November 1964 the general superior, Mother Mary Nicholas, and the general council called for a congregation-wide Bernadine Pieper CHM was elected general superior of her congre-gation in 1966, shortly after Vatican Council ii. She writes from her experience of the past forty years. Her address is Humility of Mary Center; 820 West Central Park Avenue; Davenport, Iowa 52804. Review for Religious vote on a revision of the delegate selection process for the 1966 general chapter of affairs. That same month she and the council ¯ asked every convent to discuss renewal of religious life with spe-cial applications to our congregation. Background material sent for the study included Vatican II's Constitution on the Liturgy, chapters 5 and 6 of the Constitution on the Church, Pope Paul's discourse of 23 May 1964 to all religious, the original 1858 rules and regulations of the Sisters of the Humility of Mary, and Father Bernard H~iring's Christian Renewal in a Changing World. The sis-ters were also asked to study related sections of Scrip~re. The virtues listed in our original constitutions were to be studied along with the congregation's apostolate. The sisters were asked whether " we were meeting the spiritual and religious needs of the people of our time in the localities where we were working. This was a time of excitement and ferment. Discussion of these topics provided an opportunity for departure from the rather superficial conversation typical of specified recreation times. A 22 February 1965 letter from Mother Mary Nicholas states that the objective of our study was profound renewal inspired.by bib-lical, liturgical, and apostolic documents of Vatican II and by wis-dom from the congregation's experience. She said some changes would be decided by the congregation itself while others must await legislation expected in the future. "We realize that renewal of religious life will not be easy," she said. From each of four geo-graphical areas (east Iowa and Illinois, midwest Iowa, southeast Iowa, and the west), she and the general council appointed the following committees: liturgy, common life and discipline, poverty, obedience, works and apostolate, and formation and maturity. Committee members included every sister in the community. After a year of discussion, each of these committees sent a posi-tion paper, including reports and recommendations, for study by the congregation. From October 1965 to May 1966, sisters prepared proposals to present to the 1966 chapter of affairs. A total of 545 proposals on a variety of topics were prepared by the sisters, both by indi-viduals and by committees and groups. The recommendations included practically every facet of the sisters' lives and customs: elections, prayer, charity, social work, spiritual renewal, revision of rule and directory, companionship, cloister, letter writing, use of gifts, permissions, and other more mundane items such as swim-ming, ceremonies, appointments, and speeds at which to drive. ~uly-August 2000 Pieper ¯ ~t Path of Humility and Truth There were few proposals about chastity and friendship, pos-sibly due to the fact that no study group was assigned to this topic. During the previous fifty years, obedience had assumed priority for religious life. Three sisters were appointed to organize the pro-posals for presentation to th6 chapter of affairs in a logical way. After attending a workshop for religious superiors at the University of Notre Dame, the local superiors of the congregation met in the summer of 1965 to look at common life. They recom-mended a variety of changes to Mother Superior and the council. Among the changes approved were: talking at breakfast, walking outdoors after 6 p.m., eating with guests, retiring early, noncen-sorship of mail, elimination of the chapter of faults, yearly general permissions, and going without a companion to medical appoint-ments. Previously three other sisters were involved when one went to the doctor: one as her companion at the doctor's and two oth-ers to drive them there and pick them up again. In 1965, upon the recommendation of the liturgy committee, sisters began to use the breviary for morning and night prayers. A workshop on guidelines for renewal was held in spring 1966 with the cooperation of the Canon Law Society of America and the approval Of Davenport Bishop Ralph L. Hayes. The speakers were Father Paul M. Boyle CP, past president of the Canon Law Society of America; Father Kevin O'Rourke OP, coauthor of Canon Law for Religious Women; Sister Jane Marie Richardson SL, secretary of Sister Mary Luke Tobin SL, auditor at Vatican II; Sister Ignace RSM, province councilor of the Mercy Sisters' Chicago Province; and Sister Maristella (Elizabeth) Picken CHM, member of the Marycrest College religion department. Davenport sisters had also traveled to Aurora, Illinois, that spring for a speech by Sister Mary Luke Tobin. The membership for the 1966 chapter of affairs was entirely different from that of earlier chapters, which had been composed of almost as many superiors as nonsuperiors. Besides the seven ex-officio members--major .superior, council, former major superi-ors, secretary, and treasurer--seven superiors were elected from among 38, nine sisters from among 88 more than 50 years old, ten sisters from among 90 between 35 and 50 years of age, and four from among the 80 sisters under 35. All these sisters had per-petual vows. Sisters with temporary vows had only active voice. During the chapter the delegates voted to abolish all secrecy. Chapter delegates represented a wide variety of sisters. There was for Rdigious a wide spectrum of emotion--fear and impatience on the one hand, hope and excitement on the other. Everyone, however, cared for the congregation and worked hard to follow the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. Relaxation of discipline and introduction of the breviary were not the only changes which took place before the 1966 chapter of affairs. The number of entrants into the congregation had already declined before 1966. The largest number of persons to enter the congregation came in 1959 and 1960:27 and 32 respec-tively. In 1965 only six women entered, and in the spring of 1966 only four had been accepted for entrance. Sisters were aware of and inter-ested in civil rights. Though no one went to Selma or other places in the South for demonstrations, they were deeply concerned and prayed particularly when Medgar Evers was killed. They also began to help with local problems. For example, some numbers went sandbagging along the Mississippi in Davenport during the 1965 flood. They tried to do this quietly; when a picture of the sisters appeared in the daily paper, not everyone in the CHM community was happy. Probably attitudinal changes were the most important. In the 1960s the culture implied that one was incomplete without a sex-ual partner. Vatican II taught that perfection was obtainable not just by sisters in community, but also by married persons. At Marycrest College, where over one-fourth of the CHM community studied during the summer, creative and critical thinking was a college goal. Sisters began to recognize that they were thinking creatively .and critically about everything exc.ept their own lives. They became aware that they had been founded as an apostolic community and were neither cloistered nor monastic, but had been trying to live as if they were. At the chapter of affairs, on 27 June 1966, I was elected the general superior. My experience as a superior was limited to sev-eral summers for the sisters who were students at Marycrest College. I had, however, taught a majority of members of the con-gregation. This was my first chapter of affairs. M6ther Mary In 1965, upon the recommendation of the liturgy committee, sisters began to use the breviary for morning and night prayers. Pieper ¯ A Path of Humility and Truth Nicholas Sheetz, who might have provided me some guidance, died in October 1966. Mother Mary Magdalen Wilmes, another potential source of information, asked to move to Phoenix. "You can make your own mistakes," she said. I retained the designation "Sister" and took the title president instead of mother superior, as have those who succeeded me. When Father Paul Boyle CP spoke at Marycrest College in April 1966, he assured the members of the committee which orga-nized the proposals that he would be happy to help at the chapter. He came to Ottumwa from Monroe, Michigan, and was invaluable in distinguishing among aspects of church law, community law, customs, and culture. He advised us tobegin with a discussion on prayer because that was the most important topic and further-more was likely to be less controversial than the others. After considerable discussion and revision at the regular June session and a short one in December 1966, about sixty motions were approved by the delegates, either unanimously or at least 10 to 1 in favor. Mass, lauds, vespers, and an annual retreat were the only requirements regarding prayer. However, the value of prayer was endorsed, and continuing past practices was recommended. In the area of poverty, the sisters were asked to be as poor as they wished and to provide community witness to poverty by sharing things. Minor finances were to be a subject for experimentation. Each sister was to be given $15 a month for clothes and personal needs, while housing, .meals, and travel were to be provided by the local house. One sister commented that her girdle alone cost $13. Investigating congregational health insurance was approved. Home visits, travel without companions, retention of baptismal names for those who so wished, eating with persons other than commu-nity members, and letters and phone calls without censorship were approved. Broadening our apostolic works was recommended, with particular emphasis on Latin America. The value of long-range planning was noted. The following commissions were described and set up in great detaili (1) the coordinating commission on apostolic works, with subcommittees in the various areas of work; (2) rule and directory revision; (3) formation and religious renewal; (4) finance and development; and (5) habit revision. The sisters were asked to participate in annual meetings of the whole con-gregation. No time limit for experimenting was set because Pe, rfectae caritatis allowed twelve years. Review for Religious In the letter I wrote to the congregation accompanying the record of the June 1966 chapter, I said: "Many of you have prob-ably read Michael Novak's 'The New Nun' in the July Post, in which he says, 'Press reports emphasize the shortened skirts, the briefer veils, the appearance of nuns on public beaches, but these are misleading superficial aspects of a deep-running revolution. In ever increasing numbers the sisters are creating new rules to define what tasks they may or may not tackle, what styles of life they may or may not adopt.'" Change in clothes was symbolic and probably the change most criticized by the sisters' publics. The original intent was to design and adopt a simple costume with a modified veil. The process, however, led to diversity. Sisters sent requests to the coordinating commission on habit revision, with the final decision to be made by the general superior and council. At first the sisters were expected to wear a veil and white, gray, black, brown, or blue clothing. Many sisters quickly adapted to the change, Next came . requests and permission to wear red and green and finally flowered blouses. Just before the 1967 summer school, the gen-eral council decided to allow sisters to go without veils, having noticed that sisters in some communities who were still asked to wear the traditional habit were surreptitiously wearing street clothes when they were ¯ away from the convent. We felt that honesty was the better policy. At first clothes were usually made out of habits and cloaks and often were ill fitting and not very well designed. Generally sisters wore blouses, skirts, and suits. Some sisters reverted to the hairstyles of their teen years; some bought wigs. Fairly soon, though, the sisters emerged as attractive women rather than neuter icons, and sometimes this incited the envy of other women. For example, one sister found a suitable coat with a small fur collar in the poor box for the parish. She was criti-cized by some parishioners as being too extravagant in clothes. The change to contemporary clothes, the sisters thought, necessitated some means for identification. For a while each sis-ter had a name tag; then we adopted a design for a medal. It is still being used. Change in clothes was symbolic and probably the change most criticized by the sisters' publics. July-August 2000 Pieper ¯ A Path of Humility and Truth This was a time of energetic hope and gloomy predictions as well. One priest "expert" predicted that within five years the con-gregation would be extinct. Before 1966 the vow of poverty implied permission for the use of material things. After the 1966 chapter, the meaning of being po.or as one wished and sharing material things was open to interpretation. General congregational'needs included care of retired sisters, administration, and the retirement of a debt on the motherhouse. Up to this time, each house had sent as much as possible to the motherhouse. In fact, sometimes superiors vied with one other to see how much could be sent, even at the expense of local needs. As sisters began to live outside established con-vents, the question arose about ensuring a balance of individual and congregational needs. Since CHM local houses had sent to the congregational fund the amount each determined, it seemed logical to continue this process. Hence, each sister was asked to deduct from her income what was needed for her individual or house costs and send the rest to the motherhouse. Little by little most of the sisters began to contribute as much as they could to the congregation's fund. Diocesan stipends were entirely too low. In the Des Moines Diocese the stipend set for each sister was $50-$100 monthly. In the city of Des Moines, all except one parish paid $50 per month per sister. I had to go to bishops and pastors to ask for an increase in the stipend. Frequently I was told that, if the sisters went back to their habits, they could get along on $50 a month! I prepared and distributed a budget so that the sisters could be informed about real congregational needs. Funds for retreats and education were budgeted. A study was made of average expenses for an indi-vidual. Many sisters responded favorably when they were informed about the needs, both for the congregation itself and for works to assist the poor. To free active sisters from increasing costs for sisters already in retirement, we enrolled in the social security program in 1972 when it became available for sisters. Using unclaimed interest on patrimony, we set up the CHM retirement trust in 1976. Until the summer of 1966, health expenses were cared for gratis by several related hospitals. One of these began charging the sisters for services. Then we initiated a health-insurance plan. Each sister in the congregation was asked to have an annual phys-ical examination. Revie~ for Religio~ The commission on rule revision met almost immediately after the 1966 chapter. Unable to decide what to call the first product of their efforts, it settled on "Spirit and Goals" until a better name could be found. After considerable discussion a state-ment of about a page and a half was sent to all the sisters for study and recommendation. After several revisions, a statement of spirit and goals was approved by a vote of the sisters in August 1968. The statement began, "We Sisters of the Humility of Mary are a group of women in the Catholic Church who have banded together to dedicate ourselves through a special common effort to the pur-suit of life's essential meaning and to a radical response to the Christian gospel of universal love." The Spirit and Goals document was intended as a basic state-ment explaining our spirit and the meaning of religious life for the Sisters of the Humility of Mary. The remainder of the rule was intended to be directives approved by succeeding chapters of affairs. After some years, and after the rules and regulations had been arranged according to topics and divided into Books I and II, the CHM president and I presented the document to the English-speaking committee of the Sacred Congregation for Religious (SCRIS) in Rome in 1982. The committee, finding several sections unacceptable, told us to make mandated changes and resubmit the document. Since the total congregation had already approved the 1982 document, it was necessary that they subsequently vote on SCRIS's mandates. This CHM approval was not forthcoming, so for seven years the congregation followed Books I and II without papal approval. In 1988 a new rule-revision committee attempted to integrate the directives of SCRIS, now called the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL) in such a way that our identity would not be compromised. We con-sulted a canon lawyer working in the English-language depart-ment of CICLSAL. Her suggestions included moving as many items as possible to Book II, which did not require canonical approval. The main objection of CICLSAL had been our election process. After numerous revisions we were able to present the document to the CHM general assembly in the summer of 1990. It was approved by the Representative Assembly in that year and sent to Rome requesting the approval date of December 8. We distributed approved copies to the congregation in the summer of 1991. We are still probing self-determination versus community focus. ~uly-August 2000 Pieper ¯ A Path of Humility and Truth That sisters could choose their work had both positive and negative results. By 1968 we were sending openings for available positions to community members. That sisters could choose their work had both positive and negative results. Some felt insecure in having to find their own positions. Sisters who were not good teachers or who had no interest in teaching were able to go to school and train for and find occupations more in keeping with their talents. Justice was adopted as the congregation's priority. More sisters began working directly with the dispossessed, and the congregation supported their efforts. After the recommendation of Pope Paul VI encouraging American religious to go to Latin America, Father Louis Colonnese, director of PAVLA (Papal Volunteers for Latin America), rec-ommended about half a dozen places to the sis-ters. All of these were dioceses where the bishop had a pastoral plan to follow the spirit of Vatican II. Several of us went to visit Bishop Samuel Ruiz Garcia of the San Crist6bal de las Casas diocese in southern Mexico. He took us over mountains to see places where sisters had been working to show us what had been done and what the pos-sibilities were. We were so impressed that we decided not to look further, but rather to use for the program in Chiapas the money we might have spent on airplane fare to other potential sites. We were urged to send sisters also to Ambato, Ecuador. Four si~ters went to these two missions; two are still in the San Crist6bal diocese. Although the commission on formation devised an extensive plan for formation, very few women applied. Furthermore, a :great many, particularly among those who were in temporary vows, left the congregation. Perhaps they were still in the process of being integrated in the congregation in a pre-Vatican II mode. Of the many reasons for the mass exodus from religious communities, I think a good many were cultural. Quite a few young women said that, if they could be as holy living as married women with chil-dren as they could as celibates in community, there was no reason to remain as sisters. The sexual revolution implied that one could not be a whole person without genital experiences. Some sisters, particularly those working directly with the poor, found that their primary community was one, other than the ClaMs. Some who left were those who had been dissatisfied for years. On the other hand, Review for Religious some were sisters who had worked most diligently and effectively for the changes. Some were unable to identify with a patriarchal church. Without a doubt all of us made mistakes. It might have been better to have informed our public about proposed changes, but we were intent on our internal study. In any case, I doubt if the pub-lic would have approved of the changes if we had asked them beforehand. The Sisters of the Humility of Mary moved some-what faster than other communities at this time of. change. As I watched communities that made the changes later, I used to think that I could be a consultant, telling them what to avoid. However, all of us had to learn from our own mistakes even though many of them were similar. Not everyone was mature enough to take per-sonal responsibility. The changes in discipline, clothes, works, and so on were only the expressions of a hope for the inner renewal of each sister and of the entire congregation. Celibacy in community has replaced obedience as the defining vow for sisters. Since the early 1970s, associates have expanded the search and service aspects of com-munity. Among the sisters, responsibility for private prayer some-times meant temporary abandonment of prayer altogether. Inner renewal is difficult to assess and is known only to God and the sister. Bishops witl~ whom CHMs worked were supportive during this time. One said that he did not understand everything that we did, but trusted us. On one occasion he commented, "I would never presume to tell a woman what to wear." Today we are an older and wiser congregation. The renewal set in motion in the 1960s has, I think, resulted in return to the spirit of our founders and a steady love for God, people, and the universe. Father Richard Hill 'SJ died on 29 January 2000 in the Jesuit infirfna~ at,Los' Gatos,~ Cahfornia: " 'Fathei" ~li ~sed~tor for c~nonical ~ounsel from Janua~ 1985 to July.19~)0. ~ : Let us remember him in burp~ay~ers~ July-August 2000 w. HENRY KEN-NEY Finding God's Willm A Maneuver finding God My title, "Finding God's Will," purposely suggests a prior search. In an age when some prefer to think of God as havin~ no specific will for individuals, but only a general wish for us to use our freedom well, the whole concept of seeking and finding God's will seems out of place. But I do not think it is. The theological assumptions behind searching for and finding God's will are, I believe, not of this age. They have appeared in the spirituality of countless saints, and espe-cially in those who lived in the last four or five hundred years. My large debt to an acknowledged master of search-ing for and finding God's will, St. Ignatius of Loyola, I gladly own. I am also quite indebted to dozens of pray-ers (my preferred term for directees) whom I have accom-panied on many a search and in many a finding. So my basic assumption is: God has a specific will which can be searched for and found--in large, medium, and lesser matters. A very good case, I believe, can be made that this is the prevailing assumption of the Bible and that it shines forth especially in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. For instance, along with many scripture scholars, I see Jesus' desert temptations as part W. Henry Kenney SJ, founder of the Bluegrass Spirituality Center in Lexington, Kentucky, is now a free-lance "prayer coach." His address is 153 Barr Street; Lexington, Kentucky 40507. Review for Religious of his search for the Father's will on how to undertake and exer-cise his public ministry. Near the end of his life, we see Jesus in Gethsemane struggling to get beyond his aversion to an igno-minious death ~and coming finally to embrace his Father's will peacefully and courageously. Presuppositions for Fruitful Searching My first presupposition is that searching for and finding God's will is a gift, and God's best gifts most often come in answer to persistent prayer. Hence, the guiding light for a searcher is: Beg, beg, beg. That repeats in short compass the longest teaching of Jesus on prayer: keep on knocking, seeking, begging for God to reveal their (Father, Son, and Spirit) will (Lk 11:1-13). For those who are settled into a significant prayer life, recipients of one of its gifts--a strong desire to know God's will--persistent begging for the revelation of God's will strikes them as quite right. To be given the knowledge of God's will and the courage and joy to do it is perceived by such pray-ers as a most precious gift coming from God's Spirit, the gift. Happy are they who experience their begging turned into receiving--the knowledge and love of God's s, pecific will for them. The second presupposition is that the principal impediment to finding God's will is my own will, often enough so attached to X or so averted from Y that it is very difficult or nearly impossi-ble for Y to be revealed as God's will. Spirituality writers used to call that state "attachment" or "lack of indifference." Currently that state is described as insufficient openness to God's will or lack of spiritual freedom. If I am mildly or strongly attached to getting married or averse to becoming a priest or religious, it is more difficult for me to recognize that God's wisdom and plea-sure are calling me to the priesthood or religious life. When there is very strong aversion or attachment, it is nearly impossi-ble to know and accept God's willing the opposite of our own wills. Let us state this positively. A necessary condition for our finding God's will is our possession of indifference, detachment, real openness to God's will--spiritual freedom. St. Ignatius of Loyola's Spiritual Exercises (§157) supplies a soul-testing remedy for such "inordinate attachments": When we feel an attachment opposed to X [Ignatius instances actual poverty] . it will be very helpful in order ~ly-.4ug~st 2000 Kenney ¯ Finding God's Will to overcome the inordinate attachment, even though cor-rupt na(ure rebel against it, to beg our Lord. to choose us to serve him in X. We should insist that we desire it, we should beg for it, plead for it, provided, of course, that it be for the service and praise of the Divine Goodness. (Puhl translation) With some discomfort I own that I have seldom suggested that a praying person follow §157's recommendation. However, from directing pray-ers (and from my own seeking of God's will) I have happened on to a maneuver that achieves, almost by indirection, what §157 seeks straight on. The third (and, for some, shocking) presupposition is this: God's will is usually revealed not by words or images, but by feel-ings: feelings of peace, of increased or continuing peace (called consolation), or feelings of diminished peace, of distancing (called desolation). Novice pray-ers have usually not had enough prayer and life experience of consolation and desolation for those feel-ings to be without the assistance of a spiritual guide--true instru-ments for revealing God's will to themselves. Conditions for Finding and Choosing God's Will Here are four necessary conditions for finding God's will: The first is spiritual freedom or openness. Being reasonably "at balance" is necessary for being really open to God's alternatives. How cru-cial this is can be seen in Ignatius's Exercises, in the extensive instructions and reflections given to help a praying person come to a reasonable level of spiritual freedom. The second is homework. Suffic-ient investigation of the par-ticulars of the available options (who, what, where, when, for how long, at what cost, and so forth) is absolutely necessary. Some per-sonality types want to rush into choosing before they have done their homework, or done it well enough. Pray-ers will often have discerned, in the first place, whether to commit themselves to an in-depth investigation of the alternatives, that is, the pros and cons of each. The third is kairos. There is a kairos, an appropriate time, for the discerning process. Some times are inappropriate, for example, wanting to know if I should accept a job offer before I am offered the job. That is clearly quite different from discerning on whether I should commit myself to investigate some job possibilities or to Review for Religious make some applications. Further, for those given .to control, there is often the temptation to discern alternatives--to have closure-- long before there is reasonable need for a decision. A help in the searching process is to fix the actual date wl~en a decision is needed. Then the discerner can assign a reasonable number of days for discernment before the due date. The fourth is a discernment companion. If a pray-er is leaning to one alternative and strongly dislikes the other, the aid of a dis-cernment companion is usually essential. The companion can help the praying persons to follow the process correcdy and thereby get beyond their subjectivity. Novice discerners with strong attach-ments are astonishingly adept at fouling up the discernment pro-cess. A person who read this article in manuscript form was dumbfounded to find in it a finger pointing out an inclination to subvert true discernment of a touchy personal decision. Even mature pray-ers, at least in their earlier searchings for God's will, usually have need of human help to discern and interpret patterns of consolation or desolation in response to their continued search-ing for the Lord's will. There would, then, be great risk if non-pray- ers or novice pray-ers attempted such formal discernment without a discernment companion, and even greater risk in the maneuver suggested below. The~, would too likely get into magic, divination, or self-deception. A ManeuvermOne Way of Searching for God's Will Central to the maneuver is repeatedly asking a loaded question of the Lord in the middle of prayer. I call it "popping the ques-tion." Unfortunately, there are several gloriously wrgng ways of popping the question. First is popping an unloaded question, such as, "Lord, do you want me to marry Susie?" That sounds quite sensible. What is so unproductive about this Way of phrasing the question is that it demands a vocal answer: "Yes" or "No." The Lord, however, is not in the habit of giving such answers. Not a few pray-ers continue to be scandalized that the Lord's preferred way of communicating "answers" to us is through our emotions, through consolations and desolations. A second wrong way of popping the question is to pop a ques-tion that is loaded towards the alternative the pray-er wants. This, unsurprisingly, greatly muddies the spiritual waters; self-gener-ated "peace" tends to obscure any subtle message from God. If I j~ly-August 2000 Kenney ¯ Finding God's Will greatly desire quitting my job and I keep asking, ".Lord, you want me to quit my job, don't you?" my strong emotional bias will give me so much'comfort that a contrary response from the Lord will likely be blocked out. Third, pray-ers will often fudge the process by alternately popping questions loaded against and loaded for themselves. Once again, muddied waters will result. A right way to phrase discernment questions is to use a loaded question consistently, a question loaded against my inclination or aversion and thereby loaded in God's favor. For a young or not-so-young woman attached to her single lifestyle, the loaded phras-ing of "Lord, you want me to marry Stan, don't you?" will cause disturbance, negative feelings, the first several times she pops it. These initial affective responses will likely prove untypical of responses later on, but she needs to experience them now. I say this because I have quite often seen sincere discerners surrepti-tiously (without knowing it themselves!) try to bypass such dis-comfort and get approval of the alternative they want either by asking an unloaded question or by unconsciously switching to the loaded question that favors their own present inclination: "Lord, you don't want me to marry Stan, do you?" Pray-ers that "lean" toward a preference of theirs need to be assured more than once that it is just as easy for the Lord to "answer" no to a loaded question as to answeryes. Understandably, many "leaning" pray-ersfeel that the question is too loaded against themselves for the Lord to be able to say no. In phi'asing discern-ment questions, it has gradually and experientially ~ome clear to me that it is much better to formulate the questions positively. For example, if a pray-er pops "Lord, you don't want me accept this job offer, do you?" the negative tends to muddy the process. The right-ness of the positively phrased question, "Lord, you want me to con-tinue in my present job, don't you?" can be sensed by pray-ers who lean toward accepting a new job. They experience more dis-comfort with positive questions than with negative ones. When to pop? I ask discernment questions of the Lord only, only, only when I am prayerful, that is, when I am at peace and have some sense of being with the Lord. Never do I ask when I am even a little unpeaceful or lack some real sense of being with the Lord. Praying persons, indeed, are frequently tempted to do this. If they yield, it is like asking the wall and expecting a revela-tory response within themselves as a reaction to the wall's action! Review for Religious When one is consciously with the Lord, whether in formal prayer or at'liturgy or at another time, a question should usually be popped only once. Popping the same question several times in the same ,prayer experience usually comes from a control drive that tends to commandeer the discernment process. How to pop? When I am in the middle of being connected with the Lord, I pop the question, as it were, eyeball to eyeball. Then I wait a short time, seconds. If I wait longer, I am trying to manipulate the Lord or influence my reactions. After popping I need to notice what happened to my con-nectedness and consolation. Did it remain the same? Did it increase? Was it subtly modified? Often pray-ers say "Nothing happened" after they popped the question. My response is "Something always hap-pens!" If my connectedness and peace remain the same, that is a very revealing, though low-key, response. Hence we need to keep a record of our post-popping reactions so that we may discover a pattern. How often to pop? For a small matter, once usually suffices if there has been a clear enough affective response. For larger mat-ters-- a new job, undertaking a volunteer project or pulling back from one--five, ten, or a dozen times usually give a clear picture. Very large questions--marriage, religiou~ life, another child, major change in employment or lifestyle--may need months of discern-ing. What is always being sought is a clear pattern of responses from multiple poppings. Confirmation. When repeated poppings have yielded a pat-tern that tells us we very probably know God's will in a large or very large matter, it is good to supplement the discernment with a further process that may increase and strengthen our careful cer-tainty. Regarding marriage, the confirming question (in full detail, useful for the first popping) could well be "Lord, I think you have revealed to me that you want me to marry Stan. That is your will, isn't it?" Interpreting patterns. If pray-ers' first discernment efforts involve large or very large issues, I usually say nothing beforehand about htw to interpret their experience. Rather, I tell them they should pop the question "about X times," note carefully what hap- I ask discernment questions of the Lord only, only, only when I am prayerful. July-August 2000 Kenney ¯ Finding God's Will pens to their state of peace while and after popping, and record the experience of each discernment. At our next meeting we look at and interpret the responses together. The interpretation is very simple: The experience of consola-tion confirms the loaded question, whereas a lesser peacefulness or a diminished sense of being with the Lord negates the loaded ques-tion. In the example "Lord, you want me to marry Stan, don't you?" the results of the maneuver may be "muddied" by several years of attachment to a single lifestyle. The first few poppings will probably bring feelings of desolation, coming from pain at the thought of possibly losing certain blessings of the single life. But it is the pattern'of consolations or desolations, derived from many spiritual experiences, that reveals whether the alternative is in harmony or not with God's wisdom and love, and with what is deepest in herself as well. It is worth adding that in using the maneuver people may often experience desolation in new ways. They may sense a sud-den loss of contact with the Lord--no more disturbing than the quiet loss of a telephone connection during a conversation. Or they may sense the onset of a "vacuum" feeling, a severe feeling of emptiness, immediately after popping the question. Such feel-ings are often quite subtle, but are clear instances of desolation nonetheless. Sundry Choices Made by Means of the Maneuver Somehow it seems more appropriate to place this section at the end rather than near the beginning. My hope is that it will give some feel for the variety of discernments. I give some instances of choices that go ~ith the chooser's natural preference as well as againstdt. Understandably, I fictionalize to protect confidential-ity, but give enough details to suggest a "feel" for the shape of dis-cerned choices. First, four examples of big choices: a woman in her thirties who had enjoyed an active lifestyle met a man whom she feared God might want her tO marry and thus have her lifestyle signifi-cantly altered. Hers was a long discernment, spread over a num-ber of months, and she gradually became more open to marriage, especially through the use of "Lord, you want me to marry Stan, don't you?" Postwedding life has proved the fittingness of her def-initely not easy choice. There is a greatly loved child, and she Review for Religious found herself saying, "It's clear to me that I'm growing up now." A man in his early forties, increasingly uncomfortable with his military-connected job, sought first to know if God wanted him to give up his job and seek training and employment in some-thing more oriented towards human service. It was difficult to consider giving up a well-paying job without knowing what the next, step would be. His discernment was eased by his having a substantial amount of savings. In his case the discernment of per-haps five or six months gave him the certainty (and courage) to quit his job. This led to discernment about further education and eventually to a people-centered ministry. A young woman, thirty-two, who came with a strong prayer life and dedication to helping the poor, was not charmed when I asked if she had thought about religious life. "I want to get married and have children." "What if God wants you in religious life?" was a question she did not enjoy. In some-thing like a month of using the loaded ques-tion "Lord, you want me to be a religious, don't you?" she came to much more spiritual freedom for either marriage or religious life. She found herself eager to know God's will clearly, whatever it might be. That desire was fulfilled in another month and a half by a definite vocation to a missionary order. A woman in her forties taught'alternativ~ high school (possi-bly a universal euphemism for teaching students less than sixteen and expelled from regular schools). She heard of the possibility of becoming chief financial officer for a large God's Pantry opera-tion; she was both very qualified and very attracted. When, how-ever, she frequently asking loaded questions about whether God wanted her to continue in her present job, she came up with no clear sense of direction. Then, almost immediately after she was actually offered the CFO job, her prayer was filled with clarity that God wanted her to continue teaching "alternatives"--the very drift of her original popped question. Next are two examples of "medium" choices, but I flinch at such labeling because often the consequences are major. Probably the saddest accompanying I have done was with a man in his for-ties who was in a cult-like abusive relationship. In a discernment "What if God wants you in religious life?" was a question she did not enjoy. .~uly-Aug~st 2000 Kenn~y ¯ Findin~ God's W~ll which was long enough and clear enough, the answer was yes to "You want me to give up my relationship with X, don't you?" The sadness is that the relationship continued with great harm to him-self and to his family. Though I tried to persuade him to get coun-seling, the abuser convinced him that that counselors do the work of the devil. A man in his early fifties is a first-rate high school teacher. He got the idea that it would be good to get a Ph.D., but dis-cernment dictated otherwise. He continued happily and effectively teaching for several years. Because he is very gifted, he was asked to do all sorts of things at school, at church, and elsewhere. Before using formal discernment he was seriously fatiguing himself by undertaking too many projects. He began using a discernment notebook. When asked to do something, he noted it, carefully constructed a question for popping, used it in prayer,and logged the '~results." He says. no a lot more now, and notes the absence of fatigue. Out of the blue a department chair at the university asked him to supervise graduate students doing their summertime practice teaching. Not only did his discernment yield a clear "No," but also an unusual pair of words, "You're enough"--exactly what he needed to hear. He has no need for other and ever new achieve-meats to prove and feel his self-worth. Other Ways of Discernment The maneuver suggested here is one good way of seeking and finding God's will. There are many other ways. Experimentation vs. popping. In several areas of our lives where the prayer discernment process proposed here is not appro-priate, experimentation is a privileged way of finding God's will. It can be used for how long to pray, where and when to pray, what type of prayer is best for one's "daily diet," how much sleep, exer-cise, food, and drink to get, and so forth. Experimentation is not trying X one day, Y another, and Z on the third. Rather, it is try-ing one way five to seven times, then trying another way five to seven times, and afterwards reflecting on our experiences, espe-cially on the quality of our lives during the alternative experi-ments. St. Ignatius Loyola observes: "Now since God our Lord knows our [individual] nature infinitely better [than we do], when we make changes of this kind, [God] often grants each one the grace to understand what is suitable for [us]" (SpEx §89). Review for Religious There is another way that God answers sincere prayer--and, here, prayer to know God's will. My sister, her husband afflicted with Alzheimer's, knew they had to move into some form of assisted living because her heart condition was making her ever less able to care for him. She was more inclined to get care eight hours per day rather than 24-hour care--too pricey, she thought. Her earnest prayer that God reveal Their will was strikingly answered. The next two nights her husband had diarrhea and did not know what the toilet was for. Clearly, day care would not suffice. Another way of discernment is, I think, proposed by St. Ignatius, but unfortunately I cannot document this. This way involves offering the Lord different options as one would present different dishes to an honored guest, waiting to see which' he prefers. I mention, too, the experience of a Baptist minister who, faced with significant choices, would open his Bible to random passages and find in them helpful suggestions towards a particular course of action. He would say, "The Scripture came and grasped me." Summing Up First, the maneuver suggested here for finding God's will in larger and medium discernments centers on popping loaded ques-tions to God in prayer and noticing the pattern of desolations or consolations. By examining the patterns, the pray-er comes to suf-ficient certainty (especially if there is a confirmation process) that God's will has been found. This maneuver has been instrumental for scores of pray-ers in finding the peace of certainty about God's will for themselves even, sometimes, in small matters. The out-comes of decisions arrived at in this manner have been uniformly good (with one exception), and pray-ers have continued secure in their discernments, free from attacks by second thoughts. For persons who approached a decision leaning somewhat or strongly to one alternative, an unplanned and unexpected result of using the maneuver is that repeated poppings of a question loaded against their inclinations brought them--gradually, but more rapidly than I had dared hope--to equanimity about, or even real openness, to the unwanted alternative. With only one excep-tion, those who were led to "tough love" decisions were able to embrace them peacefully and live them energetically. Those who were led by the right use of the maneuver to embrace alternatives July-August 2000 L3-77-- Kenney ¯ Finding God's Will in accord with their initial preferences enioyed the special conso-lation, of knowing they had sought and found not merely their own will, but also God's. Magnificat I want to thank with all my heart the unknown man who, this summer, hacked back and burned the briars and unruly gorse which had covered that singing stream between Boolagh Bog and Bockagh Hill. And I will, because now eye can feast on the smooth black tables of rock down which clear brown water tumbles and bubbles and makes white foam. Ear had always heard the choir under the gorse-and-briar canopy. Body had always sat or stood there, soothed by sound. Now eye and ear heart and bone and soul and tumbling stream are humming their Magn~'cat in unison. Bernadette McCarrick RSM Review for Religious HILARY OTTENSMEYER Consulting Your Inner Wisdom Mnuch of our United States consumer-society mentality vades our quest for spiritual growth. We snatch up the latest acclaimed spiritual authors. We dash off to the latest popu-lar workshops. We try to take in more and more. The effort is laudable, for there is this hunger within us to know more about God's plan for us and to draw nearer to Jesus. All the restless searching, however, ignores the treasure that lies right at our feet. We look everywhere, but we do not see it. As Meister Eckhart wisely put it, "all people have a vintage wine cellar, but they sel-dom drink from it." What I propose here is a stop to all this chas-ing about and an invitation to look into ourselves at the inner wisdom that is already ours. We have access to it. Where the Treasure Lies Have you .ever noticed how easily we slip into states of total absorption, into trancelike states? I imply nothing "spooky" here. This is simply the way our minds work on certain tasks. In that state of absorption, of inner searching, we step out of time, away from the settings around us. We become so focused on a single idea that no other thought, no other emotion, intrudes. People who use their mind in this way experience vivid imagery and feel overall such bodily responses as muscle tension and sometimes Hilary Ottensmeyer OSB last wrote for us in our January-February 1997 issue. His address remains 1414 Southern Avenue; Beech Grove, Indiana 46107. July-August 2000 Ottensmeyer ¯ Consulting Your Inner Wisdom heightened blood pressure. Common occurrences: driving right past your own home, not hearing what people say and asking them to repeat, and not noticing that the phone is ringing insis-tently. Sometimes, by single-minded concentration on a prob-lem, we may come up with a "Eureka!" experience and have a solution. Most of the time, however, I suspect we choose this kind of intensive focus when someone's word or action has wounded us, and we retreat inwardly to chew on the bitter rind of our hurt pride. My suggestion here is that the mind's same powerful ability to focus, its intensity and bright-point targeting, can be used voluntarily in prayer--only this time the focus is on the inner wisdom we all possess through the grace of baptism and indeed all the sacraments and through our enriching experiences of striv-ing to be faithful followers of Jesus and reflective readers of the Gospels. In this way of prayer, we ask the Spirit of Jesus to guide and enlighten us. When we Christians go into the center of our minds and hearts, it is the indwelling Spirit who greets us there. There we hear the echoes of the voice of Jesus and of all the good people who have been examples of faith and good conduct for us. That central core of ourselves is the inner wisdom of which I speak. It is there, and it is available. But let me make a few distinctions. Some Clarifications I am not referring here to centering prayer or at least to what I understand by centering prayer. To quote Father Thomas Keating in his excellent book Open Mind, Open Heart: "A thought in the context of [centering prayer] is any perception that appears on the inner screen of consciousness. This could be an emotion, an image, a memory, a plan, a noise from outside, a feeling of peace, or even a spiritual communication. In other words, anything what-soever that registers on the inner screen of consciousness is a 'thought.' The method consists of letting go. of every thought dur-ing the time of prayer, even the most devout thoughts." ~ What I am referring to here about consulting your inner wisdom probably comes close to what Keating refers to, and dis-misses, as self reflection?. This, Keating says, is to be got over in order to reach pure cont.emplation. My own proposal is a delib-eratefocusing of thought as if one were using a magnifying glass to Review for Religious ' direct the beams of the sun to one spot. Such a tactic could pen-etrate steel. The discipline I propose is not behavior modification. That highly effective psychological tactic involves visioning an unde-sirable behavior of mine, such as becoming angry with the choir habits of a fellow religious, and then seeing myself calmly allow that person to do his or her own thing without my usual emo-tional upset. Consulting our inner wisdom means having in mind a specific goal (more on this later), then cleansing our mind of external dis-tractions by some relaxation exercise, and, in that calm and focused meditative state, inviting the Lord (or some other spiritual counselor) to help us understand and move towards atti-tudes and behaviors more consonant Jesus, unlike ourselves, with the obedient love with which a allowed himself to Christian wants to identify. This differ-entiates consulting our inner wisdom be angry only.when from simple behavior modification because it sees the change in ourselves the Father's honor and as inspired by the example of Jesus and glory were attacked. not simply as a personal social or emo-tional adjustment, helpful though that might be. Take, for instance, the ques-tion of boundaries. We are all aware how careful we are to pro-tect the spiritual frontiers of our Christan, Jesus-inspired integrity. Anger, rooted in pride, is one such protection effort. Jesus, however, unlike ourselves, allowed himself to be angry only when the Father's honor and glory were attacked. See, for example, the cleansing of the temple or the "woes" in Matthew's Gospel. At all other times, personal attacks did not seem to move him emotionally. When we honestly consult our inner wisdom, we may note boundaries of ours that we fail to protect enough. We may fail to caution ourselves regarding the sight or memory of a sexually attractive person. We may carelessly allow ourselves to recollect wounding words or actions that, even years later, cause us to tighten our fists or clench our jaws. Reflecting upon our inner wisdom, we can suspect or see the dangers of these reactions and thereby find ourselves protected against deep tenacities and inva-sive roots. "When you bury hate in your heart, you bury it alive" is a piece of liberating wisdom worth remembering. ~,~-~-~L~ ~ July-August 2000 Ottensmeyer ¯ Consulting Your Inner Wisdom Some Helpful Preliminary Disdplines Any relaxation exercise that suits our personality may be used to induce a meditative state. Relaxing the muscles from the head on down throughout the body is a common practice. The point is to pull the mind away from the leaping about that characterizes our ordinary mental activity. As one Eastern mystic put it, "the mind is like a tree full of chattering monkeys." Another approach, count-ing backward from thirty, demands just enough concentration to clear the mind of other thoughts. Paying attention to your breath-ing also slows down the inner agitation. The current enthusiastic practice of walking a labyrinth serves the same purpose--certainly this was the reason why many European cathedrals have a labyrinth carved in the floor near the entrance. Working through a series of yoga exercises, too, or focusing on a mantra helps some achieve the same end. Before entering into such a disciplinary exercise, it is impor-tant to have a goal in mind: "Jesus, I want to go into the place where you live in me, sit with you there, and talk about this com-pulsion to anger, to judgment, that spurts up so frequently, so involuntarily within me. Open to me your way of living with anger, for you felt it too. Help me draw on the many times I have given in, and the times I have restrained myself and 'stuffed' down my anger, only to see it blaze up in a trivial context once again, a con-text that was most inappropriate. Lord, I want freedom--to the degree my frail humanity allows--freedom from this compulsion. Lord, I am admonished by the wisdom you,.and others, have taught me. I have seen people mellow with the years, and others grow sour. Seeing someone act harshly, hearing another cut into someone's reputation, I react angrily at once, from the simple proud conviction that 'I wouldn't do it that way!' And I quickly find myself locked emotionally and mentally into scathing criticism." Jesus gently points out to us--after we wait silently for a while--that the only times he became angry were when the Father was attacked, ignored, impugned in some way. Our petty and obsessive responses melt before his gentle encouragement. Sometimes when we journey inwardly we become more acutely aware how often we fall into stubborn, addictive behaviors about which we feel helpless. Who is this "other" person who shows up within me, powerful, demanding, whom I watch with anguish as if it were a stranger? We have tried therapy, prescription drugs, behavior modification. The one.thing lacking to these tactics-- Review for Religious and I do not deny their value--is this: They rarely draw on that inner wisdom, that Jesus-centered encounter, where true change can take place. For instance, Alcoholics Anonymous has helped innumerable people, and indeed has an important spiritual com-ponent, namely, surrender to a Higher Power. But surrender in faith is only a beginning. There needs to be private self-ques-tioning that draws on the inner wisdom with which we are graced. Wl~en an addictive, destructive pattern has invaded our psyche so that a part of our life has become disconnected from the normal flow of life, we need to reach into the deepest resources within us: grace, the voice of Jesus, our inner wisdom. Within this intense, highly focused place in our mind, we call on Jesus to walk us through another pattern of behavior. Mental rehearsal is common to many forms of psychother-apy. Seeing yourself in the company of Jesus, however, and con-trasfing sad experiences of the past with "bright angels" of wisdom and true freedom, we choose a different, liberating pattern of action. We establish new boundaries, mentally and visually mov-ing away from the edges of danger. The mental rehearsal itself is now a new behavior that we can draw on when temptation returns. The hand retracts instead of reaching for the bottle, the eyes turn away from the stimulus to lust (maybe "custody of the eyes" was not just a life-depriving tactic after all!), the serving spoon is put down after one moderate portion. Psychologists continue to study how the mind visualizes behaviors and procedures. Imagination and imagery can be used in very sophisticated ways. In a recent New Yorker article, Malcolm Gladwell asks: "What do Wayne Gretzsky, Yo-Yo Ma, and a brain surgeon named Charlie Wilson have in common?" The answer: their practice of careful visualization before any action is taken. These men are virtuosi, and they exercise their great technical skills internally first. They mentally see an action through to the end before they perform it externally. Charlie Wilson, during his morning run, looks at each of the day's operations in his head, visualizing the entire procedure and its potential outcome. He says, "When I was actually doing the operation, it was as if I were doing it for the second time." Once, after finishing an operation, .taking off his gloves, and heading off down the hall, he suddenly realized that "the tape he had been playing in his head didn't match the operation that had unfolded before his eyes. 'I was correlating everything--what I saw, what I ~dy-August 2000 expected, what the X rays said. And I realized that I had not pur-sued one particular thing. So I turned around, scrubbed, and went back in, and, sure enough, there was a little remnant of tumor that was just around the corner. It would have been a disaster.''3 Consulting our inner wisdom involves a similar attention to detail. The skills to visualize here, however, are not the motor skills, but rather the spiritual skills we have accumulated over the years through prayer, scriptural study, and the counsels of wise Christians in spiritual reading and in the living church. It is all there inside, waiting to be drawn on like a rich bank account. Adding to the Inner Wisdom We sometimes feel empty, wandering endlessly in our private deserts. We feel locked into decades-old mental labyrinths. Our motivation flags. Dorothy Day once told a reluctant young friend that God "makes us understand this distaste, this recoil from reli-gion. The lethargy comes from a. consciousness of the immanence of the struggle, the fact that it is unceasing and will go on to death, and we often think that sheer thoughtless paganism would be a relief. ''~ But deep within we accept what the great John Cardinal Newman wrote: "Prayer is to the spiritual life what the beating of the pulse and the drawing of the breath are to the life of the body. It would be as absurd to suppose that life could last when the body was cold and motionless and senseless, as to call a soul alive which does not pray. The state or habit the spiritual life exerts itself consists in the continual activity of prayer.''5 Our task consists in never giving up on the faithful practice of prayer. How often we have heard that! And each morning we awake with renewed intention. But then we shoot through the day like a bullet, "busy about many things"--good things, too. When we finally bring ourselves to our inner wisdom, finally sit at the feet of Jesus just for a while, it seems we hear him say: "Until you are convinced that prayer is the best use of your time, you will not find time for prayer." And the sentence haunts us, but also frees us now for the best use of our time. It is as though a key has turned in a lock. Sometime~ it is helpful to have a favorite saint join you in that central place of peace. St. Joseph, who never ~ays a word in the Gospels, is delighted when you join him for an evening and sit with him on a bench just outside the little house in Nazareth. Review for Religious Perhaps Mary will come out, too, and rest awhile as the sun sets behind the Galilean hills. There is a beautiful view from Nazareth over towards the Roman city of Sepphoris, and even beyond to-the great sea. They will talk to you if you question them. When Problems Arise, When Hopes Surface When we go with Jesus into th~ place of our inner wisdom, we make starding discoveries. We may find problems we did not know we have. We are likely to become aware of wasteful, regrettable ways that our head and heart have been capable of, but cannot well afford. There are innumerable clamorous voices. There is the insistent voice of the Problem Solver. He wor-ries relentlessl~ about the future. The muscles around his eyes are taut because he is always peering ahead, looking for solutions there in the distance. He causes headaches and upset stomachs. The expectations of others are his con-stant concern as he tries to weigh a chance remark, interpret a fleeting facial expression. There is no center from which he acts. Life is one wrenching effort to get control of things and people. His bulky appointment calendar, like Marley's chain, gives him away. Another recognizable voice inside us is the Self-Accuser. Her skin gets hot, her hands become fists, as she recalls awkward words and clumsy gestures from years past. She plays memory tapes over and over in our head. No one is more persistent in tearing us down than she is: "You have been in religious life for fifty years now, but that is no proof that God loves you." Nothing so saddens, so pierces the heart like this cry, one we have all heard many times. The Self-Accuser has only to stop talking and thus give,us a quiet moment to lift our eyes to the cross or listen to Jesus' many words of love for us, or to hear Yahweh's endear-ments in the words of prophets and psalmists. But, beaten down by the Self-Accuser's words or shrinking from her grimaces, hear-ing we do not hear, seeing we do not see--because the Self- Accuser in us relendessly shares her deafness and blindness with us, and we chronically allow it. Sometimes it is helpful to have a favorite saint join you in that central place of peace. j~uly-Aug~tst 2000 There are other inner voices. Perhaps most persistent is the voice of the Lonely One. It does not let us forget that we long to love and be loved, to hold and be held, to whisper and be whis-pered to, to beclose to Another and not feel so alone. Sometimes we do feel consoled and calmed. The lonely restlessness at the center of our being, however, can never be completely quieted; perhaps it is not meant to feel so much peace. It is a reminder of" our desire for our heavenly home. How poignantly John of the Cross describes this quest for the Beloved in his Spiritual Canticle: "Where have you hidden, Beloved, and left me moaning?" In the hollow center of the soul where inner wisdom and grace live, there also dwells this urgent longing, We carry this wound in our heart. We become aware of it sometimes with hopeful anticipation, some-times with fear. In time, achieving greater integrity--the union between what we appear outwardly to others and what we know inwardly to be true--may calm us to some degree. Disturbing voices within us are balanced by "bright angels" calling us to. greater integrity. We long for inner peace, but only sometimes, with our inner wisdom, do we experience a joyous hope for it. Letting Memory remind us "of those splendid moments when we were touched by God, when we felt the reality of God deeply, is inner wisdom. Those blessed recollections remain when thought and emotions became as one with.an intensity that seems like an embrace. These are wells to which we can return time and again. Another support is Imagination: gathering together the way-ward impulses of our heart, humbly putting them before Jesus as the woman caught in adultery did during her brief moments with him after all the others had gone. And she heard him say, "Neither do I condemn you" (Jn 8:11). We long to hear such healing words, words of forgiveness that bring an offer of reconciliation. Unlike her, we may still hold out, failing to hear those words because of our pride and shame. St. Paul insists: "We entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God" (2 Co 5:20). The repetition of per-sonally inspiring gospel texts (we all have our own)--in a mantra-like fashion, but more intentionally, until they infuse the heart--evokes and strengthens the inner wisdom. "The Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name" (Jn 15:16). "You did not choose me, but I chose you" (Jn 15:16). Allowing such words to soothe the heart steadies our resolve. As the Curg d'Ambricourt affirmed on his deathbed in Georges Bernanos's novel The Diary of a Country Priest: "All is grace." l~eview for Religious Jesus the Center of Our Being It helps to anchor our resolve in one basic' truth: Jesus is the center of our being, our very existence. Until we can accept that, we cringe when we hear Jesus uttering those breathtaking demands to his disciples: "Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up h.is cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it" (Mt 10:37-39). Who does this Jesus think he is, pushing into our lives and taking them over? Presuming on our most instinctive loyalties! Preempting our deepest affections! Usurping our natural ties to father, mother, son, and daughter! Boldly proclaiming himself the most important person in our lives! This cross which he demands we take up daily disorients our whole lives, doesn't it? These demands are one way of forcing us to admit quite simply--and we are dazed by the thought--that we are not the center of our own life. Everything in our consumer culture tries to convince us that we are. If we can swallow and digest that one truth, many of the pieces in this vast jigsaw puzzle of our lives would fit together wonderfully. When we realize that Jesus made us the center of his life within his obedient love for his Father--these demands become acceptable, even desirable. My favorite image of intimacy with Jesus comes from John's Gospel. The beloved disciple, while re.clining at table on that unforget-table evening, leans back onto the breast of Jesus. Consulting the inner wisdom that God has put into our hearts, we know we are invited to do the same. Do we have the courage, the love, to do so? Notes ~ Thomas Keating, Open Mind, Opoz Heart (New York: Amity House, 1986), p. 35. 2 Keating, Open Mind, p. 112. 3 Malcolm Gladwell, "The Physical Genius," New Yorker, 2 August 1999, p. 63. 4 Dorothy Day, "Letter to an Agnostic," America (90th Anniversary Issue) 180, no. 13 (17 April 1999): 8. s Quoted in Saint Meinrad Archabbey's Community Bulletin, 4 July 1999, p. 2. ~dy-August 2000 EILEEN E O'HEA Tell Them, Tell the New Members. religious vocations A Mission is clear. That is, most if not all religious insti-tutes have spent days, weeks, months on mission state-ments for their communities. And they have done this bravely, wisely, prayerfully. These statements, coming from their lived experience as dedicated men and women, represent not only what they are doing now but also what they hope to do, or do better, or do more of. Concern for the poor, the marginalized, the disenfran-chised is a substantial part of communities' commitment to do whatever they can to facilitate the reign of God here on earth. A sister in my community, Elaine, one we all agree is charismatic in the true sense of the word, has been riding the chartered bus from New York City to the Bedford Hills Women's Correctional Facility every other Sunday. The bus is filled with inner-city children going to see their mothers. It is a two-hour ride. Elaine's con-cern for the women in prison and for their continuing relationship with their children has made these Sunday visits possible. For more than thirty years Elaine has worked in what she calls "the slammer." Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ, a decade-long contributor to our pages, had her third book published in May: In Wisdom's Kitchen: The Process of Spiritual Direction (Continuum). Her address is still 1750 Marion Street, #8; Roseville, Minnesota 55113. Review for Religiotts "The slammer" is an accurate term because, as Elaine enters, at least ten gates must open and slam shut before she gets to the room where she works within the razor-wired enclosure of this maximum-security prison. The room is now called The Children's Center. Elaine's job has been to do whatever she can to help the women keep in touch with their children. This article will not attempt to describe all that is involved in Elaine's ministry in prison, or to describe the eight convents (called Providence Houses) that she and others have reopened so that women leaving prison have a place to live and a chance to begin again in a new environment. Their children come too, of course. The sisters liv-ing in these houses with the women and children are quite clear about the mission-and-ministry statements of their congregation, the Sisters of St. Joseph of Brentwood, New York. Stories like Elaine's (or Eugene's, as the case may be) are true of individuals or groups in many communities--and are attract-ing new members. "Come and see," we say. Come, join us in try-ing to make a better world. Come, help to bring about systemic change. Every year a few do come. They are searching; they seek something worthwhile to give their life to. They want to make a difference, and they want to be with others, with communities that are facilitating the reign of God on this earth. For some new members, religious life seems to work for a while but then seems to be "not enough," not enough of what they looked for or hoped to find. "What do you get for doing this?" they ask, or "Why stay?" after the excitement of discovery fades; "I can do this without a vowed life of poverty, chastity, and obedience." And they are right; they can. Many women and men, ¯ married or partnered, hold the same values and are involved in the same types of ministry. When we invite new members into this little piece of the vine-yard, into participating with us in mission and ministry, we often forget a simple truth that might literally be underneath their skin. New members seem to be looking for three things: ° a lived expe-rience of gospel values through the mission and ministry of the community; ¯ intimacy, which is part of the friendship found within community; ° and intimacy with the Divine. It is this third one I am concerned about. Elaine and the Providence House sisters are, without a doubt, prayerful, God-centered, holy women. They reflect on the day's Scriptures together, talk about the meaning of the texts for their July-August 2000 O'Hea ¯ Tell Them, Tell the Nay Members. personal life and for their ministry, and they are committed to some personal prayer each day, usually some form of contempla-tive prayer. If we put prayer, community life, and ministry together, then why is it "not enough"? Admittedly, prayer or Scripture shar-ing sometimes means that those present share their personal strug-gles, philosophies, and theologies and thus can seem too intellectual, or too focused on the external ministerial needs, or too routinely self-focused. Most times, however, it is a heartfelt response to divine inspiration and the Gospels. Is this not "enough"? Perhaps not. Maybe those great mentors like Elaine and others are not sharing quite enough with the new member. We seem to do well at providing and accompanying new mem-bers in meaningful ministry. We also share community and friend- ~hip withthem, but we know, and hope they know, that we cannot supply what did not happen for them in their families of origin. Alice Miller, a leading psychologist of our time, states: "What you didn't get at age two, you will never get." Why? Not because we will not know love and affirmation, but because we will not know them as a two-year-old needed to know them. Intimacy and love is often an issue for new members, and they must work hard at discerning what they are meant to find within the community and what they must find within themselves. Frequently they feel there is not enough intimacy because deep friendships seem hard to find among the members. This is so because most of the members are much older, or are already bonded in relationships that have endured for years, or because the older members are so involved in their ministry that they do not have the time or the energy for anyone else. We probably will never resolve successfully all that is involved in the struggle for intimacy and love within religious communities, but we can do better. What remains after considering prayer, community life, and ministry is this: What do we get for doing all this? What has kept Elaine trudging up to the slammer each day for thirty years? What makes h6r such a holy woman? Is there some experience so sus-taining that makes it worth everything? Is it possible that you, Elaine, have experienced being grasped by Divine Love? Is there something that happens, intimacy with the Divine, that holds you, sustains you, makes you the very delightful and humorous person we all know? Did you encounter Christ in your ministry to the poor and is this what transformed you? Do you, Elaine, know, really know, intimacy with Divine Love or know you dwell in inef- Review for Religious fable Mystery? And is what you experience available to me, the new member? Can you tell me---if, indeed, it did happen for you-- whether it happened all at once, or gradually through the years, and what kinds of psychological, emotional, and spiritual ups and downs you have gone through? Was there one experience that was more formative for you than any other? Intimacy with Divine Love (and people experience it in a variety of ways) is what the human heart longs for, searches for. Our nature is such that we are all meant to realize union in and with the Divine even though each of us will experience it differ-endy. So, when we invite new members to "come and see," we must tell them what they get. In my novitiate days the sixty-four novices (thirty-two have remained these forty years) were told by a very wise and very Irish mistress of novices that, if we left all, we would receive back a hun-dredfold. Did we? I cannot speak for others, but my guess is that most (maybe not all) would say yes and that they would make the same life choice if they had the opportunity to live it over again. They just never say exactly why they would do this. Intimacy in any human relationship of true love is rarely spoken about in detail. The same is true of intim, acy in and with Divine Love. Mystics write about human and divine love because they break through egoeentricity and are no longer reticent or ashamed to speak of the wonder, the awe, the love they experi-ence. Poets write of human and divine love and tease our spiritual appetite by circling around some pro'found experience. They are like eagles riding the air current, then soaring so high we lose sight of them and what they are expressing. They stir up the embers of our hearts with their hints, but eventually leave us feel-ing tantalized by possibility. I do not think it can be any other way. Relationships of true love are intrinsically mysterious because the experience is beyond words, beyond intellectual constructs. The words of the poet point us to the moon, as the Zen saying goes, but once you see the moon the pointer is no longer neces-sary. In fact, it is an impediment. What remains after considering prayer, community life, and ministry is this: What do we get for doing all this ? July-August 2000 O'Hea ¯ Tell Them, Tell the New Members. What ke~ps us from at least giving hints as poets and lovers do? What can we say to new members if we are not poets? Some, like the poets, will use romantic language to describe their expe-rience of the Divine; others will be more concrete or more tran-scendent in expressing their experience. Recendy, at the end of a mission-and-ministry convocation, someone complained that he seldom heard Jesus referred to throughout the weekend. One of the participants responded by asking, "Is it more important to quote Scripture and refer explic-itly to Jesus or to do what he did and invite people to share the communion of table fellowship with us?" A good question, a great response. It has a familiar ring to many of us. It is the tension between doing works of justice and peace and theologizing about them, and then reflecting on them and integrating them as part of our own personal journey of faith. Simply naming God and Jesus as we talk about our lives and ministry is not what I am referring to. I want "hints" from Elaine and from the remaining thirty-two members of my novitiate. I think the reasons we hesitate to speak about our religious experi-ences are many. We do not all believe the same things about God or Jesus any more, and we do not want to offend, or we are afraid of exposing what is most sacred to us because it might meet with disdain and scoffing, or become the subject of theological combat. And so we are quiet. The pearl of great price is buried. Religious experience is always unique, different with every individual. Two categories, however, help to explicate distinct modes of experience. For those whose religious experience is the esoteric, God is the One beyond all names .and forms and is Mystery. There is nothing to say and nothing to tell because, over their years of spiritual searching, they have discovered this truth: God is ultimately an ineffable Mystery. Some not only take refuge in this discovery, but even collapse into it. They stop searching and ride on their limited knowledge, presuming that what they have discovered is all that can be realized. Consequently, their relationship with ineffable Mystery is rarely spoken of. I think some new members want to know that this experience of ineffable Mystery is not the dead end of the spiritual journey, but a realized source of joy in the one experiencing it; that this connection with the Divine, an experience beyond any human connection, makes a life of celibacy the only choice for them; and that it is this par-ticipation in divine life that impels them to minister to others and Reviev~ for Religious thereby have an experience, however fragile, of equanimity, integrity, wholeness. Esoterics must learn how to share their expe-rience of ineffable Mystery with the new members and admit to them that there is such a thing as the hundredfold. For some others, another type of religious experience is open, one frequently referred to as exoteric. It is the experience of a personal relationship with the

Issue 59.6 of the Review for Religious, 2000. ; NOVEMBER: DECEMBER 2000 ,VOLUME 59 NUMBER 6 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, iVlO 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 subsEription 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 permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. Jew rel,g,ous 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 OSB. Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ Patricia Wittberg SC NOVEMBER DECEMBER 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 6 contents 566 spiritual practice Retrieving the Practice of Silence Donald J. Goergen oP enters us into an appreciation of silence that we might commit ourselves more to its observance. 575 The Dangers of Solitude Kenneth C. Russell, guiding readers through some 12th-century advice to hermits, shows its 2 l st-cenrury relevance to hermits and others as well. 584 A Spiritual Direction Mary Beth Moore SC gazes at, listens to, a few moments of reality and possibility within contemporary sisterly living. 594 a witness response Contemplative Religious Witness: A Redemptoristine Monastery Dennis J. Billy CSSR finds the life of a group of contemplative sisters very much present to his apostolic mission, and happily reflects that the reverse is true as well. 601 AVowed Response to the Postmodern World Andr~ Maureen Soete SSND seeks ways for the vowed life to contribute more vigorously, more effectively, to the alleviation of troubles in our troubled world. Review for Religious 608 examples from the past Mary Ward: Centuries Her Scroll Lawrence F. Barmann sketches the life story of Mary Ward, the saintly English founder of the Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary, as an inspiration for us living in the current ecclesial milieu. 614 627 St. Catherine's Letters: Human Love, Gracious Authority Stan Parmisano OP finds that in style and content the letters of Catherine of Siena (1347-1380) have surprising and challenging and charming relevance for persons living today. Katharine Drexel's Cultural Relevance Now Normandie J. Gaitley SSJ sketches the life of the recently canonized Mother Katharine Drexel SBS (1858-1955), a Philadelphia debutante who used her inheritance to serve Native Americans and African Americans. 633 643 vocation When Vocations Happen by Accident Elizabeth Julian RSM describes with quiet enthusiasm her sense of a flexible small community in New Zealand that fosters acquaintance and has shown itself to foster vocations. Vocational Support Donald Macdonald SMM speaks of the human need of support in one's vocation and of the providential availability of that support if we are alert to its manifold presence. departments 564 Prisms 650 Canonical Counsel: Responsibilities of the Novice Director 656 Book Reviews 666 Indexes to Volume 59 November-December 2000 prisms Whave come to appreciate the rich complexi.ty of the biblical term jubilee, espe-cially as we have looked toward the new millennium. But as we approach the Advent and Christmas seasons of the year 2000, one focus of jubilee stands out. Jubilee implies celebration. Advent and Christmas seasons pro-vide an opportune moment for us to consider what it is that we celebrate. Celebrati6n often means bringing people together, sometimes those dearest to us, and at other times the "crowd" that comes together only for special occasions. Celebration can include elegant banquets or simple fin-ger food. It may suggest a refined cocktail party or a noisy beer-keg-and-pretzels get-together. Celebration can imply long-term planning or it may be a spur-of-the- moment, spontaneous occasion. We celebrate beginnings, like newborn babies and the wedding day; we celebrate completions, like school graduations and retirements. We observe national patriotic days, and we take time for religious festivals. But for all the aspects of a jubilee year of forgiveness, justice, and reconciliation, what is it that we most cele-brate? The biblical notion of jubilee celebrates, above all, our being God's people and our living like God's sons and daughters. This planet called Earth is "home" for us because it is God's home. Our space-age view of our planet Earth has brought home to us how much we all are "stewards," not owners, of God's gift to us. Review for Religious What is striking is how our jubilee celebrations enter us into the Gospel Prodigal Son parable. Whether we more identify with one who hopes to see life as only an arena of personal delights and squanderings or whether we more identify with the other who defines life as a kind of slavery with weighty obligations and grim duties, we realize how much we need a jubilee understanding of life. Both sons, in Jesus' famous parable, understand neither the father who helped bring them into life nor the life which this father wants to share with them. The first son in his self-cen-tered celebrating misses the point of celebration. The second son in his self-defined servitude also misses the idea of celebra-tion. Just as the father in the parable goes out of the way to meet each son, so God continues to break into our life to call us to a reality of biblical jubilee. Advent is our jubilee celebration of our longing and desire to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of our life. Christmas is our jubilee celebration of God's desire and longing to come and play forever among the children of Earth. Advent and Christmas are at the center of our understanding jubilee because both seas~ons emphasize the heart of all our reasons to celebrate: God calls us sons and daughters, and we know the redemptive salvation that Jesus brought, of living in God's home all the days of our life. David L. Fleming SJ thank you for your ~uppor~throughout thi~ pa~t yoar and pray that (~od~rieh o a nd~ abundant iubiloo Advont and ~hri~tma~ Th~ Mitor~ and ,of Revi~ ~orRoligiou~ . " November-December 2000 spiritua practice DONALD J. GOERGEN Retrieving the Practice of Silence Jesus experienced the need for quiet. "In the morn-ing, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed"(Mk 1:35, NRSV). What did he seek there? What did he find? The Book of Psalms is quoted in the New Testament more often than any other book of the Hebrew Bible. What role did the psalms play in the prayer of Jesus? "Be still, and know that I am God" (Ps 46:10). How often in the course of his life did Jesus pray over verses like that, or this: "For God alone my soul waits in silence; from him comes my salvation"? (Ps 62:1). There are few things in human life more important, both personally and communally, than discovering the value of silence. Spirituality and religion are important dimensions of human and social life, and so are silence and stillness. Other civilizations, perhaps more pastoral, more agrarian ones, had greater opportunities for the practice of silence. Our times seem less fortunate in that regard. Yet silence is essential to wholesome living. My purpose in these reflections is to help us appreciate silence more and commit ourselves to practicing it. Donald J. Goergen OP wrote on celibacy for our May- June 1998 issue. His address is Friends of God Dominican Ashram; 720 35th Street; Kenosha, Wisconsin 53140. Review for Religious Worship, Charity, and Silence Which is more important, love of God or love of neighbor? (Mk 12:28-31). It does not take much to realize that this question is falsely posed. Which is more important, inhaling or exhaling, yang or yin? St. Anselm spoke of God as "the Being a greater than which cannot be conceived." Certainly, for one who believes, God alone deserves to be worshiped. Adoration and praise are the only appro-priate responses to God. Although there is nothing in human life more important than love of God, the God of Jesus instructs us that there is something that must precede or accompany it. "So, when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remem-ber that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift" (Mt 5:23- 24). "Those who say 'I love God,' and hate their brothers or sis-ters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen cannot love God whom they have not seen. The commandment we have from him is this: those who love God must love their brothers and sisters also" (1 Jn 4:20-21). As important as worship is, equally important is the practice of charity, love of neighbor, the "works of mercy" (Mr 25:31-46). The revolution in Jesus' teaching was not that he understood love of God, the Shema (Dr 6:4-5), as the core of the Hebrew Scriptures. Almost every practicing and devout Jew understood that to be the great com-mandment. But Jesus' placing love of neighbor (Lv 19:18; Mk 12:31) on a par with love of God, that was revolutionary, and for him that was what true religion is about. For Jesus, the second commandment is not secondary, not second in the sense of less significant. According to Matthew, it is "like" the "great and first" commandment (Mr 22:38-39). Luke (10:27) reports them as really one commandment. True worship or love of God is inseparable from true com-passion or love of neighbor. But what do love of God and love of neighbor, or worship and the works of mercy, have to do with the practice of silence? Abhishiktananda, or Henri Le Saux, the French monk who came to India in 1948 and immersed himself in its reli-gious environment, wrote: Now if something has passed in this long discourse by the way of words, yet beyond words, if you have heard in the words of the Upanishads some echo of what the Spirit has November-Decenlber 2000 Goergen ¯ Retrieving the Practice of Silence certainly whispered in your heart when you sat in contem-plation of the mystery of the Father and the Son, then you will discover by yourselves the secret of what is called the Advaitic or Upanishadic prayer. It can be summed up in one Hebrew phrase of Psalm 65, which Jerome translates: silen-tium tibi laus. Silence is praise for you. Silence in prayer, silence in thanksgiving, prayer, and adoration, silence in meditation, silence inside and outside as the most essential preparation for this stillness of the soul in which alone the Spirit can work at his pleasure.~ The contemplative and interior journey, the love and worship of God, are dependent on silence. But charity or love of neigh-bor depends on silence too. A loving kindness toward our human companions on this earth requires the silent journey inward just as true worship of God requires it. Can there be true love of neigh-bor without confronting the truth about ourselves? Can we expect reconciliation and forgiveness in our world if we ourselves are not yet ready to forgive? If we are to transform our world, we must also be working on becoming transformed ourselves. Social engage-ment requires time apart. Silence is essential if we are to deepen our love for God and our love for our neighbor. Silence, Solitude, and Simplicity What does silence sound like? What does it look like? Are there different kinds of silence? Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earth-quake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. (1 Kg 19:11-13) True silence, the inner stillness, the still point, is an achieve-ment to be sought, yet always remains a grace. But it is a grace upon which we must focus our attention. It requires discipline, which does not guarantee interior silence, but rather prepares the way. We must devote time to "the practice of silence," the practice of interior and contemplative prayer, the practice of an awareness that is the fruit of quieting the mind.2 Such "quiet" is not easily obtained in our world today. Not Review for Religious that a busy, technological, urban society is the enemy of silence, but neither is it a friend. Modern social and commercial life cannot prevent the pursuit of silence, but neither do they encourage or value it. Entertainment is a noisy industry. The more channels we have on television, the better. But then they must be filled--with "stuff," whatever it be. They compete for attention; thus, the more out-rageous, the more likely the success. The Internet now multiplies ways to distract us from an inner stillness. Not to find television entertaining seems quaint. To see it or the overuse of the Internet as distraction from true entertain-ment, a life with God quietly pursued, is sec-ular heresy. For silence is not the stuff of which modern societies, commerce, or edu-cation are ordinarily made. Not that the media, the schools, the churches, market-places, and businesses are avowed enemies of silence; they are just uneasy with it. We are talking about a disciplined silence that requires resolve. Its close friends are solitude and simplicity. These compan-ions reveal how countercultural true silence really is. Solitude is one of silence's most cherished friends. Yet how difficult it is in our world today to find solitude, to pursue solitude, to practice solitude. We are "driven" away from it. We can hardly face the silence within ourselves. We flee. As Francis Thompson wrote: I fled Him, down the nights and down the days; I fled Him, down the arches of the years; I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears I hid from Him, and under running laughter.3 The running is aided by all the activities of our world, justified by the needs of our world, and rationalized by "This is just our world and that's the way it is." To desire silence we must value solitude. We identify aloneness with loneliness. But, until we are at home with ourselves, we will always be lonely, no matter how busy, how "with it," how much with others we might be. As we know, marriage is no cure for loneliness. Neither is single life. Dietrich Modern social and commercial life cannot prevent the pursuit of silence, but neither do they encourage or value it. November-December 2000 Goergen ¯ Retrieving tbe Practice of Silence Bonhoeffer once cautioned us to be wary of the person who lives with another or in community who cannot be alone, or who lives alone but cannot live in community.4 Sociality and solitude are two sides of the same coin: we can-not find one without the other. Silence lives on solitude. We must find ways to structure it into our lives on a regular basis, like the food we eat. Where can we find that place apart, that space for being alone, and for how long can we keep ourselves there with-out being taken up by distractions~ Where can we go to practice silence? Or how in the midst of activity can we find that cell within? s One of solitude's companions is simplicity of life. Simplicity inside requires simplicity outside. A cluttered, thing-filled, con-sumer- intensive environment is hardly the place in which to prac-tice an awareness that few things in life are important. The world immediately outside myself needs to reflect what I am trying to attain within myself. Simplicity in life is an outward expression of simplicity within. One's "within" and "without" go together. And now we can see more clearly why our current economic world can easily become an enemy of silence. The pursuit of silence eventu-ally becomes a pursuit of simplicity of life--which is a recognizable enemy to a consumer economy, a global and ever expanding mar-ket economy. Not that the market is evil; it is just easy prey to the pretension that it alone is important, the be-all and end-all of human life. The practices of silence, solitude, and simplicity enable us to see the truth about economic pursuits: How inhumane they can be when given priority in life, how grounded in greed they become! Kinds of Silence There are a variety of silences.6 Silence can be either destruc-tive or constructive.7 Destructive silence is refusing to speak when a word is called for, a word of consolation, of affection, of chal-lenge. Destructive silence can be passive aggression, a refusal to participate, a lack of care, a form of punishment, unconscionable noncommunication. But silence as context for an interior journey is positive. Silence as a socia! context is the absence of noise in our imme-diate environment. There are different degrees of environmental silence. A noiseless environment is difficult to find in modern Review for Religious urban settings. One can distinguish rural silences and urban silences. For someone unaccustomed to rural silences, the sound of the cricket or the howl of a coyote can be disturbing. There are sounds to which we have become accustomed and those to which we are not. Familiar sounds need not destroy environmen-tal silence, but can blend with it. There is a silent stillness to the vastness of nature: the sounds and silence of the ocean, the moun-tains, the desert, the plains. Each is a different environment and a different silence. On a windless day, sitting atop one of the mountain peaks of the Sangre de Cristo range near Christ in the Desert Monastery in northern New Mexico, one can hear an almost Human silence absolute environmental silence. Human silence is the presence of nonspeech, call be a silence It is not necessarily noncommunication or non-of solitude, communitarian. Silence itself can communicate abundantly, and it is amazing what can be corn- but it can also be municated without words. Human silence can be a silence of solitude, but it can also be commu- communitarian. nitarian. A solemn silence can prevail in Christian or Buddhist monasteries or a Hindu ashram, in a synagogue, church, or mosque. These settings or "environments" can be sacred space. There are times and places when human speech is out of place or out of season. Human silence can be community silence, but there is also personal silence. An individual person can cultivate silence--by seeking environmental silence, or sacred space, or solitude, but also by the practice of silence: avoiding unnecessary speech, c~eating personal space, the silence of one's own room, withdrawing to "the cell within," lis-tening to music, allowing absorption in art and beauty, acquiring an inner stillness and the practice of meditation. Personal silence itself is not only oriented toward calm, tran-quillity, and an absence of stress, but ultimately toward interior silence, the silencing of the mind, even if this is rare or only momentary. I remember a conversation with a cloistered Dominican nun, who had a doctorate and had been teaching before joining this cloistered contemplative community. When I asked why she had joined the monastery, she replied, "I needed to stop thinking if I was going to start praying." The human being is a reflective being, but also a contemplative being that sometimes needs to move beyond thoughts (mental silence) as well as wordsv-~z-~'~---)-'[-i November-December 2000 Goergen ¯ Retrieving the Practice of Silence (verbal silence). The interior journey is in fact directed toward this deep silence within, this cave of the heart, this still point, this soul of the soul, this human spirit. Spiritual silence is the human spirit at peace, the silence of the spirit in its communion with the Spirit of God, the divine Spirit, the Holy Spirit. This is mystical silence, with its dark nights, its ecstatic joy, its calm recollection, its deep rest. Silence of any sort is most often not constant, but periodic, coming at intervals, having a rhythm of its own. Deep silence, mystical silence, is not an achievement but a grace. Thus one can speak of the grace of silence, a grace that is present in varied ways and at varied levels, exteriorly and interiorly: the prayer of silence, the silent Presence, the Holy Mystery. It is this mystery that we cel-ebrate in liturgy and seek in contemplation. We experience litur-gical silence, a pastoral silence, intimate silences, times and places not to speak, for which words are inappropriate, occasions on which only silence can communicate. Silence can communicate from within a depth beyond words. In community, in friendship, in ministry, and in prayer there must be silence as well as speech. Divine silence is God's very own silence, God's very own self-communication, God's' awesome and incomprehensible transcen-dence, God's overwhelming intimate immanence, God's elusive presence and mysterious absence, God's truth and God's beauty, the Nameless One whose name is Father, Son, and Spirit, the One- Who-Is, the One-Who-Is-With-Us, the silence of being, the sound of ore, the soundlessness of communion, the union of God and humanity, the union of Word and flesh, the triune union, the incor-poration of humanity into the silent triunity of its Creator. There is ultimately no distinction between divine Silence and divine Speech. They are one 'and the same. God's speech is silent, and God's silence speaks. Silence and Theology .The practice of silence is necessary not only for the spiritual journey and to sustain our humanity. It is also essential for doing theology. Theologians are accountable for their theology to their professional peers, to their varied communities of faith, and to society at large for the quality, fidelity, and social implications of their work. They cannot absolve themselves of this threefold responsibility. But the theologian is also accountable to God. One Review for Religious does not stand before the Holy Mystery, the mysterium fascinans et tremendum, without asking the Holy Spirit for courage, guid-ance, and wisdom. In other words, all theology must begin with prayer. It has both a reflective moment and a contemplative moment. It is not an ego project, but a work of the Spirit. Theology cannot be done apart from silence. The practice of silence, of placing oneself in the presence of God, of meditation, of listening, of longing are all part of doing theology. Theology can too easily become words, verbal batdes, polemic, agenda ridden, jargon, rather than revelatory, illuminating, con-nected to life, committed to Truth. This happens when theolo-gians neglect the practice of contemplative silence--which would make them aware of both the inadequacy and the necessity of words for communicating the divine mystery. A theologian needs to be practiced in the art of silence. So does the magisterium in the church need to practice it. "Roma locuta est," the saying goes. But think of the symbolic power in "Roma tacuit." What a wonderful example that could be. Magisterial authority must reflect that we are a learning church as well as a teaching church. Is not part of the crisis over author-ity the ways in which the church exercises its authority? We do not grant authority easily to those who do not listen. Silence gives value to words. Apart from words, silence can be sterile, but apart from silence words lose their power. As Ecclesiastes (3:7) says, "There is a time for keeping silence, a time for speaking." Silence is a work of the Spirit. True silence is ulti-mately prayer. It speaks with authority. It communicates truth. It creates community. It is the voice of the soul, of the human spirit, and of the Holy Spirit. Can we afford to allow its practice to become peripheral in our lives? In The Sleeping Beauty, Ralph Harper points to the value of silence for our world: Each order of experience has its own a.tmosphere. The atmo-sphere of presence, of giving, of wholeness, is silence. We know that serious things have to be done in silence, because we do not have words to measure the immeasurable. In silence people love, pray, listen, compose, paint, write, think, suffer. These experiences are all occasions of giving and receiving, of some encounter with forces that are inex-haustible and independent of us. These are easily distin-guishable from our routines and possessiveness as silence is distinct from noise.8 November-December 2000 Goergen ¯ Retrieving the Practice of Silence Not only nuns and monks, but all of us need to retrieve the art and practice of silence. We need to dip deeply into the silent abyss of self, of God, of God in the self and the self in God, We need to explore the emptiness and the fullness that lie within us. We need silence. Notes 1 Abhishiktananda, "The Upanishads and Advaitic Experience," in The Further Shore (New Delhi: I.S.P.C.K., 1984), p. 117. 2 Buddhist traditions also see a triple relationship: compassion, rooted ¯ in egolessness, which in turn is rooted in mindfulness. These three are intimately connected. See Sogyal Rinpoche, The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying (San Francisco: Harper, 1992), esp. pp. 59-72, 116-122, 188-201. 3 The first lines of "The Hound of Heaven." 4 Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together (New York: Harper and Row, Publishers, 1954), esp. pp. 76~89. "Let him who cannot be alone beware of community. Let him who is not in community beware of being alone. ¯. The mark of solitude is silence, as speech is the mark of community. Silence and speech have the same inner correspondence and difference as do solitude and community. One does not exist without the other. Right speech comes out of silence, and right silence out of speech. Silence does not mean dumbness, as speech does not mean chatter. Dumbness does not create solitude and chatter does not create fellowship" (p. 78). s See Catherine of Siena: The Dialogue, trans. Suzanne Noffke OP (New York: Paulist Press, 1980), on the "cell of self-knowledge," pp. 25, 118, 122, 125, 135, and 158. 6 Theodore Pereira in "Eloquence in Silence, Healing in Stillness," Indian Theological Studies 33 (June 1996): 99-126, has written about different types of silences. 7 "Silence itself is expressed in several ways. We know silences of contempt and of joy, of pain and of pleasure, of consent and of solitude." Jean-Luc Marion, God without Being (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991), pp. 53-54. ~ Ralph Harper, The Sleeping Beauty (London: Harvill Press, 1955), pp. 110-111. The word "men" in the original was changed to "people" to accommodate current usage. Review for Religious KENNETH C. RUSSELL The Dangers of Solitude ~o~e~oe ldi!a nTgheerrse oisf as ololintugd tera. dAitniodn t hoef wwaarrnniinngg sw hoauvlde- bneo th ceormmiets solely from cenobites suspicious of solitaries off doing "their own thing." Religious who have the highest regard for the blessings and joys of the life of aloneness with God have tempered their enthusiasm with cautionary words about the special difficulties the solitary is likely to encounter. Thomas Merton, for example, warns that "sordid difficulties and uncertainties" attend .the life of even interior solitude,l Authors from the first centuries of the church conjure up frightening pictures of the demons who lie in wait for the unsuspecting hermit, while modern writers warn newcomers to the desert that solitude will force them to confront the disturbing image of their true self. The message is clear: more awaits the novice hermit than the beauties of nature and the spiritual delights which ancient and contemporary enthusiasts of the eremitical life tend to emphasize. I suppose that most contemporary solitaries would agree that demons in one guise or another must be wrestled with and that it can, indeed, be a distressing experience to come face to face with the self we usually avoid in a flurry of activity. However, I also suspect that most hermits are somewhat amused by both the modern and the ancient depiction of their lot. They would be only too happy to confess that there are no monsters writhing in the Kenneth C. Russell last wrote for our March-April 2000 issue. His address remains 40 Landry Street, Apt. 1505; Vanier, Ontario; K1L 8K4 Canada. November-December 2000 E5-7-5 Russell ¯ The Dangers of Solitude corners of their huts and that the identity crisis so precious to their contemporaries does not keep them awake nights. What they actually confront, it seems, is a routine cycle of sun and cloud on a prairie stretching clear to the horizon. There are no mountains or valleys to speak of. Their bad days are as unremarkable as their good ones. They struggle against subtle temptations, not spectacular ones. It has always been so. The 12th-century Cistercian Aelred of Rievaulx recognized this in his hard-hitting Letter to a Recluse, addressed to his elderly sister but written with less seasoned solitaries in mind? So did his contemporaries Peter the Venerable and Bernard of Portes, who wrote shorter and less theologically dense letters to male recluses who had asked their advice.3 Twelfth-century recluses lived in circumstances that are quite different from those in which most modern hermits seek solitude. But this does not mean that the letters of Peter and Bernard are merely quaint witnesses to a bygone era. The basics of the eremitical life are constant across the centuries. They are also unaffected by the way in which different solitaries choose to live the eremitical life. Whether the solitary is a recluse, a hermit, or a homeless wanderer like Benedict Joseph Labre does not radically modify the eremitical life. Consequently the letters Peter and Bernard wrote to 12th-century male monastic recluses remain relevant to male and female solitaries of all kinds, even today. Indeed, it seems to me that their practical orientation makes them especially useful. Therefore, I want to focus on the difficulties these authors see arising when the honeymoon period of the eremitical life--which may last a good long time--is finally over. In highlighting some of the minor difficulties which can grow into major problems if not attended to, it is not my intention to present a negative view of the solitary life. It does have dark days; it would not be a human enterprise if it did not. However, in focusing on the gray periods, I am not denying its spells of fine weather. I am merely reiterating the warning uttered down the centuries that people who wander off into the desert on their own had better know what they are about. Peter the Venerable's Letter to Ghislebert Peter the Venerable, the great abbot of Cluny, was, by his own admission, a very busy man. In fact, he shocks us a bit by admitting that he read the letters from a Cluniac recluse named Ghislebert in Review for Religious his choir stall on Holy Saturday. He claims that he had simply not been able to find a moment to read them earlier. Peter may have been rushed, but he nevertheless knew something about the eremitical life. Not only did he himself periodically spend time in solitude, but he had pastoral experience in directing monks who sought a solitary retreat for a limited period or for life. There were actually a large number of hermits living in the woods near Cluny. Peter the Venerable, then, knew what he was talking about when he replied to Ghislebert's request for guidance. The key to Peter's advice is the emphasis he puts on the idea that, as a recluse, Ghislebert has been buried with Christ. We do not know the nature of the liturgical ceremony with which Ghislebert was committed to his cell, but other sources indicate that the idea of being buried with Christ and dead to the world was sometimes dramatically represented by using funeral rites to initiate such enclosure. In any case, Peter emphasizes that, if his effort to live as a recluse is going to succeed, Ghislebert had better be sure that he is indeed dead to the world and the world dead to him. To drive home the point, Peter quotes the desert father Arsenius: "Flee people, be silent, and you will be saved." In short, be what you have set out to be and all will be well. Although we may feel a little ill-at-ease with the medieval idea of the recluse being rather literally buried with Christ, it is obvious that any new solitary needs to make a definitive break with the world and his or her past to get off to a good start. He or she has to be serious about being marginal. But, for all the images of being cut off and buried, the reality is that a living human being goes into the desert. He or she wants to be there, of course, but the spiritual and especially the psychological conditioning to solitude is not achieved by a mere act of will. The hermit, in fact, begins with some interior dividedness. Part of the self has no interest in disappearing. Inevitably the life force will rise up against the isolation and denial of achievement that the solitary life demands. Hermits also soon discover, as the Carthusian Guigo II puts it, that they are a crowd unto themselves. They are, indeed, the doorway through which the world presses into the cell. They may succeed in finding a quiet spot on the sidelines of society, but the Hermits soon discover that they are a crowd unto themselves. November-December 2000 Russell ¯ The Dangers of Solitude internal vacuum created by their withdrawal makes them vulnerable to the imagination's readiness to reassert their right to a place in the world. Since hermits have what we might term a "weak" present, the mind tends to take refuge in either the past or the future. Bernard of Portes will highlight the way in which the past crowds into the hermit's mind. Peter the Venerable puts more emphasis on the daydreams about the future which exploit the hermit's status to draw him away from his solitude. He pictures the monk turned hermit imagining that he feels the tabs of a bishop's miter on the back of his necl~ or fantasizing that he is the wise, holy, and much admired abbot of a large monastic community. This is all nonsense, of course, and surely most beginners are as amused by the tricks the imagination plays as Peter the Venerable is. What is not funny is that these silly thoughts can trouble prayer. It is also true, unfortunately, that small threads can weave themselves into strong ropes. If hermits are not careful, they can convince themselves that they are made for something better than the sorry life of a solitary. A more serious pressure to "return from the dead" and reenter the hustle and bustle of.life, bit by bit, springs from the essential nature of the solitary existence. Hermits have to live without the external momentum that social interaction usually provides. They are not carried along by the excitement of what is going on at their workplace, nor can they look forward to parties or sports events to distract them. Unfortunately, unless solitaries maintain their focus on whatever is the task of the moment, their day-to-day existence will begin to feel dull and wearisome. The obvious way to relieve this lethargy is for the solitary to engage in a small amount of pastoral or counseling activity. This sounds like a psychologically sound idea, especially to modern Christians, who are more than a little suspicious of the way hermits pull away from the good causes "activists" think so important. Peter the Venerable, however, is not so sure. He is afraid that this public ministry will become addictive. Instead of relieving the hermits' boredom so that they can return to the solitary life refreshed, each turn outward makes solitude all the more unbearable and the turn away from it all the easier. What looks like a solution to the pressures of the eremitical regime can destroy a hermit's ability to live the solitary life. "Doing good" can do a hermit in. A second consequence of the turn outward is that the solitaries' Review for Religious availability attracts people who offer two enticing things: prestige and cash. Since the strict eremitical life deprives hermits of the ordinary opportunities to see themselves mirrored in the reaction of others, Peter the Venerable rightly fears that Ghislebert will take the high esteem in which he is held by those he helps as the true measure of his worth. The abbot sees a further danger in the money that the hermit will be offered for his services. With all the good intentions in the world, Ghislebert can easily find himself managing a little charitable fund which will grow, as such things do, until, as Peter puts it, he is putting up buildings and demolishing himself. Peter's point would seem to be that hermits who are not perfectly honest about their motivations can make a place for themselves in the world. They can keep an address in the woods, as it were, and still be part of society. The price they pay, unfortunately, is the abandonment of their original commitment. History offers many examples which confirm that the hardest thing in the world for solitaries is actually to be what they profess to be. Aelred of Rievaulx was very hard on the way in which solitaries drift into outside activities. He sharply admonished them to wake up to the facts of their vocation. "When you are pressured to get involved: Tu sede, tu tace, tu sustine. Sit still, keep quiet, and stick it out! Period! Leave the doing of good deeds to those who .have the responsibility for such tasks." The solitary's fundamental temptation, it seems, is to focus on something other than God. According to Peter, this can be anything from good works to an obsession with health or appearance. "Doing good" can do a hermit in. Bernard of Portes's Letter to Rainald The Carthusian Bernard of Portes agrees with Peter the Venerable that solitaries need to be on guard against the distractions that are likely to entice them away from their fundamental commitment. He is particularly sensitive, however, to the spiritual and psychological repercussions of the hermit's withdrawal from society. He understands very well that the social self will not go lightly into solitude. Though hermits are united to all believers and, indeed, all humanity in their union with Christ in his church, the social self wants to strut its stuff in the midst of the diversions November-December 2000 Russell * The Dangers of Solitude Hermits do not have the social status they enjoyed in the 12th century. of the marketplace. It does not want to be shut away with not much more than God to focus on. Therefore, Bernard warns Rainald that he must expect a spell of bad weather sooner or later. One day he might be hit by a wave of sadness and the next be in a bad mood and irritable. He will find tapes from his past running in his head while he reedits the script of what he said and did. A troupe of lewd thoughts will stage its floor show one day, and lukewarnmess flood in the next. It seems that there is no escape from these inner storms and flat stretches. Indeed, Bernard maintains that hermits go into the desert specifically t6 wrestle with these elements that distract us from God. They are, we might say, the psychological echoes of a hermit's attachment to the world he or she claims to have renounced. Bernard of Portes warns hermits that, because they are no longer carried along by the current of daily life in society, they will be the targets of acedia and sadness. Acedia, a listless psychospiritual condition, weighs so heavily on its victims that some escape from the boredom o'f the here and now into dreams of what has been and might yet be while others slip into the torpor of chronic fatigue. This affliction, which involves a hanging back from the initial vocational commitment and a failure to actualize it in the present moment, "detemporalizes" hermits. It weakens their focus on the here and now and sets them adrift. Therefore they look outward for things to occupy their mind and fill their time. Bernard says it is very important for hermits to give their life a certain self-generated dynamism by moving from one activity to another th~'oughout the day. Oddly enough, this is in accord with the traditional wisdom that the secret of the eremitical life is "Keep it moving." Bernard also emphasizes meditation and advises Rainald to be totally present to the words he is saying when he recites the Office. Bernard, it is quite clear, believes that acedia can be held at bay if a hermit puts his or her mind to it and lives in the present moment. Sadness, however, is another matter. Bernard seems convinced that an occasional period of feeling down is an inescapable feature of the eremitical life. Sadness is, I suppose, a pit into which an Review for Religious individual ill-suited for solitude might tumble, but this does not seem to be what Bernard has in mind. He is describing, not a chronic or pathological condition, but the normal downturns of life--which the hermit feels more intensely because of his or her isolation. On the spiritual level, the alternation of these strong and weak periods is inevitable in view of the ebb and flow of God's grace. If acedia pulls one away from the present, sadness can be said to sink one into it. Sadness is the clouding over of the eternal horizon of hope which draws us forward. Without the attraction of the ultimate goal--which is, remember, the sole dynamic element in a hermit's life--the individual is oppressed by the miseries of the present. For no good reason, anger can well up in the solitary and rail away at the self or other people: "Nothing they do is ever any good, and nothing I try ever works out!" Such slack times call for patience, because, once again, the temptation is to shift attention away from God and the love that is his due. The self, whether proud or inadequate, whether much sought after or neglected, must not become the primary object of the hermit's attention. Application to Modern Hermits Is any of this applicable to modern hermits living in country cabins and cheap city apartments? I think so. Times have certainly changed, but the leisure of the hermit can still go flat, and money remains a worrisome issue. Unlike their 12th-century counterparts, modern hermits do not have to figure out how to channel their excess funds to the poor without attracting a crowd of beggars, but they do have to worry about how to live apart from the world and still earn their keep. Unless they are supported by a religious congregation or order, paying their bills and providing some measure of stability in an unsettled time can be a real preoccupation. Indeed, it can shipwreck their project altogether. Pride, which Peter the Venerable and Bernard of Portes see as a major threat to hermits, would seem to be less of a worry these days. Solitaries are looked up to once again, but the applause is not unanimous. In fact, many people who give their lives to the service of Christ and his poor question the sense of such a calling. Certainly hermits do not have the social status they enjoyed in the 12th century. In any case, while many religious who become November-December 2000 Russell ¯ The Dangers of Solitude With no one else to worry about, they can become obsessed with every ache. solitaries identify themselves as hermits, most lay hermits have no official status of any kind. They live a hidden life which is just that, hidden. The lack of social status does not mean, of course, that hermits are immune to the temptation to take a little secret pride in the uniqueness of their calling. Pride, however, does not seem to be the great danger it was to hermits in the Middle Ages. Certainly relevant today, however, is the emphasis Peter the Venerable and Bernard of Portes put on the need for the hermit to exist in the now. This almost Buddhist focus on being present to the moment is for both of them basic to the eremitical life. Without this absorption in the here and now, distractions press in. The hermit, to borrow a phrase from the world of sports, "loses his or her concentration" on the worship of God in unending prayer. This is a major problem, but, given the restrictions of the solitary life, it manifests itself in small and sometimes silly ways. For example, hermits may get too wrapped up in their work or turn repairs to their dwelling into a full-scale redecorating project. They can become finicky fussbudgets who insist that every item in their cell be lined up just so. Worse yet, with no one else to worry about, they can become obsessed with every ache and sniffle. What are we to make of Peter the Venerable's condemnation of the tendency of hermits to make themselves useful to their fel-low Christians by offering them the fruit, as it were, of their con-templative silence? Must we conclude that he, and Bernard as well, would censure the spiritual direction and parish activities in which some contemporary hermits get involved? Not necessarily. In their letters both authors emphasize--and we must keep in mind that they were writing to recluses, that is, to solitaries who in theory were totally cut off from the world--that the singularity of the eremitical life means that hermits will have to work out what is best for them. Therefore, while Bernard borrows from the cus-toms of the Carthusians to make all kinds of suggestions to Rainald about the details of his life, he realizes that it is up to the hermit to exercise discretion in choosing what suits him. Consequently, we can conclude that, although Peter and Bernard show that it is easy for hermits to delude themselves about why they are rendering this or that occasional service, it is up to them to determine, after Review for Religious taking counsel, what fosters their aloneness with God and what hinders it. I suspect that there are times when novice solitaries, going through a dark period, might welcome the sight of a few demons raising cain in their living room. They might even be glad to summon up the self-absorption required for the drama of a first-class identity crisis. Anything exciting and novel would be a relief. What they have to contend with, however, day in and day out, as Peter and Bernard remind them, is the subtle task of remaining faithful to their original commitment in all kinds of psychological weather. They have much to gain and much to lose. Peter the Venerable and Bernard of Portes, who shared a high regard for the solitary life, warn them, therefore, to take care. Notes ' Thomas Merton, "Notes for a Philosophy of Solitude," in his Disputed Questions (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1960; Noonday Book, 1976), p. 165. 2 A Rule of Life for a Recluse, trans. Mary Paul MacPherson, in The Works of Aelred of Rievaulx, Vol. 1: Treatises, The Pastoral Prayer, Cistercian Fathers Series, no. 2 (Spencer, Massachusetts: Cistercian Publications, 1971). 3 Neither the letter of Peter the Venerable to Ghislebert nor Bernard of Portes's letter to Rainald has, as far as I know, been translated into English. The Latin text and a French translation of Bernard's letter can be found in Lettres des premiers chartreux, Vol. 2, introduction, critical text, French translation, and notes by "un chartreux" (Sources chr~tiennes, no. 274; Paris: Cerf, 1980), pp. 50-79. For the Latin text of Peter's letter, see Giles Constable, The Letters of Peter the Venerable, Vol. 1 (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1967), pp. 27-41. November-December 2000 MARY BETH MOORE A Spiritual Direction Connie drew the heavy drape across the window, noting the ast gray light filtering from the west. She turned on a small lamp on one side of the room and lit the vanilla candle at the other. Immediately its aroma permeated the small space. She selected a Mozart disc from the handful of CDs near the love seat, placed it carefully on the turntable, pressed play, and adjusted the volume so that the maestro's graceful, precise notes were barely audible, as subtle as the candle. She paused, looking slowly to each corner until satisfied by the atmosphere she had created. Free of clutter, the parlor was just large enough for the love seat, chair, and coffee table. She sat down on the chair. Connie never sat until she was satisfied. She was a short, heavy woman and, since it was not easy for her to get out of a chair, she considered the act of getting into it. She had a few moments before her guest arrived, and this time was also planned. The guest or, more precisely, the directee required the kind of attention one must work up to. So she made an effort to appreciate the room for its own sake. She awaited the security these preparations usually brought. She summoned the attitude of inner peace which any directee had a right to expect of her, breathing deeply, ignoring the slight pulse in her legs, ankles, even noting the contradiction between attending to a pleas-ant carnal sensation--the candle--and determinedly shutting out the unpleasant. She made herself breathe. Connie had been a spiritual director for almost twenty years, Mary Beth Moore SC writes from 3496 Jerusalem Avenue; Wantagh, New York 11793. Review for Religious and people liked her. She had talent in this abstruse area, and she knew this because her directees said so. Most of her clients were nuns, participants in a lifestyle whose subtle conflicts she knew as her own, having been a nun now for forty years. Relationships: community, friends, principals, superiors. Even, occasionally, a romantic entanglement. And, of course, the relationship with God. Connie never told them what to do. She listened. She asked ques-tions. She recalled for the searcher his or her own best qualities. (Yes, even the occasional priest or layman found his way to her.) Generosity. Loyalty. Courage. Connie never mi~de these things up. Yes, that was the talent. Seemingly from thin air, she would recall a point the directee had made two months before, or ask precisely the right question. "What must you do to grow in this sit-uation?" The question was perhaps trite, but the answers never were. Stammering or articulate, passionate or cool, the directee usually responded with a perfectly credible plan of action, one whose truthfulness went to the heart of the matter. She had learned to expect the creativity that her directees brought with them. Still, Connie did not consider herself creative. She thought of herself as a modest person, and attributed the results to God's grace. When she looked in the mirror, she saw a face that had always been plain, and was now old. Of course, Connie had not once seen her own brown eyes transformed with the glow of the full attention she gave to the directees. They simply thanked her. She expected nothing more. At the sound of the doorbell, Connie took hold of the chair arms and, giving herself a boost, stood and steadied herself before crossing the short distance to the front door. She was pleasantly nervous for this encounter with her client, and she hurried as much as she could, knowing how uncomfortable it was to wait at her door. The Bronx brownstone faced southeast toward the Sound and Long Island, and through the winter a stiffwind blew almost steadily. She opened the door to see a petite woman framed against the dark corridor of the street, hopping around on the stoop to cope with the cold. The sky behind her was clear, but dark. The city lights obliterated all but the highest-hung stars. "Marilyn, my dear, come in quickly before the wind knocks you down." "It almost did. I parked a block away, and--" "Did you meet much traffic?" Connie took Marilyn's coat and shivered at the cold that rolled off of it. November-December 2000 Moore ¯ A Spiritual Direction "Som'e, as usual. The Cross Bronx is always crowded." "Oh, that's a terrible road. I always feel glad when I turn off. A cup of tea before we start?" "I would love it, if it's no trouble. It sounds so good." "No trouble at all. Go in and make yourse.lf comfortable. I'll be right back." She indicated the room she had just prepared, and waited to be sure her guest was seated before disappearing into the inner quarters to make tea. She returned with a tray and two steaming cups. They were silent as they fixed the tea to their lik-ing. Part of Connie's skill was to suppress small talk as the pre-lude to spiritual direction. Chatter cluttered the spirit, she believed. She had once lived as a hermit for three months, and the disci-pline served her well. After a suitable interval she moved to her cus-tomary opener. "So, tell me, what brings you to spiritual direction?" "Ah, yes. Well, I have the intuition, this notion. It haunts me and I feel almost, I don't know, maybe, embarrassed to share it. Or even ashamed--though maybe that is too strong a word. I've tried to discuss it, get a hold, but I." Connie listened as the other woman stuttered, and felt a tug of compassion. She leaned ever so slightly toward her, her eyes widening to lend support to the recitation. A sexual problem per-haps. Everything supposedly out in the open these days, but the unique turns of the human heart, and the struggle to articulate them! She waited. ". this notion, and others don't want to hear, or maybe can't hear. Almost a conviction actually." "A conviction that ." Connie was poised, waiting for the other to look up. "I don't want to offend you, as well. But I suppose it's foolish to come and beat around the bush. You see--" "'I assure you, my dear, I won't be offended. I'm eager to hear what you have to say." "A conviction that it's over. Over, over, over." Connie frowned, noted the slightest wave of impatience with the conversation's turn. "You'll have to tell me what 'it' is, I think." "This." She spread her hands as if her meaning should be obvi-ous, indicating the candle, the lamp, and Connie herself with thrusts of her chin. "Convents. Middle-aged women living in polite little groups, good-hearted, but accommodated. Comfortable. Convents, parlors, single beds, obsessive neatness, vanilla candles. Over." Review for Religious "Leave my candle out of it, at least," Connie said, more emphatically than she had intended. She was offended, but she did not realize it quite yet. "O.K. Your candle may be spared." Marilyn grinned. "But as for the other elements, well, the writing is on the wall." "Nebuchadnezzar? A kingdom about to fall?" Connie tried to get her bearings. The other's hesitancy had disappeared, her voice got stronger by the sentence, and Connie began to think that her earlier, tentative approach might have been a ploy. "Yes. That's exactly right, Connie. The humble kingdom we built for ourselves that did so much good. Children we taught, sick we nursed. It was a world in itself, a kingdom if you will. We had a place in a religiosity that was shared by Catholics every-where. In that Catholic world, we had a mystique of holiness, otherness. We were a cheap labor pool. Now others can do what we did, without living a special way of life." She took deep breath while Connie waited with alarm. "I believe our lifestyle is ending." Buy time. That was Connie's second idea, after the first one, something like, who do you think you are? Who are you, sup-posedly asking me for help, boldly upending a tradition? One that needs no defense. "I must keep eye contact," she thought. "Marilyn, too, is a committed religious, sincere, middle-aged, a seeker like myself." She was unused to such a strong emotion that was not compassion. She focused with effort. "Fall back on tech-nique," she urged herself. When she finally spoke, her voice was light. "Well, that's radical, for sure. Possibly a bit reductive. I'll need some time to take in the idea. But, in any case, you know that spir-itual direction does not provide answers. Why don't you tell me about your prayer. What's happening there?" "Connie, don't you see? That is what's happening. I pray, but I feel afraid. This sense of winding down . . . it, it assaults me. This is the result of my reading the signs of the times. And, very selfishly, I wonder what will happen to us. I'd actually like some-body to refute me." "'Prayer is the balance of mind and heart. Perhaps you think too much." November-December 2000 Moore ¯ A Spiritual Direction "Prayer is the balance of mind and heart. Perhaps you think too much." "Oh, maybe. It's just when I have an insight I always think it's correct. I'm not pious, either." Marilyn's voice had softened. Connie saw that she had heard her words as a correction, as in fact they had been. She had men-tioned fear, a key word in Connie's work, the rope binding the spirit, an adversary of growth. Usually Connie would have asked about it, but this evening it suddenly seemed like too much trou-ble. She was impatient, her back began to ache. She sought for a middle ground. "Or perhaps I think too little. You're a challenge to me, and I'm not sure if I can be as objective as I like. Can you"--she searched for the way back to Marilyn's point--"can you stay with the questions?" She got a little stronger. "Ride the questions." Marilyn thrust out her chin, as if shg regarded the question as an object in the room. There was a pulse of silence. "Yeah. That's a good idea." She smiled and looked at Connie with a glint of humor. "Good luck. I'll pray with you." There was a notable pause, and Connie sighed before turn-ing to topics of lesser import. Her back pain was easing, and she felt relieved that the conversation had returned to a manageable place. She was no coward. She had borne others' tears and rage at God. But a messy squabble with herself as partner was not at all congenial. She had put the balance back. She would pray with and for Marilyn. Both were careful to refrain from gossip in the spiritual-direc-tion setting; the set of those who chose such support was small, and many knew each other. Still, there were allowable facts--some-one's new job, an elderly sister's passing. And, after the intense discussion of the inner life, it was consoling to take in the mellow light and the full attention, each from the other. When they had finished the tea, and the candle wax threatened to spill on the table top, Marilyn moved to go. Connie helped her with her coat, saw her out into the cold air. The street was quieter now and a single star, maybe a planet, winked above the streetlights. She closed the door and went back to her direction room to turn off the light and blow out the candle. The wax had leaked onto the table into a viscous pool. "Ride the question," she repeated softly aloud to herself. She had been pleased to hit upon a phrase Revie~v for Religious that seemed to help her directee, but, as she turned it over in her mind now, looking at the empty room, it sounded trite, facile. The dialogue with Marilyn echoed in her mind, and a sensation rip-pled quickly, like the hint of an unpleasant duty she could not quite remember. She stepped away from the room with unusual haste and headed for the community recreation room and her favorite TV program. When Connie got to the community room, Sarah was watch-ing a public TV program--something about endangered species-- with the intensity of a graduate student. While she made eye contact with Connie, she held up a forefinger to postpone conversation until the program seg-ment ended. Connie sank into the chair and waited. She did not mind. It was more inter-esting to observe Sarah than to watch the parade of facts on the screen. She could easily see in the woman the ardent girl she had taught thirty years before, and, in her unsettled state of mind, that girl seemed to inhabit the room again. Sarah's field was biology, and she brought her expertise along with boundless energy to a nonprofit agency that monitored the environ-ment. Connie studied her with detached affec-tion. What was it that made Sarah so interesting? The combination of ambition and idealism, thought Connie. She was the perfect nun for our time. Connie mused about the effect of her own ministry. She had joined Sarah and the others in the brownstone house the year she finished her term as novice director. It had been her initiative to work free-lance in spiritual direction, and the community con-firmed' her choice. Her clients found her by word of mouth. She spent her day much as she had with the novices, in a disciplined but unhurried rhythm of prayer, study, and client appointments. It was Sarah who persuaded Connie to get a paying job two years ago. Some of the sisters in her own house had argued against it, but Sarah persisted. She pointed out to Connie that she com-plained about being the one to answer telephone solicitations and wait for plumbers. Sarah, the realist, reminded the community that their income base was shrinking, since the elderly sisters far outnumbered the younger wage-earners. Connie began to mind She could see in the woman the ardent girl she had taught thirty years before. November-December 2000 Moore ¯ A Spiritual Direction not having even a modest paycheck to present for the running of the house, and the quota for the retired sisters' care. The only thing she did not tell Sarah and the others was that she was tired of not having tales to "tell at supper about the outside world they inhabited each day. What could she say about spiritual direction? In that field there were no general issues, no little anecdotes, to report, only secrets of the heart whose value was discovered as the directee conferred it. So Connie took a job as the secretary in a little Catholic school in the Bronx. She bolstered the idealistic young man who was prin-cipal and lent an ear to the parents who rushed through with for-gotten lunches and umbrellas. She now had tales for the dinner table with the community, and savored even more the evenings of direction. She did not allow herself to miss the easy pace she had once enjoyed. She was often tired. She worried intermittently about losing weight, especially when Sarah inaugurated a new restric-tion in the community diet. She gave up insisting that they buy whole milk: it was not worth the commentary on cholesterol. But these were small .annoyances, predictable, familiar. If the occa-sional ache or pain pressed itself too deeply into her conscious-ness, her mind might leap to the future for a moment. But the pain subsided, or was integrated into what she chose to put up with. It was against her principles to measure herself by a worldly standard. She gazed at the TV for a bit, savoring the comfort of her (avorite chair until the program finished and Sarah pressed the mute button. "How was your day?" Connie asked. "Really productive," Sarah answered brightly. "I spent the morning editing that junior high 'natural city' curriculum. Jake did a great job with the project and I told him so. Then I had a meeting with the Friends of the Harbor committee. Giuliani's guy stopped in. Nice person actually, said he would continue to press our concerns with the mayor. He sounded sincere, but we'll keep the pressure on anyway. Peter was pleased." "Peter?" "Grossman, the earth sciences professor from Bronx Community College, that one who chairs--" "Oh yes, I remember him." Connie made it a point to keep up with the cast of cha[acters that peopled Sarah's offbeat job. "Did Jake's wife have the baby yet?" Review for Religious "Three days ago! I thought I'd told you. Mother and daugh-ter are doing fine." Sarah described the particulars of the birth in detail, then trained eager eyes on Connie. "How was your day?" Connie's mind returned to her session, where a seasoned nun had suggested that religious life would become a thing of the past. It was an abstract idea, after all. The common room she shared now with Sarah was perfectly real and stable. The house had been paid for. "Connie, your day?" Sarah's voice called her from her reverie. "Anything wrong?" "Wrong? Oh no." She hesitated. "Do you think about the future, Sarah? I mean our community. Do you think there will be nuns living in this house in twenty years? Youngish nuns, enthu-siastic like yourself, women who believe in prayer, the vows? Some of my directees"--she tried to be deliberately vague--"a few think our way of living is a thing of the past." Sarah frowned. "It could be, you know. Let's face it. No one has joined the community at all in the past five years, and those of us in it aren't getting any younger. It could be. But, hey, God our Mother will bring to birth something new. Birth, growth, decay, matter recycle into new growth. It's a universal process. Why should we escape it?" She reached for the TV wand."Do you want to watch anything else?" "You've thought about this?" "Oh, it crosses my mind now and again. Shall I turn this off?." Sarah waved the remote again. "Sure." Connie could see that Sarah was preparing to leave the community room, and a wave of desolation passed over her. She longed to call out, "Please don't go, yet," but she knew perfectly well such a request would startle Sarah. "She'd probably think I'm having some kind of attack," Connie thought. "What reason could I give for the need of her presence?" Nothing came to her. Sarah was at the door now, turning back, her gaze objective and ldnd. "You O.K., Connie?" "I'm just fine," Connie answered quickly. "Sufficient for the day is the trouble thereof." Sarah was satisfied. "Sleep well, then." "You too." Connie was alone now in the familiar room, and hothing could threaten her. Soon her strange moment of panic would pass, and she would move to her usual routine, fold back the newspaper, November-December 2000 Moore ¯ A Spiritual Direction enjoy the silence. She had an honorable job. She loved Sarah, and the others with whom she lived and shared an uncomplicated love of friendship. She scanned the headlines, then tossed them aside to read the Arts page, a book review, but she struggled to concen-trate. "Loneliness has no hold over me," she thought. Loneliness and solitude were the same companion in different dress, the bite of one and the consolation of the other alternating throughout her days. But the mood of release she sought at the end of the day still eluded her. She focused on the gratitude she must render for the events of the day, and recalled a grandmother who had come to the school to deliver a forgotten lunch. In her mind's eye she could see the weary black face transformed with smiles when the child hove into view. But, when the memory dimmed, a keen discomfort reasserted itself. She pushed through her rote evening prayer, "Now Lord you may dismiss your servant in peace, for my eyes have seen your sal-vation. A light of revelation to the Gentiles and a glory for your people Israel." Simeon, welcoming his life's end, having seen the object of his heart's desire. "He was lucky," she thought. The prayer did not seem to help at all. She turned off the light in the common room and made her way out by the light of the street lamp filtering through the blinds. She turned toward the kitchen. "A nice cup of tea," she thought. "It will clear my mind." She made the tea. She measured out her usual two spoonfuls of sugar, tasted it, then furtively added a third. She sipped it slowly and regarded the clock, whose subtle whine could be heard in the silence. "I tell my directees to face their fears. And so must I," Connie concluded. "What was it, then, old age?" But she dismissed this quickly. Maybe prettier, fitter women, yes, even nuns might struggle with this, but she had never known herself that way. She had long ago accommodated herself to aches and wrinkles. Nor was it fear of death. Not yet. Her mother, her aunts, stout women all, had lived into their nineties. "I probably have a few decades in me," she mused. What had Marilyn said? "It's over." That was the phrase that had ripped her, as if a web of equilibrium she hardly knew existed was torn, and its sundering had discovered a category of feeling she could not recognize. "Now, Lord, you may dismiss your servant in peace, because my eyes have seen your salvation." Simeon's words came back Review for Religious again, with the picture of the bearded sage, smiling and content, holding an infant whom he knew certainly to be the savior. Who did he think he was? "I'm jealous of him," she thought. And, since the habit of honesty was well established, Connie began to name the struggle. The child Simeon held had just been named Jesus, newly circumcised, accompanied by proud parents. She was jealous of Simeon's proximity, his luck to be in the right place at the right time. She was envious of the consolation of touch, the embrace that illuminated him, at once revealing the true iden-tity of the child. But most of all she was jealous of his certainty. As a young idealistic woman, and through all the vicissitudes of the years, she had fallen back on the certainty that she was doing God's will. And, just as the meeting with a newborn child had transformed Simeon from a bumbling old man into a prophet, so she had thought her lifestyle would transform her. She looked around the kitchen slowly, scrutinizing the cabi-nets, the fridge. Stalling. The fear she felt was not provoked by the encounter with Marilyn, but rather unmasked by it. Fear, raw fear, as when a young child is lost in a crowded arena. Connie placed both hands on the teacup and concentrated on the warmth that spread to her palms. She recalled, with effort, that she was an adult. But, slowly, understanding came to her. What was threatened was certainty and specialness. The fear in her belly suggested that she had bartered for those goods with the austerity of her lifestyle and her vows. Yet she herself had taught the basic truth of spiri-tual direction so many times: All that is not love must be rooted out. She could not blame anyone or anything external for her new situation. She sat thus at the kitchentable for a long while, and the tea, untouched, grew cold. By and by she simply admitted that an inner battle was just beginning; she might as well go to bed. Fear would come and go, and grief, too, must attend the process. She lay in bed, listening to the faint sounds of traffic, making an effort to yield to sleep in order to be ready for the next day. But, as she was poised on the mysterious shelf before consciousness falls away, a phrase floated up from the well of memory, a saying she would work with for months to come, "Though a bird be tied to earth by only a thread, still he cannot fly." November-December 2000 a witness response DENNIS j. BILLY Contemplative Religious Witness: A Redemptoristine Monastery At the end of each academic year, I leave my work at the Alphonsian Academy in Rome and spend the summer months as an author in residence at Mount St. Alphonsus, the Redemptorist retreat center in Esopus, New York. During my time there, one of the responsibilities I share with the other members of my community is to celebrate Eucharist at the nearby Redemptoristine monastery of Our Mother of Perpetual Help. This small community of contemplative nuns devotes itself to being what their 18th-century Neapolitan foundress, Maria Celeste Crostarosa (1696- 1755), called a "living memory" of the Holy Savior. My close contact with the sisters there has helped me appreciate more deeply the contemplative dimension of my own vocation. It has also helped me see the intimate relationship between the Redemptorist and Redemptoristine callings, two very different lifestyles-- one apostolic, the other contemplative--deeply devoted to a common charism of proclaiming "plentiful redemption" in Christ. Dennis J. Billy CSSR, a frequent contributor to this review, may be addressed at Accademia Alfonsiana; C.P. 2458; 00100 Roma; Italy. R~view for Religious Spousal Love As a community of women entirely dedicated to contemplation, the sisters at Perpetual Help Monastery maintain a spirit of separation but openness to the world around them. They follow the norms of papal enclosure as laid out in church law and interpreted by their Constitutions and Statutes, but do so with a keen sensitivity that their contemplative vocation places them at the very heart of the local church. In the spirit of Vatican Council II, they have also renewed their way of life to be more in keeping with the spirit and charism of their foundress. In doing so, they have attempted to adapt the contemplative life to the exigencies of North American culture while at the same time taking care to maintain the significant countercultural and eschatological witness that religious life in general and the contemplative life in particular seeks to convey. The result is a small but dedicated group of women religious whose lives are deeply immersed in the mystery of Christ and his body, the church. Verbi sponsa, the recent Vatican instruction on contemplative life and the norms of papal enclosure, describes cloistered nuns as becoming, with the Virgin Mary, "the 'living memory' of the church's spousal love" (§1). I could not read these words without thinking of the special meaning they would have for the Redemptoristines at Esopus and throughout the world. Mary's close.relationship to her Son places her in a position of humble service toward all who turn to her. "To Jesus through Mary" was the way St. Alphonsus de Liguori (1696- 1787) liked to express Mary's role in the economy of salvation. Everything she does is meant to lead us to a closer, more intimate relationship with her Son. Her loving and heartfelt fiat in Luke's Gospel reminds us that it could not be otherwise. Her response to the angel reveals a deep trust in God's trust in her. She became the Mother of God because of her spousal relationship with God, which was itself a gift from God to her and, through her, to all the world. When seen in this light, to be with Mary a "living memory of the church's spousal love" leads quite naturally (perhaps it would be better to say "supernaturally") to being a "living memory of the redeeming Christ." Each remembrance is a single dimension of a To be with Mary a "living memory of the church's spousal love". Ly-95---2 November-December 2000 Billy ¯ Contemplative Religious Witness much larger reality: you cannot have one without the other. Keenly aware of this connection, the Redemptoristines at Esopus proclaim their spousal love for their risen Lord at their daily Eucharist, where he eats with them, drinks with them, and caresses them with the gentle, calming breeze of his Spirit. A Eucharistic Community It is often said that something is not fully experienced until it is remembered. If this saying is true, then the Redemptoristines' desire to become a "living memory" of their Lord must foster a deeper experience of Jesus' presence in their hearts and in their midst. One need only consider the deep spirit of prayerfulness that fills their daily celebration of the Eucharist to see that this is so. These simple celebrations tap into the hidden life of contemplation going on in the deepest recesses of their hearts and reveal the height and depth and breadth of the paschal mystery. The daily Eucharist is the center of the sisters' lives. It immerses them in the mystery of God's love which their lives espouse and puts them in intimate contact with their risen Lord. The Eucharist reminds them of the "eucharistic quality" of the cloistered life itself (see Verbi sponsa, §3). Separation from the world enables the sisters to be present t6 the world on a much deeper level. It enables them to share not only in Jesus' life of kenotic self-offering, but also to join him in his eternal act of thanksgiving to the Father. This close connection between the Eucharist and the sisters' contemplative vocation touches the very heart of the redemptive mystery. It affirms Jesus' ongoing presence in their community and gives meaning to every dimension of their largely hidden life of prayer. The sisters' daily remembrance of Jesus is possible only because of Jesus' continual remembrance of them. They seek to be a living memorial to the living memorial he has left them in the Eucharist. They, more than anyone else I have met, take to heart Jesus' words "Do this in memory of me." In this light, life in the Redemptoristine cloister at Esopus takes on the threefold dimensions of banquet, sacrifice, and presence that characterize the mystery of every Eucharistic celebration. Being a "living memo~ry" of Jesus, in other words, means seeking to give nourishment to others (banquet) through a humble offering of self (sacrifice) in the name and in the company of Jesus, who is "Emmanuel, God wi~h us" (presence). The Review for Religious Eucharist, in other words, not only is the summit of their lives, but permeates everything they do. Without it, there is no way they could continue or even survive. From Death to Life I once had the occasion to experience this eucharistic quality of the sisters' lives in a profound and beautiful way. Sister Mary Regina, one of the sisters in the community, was nearing death after a long-drawn-out battle with cancer. This was happening at the very time I had been scheduled to lead the sisters in their annual ten-day retreat. After learning that Regina's death was drawing near, I fully expected the retreat to be canceled (or at least postponed), since the sisters' hearts were heavy with sorrow and their schedule was already overloaded by the "round the clock" attention Regina's condition demanded. I was ~urprised, therefore, to learn that the community wanted the retreat to go on, despite the added strain it would put on them. I was even more surprised (but also delighted) when, on the first day of the retreat, the prioress asked if it would be all right to celebrate Mass in the infirmary so that Regina could attend from her sickbed. That Eucharistturned out to be the last Regina would ever share in--at least on this side of death. The breaking of the bread took on special significance as we celebrated in the presence of one whose life was ebbing away. The nearness of death brought a special solemnity to our celebration. Regina's silence added depth to our words; her gaze, a quiet calm to our troubled, questioning hearts. The knowledge that she would not be with us much longer affected the way we prayed. Everyone in the room seemed to have one eye fixed on the Lord and the other one on her. And that was the way it should have been, the way the Lord himself wanted it. This was Regina's moment. With her community around her, she was free to be herself before her Lord. Firmly fixed on the host, her eyes told us in a quiet, nonverbal way that Jesus was with her in a way he had never been before. So it is, I believe, with all of us at or near the time of death. Each one of us must one day drink from the same cup. Now it was Regina's turn. Separation from the world enables the sisters to be present on a much deeper level. November-December 2000 Billy ¯ Contemplative Religious Witness Near the end of Mass, I looked around the room and experienced that sense of communion that can only come from hearts united by their common yearning for God. As my eyes moved from face to face, I could sense the pain that the community as a whole and each of its members was experiencing as a result of Regina's illness and imminent death. I could also sense the deep love that bound them to each other and, at this special moment, to Regina. In the midst of the sadness, my gratitude deepened and gave way to a deep sense of peace. The Lord was with us, and that was all that mattered. I closed my eyes and imagined myself in the upper room. The Heart of the Church Contemplatives, we are told, live at the very heart of the church. On this day I was grateful for this brief glimpse God had given me into the heart of a contemplative community. There the simple mysteries of life and death are recognized, pondered, and celebrated. There human existence is plumbed to its depths and experienced in all its wonder and heightened fragility. There the restlessness of the human heart forages in the darkness of divine mystery. There God is allowed to be God and is welcomed, however he chooses to come. Very few of us ai'e called to live as contemplatives in the heart of the church. Those who hear the call and respond to it often find that they have been driven to it by the relentless pursuit of a passionate divine Lover. Happiness would elude them anywhere else. Only there, in the cloister, can they give themselves exclusively to God with all their heart, mind, soul, and strength. Their hidden life behind their monastery walls is the visible reminder of what they have left behind--and journeyed into. So essential is it to the good of the whole that it recedes, almost by necessity, to the background of life's numerous surface activities. Like the heart itself, it is never seen, rarely heard, seemingly still, but always pumping. The heart, one might say, is an appropriate metaphor for monastic enclosure itself. Some of the most vital activity in the entire body takes place within the narrow, confining chambers of the heart. These otherwise empty cavities are formed by the inner contours of the heart's muscle fibers. The constant expansion and contraction of these tissues forces the blood through the chambers Review for Religious and creates enough pressure to make it flow throughout the rest of the body. In a similar way the empty spaces within the cloister are visibly shaped by the rules of monastic enclosure which, firm yet flexible, allow the life of the contemplative community to distinguish itself from the rest of Christ's body in order to perform for it a special function. Here the all-important apostolic dimension of the contemplative life comes to light. The contemplative community plumbs the depths of the Spirit so that the life of the Spirit may flow more freely to all the members of the body. Here the law of inverted magnitudes operates in full force. The contemplative community confines itself in time and space in order to open itself up to and move more deeply into the sacred. This simultaneous movement ("juxtaposition," if you will) of contraction and expansion is at the center of the contemplative experience. Although not everyone is called to live a life of monastic enclosure, all of us are called to foster a contemplative attihade toward life. For us to do so, this dynamic .movement of physical withdrawal and spiritual expansion must somehow come into play for each of us. Active and Contehaplative I began these reflections by stating that my contact with the Redemptoristine community at Esopus has given me a deeper appreciation of the contemplative dimension of my vocation as a Redemptorist, missionary. I also like to think that, in some way, the appreciation has been mutual, giving rise in them to a deeper sense of the apostolic dimension of their lives as contemplative religious. We share a single charism which, although expressed in drastically different lifestyles, brings to light the plentiful redemption wrought for us in the passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Contemplative religious, we have seen, live in the very heart of the church. The Redemptoristines, to my mind, do much the same for the apostolic mission of the Redemptorist congregation. Both orders, after all, share common origins and embrace the same motto: Copiosa apud eum redemptio ("With him there is plentiful redemption"). To follow the Lord in his work for the poor and most abandoned (as Redemptorists try to do) is closely tied to being a "living memory" of the risen Lord (as the sisters try to be). Each order focuses on a different dimension of the one redemptive mystery and, for this very reason, is intimately related to the other. Noventber-December 2000 My experience at Esopus has taught me that contemplative religious can best contribute to the apostolic mission of the church by simply being themselves and living whatever Rule they follow with patience, humility, and deep compassion. In doing so, they reveal the depth of their humanity and remind us of the intimacy we are all called to share with the divine. The eucharistic quality of their lives enables them to celebrate the present moment-- whatever it may bring--by sharing the gifts of self-offering and sensitive personal presence. Their life of solitude places them at the very heart of the church's life and ongoing mission. Their enclosed life offers the world a countercultural and eschatological sign of what is still to come, yet somehow already mysteriously present in the deepest recesses of the human heart. Like the Redemptoristines at Esopus, contemplative religious are called to lose themselves in the mystery of the divine in order to find themselves in the face of the very next person they meet. They plumb the depths of human experience in order to move more deeply into the sacred and live in intimate spousal union with their divine Lover. All of them are living reminders of the passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. All are visible expressions of the church's living memory of what took place in the person of Jesus Christ and takes place today in his body, the church. Theirs is a message for all times, all places, and all circumstances. Those who hear it will recognize the need to foster in themselves a contemplative attitude toward life. Those who do not will miss a unique opportunity to peer beneath the surface of life and behold, as never before, the innermost treasures of the human heart. Review for Religious ANDRI~ MAUREEN SOETE A Vowed Response to the Postmodern World Tphosetm choadrearcnte wriostrilcds asryem bpetionmgs s, taunddie rde aalnitdie ps roofb oeudr bsyo -sccailelend-tists, sociologists, anthropologists, philosophers, and theologians. All seek to understand the reality, foresee the consequences, and arrive at some satisfactory description and response. Since I am not a theologian, scientist, philosopher, or any of the above, I do not claim to understand this reality, much less propose responses. What I offer is simply my own response as a woman religious, specifically a School Sister of Notre Dame. The Situation of Our Age Postmodern issues have been touching us and coming into our consciousness for some time now. Our world is rapidly chang-ing, and what we once thought were objective, unchangeable real-ities are in fact changing. The "way to be" and the "way to do" for the present generation seems so different from our way. What can all this mean to SSND sisters and associates at this time? This time of change may feel like a breakdown. The world has become so different that we may not like it and may question Andr,~ Maureen Soete SSND has ministered in Japan for thirteen years. This article is the address she gave to an assembly of Japanese and North American School Sisters of Notre Dame in Kyoto on 9 January 2000. Her address is 11 ol Kawarada-cho; Matsugasaki; Sakyo-ku; Kyoto 606, Japan. November-December 2000 Soete * A Vowed Response the direction in which it is heading. Envisioning ourselves living in this new age, we may have the feeling that we do not fit, for what we understood as reality is being challenged. This is not just the usual generation-gap experience that we have all probably experienced from one side or the other. This phenomenon has been observed by many since the first hints of it in the 1970s and is obviously a real cultural shift. The choices for different lifestyles, the questioning of what we considered permanent values, and the challenges to our thinking are in some ways unnerving. We may catch ourselves longing for the good old days--the secure structures, the way students "used to be," and the way convent life was. It almost tempts us to choose to respond by retreating--by going back. These times are being described by the word chaos. Some of the chaotic things that people observe and study are political, eco-nomic, and social oppression; poverty, starvation, and unemploy-ment; the oppression of women; the ecological crisis; nuclear threat; secularism, materialism, and the failure of churches to renew themselves and inspire belief. Chaos causes a great deal of anxiety, but it also provides us with the moment and the call to rediscover our real story and our deepest roots. How Our Foundress Would Respond As followers of Mother Theresa Gerhardinger, we can ask ourselves how she would manage in this age, how .she would respond if she were alive today. We know that our answer would have something to do with our charism. What is it that she passed on to us that is ageless? What is the changeless essence that will survive these times and even give us the hope we need to go on? When we think of Mother Theresa responding to her time and day we think of a strong woman of prayer, a woman of God, a woman in touch with the reality and needs of her day, a woman animated and energized by the conviction that women can change the world, a woman who knew that, if people can change, the world can cMnge too. But at the root of all these images of her was her sense of God's desire and call "that all be one." She longed for the oneness of all in God. She was a woman willing to strug-gle for unity on every level. She could see unity in diversity, for she believed in the rights of individuals and the respect due to each person. She learned the Review for Religious lessons essential for real unity--lessons of love, respect, appreci-ation, tolerance, and trust--first from her own parents and later from her mentors Bishop Wittmann and Father Job. These were her models, inspiring her to foster the same values among her sis-ters and her society. It was her commitment to unity and her drive "to make one" that gave her tireless energy for mission, and could give us the same tireless energy. The Postmodern Age The academic world has come to use the term "postmodern" in an attempt to name this period of the world's history because this is the period in which people are reacting to all that is false and untrue, all that has not worked in our familiar modern age. In some way the choice of the name "postmodern" is like calling the butterfly a "postcaterpillar." "Postcaterpillar" might be a suitable name during the period when we observe that the caterpillar is no more, that what was once the caterpillar now seems dead or half dead, changing unaccountably. But once we see the beautiful creature with bright wings emerge, flutter freely, and take flight, we find ourselves calling it a "butterfly." Similarly, because of the lack of clarity about the future, schol-ars describe the present reality by noting changes from the earlier condition.When all of the characteristics of this age become clear and show some coherence, it will be time to give the new period a name. The world may not reach that point in our lifetimes, but I hope that all of us want to be a part of the creation of the new name. We can do that by appropriately influencing, shaping, and creating some of the characteristics that will emerge. I suggest that a principal characteristic must be unity. That same oneness that was Christ's mission and Theresa Gerhardinger's mission must be our mission too. Failure of the Modern Age The modern age promised us that by science and technology, by dividing the whole, dissecting and labeling every part, and con-trasting one thing with another, it could understand and solve the problems of our world and probe the depths of reality. It promised that the world would be controlled and developed and perfected, and that human beings would reach great heights. But science November-December 2000 [--~2 ¯ Soete ¯ A Vowed Response Our prosperity and plenty come to us on the backs of the poor and oppressed. itself has had to admit that the mysteries of the world are far beyond such probing; that our scientific advances have actually destroyed much of our world and have led us to live in fear of some scientific developments; that actually, in spite of all of our sci-entific progress, we have missed opportunities to expand and develop our spiritual and human potential and have inst(ad created horrendous human misery. MI of the human misery in the world today is a sign that these former beliefs are not working. When I think of the oppression, poverty, ecological recklessness, uncontrolled materialism, and other problems of our day, I can understand why a new generation rejects our old answers. When I hear dogmatic pronouncements from our churches or from our governments about how things should be and see that those very pronouncements bring about more division than unity and hope alnong peoples, I can understand why some of my own young nieces and nephews reject them as incomplete, irrelevant, without meaning in their lives. It is probably true that there have always been famines, always children abused, always conflicts among religious groups, always people oppressed and exploited and murdered--but we have not always known about them with such immediate clarity. Now, thanks to advances in technology, we do. We are informed immediately about what is happening around the world. And we know now what the prophets and economists have been telling us for a long time, that our prosperity and plenty come to us on the backs of the poor and oppressed. And now the poor and oppressed know that too. We can see all of the "signs of the times" on our nightly news programs. It is up to us to read them carefully, interpret them honestly, and respond accordingly. If society is not organizing itself so as to be inclusive of all citizens, but chooses rather to be exclusive, then the developments in the world around us must sig-nal that we are going in the wrong direction. If our lack of respect for our environment cries out to heaven and to us in its misery, if our land is no longer fertile, our water is befouled, and our air is poisoned--if we really see and recognize this, we must know that we are going in the wrong direction. Review for Religious If our neglect of the poor and downtrodden causes our edu-cation and healthcare systems to fail, and if our competitive cul-tures make the lives of many people miserable, then all of that neglect and competition must be the wrong direction. If the signs tell me that life the way we have thus far organized it is not work-ing, that nothing succeeds, that my actions effect disaster for oth-ers, I am obviously moving in the wrong direction. After recognizing all of this, what do we do? We must make choices in response to these signs. We can choose to be "the tired ones" who give up to let someone else lead the renewal. We can choose to be "the selfish ones" who create only our own security and pleasure. Or we can choose to be "the hopeful ones" who will look for new possibilities for ourselves and for the world. I want us to be the ones who choose to be hopeful. I think we must con-tinue to believe that human beings hold the potential to create a world that works for all peoples. Our Vows as a Response I think that as vowed religious we might bring new dimen-sions to the thinking about solutions to world problems and could radically affect outcomes--not by seeing ourselves as an elite group distanced from our neighbors by some holy and private choices, by mysterious vows of poverty, celibacy, and obedience, but rather by remembering--and letting ourselves be reignited by--the zeal with which I think we all made our first vows. I mean the per-sonal hope that we would change the world for the better, that we ourselves would bring with us the presence of Christ, that by sharing our love, faith, and hope we would make Christ visible and bring all the world to oneness in God. What happened to that most wonderful zeal and enthusiasm? I think that we religious need to ponder deeply the meaning of our vows and the witness our lives can give, must give, in con-trast to various trends and news events. I think of instances of environmental pollution, of trials for war crimes, of the terroriz-ing of ethnic and religious groups, and of the mother of a young child who could kill another woman's little girl. We seek to be effective in demonstrating hope and bringing it into our world. In a world where millions (including helpless children) suf-fer from the lack of such essentials as food, clothing, shelter, medicine, and education; in a world where people use their wealth November-December 2000 Soete ¯ A Vowed Response to produce more wealth so that they can live in a style that uses up the goods of the earth; in a world where people want more and more and give less and less to the laborers who produce the goods; in a world full of people who throw away and waste without even a thought--in such a world I have promised, we have promised, to use only what we need and to share everything we have. Are we keeping that promise? Would anyone who looks at us, our lifestyles, or our closets notice our choiceto do with less and our willingness to share? Would they be edified, stand in awe of the way that we are keeping our promise? In a world where groups of human beings look upon other groups as lower and with great intolerance seek to get rid of them; in a world where "ethnic cleansing," ways of death, become a way of life for some; in a world where nationalism means that free-dom to be intolerant of the differences of other races or peoples-- in such a world I have promised, we have promised, to love inclusively and to take on Jesus' own reverence and concern for all people, excluding no one. Are we keeping that promise? Would anyone who looks at us, at our way of being with the people with whom we live, at our way of being with the people at our place of ministry, notice our love, tolerance, and respect? Would they be edified and stand in awe of the way we are keeping our promise? In a world where the strong and influential make decisions for the weak; in a world where whole groups of people are not consulted about matters that affect vital areas of their lives; in a world where people are murdered because they disagree--in such a world I have promised, we have promised, to search for God's will and the right direction through dialogue and conversation, con-sultation and collaboration with all concerned. Are we keeping that promise? Would anyone who watches how we lead or partic-ipate in groups of students or teachers or coworkers notice our collaborative style or the way we listen to every person? Wotild they be edified and stand in awe of the way we are keeping our promise? What Then? I have spoken about our vows, emphasizing them as three promises because the term "vows" can sometimes be spiritualized and focused only on our commitment to God. In thinking about them as promises, I had a sense of a great possibility. I began to see Review for Religious that what we promise is more like a radical way that all human beings need to choose if we are to create a world where all people can live with dignity. I Wonder what might happen if we shared these choices of ours more openly among ourselves and witnessed to them more radically with our associates and with our partners in ministry. I am not so sure of our next step. I am not so sure how this small core of friends and others like us might have a good impact on our society and our world. But I think that somehow we can--and I challenge ourselves and others to come alive with that potential. "Striving for Unity" is our charism. We are supposed to be masters of it by now. Why, in our Japan Region alone, if we add up all of our years of religious life, we have more than three thousand years of our SSND lifestyle! I hope that we and others may gather together everyone's good insights and with them create for ourselves an exciting and real-istic dream as we step forward with God into this third millennium. Many of us will probably not be around when the next era gets its name, but--just as we prefer the word "butterfly" to "postcaterpillar" when thinking of the little creature's potential--would we not want the concepts of oneness, tolerance, collaboration, acceptance, and respect to be part of the name given to the next era? Are there initiatives for us to take, or can we at least support and encourage the wonderful people around us who are already dedicating their lives to this conversion and transformation of the earth? Is this not what we want to use our energy and ingenuity for? Is this not a way that we could use our positions as educa-tors and as ministers? Is this not worth the offering of the rest of our lives? We have promised to use only what we need. Are we keeping that promise? November-Decen~ber 2000 LAWRENCE F. BARMANN Mary Ward: Centuries Her Scroll examples from the past Today, amid questions about effective evangelization in the 21st century, about leadership and ~uthority in the Catholic Church, and about women's fuller participa-tion in these efforts and echelons, there is much that can and should be learned from Mary Ward at long last. During her lifetime four hundred years ago, she experi-enced much suffering and failure, but her full contribu-tion to the church and the world seems now to be only beginning. For religious in the United States and else-where who may know little or nothing of this extraor-dinary woman, I hope this article may provide a brief but warm introduction. The recent book I will be draw-ing from and citing is an excellent place to make fur-ther acquaintance with her goodness and truth. I refer to Mary Ward: Pilgrim and Mystic by Margaret Mary Littlehales IBVM) Mary Ward was an English gentlewoman, well-con-nected by birth, and related to many of those who were executed for their part in the ill-conceived Gun Powder Plot of 1605. She was born in Yorkshire in 1585, three years before the defeat of the Spanish Armada and four- Lawrence E Barmann is a professor of American studies and theological studies at Saint Louis Univ, ersity. His address is Humanities Building; 3800 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. Review for Religious teen years after Pope Pius V's bull Regnans in excelsis made techni-cal traitors out of all English Catholics who claimed allegiance to the pope by inviting them to dethrone Queen Elizabeth. So mar-tyrdom for the faith, or at least willingly accepted hardship for the ability to practice it, became the very atmosphere in which Mary Ward grew to adulthood. Such an atmosphere is often inducive to quick spiritual maturity, and in Mary Ward's case it certainly was. By the time she was sixteen, Mary Ward had developed a strong prayer life and the conviction that God intended her for the religious state in some form. Her parents thought otherwise, and Edmund Neville, heir to the earldom of Westmoreland, became her suitor. After Mary had gently rejected him, Neville became a Jesuit; and at twenty-one she persuaded her father to allow her to go to the continent to try her vocation to religious life. In 1606 Mary arrived at SaintoOmer in the Spanish Netherlands (now northern France), where English Catholics escaping persecution in their homeland had been migrating for decades. Through the advice of misguided confessors, she entered a Poor Clare convent, only to realize within a year that this was not where God intended her to be. In 1609 she returned briefly to England, where she seems to have gained some light about God's choice for her. Upon returning to Saint-Omer with a small group of English women about her own age, she set about doing for women's education what the Jesuits were doing for boys among the emigr~s. She called her community the Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and her specific intention was "to train English girls from Catholic families to be wives and mothers or religious, but all to be apostles for the faith in England." She was convinced that women were quite as capable of edu-cation as men, though she thought they did not need precisely the same courses. For Greek and Hebrew she substituted modern lan-guages, and for physical training, dancing. Moreover, she set about having her own followers trained to teach such things. In the patri-archal world and church of the 17th century, this was considered wildly innovative and thus suspect; and so the church authorities, who alone could approve her work as a religious institute, were to make Mary pay dearly for such innovation. Once, in 1617, after hearing a Jesuit priest comment on the work of her schools that, "when all is done, they are but women," Mary remarked calmly but with conviction: "There is no such dif- November-Decen~ber 2000 Barmann ¯ Mary Ward ference between men and women that women may not do great things . And I hope in time to come it will be seen that women will do much . What think you of this word 'but women'? but as if we were in all things inferior to some other creature which I suppose to be man." Mary Ward's convictions about this and much else were drawn not primarily from books and debates, but from her intense relationship with God and from his grace working through her wonderfully balanced and prophetic personality. As the schools grew and young women increasingly wished to join Mary Ward's community, she needed to settle on some rule of life. By 1611 already about forty women had cast their lots with hers. Both the local bishop and her confessor tried to force her to adopt either the Augustinian, Benedictine, Franciscan, or Carmelite rules. To these urgings she could only respond that "they seemed not that which God would have." These "English Ladies," as they were now commonly called by their supporters (or "Jesuitesses," by their detractors), could not have adopted any of those earlier rules for women and continue to do the work to which they were called; all four rules as they were applied to women in those days required canonical enclosure. Finally Mary Ward had her answer, and it was to lead to incredible suffering for the remainder of her life. To the papal nuncio in Cologne, Monsignor Albergati, she explained: About this time, in the year 1611, being alone in some extraordinary repose of mind, I heard distinctly not by sound of voice, but intellectually understood, these words: "Take the same of the Society"; so understood as that we were to take the same both in matter and manner, that only excepted which God by diversity of sex hath prohibited. These few words gave so great a light in that particular institute, comfort and strength, and changed so the whole soul as that it was impos-sible for me to doubt, but that they came from Him whose words are works. Mary Ward's conviction that God intended her to adopt the Jesuit Rule to her institute of religious women and to do her spe-cial work in the world rather than in a cloister was what 17th-cen-tury western Europe obviously needed if it were to remain at all Catholic. But it was a conviction far in advance of the convictions of most of the male authorities in post-Reformation Rome. Furthermore, the Jesuits had managed to incur the jealous wrath of the secular clergy in England, and these latter pursued Mary with calumnious accusations simply because she intended to estab-lish a female religious congregation based on Jesuit principles. Review for Religious These calumnies found a ready hearing in Rome. The Jesuits them-selves were ambivalent about her institute, sometimes being extremely helpful and sometimes joining the enemy. In 1622 Mary Ward finally met the Jesuit general, Mutius Vitelleschi, who was deeply and permanently impressed by her. Henceforth the Jesuit general would instruct his men to be supportive of Mary's work and gracious to her, short of such involvement as might lead to a sort of second order--something St. Ignatius Loyola had strictly for-bidden. Meanwhile Mary's institute had established schools not only in Saint-Omer, but in Liege and Rome, and would soon have houses in Naples, Perugia, Munich, Vienna, Pressburg, and elsewhere. Mary herself, always of delicate physical constitution, went back and forth across the Alps, mostly on foot, frequently in winter and in the midst of the Thirty Years War, in order to strengthen and encourage her followers; while at the same time she worked tirelessly to gain the necessary support of bishops, the Roman curia, and the pope, for the approval of her institute. The number of high-placed clerics who opposed her for reasons that had nothing to do with reli-gion, or even good sense, always outnumbered those who sup-ported her. The bishop of Vienna, for instance, wrote to Rome in 1628 to complain that the English Ladies had opened a school there without his peymission (though they had the emperor's per-mission and he had even given them a house and funds) and that the girls in Mary Ward's school had actually performed publicly in a comic school play! With the Catholic religion collapsing in central Europe, a bishop's jealousy of his rights against the only Catholic ruler of any weight in the region would ultimately prevent the Catholic education of young women in the empire. Of popes with whom Mary had to deal, Urban VIII, who would condemn Galileo at Mary Ward's conviction that God intended her to adopt the Jesuit Rule to her institute of religious women was what 17th-century western Europe obviously needed if it were to remain Catholic. November-December 2000 Barmann ¯ Mar~ Ward about the same time that he condemned Mary Ward, was the most duplicitous. She first had an audience with Urban in 1624, in which she pleaded for approval of her institute and in which Urban smiled and smiled and totally misled her about his intentions. Eventually he ordered the suppression of all of her houses and the dissolution of her institute, and this merely on the basis of English clerical calumnies and calumnies spawned by the hurt pride of ambitious continental clerics. Mary herself was eventually imprisoned as a heretic in a Poor Clare convent in Munich, by order of the Roman Inquisition. There she nearly died, though she so impressed the resident Poor Clares that they knew she was anything but a heretic. Meanwhile, her followers were being systematically driven from their houses and were mostly on the verge of starvation. Having at length been released from prison, Mary set out at the end of 1631 for Rome in order to clear her good name for the sake of what she hoped might be the future of her institute. Kneeling at Urban's feet she burst out, "Holy Father, I am not nor ever have been a heretic." At which the pope interrupted, "We believe it, we believe it; we need no other proof." He also allowed the institute to continue (under private vows) in Rome and under his protection. In 1637 Mary Ward set out again for England, though it would be May of 1639 before she actually got there. She sought a letter from Pope Urban to give to Queen Henrietta Maria to gain the queen's support for her institute. The letter Mary received speaks of her as "one much esteemed in Rome both for her well-known qualities and piety, which will without doubt cause Your Majesty to see and hear her." This was the same Rome which, only half a dozen years earlier, had imprisoned her as a heretic and decreed the destruction of her life's work. The queen did receive Mary gra-ciously, but within a year the country would be in the throes of political ttirmoil that would end in civil war and the execution of the king. Without completely abandoning her hope of establishing a school in London, Mary went north to Yorkshire in 1642, and there she died at Osbaldwick, a short distance from the city of York, on 20 January (old style) 1645. After her death Mary Ward's institute did in fact flourish, and finally, in 1977, after a wait of 366 years, the Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary was able to realize Mary Ward's original insight and founder's charism by adopting the Jesuit Constitutions, and with the blessing of the Jesuit general, Pedro Arrupe. Margaret Mary Review for Religious Littlehales's study of Mary's Ward's life reveals many things. It reveals the costliness, but also the great happiness, of completely abandoning oneself to God. It also demonstrates that, within the external church structure, official authority can be quite wrong, but probably less so in proportion to the genuine humility of its wielders. Mary Ward's life demonstrates incontrovertibly that God's intended purposes are often achieved through the near annihilation of the human instruments of that achievement. Christians should not be surprised by this, for such was the case with God's own Son. Contemporary religious, both men and women, can find great encouragement and inspiration in the life of this saintly English woman. Dorothy Day did, and she even titled her own autobiog-raphy with a remark Mary Ward once made as she pondered what lay ahead of her as a young woman bent on seeking only God's will--"the long loneliness." Note 1 Margaret Mary Littlehales, Mary Ward, Pilgrim and Mystic, 1~8Y- 164~ (Tunbridge Wells, England: Burns and Oates, 1998). Pp. 272. £18.95. Patrimony my patrimony is a deity unknown whose name I cannot pronounce communicated to me in stuttering speech, in fits of temper and in weeping, in so many questions unleavened by answers in silence and in absence by those struck dumb and those afraid to speak Sefin Kinsella November-December 2000 STAN PARMISANO St. Catherine's Letters: Human Love, Gracious Authority One level of St. Catherine of Siena, perhaps her deepest, is revealed in her Dialogue.' But this great work, whether in the original or in proper translation, is strange fare for many mod-ern readers. Its subject matter--mystical union with the Trinity in and through Christ--is high and heavy and, I should think, attractive only to the relatively few seriously intent upon such union. Its language often includes words and phrases borrowed from the scholastic theology of the day, though Catherine's orig-inal genius keeps breaking through, giving new form to old mat-ter. The book is also rife with personification and allegory (Christ the Bridge, the Tree of Life, Vineyard of the Soul, and so forth)-- fun for the medieval reader, but dry and tedious for today's read-ership. Also, in the Dialogue Catherine is quite formal and impersonal. The lively, dynamic personality recorded in history is certainly there, but it has to be searched out, for it is hidden in the shadow of the great Truth she labors to expound. She herself is merely un'anirna in the mighty presence of her God. Her letters are a different matter.2 They are personal--writ-ten not by an anonymous "soul," but by the flesh-and-blood Catherine. Io Caterina rings throughout, addressed not to people in general, but to here-and-now individuals. The letters evoke wide and popular interest. They deal with Catherine's own life Stan Parmisano OP wrote about theology and faith in our September- October issue. His address remains Saint Albert's Priory; 5890 Birch Court; Oakland, California 94618. Revie'a, for Religiou, and visible experiences and with details about life around her, social and political as well as spiritual. Their language is not borrowed from or freighted with outmoded rhetorical devices, but is pleas-ingly spontaneous and informal, as alive today as in Catherine's own time. On the whole the letters are original. They are Catherine, in every vibrant word and phrase--simple, nuanced, various, alive with passion for the truth, and the truth in particu-lar situations. They are "unliterary," to be sure, for they were talked, not written, by our unlettered saint, but they are clear and coherent, direct and firm, though also tactful. Catherine sometimes digresses, loses the train of her thought, but she never really rambles on or gossips. She has little time for light conversation ("Let us run, let us run, for the time is short!"), and her central point is almost always clear and precise. Though each of her letters is unique, many of them fall into a common pattern. They begin with Jesus, and with Catherine as the slave of the servants of God--never, for Catherine, a mere pious formula, but always freshly genuine. Then she often seems to lose herself in the contemplation and exposition of one of the mysteries of faith, which, however, turns out to be pertinent to the subject of the letter. Soon she comes to the question at issue, and, if in the initial paragraphs she was high and spiritual, peacefully contemplative, now she is very much the active apostle dealing practically and in detail with earthy mat-ters. She ends with statements of love and concern for her corre-spondent, placing all in the hands of God: "Bathe you in the blood of Christ crucified. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love." The letters reveal the breadth as well as depth of Catherine's concerns, and her marvelous ability to adapt, with no compromise of ideal, to various situations and personalities. To a little niece she writes in gentle, childlike simplicity about the wise and foolish virgins in the Gospel and the lamps they bear: "Do you know what this means, my daughter? By the lamp is meant our heart, because a heart ought to be like a lamp. You see that a lamp is wide above and narrow below, and so the heart is made to signify that we ought always to keep it wide above through holy thoughts and holy imaginations and continual prayer; always holding in mem-ory the blessing of the Blood by which we are bought . I said . simple, nuanced, various, alive with passion for the truth, and the truth in particular situations. November-December 2000 Parmisano ¯ St. Catherine's Letters that a lamp is narrow below, and so is our heart: to signify that the heart ought to be narrow toward these earthly things--that is, it must not desire or love them extravagantly, nor hunger for more than God wills to give us" (letter no. 23). To Alessa, as to other of her women disciples, she sends prac-tical advice about the religious life, which is to be lived "both with and without moderation . For love toward God should be with-out measure, and that for creatures should be measured by that for God, and not by measure of one's own consolations, whether spiritual or temporal." And how manage this? "Make two homes for yourself, my daughter: one actual home in your cell, that you go not running about into many places, unless for necessity, or for obe-dience to the prioress, or for charity's sake; and another spiritual home, which you are to carry with you always." This last, she con-tinues, is "the cell of true self-knowledge," embracing both the knowledge of God and the knowledge of self, "two cells in one. ¯ and when abiding in the one you must abide in the other, for oth-erwise the soul would fall into either confusion or presumption. For, if you rested in the knowledge of yourself, confusion of mind would fall upon you; and, if you dwelt in the knowledge of God alone, you would fall into presumption" (no. 49). Still within the uncompromising truth and love of Jesus, but with some relevant adaptation, she writes in a much different vein to Sir John Hawkwood, the English soldier of fortune who was the scourge of the Italian city-states. She begs him to leave "the service and pay of the devil., and take the pay and the cross of Christ crucified." He is a soldier; let him remain such, but let him now become Christ's knight: "I beg you, then, gently in Christ Jesus, that, since God and also our Holy Father have ordered a crusade against the infidels and [since] you take such pleasure in war and fighting, you should not make war against Christians any-more-- for that is wrong to God; but go against the infidels. For it is a great cruelty that we who are Christians, and members bound in the body of Holy Church, should persecute one another." And she concludes abruptly but quite aptly with a subtle undertone of warning against his soldiering altogether: "I beg you, dearest brother, to keep in memory the shortness of your time." Her final words are as usual: "Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love" (140). To that formidable woman of the world Queen Joanna of Naples, who first sided with Clement, then Urban, then with Review for Religious Clement again in their rival claims on the papacy, Catherine writes in a similar manner, but with deeper sorrow and fiercer passion: "Dearest Mother--mother, I say, insofar as I see you to be a faith-ful daughter of Holy Church--it seems to me that you have no mercy on yourself. Ah me! because I love you I grieve over the evil state of your soul and body. I would willingly lay down my life to prevent this cruelty. Many times I have written to you in compassion, showing you that what is shown you for the truth is a lie; and the rod of divine justice., is ready for you if you do not flee so great a wrong. It is a human thing to sin, but perseverance in sin is a thing of the devil . Be merciful, ah, be merciful to yourself]. I say no more to you. Remain in the holy sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love" (348). She writes differently to Gregory xI than at a later date she would write to Urban vI. Gregory was weak and vacillating, and so in her letters to hi~n she exhorts him to be "manly" and firm in his high office of supreme pontiff: "Be manly in my sight, and not timorous . I, Catherine. write you in his precious Blood, desiring to see you a manly man (uomo virile) without any servile fear." And, when Gregory hesitates in his resolve to return to Rome for fear of being poisoned there, Catherine reminds him that there are other, more terrible kinds of poison; and at any rate there's as much poison "on the tables of Avignon . as on those of Rome!" (229, 239). Urban, on the other hand, from the start of his pontificate was already betraying that spirit of anger and vindictiveness that would end in personal revenge, violence, and mt~rder. One had written to Catherine after the election of Urban: "It seems that our new Christ is a terrible man." In her first letter to him, Catherine appears to be aware of this and shapes her words accordingly: "Next I beg you, and constrain you by the love of Christ crucified, as to those sheep who have left the fold--I believe for my sins-- that, by love of that Blood of which you are made minister, you delay not to receive them in mercy, and with your benignity and holiness force their hardness; give them the good of bringing them back to the fold, and, if they do not ask it in true and perfect humility, let Your Holiness supply for their imperfection. Receive from a sick man what he can give you" (291). Religious life is to be lived "both with and without moderation." November-December 2000 Parmisano * "St. Catherine's Letters She writes to William Flete and other hermits at Laceto a gem of a letter begging them to leave for a time the peace and quiet of their forest retreat and come to Rome on pilgrimage in support of Urban. She desires them so to lose themselves as to seek "nor peace nor quiet elsewhere than in Christ crucified." If out of piety they are loath to leave their solitary life, they must know that there are woods and forests aplenty in and around Rome! (326). To Raymond of Capua, her Dominican soul brother and dearest friend, she writes in every which way: tenderly, pas-sionately, in joy, in anger; now as a scolding mother, now as his obedient daughter, now reproving him for cowardice and want of faith, now exposing her own weakness and want of love. And, often uncomfortably for Raymond, always she wants him together with herself to die a martyr: "I tell you, sweetest Father, that, whether we will or no, the time we are living in enjoins us to die, so do not live any longer." (333). Catherine's Human Love This last suggests one of two facets of Catherine's personality that may prove especially problematic for the modern reader of her letters, namely, the quality of her human love. The spontane-ity, passion, naturalness, and totality of her love for the Person of Christ is beyond question: she is quite literally consumed, body and soul, with love for Him, who is mad (pazzo), drunk (ebro) with love for her. But, when it comes to lesser*folk, her native inclina-tions seem to be oversupernaturalized, and her love may appear forced and lacking in the milk of human tenderness and warmth and understanding. This would explain the extreme discomfort she experiences when ordered by the Lord to leave her solitary life and give to others the same love that she gave to

Issue 57.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1998. ; rev lew for religio.us MARCH-APRIL 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 2 Review for Religious is a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spi~tuality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, practical; historical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: t~OPPEMA@SLU.EDU Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, .\'IN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1998 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to.copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This 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. religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial S.taff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean R~ad James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MARCH-APRIL 1998 " VOLUME 57 * NUMBER 2 contents 118 138 146 unique witness: a symposium Religious Life and the Eclipse of Love for God Edward Vacek SJ shows how there has been a certain eclipse of the love of God which also affects religious life. A Witness of Unique Witnessing Sidney Callahan sketches for us her perceptive laywoman's glimpse of religious life's present and future. Religious Life: Where Does It Fit in Today's Church? Doris Gottemoeller RSM presents an understanding of religious life as a dynamic and tested way within the church to follow Jesus Christ more closely and to serve him more generously. 161 169 spiritual renewal Creative Fidelity: Renewal in the Spirit of St. John of God Stephen de la Rosa OH reflects on the spirituality of the Brothers of St. John of God in the light of God's call to a creative fidelity. Journeying to Common Ground: Ira Progoff and Catholic Spiritual Renewal Francis Dorff OPraem reviews the integrating work of Ira Progoff in terms of its continuing importance for Catholic spiritual renewal. Review for Religious 174 180 meditative reflections The Lamb: A Johannine Meditation Patrick J. Ryan SJ enters us into a prayerful reflection of the beloved disciple advanced in years. What Were They Talking About? A Bethany Reflection Joseph G. Bachand MS offers a fresh interpretative reading of the Lucan passage about Martha and Mary which focuses the challenges of discipleship for all Christians. 186 report U.S. Hispanic Catholics: Trends and Works 1997 Kenneth G. Davis OFMConv, Eduardo C. Fern~indez SJ, and Ver6nica M~ndez RCD present a panoramic of the year's events within the U.S. Hispanic Catholic community. departments 116 Prisms 202 Canonical Counsel: The Evangelical Counsel of Chastity 208 Book Reviews prisms VV~hen Pope John Paul identified 1998 as a year especially focused on the Holy Spirit and his sanc-tifying presence within the community of Christ's disci-ples, he did not make use of thdword paraclete as a special identity-word for the Spirit. Yet this strange-sounding word paraclete holds meanings particularly appropriate for our Christian understanding of God, for our Lenten renewal, and for our premillennium preparation. The word paraclete becomes a kind of prism when it is used as a title for the Holy Spirit. Often in the English-language translations of the Gospel of St. John paraclete is retained as a direct transliteration of the Greek word, lit-erally meaning "one called alongside of." The first mean-ing favored in a reading of the Johannine Gospel is that of a defender, signifying someone like a defense attorney in a lawsuit. At other times the meaning is broadened by the translation of counselor, as in one who carefully listens and gives clarity and advice and support. Still another mean-ing which is frequendy found is captured in the word com-forter. A comforter is one who strengthens and upholds. Paraclete, then, can be viewed differendy, depending upon the plane of reflection, but all the meanings are rich in connotation for us as recipients of this personal paschal gifting of Christ. The church season of Lent provides us with the occa-sion to acknowledge ourselves as sinners in the presence of a just and compassionate God. But the Spirit as para-clete presents us with an image of God as the one who is the "defending lawyer"--the one who is spending his ener-gies defending us, in the face of any accusers we might have. God the Spirit is the one who gives this sense of Review for Relig%us divine presence as defender. As St. Paul would reflect, "If God is for us, who can be against us?" (Rm 8:31). Lent is also a time for us to seek counsel and assess the drives and ambitions, the values and the dreams that fill and motivate our life. Discernment of spirits in the decision making that structures our lives is a gift of the Spirit to all the members of the Christian community. A Vatican II church, trying to live out its agenda described in the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, has great need to call upon the discernment gift of the Counselor. We know that, in the sometime darkness of our attempt to live a Christian life in a world of differing values, our refuge is in seeking the counsel of a God so involved with us that his person is experienced as one who enlightens and guides. All too often we act fearfully or rashly, with little reliance on Christ's promise: "In that hour, say what you are inspired to say. It will not be yourselves speaking but the Holy Spirit" (Mk 13:11). Lent uncovers our weakness and fragility in our following of Christ. We, like the first apostles, are too ready to take flight in the face of temptation or opposition. Our actions do speak louder than our words, and to the eyes of secular society we might appear even to deny our faith. God enters into our lives at these times with the support and strength necessary for our Christian witness. We come to recognize our God especially as the one who confirms and con-soles. "By patient endurance you will save your lives" (Lk 21:19). In John's Gospel, Jesus describes the giving of the Spirit in terms of an abiding presence of "another" paraclete with us. In his Last Supper discourse, Jesus first applies the tide to himself by his using the word another, and then through the rest of the discourse he gives Paraclete over to the Holy Spirit as a proper name. The Spirit makes real to our human experience that God's presence is truly that ofparaclete--one who defends, one who counsels, and one who strengthens. Jesus, the pioneer for our faith life, inspires our confidence in such a God. Lent is the traditional time in the church for a renewed effort in our following Christ in the pattern of his paschal mystery. We, like Jesus, can only walk the road to Jerusalem if we are led by the Spirit. As we make our Christian preparations to enter into the 2 lst-century era with a renewed emphasis upon our evangelization efforts, we need to call upon God who is truly Paraclete for us. David L. Fleming SJ March-April 1998 unique witness a symposium EDWARD VACEK Religious Life and the Eclipse of Love for God What I propose to do is describe the relation of consecrated life to my favorite topic, love for God. The connection is not as easy as it might seem. Is it important to love God direcdy? I suppose most of us would answer, "Of course! This is the most important thing we can do." In view of this I think I should point out, before saying anything else, that lots of people, including Christians with impeccable credentials, do not think we need directly love God. Indeed, some positively discour-age it. After that I will describe at some length several ways we can love God. I will conclude with a few obser-vations how religious life should be a paradigm of Jesus' first great commandment. I hope to encourage those of us in religious life to exercise a much needed public wit-ness to a personal friendship with God. The Problem Since my topic sounds like an all-too-familiar and therefore boring sermon topic, let me put my theme in more provocative language: Religious communities have been and, to some degree, still are in danger of losing Edward Vacek SJ, professor of Christian ethics at Weston Jesuit School of Theology, presented this paper, here somewhat revised, at a symposium on Religious Life's Unique Witness held in October 1997 at the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth, Wernersville, Pennsylvania. His address is 3 Phillips Place; Cambridge, Massachusetts 02138. Review for Religious their souls. For the past forty years, we have been preoccupied with questions of lifestyle and governance, with examining past traditions and choosing new ministries. We had to do this. But these topics have tended to distract us from what is most central to our vocation. My concern is that we have shifted from being overly God-centered to being overly world-centered. At least we often talk as if that is the case. Our current silence about the possibil-ity of a direct love for God is worrisome because, when no one witnesses to this relationship, it will come to seem unimportant. If a "Jesus and me" spirituality too often forgot the neighbor, a "love your neighbor" spirituality can make us forget that God deserves all our love. The Origin of This Topic Before I go any further, let me relate how I came to this topic. I recently published a book on Christian love titled Love, Human and Divine.' I set out to show the connection between Jesus' first and second great commandments. Strange as it may seem, I found little in theology books on love for God. Sensitized by that dis-covery, I began to listen to how we post-Vatican II Catholics talk. When we use the phrase "love of God," we usually are referring to God's love for us and not our love for God. Classroom experience pushed my concerns further. I began to ask my students, many of whom are in religious life, this question: What do you mean by love for God? These students usually give one of four answers. First, those who are still dealing with legal-ism commonly say that loving God means not breaking any of the ten commandments. Second, other students say that love for God means taking care of the poor or the needy. Third, and most commonly, students say that loving God means being helpful to one's neighbor. Fourth, there are usually a few who have drunk deeply of our era's psychology, and they say that loving God means loving one's best or deepest self. Unfortunately, none of these replies answers my question. The first reply omits love, and all four omit God. Indeed, an atheist could give any of these replies. One of my most personally disturbing examples of this trend is very explicit. A student of mine, a young man about twenty-five years old, was finishing his master's thesis on the writings of a medieval mystic. He was fascinated by her sexual language of pen- March-April 1998 Vacek * Religious Life and the Eclipse of Love for God etration and indwelling. What h~ found distressing, however, was that this mystic wrote as if there was an inequality between her-self and the God she loved. Needless to say, I was surprised, so I asked him, "Do you really think we are equal to God? . Everyone knows," he replied with utter simplicity, "the word God is simply a symbol for the best in human life." His reduction of God to a symbol of the best in the world is, I suggest, an apt paradigm for the trend I am resisting. He is not alone. In a recent survey by the magazine U.S. Catholic, whose reader~ are mostly int~erested and involved Catholics, approximately fifty percent of people aged 36-55 said that we can be spiritual without any belief in God.2 Similarly, Sandra Schneiders has recently observed that many religious women and men have adopted a personal spirituality in which the central tenets and practices of Christianity have little place.3 For them spirituality means sitting in one's room listefii~ng to music or doing Zen. It means hiking in the fields or skiing in the mountains. It means getting a massage or enjoying a fine glass of wine. Anything that helps one to get calm and keep bal-anced in this crazy world is spirituality. As should be obvious, these "spiritual activities" can be accomplished relatively well without God. Causes for Decline How have we come to bracket off, even if only partially, a spirituality that is centered on love for God? I am sure there are hundreds of contributing factors, and I intend to discuss only some of the more obvious. Rather than focusing on any corrupt-ing influences from "the big bad world," I want to talk about rea-sons internal to the church's life. I will speak about the emphasis; in contemporary spirituality on the poor, the neighbor, and the' self. I will also point to difficulties people have with the church. Care for the Poor One of the great triumphs of our post-Vatican II world has been the renewed emphasis on care for the poor as essential to the practice of our faith. This concern for justice, however, may have been purchased at too great a price. Most people thought Mother Teresa was a saint and had this esteem for her precisely because of her work for the poor. Only in her death did I hear anyone Review for Religious say she had a deep prayer life. Mother Teresa also had a reputa-tion, whether deserved or not, of not even being concerned about the religious lives of those she served. Mother Teresa surely did an essential work of Christianity and did it far better than ninety-nine percent of us. Still, what is there in our contemporary religious mind that allows us to regularly praise care for the poor while practicing in print and in conversation a near total blackout concerning a person's love for God and her desire to help others love God? One reason lies in the theology of the "anonymous Christian" that captivated many of us after Vatican II. The attraction of this theology was that it motivated us to social justice and made it possible for us to be open-minded towards non-Catholics. The darling text of this theology is the familiar story of Matthew 25. W]aen people come before Jesus for their final judgment, he blesses them if they have given a cup of water to needy strangers. In amazement they reply that they did not know they were serving Jesus. Those judged for fail-ing to give the water imply that, if the thirsty person had been Jesus, they would have given the water gladly. Jesus rejects their plea. The conclusion drawn from this story by many theologians is that we should focus our care on needy human beings. They hold that we miss the point when we want to direct our attention explicitly to Christ. Of late, however, the theology of the anonymous Christian looks somewhat shopworn. It obscures why anyone should want to be explicitly a Christian. All the more, it makes baffling why anyone would want to enter religious life. This theology forgets that the meaning of our lives is greatly affected by the explicit personal relationships we have. And chief among these should be our love for God. If we care only for God's world, then our hearts will ultimately be restless. We need regularly to look God in the eye. That is called prayer. People sometimes say, "Love is not looking warmly into the eyes of another; rather, love is looking together out toward the world." But, if a woman I loved asked me why I never looked warmly into her eyes, I would feel justly accused. Similarly with God. How have we come to bracket off, even if only partially, a spirituality that is centered on love for God ? Marcia-April 1998 Vacek ¯ Religious Life and the Eclipse of Love fbr God Something is wrong with a theology in which Jesus' own prac-tice of prayer turns out to be un-Christian. Helping One's Neighbor For years after Vatican II, whenever I would preach or teach on the importance of loving our neighbor, heads would nod in agreement. Rarely if ever did someone object that I forgot to mention love for God. In recent years I have given several talks urging a direct love for God. Afterwards, almost always, some-one in the audience will ask why I did not talk more about love for our neighbor. In an attempt to be helpful, someone else will usually offer the clarification that the true "meaning" or "sign" or "test" of love for God is our love for our neighbor. And with that the audience will feel at ease again. Such experiences sug-gest to me that with Vatican II we recovered the second of Jesus' two great commandments, but we seem to have lost the primacy of the first. Let me relate an incident that happened several years ago. Late one evening a young Jesuit who had just moved into the community joined me for some apple pie. He was still feeling his way, and so he asked me whether the community was very spiri-tual. Not knowing what he meant by spiritual, I paused. He tried to clarify his question: "You know, is this a group of guys who are just interested in their studies, or are people really spiritual?" Thinking I now knew what he was asking, I replied that we have Mass in the house four days of the week, we join other commu-nities on two other days, and most of us have a ministry on Sunday. I began to name some other prayer and penance things we do, but at this point he interjected: "No, I didn't mean that stuff. I mean do the men care for one another." His practice bore out his concern. He was always one of the first to ask how my day had gone, and he was one of the last to find his way to chapel. This little encounter is an indicator of what I believe is a much wider phenomenon. If we talk only about love for our neighbor, we may be educating a generation of Christians who pay limited attention to an explicit love for God. Quite recently a friend of mine became quite perplexed during a theology course she was taking from a famous Rahner scholar. The teacher was explaining to the class that we love God in loving other people. She asked him whether we might also directly love God apart from loving people. The scholar said that he had never thought Review for P, eligious much about that. How, I asked myself, could this be? This man regularly says Mass, in which he directly addresses God; he also has, I presume, a good prayer life. But something in our present religious culture kept him from quickly recognizing that he directly relates to God all the time. This example is not isolated. I have gotten into several heated arguments with Christian scholars who deny that we can develop an interpersonal rela-tionship with God. Often they describe our Christian life as a sort of triangle: God's love comes down to us. Our love should not be directed back to God, but rather to our neighbor. Then God accepts that love as if for God's self. Daniel Maguire summarizes this position when he writes, "There can be no vertical love between us and God; we can only get to God horizontally through love of people.''4 As a consequence, some suggest that it is posi-tively un-Christian for us to try to love God directly. When formerly the first great commandment was in the ascendancy, we recognized that not a few saints were hard to live with, but we did not deny that they were saints. Not for nothing did the old quip say that a martyr is someone who has to live with a saint. Through much of the church's history, spiritual writers and theologians taught that the goal of Christian life was a deep love for God. Love for our neighbor was a clear second. Indeed, for St. Augustine, loving our neighbor was valuable only if it flowed from and promoted love for God. For him, we should not love our husband or our children if that love does not lead to love for God. Since Trent, however, a gradual turn has made love for this world--especially for our neighbor and now for our own self-- become the primary focus of love in Christianity. Prayer, then, is valuable if it gives us strength to love our neighbor. Or prayer is important if it helps us to find ourselves and develop our virtue. As a consequence, it has become nearly impossible to think that people could' be praying well if they are lacking in love for their neighbor or in some other virtue. Hence, one often hears the maxim that the true test even of mysticism is whether it leads to love for our neighbor. In other areas of life, we would not allow this slippage. In the case of a man marrying a widow, we would not deny his love for her if he could not muster love for her children. We would, of course, hope that he might come to love his stepchildren. But the true test of his love for her is his love for her, not his love for someone else. March-April 1998 Vacek ¯ Religious Life and the Eclipse of Love for God Emphasis on the Self The newfound emphasis in religious life on the self has been a third source of decline in talk of love for God. In my experience the tidal wave came in about 1963. Almost everywhere concern arose that the uniqueness and the needs of our individual selves were not being adequately taken care of. I remember well how one of my superiors tried to put a stop to this nonsense. He told the preacher of our annual eight-day retreat to focus on why it was not Christian to be concerned for the self. Needless to say, that retreatmaster did not succeed. The tide walls were crumbling, and the emphasis on the self that had been swelling over the cen-turies finally washed onto the mainland of religious life. A few years later almost all resistance had been washed away. Commonly, now, people come into religious life seeking per-sonal fulfillment. Either they find it, or they leave for greener pastures. Their personal happiness is the final criterion of all else. Such people often are very generous; but, according to their own account, they are generous because this brings them happiness. Our culture has deprived us of a way of saying openly that we help others because they need our help. Rather, we must say that we help others because we get so much out of doing it. Love for self has thus become central in our descriptions of everything we do. We even describe our love for God as important because it brings us the ultimate in happiness. Once upon a time Christian spirituality commonly proposed that self-love was sinful or nearly sinful. The Bible rarely, if ever, explicidy commends love for self. In fact, the Bible contains many passages that suggest we ought to forget or deny ourselves. By contrast, in recent years, love for self has perhaps become the first and last great commandment. We hear endlessly repeated the half-truth that we cannot love others, including God, unless we first love ourselves. We are encouraged to love others, includ-ing God, as a way of.achieving our own happiness. Thus, we talk as if love of self is the origin and the goal of all other loves. When this becomes the prevailing cultural context, love for God likely is treated as a "personal preference." That is, if love for God is interesting and worthwhile for a particular person, then that person may pursue it. But love for God is not thought to be essential or necessary for living a full human life. Few people would deny that someone who killed a neighbor has failed to live humanly, and most would say that a husband who does not love Review for Religious his wife and children is failing them. But not many would say that someone who does not love God fails to live in a fully human way. Love for God has become morally optional, to be pursued only to the degree that it fulfills us. Contemporary Catholicism One last reason for setting aside a direct love for God is the experience that many persons in religious life have of the church and of the God proposed by the church. For many, as Schneiders has recently said, the God of Christianity seems too small, too violent, and too male.s One does not readily want to enter into friendship with this God. Again, when the magisterium claims that its views are God's, those who feel abused by the church find it hard to get close to God. Recently these two alienating vectors came together when the Vatican said that the pope teaches infallibly that women cannot be ordained. With the shortcuts in logic that anger allows, a friend of mine concluded: "The Vatican infallibly teaches that God is unjust. So now you know why it is hard to pray to God." As a consequence of these dual alienations, some members of religious communities have given up on the Christian God. Even when people in religious life are more or less adequately centered in love for God, they seldom speak openly about that love. Oddly enough, religious people can be afraid of seeming, well, too religious. Outside of the classroom or the pulpit, many of us are quite slow to talk about God, and even when we do we seldom speak of our experience of God. Again, in the faith shar-ing that we do in our communities, our relationship to God is often unnamed. In religious life we have become more or less comfortable with talking about ourselves and our intracommu-nity dynamics; but we do not often talk about our own religious experiences of God. And spiritual directors sometimes seem less interested in our relationship with God than in our psychological or interpersonal concerns. In my pre-Vatican II novitiate days, we had silence almost the entire day. We were expected to take all that quiet and develop a habit of talking with God. Even then it seemed strange that, while Not for nothing did the old quip say that a martyr is someone who has to live with a saint. March-April 1998 Vacek ¯ Religious Life and the Eclipse of Love for God drinking afternoon coffee, we were not allowed to talk with the people standing next to us. Still, that awkward silence drilled in the point that we should try to talk with God throughout our day. That was then. I had a contrast experience at a retreat I directed for several young men before their ordination. Some of them---not all, by any means---spent their evenings and some of their days in conversation and even partying with one another. Somewhat puzzled, I inquired. I learned that they considered brotherhood far more important than time for prayer alone with God. The conclusion to the first half of these observations of mine is a worry. Ever since the Council of Trent and especially since Vatican II, a trend has been growing. That trend is the collapsing of the first great commandment into the second. Our silence about love for God has begun to be deafening. Love for God and Religious Life In this second half of my remarks, I want to look at a direct love for God. When doing spiritual direction, I am frequently awed by the close re, lationship that many people have with God. On the other hand, I am often both perplexed and distressed by the lack of that kind of relationship in the lives of so many other people, including women and men who have been in religious life for decades. These otherwise good persons may make occa-sional long-distance calls to God, but to them prayer seems like leaving messages on an answering machine in the sky. Intimacy with God is far away, something they no longer hope for and per-haps never did. If asked, they would say, "Oh, yeah, I believe in God." But they assert God's existence with the sort of conviction that one might have in asserting the existence of the planet Mars. It is something they have heard about, something they have no reason not to believe in, but not something that makes much dif-ference in their lives. Central Religious Concepts Every age has its central religious concept. For St. Paul it was faith in God. That concept has lost its teeth today. For Luther the key concept could be thought of as trust. While that still motivates many, it has for Catholics a forensic ring. I suggest that the ques-tion that can genuinely challenge all of us is this: Do you really Review for Religious love God? That question evokes an awareness of the endlessness and inadequacy of our heart's quest as well as the incomprehen-sibility and overwhelming goodness of God. Miguel de Unamuno insisted that our relationship with God must have emotional power. He writes: "Those who say that they believe in God and yet neither love nor fear him do not in fact believe in him but in those who have taught them that God exists. ¯. Those who believe that they believe in God but without any passion in their heart . . . believe only in the God-idea, not in God.''6 Unamuno's point is that many of us have a ten-dency to believe, not in God, but rather in a God-idea. Take, for example, what Unamuno says about fearing God. Since Vatican II we have so succeeded in putting across the idea that God loves us that the long biblical tradition of fear of God has all but disappeared. If, how-ever, we are really encountering God in our prayer, we will at times experience considerable fear and trembling. This fear is not so much a fear that God will punish us. Rather, it is a trembling before an utterly incomprehensible majesty. The concept of a loving God is something we can get cozy with. God is not. We human beings, of course, need good concepts. But we can substitute knowing the right concepts for knowing that to which they point. During my first stay in New York City, I lived in Queens with a priest who regaled me with all the fun things I could do in Manhattan. This went on for two months. One day, however, through an offhand remark he made, I discovered that he had not been to Manhattan for twenty years. He read several newspapers to find out about all the good things going in Manhattan, but he never went there. I fear that, like him, many Christians have many good ideas about God, but they never pay a visit. There has been something too easy about the way many of us changed our idea of God from a pre-Vatican punishing God to a post-Vatican God who unfailingly loves and forgives. It may be that all we have done is change our ideas, without really meeting the God who is Mystery. In the past those saints who seem gen-uinely to have known God indicated that God is experienced sometimes as warmly near but also at other times as wholly dis-tant, sometimes as compassionately forgiving but also at other Our first response is not to return love to God, but rather to let God's love affect or change us. March-April 1998 Vacek * Religious Life and the Eclipse of Love for God times as judging severely, sometimes as attractively good but also at other times terrifyingly awe-ful, and usually as a mixture of each. If we love God, we must love, not the idea of God, but this challenging, supportive, and finally incomprehensible Being. Direct Personal Love for God How does a love relationship with God develop? The first step is one that it seems women understand much more quickly than men. That step is to accept God's love for us. In other words, our first response is not to return love to God, but rather to let God's love affect or change us. The experience of being loved has its own transforming power, and we deny God's influence if we rush to return that love or to spread it among our neighbors. The popu-lar maxim can be repeated here: Don't just do something, stand there! Or better, sit there with your eyes closed and your hands open. So doing, we experience the beginning of our salvation. This acceptance of love is not easy. Not only are most of us a bunch of doers; we are also people who find it hard to receive love and let ourselves be touched by it. Many of us as counselors have spent hours encouraging people to overcome their self-hatred and to learn self-love. They have to learn to accept themselves, but they also have to learn how to "take in" acceptance from others since they expect only rejection or indifference. At times they refuse the sacrament of reconciliation because, at bot-tom, they cannot accept that someone would love them enough to forgive them. Preaching about the grace of acceptance, Paul Tillich said, "It strikes us when our disgust for our own being, our indifference, our weakness, our hostility, and our own lack of direction and composure have become intolerable to us . Sometimes at that moment a wave of light breaks into our darkness, and it is as though a voice were saying: 'You are accepted. You are accepted, accepted by that which is greater than you, and the name of which you do not know.'''7 In such moments we learn that there is some-thing lovable in us. We may not see it, but we accept the love of another whom we want to trust, and in that moment we begin to see the lovableness that God sees in us. After we have allowed God's love to touch us and thereby affirm our own worth and dignity, we want to respond by loving the One who loves us. This love unites us with God. It has both Review for Religious resting and dynamic qualities. That is, our love for God makes us want to be close to God and be at peace when we are close. It will not, though, let us rest for long, but moves us to want to delve ever more into God's goodness. Moreover, that love makes us want to co6perate with God in doing what God wants to do. And that leads us to be involved in redeeming creation. Hence, love for God in one phase moves us into God's infinite incom-prehensibility and in another phase moves us to both cherish the world and want to overcome its ills and injustices. Experience of Love for God One reason for replacing love for God with love for neighbor is that it seems somewhat impossible to love an invisible God. Even when we want to love God, we wonder how we might be sure that we are in fact loving God. These are real questions, but they should not deter us. Similar objections are sometimes raised about our love for fellow human beings. We are tempted to replace love for them with doing good deeds because good deeds are so much more visible than any heart-to-heart connection between spiritual persons. Nevertheless, we know that we do con-nect our invisible core with the core of those 'we love. We may never fully know the inner personhood of our friends, but we know enough to be able to love them. Indeed, our love for them always goes beyond what is visible. Similarly, we are rightly con-fident that we do love people, even if we cannot prove that love. In love, whether of God or of other human beings, or even love of ourselves, there are no sure tests. But within the experience of love we attain confidence that we are loving. What then is it to love God? We might begin by listening to two famous writers who described this love. William James depicted four stages of love for God.8 Our love for God begins with a felt sense, not an intellectual belief, of an Ultimate Power. We feel that we belong to a Sphere of Life that transcends our ordinary day-to-day interests and expands our life. Second, we feel that this Ultimate Power is not distant from us but rather is near to us. We sense that, as Blaise Pascal once observed, the reason we seek God is that God has already found us. Third, we willingly surrender ourselves to this Ultimate. We say yes to God's pres-ence, and we willingly hand ourselves over to God. That is, instead of thinking about God, we fall in love with God. Lastly, our emo- ~Ylarch-April 1998 Vacek ¯ Religious Life and the Eclipse of Love for God 130J tional center shifts towards loving and harmonious affections towards the rest of creation. We tend to say yes rather than no to the world about us. With hearts overflowing, we are freed from our usual tendency to judge or criticize others. Rather, we want to affirm the world as God's world. Moses Maimonides, the great medieval Jewish philosopher, gives a more personal account. He writes that anyone who loves God "is like a lovesick man whose mind is never free from his love for a certain woman and grows in it whether sitting or rising, both when eating and drinking---greater even than this must be the love of God in the heart of his lovers who continually grow more fervent . The whole of the Song of Songs is an allegory on this theme."gMaimonides compares love for.God with the passion that men have for the women they love, only greater. What kind of passion is that? Lovers constantly think of one another, constandy try to please one another. Similarly, those who love God find their minds returning to God whenever there is a lull in their day; they regularly converse with God when they want to talk with some-one; and they periodically dream up ways of doing things that are pleasing to God. Gradually, their attention to God becomes a per-vasive feature of their whole emotional life. Let me put the same point in a slightly different way. If we imagine vividly that some living person we really love has actually died, can we imagine not feeling the loss? Of course not. We might find ourselves, in imagination, being depressed for months and then only gradually .putting our lives back together. Now, imagine that God were to die tonight. If this impossibility could happen, would we desperately miss God? Would we be profoundly sad that God is no longer part of our life? If so, then love for God is central in our lives. When we love God like this, it involves much more than occa-sional prayers tossed towards the heavens. Rather, it becomes deeply rooted in us. It pervades and motivates moments of quiet peace but also moments of furious activity. This love for God becomes the dominant, organizing, emotional center of our whole lives. We meet God in sunsets, in the Bible, in the Eucharist, in friends who call to ask how we are doing, in the homeless man who lies under cardboard begging for a quarter. These encounters with God in the world depend upon other times when our rela-tionship to God is not so mediated. Then we are more like Moses who used to talk with God "face-to-face, as one speaks to a Review for Religio~ts friend" (Ex 33:11). Without this face-to-face talk, we are in dan-ger of becoming like those parents who devote themselves com-pletely to their children, only to realize one day that they no longer love one another as husband and wife. Since Vatican II we in religious life have worked hard to develop a spirituality of finding God in our service of people in the world. (And more needs to be done.) But in the process the explic-itly "God and me" and "God and us" aspects of our spirituality have often been neglected. The phrase "Jesus and I" has become a term of derision. Rather, we need not only Jesus' second great commandment--loving our neighbor as ourselves--but also Jesus' first great commandment: loving God with our whole mind and heart and soul and strength. We need as well the connection between these two. That connection appears chiefly when we sense ourselves to be acting with God, to be God's partners. Friendship con-sciously grows when friends do things chiefly because they are friends. The same is true in our relationship with God. We want to do things with God as a way of being friends of God. Love for God, of course, is not a once-and-for-all sort of affection. There may be periods of rapid and intense growth. Then come periods when we just maintain our relationship. The quiet periods prepare the way for a deeper relationship that we cannot force, but which we can hope for. Gradually this love more and more informs who we are. We begin, so to speak, to check in with God about everything we do. Most of us would criticize a husband who accepted a job in another city without first dis-cussing the move with his wife. But not all of us, when asked to do a new job, would quickly ask ourselves how this new task would affect our relationship with God. Deep lovers of God sponta-neously ask that question. Doubtless, we have to "work" at this relationship with God. We know that loves can be false,/and we know that we can deceive ourselves. Still, the idea of testing love is foreign to the experience of loving. We have no need of "tests" when we find ourselves wanting to spend time with God or still moved .by God's word spoken to us. Then, with the reality of our relationship assured, Those who love God find their minds returning to God whenever there is a lull in their day. L13-I -- March-April 1998 Vacek * Religious Life and the Eclipse of Love for God all we need examine regularly is its quality. We use our examen of consciousness to become more attentive to God's graciousness to us and to learn how to co.operate better in God's work. Love for God, like any great love, has a certain relativizing quality. We evaluate other things in the light of this great love. On the one hand, worldly goods become more valuable as God's crea-tures and as gifts we recognize as coming from God. On the other hand, these creatures no longer dominate our consciousness. Not only wealth, success, power, but also more personal things like the development of our talents, devotion to our friends, and even our own happiness take a subordinate place. In Ignatian language, we personally value them when they support our relationship with God; and we set them aside when they do not. Finally, anyone who has been in love with another human being knows that there is a quiet satisfaction whenever we make sacrifices for the one we love and a deep pleasure when we make extravagant gestures on behalf of our love. We spend all night in the hospital at the bedside of our beloved, and we want to do so. We sell our precious gold watch to buy a set of combs for our beloved's wonderful hair. Similarly, love for God leads all of us to make sacrifices such as fasting and to engage in extravagant ges-tures such as liturgy, and do all with joy. Kinds of Love Let me now describe three different forms of this love for God, and then I will try to relate them to religious life. I call them agape, eros, and pbilia. Normally we have these three all mixed together, but I want to name them because each at times has a separate claim on us. Agape, as I use the term, means to love something for its own sake. So, with an agapic love for God, we love God for God's own sake and are not concerned for our own benefit. There is an extremely provocative and stark question that illustrates this kind of love: If it would please God just a bit, would you be willing to suffer in hell forever? This question was put to those who wanted to become Calvinist divines. St. Francis de Sales put this question to himself. The question clarifies very quickly whether we love God for our sake or for God's sake. Agape is represented by the cross of Christ. That cross indi-cates that we may have to give up our lives in order to be faith- Review for Religious ful to God. An agapic love for God is essential to religious life. Our vows express a willingness to give up family, wealth, and free-dom as an expression of our agapic devotion to God. Needless to say, none of us ever achieves that complete devotion, but the vows indicate our willingness to do so. Second, eros. Those of us who resist the Calvinist question I just asked will be relieved to know that the Catholic Church con-demns the teaching that we must have only an agapic love for God. Rather, we may also have an eros relationship with God. Some of us will remember the act of contrition we once said when we went to confession. We prayed that we were heartily sorry for our sins because we dreaded the loss of heaven and the pains of hell, but most of all because they offended God. Our sorrow about offending God was an expression of agape. Our dread about los-ing God and going to hell was an expression of eros. Eros means loving someone rather much for our own sake. An eros love for God is a genuine love. It is a biblical love, and it is quite Catholic. We love God for the good we gain in being close to God. Since we can never be completely fulfilled by creatures, we will always be inclined to have this sort of love for God. Our religious vows say that we will not seek for completion in family, in wealth, or in independent control of our lives. Doubtless, we may in fact find more completion in our friendships than many married people do in their spouses; doubtless, almost all of us have access to more wealth than most of the world's population; and doubtless, each of us has considerable independence and sta-tus. But, if we are true to our religious commitment, we seek completion in none of these, but chiefly and finally in God. Thus an eros love for God is essential to religious life: we are people who point to an eschatological fulfillment in God. Third, we have a philia love when we love God for the sake of the covenant we share with God. Our Jewish ancestors formed covenants with God, and through baptism we Christians form a new covenant with God. We are God's people, and God is not just the God of creation but also our God. This covenant, when founded on love, can be imaged as a sort of friendship. Through this friendship with God, we share life with God. We are con-cerned about the things of God and God is concerned about our things, and both are concerned for the friendship itself. Because of this friendship we Christians do religious things like sing in church. The difference between ourselves and unbelievers is not ~/larch-April 1998 Vacek ¯ Reli~ous Life and the Ech'pse of Love for God only that we do such specifically religious activities, but also that we want to make all our activities be part of our relationship to God. Thus, we want God to rest with us at the seashore and to ladle soup through us at the local homeless shelter. A philia love for God is central in religious life. We want this friendship to be the first thing that comes to mind in the morn-ing and the last thing at night. Just as married persons want to call home when they are away at a convention, so we want to check in with God throughout the day: Religious life makes little sense without this friendship with God. Indeed, as I shall next suggest, religious life symbolizes this relatively unmediated friendship. Religious Life Could the church survive without religious life? Of course it could. Judaism covenanted with God without religious-life com-munities. So did the very early church, and so do many contem-porary Protestant churches. If all communities of religious were suppressed tomorrow, the church would go on. But in a church such as ours---a sacramental church with such diversity of gifts in its members---religious life in one form or another is almost inevitable. Indeed, a case could be made that religious life should someday be recognized, like marriage, as a sacrament because of what it adds to the church and world. What thin does it add? One answer might be that religious communities provide a place for a lot of kooky people, and that answer would not be too far wrong. The normal pattern for human beings is to marry, gain some security through property, and make significant decisions for themselves. When people are forbidden to marry, are deprived of property, or have their own important decisions made for them by others, we protest the violation of their basic human rights. We assert that these are basic goods needed for human fulfill-ment. Some people, however, although they are as psychologi-cally healthy as other people, have a peculiar passion to devote their lives to developing a relationship with God, a passion that relativizes their need to fulfill themselves through these basic human goods and makes it somewhat easy to set them aside. Such people may not be specially gifted at developing this relationship with God. Still, they are strongly attracted to try to do so through a life set apart to foster this devotion. They are like artists who just have to step out of the mainstream to pursue Review for Religious their passion. Further, they are attracted to other people who share this same passion. They are like the eggheads who gather at universities with others of similar intellectual bent because they feel at home with such heady people. Religious life, then, is a life shared by people who have a sometimes consuming passion for developing a relationship with God and who are willing to struc-ture their lives to ensure that this passion be fostered above all others. The church officially structures this form of life in order to publicly symbolize both to its members and to the world at large this desire for friendship with God. Obviously, few of us religious are dedicated exclusively to God. Indeed, it would be wrong to do so, since we should also be dedicated to the betterment of the world. Perhaps obviously, too, many married and single persons have developed a relationship to God that puts us to shame. But people do not ordinarily get mar-ried or stay single in order to pursue a passion for God. These two life patterns are not publicly structured to foster a passion for God, and such passion is not essential to their meaning. People do, however, enter religious life because of the pull of this very pas-sion. They join other people who, because of a similar passion, have left all to follow Christ. Without this love, their life pattern lacks its basic meaning. Accordingly, just as a married man fails if he does not love his wife, so too communities of religious women and men fail if they do not live explicitly and publicly--not just implicitly and consequentia!ly--from and for this primary relationship to God. Each pattern of life symbolizes different and essential Christian tasks. Marriage symbolizes Jesus' second great commandment, and religious life symbolizes the first. Both are necessary; and so, in the living of those respective vocations, the lines reverse. Married people must come to love God in and through their spouse, and persons in religious life must come to love their neigh-bor in and through God. Jesus was a man with a passion for God. Put a little more ele-gantly, Jesus was filled with God's Spirit. At the beginning of his public life, that Spirit led him out into a desert, away from peo-ple. That Spirit sometimes led him to leave his preaching and healing in order to be alone with God. That Spirit enabled him to go up to Jerusalem, thereby forgoing years.of ministry, in order to remain faithful to his Abba, even unto death on the cross. Ministry was not the center of his life, but only the consequence March-April 1998 Vacek ¯ Religious Life and the Eclipse of Love for God of living out of that center. The center of his life was his rela-tionship with his Abba. I said at the outset that religious life may be in danger of los-ing its soul. Perhaps now, at the end of my remarks, my inflam-matory language can be better understood and properly contextualized. Religious life, as I understand it, is directed essen-tially to an immediate love relationship with God. It is directed to the God who, to be sure, may be found and cherished in all things. But, more primordially, it is directed to the God who has a life and personhood that utterly transcend this world. Religious life points to this transcendent God by being a life that, without this rela-tionship to God, does not make sense. Indeed, as Karl Rahner argued, it would be immoral to choose this way of life without this relationship to God.1° The various works we do, for example, helping the poor or teaching children, in fact make a lot of sense quite apart from a relationship to God. These works may not be particularly attractive, but the sheer fact of human dignity makes them meaningful, even to atheists. Thus, even when we are engaged heart and soul in these works, our life must also offer something more. We must offer the crucially needed public wit-ness that this world is not all there is. Rather, belonging to the God who is beyond all creatures is the final meaning of life. We at times forget this important witness. Sometimes I put a question to men and women religious: Where is the kingdom of God to be found? In recent years they usually answer with the biblical text that the kingdom of God is within or in our midst (Lk 17:20-21). However, when the New Testament answers this ques-tion about the kingdom of God, it usually says that the kingdom of God is in some time and place other than this one.1~ In other words, it is chiefly .eschatological. Sometimes, too, I inquire about the meaning of the religious vows in our day. Contemporary men and women religious tend to praise the vows for giving us greater availability for this-worldly service. It is true that, for most of us most of the time, the vows do just this. But this view is incomplete for at least two reasons. First, there will be times when one or another vow will in fact prevent us from helping those who need love or material goods or our independent commitment. Second, other people without our vows often do greater works than we. Indeed, they sometimes do so because they have a spouse to help them or possessions to give away or the independence to change their commitments. Thus, Review for Religious our vows usually will help our ministry, but they do not always do so and, more importantly, that is not their primary meaning. Our vows have meaning on a different plane. Again, religious life has an eschatological quality. It is this quality that finally makes sense of the ascetic, other-worldly character of our religious vows. These vows point to the God who lives in unapproachable light, and these vows give witness to the Christian possibility of friend-ship with this incomprehensible God. I have suggested that since Vatican II there has occurred what I call an eclipse of love for God, an eclipse that has cast its shadow not only over the secular world, but over religious life as well. I have also urged that we step out of this shadow and live once again in the strong and direct sunlight of a friendship with God. Indeed, if we bask in the light and warmth of this Sun, not only may religious life attract new members, but it will have a soul that is fully alive and thus is the glory of God. Notes t Washington: Georgetown University Press, 1994. 2 U.S. Catholic 62, no. 10 (October 1997): 19. 3 Sandra Schneiders IHM, "Congregational Leadership and Spirituality in the Postmodern Era" (an address to the Leadership Conference of Women Religious, 23 August 1997), in Review For Religious 57, no. 1 (January-February 1998): 22. 4 Daniel Maguire, The Moral Core of Christianity (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993), p. 221. s Schneiders, "Congregational Leadership," p. 21. 6 Miguel de Unamuno, The Tragic Sense of Life, trans. J.E. Crawford Flitch (New York: Dover, 1954), p. 193. 7 Paul Tillich, Shaking of the Foundations (New York: Scribner's, 1948), p. 162. 8 William James, Varieties of Religious Experience (New Hyde Park, N.Y.: University Books, 1963), pp. 272-300. 9 Moses Maimonides, "Yad, Teshubah" (X, I-3), in The Teachings of Maimonides, ed. Abraham Cohen (New York: KTAV Publishing House, 1968), pp. 113-114. t0 Karl Rahner SJ "Reflections on a Theology of Renunciation," Theological Investigations, vol. 3 (New York: Crossroad, 1982), pp. 47-57. it E.P. Sanders, The Historical Figure of Jesus (London: Penguin, 1993), p. 176. ~larcb-April 1998 SIDNEY CALLAHAN A Witness of Unique Witnessing Recently I was invited to speak to a conference of male and female religious. My charge was to reflect upon the unique identity of the religious vocation and comment upon the prospects of religious life in a complex, pluralistic society--in particular, will the current intellectual trends toward fragmented postmodo ernist thinking be a devastating challenge for religious vocations? This assignment was a new challenge for me since heretofore I as a laywoman had never focused much attention on the men and women presently pursuing a vocation of voluntary poverty, celibacy, and obedience to a rule. Most of my concerns in the church have heretofore been focused on larger issues of faith and authority as related to women, sexuality, family, and ethics. To fulfill my assignment I had to read furiously in the huge lit-erature devoted to postmodernist thought, and then I had to find out how other observers analyze what is going on within reli-gious orders in the waning of our millennium. After reflecting upon the troubling challenges, I also wanted to give the group my outsider's perspectives on the positive achievements of reli-gious life. First, it must be admitted that postmodernism, however dif-ficult it is to define, is a confusing and widespread intellectual movement of our time. And the least acquaintance with this trend, in whatever field it is encountered, can assure a person that, yes, Sidney Callahan .participated in the October 1997 symposium at Wernersville, Pennsylvania, on Religious Life's Unique Witness. Here she offers an expanded revision of her Commonweal article of 5 December 1997: "Nunsuch? Reviving Religious Communities." She may be addressed at Hudson House, Box 260; Ardsley-on-Hudson, New York 10503. Review for Religqous this wave of skepticism about knowledge or universal truths will make traditional faith and the religious vocation even more dif-ficult to pursue. In its strongest forms postmodernist thought asserts that no universal reality exists or can be known. Older modernist asser-tions in Western thought that rational and scientific methods can produce knowledge are thrown out as inadmissible. Worse still, there is nothing much to be explored besides the various "lan-guage games" that people learn to use in their own specific cultures. In postmod-ernist thought, it is language and culture that construct reality, and so biology and science are discounted. Human beings are trapped in their own time and culture, and so no meaningful universal truth claims can be trusted. Postmodernism pushes its adher-ents, who mostly populate elite academic literature departments, into a moral rela-tivism and suspicion of affirmations of truth, including, of course, religious truth. Unfortunately, the existence of a self, or human nature, is also believed to be con-structed by language and culture, so any and all self-identities must be tentative and temporary. True moral agency, or the pos-sibility of permanent commitments and promise making or promise keeping, disappears. While this modern reincarnation of radical skepticism may puncture claims of antireligious secular orthodoxies, it does believers little good. In the general darkness of uncertainty and ambiguity, there may be some room for silence and mystery, and there may be opportunities for hearing new voices from below, but the overall effect of the new worldview is still a negative one for all believers in a self-disclosing God of truth and love. Happily, the postmodernist movement is, I think, not going to last much longer, much less triumph among our academic intel-lectual elites. Skepticism eventually self-destructs, since it asserts that there can be little point in intellectual inquiry or argument. Recently many scientific and intellectual countermovements can be seen surging back toward a critical realism which affirms that a common human nature exists and that, yes, certain moral truths can be known with at least virtual certainty. Interestingly enough, The overall effect of the new worldview is still a negative one for all believers in a self-disclosing God of truth and love. ~/larcb-April 1998 Callahan ¯ A Witness of Unique Witnessing --!:40J some feminist philosophers have been quick to see that, if noth-ing is morally true beyond a culture's boundaries, then feminists can have no foundation for their efforts toward the liberation of women from oppression. But in the meantime a creeping cultural fog of doubt, skep-ticism, and moral relativism moves down into the popular cul-ture and makes dealing with modern young people difficult. Many teachers report that their students find themselves unable to affirm that even the Nazi genocide was really, truly, morally wrong. Tentativism, skeptical detachment, and seeing life as consisting of senseless fragments take over the popular mind. In such an intellectual climate, any faith, especially the faith needed for a religious vocation, faces a problem of commitment. As it is for the church at large, the end of the millennium is a rather unset-tled ¯ time for vowed religious. Why so? And what can be done about it? Here too there is no shortage of articles on why the numbers of new vocations to religious orders are declining and why so many vowed religious left their orders after the Second Vatican Council. Certainly some perspective on the present can be gained by looking at the changes in religious life over the cen-turies. I received an eye-opening view of the history of religious orders by reading Jo Ann Kay McNamara's Sisters in Arms: Catholic Nuns Through Two Millennia. Throughout the last two thousand years, the forms of reli-gious life in the church have constantly evolved--along with their being by turns accepted and persecuted by people outside and inside the church. As historical conditions altered and Christianity spread, religious life adapted to various circumstances and cul-tures. New orders were founded and still are being founded, and new ministries were, and are, constantly undertaken. It does not take much acumen to conclude that present developments, how-ever turbulent, may be one more transitional phase. Today the major challenge for vowed religious involves the assimilation of Vatican II's teachings and reforms. If now, for instance, religious life is no longer theologically exalted above other states of life in the church and, in particular, is no longer judged a more perfect way to holiness, a way superior to mar-riage, then why make the sacrifices involved? If, in addition, laypersons can fulfill all the ministries within the church and in the world that vowed religious used to perform, why join a religious community to serve God and neighbor? Review for Religious Some writers analyzing religious life today see what is hap-pening as a necessary purification: the vowed religious life is being purged of temptations to pride and comfort that its revered sta-res as "a vocation" once occasioned. Now there is no more mys-tique, and no more lifelong security complete with an assured slot in some fully staffed religious institution. The professional-ization of many jobs in hospitals, colleges, and social agencies has meant the need for secular credentials. Religious cannot auto-matically count on ministries that give them a sense of fulfillment or on having access to the economic resources needed to support their communities. Parishes love to have a generic "sister" toiling in their vineyard, but appear less willing to pay her a living wage. For theologian Sandra Schneiders, contemporary religious life is being stripped to its essential meaning. Without any of the old privileges, reli-gious must recognize once again the "naked God-quest in the center of their hearts," which makes an "exclusive and total demand upon them in consecrated celibacy, voluntary poverty, community, and corporate mission" (Schneiders, p. 518). Present declines in numbers or disturbances in morale may be a painful transforming process, similar to the suffering of a dark night of the soul; such a dying may be neces-sary for new life to emerge, perhaps in new forms. Yet fidelity to the God-quest must be maintained and can have its own benefi-cial effects for the church. Agreed. As a married layperson I can affirm the witness of the religious vocation for strengthening the rest of the faithful community in a confusing time. Yes, the life of holiness seems to be much the same whatever the path taken toward the goal; either laypersons or religious end up with a family resemblance to Christ. Yet lay and religious vocations are different. I view vowed religious vocations as a condensed, crystallized, intensely focused, institu-tionalized, corporate embodiment of every Christian's call to love God and one's neighbor wholeheartedly. The totality of the life commitment of a religious vocation and the personal sacrifices entailed give testimony to the fact that God's kingdom exists beyond time and space, beyond what we Parishes love to have a generic "sister" toiling in their vineyard, but appear less willing to pay her a living wage. March-April 1998 Callahan * A Witness of Unique VVitnessing can see and touch or recognize as commonsense strivings. Vowed religious directly imitate Christ's life of public ministry, an ascetic life undertaken for the sake of the whole church as a corporate communion. The Roman Catholic Church, in the words of Sebastian Moore, can be acknowledged as the only "world-wide and world-old institution dedicated to changing the world." Religious give their all to a ministry of worship and loving service to the world. Today, in our disordered complicated society, we need good corporate institutions to work toward justice and human flour-ishing. American individualists are rather blind to the importance of struggling for good institutions and social realities. Only orga-nized communities can use their collective synergy to fight against the structural oppressions and powers of "social sin." The the-ologian Walter Wink has interpreted St. Paul's references to fight-ing against "powers and principalities" as the struggle against those larger social structures and forces that unjustly oppress peo-ple. Christians must fight against these powers, against such social structures as unfair economic markets, or racial and sexual prej-udices, or exploitations of the poor, or entrenched ignorance, or rampant consumerism peddled by the all-encompassing media. Social systems harm innocent people and the earth's environment. Such structural entities have enormous power, and they usually operate beyond the control of even good individuals caught up within the system. Religious orders can use their corporate strength arising from their collective commitment to work for the conversion and transformation of the world. Vowed celibacy is crucial to the religious vocation. Erotic energy dedicated to loving God within the community and focused upon the corporate mission can be incredibly potent and fruit-ful. Celibacy does not repudiate sexuality, but rather affirms the values of friendship and the worth of embodied lives beyond sex-ual reproduction orreplication of one's genes. Religious orders do replicate themselves in their spiritual children, who join because they agree with the goals of the religious family. In genetic par-enting and family life, children do not always agree with their parents' commitments. Religious life attests to the good news that in the kingdom gender roles become subservient to personal identity since in Christ there is neither male nor female. This affirmation of per-sonhood, friendship, and work beyond gendered conventions has Review for Religious been particularly important for women's self-esteem and flour-ishing. The history of women's religious orders is replete with instances of women who went against their culture and were able to assume leadership roles that use their talents in original ways. Moreover, if sexual reproduction, sexual fulfillment, and mat-ing no longer are the only human ways to validate bodily exis-tence, then human beings who do not mate and reproduce--babies, the young, the old, the ill, the handicapped--are symbolically affirmed as valuable members of the human family. I see vowed celibacy as an incest tabu adopted in order to count everyone as one's family and kin. A no to one mate and sexual pair-bonding flees persons to love more inclusively. The risks undertaken and the permanent vows that religious make also help to strengthen the permanent vows of married persons. Marriage and family life are definitely schools of love, but to be true to family claims most persons are limited in what they can give to the larger church and civic community. There is only so much time, money, and energy available in one life. There are also limits to the suf-fering and sacrifices that a person can justifiably ask of a spouse or the dependent members of the family. To love is to suffer with others, and this happens in every state of life, but religious can be freer to suffer more. They can spend themselves more daringly for the coming of the kingdom in the larger community. The cor-porate support of their religious brothers and sisters can sustain them in enterprises beyond the capabilities of individuals or of most families. It is no accident that the majority of modern Christian martyrs have been vowed religious serving as mission-aries in dangerous territories. Voluntary poverty in the religious vocation also serves as a wit-ness against the greed and love of money ingrained in our materi-alistic consumer culture. Corporate religious groups can be more free to operate by the rule of just care: from each according to his or her gifts and to each according to individual need. Religious orders can struggle for justice more freely when all of their mem-bers are committed to the same ideals of love and charity--and are willing to pay the price to deploy their forces. Often Christians I see vowed celibacy as an incest tabu adopted in order to count everyone as one's family and kin. March-April 1998 Callaban ¯ A Witness of Unique Witnessing must voluntarily take on morally necessary suffering in order to heal, to do the works of mercy, or to end oppression. Religious who obey community authority for the sake of their vocation witness to the existence of the authority of God's truth as well as to the importance of persevering in an intentional com-munity. Ideals of authority are in ill repute, but are no less nec-essary to common endeavors for all that. Unfortunately, our culture worships individual liberty, autonomy, control, and lives of hyperprivacy. A permanent commitment to communal life beyond mate and family is a startling countercultural witness. Such staunch commitment to social cohesion also helps give civic society backbone, providing corporate groups that can medi-ate or stand between individuals and the state. The new label for the existence of enduring social ties of interdependency is "social capital." Who in a community can count on what ties and what sources of help when needed? A civil society and a civilization depend upon these invisible but powerful connections. Religious orders generate all kinds of social capital for the kingdom along with their dedication to God. The corporate wit-ness of an order with its customs, traditions, and rituals builds up energy and esprit to act effectively against obstacles. So, in the course of religious i'enewal today, we find religious orders reemphasizing their corporate identities, refocusing on their dis-tinct ministries, reinstating collective commitment rituals, and recognizing their need for common worship, common symbols, and a common life. The love and support of one's brothers and sis-ters make the religious vocation possible--and powerful. A group commitment strengthens individuals. Religious faith may be more risky today for everyone. I do not think that the risk arises from conflicts between belief and natural science as was true in the 19th century. But social and psychological disci-plines, and postmodern intellectual currents, can be challenging by making persons doubt their own religious experiences. Collective experiences of worship ~and community experiences of work and love can ground religious experiences as well as give witness to the world. To use a phrase stolen from Paul Ricoeur, I would say that what religious life can produce today is "the intelligibility of hope" for the church. New creative forms may be evolving, but they will come about not by legislated commands from higher church hierarchies, but from faithful listening to the Holy Spirit. God Review for Religious is a God of surprises, so we cannot know how the next millennium will play itself out. But I am quite sure that the church will con-tinue to be blessed with the survival and revival of religious voca-tions, thanks be to God. Selected Sources Albert Borgmann. Crossing the Postmodern Divide. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992. Joseph J. Feeney sJ. "Can a Worldview Be Healed? Students and Postmodernism." America 177, no. 15 (15 November 1997): 12-16. Jo Ann Kay McNamara. Sisters in Arms: Catholic Nuns through Two Millennia. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1996. Thomas Guarino. "Postmodernity and Five Fundamental Theological Issues." Theological Studies 57, no. 4 (December 1996): 654-689. Sandra M. Schneiders IHM. "Contemporary Religious Life: Death or Transformation?" Crosscurrents (Winter 1996-1997): 510-535. Personal Interpretation In sleep-warped nights of dreams and hauntings, L to satisfy my pride, my lust, my greed, had made a god in image of my need. Light dawned, but false, beneath a man-made sky. Then I felt more: some Thing, some One - Benign; not There, but Here - Beside. I came to part unpracticed lips and dry unyielding heart: I brought myself to pray, to ask a sign. Enough to shake my disbelief, there then occurred events beyond all chance that still offend my rationality, my will. Reluctant, though, I start to doubt again. That sign, so clear, at mercy of my wit: how will I choose to now interpret it? Stephen Eric Smyth FMS March-April 1998 DORIS GOTTEMOELLER Religious Life: Where Does It Fit in Today's Church? l/lA " t I say in this article is as much about the church as it ¥ ¥ is about religious life. Stated more fully, my question is: What is the place, the distinctive identity and function, of religious life in the church today? What is unique about this vocation in our post-Vatican II church? What witness and service do religious offer that other members of the church do not offer? Or, more colloquially, what is the point of being a religious sister or brother today?~ To throw some light here is also to illuminate the nature of the church itself in our post-Vatican II understanding. We can approach our question in three parts, dealing with (1) the origin of the question, (2) the significance of the question, and (3) some suggestions for a response. Origin of the Question First of all, where does this question come from? A few dozen years ago, before the Second Vatican Council, the status and role of religious were well known. Their status was characterized as a way of perfection, and their role was to devote themselves to min-istries such as prayer (in contemplative orders, more or less full-time) and teaching, nursing, and caring for orphans and the elderly. Their state of life contrasted with two other available options, the lay and clerical states. Doris Gottemoeller RSM, president of the Sisters of Mercy of the Americas, last appeared in our journal in January-February 1996. Her address is 8300 Colesville Road #300; Silver Spring, Maryland 20910. Review for Religious An implicit hierarchy seen in these states had the laity at the bottom and the clergy at the top. It was better to be a religious than to be a layperson, and even better to be a priest. (So if a lit-tle boy confided to his teacher that he was interested in becom-ing a brother, she was apt to say, "Why don't you go all the way and become a priest?") What has changed, so that the question of meaning and purpose has become so urgent? First, the council, in its Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, Lumen gentium, "flattened out" this hierarchy of states by affirming the fundamental equality of all Christians, rooted in baptism. "All the faithful of Christ of whatever rank or status are called to the fullness of the Christian life and to the perfection of charity," and "all of Christ's followers [are] invited and bound to pursue holiness and the perfect fulfillment of their proper state.''2 Only later did many begin to ask a bothersome question: If it is not better, that is, more perfect, to be a religious than a layper-son, why make the sacrifice inherent in a lifetime commitment to the vows? The council also triggered a proliferation of ministries, as the faithful were called in a new way to be responsible for the mission of the church. The closing exhortation of the Decree on the Apostolate of the Laity, Apostolicam actuositatem, calls on all the laity to be coworkers with Christ in the various forms and meth-ods of the church's one apostolate. Formerly, the apostolate of the laity was described as a participation in the apostolate of the hierarchy; now the laity were called to the apostolate in their own name, in union with the whole church. The gradual adoption of the word ministry, often used in the plural, spoke to a new sense of a myriad of liturgical, catechetical, and pastoral works in which church members were called to engage, whether on an occasional, part-time, or full-time basis. Amidst this plurality of ministries, the restoration of the lay diaconate introduced a group of persons whose role is still not clearly differentiated from other roles. A recent national study of the permanent diaconate reports: "In their written-in comments more than a few deacons complained that they are too often thought to be either 'incomplete priests' or 'more advanced laity.'''3 Many deacons wonder whether ordination is necessary for what they do, and the majority of lay leaders surveyed indi-cated they do not think that ordination is necessary for the min-istries performed by deacons in their parishes. We could also ~larch-ApH11998 Gottemoeller * Religious Life: Where Does It Fit? point out that the typical deacon's education and spiritual and pi'ofessional preparation for ministry are less than that of the reli-gious with whom he serves on the same parish staff--and yet he is empowered to preach, to serve at the altar during liturgy, and to a~dminister some sacraments. Of all these ministries, it is difficult to identify religious with any specific one. Teachers in parochial schools and in Christian-doctrine (CCD) programs, nurses in hospitals, workers in child-care, eldercare, and special care institutions of all kinds are overwhelmingly lay people. Some religious continue to minister in these settirigs, but others are in a wide variety of other venues: prisons, homeless shelters, social-welfare agencies, housing pro-jects, parishes, dioceses, retreat centers, justice offices, congre-gational headquarters, and so forth. Not all of these settings are affiliated with the individual's congregation or, indeed, with the Catholic Church. The causes of this ministerial diffusion are complex and not all within the control of religious congregations. Among other factors in play is the law of supply and demand. Religious are not needed in some ministries for which others are very well qualified. Religious cannot afford to offer their services gratis, and their seniority makes them too expensive to hire. Institutions that were once the employer of last resort for religious have closed or cannot employ persons without specific creden-tials. The government has assumed greater responsibility for some works for which religious were once responsible. Professional credentialing has put some ministries beyond the reach of some religious. And so forth. There is no end of opportunities for vol-unteers in the typical parish or institution, but volunteer (that is, nonremunerated) serviICe is not really a viable option for many of a congregation's members. One of the common venues for ministry is the parish (not the parish school, but the parish itself), a fact that contributes to the phenomenon known as the parochialization of religious life. As qualified lay teachers became available in years past, they began to replace sisters in the classroom. At the same time, parishes looked to sisters to fill roles for which they were deemed uniquely qualified, especially the religious education of children and adults and a variety of other pastoral services such as outreach to the elderly and homebound, music ministry, and liturgy preparation. Then, as the number of the clergy declined and the number of Review for Religious parishes with a single priest grew, pastors looked to sisters to move into the new roles of pastoral associate and even pastoral administrator (in priestless parishes). An unforeseen effect of this parochial assimilation is that the typical parish has little or no sense of the distinctive charism of each religious congregation, no sense of the congregational mission or spirituality that sup-ports "their" sister. If this development moves to its logical conclusion, women religious might come to be regarded as generic church workers, inter-changeable parish functionaries. Such parochial assimilation also blurs the dis-tinction between clerical and religious identity. Of course, everyone knows that pi'iests can celebrate Mass and religious cannot. But the popular confu-sion about the two vocations is indicated by ques-tions such as the following which I get from tlffie to time: If the pope allows priests to marry, do you think sisters will get married too? Such a questioner has no idea of the distinction between the vocation of a diocesan priest and that of a religious, and no idea that religious life is a way of life in which celibacy is an integral component. Many people assume that we religious observe celibacy as a sort of price for working in the church rather than as the heart of our religious commitment. By way of an aside, we could note that th~ question of priesdy identity and mission in today's church would be a parallel area of investigation. Since the theologies of both the priesthood and religious life are rooted in ecclesiology, there is a relationship between the concepts of both of them. One recent study identi-fied four historically significant theologies of the. priesthood and their corresponding theologies of religious life.4 These theolo-gies differ from one another in their vision of spiritual ideals, of appropriate relationship to a local church, 6f mission focus, and so forth. Clerical religious institutes represent a further permu-tation of the issues. To summarize this first part, we can say that the question of the contemporary meaning and significance of religious life arises on the theoretical side because of the emphasis of Vatican II on the role of the laity in light of the universal call to'holiness, and on the practical side because of the changing ministerial roles of reli- Professional credentialing has put some ministries beyond the reach of some religious. March-April 1998 Gottemoeller ¯ Religious Life: Where Does It Fit? | gious (including their insertion into parochial roles). Finally, the diminishing number of religious reduces their visibility and makes it even more difficult to discover who they are and what they are about. From a congregational perspective, this diminishment makes it more imperative than ever for religious to assert their dis-tinctive identity and to focus their energy and resources in a clear direction--which leads to the issue of significance. Significance of the Question What difference does it make if there is no clear or commonly held answer to what the meaning and purpose of religious life today is. The most obvious answer is that it makes it very difficult, even impossible, to invite, young men and women to consider reli-gious life as a personal option. The Religious Life Futures Project highlighted the problem in its Executive Summary: "The most compelling result of the study indicates that a significant per-centage of religious no longer understand their role and function in the church. This lack of clarity can result in lowered self-con-fidence, a sense of futility, greater propensity to leave religious life, and significant anxiety. The younger religious experience the least clarity, and, among these, women religious experience less clarity than their male counterparts . For both women and men religious, Vatican II substantially reinforced the role of laity in the church, but did not clarify for religious the unique contri-bution of their vocation.''s Other contemporary writers have highlighted the same prob-lem. Sociologist Patricia Wittberg SC speaks of the collapse of the old ideological framework for religious life after the council. By means of a review and analysis of the articles which appeared in Review for Religious over a thirty-year period, she demon-strates how the old definition of religious life as a state of per-fection or privileged way to holiness was discarded and the traditional understanding of the vows and community life eroded or replaced. At the same time a new, internally consistent alter-native definition was proposed by theologians and writers, namely, religious life as prophetic witness. She suggests, however, that structural changes in the daily lifestyle of religious prevented the new definition from being established on a corporate basis. "Nor was the new ideology upheld with the same unanimity as the old had been, for religious communities had deprived themselves of Review for Religious some of the very communal commitment mechanisms that might have reinforced their new beliefs.''6 In other words, we had so reshaped our understandings of obedience, of community, of min-istry, and so forth as to make it impossible to hold one another to any accountability for common practices. Wittberg adds, "Individual religious were defined as those who live their bap-tismal call in the vowed life--but these vows were either inade-quately defined or else defined in such a way as to apply indiscriminately to all Christians. 'The dominant language of reli-gious life . . . shifted from theological constructs to social and psychological paradigms' that were inadequate to explain what was distinct or desirable about the lifestyle.''7 This is quite a sig-nificant observation from a sociologist! As evidence of our lack of a clear sense of our corporate mean-ing and purpose, Wittberg cites some examples of self-defeating patterns of operation: 1. Statements of mission or charism that are vague and gen-eral enough to include all the various interests in a con-gregation. 2. Difficulty in making choices, particularly in the area of long-term planning, because there is no deeply shared vision on which to base these choices. 3. An emphasis on the personal growth and development of the members, as well as a tendency to interpret commu-nity in terms of the needs of the members, work as an indi-vidual project, and spirituality as a private concern. 4. The near impossibility of sustaining corporate commit-ments, s I doubt that there are many religious today who do not recog-nize at least some of this analysis as touching on their own expe-rience. In terms of ministry, the lack of a simple and single answer to the question of what religious do is a cause of confusion and crit-icism among some of the laity. To give one example: the March 1997 issue of Religious Life, a newsletter or journal published by the Institute on Religious Life in Chicago, carried an article tided "Nuns and the Common Good," by Anne Stewart Connell. In it she excoriates "sisters who maintain they are still 'sisters' yet have leaped over convent walls and taken 'administrative' jobs in the church in preference to teaching children" as perpetuating a "gross injustice" in the church. In her words, these sisters are "corrupt-ing" the "bona fide religious who have nowhere to turn but to March-Apt41 1998 Gottemoeller * Religious Life: Where Does It Fit? collude in the corruption simply to survive.''9 It is easy to be dis-mayed by the invective here, but a deeper concern is that the writer has the misconception that some or most religious con-gregations were founded to do a single work, namely, teaching, and that their members have willfully and selfishly betrayed their commitment in order to pursue other occupations. Below the issues of vocational recruitment, congregational morale, and public perception lies the deeper issue of theological coherence. VChere does religious life fit in the theology of our post-Vatican II church? The postsynodal apostolic exhortation Vita consecrata describes consecrated life as a gift to the whole church: Its universal presence and the evangelical nature of its wit-ness are clear evidence--if any were needed--that the con-secrated life is not something isolated and marginal, but a reality which affects the whole church. The bishops at the synod frequently reaffirmed [that] "this is something which concerns us all." In effect, the consecrated life is at the very heart of the church as a decisive element for her mission, since it "manifests the inner nature of the Christian call-ing" and the striving of the whole church as bride towards union with her one Soouse.tAt the Synod it was stated on several occasions tha't the e'~nsecrat'ed life has not only proved a help and support for the church in the past, but is also a precious and necessary gift for the present and future of the people of God, since it is an intimate part of her life, her holiness, and her mission)° Consecrated life, then, is an intimate part of the church's life and a decisive element of her mission. This precious gift is said to be a reality which affects the whole church. How are these affir-mations consonant with our post-Vatican II understanding of the church as a communio, an organic unity of all the faithful, consti-tuted in baptism, nourished by'the sacramental life and authentic teachings, and focused on the one mission? This question of eccle-siology can be the bridge to our third section, in which we focus on the identity and mission of religious life today. Some Suggestions for a Response I would like to attempt to answer our question of meaning and purpose by offering three assertions: (1) Religious life is a permanent state of life ,in the church; (2) religious life has an objective excellence, even a certain superiority, with regard to Review for Religious other states of life; and (3) there is no one ministry for which religious are uniquely qualified, but each congregation should offer a specific witness by its corporate lifestyle and mission. Religious life is a permanent state of life in the church. The impli-cations of this statement are that it is clearly distinguishable from other states of life in the church and that it is rec-ognized as such by the church in an official way. "State of life" is probably a term of art rather than a categorical definition, but I think we would all agree that it suggests a deliberate orientation of one's life, encompassing fundamental and stable choices around the use of one's sexuality, material possessions, personal freedom, relationships, talents, and future options. The choices made by persons in the religious state of life with respect to these dimensions of life are customarily designated celibacy, poverty, obedience, community, ministry, and permanence. The choides have an inner con-gruence, so that each influences how the others are expressed and experienced. Taken together, these choices are more than enough to distinguish a person in the religious state from one in the lay state. This assertion that religious life is a permanent state of life in the church might seem too obvious to need saying, but I feel it needs emphasis in light of the charge sometimes made that reli-gious have become indistinguishable from the laity. The real issue here is the visibility of the way of life, with its interdependent and distinguishing characteristics. If all an onlooker sees is a single woman living alone and going out to a job each day, the evan-gelical witness is compromised and its meaning eroded. Poverty, obedience, community, ministry--these make real-life demands and effectively shape a life that is distinctively different from the general Christian vocation. The church's recognition of this state of life draws on a dis-tinction between the church's structure and its life. According to the first, there are only two states of life, clerical and lay. According to the latter, there are three states: clerical, religious, and lay. The operative quotations from Vatican II's Lumen gentium are: "From the point of view of the divine and hierarchical struc-ture of the church, the religious state of life is not an intermedi-ate one between the clerical and lay states. Rather, the faithful of Where does religious life fit in the theology of our post-Vatican II church? March-April 1998 Gottemoeller ¯ Reli~ous Life: Where Does It Fit? Christ are called by God from both these latter states of life so that they may enjoy this particular gift in the life of the church. ¯ ." (§43) and "although the religious state., does not belong to the hierarchical structure of the church, nevertheless it belongs inseparably to her life and holiness" (§44). At the same time, the document (§31) says that "the term laity is here understood to mean all the faithful except those in holy orders and those in a religious state sanctioned by the church." In other words, the division of church members into three states, the religious, the clerical, and the lay, is a division based on the life and holiness of the church, not on its structure. Vita consecrata describes these three vocations as paradigmatic choices, "inasmuch as all particular vocations., are in one way or another derived from them or lead back to them, in accordance with the richness of God's gift.''~1 The diversity represented by these three fundamental options corresponds perfectly with the idea of the church as communio in which the Spirit provides for a variety of vocations, charisms, and ministries. A communion eccle-siology accents ordered relationships and differentiation of roles within the fundamental equality that stems from a common bap-tism. Diversity is also present within the religious state, not just among the three fundamental states of life. For example, conse-crated life is realized in religious and in secular institutes and in societies of apostolic life. Religious institutes may be clerical, non-clerical, or mixed; monastic, mendicant, evangelical, or apostolic; contemplative or active; ancient or modern. New institutes arise and old ones pass away. Whatever the canonical form or historical sit-uation, commitment to the evangelical counsels according to a rule approved by the church is the essential characteristic of this state of life. Given the countercultural nature of the commitment required by the counsel~, religious life will always be the choice of the few rather than of the many. However, it is an enduring way of life which seems to flourish in one epoch or cultural milieu and diminish in another, only to revive again with new vigor. Religious life has an objective excellence, even a certain superiority, with regard to other states of life. This second assertion about the identity and mission of religious life is prompted in part by a phrase which occurs in three places in Vita consecrata, namely, that consecrated life has an "objective superiority" in the church.12 When the apostolic exhortation was first published, commentators (including myself) reacted immediately to the phrase, noting that Review for Religious it seems to contradict the affirmation of Vatican II that all the faithful of Christ are called to the perfection of charity and to the perfect fulfillment of their proper state. Commentators pointed out that the word "superiority" was a translation of the Latin praestantia, which the French and Italian texts translated as "excellence" (and it, is likely that the document was first written in Italian).'3 In other words, we concluded that what the pope was really saying is that consecrated life has an objective excel-lence. We felt comfortable with this because to affirm one voca-tion or state of life as excellent does not imply that another choice is not equally excellent. On further reflection, however, I am willing to suggest that, whatever the pope did or did not intend, the word "superiority" also has a certain legitimacy. Appealing again to a communion ecclesiology, I find a differentiation of roles and a hierarchy of functions to be consonant with an organic model of the church. In the words of 1 Corinthians 12, "As a body is one though it has many parts, and all the parts of the body, though many, are one body, so also Christ," and, further, "If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be?" Applying all this to the church, St. Paul asserts: "Some people God has designated in the church to be, first, apostles; second, prophets; third, teachers; then, [doers of] mighty deeds; then, gifts of healing, assistance, administration, and varieties of tongues." Finally, as if to under-score the implicit hierarchy in this list, he says, "Strive eagerly for the greatest spiritual gifts." The most obvious application of this principle of differenti-ation is with respect to ordained persons and their specific pub-lic responsibilities within the church. But I would suggest that the principle might also apply to the domain of the life of the church,x4 In the home at Bethany, Jesus says to Martha, "Mary has chosen the better part" (Lk 10:42). Can there be a good and a better part, objectively speaking, within the life of the Christian community? If the answer is yes, and if consecrated life can claim to be the better part, than what, specifically, makes it better? Vita con-secrata attempts to answer this question in paragraphs 29-34 deal-ing with consecrated life in and for the church. The crux of the answer is that persons in consecrated life commit themselves to a "fuller, more explicit and authentic confoi'mity to him [Jesus] t~larch-~lpri1199g Gottemoeller ¯ Religious Life: Where Does It Fit? through the profession of the evangelical counsels" (§30). This commitment is "a special and fruitful deepening of the consecra-tion received in baptism" (§30). This further consecration differs from baptismal consecration, of which it is not a necessary con-sequence. 15 All the baptized are called to holiness and the virtues which contribute to holiness, such as chastity, obedience to God and to the church, and a reasonable detachment from material possessions. But baptism does not include the call to celibacy or virginity, obedience to a superior, or the renunciation of posses-sions, in the form proper to the evangelical counsels. In addition to conforming their lives in an explicit way to the pattern of Jesus' life, those who profess the evangelical counsels also proclaim and in a certain way anticipate the future age when the fullness of the kingdom of heaven, already present in its first fruits and in mystery, will be achieved and when the children of the resurrection will take neither wife nor husband, but will be like the angels of God (VC §32). Thus, consecrated chastity or celibacy is the preeminent expression of, and "door to," the whole conse-crated life. In summary, then, the superiority of the consecrated life is twofold: in its conformity to the life of Jesus and in its being a sign of the life to come, both of which are specifically and uniquely realized in this way of life. Within the church and on behalf of the whole church, consecrated life is a kind of sacrament of presence. Again, in the words of Vita consecrata, "The consecrated life, by its very existence in the church, seeks to serve the consecration of the lives of all the faithful, clergy and laity alike" (§33). The ministry of witness is mutual: "consecrated persons themselves are helped by the witness of the other vocations to live fully and completely their union with the mystery of Christ and the church in its many different dimensions." Of course, we need to emphasize that the excellence or supe-riority of consecrated life adheres in the state of life itself and can-not be automatically attributed to any person choosing this life option. Individual men and women in consecrated life may be gen-erous or selfish, great-spirited or petty, devout or apathetic, bold or indifferent in their service of God and God's people. At times they may waver in their commitment or fail in their obligations. When they do, they acknowledge their failures, seek God's pardon, and persevere. The ideal is still in place, even though human weakness prevents them from realizing it as generously as they would want. Review for Religious As a state of life, consecrated life offers--to men and women who have been captured by so intense a love for God that every dimen-sion of their lives is affected--a more excellent way to express that love~within the context of church. Up until now we have dealt with the identity of religious life. Let me now turn to the question of mission. Other than wit-nessing by our presence, can we concretize what it is that reli-gious do (or should do)? In my view the answer is that there is no one ministry for which religious are uniquely qualified, but each congregation should offer a specific witness by its corporate lifestyle and The excellence mission. The apostolic exhortation Vita con-secrata deals beautifully with the inte-gration of consecration and mission: "By the action of the Holy Spirit who is at the origin of every vocation and charism, consecrated life itself is a mis-sion, as was the whole of Jesus' life" (§72). It follows that, if the life itself is a mission, it must be visible. The evan-gelical counsels and the ideals of love for God, passionate concern for the poor and needy, and commitment to community life need to be translated into specific behaviors that people can see and understand. These behaviors .also help introduce a new member into the meaning of the life and reinforce a sense of belonging among all members. Without such corporate behaviors, there is no visibility; with-out visibility, there is no witness. We could discuss at length what such corporate behaviors (or commitment mechanisms, as th~ sociologists call them) might be, but the principle is clear. In the process of renewal, we discarded a whole set of behaviors that were anachronistic or even harmful to psychological health, but we have not yet adopted new behav-iors appropriate for today's culture and ministerial needs. One of the factors that keep us from identifying or adopting such cor-porate behaviors is our respect for diversity. This value is affirmed in Hta consecrata and is a necessary outcome of the renewal pro-cess enjoined by the Second Vatican Council. If religious institutes successfully "return to the inspiration of their founders" and or superiority of consecrated life adheres in the state of life itself and cannot be automatically attributed to any person choosing this life option. March-April 1998 "adapt to the needs of their contemporary circumstances/min-istries," they are inevitably going to look different. What the council did not anticipate, however, is that diversity grew within each congregation. To some extent this development was a healthy outcome of greater appreciation of individual personalities, psy-chological needs, spiritual gifts, and so forth. However, unques-tioned diversity (that is, diversity of lifestyle, of theology, of spirituality) within a congregation can erode corporate identity and the possibility of corporate witness. It seems clear that viable religious life of the future will manifest less diversity within each congregation and greater diversity among congregations. Another factor that keeps us from adopting common prac-tices and behaviors is a fear of restorationism, a concern that someone will try to reverse the passage of history and return us to the practices we discarded years ago. We can see, if we reflect on the learnings of these intervening years, that such a reversal is not even remotely possible. Our failure, however, is that for the most part we have not identified and reflected on the learnings of these years of renewal. We have not asked ourselves how our cur-rent practices express our love for Jesus Christ and our commit-ment to the church in a credible way,.how they support and enhance our mission, how they promote greater passion for the gospel and for the service of the poor and needy. Our lack of crit-ical reflection on our present reality leaves the task of evaluation to those outside our midst who are often ill-informed and intem-perate in their judgments. Commitment to a corporate mission is an element that needs to be explicitated for each congregation, institute, or society. The articulation needs to be clear and focused if it is to effectively guide the choices of members about their ministries and con-tribute to the public perception of a congregation. On the other hand, the statement of mission usually cannot be reduced to a single ministry unless the congregation is very small or is con-centrated in a small locale. A congregational mission does not exist in isolation; it is an explicitation of some dimension of the church's mission. Therefore it presupposes an understanding of, and commitment to, ecclesial mission. This is an area of challenge for everyone in the church today, including religious. We need to recall that, at its deepest level, the church's mission is about restoring the relationship between God and human persons. It is expressed through good Review for Religious works such as education, social service, healthcare, and public advocacy, but, fundamentally, these are "missionary" only if they have an explicitly religious purpose and meaning. As more and more religious minister in secular or ecumenical and thus non-congregationally sponsored works, it becomes more important than ever to validate the religious dimension of their work. In our first-world milieu, there is probably no social prob-lem or societal need of such aching intensity that only religious with their full-time, lifelong, religious commitment can attend to it. Rather, there is a host of problems or needs---homelessness, ignorance, ill health, violence, social unrest, and so forth--which make legitimate claims on people of the gospel, whatever their state of life. Moreover, these problems exist within a culture tainted by materialism, consumerism, transitoriness, promiscu-ity, loneliness, xenophobia, alienation, and on and on. What reli-gious can do, must do, is offer another way to live within this culture in a personally transformed and transforming way. To that end, our choice of a specific ministry is secondary. What counts is that our ministry flow from and enrich the whole of our con-secrated life. To return to the question with which we began: Where does religious life fit in today's church? I would answer that it is an enduring way of life in which men and women intensify their commitment to Jesus Christ through the evangelical counsels, lived according to a rule. Their rules specify the particulars of their commitment in such a way that its integrity is safeguarded and public witness is enhanced. The mission of each congregation is a participation in the mission of the church, specified in a way that meets contemporary needs and focuses the corporate energies and witness of the congregation. Is this the answer one can give an inquirer, a potential new member, perhaps one's niece or nephew? The answer might seem theoretical or academic. A better answer might be that religious life is an affair of the heart. It offers, within the church, a dynamic yet tested way to follow Jesus Christ more closely and to serve him more generously, and to do this with the support of others who share this same passion. Notes *The Apostolic Exhortation on Consecrated Life, Vita consecrata (§I04), asks this very question: "What is the point of the consecrated life?" March-April 1998 Gottemoeller * Religious Life: Where Doe~ It Fit? 2 Lumen gentium, §§40 and 42. See, too, all of chap. 5, "The Call of the Whole Church to Holiness." 3"NCCB National Study of the Diaconate," Origins 25, no. 30 (1996): 501. Survey respondents included deacons, their wives, their priest super-visors, and parish lay leaders. 4 David N. Power OMI, "Theologies of Religious Life and Priesthood," in A Concert of Charisms: Ordained Ministry in Religious Life, ed. Paul K. Hennessy CFC (New York: Paulist Press, 1997), pp. 80-81. s David J. Nygren CM and Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ, The Future of Religious Orders in the United States (Westport, Conn.: Praeger, 1993), "Affiliative Decline and Role Clarity," pp. 248-249. Or see "The Religious Life Futures Project: Executive Summary," Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 6-55, at Conclusion 5, pp. 47-48; or see "The Future of Religious Orders in the United States," Origins 22, no. 15 (24 September 1992): 258-272, at Part IV, no. 5. 6 Patricia Wittberg SC, The Rise and Fall of Catholic Religious Orders: A Social Movement Perspective (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1994), p. 251. 7 Wittberg, Rise, p. 256. In the latter quotation Wittberg is citing Nygren and Ukeritis, "Future," Origins 22, no. 15, p. 268; or see "Religious Life Futures Project," Review for Religious 52, no. 1, p. 37. 8Wittberg, Rise, p. 256, credits these points to Mary Jo Leddy, Reweaving Religious Life, p. 73. 9 Religious Life 21, no. 3, pp. 4-5. ~o Vita consecrata, §3 (emphasis in the original). II ~/~ta consecrata, §31. 12 Vita consecrata, §§18, 32, and 105. ~3 See editor's note in Religious Life Review (July 1996), p. 25 I. 14The Final Report from the 1985 extraordinary session of the Synod of Bishops, dealing with the implementation and interpretation of Vatican II, says: "The ecclesiology of communion cannot be reduced to purely organizational questions or to problems which si.mply relate to powers." Se~ Origins 15, no. 27 (19 December 1985), p. 448. 15 The following paragraph of Vita consecrata (§31) speaks of"a new and special consecration which, without being sacramental, commits [reli-gious] to making their own--in chastity, poverty, and obedience--the way of life practiced personally by Jesus and proposed by him to his dis-ciples." 1:60 Review for Religious STEPHEN DE LA ROSA Creative Fidelity: Renewal in the Spirit of St. John of God Spirituality is a way of living: life as relationship with God, neighbor, and self. The beliefs, practices, and moral norms of many various spiritualities guide people's inte-rior life. The demands of daily living and the challenges of our time call upon people's various spiritualities for a response. As Brothers of St. John of God, we respond to the needs of the sick, abandoned, poor, and dying,. This response demands an interior disposition of patience, kindness, understanding, fortitude, and physical energy. Often our responses are made in the midst of adversity from limited material and financial resources. A recent book says, "Spirituality is understood to include not merely the techniques of prayer but, more broadly, a conscious relationship with God, in Jesus Christ, through the indwelling of the Spirit." St. John of God never lost faith, hope, and love. In the midst of great suffering, he always responded to those in need. Since such responses are not easy, every generation of Hospitaller Brothers of St. John of God is confronted with a spiritual attitude called hardness of heart. It begins with feelings of staleness or stagnation. The soul feels lifeless. The spirit becomes deadened. To move away from apathy and feel our actions rean-imated, what we need is an interior disposition of wonder Stephen de la Rosa OH was provincial for nine years and is now formation director of his province. His address is Hospitaller Brothers of St. John of God; 2035 West Adams Boulevard; Los Angeles, California 90018. spiritua renewal March-April 1998 De La Rosa * Creative Fidelity and awe, a renewal process that leads to a rebirth. This move-ment can be called "creative fidelity," a continuing response under the impulse of the Holy Spirit to the challenges of present moments as they come along. Fidelity of this kind is based on a certain relationship that is felt to be inalterable, an assurance of something that cannot be fleeting. When we say "creative fidelity" in the context of the spirituality of the Brothers of St. John of God, there arises a specific image: because of his interior life, St. John of God, who lived more than four hundred years ago, was able to be endlessly resourceful. St. John of God had many sides to his personality. Leaving home at an early age, he soon joined the army and soon ran into many difficulties. Going to Africa in search of more meaningful experience, he labored for people who were in dire need. He struggled with his own sinfulness and encountered mental ill-ness. Yet he went forward for the sake of the sick and forsaken and experienced his conversion in serving thousands of the sick in Granada. In short, John's life was not an easy one. But it is in this simple yet profound life that we discover the elements of the "creative fidelity" to which his disciples, sharers of his spiritual-ity, are called. St. John of God showed by example how to live in creative fidelity to the Spirit of God. The root of his creative fidelity is summed up in his constant proclamation "I trust solely in Jesus Christ."2 This trust in God was basic to his interior disposition. It is what enabled him to take on the inevitable difficulties of liv-ing in a world of p~in and suffering. Hospitality as a spirituality is a way of being and acting in the midst of suffering. It is a love that leads to caring for, and a caring that leads to love of, those who suffer. St. John of God could see the image of God in the suffering of those he called his brothers and sisters. Such an ability is a form of authentic human development. In his lifetime John of God motivated peo-ple to act hospitably in the midst of difficulties, and today he does so too. He remarks in a letters to a friend, "Remember our Lord Jesus Christ and how he returned good for the evil they did to him.''3 Connected with the notion of creative fidelity are the signs of the times and the challenges arising from them. Creative fidelity, in the spirituality of St. John of God, is the working out of the implications of our beliefs, adapting to the reality we live in, so Review for Religious that our human spirit can "act justly, love tenderly, and walk humbly with our God" (Mi 6:8-9). ,. John of God is not simply a poetic figure who stands outside the mainstream of his time. He felt the pain and abandonment of the sick and suffering and was enormously sensitive to what the public agencies of the time were not doing for others. His mes-sage, "Do good to yourself by doing good for others,''4 was an amazing message calling for contemplation, conversion, and com-passion and for commitment to alleviating people's suffering. It is this process, a cycle of renewal, which I call cre-ative fidelity to the spirit of St. John of God. Responding to the needs of our times requires a soulful response, requires that we Brothers be contemplative. Contemplative prayer involves seeing and being aware of the truth in a universal manner. It .means being aware of our surroundings. It is about movement and action or the lack thereof. For St. John of God, this awareness meant "Always have charity, for where there is no charity God is not there-- even though God is everywhere.''s The Brother of St. John of God who takes a contemplative stance tbward life, especially the life of suffering, will experience a great depth of happiness, peace, and love. He will also be able to sense their absence. There is an interior joy in seeing and understanding the meaning and reason of human suffering. Seeing the truth of suffering calls us to con-version. To act on what we see requires conversion. Contemplation allows us to see injustice, to confront our own needs, and to be open to a newness of heart. Hospitality to a stranger means wel-coming someone unfamiliar. It means recognizing another's vul-nerability compassionately. The interior elements of this response open us up to our helplessness. John says in a letter: "I am very unhappy when I see so many poor people (who are my brothers and neighbors) suffering and in great need in both body and soul and I cannot help them. Nevertheless, I trust solely in Jesus Christ, who will bring me out of debt, for he knows my heart." 6 The interior awareness of our helplessness is the beginning of creative fidelity. An authentic spiritual response includes a fidelity to Christ and the gospel, a fidelity to our fellow human beings and to our Hospitality as a spirituality is a way of being and acting in the midst of suffering. March-April 1998 De La Rosa * Creative Fidelity times, a fidelity to the charism of St. John of God, and a fidelity to the church and its mission in the world. The spiritual life of a Brother of St. John of God challenges us to present new answers to the new problems of today's world, not so very different from the times of St. John of God, when racism, greed, hatred, fanaticism, and economic inequities--and much indifference to such things, too--caused many human ills. People marginalized people, keeping them out of and alienated from the dominant social order or making them so. We too are faced with the isolation of the sick, the derelict, the aged, and the dying. Today we too place people in categories that dehumanize, that make human relations less than ideal. Through his spirituality St. John of God recognized the vulner-ability of others and recognized his own. Hospitality, for St. John of God, is a spiritual movement toward unity with God and neigh-bor. He goes beyond empathy to actually taking on the suffer-ings of the other. In his own experience of alienation, of being locked up in a mental hospital, St. John of God had an experience of"I am at home" and was liberated to be a brother to the poor and abandoned. Conversion leads to compassion. For the Brother of St. John of God, hospitality is the apostolic expression of love. Hospitality exposes the giver to the forma-tive experience of vulnerability. St. John of God was challenged by the needs of his time. He looked into himself and recognized the need to change. He looked outside of himself and saw the needs of suffering humanity. He surrendered to God and dis-covered a deeper relational integrity among the different dimen-sions of his life. He discovered that within the self there is little or no way of restoring people to their fullness. He turned in his need to total reliance on God. As we trace his spiritual journey, we see that this experience of trust in God allowed him, and allows future generations of his followers, to be formed in the image of the compassionate and merciful Christ, who emptied himself of his divinity and went about doing good, healing every kind .of infirmity. Hastened by the words of the sermon of St. John of Avila which brought about his conversion, St. John of God discovered the merciful love of God the Father and experienced God's com-passion as a remedy for his own sense of alienation. He experi-enced the compassion and merciful love of the Father as God's fidelity to him. New circumstances demand new responses, which Review for Religious in turn demand ongoing renewal and openness to conversion, which allows our response to be one of compassion. Hospitality, thus, means becoming one with the stranger, as the Son of God became a human being, emptying himself of his divinity to free us in mercy and compassion to respond to the Father's love. Fidelity to the charism of hospitality is lived as a spirituality when, in the presence of suffering people, we are emp-tied of our own pride, memories, or hostilities to be present to others not as the remedy or the source of healing, but quite sim-ply as a compassionate companion committed to the liberating power of the Spirit, an encounter of solidarity and communion. The spiritualized Brother of St. John of God is one who knows that God is communicating with him. But this deifying force does not remain closed in on itself; it radiates out of him to others--which means a true and real "horizontal diffusion" of the Spirit.7 In this manner a Brother of St. John of God partici-pates in the self-emptying act of the Son of God. "They don't just participate in him but they also communicate him to others. ¯. They don't just live, but they give life to others, and all of this is not something that pertains to a simple creative force." s At first glance it appears that John of God never asked any questions about what he should do; he just responded to the need at hand. Questions about whom to help and how to help them seem neither to have been noticeable in John's way of acting nor relevant to his cast of mind. He saw a needy person and acted. His fundamental healing project was to revitalize people's sense of integrity by restoring their human dignity. Yet, in his unwavering commitment to those in need, he did listen to his spiritual direc-tor, who warned him: "Do not deceive yourself by saying, 'I want to help them.' Because dangers lurk beneath good intentions when there is a lack of prudence, and God does not want me to bring about good for others at the expense of damage to my own soul.''9 Similarly, our own commitment needs to be tested against our fidelity to St. John of God's charism and to the church. The exterior structures of the church of today are in a state of permanent change. However, the Brother of St. John of God who, having experienced faith as a gift from a loving Father, does not rely just on exterior norms. Instead he looks to create an ever growing experience of a community of hope. The spirituality of St. John of God--and that of his Brothers as well--is an "in the church " spirituality. "In the church " refers to the church as it March-April 1998 De La Rosa * Creative Fidelity defines itself here and now and as it grows from the present into the future. For a Brother of St. John of God, fidelity to this growth is one of searching in the context of suffering for ways that we and others can grow in our human spirit. As Pope John Paul II says in Evangelium vitae, "We are called to express won-der and gratitude for the gift of life and to welcome, savor, and share the gospel of life." (§84). Our commitment is to human life. It is in living this life that we discover the interior life of the soul. Creative fidelity allows us to make a commitment to the spirituality of St. John of God in such a way that we see this truth that Evangelium vitae expresses: "Human life is sacred because from its beginning it involves 'the creative action of God,' and it remains forever in a special rela-tionship with the Creator, who is its sole end. God alone is the Lord of life from its beginning until its end; no one can claim for himself the right to destroy directly an innocent human being" (§53). The service of the Brother of St. John of God to the sick, the suffering, and the abandoned is a spiritual act of dedicated devotion to the person of Christ. Those who wish to be true fol-lowers of St. John of God will grasp his spirit and. nurture it. Like him they will find great consolation in the contemplation of the Passion. Such contemplation is much more than the sentimentally pious 16th-century practice that some might consider it to be. "When you are troubled or distressed, turn to the Passion of Jesus Christ our Lord and to his precious wounds, and you will feel great consolation," he wrote,l° This practice sustained him in his vision of love and assistance for those in need. We have seen how spiritual growth can occur within a spiri-tuality of hospitality. God calls us personally, and our response-- we are calling it "creative fidelity"--is our effort to understand more broadly and deeply the purpose and meaning of St. John of God's spirituality as embodied by our Brothers today. We are looking at a theological pattern that emerges in his spirituality and can help us in our ongoing renewal: contemplation, conver-sion, compassion, and commitment. In our experience of living out the spirituality of St. John of God, we are able to note how bringing the word of God to bear upon a situation raises questions, suggests new insights, and opens new interior responses. In this manner we continue to learn how to be faithful to suffering humanity in its needs in these o

Issue 51.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1992. ; for religious Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MAY-JUNE 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 3 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis Universio,., by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048. Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the "Canonical Counsel" department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ 5001 Eastern Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 V~;ashington, D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Senti address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, anti additional offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5.00 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15.00 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28.00 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for subscription information and mailing costs. ©1992 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe David J. Hassel SJ Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Se~in Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MAY/JUNE 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 3 contents life choices 326 A Monastic Way in the World Theresa Mancuso tells of the monasticism she has found herself continuing to live now for ten years in New York City, ever since she left her monastery in upstate New York. 337 I Leap Back Over the Wall Corey S. Van Kuren OFMCap offers reflections on his experience of reentering a religious community. 341 Why We Stay Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ presents a personal witness to a lasting commitment to the religious vocation. 347 When a Sister or Brother Leaves Melannie Svoboda SND offers personal reflections on the departure from religious life of a lifelong friend. transitions 356 The Integral Sabbatical Brian B. McClorry SJ blends the traditional sabbatical elements of coursework and reading with time in a remote wilderness and discovers the riches of the ordinary. 373 Using Ignatian Discernment Philip L. Boroughs SJ applies the Ignatian principles for discernment to a person in a time of transition. scripture and spiritual life 388 A Woman's Compassionate and Discerning Heart Mary Lou Cranston CND examines the compassionate heart of the. woman in 1 Kings 3 as a model for understanding discernment and its relationship to religious obedience and governance. 397 Peter's Characterization in Luke-Acts Lola M. Wells proposes that a unified reading of Luke-Acts provides a valuable portrait of individual discipleship. 3 2 2 Review for Religious 403 Petitionary Prayer in a Biblical Perspective John H. Zupez SJ reflects on the constant value of petitionary prayer especially through a more mature way of entering into our Scriptures. 408 Hasidism, Creation, and the Psalms Joseph Fichtner OSC, guided by the Hasidic tradition, finds in the Psalms an awe-filled creation spirituality alert to the Creator's presence and power. devotional life 417 Marian Spirituality and Apparitions Walter T. Brennan OSM suggests that the proliferation of Marian apparitions leaves us living in a gray area of pastoral judgment and practice, but paradoxically gray is full of color. 424 The Mirror Image in Clare of Assisi Sister Karen Karper develops how Clare presents Christ as the mirror of one's own deepest identity and its apostolic implications. charism and mission 432 Reclaiming Competence Theresa M. Monroe RSCJ indicates that some careful limits and boundaries would protect the creativity our times demand of religious institutes. 453 Restructuring William F. Hogan CSC points out that restructuring in religious congregations must balance the twofold need to maintain institutional essentials and to adapt to the challenges of the mission. 458 reflection Why Claude la Colombi~re? John A. McGrail SJ uses the canonization of Claude la Colombi~re to consider the roots and contemporary value of devotion to the Sacred Heart. departments 324 Prisms 461 Canonical Counsel: Voluntary Exclaustration 469 Book Reviews May-j~une 1992 323 prisms Pope John Paul II seems to be setting a record in saint making. In his various missionary travels, he frequently celebrates the ritual of beatification or can-onization of a woman or man recognized for holiness by the local people. Some are critical of this making of saints. "Out of step with the times," they say. Others just wonder why. We human beings need our heroes and heroines. The stories of women and men who have captured our minds and hearts because of their bravery, their dedicated service, their contribution to a more humane world have been told in every culture and in every age. The names change, the circumstances differ, but the inspiration for human living remains the same. We all seem to be searching for a glimpse or two of heroism not too far from home. Yet some fear or some reluctance appears to stifle, early on, our own desire for the heroic. Various factors may contribute to this reluc-tance. Perhaps pop psychology, too readily imbibed as Gospel, has made us too content with being the ordinary persons we are, too willing to be coddled into a generic self-esteem. Or when heroes are proposed, a mean spirit in us and in our culture may drive us to search out ways to cut these people back down to ordinary size . . . or less. Maybe such behavior flows from a poorly idealized pro-letarian spirit which is a communist residue in us all. Often it seems that heroes or heroines are quickly raised up and 324 Review fbr Relig4ous just as quickly forgotten. Perhaps our enthusiasm for their exam-ple and their deeds lasts no longer than the music or video of the moment. Then, too, we probably fear the disappointment of the hero or heroine letting us down; we surely fear the cost of hero-ism for ourselves. Despite such stifling factors or because of them, our need for inspiring heroism to permeate our everyday world in the living example of contemporary women and men remains. The vari-ous spiritual traditions in the church have been first enfleshed in the lives of women and men before they came to be written down as programs for the following of Christ. Life and ministry shone out in persons with names and faces before any rule or constitu-tions were formulated. There comes a time in every spirituality when structures or formulas or written theological treatises are essential if it is to become a heritage or tradition within the church community. A common way that particular spiritualities have been institutionalized has been through the foundation of religious congregations. Religious life does not exist as a generic reality, but only in particular embodiments, each with its own approved rule of life, an organized spiritual tradition. A religious rule of life, then, not only provides for the identity of a particular reli-gious family as a legitimate form of following Christ, but also ¯ brings that family's prophetic voice to the harmonies and coun-terpoints of the church on earth. The danger of any heritage arises when it becomes a tomb or sculpted sarcophagus, beautiful in its form, but containing disconnected bones devoid of breath. Only heroes and heroines make spiritualities live. Can people live heroic lives in an unheroic age? The answer obviously lies with us. No matter what our spirituality or her-itage may be, the people who embody it for us retain an impor-tance beyond a brilliant theoretical study of a particular charism or some wonderfully fashioned new constitutions. Saints, both old and new, hold out to us the promise that this kind of a fol-lowing of Christ is humanly possible. Requiring a little heroism, perhaps, but humanly possible. Our church and our world need heroes and heroines. Anyone of us who is serious about the spiritual heritage we try to live rec-ognizes the call within it to be heroic. To paraphrase Chesterton, it is not so much that heroism has been tried in our day and found wanting; rather, today we try so little to be heroic. .David L. Fleming SJ May-3~une 1992 325 life choices THERESA MANCUSO A Monastic Way in the World Into the darkness of a cold winter's night, I peer quietly from my third-floor window, reflective after the day's work. Gathering up my briefcase and tightening my gray woolen scarf close about my face, I leave the office and head up Lafayette Street towards the "M" train. This is the evening part of my daily routine, the trip home from work. Upstate far away the semantron sounds over halcyon hills of white birch. Monks and nuns make ready to answer the call of the monastery bell which will soon follow the hol-low rhythm of the semantron. Donning black choir robes, they will take their places for Vespers. Ancient chants will blend harmoniously with the whistling mountain wind as it purrs along the windows of the monastery church. Still living my self-imposed exile of a decade, I walk through the darkening streets of lower Manhattan as falling snow shimmers softly about the dim street lights. I hear down-town church bells chiming six o'clock. The old nostalgia rises as I hustle down broken concrete steps into.the cold, damp tunnel, far from the candlelight kingdom of my monastery home. The "M" train screeches into the sta-tion, jamming to a stop along the drab platform. Doors fling open and I rush to board, jostled by the crowd, my fellow travelers, all scrambling for a seat. Everything monastic, everything I love, is far away and long removed, Theresa Mancuso has been a member of an active religious order and of.a monastic community. She has published on wide-ranging topics 'including religious education, elder abuse, and criminal probation. She lives at 448 Seventh Avenue; Brooklyn, New York 11215. 326 Review for Religious but I carry it still in my heart. Here in the streets of the city or deep beneath them hurling through subterranean corridors on hard cold rails of steel, I ponder the Desert Fathers and the vows I made years ago while walking in their pathways. Every day, five days out of seven, I begin and end my travels at Union Street station in the underside of Park Slope, Brooklyn. It is a poor neighborhood unreclaimed by urban renewal. Trash and waste clutter its curbs and sidewalks, a place where immigrants cling tena-ciously to the fringes of hope that carried them from their homes in Ecuador, Nicaragua, Puerto Rico, parts of Asia, Africa, and Eastern Europe. They work hard here and live hard, struggling to make it on Union Street. These are my neigh-bors and I am theirs. Amid the drama of daily life unfolding here with its stark reality calling me toward a new wisdom, I park my car and climb down the subway steps to board the train to and from Manhattan. Every morning and every evening my meditation begins and ends here, my earnest prayer rising from the cold and lonely street. The crowded train on weekday mornings teaches me much of patience and endurance. Pushing, shoving, sweating, shivering, they board, riders of this underground iron horse, travel-weary as they squeeze into place. Once settled, the subway people sink into watchful silence, hardly raising their eyes yet ever on guard. Destinies mingle here in this place where the sun does not shine and danger is always just a breath away. Muggings and murder are familiar specters in the New York City subway. The security of the monastery is a dream-like state, a fading unfamiliar mem-ory. There is no security here. Here one rides in the arms of Divine Providence, wrapped in total abandonment under the pro-tection of the Mother of God. There are no promises of personal safety in the darkness of this daily voyage underneath the city. I often look about and see prayer happening on the faces of many fellow travelers. Some'read Scripture, openly holding a small Bible on their laps; some say the rosary, while others sit straight with hands folded in the perfect posture of meditation. How true ring the words that rise in my heart as the train rushes forward, "Holy God, Holy Mighty One, Holy Immortal One, have mercy on us." I often look about and see prayer happening on the faces of many fellow travelers. May-.~une 1992 327 Mancuso ¯ A Monastic V~ay in the IVorld Dirt and discomfort surround me as I call upon the assistance of the Holy Spirit to quiet my soul and prepare my mind to reflect more deeply on that which alone is nec.es~ary. In this, the most unlikely of places, I have learned to make my daily prayer. Well I remember the daily formula used in my earliest experience of religious life, when the superior commenced the community's prayer time with the words: "Let us place ourselves in the pres-ence of God and ask the assistance of the H?ly Spirit to make our meditation well." These words speak themselves in my mind as the subway train runs along the track. The harsh screech of iron wheels blazing along the curved track under the East River assaults my ears as my mind focuses on interior prayer. My eyes meet a kaleidoscope of society, fellow travelers scurrying like ants on their way to anyplace but here. They are part of the collage of prayer that rises in my heart. Sometimes I wrestle with truths of the spiritual life learned in the safe, secure society of robed monks and nuns and I try to apply those truths to today's society, neither safe nor secure. What is monasticism if not the road to repentance? And what is this daily voyage in the belly of the earth if not a journey of repentance? I study my companions .along t_fie way, for they will often teach me without saying a word. Busines~ men and women dressed in smart somber suits, their briefcases clutched with pro-found importance--their presence awakens me to the cries of sec-ular society. I watch students and tourists with backpacks loaded on their shoulders, leftover hippies with long hair tied in greasy ponytails. I observe ill-clad .teenagers late for school or playing hookey, perhaps, instead. The sea of humanity that ebbs and flows around me leads me deeper into contemplation of the Creator who knows them all, each by name, who reads the secrets of their hearts and hears their every longing. My fellow riders are of every race, religion, color, size, and descriptign. Together we hurl through tl~is iron tube deep in the belly of darkness. The homeless are here, too, dreary and desolate, fighting a daily battle with hunger, told, and desperation. They live on the subway trains or ride them until they are evicted, for here at least there is some warmth and shelter from the outdoor elements. Coffee cups are freqtiently extended in their dirty hands under hungry, sad, defeated eyes. What can they not teach me of poverty and penance? Indeed, I am embarrassed at the luxuries I knew in the monastery while they, the poor and dispossessed, not 328 Review for Religiog~ by vow but by reality, have perhaps not for one instant in a life-time known real comfort, security, or personal safety. They force me to reexamine everything I once took for granted. I count their sufferings in vacant eyes and in the biting fatigue on faces worn and haggard. They call me to deeper repentance without saying a single word, me who have enjoyed so much of what they lack. Outside the protection and security of the religious life, outside the shelter of community, I have come to new terms with reality, to understand at last what it really means to have no one and nothing but God. Sometimes the subway poor wander through the train speak-ing loudly, interrupting our smug self-centered silence. We are reading, we are thinking, we are silent; they are begging. They ask for change or a dollar perhaps if they feel lucky. But straphanger charity is always unpredictable. Accursed with misfortune, they ride side by side with the powerful and privileged while I, look-ing from one to the other, remember that poverty has many faces. I see it there, poverty, even among the rich, poverty of spirit and of morals, poverty of faith, bankruptcy of the soul. My heart is forced to consider the meaning of poverty in vows I took so long ago and the poverty I practice today, for after all some kind of poverty is essential to the monastic life. But everything is differ-ent now; I understand for the first time in my life the struggle for survival others must face. When I offer one of them the small and meager gift of a dollar or a dime, I know that I am here not for the purpose of teaching them but in order that I may learn. So different from the monastery classroom, this too is an education of the heart. When I left the monastery ten years ago, I fully expected to abandon forever the life I had known, for twenty-five years, the religious life. I thought I was headed for secular society, for free-dom and promise in a world without restrictions and restraints, away from the rigors of community life with all its pain and heartache. I came to New York City at the recommendation of the metropolitan. But, once here, I soon realized that I had only taken the nun out of the monastery, not out of me. All my experiments with other lifestyles served to teach me that monastic life was rooted far deeper and more intensely in my heart than I had ever dreamed. My spiritual journey continued 'far from the support of monastery routine, far from the view of the monastery community. May-.~une 1992 329 Mancuso ¯ ~1 Monastic Way in the World Indeed I found myself living alone the same monastic life I lived in the community. All I had read in years gone by concerning the Camaldolese in the West and ideorhythmic monks in the East began to make great sense to me. Could I survive spiritually as a monastic living in the world? I sought a spiritual teacher and could not find one. Then I found one, strange and unexpected, in New York City; not a per-son, but a phenomenon: this daily ride on hard cold rails of steel. The New York Subway System, harsher than the sternest spiritual father, pulled me from the gutter of despair in the dismal winter of 1981. It dragged me down the cold dark tunnel of despon-dency and forced me to choose between life and death. There I was forced to cling to God with all my might lest I fall from the subway platform by my own step and crash on the tracks below in the path of the roaring train. Ten years have healed that broken-ness. A new hunger awakened within me. A new spiritual jour-ney began as I recommited myself to the monastic way. My search for monasticism in the city led me to understand that what I needed was monasticism of the heart. I knew I could not go back before I grew up, and perhaps never. What I needed more than ever before in my life was an authentic spirituality, a genuine monasticism, for now I was a nun without a monastery, alone in a world I did not know or understand. My new cloister was the streets of the city; my new obedience, an obedience to reality and the obligations of survival. The cold, hard teacher I had found was the subway itself---with no name, no face, and no heart and demanding of me complete abandonment and total surrender to God. It spoke to me as surely as any spiritual teacher I have ever known. It spoke because my whole being was listening. I was searching with all my heart. That is what great spiritual longing does; it opens every fiber .of one's being. Then one can truly hear. At last. One listens best when no more escapes are possible. Every day, morning and evening, I found myself grappling with the mysteries of faith and reality, struggling to discern the presence of God in the secular world. The milieu of faith I had known in religious life and took so much for granted was far behind me now. I had to create one in myself if I was to retain a spiritual focus in my life. In the personless hands of this tutelage, there was no protection, no one to turn to, no arms to hold me faint with fatigue. Fear loomed up over the darkness of my soul like fog on the docks of South Street Seaport. In the beginning I 330 Review far Religiaus was angry, depressed and bitter. Confusion reigned where once I thought I knew my purposes. Conflict raged. Gradually, from daily meditation and interior prayer deep in the darkness of the earth as I traveled the subway system, there came the dawn of a soft, strong light which began to illumine the darkness of my spirit. I remembered words spo-ken to me long ago by my father when I was just a little girl: "There is no night so dark that you cannot reach out and take the hand of God." Slowly I regained perspective on the original purpose of my life, my spiritual journey. Is there, I wondered, searching my heart, the possibility of being an authentic monastic living in the world? And if there is, what shall it ask of me and how shall I answer? When the doors we have passed through are closed and locked behind us and those we have loved no longer speak our name, then indeed we must come to the truth or we shall surely perish. And if the truth should call us on alone, girded only with the armor of faith, with no assurances and no compan-ions to stave off the terror of the night, when there is no road back, we must carve our own road forward. When that which we have loved the most is forever lost to us, we must build a new tabernacle in the desert of the heart. This is the vocation of the monk or nun in the world. To bring to birth in the solitude of society an authentic monasticism of the heart, alone except for God and whatever he provides. Every morning I exit the train at Chambers Street and make my way up the subway steps. The stench of urine greets me, the first smell I perceive each day in downtown New York. I who love the warm richness of burning incense and the leaping flame of candlelight, I am thrust into this daily reminder of what is behind and what lies before me: the smell of the street and its treachery, the darkness of places where candles never flicker. I am Moses in the desert, forty years of wandering across the wasteland of Manhattan. Today I pass two Hasidim studying a subway map just outside the entrance of the train. One is bent with age, his white beard flowing over the collar of a shiny black coat. The other is young, unmarried, tall and blond with side curls fluffing out from under his black yarmulka and felt hat. They do not acknowledge me, a goy, though I pass within inches of their out- 'There is no night so dark that you cannot reach out and take the hand of God." May-~t~une 1992 331 Mancuso ¯ A Monastic Way in the World spread map. On Centre Street a Chinese peddler opens a stall, displaying his wares on two small sidewalk tables set by the curb. He and his wife sell woolen caps, scarves, sweatshirts, and pants. Their breaths steam like smoke in the windy street. Here on the next corner the Italian sausage man has been standing for several hours beside his concession wagon. Smells of sausage and sauerkraut overwhelm me as I pass, for the day is very young. I walk behind two black lawyers dressed in gray three-piece suits. They are deeply engaged in conversation with a white woman, also an attorney. She wears herself proud, this articulate lady; achievement and prominence like her gold earrings proclaim her success in a man's world. They head toward the courthouse on Centre Street carrying their serious leather briefcases with an air of profound importance. I think about pride and power and humil-ity and powerlessness. I think about the righteousness of law. A thin young man, alone and smiling, dressed in woman's clothing, sits on the bench at Thomas Paine Park, quietly hum-ming to himself. He is there every day, all day. Across the street a tall Hispanic man, handsome in his faded blue jeans and tan hooded sweatshirt, keeps his post with hand outstretched. He entertains passersby, juggling several coffee cups and telling humorous stories. Is he a fool for Christ's sake, or has he only learned to play the fool in hope of an extra quarter in his cup? When the morning crowd has passed and rush hour is over, he slumps onto a park bench and does crossword puzzles until later in the day when he will resume his trade, the daily round of beg-ging. I walk on toward Lafayette and Leonard Street. A homeless woman pushes a grocery-store cart which contains all her earthly possessions. She is wrapped in layers of rags. Near the corner of Worth Street, I notice the old cab driver, an Irishman with shin-ing blue eyes and stubbly beard. He is retired now to a life of penury, another beggar on the streets of the city. He sits on the park bench combing white disheveled hair just as he did yester-day, just as he will do tomorrow. What monk weaving baskets in the desert or writing music in a modern monastery knows greater mortification or penance than he? Soon he will change his wet socks no matter how cold it is. In the rain, in the sleet, in the snow, or in the sun I see him every day, his stack of reclaimed newspapers beside him. I wonder if he ever thinks of God, or must he always worry about his daily bread? I continue down Centre Street and lift my eyes to read words 332 Review for Religious inscribed high on the courthouse faCade: "The true administration of justice is the firmest pillar of good government." I think a lot about justice. Justice, mercy, and charity. Righteousness and law. I think about the government of our country, the government of the church and that of monastic life. I wonder about politics in places where politics should have no place, the house of God. I wonder if the hand of justice can ever reach beyond the bound-aries of political alliances, those in the world and those in the church. Does the true administration of justice happen anywhere, I wonder, and if so, when and where? Who renders justice in real-ity? Is the government of the church and that of monasteries in particular built on true justice and charity, or is it linked to the power of a few who have pleased their superiors and risen to high places? Who are the recipients of justice? And I, when shall I learn to be just? When shall I have the courage for justice and charity? Crossing the street before the light changes, I ponder the plight of those for whom justice never happens and charity is but a word, those in the world and those in the church. Now I head toward the large marble building at the corner of Lafayette and Leonard Street. Its dark charcoal .walls shine in the morning sun. It is here on the third floor that I work in the New York City Department of Probation housed in the Family Court Building. It is time now to concern myself with matters of crim-inal justice: domestic violence, restitution, probationer miscon-duct, probationer drug tests. My tasks are writing and analysis. I lay aside my morning reflections and commit myself to the day's work. It, too, has something to teach me. In the monastery I baked cheesecakes and bread, I built cabinets and furniture, grew vegetables and cooked for the community. I tended guests and prepared the hospitality we offered to strangers. Did that work dif-fer so much from the work I do today? Was it more purifying to my soul or more pleasing to God than these hours before the computer researching and writing about criminal justice? Who can say that one is somehow more pleasing to God than another? Is it not the heart that makes the difference?. Everywhere there is something to learn. Often have I looked into the eyes of a pro-bationer, understanding that we are all on probation in this world, all of us facing the opportunity to change our lives or not, and the consequences thereof. Nothing, it seems, is incapable of teaching us if we pay attention with our hearts. This is the way it is, five days a week, every week of the year. May-.~une 1992 333 Mancuso ¯ A Monastic Vday in the IVorM All about me are the signs God places in my path calling me back to himself over and over again. I gather up the fragments of the day, bits and pieces of reality, signposts and fellow travelers I have met along my way. I take them to my heart, where like candles they illumine the darkness of my soul. I pray for them as I pon-der what they have told me without speaking. I am jostled into awareness by the touch of their reality on my own. In seventeenth-century France a man named Vincent, now called St. Vincent de Paul in the Roman Catholic Church and considered by Western Christianity to be the universal father of charity, said to his first sisters--those early pioneer sisters in social service, for nuns until that time were always cloistered in monas-teries--" Your cloister will be the streets of the city and your chapel the parish church." On the streets of New York and beneath them, I have entered a new and different cloister, a spiritual one. It is not an enclo-sure; indeed, it is very open. Open to reality. Open to grace. The parish church is indeed my chapel. There in the sacred hours of Vespers and Divine Liturgy I come to understand what Vincent de Paul was talking about. It is a phenomenon of the last decades that numerous sisters, brothers, monks, nuns, and priests have left the enclosure of con-vents and monasteries and ventured forth into the world. For sure, many of them have completely turned to new lifestyles, abandoning the old. Some have married, others have entered paths altogether removed from that on which they first set their course. I am among another group, that of monks and nuns liv-ing alone in the world and striving to continue the monastic jour-ney started in community. Some may say that monks and nuns in the world cannot be monks or nuns at all. Perhaps so. Perhaps not. If monasticism is repentance and conversion of heart, surely anyone with goodwill who sets out on the path of repentance and conversion of heart is truly a monk, truly a nun. If monasticism is the search for truth and harmony in the universe, a search for God hidden beneath all the layers of reality that cover everything and everybody, then those who search are truly monks and truly nuns. If the habit does not make the monk and the essence of monasticism is seeking God above all things and striving to live the spiritual life with all one's being, then those who commit to this sacred journey--whether alone or in community, dressed in 334 Review for Religious religious attire or secular garb, recognized or not recognized by official ecclesiastical structures--are truly authentic monks and nuns. The riason of the choir is not suitable for the street, but the true choir robe of the heart is purity of intention, single-mindedness in faith, humility before God, ation. One need not live in a monastery to wear this authentic spiritual robe, and thus clothed on the inside of one's being, one is truly a monk, truly a nun. Yes, it is frightening to ~tand on the edge of the desert and know that absolutely there is no other way to pass. It is hard to go naked into the nigh.t of the spirit with no comforts, no road maps, no spiritual father or mother, no companions for sup-port or sustenance. Alone. This stripping, however, of everything we mistake for safety and security is the reality that makes us true monks and true nuns in company with those who have gone before us, the Desert Fathers of antiquity. I do not wish to compare one form of monastic life with and love for his cre- The true choir robe of the heart is purity of intention, single-mindedness in faith, humility before God, and love for his creation. another. I do not wish to contrast the merits of living in com-munity and living in the world. Rather, what I wish to ponder is the fact of the spiritual journey, the reality of the spiritual searcher whereve~ he or she may be. This inner journey never ends though everything may change. If we know that, whatever may have gone before us and whatever yet may come, there is no path for us but through the desert, no cloak for us but the mercy of God, no pos-ture but humility and repentance before his face, then we have sufficient knowledge to continue on the path. He will provide all that is needed. If we find ourselves aware that we have no road map, no comfort station, no companion to lighten our burden and cheer us along, how shall we find our way? Will fear and loneliness defeat us? Having lost or abandoned everything, the soul stands naked and empty in the face of its Creator. This is the moment of truth. Accepting our essential nakedness and littleness, we take our emptiness back to God. Kenosis. The outpouring, the emptying of our hearts. Everything we have done and have failed to do. We gather up the fragments of our lives and return them to the Lord. May-.l~une 1992 335 Mancuso ¯ A Monastic Way in the World Holy wisdom teaches us that everything lost in time will be recov-ered in eternity. Our task is but to seek the Master who calls us to the feast. Contemplating the mercy and terrible judgment of God, how shall we stand? Only in abandonment and complete surren-der, with no excuses and no demands except to pray: "Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we for-give those who trespass against us." When all the rest is taken from us or when we, like foolish children, have ourselves run from our Father's house, have nothing, we may yet have every-thing, for only faith, hope, and love remain, "and the greatest of these is love." I wonder as I wander the streets and subways of New York if the monastery is not really everywhere and monasticism everyone's journey. Over a Garden-Wall at Bambous Mission Ile Maurice Can He be jealous that I hear the music of men's loves swirling whirling over garden-walls dancing through the moonlit trees around, swirling whirling once again and around and out, now carried on the evening breeze mingling with the rustling grass and palms and shyly whispering leaves, now ebbing flowing on the turning tide of salty scented ocean air? Can He be jealous? of me? of them ? Or does He too plainly see and hear the kernel of man's pain and loss and disillusionment they waltz about? And yet He holds me tighter. Cothrai Gogan CSSp 336 Review for Religious COREY S. VAN KUREN I Leap Back Over the Wall tth le 9c5o0n ~Me n° ~ iacf~ d aid ~ni ~y _Cehi rgOh~i~ leeadr s.h ~nr r!eLfl ;c~ o0~ eOr ~eeaV idff' she recounts in classic style what occurred and what she felt as she reentered a world she did not know because of her "hiddenness" in religious life. In the past twenty-five years, many religious have left reli-gious life, and most others have experienced enormous changes in it. Many books and articles have been written about the emo-tional, psychological, and anthropological realities involved in such changes. These writings run the gamut from leaving reli-gious life altogether to changing one's status in a particular com-munity tokeeping the same status in another community with a different history, ministry, charism, or geographic center. Lawrence Rywalt CP, in the September/October 1991 issue of Review for Religious, lays out in fine fashion the realities of what goes on with those who are changing their religious life by pass-ing from a "community of origin" to a "receiving community." Throughout his article he uses terms like "a time of adolescence" to describe the mixed emotions one experiences upon entering the unknown. It is somewhat understandable to this reader, as one who is presently going through this process, that these terms are more than somewhat awkward; they may be harmful if per-ceived to be negative. Not only is there a lack of a "clear" canonical process for Corey S. Van Kuren OFMCap is currently in the reentry program of the Capuchin-Franciscan province of St. Mary (New York-New England). His address is St. Michael's Friary; 225 Jerome Street; Brooklyn, New' York 11207. May-~une 1992 337 Van Kuren ¯ I Leap Back Over the Wall The cycle of leaving/reentry can and perhaps should be perceived as a healthy pattern of living. defining this reality of "reentry," but the rarity with which it is perceived and coped with, let alone talked about, makes the use of analogy the only way to discuss it. There are no terms proper to this process, so we who exp.erience it and those who must deal with us are forced to speak in analogy or struggle to invent new ways of speaking about who and what we are. (This is as frightening as was the experience of Monica Baldwin in 1950.) In my own case, the entry/reentry process has happened a couple of times. I first entered the Capuchin Order in 1973 and left in 1981 before ordina-tion. I returned for a short stint and left again. In 1986 I was ordained a diocesan priest and now am in a reen-try program with the same province of Capuchins. I firmly believe that the cycle of leaving/reentry can and per-haps should be perceived as a healthy pattern of living. It is only through the ongoing struggle to find God's will that anyone of us is going to reach sanctity, the goal of any vocation, religious, mar-ried, or single. We need to call the emotions and behaviors they involve by their real names, instead of trying to liken them to any other experience of change. Leaving religious life is no't like divorce, an analogy often heard. Divorce usually happens after prolonged experience of anger, hurt, or at least a clear realization of irrec-or; cilable differences. My own exp~rienc~ and that of others who have talked with me is that we felt, or discerned, that the life we were leading was not what we were then called to, if indeed we ever were called to it. This is not to say that the feelings of loss were not real for us or that we did not miss the people or perhaps even the structures that w~ left behind, but the negativity of such feelings that divorce usually implies was absent. Likewise, to term the process of reentry a time of "adoles-cence" because it might conjure up feelings 6f "anger, despair, fear, chaos, denial, bewilderment, and malaise," as Rywalt sug-gests in his third stage, casts a shadow on the reality of these feel-ings as healthy or as progress or as worthy of an adult. In any event, the expectation of finding such negative feelings is pro- 338 Review for Reli~ous claimed more strongly than any thought of the possibility of feel-ing joy, peace, and a sense of "coming home"--which seems, at least to me, highly possible for those in the reentry process. Just prior to my ordination as a diocesan priest, at a meeting with Bishop Frank Harrison of Syracuse, I revealed to him one fear I had, that I was not sure that I was not called to religious life as I had previously believed and that I might feel compelled to try to reenter religious life in the future. I felt it necessary to speak to him of this feeling before ordination, and must admit that I feared his response might be that I should postpone my ordination until I was sure. Not surprisingly (in looking back and having come to know Bishop Harrison better), his response to me was wise, fatherly, and helpful. In essence, he assured me that this feeling was no reason not to go forward with ordination, pro-vided I was sure that even as a religious my call would include ordained ministry. In addition he laid no claim to knowing what God had in store for him in the future, let alone what the same God had in store for me. The question remains for me: Should it not be possible to change, to move in and through the structures of ministry as we seek God's will, without enduring the analysis of our psycholog-ical motivation, having our behaviors monitored or judgments made about the health or sickness of our actions? It seems to me that as Gospel people we would at least admit to the possibility of a religious motive, the reality of the call. We are too quick to give over to the sciences that which is spiritual, God centered, and not bound by the analysis of science. Is it a bad thing for men and women to constantly try to dis-cern God's will for them? If occasionally this discernment calls for change in structure or movement in or out of structures, need these people be subjected to an analysis of their health, a ques-tioning of their motivations, or must they live with the stigma of being unable to commit? I cannot predict whether my reentry experiment will be sue-cessful in moving me to "profess" again within the Capuchin com-munity. It is my deep hope and desire that it will. However it happens, though, I will neither judge the community nor myself at fault. Nor will I subject myself to questions whether I am mov-ing or not moving through "healthful" stages of development in the process. Prayer, the grace of God through living the Gospel counsels in common, sacramental grace, and meaningful ministry May-June 1992 339 Van Kuren ¯ I Leap Back Over the Wall will be the reality that decides for me and the community if this reentry is God's will. I find that reality comforting and assuring. I do not want to degrade the proper role of the sciences in defining the realities of our life. But as Christians, as ministers, as religious, we cannot give them positions they do not deserve. They must be seen in the proper perspective, and that means integrated with religious, spiritual realities--not taking their place. The leap back over the wall takes as much grace and courage as does the original leap over the wall. That grace and courage comes from relationship with a loving and forgiving God. Religious find this in the lives and faces of brothers and sisters more than in the psychological and scientific analysis of what is healthy or in other comparisons. A leap over the wall--a leap back over the wall--is always a leap of faith. Antiphonal With joy and gladness we cry out to you, Lord: with love and laughter make our hearts sing today from sunrise to sunset. Wisdom of God, be with us, ever at work in us: guiding our hearts and hands; our thoughts, our words, our works. How happy are we who dwell in your house, 0 Lord, forever praising you. Maryanna Childs OP 340 Review for Religious EILEEN P. O'HEA Why We Stay Aging, inadequate retirement funds, as well as the high cost of health care that paralleled and intensified these issues, were crises in religious life that Archbishop Rembert Weak]and of Milwaukee and the campaign inaugurated by the American bishops made public. This campaign aimed at bring-ing attention and monies to the plight of religious communities in America. It brought public attention to something else as well. Along with the assessments religious communities were making about themselves and the data provided by professional research organizations, it made plain that religious communities, with their median age then at 62 and rising, could be vanishing from the American culture. What to do? Get more candidates! Vocation ministry then became a recognized need in religious communities. These min-isters were given offices, cars, and money to explore solutions to this problem. What was once left to chance meetings of persons attracted to religious life now became a full-time occupation. When the problem did not get resolved with an influx of members, these vocation ministers started confronting both com-munity leaders and community members about their nonin-volvement in the process of attracting candidates. Religious communities then began to examine their collective consciences. Why are people not attracted to us anymore? Are we doing some-thing wrong? Are we no longer reflecting those religious values Eileen P. O'Hea is a Sister of Saint Joseph of Brentwood, New York. Presently she is working as a therapist and a spiritual director at Stony Lake Office Park; 2459 15th Street N.W.; New Brighton, Minnesota 55112. May-June 1992 341 O'Hea ¯ Why l~Ve Stay that attract people to want to live out the gospel in a religious community? Or have we been so coopted by materialism and our own needs that people see us as just another lifestyle with little connection to the holy and the truly religious? Or perhaps we are just not presenting ourselves, not advertising ourselves enough, not effectively reaching the public's consciousness? Not doing enough or not being enough to attract members was taken seriously by religious communities. But numbers of candidates did not increase. What religious communities found was that there were people "out there" who wanted to join them in prayer and gospel response, but not full-time. This gave birth to associate membership. These associates reminded members of religious congregations of the value and importance of community. They recognized, perhaps intuitively, that the joining of persons in faith and love is essential to the experience of realized love. Religious communities opened their doors and their hearts and found that the relationship between them and their associate members was mutually beneficial. Leaders and members of reli-gious communities latched onto this relationship as the hope for the future of religious life. This new hope was translated into a familiar organizational plan: designate a community member as director of associate membership. Give the person a car, office, and money to explore this undertaking. The beginning of associate membership brought a sigh of relief to communities. Many communities began to see associate membership as the answer to extinction. But, shortly after its ini-tiation, problems began to arise about how much "say" associate members would have in setting the direction for religious com-munities and whether they could vote for members for leader-ship positions or become leaders themselves. How much "say" would associates have about monies spent, or how much access would they have to these monies in time of need? Moreover, actual associate membership, however popular and good, is not weighted in favor of youth and vitality. Some of the individuals attracted to this membership share the same median age as the community with which they associate. Some of a dif-ferent age group visit for a while and then move on or are taken up with other commitments. Some, of course, stay and radiate to the established community their vitality, gifts, and deep spirituality. What Archbishop Wealdand did through the campaign he inaugurated was make thoroughly public what had been only 342 Review for Religious known in the privacy of religious communities. What happens to individuals when they finally express some fear out loud to a friend or therapist happened to religious communities. They could no longer deny or conveniently repress the facts of aging and dimin-ishment. When the private fears of religious communities were brought into the public forum, they became more real, more potent. The problems of aging, not attracting permanent membership, inadequate health care are realities known to members who have chosen to stay in religious life. These problems are compounded especially for women religious as they sometimes experi-ence themselves systematically oppressed by the institutional church. Women have been deeply hurt. In this ecclesial relationship, as in other personal relationships, the hurt can come only if the investment is deep enough. And it is precisely because their love for the church is so deep that women, as well as men, have experienced hurt from some of the structures, operating principles, and mind-sets of the institutional church and its representatives. Some of us have chosen to stay in religious life fully con-scious of the crises and dilemmas presented. Others have left for personal reasons such as fear about the lack of security religious life represents. Still others wrestle with the option of leaving as they look at the statistical data, their experience of the institu-tional church, and the logic of the situation. Some of the reasons people stay are very personal, some are theological, and some are mystical. My reasons for staying incorporate all of these and, I believe, represent some of the convictions and intuitions held by many. One of the sweetest gifts of religious life I have experienced is the friendships I have had and the bonding I have experienced with a group of women who are part of my community. Though I do not stay in religious life because of them, their presence is very important. If you could imagine us all standing in a circle facing a luminous light, dancing our way to that light, it would image this reality somewhat. We weave in and out of each other's lives in this dance of life, knowing the reality of the center and at times being that center of light for each other. Though I do not stay in religious life because of my friends, their presence is very important. May-~Zune 1992 343 O'Hea ¯ Why We Stay The ones not in my immediate circle I know belong to another circle of their own intimate friends. We do not experience the light in each other yet. But our experience in community and our interdependence over the years have brought us from mutual rejection or intolerance to mutual appreciation of the differences between our personalities and mutual caring about each other. Someday, after my negative intellectual and emotional program-ming has been purified, I will know that they too are light. In the meantime I am surrounded by women who, at some level, value the search and desire to be one with God and struggle to live this out in their ministry and personal life. In the novitiate our novice director told us that we would be given a hundredfold return. I could not then imagin~ what that could mean, but reflection on the past years says that is so. Although my life has been difficult at points, especially through the sting of a celibate lifestyle, it has also been life-giving and full of wonderful people and experiences that belonging to a reli-gious community has either allowed or facilitated. And although I can point to oppression in the past (religious life, like marriage and other vocations, was evolving in its understanding of itself), today I experience inner freedom. In spite of, or because of, belonging to a religious community, I have come to some under-standing of myself. I have had the opportunity, through prayer and commitment to spiritual pursuits, to know myself as loved and to realize that my being and the Being of God are the same reality. Some days I am more conscious of this truth than others; some days my own egocentricity obscures it completely. My longing to be one with God drew me to religious life. Frequently I was disillusioned by members of my religious com-munity. Each hurt, each disillusionment, forced me to peel away another layer of a psyche torn between finding its happiness out-side itself in people and things or finding happiness inside itself. It was a bright moment, a moment of light, when a deeper self was realized, a self that found within her the longing of her heart and then began to make peace and love with the external world. That process continues. Religious life helps the process. The same wise woman of my novitiate also quoted the saying about putting one's hand to the plow and not turning back. It is another reason for staying in religious life. It is not a matter of logic or assessment of security needs. Staying in community is a stance of faith. In faith I believe that my original desire found 344 Review for Religious form through religious community. The form might change or dissolve or might mimic all living organisms and go through a disintegration period before being reintegrated in a new form. I wafit to be faithful to my original commitment, which is a com-mitment of right relationship with God, of knowing and discov-eri~ ng the essence of this relationship. The task of all forms, including that of religious life, is to give expression to a deeper reality. The reality of God is beyond form. The place of faith is standing with others, community members and friends, and fac-ing together the deeper reality and not being overwhelmed as the form does whatever it needs to do. To be companioned in faith and love at this level of reality is to mirror the light, life, and love of a God who is beyond form. When sisters and brothers stand together at this place of faith, we redirect the energies of the world from its obsession with form to the Reality toward which all form is supposed to point. The creative energy of God is what we see reflected in our material universe, but the ultimate call of all human beings is to go beyond ~he reflection to the source who is Life and Being. As groups of religious unite in faith, facing into and sharing in the c~nter who is Love, they acknowledge the interrelatedness of all p~rsons in a communion of being that is beyond form. Perhaps the apparent disintegration experienced by ?eligious com-munities is part of the nec~essary evolution all living organisms go through. Perhaps it is taking us to a deeper experience of real-ity- the Reality beyond form. We, in our age, have evolved to a point where we are con-scious of being conscious. We are teeter-tottering on the edge of a new shift in consciousness. Members of religious communities have made great efforts to join with one another and to remove the psychological and emotional blocks that cause us to see our-selves as separated from each other. We have made great efforts to know ourselves at our deepest level. As we discover this deep-est self, we begin to realize that God "is" the centered self--that we (God-I) ire one. The realization of this oneness is an experi-ence that cannot be contained. It cannot be restrained by the form that is our body or the form that is religious community. As we recognize our being "in" Love, we begin to experience oth-ers no longer as other, no longer as outside ourselves--or sepa-rated from us. This is the beginning of communion consciousness. It is a way of being with each other that is beyond form. May-June 1992 345 O'Hea ¯ Why We Stay Why do we stay in religious life? We stay because the form that is religious life is still pointing us to the Reality our hearts have longed to be one with. We stay because our companions have been faithful to us and we want to be faithful to them. We stay because the greatest adventure of all, the awakening of con-sciousness to Reality, is about to happen and religious community can facilitate that awakening. We stay because we recognize love here. We stay because we know God's faithful love and want to respond with love. We stay because the form provides, 'through the experience of community and ministry, relationships of mutual love and sharing. We stay because we refuse to be intimidated by fear and a lack of security. We stay because we have put our hand to the plow and want to fulfill our commitment. We stay because our lives and commitment are about faith. We stay because in community the experience of God as Trinity is being realized and manifested in relationships that are life-giving, loving, and mutual. We stay because our intuition tells us that the experience of com-munion consciousness is about the many discovering themselves as one. We believe that the evolution of religious life is moving us closer to this discovery. We stay because true identity is realized in the discovery of the mutual indwelling of our being in the being of God and others. We stay because we want to witness to the Reality beyond form. Silence I cannot say that I no longer sing for in my heart, the while my lips are dumb, my song I keep. I only know that words no longer come to break the silent singing of a thing that lies too deep. Florian Reichert SSJ 346 Review for Religious MELANNIE SVOBODA When a Sister or Brother Leaves All of us in religious life have seen some of our brothers and sisters leave our communities even after many years. The circumstances leading to such a decision are usually complex and unique to each individual. But one fact is simple and universal: a person's decision to leave religious life has an impact on those who "decide to stay." The stronger the ties that bind us together in a religious community, the greater the pain and con-fusion when such bonds are, for all practical purposes, severed. This article explores some of the pain and confusion sur-rounding one sister's leaving. "Sue" (as I call her) is not a "real" sister, nor are these direct quotes from my own "real" journal. Such a reflection would be too personal for me to publish at this time. It would also run the risk of violating the privacy of a par-ticular individual's decision to leave religious life. Sue is rather, a composite of a number of i'eal people who have left my commu-nity and other communities as well. And though this account is fiction in the technical sense, it is nonetheless, I trust,-very true. It is my ho~e that these reflections will resonate with the thoughts and feelings of o~hers who have experienced a friend's departure from religious life. She tells me, "I'm leaving." And she wants me to be one of the first to know, before "it's announced." I sit in silence and disbe- Melannie Svoboda SND, a regular contributor to Review for Religious, resides at Notre Dame Academy; Route One, Box 197; Middleburg, Virginia 22117. May-j~ne 1992 347 Svoboda ¯ When a Sister or Brother Leaves Something is terribly wrong. Like someone has died or something, only I cannot remember who. lief in the front seat of the car. For a few moments I can say and do nothing. I am not surprised. Not really. Hasn't she been sharing her struggles with me these past three years? Didn't I suspect even a year ago that her searching and questioning would eventually lead to this: the decision to go? No, I am not surprised. But I am numbed. At least momentarily. Finally I say, "Are you sure?" And in the dim light of the car I see her nod and pull out a tissue, and I know she is crying. I reach over to her-- awkwardly over the gear shift and try to comfort her. I say her name a few times, and then I start to cry, too. For several moments we sit like that--me with my arm around her shoulder. No words. Just the sound of our soft crying. After a few moments we both sit up straight and blow our noses. In unison. We laugh at that and the laughter frees us to talk. Unhaltingly, she tells me of her most recent talks with her spiritual director, of her meeting with our provincial, and of her plans to tell her fam-ily. Everything seems decided. Everything is in place. She will leave in two months--on July 1. One day short of the twenty-eighth anniversary of her entrance into religious life. Of our entrance. I try to listen to everything she is telling me, but my mind is still stuck back there on her first two words, "I'm leaving." At the end I cry some more. I feel her hand gently on my back. I say, "I'm sorry, Sue." She thinks I mean for my tears. But I don't. "It's okay, Melannie. It's okay." But I am thinking: It is not okay. Nothing is okay. And, I fear, nothing will ever be okay again. When I wake up in the morning, I sense: something is wrong. Terribly wrong. Like someone has died or something, only I can-not remember who. I turn on the light. My eyes wince from the assault of its brightness. As my head falls back onto the pillow, "it" hits me: of course, she is leaving. How could I forget? As I slowly crawl out of bed, I feel sick to my stomach. And I know it's 348 Review for Religious not something I ate, it's not the flu. It's the thought of her going away. Later this morning she calls to ask me how I am. She asking me! I say, "Okay. How about you?" And we talk a little more. But before she hangs up she says, "You know, you cried the most. Of everyone I have told so far, you cried the most." And then she adds, "Thanks." Thanks? For what? For loving you? I go to school and I am the cheerful, competent, organized teacher you read about in all the educational journals. But it is all a sham. Inside I am dying--only no one knows. Her leaving is an oppressive burden I bear alone--for now--in secret. But maybe that is good, I think. For as long as nobody else knows about it yet, her leaving has an aura of unreality about it--which eases the pain a little. For now. o~o o~o o~o o:o I have known her for over thirty years--since we were fresh-men in high school. We sat next to each other in homeroom that year, and I liked her from the very start. She was cute, funny, lively, and (above all) good. Although we were typical teenage girls back then, we were somehow comfortable with bringing God into our more serious conversations. We were both terribly idealistic back then. My idealism nour-ished hers and hers mine. Although we made the decision to enter religious life independently of each other, we obviously influ-enced each other greatly. One month after graduating from high school, at age eighteen, the two of us entered the novitiate of the Sisters of Notre Dame--together. I decide I am taking this whole thing too morosely. I tell myself: "So, what's the big deal, anyway? You are acting as if she has died or something. That's stupid! So, a friend decides to leave religious life. So what? People make big changes in their lives all the time. "So, she is leaving. Don't make it soUnd so awful. Gone are the years when we called such departures 'defections.' Do not try to figure out her decision. Do not try to understand it. Accept it. May-~une 1992 349 Svoboda ¯ When a Sister or Brother Leaves Accept her. Stop moping. She's leaving. But life will go on--for her, for you." And just when such logic makes such good sense to me and I resolve to accept her decision with greater equanimity, she calls me on the phone and, after talking to her for an hour and hang-ing up, I cry again. Through my outpouring of words, I am celebrating her and our friendship. I talk,to Bob about her. He listens with concern and com-passion- as usual. He asks me all kinds of questions--about her, about me, about our relationship. And it is as if a dam has been broken wide open, and my words come gushing out like water. And I talk and talk. And in the talking I suddenly real-ize: I am celebrating her. Through my outpouring of words, I am celebrating her and our friendship. And it feels good. Then I tell him of my concerns for her, my fears. He listens attentively, gen-tly prodding with a question every now and then. And I am grateful, so grateful for this man who can elicit such an out-pouring from me and who is so respectful of everything I tell him. Finally he says, "You love her very much." A simple statement of fact. And I nod and smile at its obvi-ousness, and then I cry a little more and laugh, too. And later he asks, "Have you taken all of this to the Lord, Melannie?" And I stumble over my words, knowing I have not. At least not nearly enough. I tell Bob: "I keep thinking, 'God, if I love her this much, how much more you must love her.'" "That's good," he says. "That's good." And I leave Bob with a lighter heart and a clearer appreciation of my love for her-- and of my pain. And I wonder: When will I take all of this to God? Soon, I think. But not yet. I am worried about her. She is looking for a job now. She is talking about salary and taxes and insurance and getting an apart-ment. Almost all of our conversations these days are about her-- her and her plans. 350 Review for Religious It bothers me a little. Why? Do I feel left out? (I have plans, too!) Or is it that I want our relationship to return to an earlier form, to a time when our plans tended to coincide more? Whatever, I suggest to her: "The next time we get together, let's do something. Like go bowling or even to the zoo or some-thing, okay?" She says okay. I am relieved, for I am tired of talking about her, about "it." But as soon as I admit this to myself, I feel small and selfish. I do not understand her reasons for leaving. They are deep and go back many, many years. She still believes in religious life, she tells me. She still loves our community. And yet leaving us is something she feels she has to do. I do not understand, but I believe she has to do this. That belief makes her going easier for me to accept. o~o o~o o~o o.'o I loved her before we were Sisters of Notre Dame. I will con-tinue to love her afterwards, too. Yet I sense (and so does she) that there will be a change in our friendship--a significant change. After all, our shared commitment in the same religious commu-nity has been a vital part of our friendship. With that pai't gong, we are both wondering: How much wili our friendship be altered? And will the two of us be up to such an alteration? These past few days have been "guilt days." I keep thinking: Did I, as a friend, fail her? Is that why she is leaving? Maybe there is something I could have done that would have prevented her from making this decision. Maj'be .I could have been more sensi-tive, more caring, more supportive, more . Or did we as a religious community let her down? Is there something we as a community should be doing to prevent all these departures? Maybe we are overworked. Maybe we are focusing too much on ministry and not enough on each other. Maybe we are living the life all wrong.-Maybe., maybe., maybe. Bob says,"Youwomen really do get emotionally involved in each other~ lives." May-.~une 1992 351 Svobodu ¯ When a Sister or Brother Leaves I ask, "Don't you men feel like this when a brother leaves your .community?" "No," he says, "with us it is different. I do not think we feel it nearly as much as you women do." If what Bob says is true in men's communities, there is a part of me that envies men. But, then again, there is a part of me that feels sorry for them. Peg calls. She knows now, too. Finally someone in the com-munity I can talk to about it. "What do you think?" she asks me. And I tell her what I think. Then she shares with me her feel-ings. She is hurt. She is angry. She is worried about Sue. And now there is an added dimension to my own pain: seeing the pain Sue's leaying is having on others like Peg. But it is Peg's anger that takes me aback. So far I have not felt any anger, have I? Only hurt. Only worry. But now I wonder: Am I denying my anger? Am I letting Sue leave us too easily? Should I be fighting more to make her stay? Is my acceptance of her decision my way of lessening my own pain? Of easing my anger? I do not know what to think anymore. At the break at the meeting, Carol grabs me by the arm and pulls me out into the hall. "What's with Sue?" she asks brusquely. Not sure how much she already knows, I ask, "What do you mean?" Immediately I sense her irritation: (She has ne;cer been known for patience--or gentleness.) "Okay, Melannie, you can spare me the gory details. I know she is leaving. All I want to know is: Is she going to be okay?" I nod. "Yes, she is going to be okay." Carol seems satisfied--with that tiny scrap of information. I am amazed at how little it takes to appease hei', how little she wants to know. But maybe I am reading her wrong. Maybe she is just being extremely respectful of Sue's privacy. Whatever, she walks back into the meeting seemingly content. It was announced today. In a letter from the provincial. One brief paragraph. (Over twenty-five years of living religious life, and one short paragraph to tell the community of your leaving.) She 352 Review for Religious has asked for a leave "for personal reasons." Let us "remember her in our prayers," and so forth. How many times have I read such announcements? You would think I'd have gotten used to them by now. But I never have. I hope I never will. When I get the letter and read it, I cry again. How strange. I have not cried in weeks about "it." Why now? Then I realize: the announcement finalizes "it." There is no denying her leaving now, no turning back. It is a fact. And every sister in the community knows it now, too. o:o o:. o~o .:o Mary meets me in the hall, and I can tell by her eyes what she is going to say before she says it. "I just read the announcement about Sue, Melannie," she says softly. "And--and I guess I just want you to know: I am praying for her--and for you. I know it must be hard." She puts her hand on my shoulder. I smile. I say, "Thanks, Mary. Thanks." But two people are struggling inside of me. One is saying, "Yes, comfort me! Please comfort me!" while the other one is screaming, "Go away! I do not want your pity! Go away!" So, she is gone. Officially. Not completely, of course. She is still "connected" to us, for the church does not ordinarily permit a quick egress from religious life. Rather, it encourages a gradual one. She is still one of us, although living in an apartment now and working on her own. She will stay in touch with "us" by her contact with the provincial, with one of our local communities, and with a few of us, her closest friends. I tell myself, "She might come back. Some do, you know-- after doing what they have to do or whatever . " But I know in my heart: hardly anyone ever does. I call Sue. It has been weeks since we talked. The spaces between our conversations and meetings are getting wider, I notice. She is upset because she feels her leaving has hurt so many sisters. She knows some are angry with her. She says, "Why can't they see that my leaving is not an indictment against religious May-June 1992 353 Svoboda ¯ When a Sister or Brother Leaves life or their decision to stay? Why can't they just accept my deci-sion?" I say something like, "Well, maybe you have to give them more time, Sue. After all, you took years to make your decision. Now give them time to work through accepting it." I see Bob ~again. He asks about Sue. "Have you begun to deal with what effect her leaving is having on you personally--and your own commitment?" "Not really," I say. "I think I am still wallowing in the pain of losing her. And I am still too worried about her to think too much about myself. And I am so busy, too." ("Mercifully busy," I think to myself.) He listtns attentively and then says, "That's okay--for now. But it will come, you know. Sooner or later. You will have to deal with it: your own decision to stay." I know he is right. At the community meetings this week, I miss her very much. I expect to see her in the hall, to have lunch with her, to laugh with her. Only she is not there. Afterwards I call and talk to her, but I do not know how much of these community meetings to share with her, how much she wants to hear about what "we" are doing. And I sense I am beginning to see her as no longer a part of that "we." If only she were more sure of herself. If only I saw more direc-tion in her life, more certitude. But she still seems so direction-less, biding her time with this temporary job, still searching for who knows what. Everyone asks me, "How is Sue doing?" And I never know how to respond. If I say, "Fine," that is a lie. She is not fine. She is confused, lonely, and struggling. But if I say, "She i~ having a really hard time right now," that is misleading, too. It makes it sound as if she has made a mistake in leaving us. So, not knowing how to respond to their inquiries, I usually end up saying, "She is okay--but it is hard, you know." And my 354 Review for Religious voice trails off, and I think I have communicated the truth as well as it can be communicated. I love her. I care about her. I miss her. That is all I am trying to say, God. These jottings are perhaps too focused upon me and not enough upon her. But I entrust even that to your love as I try to entrust all things--especially Sue. She leaves. I stay. Why? Forever I have never lived in forever. ? where love is always and night never comes. Tonight, as I crawl into the arms of your Love, God, the idea of lasting forever causes a shudder thru my being. I have never known forever. ? here, everything ends. Day ends when night comes. and Yesterday is different from Today or Tomorrow. Here nothing is always the same. As I lie here thinking of your Love that lasts forever, two pains f!ll my being-- fear and desire, because I who had a beginning will join You in life unending. I have never known forever. ? Vowed to You, I promise to persevere unto death. Should I not say, ". into life"? Claire Mahaney RSCJ May-j~une 1992 355 BRIAN B. MC CLORRY The Integral Sabbatical transitions I woke very early on a June morning, restfully uncertain where I was and so checked the surrounds with interest, coffee and cigarette in hand, looking for a sound, geo-graphical answer. The sunlight was bright, the landscape clear: Holman Island, Northwest Territories, Canada, some three hundred miles inside the arctic circle. The third and final part of my sabbatical had begun. Holman seemed a far cry from the Jesuit Renewal Center in Milford, Ohio, where the sabbatical had started, a far cry from Cambridge, Massachusetts, where I had spent a semester at the Weston School of Theology. It was all a far cry from Leeds, England, where I had been Catholic chap-lain for the University and Polytechnic. Both in Cambridge and Milford I had been mildly surprised at the number of people, mainly religious, who were also on sabbatical. No doubt there is a tendency for sabbatical people to frequent the same watering holes when they are not wandering the earth visiting their con-gregation's communities. Sabbaticals are now common among religious, and in the religious press sabbatical pro-grams are widely advertised. The sabbatical now seems to be an unexceptional part of religious life in much the same way that, for some congregations, the tertianship--a kind of compulsory spiritual sabbatical--is an integral part of formation. This is clearly a new development. Brian B. McClorry SJ writes from Manresa House; 10 Albert Road; Harborne; Birmingham B 17 0AN; England. 356 Review for Religious In the 1960s sabbaticals were primarily a way of dealing with problem people or people with problems. It was, of course, a moot point whether the problem belonged to the persons involved or to their congregations. These sabbaticals were, in part, ways of responding to developments which were unforeseen, confusing, and frequently unwelcome. Sometimes they were mainly thera-peutic or disciplinary. There is likely to be a healing element in many sabbaticals, but it is right to allow sabbaticals a valid exis-tence on the far side of therapy. Recently the sabbatical has been reintroduced as a disciplinary measure by congregations and Roman authorities in an attempt to save an order or an ortho-doxy felt to be imperiled. Again the question remains whether it is the person or the institution that stands in need of a sabbatical. This, however, is not a question I will discuss here. There were and are "problem," "therapeutic," and "disciplinary" sabbaticals as ' well as those associated with academic work. But none of these is unexceptional and integral to religious life. The integral sabbat-ical, however, is new. Of course it may well be asked how integral to religious life sabbaticals really are, even at a more or less empirical level. Neither all congregations nor all religious make use of them. Indeed, when taken, not all sabbaticals are greeted in a sufficiently sabbatical fashion. There is the itch to justify or to decry, a ten-dency to view sabbaticals as a reward, or a vacation, or as a debt to be paid. That there are many kinds of response to the statement "I am on sabbatical . . ." is sufficient reason for discussion. Moreover, if religious make widespread use of sabbaticals, the diocesan clergy in the main do not. There are regional and denominational variations. Sabbaticals are commoner among diocesan priests in the United States than in England; the Methodist Church in England has a policy and a provision for sabbaticals whereas Roman Catholic dioceses in England do not-- except in a very negative sense. The questions raised both by sab-baticals and their absence are of widespread interest. In what follows I will try to examine way~ of understanding the "integral" sabbatical, using my sabbatical experience as a kind of case study. This approach inevitably will be limited, but not inevitably limiting. There are no absolute anecdotes: individual cases are also part of our social, cultural, economic, and religious history. Most serious questions will be left decently unanswered on the ground that closure is ordinarily premature. May-d~une 1992 357 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical Timing and Validation One clear and important element in evaluating and preparing for sabbaticals is timing. Scriptural tradition designates every sev-enth year as a sabbatical year. The British province of the Society of Jesus provides for h sabbatical ten years after tertianship. Having a policy, provided it is not applied woodenly, allows indi-viduals to have and to plan for sabbaticals. It also allows the con-gregation to suggest them more easily. It is at the level of policy that the question of justifying sabbaticals emerges with particular force. Are sabbaticals.justifiable? As with many questions, this one is best approached not directly, but through the categories which are found helpful in discovering the kind of thing a sabbatical might be. There are, of course, lines of thought in the scriptural tradition. Originally the intention behind the sabbatical year was to give rest to the land, the vineyard, and the olive grove. This rest would give the poor and the wild animals a chance to eat (Ex 23:10-11) and allow debts to be remitted (Lv 15:2). There would be no scarcity, for the "sabbath of the land" itself would provide enough food (Lv 2 5:6). The help given to the poor was not to be confined to the sab-bath year (Dt 15:9), for this sabbatical value was of permanent importance and validity. What is involved here is a careful knowl-edge of the land, plants, and animals--and the perception that the workings of the economy both damage these and do violence to the community. People are squeezed out and forced into the powerlessness of debt. The sabbatical year is a piece of positive discrimination and a recall to the tru~ values and creative origins of the community. Parallels are problematic, but it may make sense to view the contemporary sabbatical in these terms rather than as intrapersonal refurbishing or as an opportunity for gain-ing skills or knowledge. To leave for a time the work we do may well benefit that work (there will be, it seems, no shortages), and both the work and the workers may recover their creative ori-gins. We may begin once more to perceive whfit is demanded and who is excluded both in our work and in our societies. In this sense a sabbatical may be an effective symbol of grace and faith, of justice and peace. The link between "sabbatical" and "sabbath" is obvious. Whether or not this is the beginning of a line of thought in favor of the "integral" sabbatical, the question of timing remains. Timing is not simply a matter of administrative convenience or 358 Review for Religious possibility, nor is it only a question of calendars, frequency, and opportunity. Some years ago I had a particularly trying period of ministry in a poor inner-city area. The ministry failed. The team failed to work together--a failure in which I was implicated deeply. Eventually the project was closed. I was hurt, angry, and had come to the end of the road. The off-road terrain was hardly visible. I scarcely believed I had energy enough left to start afresh any-where and so began to dally with the seductive idea of a sabbati-cal and its promise of escape. Fortunately my provincial suggested that I return to university chaplaincy work--a ministry I had known and liked. To my surprise I agreed quickly and easily and, in the event, found to my delight that the energy and interest were still there. The work therapy worked. After four years, how-ever, it became clear that my old and easy patience with under-graduates was wearing thin, that I wanted to spend my time with faculty, ecumenical questions, and issues affecting the institutions themselves rather than with students. It was not the end of the road, just time to go. Then the idea of a sabbatical reemerged, tinged with excitement, less seductive but more promising. The sabbatical promised to be less therapeutic or escapist than it would have been if taken earlier. It would be more positive, an affair of discovery. Sabbaticals are "integral" in more ways than one: they are better timed the more they are at one with the positive move-ments of our life stories and not just snagged on fragment.s of these narratives. Better timing, it seems, might also lead to a bet-ter content. Content and Desire Academics on sabbatical might well do research, though many academics speak of sabbaticals in terms not reducible to academic research. Nonacademics also might want to do research, to con-template steadily or ferret away busily in some area which comes into view as life-giving, deeply interesting, part of the emerging oudines of a mysterious but attractive future. On occasion it makes sense to learn skills that can be put to determinate use. Sometimes it is better to do woodwork. Clearly the content of a sabbatical varies indefinitely and could even include the possibility of a care-fully mixed cocktail. I wanted to have time, space, and the right environment for reading and writing. So much was a felt need. I also wanted to follow a program in spiritual direction. For many May-June 1992 359 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical years I had given one or two directed retreats a year and won-dered what, if anything, I had learned from the experience and what, if anything, I imagined I was doing in this ministry. It seemed that retreat work of some kind was a likely future. For me woodwork was not a serious contender--although I can almost smell the i:eel of the grain. Behind the question of content--what, after all, shall I do?- there is the matter of imaginati6n and desire. What do I really desire? How free or frozen is the imagination that shapes our conscious desires? What are the desires that might free or freeze our imaginations? It does not do to link desire solely with what is conventionally good, for there is more to good than convention supposes. It does not do to mold imagination only by pi'agmatic realism, for realism can imprison as well as free our imaginations. Desire is a matter of discovery and strange meetings: a geography of uncertainty and power. Maps for desire do not exist, for it is a contemplative heuristic, a medium in which mystery is disclosed. It is not, however, an infallible heuristic. A year before he died, a friend who had many desires told me, "I have never known what I really wanted to do." Desir~ is not exhausted in the desires we know we have. In Genesis the naming of animals is, in a strange and unfem-inist narrative, part of a search that culminates in the joyful, real-ized completion of creation. God brings the animals to the man to see what he would call them (Gn 2:19). To stay long enough in prayer so that completing the sentence "I want." is done iri God's presence is to begin to name those elements of ourselves and our world which God brings to us for naming. We may name what is incomplete or destructive in us, or what lacks integration in our lives. In this naming w~ may be set free of what possesses Us, an exorcism in which the demons, if they return, have no real power. We are freed from d~fensiveness and become less timid. Alternatively, we may find that we name our positive desires and find in this naming that the truth of our seeking and welcoming is revealed. In both cases the disclosure of the God who, in Christ, dream~ with us brings with it freshness and discovery. The con-tent of a sabbatical, however practical or impractical it may be, is also to be discovered, found out, stumbled across, given. The content of a sabbatical should resonate with or express the desires we discover in us, desires which at the same time help us find out what a sabbatical--or a life--might be like. 360 Review for Religious Even though my imagination was thin, my desires were real enough: an intern.ship in spiritu, al direction at Milford and a semester of reading at Weston. I felt there was much to be dis-covered in the course of these programs that would be enjoyable and useful. I did not envisage any discoveries jolting my paradigms. At Weston I would go on a light diet and look for space. There were, however, some four months of the sabbatical which were as yet undetermined. The "third world" was not a strong contender. I had recently spent a hard but exhilarating summer in Guyana and, years before, had done my tertianship in India. A journey to Zimbabwe or to South Africa always remained a possibility. Whatever the status of my gawky ratio-nalizing, the truth was that I had no particular desire to go to the third world. I found I wanted to go to northern Canada. The experience would be new, which is one value in sabbatical planning; but it was the desire to go, rather than arbitrary novelty, that mattered. Certainly I wanted to be far from known places and defined expectations; there was the lure of the north with its sparse and spacious environment and its rather specialized attractions of ice and snow. That world would have a different scent: snow alters aromas. The Canadian north had always been attractive to me, and once or twice I had sniffed at its fringes. But although the desire to go was clear, its rationale was elusive, mysterious. It had to do, I thought, with going to a large, remote, and cold place in order, paradoxically, to unfreeze my imagination and creativity. The north was the right environment for that kind of event, in some sense the necessary place. Moreover, there was the remote but dramatic possibility of spending time in the Canadian arctic. I liked the dramatic frisson, expected something to "happen," and found that the prospect enhanced the attractiveness of the sab-batical as a whole. It gave a sharp edge to the enterprise and I looked forward to that edge. I got out maps and wrote to bishops. The desire had emerged and persisted. The provincial concurred; the bishops in the north agreed. So much for the discernment. I write, of course, after the event--with the heightened accu-racy and inaccurate overclarity which marks retrospectives. Sometimes, however, the content of a sabbatical is found largely Sometimes the content of a sabbatical is found largely in retrospect. May-3~ne 1992 361 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical in retrospect. Characteristically I planned my sabbatical carefully. I was not going to drift into a sabbatical and discover afterwards that a sabbatical is what I might have had. My time would be spent well, responsibly, even originally. But planning has its times and seasons, and for many "planning" and "exploration" are hyper-active metaphors better replaced by "contemplation" and "wait-ing." A friend of mine spent the first three months of a sabbatical year waiting to see what he wanted to do; another spent some months after his sabbatical finding out what he had done and what his desires had been. It seems that the justification of sab-baticals and their content lies in the mysterious priority of desire and imagination rather than in efficient planning and declared good intentions. There is some need for discernment of desire and imagination, for neither whim nor designer image is a suffi-cient guide. Conventionally, the value of a sabbatical rests on enhanced skills, published research, a revitalized person. The generous mea-sure of truth in these pictures--which do express something of our desires--should not obscure another dimension. Sabbaticals are in some respects like parables.~ Jesus' parables carry many meanings and so have a capacity to interact in many and new ways with our lives and cultures, Sometimes the parables break under their own realism--ninety-nine sheep are left unprotected in the course of the search for the one which is lost. The parables both disjoint our ways of looking at and being in the world and open up new and energetic possibilities. On this basis it is mean-minded to settle effectivelyon one allowed description of a sabbatical, for example, "study leave." What matters is that sabbaticals are allowed to become parables, polyvalent narratives whose realism does not determine the story. Milford and Cambridge It is a commonplace that programs in spiritual direction include much "listening." Accurate, active, contemplative, prophetic, and holistic listening--with individuals and in a group--are all elements in a conversation. They are ways of dis-covering what may be going on in prayer or life--ways of finding a path that fits and may.lead somewhere. No doubt I learned and relearned some skills at Milford and welcomed the lines of inquiry and interest which these engendered. Such learning, however, is 362 Review for Religious notoriously not neutral or unaffecting. Listeners listen also to themselves; and, when they become conscious or aware of what they hear, there is the possibility and gift of a transformation which is not reducible to the addition of skill to skill. So I found, in a time of surprise, a change in me which was about trusting and expecting more from God. The coloration of my world shifted, its shape altered. The world I stepped into was a friendly place and the friend-liness was to be trusted. This perceived feature of the world was not a purely intrapersonal shift. Nor was it entirely an empirical affair. My father moved from house to hospital and from hospi-tal to a retirement home with his memory impaired. I returned to England for a few weeks to help the moves and to sell the house. The Gulf War started unbelievably and ended with unseeing cel-ebrations. Ten feet from me in a bus in Boston a man was shot in the face on Good Friday. But the world was friendly because God was in the world and the world was in God. This discovery did not invite me to rush into developing a theodicy or to reread the old ones, to put together friendliness and unfriendliness. If there was a theodicy, it would be rooted in, among other things, a complex attentiveness to the world, which was in God, and to God, who was in the world. Both the friendliness and the unfriendliness of the world called forth the look of friendly regard. This, the grace-ful face of panentheism, seemed new--a well-remembered face seen as if for the first time. This friendliness connected with specific matters in spiritual direction. In the language of Ignatius's Spiritual Exera'ses, I became better able to trust "consolation" both in myself and in retreatants. God, after all, relates to consolation and desolation in different ways. The relationship to desolation is real but entirely provi-sional; what characterizes God's action is consolation. In this friendliness it also became possible to sit happily with my igno-rance when giving spiritual direction. "Not knowing" was nei-ther a fearful void to be filled nor an affront to be denied. It was not an affront to competence but a resource to be tapped. To sit with ignorance was to be in danger of finding out, with the part-ner in the conversation, what good thing was happening, what shape hope might take. Such changes in ways of looking at and being in the world are at one with the Old Testament tradition on sabbaticals: a recovery of creative origins. They may happen in the staid, sup- May-d~une 1992 363 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical portive, and challenging world of the Jesuit Renewal Center-- although Milford, Ohio, is not a location which of itself provokes radical insight. (Sometimes it seemed that many areas of our planet are invisible from Ohio.) But changes may also require places or environments which are marginal or shocking. A friend of mine spent most of his sabbatical working in a refugee camp in Thailand. What can be hoped for, wherever we go, is that changes include but are not restricted to intrapersonal health and survival. They will also include the world in which we ordinarily live but have only partly discovered. We may also hope to accept and to find that we do not control the narrative of the sabbatical--nor does the institution or environment in which we find ourselves. Such hoped-for changes, as in the Old Testament tradition, do not need to be confined to the time of a sabbatical, but can have a more permanent validity. With some loss of narrative control, I spent a few weeks in Montreal and Quebec City writing fiction (short stories in which I struggled with and for the narrative) before descending on Cambridge, Massachusetts. The semester at Weston was to be reflective: a few seminars for social reasons and an amount of reading. There was much to delight in, from Erich Auerbach's Mimesis to Annie Dillard's Teaching a Stone to Talk. The reading mattered. Someone said that Annie Dillard's writing evidenced "an amoral hospitality to experience." What price could the dis-cernment of spirits fetch here? Auerbach's literary criticism dis-tinguished a high style, quite divorced from the ordinary life of undistinguished people, from a style, also high, which found won-drous significance in commonplace lives and circumstances. If Milford was about trusting God in a world in which consolation and friendliness were to be trusted, Cambridge was about doing that in the ordinary present--the place where true hospitality lies. For some periods of time I had felt (often with good reasons) that there were important things to be done which were not real-izable in the job I had, the place I was in, the circumstances in which I found myself. Matters were unsatisfactory. Something of this feeling is, perhaps, an occasional inevitability. Life is unsat-isfactory in different ways and at a variety of levels. But a gap can open between the present and the significant future which robs both of any real value. Of a character in Raymond Chandler's The Big Sleep, the narrator says, "He was looking over into the next val- 364 Review for Religious ley all the time. He wasn't scarcely around where he was." The gap, of course, is about faith as well as presence. There can be a belief in a "god within" who does not welcome the present and a belief in a "god without"--usually absent from the present--in whose future greatness is promised. These two gods are awkward little idols who are not on speaking terms, but who conspire to augment the discomfort of the believer. In the disappearance of the gap between the present and the significant future, there is the loss of two idols, of two gods, and a being found by the one God. Monotheism turned out to be a very powerful affair. The disappearance of the gap, the exiling of the idols, helped me to let go of some things I would never do, however grand the significant future and the pointed present. This was not asceticism or realism, that doubtful consoler. In friendliness and free from the idols, I found there was no need to package myself, to tie up in well-wrapped parcels who I am and what I do. I become pack-aged for reasons of defense and success. But these energy-con-suming activities turned out to be not only harmful but also, and more importantly, unnecessary. The fears that provoked packag-ing became heavily relativized. John Macmurray has a striking remark about fear: The maxim of illusory religion runs: "Fear not; trust in God and he will see that none of the things you fear will happen to you"; that of real religion, on the contrary, is "Fear not; the things that you are afraid of are quite likely to happen to you, but they are nothing to be afraid of.''2 There may well be matters about which it is right and proper to be afraid, but the fear that provokes packaging turns out to be wonderfully otiose. What emerged in Cambridge and had been emerging in Milford was a new sense of integration or fit, not only in me but in how I am present in the world. I preferfit, with its sense of a curve fitting spot readings, a trail in the wilderness which finds the nature of the landscape, a saying in a conversation which res-onates and reveals. "Integration" is a touch static and inward. The appearance of the fit had precisely the quality of exploration and discovery--exploration within and, at one with that, explo-ration of the world. A man lies bleeding in the aisle of the bus, sol-diers pray for peace as the Gulf War ultimatum runs out, people have the glow and the shock of the Holy Spirit on their faces, the books are in the library, the seminar sparkles, and the cold May-June 1992 365 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical in Quebec City gnaws the bones by the frozen St. Lawrence out-side the first Jesuit house in Canada. In all of this idols vanish, the world has a new curvature, and God dreams and surprises. Sabbaticals are times for heralded and unheralded exploration and discovery. These are prime sabbatical hopes and valid extrasabbatical values. Going to northern Canada, to the remote places, seemed like an appropriate continuation of this journey. It had also the character of a celebration. Yukon and Northwest Territories From one point of view, I went north in order to "supply" in parishes and on mission stations. It would be a time of much trav-eling and short stays. As the sabbatical proceeded and the time for departure drew closer, I found that what I wanted was simply to be in the here and now, in that environment, with those people. To be present in a friendly, contemplative, unpackaged, and reflec-tive fashion was what mattered. I did not want to undertake a study tour or become a tourist. Nor did I want to stay in one place "working" or creating a proactive availability. For this period, rootedness was not a value. Staying wherever the bish-ops3 suggested would keep me free of programs, encourage a being present which had little predetermined character--and yet would allow me to give myself and others a ready and real account of what I was doing and why I was there. Performing a small ser-vice was a satisfactory blessing and a gift I needed. I also wanted to look at the landscape and to see what hap-pened when I looked. The environment, I thought, would announce itself in ways which could not be honored simply by going for a walk. From this viewpoint people were secondary, but there is an environmental dimension inseparable from human life and it seemed that the native people would be at one with their environment. That people were secondary in my immediate inter-ests was not a dismissive attitude. So I looked at the landscape-- from the ground and from the air in light planes. In Yukon Territory it turned out to be difficult to look steadily at the moun-tains, valleys, lakes. What was there remained veiled by a prodi-gal facticity, and I had to set myself repeatedly not to turn aside. To sit' with this ignorance was also difficult. "This coast is too beautiful," said a man in the Vancouver airport to a friend; "get me another beer." Eventually the season of looking (after winter 366 Review for Religioto and before summer) itself turned out to be curiously privileged. The mountains disclosed more of themselves when their features were picked out by a light snow cover than when blanketed by heavy snow, or as free of snow as they might be in the late sum-mer. All seasons are privileged and so--also and therefore--was this present time. Eventually it became possible to see shapes, colors, and variations--to pick out the crude outlines of the geol-ogy. At what seemed an infinite cost, it became possible to look steadily. The startling landscape and harsh climate provoked ques-tions. Although the land is beautiful, some of the "southerners" who have come to stay cannot tolerate the winter isolation and depression. The land is wonderful and the energy people expend relates them closely to the environment; but mining marks the landscape. The slag heap grows huge in the middle of the valley by the mine in Cassiar; the tailings continue to mark the Klondike. But in Elsa, a ghost mining town, there is no human activity. The trees, lynx, and martin--the original inhabitants--are beginning to reclaim their territory. To what does this expenditure of energy and ingenuity relate? Sometimes--often--the energy is not expended. Without employment the choices seem to be contem-plation, alcoholism, activism, or hibernation. But the southerners who come and stay--or who return with regularity--seem to be larger and more significant than I imagine they would be if they had remained "outside." It is as if the landscape gives them value and importance or allows their significanFe to emerge and flour-ish. Some come north for a time of healing or to step away from unaccommodating circumstances; others are on the run and bring their pursuers with them. At best there is more than eccentricity and escapism. Lives are lived with old values brought from the south which are given room and enhancement by the land; new values are recognized and welcomed in small towns in the moun-tain wilderness. Strong views coexist with tolerance, showing a respect for people similar to the necessary respect for the climate. At times there is scant respect for environmentalists, who are seen to have a relationship with the country and the animals which is thin and unreal compared to that of miners, hunters, and trappers. Yet downstream from Whitehorse the waters are polluted. The pollution amazes: the Yukon, though twice the area of the United Kingdom, has a population of only about thirty thousand. Despite the invitation and the rewards, I found it difficult to May-~t~une 1992 367 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical sit, to be, to contemplate, and see. My head, eyes, and feet were always in danger of being drawn away toward the future or toward present effectiveness. There was the ridiculous itch to justify how I spent my time here, in one of the most privileged environments on earth. To look, to appreciate and hear, were not more impor-tant but, rather, prior necessities. So much, it appeared, would be true for me also in the United Kingdom. There, too, I would need to discover how to look and listen. Eventually these dis-tracting energies, these pieces of unbelief, became insubstantial. Sitting in the dust--the gold dust--of Dawson acquired power. What mattered were walks along the banks of the Yukon River, taking care to identify the ducks. Surf scoters! This identifying and naming were not violently dismissive (a "that's that and what next?" attitude) but allowed what I saw to become part of the public world, made it shareable and so part of a communal promise. In some places the forests were thin. It was possible to move through them without following a trail or struggling through the undergrowth and fallen trees. Twice the bright' bark of the birch trees seemed to give light. The forest was lit from within: an event as unexpected and as usual as a fox crossing the road. I left the Yukon for the Northwest Territories. The flight from Whitehorse to Yellowknife exchanged vertical country for a horizontal landscape: a flat, flat land. Whitehorse, in mountain-ous country, has few buildings over three stories; Yellowknife, in a terrain that scarcely undulates, is full of high-rise buildings. So do we mark in our architecture our estimates of ourselves and our relationship to the land. The short Yukon spring, when all the trees came out in leaf during one afternoon, also vanished. I flew to Victoria Island, well north of the arctic circle, where there are no trees. It was snowing at Coppermine and Cambridge Bay, the snow flung horizontal by the wind. The frozen bay and the tundra do not make for "beautiful country," but they are exhila-rating: some snow remains and there are occasional, new flowers close to the ground. I see it as keenly and as vividly as the jaguar I saw in a Guyanese village two years ago. The twenty-four-hour sunlight and the intricate flatness of the land, heaved up into flat-topped rock formations near Holman, enliven my tentative pres-ence in these astonishing places. Suddenly the tundra is a place for happiness.4 There is excited wonder at the native people leaving their 368 Review for Religious houses and going to live in "camp" or "on the land" as the win-ter subsides, at the sleds, skidoos, and boats lining the bay and half covered in snow, the profusion of dog lines. There are the inviting enigmas of the snow and ice (color coded like the houses, where the color gives information about origin and ownership), the wreck of Amundsen's Maud. I walk by houses in spaces which are hardly streets, greeting and being greeted, enjoy the camps, am on holy ground. People here do not live "off the land" like Europeans on safari in what became African colonies; they live "on the land." Certainly they do not have "a place in the country." Marie Zarowny, interviewing the Dene and Inuit peo-ple about their political, economic, social, and cultural concerns, found that these were, for the people, inseparable from spirituality: "We are deeply spiritual and our spiritual power comes from the land . Our spirituality is tied in with the animals.''s I found, in this land of the Copper Eskimos,6 a desire for a project, a Gospel activity, and began to sense something of what it might be as I w.alked the tundra, cut inland by the lakes and pancake-topped striated banks, as I prayed in 'the mornings. It is to live and explore the belief that God in Christ is active in the middle of' our creativity and destructive-ness-- and to do so partly in terms of neglected areas of Ignatius's Spiritual Exercises. The context for this would be ecumenical. The people involved most likely would be marginal in ecclesiastical and social terms. Maybe something of this could be said in pub-lic language. I imagine a thin book as sharp, bright, and useful as a razor. The idea is not new. What is new is the tangibility given an idea by the land. The book does not itself matter. What counts is the invitation to live and move in this way. So much is a possible event, the gift that is also a product of looking and sit-ting with ignorance, of listening and friendliness. It is frail but real. Cautious at first, a caribou crosses the trail and moves off across the tundra, splashing through the meltwater and covering the bare ground and remaining patches of snow at a determined trot. An arctic hare appears, each hair individual and alive, crouches down ten feet away, and remains still, long-eared, and eye to eye. What mattered were walks along the banks of the Yukon River, taking care to identify the ducks. May-June 1992 369 I fly south of the arctic circle to Yellowknife, for two weeks in the parish--weeks full of conversations. Then I go on to Fort Smith, by the Alberta border, for a similar two weeks. It is good to sit by the Rapids of the Drowned on the Slave River watching the pelicans, the birds clearly at home in the spilling and swirling waters. Living "on the land" spoke of ways of living in the United Kingdom. Waiting for the looked-at and walked-over landscape to disclose itself speaks of a wider connectedness, a solidarity. I remember the six Jesuits and two women murdered in E1 Salvador on 16 November 1989. Later I fly north again, north of the cir-cle, to Inuvik. There I wonder once more about space and people: the Northwest Territories are larger than Western Europe and have a population of about 55,000. I do not know what this con-trast might mean or what it is to populate or overpopulate the land. In a short while I will exchange these huge and empty spaces for my own overcrowded little island, where every piece of land seems like an archaeologist's find. Meanwhile there is the Mackenzie delta to see--the delta of the Decho, to use the Dene name--and the small settlement of Arctic Red River to visit. But sabbatical time is running out. When I arrive back in England I will have spent some four months never passing more than two weeks at a stretch in any one place. Afterwards It is usual to say that those who travel undertake an inner journey as well as an outer journey. Covering distance, when the travel is a pilgrimage, is a metaphor for a change of mind and heart. Explorers explore also themselves and their own cultures. Similarly the landscape, the land on which we put our feet and live, is an exterior landscape which affects and is affected by our interior landscape. Barry Lopez, contemplating the "bleak and forsaken" aspect of Pingok Island in the Beaufort Sea, writes: The prejudice we exercise against such landscapes, imag-ining them to be primitive, stark, and pagan, became sharply apparent. It is in a place like this that we would unthinkingly store poisons or test weapons, land like the deserts to which we once banished our heretics and where we once loosed scapegoats with the burden of our transgressions.7 Happiness, however, had been given on the undistinguished tundra. The "land" had become a metaphor, a mnemonic, partly 370 Review for Religious learned and partly obscure, which held attractive promise. This was not distant from the care of the land in the Old Testament sabbatical tradition; it was close, also, to the concern for people and society, for the excluded, which is integral to that tradition. The landscape of Victoria Island and the Decho had reminders, in the oil storage tanks needed for winter warmth, of a different economy, other concerns. The land-scape would also include the cityscape, the interre-latedness and demands of first-world economies. Desire and fear both go into the making of cities and are evoked by the complexity and coloration of their shapes, just as they affect and are evoked by our perception of the land. The city includes and excludes, vivifies and oppresses--and needs as much care in its contemplation as does the tundra in the arctic and the mountains of the Yukon, as much set-ting of ourselves not to turn away. In the city, in our quotidian economies, the invitation is the same: to look steadily, to sit with ignorance, to trust the friendliness, to find, in this also impossible terrain, the outlines of the kingdom as drawn in the few "remembered" words of Jesus. Back in England, in Birmingham, there are vivid memories of smokehouses and camps, mountains and snow, the tundra and the frozen sea, mosquitoes and black flies, the particular people and their traditions. The coffee-lubricated conversations continue to echo. The tundra, I think, was easier to look at than Birmingham. But the tundra invites a fuller regard for my own place, these islands off the coast of Europe, and speaks of new possibilities. The landscape of the Yukon speaks of hoping for what is more and larger than is admitted in other, more usual, locations. Solidarities beckon in a welcoming fashion. A sabbatical is a way of returning to one's own place. The difficulty of all this is clear: "The differ-ing landscapes of the earth are hard to know individually. They are as difficult to engage in conversation as wild animals.''8 Nonetheless, to think of a world without wilderness is to be full of disquiet. For wilderness--living "in the land"--was integral to Milford and Cambridge, and is part and parcel of where I am now and where we all are. Explorers explore also themselves and their own cultures. May-June 1992" 371 Notes ~ In what follows on parables, I am indebted to James Crampsey, "Look at the Birds of the Air ." The Way, 31, no. 4 (October 1991): 286-294. 2 John Macmurray, Persons in Relation (Adantic Highlands, New Jersey; first published by Faber and Faber, London, 1961), p. 171. 3 Thomas Lobsinger OMI, Bishop of Whitehorse, and Denis Croteau OMI, Bishop of Mackenzie-Fort Smith--to whom I am very grateful. The Yukon and Northwest Territories are ordinarily a Jesuit-free zone. 4 A time of happiness, if not frequent, is at least commented on often enough for it to be by no means unique in this kind of terrain. See, for example, P. G. Downes, Seeping Island (Saskatoon: Prairie Books, 1988). The happiness contrasts with, but is not provoked by, the harshness of the country. Imprisoned by "a relentless wind of eight days fury," Downes is told by his partner "You do not 'hope' in this country; you do not hope, you just do the best you can" (p. 63). An explanation is given in a foot-note: "What he means is that 'hoping' is a passive state, and that you must be physically and mentally active in this type of situation." This seems also about right when hoping in God. s Marie Zawowny, "You Can Help Us to Become Strong Inside: Discerning the Direction of the Church with the Dene and the Inuit," Insight: A Resource for Adult Religious Education, no. 4, 1991, National Office of Religious Education, Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops. 6 "Copper Eskimo" was the phrase I heard. Local people do not always use the the more favored general name, Inuit--"the people." A fine account of life with the Inuit of the area is given in Raymond de Coccola and Paul King, The Incredible Eskimo: Life among the Barren Land Eskimo (Hancock House, 1989). The work was first published by Oxford University Press, New York, in the early 1950s under the title Ayorama; the new edition is fuller and uncensored. 7 Barry Lopez, Arctic Dreams: Imagination and Desire in a Northern Landscape (Picador, 1987), p. 255. See also the chapter "Landscape and Narrative" in his Crossing Open Ground (New York: Vintage Books, 1989). 8 The continuation of the quotation noted in n. 7 above. 372 Review for Religious PHILIP L. BOROUGHS Using Ignatian Discernment work, ministry, or living arrangements. Diminishing energy, feel-ings of boredom or of being taken for granted, or an emerging desire for new challenges can signal a need to reappraise one's situation. Obviously, these times of transition are unsettling, and they can be stressful as one begins to let go of the security of the familiar and searches for new clarity and direction. However, these periods also can generate new possibilities and a renewed sense of responsibility for one's life. At times such as these, the Serenity Prayer of Alcoholics Anonymous seems particularly appropriate: "O God, grant me the courage to change the things that I can change, the serenity to accept the things that I cannot change, and the wisdom to know the difference." Sometimes circumstances warrant a fun-damental change in one's life, while at other times a change of attitude or behavior seems mor4 appropriate. As one critically reviews his or her situation and assesses available options, one wisely might wonder whether there are any norms or principles to help one choose among the options. In the Spiritual Exercises St. Ignatius of Loyola offers a num-ber of principles for discernment which can be extremely useful for those entering into a time of transition. One of the major goals of the Exercises is to assist those who Philip L. Boroughs SJ may be addressed at 621 17th Avenue East; Seattle, Washington 98122. May-June 1992 373 Boroughs ¯ Using Ignatian Discernment undertake them to make the right life choices. The principles of discernment reflect Ignatius's own experience of prayerful decision making, and a brief review of the major transitions in his life will offer a context for his insights. Ignatius's Life On 20 May 1521 Ignatius was wounded in the battle of Pamplona, and in the long recuperation period which followed, a fundamental reorientation of his life began. Over the next sev-eral months, as he contemplated his future, Ignatius became aware of different interior movements affecting him. Gradually he rec-ognized the patterns of these interior movements, noting that certain spirits or desires produced peace and hope while others, which initially delighted him, eventually left him sad and depressed. As a result of these fluctuations, Ignatius decided to fol-low the spirit or direction which ultimately consoled him, and thus his religious quest began in earnest. Abandoning his life as a soldier and courtier, he moved to Manresa and formally commenced a spiritual journey which grad-ually helped him to identify and understand his limits and dis-oriented attachments as well as his deepest dreams and desires. After months of intense prayer and penance, mystical experiences, and interior growth, he embarked on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. There he hoped to spend his life visiting the holy places and help-ing souls. However, after he had been in Jerusalem only nineteen days, the Roman Catholic authorities ordered him to leave. The political climate was tense, and they did not want to assume lia-bility for this questionable religious enthusiast. Accepting their legitimate authority over him, Ignatius con-cluded that it must not be God's will that he remain in Jerusalem. He decided that he needed further education if he were to serve God's people in some other capacity. He returned to Spain and began studying grammar at the University of Barcelona. Two years later he advanced to study the humanities at Alcalfi. After many months, however, his austere lifestyle and his growing rep-utation as a lay spiritual director caused such controversy that he was investigated by the Inquisition. Mthough exonerated of any wrongdoing, he was forbidden to continue his spiritual ministry. Consequently he moved to the University of Salamanca. There the same pattern was repeated, and once again he had to revise his 374 Review for Religious plans. Ignatius then transferred to the University of Paris, where he spent the next seven years earning his bachelor's and master's degrees. These were intense years of study and spiritual ministry, and they were also years when he gathered some lifelong com-panions who shared his ideals and his commitment to service. As his formal education drew to a close, Ignatius became seri-ously ill and was advised by his doctors to return to his native country to recuperate. He journeyed home with the understand-ing that he and his companions would reassemble in Venice once he had recovered. From there they hoped to gain passage for Jerusalem, where they would spend the rest of their lives in min-istry. Ignatius and his friends vowed to wait one year in Venice for passage to Jerusalem; but if they could not arrange their trip dur-ing that time because of political turmoil, they would travel to Rome and place themselves at the service of the pope. Since no ships left Venice for Jerusalem that year, they proceeded on to Rome in keeping with their vow. As their reputation for holiness and ministerial effectiveness spread, requests for their services began to arrive from various corners of the world, forcing this rather loose-knit group of friends to consider the nature of their commitment to each other. After weeks of prayerful deliberation, they decided to form a reli-gious community and elected Ignatius to be their religious supe-rior. Although he initially declined the position, subsequent prayer and consultation with his spiritual director moved him to accept. He spent the last fifteen years of his life as the superior general of the nascent Society of Jesus. During this time of rapid growth and development, Ignatius not only provided this new community with inspired leadership, but he also prayerfully drafted its con-stitutions. With the exception of his seven years at Paris and his final years in Rome, Ignatius moved fre.quently throughout his adult life. His constant effort was to discern and follow God's will within the social and historical realities of his time. A!though he was the recipient of many mystical graces, few of them provided him with specific instructions about the decisions he faced. Rather, these mystical experiences confirmed the general direction of his life and God's ongoing companionship with him. Decisions about particular choices he faced required prayer and discernment to discover God's will. Ignatius's early lessons in the discernment of spirits, his respect for human learning and reflectivity, and his May-~Tune 1992 375 Boroughs ¯ Using Ignatian Discernment courage to act once he felt he knew what God wanted of him facilitated his prayerful decision making during the numerous transitions of his life. Predispositions for Discernment Ignatius's religious experience and his Spiritual Exercises sug-gest that, if an individual wishes to enter into a process of dis-cernment in order to discover God's will, certain predispositions are necessary: interior freedom, sufficient knowledge of self and the world, imagination, patience, and the. courage to act respon-sibly. Without these graces, true discernment is not possible. Interior Freedom: The first paragraph of the Spiritual Exercises clearly asserts that interior freedom is a sine qua non for finding God's will: "We call Spiritual Exercises every way of preparing and disposing the soul to rid itself of all inordinate attachments and, after their removal, of seeking and finding the will of God in the disposition of our life for the salvation of our soul" (SpEx 1). When Ignatius speaks of ridding oneself of inordinate attach-ments, he can be very explicit. In the Meditation on the TWO Standards, he identifies inordinate attachments primarily as temp-tations to riches, honor, and pride (SpEx 142). Today we might describe them as an attachment to possessions or a specific lifestyle, a desire for recognition or a preoccupation with the opinion of others, and an insistence on being in control of one's life or radical self-sufficiency. Ignatius believed that attachments " ~uch as these would so condition one's life that one's relationship with God would be seriously compromised and one's freedom to find God's will would be lost. During times of transition in a person's life, other variations of inordinate attachments also can surface. For example, at the first sign of serious difficulty, some people immediately search for new living or work possibilities, fearful of the asceticism required for long-term commitments. Others, feeling misunder-stood and unvalued, find it easier to cling to chronic anger and bit-terness than to identify and address the source of these feelings and move to a more integrated life. Still others become so com-pletely preoccupied with their own personal growth that they ignore the legitimate needs of those whose lives are intercon-nected with theirs. Whatever form an inordinate attachment takes, 376 Review for Religious it can effectively inhibit the possibility of true discernment because it centers one's life in oneself rather than in God. Knowledge: True spiritual freedom or detachment depends on self-knowledge. More than just an understanding of one's limits or even one's patterns of temptation, self-knowledge requires a pro-found awareness of one's gifts and one's deepest desires. However, during times of transition, individuals frequently say that they do not really know what they want. This is often part of the initial unrest which introduces a need for change. But it also can be an invitation for individuals to reclaim their deepest desires, those essential values which give ultimate meaning to their lives, their relationships, and their involvement with the world. For example, when one becomes overwhelmed juggling the increasing demands of family and career, or exhausted by the mounting expectations of one's ministerial position, or seriously disillusioned by institutional intransigence, identifying again or reformulating one's deepest desires provides a starting point for making new choices. Articulating one's deepest desires helps one to prioritize commitments and can provide some perspective for letting go of tfiose concerns which jeopardize whfit is more impor-tant. Sometimes people come to realize that .they have to r~con-sider tfieir original life commitment because of s.ubsequent choices they have made over the years. Others may discern that their deepest desires have not changed, but their they have to find a new oi" healthier way of living them out. S~ill others may experi-ence a call to liv~ out their original commitment even more rad-ically. Reapp~:opriating one's deepest desires is a critical dimension of self-knowiedge. However, for Ignatius self-knowledge was not enough. He spent many years studying in some of the most respected univer-sities of his day and achieved an advanced degree in theology because he believed that education was a critical component for ministry. He even rediaced his intense spiritual activities during his university years because he discerned that his ex[ended prayer was interfering with his con~mitment to study. Ignatius emphasized education as a significant component in the formation of young Jesuits and as an important ministry of the Society of Jesus because through it he promoted the ongoing transformation of individu-als, church, and society. Consequently, not only knowing oneself, but also knowing the complexities of any given situation, pos- May-June 1992 377 Boroughs ¯ Using Iffnatian Discernment sessing a critical understanding of systems and structures, and having sufficient education for one's current ministry or some new possibility are critical dimensions of a discernment process. Imagination: Knowledge in concert with imagination can produce new possibilities. Ignatius clearly manifested an imaginative approach to ministry through the creation of the Society of Jesus and its novel structures and methods. He also used the power of imagination in his approach to prayer. Through an imagina