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Issue 16.4 of the Review for Religious, 1957. ; A. M. D. G. Review for Reh ious JULY 15, 1957 St. ~John of the Cross . Sister'Mary St. Rose R~vitalizing Our Spiritual Life . Harold F. Cohe. Departure After Temporary Profession . . .Joseph F. Gallen AIIocution Concerning Tertianship . pope plus- Book Reviews Questions and Answers Roman Documents VOLUME 16 NUMBER 4 RI::VII::W FOR R LIGIOUS VOLUM/~ 16 JULY, 1957 NUMBER 4 CONT£NTS ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS: DOCTOR OF DIVINE LOVE-- Sister Mary St. Rose, S.N.D . 193 REVITALIZING OUR SPIRITUAL LIFE-- Harold F. Cohen, S.J . 211 DEPARTURE FROM RELIGION ON THE EXPIRATION OF A TEMPORARY PROFESSION--Joseph F. Gallen, S.J . 215 FONTI FIFE . 223 SURVEY OF ROMAN DOCUMENTS~R. F. Smith, S.J . 224 ALLOCUTION CONCERNING TERTIANSHIP-- Pope Pius XII . 236 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 240 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS-- Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana . 241 REVIEW OF CATHOLIC CHURCH MUSIC . 249 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS: 19. Bows at Benediction . 250 20. Recourse Against Exclusion from Profession . 250 21. Seasonal Prefaces . 251 22. Ordinary Confessor and Cases Reserved in the Institute . 251 23. Occasional Confessor and Jurisdiction for One Other Woman. 252 24. Occasional Confessor Only for Professed and Novices . 252 25. Transfer to Another Monastery . 253 26. Using School Section of Minor Cloister for Community During Vacations . 254 27. Restoration of Solemn Vows in Monasteiies of Nuns . 255 28. Mass To Be Said on a Ferial Day . 256 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, July, 1957. Vol. 16, No. 4. Published bimonthly by The Queen's Work, 3115 South Grand Blvd., St. Louis 18, Mo. Edited by the Jesuit Fathers of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approval. Second class mail privilege authorized at St. Louis, Mo. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J.; Gerald Kelly, S.J.; Henry Willmering, S.J. Literary Editor: Robert F. Weiss, S.J. Copyright, 1957, by The Queen's Work. Subscription price in U.S.A. and Canada: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U.S.A. Please send all renewals and new subscriptions to: Review for Religious, 3115 South Grand Boulevard, St. Louis 18, Missouri. St. dbhn ot: the Cross Doctor ot: Divine Love Sister Mary St. Rose, S.N.D. THE name of St. John of the Cross sometimes elicits a strange reaction: a gentle, modest man.who sincerely pre-ferred oblivion-to power, solitude to lecture hall, and peace to self-justification or defense of the major work of his life, he seems to cause a kind of recoil; perhaps an awe-inspiring viril-ity beneath the disarming serenity, is sensed even after the lapse of almost four hundred years; perhaps to too many he is the Doctor of the Nothing rather than the Doctor of Divine Love. Born Juan de Yepes in the little village of Fontiveros, just thirty miles north of Avila, in 1542, of relatively poor artisans, he was moved at seven years of age, after the death of'his father, to Medina del Campo, where his mother had better pros- . pects of supporting her small family. John early showed such aptitude for study rather than for crafts that he became the prot~g~ of Don Antonio Alvarez de Toledo and, while work-ing in the hospital of his patron, studied till he was nineteen at the Jesuit college in Medina. At twenty, he entered the Order of Carmel, was professed a year later, and studied arts and theology for three yea~s in Salamanca, where one of the four leading universities of the time was located. Ordained in 1567, he met St.'_Teresa_in the same year and was persuaded to abandon his desire to become a Carthusian in favor of help-ing initiate a restoration of the primitive Carmelite rule. Together with the rather impractical but fervent Fra~ Antonio and his five clocks, he planted in a miserable hut in Duruelo the seedling which eventually developed into the Dis-calced Carmelites. Eight happy years of peaceful spiritual and intellectual maturing were followed by a year as professor in the Discalced College of the University of Alcala and by five years in Avila, where as confessor of the hundred nuns of the 193 SISTER MARY ST. ROSE Review for Religious Incarnation, to which St. Teresa had been forced to return as prioress, he wrought a miracle of reformation. But the peaceful years were over; the. Mitigated Carmelites, increasingly embittered by the success of the reform, forcibly seized John on December 3, 1577, and, when their efforts to induce him to abandon the reform were fruitless, flogged and imprisoned him, first at Avila and later--after a confirma-tion of the sentence by the General, Tostado--at Toledo. In a six by ten, windowless cell, during eight and a half months of .bread, water, and fish, with almost daily floggings and no change of clothing, he etched in his own soul the masterpiece of cooperation with God's grace of which we get echoes in his-poems, begun even during his imprisonment, finished and de-veloped later into those unique commentaries which have earned for him the supreme doctorate of the Church itself in the science of mystical theology. Escaping from his prison on August 15, i578, he went south into Andalusia, stopped at Beas, where the lovable Anne of Jesus was prioress, and where he began for 'the devoted nuns his oral commentary on .the "Spiritual Canticle." At Monte Calvario, where he spent eight months recuperating, he began the .4scent o[ Mount Carmel and the Dark Night, finish-ing them, as well as the S/~ir.itual Canticle and the Living Flame o[ Love, during six years as prior in Granada. This was a relatively quiet interlude before the final storm. By a Bull of Gregory XIII in 1580, the Discalced had been separated from the Calced, and the ambitious Doria had been made general of the former. John was' his vicar-general till the chapter of 1591, in which he opposed the revocation of the'Teresian constitutions and other drastic alterations. Sent after the chapter to La Pefiuela as a simple friar and a virtual exile, he experienced the cruel trial of defamation to such an extent that his friends feared that he, even as his old associate. Gracian, would be expelled in disgrace from the order. But the purification was to be of another kind. He fell ill of fever 194 July, 1957 ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS and erysipelas and was sent for medical attention to Ubeda, where the prior had an old score~a pievious reprimand--to settle with him; fobd, medicin.e, visitors, all were denied John or given grudgingly till the intervention of the provincial brought relief--but too late. At midnight on December 14, 1591, John diedl true to his name and like ihe God-man he had so loved~ unknown, suffering, disgraced, abandoned. Guide to the Highest Sanctity To those of us who, inspired at first perhaps by curiosity. about this reputed mystic of mystics, persist in cultivating his friendship, he reveals himself as one of the most human and tender of saints, a corisummate psychologist, a master theo-logian, an uncompromisi.ng guide to the highest sanctity. To prove this assertion from his works would be a relatively easy but decidedly lengthy task. My aim is more modest but still sufficiently ambitious, perhaps even presumptuous: to show from his most logically constructed work, the Ascent of Mount Carmel and its sequel, even its integral part, the D'ark Night, how he responds to the age-old longing of a soul in love with God for a sure road and a swift road to the embrace of the Divine Lover. But first to consult a recent Baedeker for a panoramic view: The end of man is the vision of God-~or, perhaps more ac-curately, to glorify God and enjoy Him forever.~ . . . It is easier to intoxicate people's minds with a desire for contemplation than it is to persuade them of what is required before that gift can be received. ¯ . . Briefly it may be said that the gift of contemplation will always be given to. those who make themselves poor enough in spirit and pure enough in hear~ to receive it. Let me hasten to add, in line with the masteri of the spiritual life, that this poverty of spirit and purity of heart call for detachment but not violent asceticism . But if physical austerities are relativel~ of little importance, what is of fundamental importance is the mortification of self; that is to say, the eli~nination of self-will, self-interest, self-centered think-ing, wishing, and imagining. May I suggest that contemplation-- often conceived of in too intellectualist terms--is nothing else but the realization of God's presence and of our utter dependence on Him. The contemplative is simply one. who sees the divine-human situation as it is. Hence the contemplative state is essentially pas- 195 SISTER MARY ST. ROSE Review for Religious sive; that is, an alert passivity by which we are, in varying degrees of clarity, aware of God--both as transcendent above His creation and immanent within it . The impediments are whatever concentrates our thoughts on the ego--vices, obviously; but also self-centered virtues. Self-for-getting love is of course the key--that agape of the New Testament. This does not mean an anxious striving after God, but letting Him work His wil! in us; imitating God's love for us by a correspondent compassion toward our neighbor, loving the unlovable . When a man can from his heart realize that the only thing that makes sense is that he shall submit to God's invasion of his own little world, on the principle that if God's kingdom is to come then 'my kingdom must go, he will then be as near to the state of contemplation as makes no difference.~ The Nature of Infused Contemplation Now this is the theory, succinctly put by a modern theo-logian. Before we clothe this skeletal outline with living flesh, it may be advisable to take sides in the controversy about the precise nature of infused contemplation, for itis fatally easy to read one's own views into St. John's words. Without at-tempting to justify my choice, I turn. from the position main-tained by Father Reginald Garrigou-LaGrange, O.P., to that of Father Elmer O'Brien, S.J., and Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen, O.C.D. The former puts the matter neatly: I can find no positive reason for asserting that God's sanctify-ing presence must, in the laws of grace, eventually rise above the threshold of spiritual consciousness (except, of course, if one holds for a materialistic concept of grace), and on the other hand the burden of witness in the Christian tradition is against it.'-' The latter, in a passage worth quoting at length for its clarity and charity, has this to say: We have seen how, from the teaching of St. John of the Cross, it follows that the activity of the contemplative gifts of the Holy Ghost may be either hidden or experimental. Both forms are proper actuations of these gifts, which proceed from one and the same principle but are distinct as regards the effect they produce in the subject which receives them. Sometimes they are perceived, some- 1 Graham, Aelred, O.S.B, and others, "Infused Contemplation as the Nor-mal Development of the Life of Grace and the Virtues," Proceedings of the Ninth ~l'nnual Convention (Catholic Theological Society of America, 1954). 203-205. ¯ 2 Ibid., 221. 196 July, 1957 ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS times not, but the soul is always really a~ted upon b~, the gifts and hence there is real infusion. The speculative theologian, who is not directly considering the different form~ which this divine action may take in different souls and at different periods of the spiritual life, will easily give the name of infused contemplation to every form of contemplation in which the action of the gifts intervenes. The Teresian mystical teaching, on the other hand, which distinguishes two modes of divine action, will give the name of acquired to the contemplation resulting from the hidden action which assists the soul's activity, and reserve the name infused for the contemplation in which God makes Himself pei'ceived. Hence the term infused contemplation takes on a different meaning in.the different schools of spirituality.~ With this background and with the prospect of an ex-perienced, intrepid, compassionate guide, we are ready to put on our seven-league boots and take the hand of St. John. He charmingly suggests this procedure in his St~iritua/ Canticle." "And, to the end that this thirsty soul may come to find her Spouse and be united with Him through union of love in this life, so far as she may, and allay her thirst with this drop that can be tasted of Him in this life, it will be well, since the soul asks this of her Spouse, that we should take her hand on His behalf and answer her by showing her the surest place where He is hidden, so that she may surely find Him there with the perfection and pleasure that is possible in this life, and thus may not begin to roam about vainly in the tracks of her companions.''~ With little more than a thread of comments as road signs, I shall let St. John speak for himself. And first, his motive, purpose, and outline of the journey as given in ./lscent o/: Mount Carmel." "It is sad to see many souls to whom God gives both favor and capacity for making progress, remaining in an elementary a Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen, O.C.D., St. John o/ the Cross (Newman Book-shop, Maryland, 1946). 95. 4 Peers, E. Allison, tVorks of St. John of the Cross (Burns, Oates and Wash-bourne Ltd., 1934). All the quotations throughout the remainder of the article are taken from this two volume work. Because of the extent of the quoted mat-ter, quotation marks rather than reduced type will be used from this point to the end. 197 SISTER MARY ST, ROSZ Review for Religious stage of communion with God, .for want of will, or knowledge, or becatise there is none who will lead them in the right path or teach them how to get away from these beginnings. ",Wherefore, to the end that all, whether beginners or proficients, may know how to commit themselves to God's guid-ance, when His Majesty desires to lead them onward, we shall give instruction and counsel, by His help, so that they may be able to understand His will, or, at the least, allow Him to lead them . "For a soul to attain to the state of perfection, it has ordinarily first to _pass through two principal kinds of night, which spiritual persons call purgations or purifications of the soul; and here we call them nights, for in both of them the soul journeys, as it were, by .night, in darkness. "The first '~ight or purgation is of the sensual part of the soul, which . . . will be treated in the first part of this book. And the second is of the spiritual part; of this . . . we shall treat likewise, in the second and the third part, with respect to the activity of the soul; and in the fourth part, with respect to its passivity. "And this first night pertains to beginners, occurring at the time when God begins to bring them into the state of con-templation; in this night the spirit likewise has a part, as we shall say in due course. And the second night or purification pertains to those Who are already proficient, occurring at the time w'-h~n God desires to set them in the state of union with God. And this latter night is a more obscure and dark ~and terrible purgation, as we shall say afterwards." Night of the Senses Good pedagogue that he is, St. John believes not in goad.s but in stimulants for the arduous uphill climb; speaking of the yearnings of love which' are the effects of generosity, he con-tinues: 198 Ju~, 1957 ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS ~ "In order to conquer all the desires and to deny itself the pleasures which it has in everything, and for v)hich its love and affection are wont to enkindle the will that it may enjoy them, it would be necessary to experience another and a greater enkindling by another and a better love, which is that of its Spouse; to the end that, having its pleasure set upon Him and deriving from Him ~ts strength, it should have courage and constancy to deny itself all other things with ease." In earnest he begins the stripping of all impediments from the sensitive appetites: "He that loves a creature becomes as low as is that ~reature, and, in some ways, lower; for love not only makes the lover equal to the object of his love, but even subjects him to it. Wherefore in the same way it comes to pass that the soul that loves anything else becomes incapable of pure union with God and transformation in him. All the being of Creation, then, compared with the infinite ~Being of God, is nothing. And therefore the soul that sets its affections upon the being of creation is likewise nothing in the eyes of God, and 'less than nothing; for, as we have said, love makes equality and similitude, and even sets the lover below .the object of his love . The soul that. is ravished by the graces and beauties of the creatures has only supreme misery and unattractiveness in the eyes of God. Any soul that makes" account of all its knowledge and ability in order to come to union with the wisdom of God is supremely ignorant in the eyes of God and will remain far removed from that wisdom. [In summary,] as long as the soul rejects not all things, it has no capacity to receive the spirit of God in pure transformation . . . [for the philo-sophical reason that] as in natural generation no. form can be introduced unless the preceding, contrary form is first expelled from the subject, which form, while present, is an impediment to the other by reason of the contrariety which the two have between each other; even so, for as long as the soul is sub- 199 SISTER MARY ST." ROSE Review for Religious jected to the sensual spirit, the spirit which is pure and spiritual cannot enter it." But to prevent the appalling error of Stoicism, he care-fully distinguishes involuntary movements of the appetites from voluntary: "It is true that all the desires are not equally hurtful, nor do they equally embarrass the soul . . . for the natural desires hinder the soul little, or not at' all, from attaining to union, when they are not consented to nor pass beyond the first move-ments-- that is, all those wherein the rational will has had no part, whether at first Or afterward--and to take away these-- that is, to mortify them wholly in this life--is impossible . "The other voluntary desires, whether they be of mortal sin, which are the gravest, or of venial sin, which are less grave, or whether they be only of imperfections, which are the least grave of all, must be driven away every one, and the soul must be fre~ t:rom them all, howsoever small they be, it~ it is to come to this complete union; and the reason is that the state of this. divine union consists in the soul's transformation, accord-ing to the will, in the will of God, so that there may be naught in the soul that is contrary to the will of God, but that, in all and through all, its movement may be that of the will of God alone . "Although a person .who suffers them (natural desires which are not voluntary, and . . . thoughts that go not beyond the first movements, and other temptations to which the soul is not consenting) may believe that the passion and disturbance which they then cause him are defiling and blinding him, it is not so; rather they are bringing him the opposite advantages. For, insofar as he resists them, he gains fortitude, purity, light, and consolation, and many blessings, even as our Lord said to St. Paul that virtue was made perfect in weakness." When our eagerness to start is hardly to be restrained, he gives us the road map at last. How strongly suggestive it is of 200 July, 1957 ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS the tantum quantum "of St. Ignatius; indeed, that simple but infinitely challenging Ignatian norm permeates all the detailed directions by which St. John implements the ltscent's 'famous Chapter Thirteen. "First, let him have an habitual desire to imitate ~hrist in everything that he does, conforming himself to His life; upon which life he must meditate so that he may know how to imitate it, and to behave in all things as Christ would behave. "Secondly, in order that he may' be able to do this well, every pleasure that presents itself to the senses, if it be not ¯ purely for the honor and glory of God, must be renounced and completely rejected for the love of Jesus Christ, who in this lifd had no other pleasure, neither desired such, than to do the will of His Father, which He called His meat and drink . "For the mortifying and calming of the four natural pas-sions, which are joy, hope, fear, and grief, from the concord and pacification of which come these blessings, and others like-wise, the counsels which follow are of'the gr~test help, and of great merit, and' the source of great virtues." .~ Night of the Spirit Then follow the famous counsels for which all the world remembers St. John and which he concludes with the singing words, a refrain to haunt one's soul: "When thou thinkest upon anything, Thou ceasest to cast thyself upon the All. For, in order to pass from the all to the All, Thou has to deny thyself wholly in all. And, when thou comest to possess it wholly, Thou must possess it without desiring anything. For, if thou wilt have anything in all, Thou hast not thy treasure purely in God." Turning now his attention to the spirit of man, St, John shows that the.intellect is purified by faith; the memory, by 201 Si~TER M.~Y ST. ROSE Review for Religious hope; the will, by ~harity. He begins with the definition, the necessity, and the danger of not living by faith; then, be-cause of .the special difficulties of this stage of the venture, he presents a clear view of the goal. "Faith, Say the theologians, is a habit of the soul,, certain and obscure. And the reason for its being an obscure habit is that it makes us believe truths revealed by God Himself, which transcend all natural light, and exceed all human under-standing, beyond all proportion . In the same way [as a partially blind man], a soul may lean upon any knowledge of its own, or any feeling or experience of God; yet, however great this may be, it is very little and far different from what God i.s; and, in going along this road, a soul is easily led astray or forced to halt, because it will not remain in faith like one that is blind, and faith is its true guide . And thus a soul is greatly impeded from reaching this high estate of union with God when it clings to any understanding or feeling or imagina-tion or appearance or will or manner of its own, or to any other act or to anything of its own, and cannot detach and strip itself of these . "Here I treat only of this permanent and total union ac-cording to the substance of the soul and its faculties with re-spect to the obscure habit of union: for with respect to the act, we shall explain later, with the divine favor, how there is no permanent i~nion in the faculties, in this'life, but a transitory union only . When fhe soul rids itself totally of that which is repugnant to the divine will "and conforms not with it, it is transformed in God through love. God cbnlmunicates Himself most'to that soul tliat has progressed farthest in love, namely, that has its will in closest conformity with the ~vill of God. And the soul that has attained~ complete conformity and likeness of will is totally uni~:ed and transf6rmed, in God super-naturally . But the. soul that attains not to such a measure of purity as is in conformity with its capacity never attains 202 July, 1957 ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS true peace and satisfaction, since it has not attained to the possession of that detachment ~and emptiness in its faculties which is required for simple union." Returning. to his concern for the cleansing of the under-standing by faith, he breaks into a cry of anguish over those who will never take seriously our Saviour's counsel to deny themselves utterly and, hence, will never reach the gbal in this life. I quote only the concluding words of a long passage: '~Herein they become spiritually enemies of the cross of Christ; for true spirituality' seeks for~ God's sake that which is distasteful rather than that which is delectable; and inclines itself rather to sufl:ering than to. consolation; and desires to go without all blessings for God'g sake rather th~n to enjoy sweet' communications', knowing that" this is to follow Christ and to deny oneself, and that the other is perchance to seek oneself in. God, which is clean contrary, to lox~e.'~' All kinds of knowledge other than faith are relatively use-~ less: "The farther the soul progresses. !n spirituality,, the .re. ore it ceases from the operation of the faculties in particular acts, for it becomes more and more occupiedin one act. that.is gen-eral and pure;.and thus the faculties that were journeying to a place whither the soul has arri;ced cease to Work, even as the feet stop and cease ~o move when their journey'is over . And, as such so~uls know not the mystery of this new experience, the idea comes to them that they are being idle and doing noth-ing; and thus they allow themselves not to be quiet, but endeavor to meditate and reason. Herice they are filled with aridity and affliction, because they seek ~to~ find sweetness where it is no longer to be found.' . St. John ~hen gi~es the signg by; which We may know whethe~r we have' reached this point in our progress, signs too frequently, reproduced for me to quote them here." Then, after examining one by on'd'the various natural' and supernatural kinds' of kriowl- 203" SISTER MARY ST. ROSE Review for Religious edge which the soul may receive and from which it should detach itself, he comes at last to the intuition of naked truth, aboutJwhich he becomes almost lyrical: "And these lofty manifestations of knowledge can only come to the soul that attains to union with God, for they are themselves that union; and to receive them is equivalent to a certain contact with the Divinity which the soul experiences, and thus it is God Himself who is perceived and tasted therein. And, although He cannot be experienced manifestly and clearly, as in glory, this touch of knowledge and delight is nevertheless so sublime and profound that it penetrates the substance of the soul . . . for such kinds of knowl.edge savor of the Divine Essence and of eternal life . And I say not that the soul should behave in the same negative manner with regard to these apprehensions as with regard to the rest, for . . . they are a part of the union, towards which we are directing the soul; to which end we are teaching it to detach and stril5 itself of all other apprehensions. And the means by which God will do this must be humility and suffering for love of God with resignation as regards all reward; for these favors are not granted to the soul which still cherishes attachments, inas-much as they are granted through a very special love of God toward the soul which loves Him likewise with great detachment." To the purification of the memory, St. John gives detailed attention, concludes with a powerful paragraph, and then focuses the major portion of Book III of the ~sc~'nt on the will. Purgation of Memory and Will "Hence, the more the soul dispossesses the memory of forms and things which may be recalled by it, which are not God,. the more will it set its memory upon God, and the emptier will its memory become, so that i~ may hope for Him who shall fill it. What must be done, the:,, that the soul may live in the perfect and pure hope of God is that, whensoever these distinct images, forms, and notions come to it, it must not re~t in them, but must turn immediately to God, voiding the memory of them entirely, with 2O4 July, 1957 ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS loving-affectioh. It must neither think of these things nor don-sider them beyond the degree which is necessary for the under-standing and performing of its obligations, if they have any con-cern with these. And this it must do without setting any affection or inclination upon them, so that they may produce no effects in the soul . "We should have accomplished nothing by the purgation of the understanding in order to ground it in the virtue of faith, and by the purgation of the memory in order to ground it in hope, if we purged not the will also according to the third virtue, which is charity, whereby the works that are done in faith live and have great merit, and without it are of no worth . The st~:ength of the soul consists in its faculties, passions, and desires, all of which are governed by the will. Now when these faculties, passions, and desires are directed by. the will toward God, and turned away from all .that is not God, then the strength of the soul is kept for God, and thus the soul is able to love God with all its stiength. And, to the end that the soul may do this, we shall here treat of the purgation from the will of all its unruly affections . These affections and passions are four, namely: joy, hope, grief, and fenr." Apparently St. John intended to give instructions concern-ing each of these passions in their impact on the will and every good to which the will of man is attracted. He did not complete the project; yet even the truncated treatise is a masterpiece of analysis of all the subterfuges by which we seek ourselves instead of God.__:_ The general truth W]~l~--which he prefaced his treatment will serve as a summary: "This truth is that the will must never rejoice save only in that which is to the honor and gloi:y of God; and that the greatest honor we can show to Him is that of serving Him according to evangelical perfection; and anything that has naught to do with this is of no value and profit to man." 205 SISTER MARY ST. ROSE Review for Religious The Dark Night St. John abruptly ended the Ascent, having completed only half of what he had promised, the t~o purgations "with respect to the activity of the soul," of the sensual part and of the spiritual part of the "soul. The two purgations "with respect to its passivity" he reserved for treatment in his Dark Night, a work considered his especially original .contribution to~ my~stical theol-ogy. In it he tharks clearly the point of departure, th~ neces-sity, thd general conspectus, and the signs that the soul is ready f6r this'last and most trying part of its ascent tO" perfect uniofi with God. "Into this dark night souls begin to enter when God draws them'forth from the state of beginners--w~hich is the state of those that meditate upon the spiritual roadmand begins to set them in the state of progressives--which is that of,those who are already contemplatives--to the end that, after passing through it, they may arrive at the state of the perfect, which is that of divine union of the soul with God . ¯ "However greatly the soul itself labors, it~ ~annot actively purify itself so as to be in the least degree prepared for the divine union of perfection of love, if God takes not its hand and purges it not in that dark fire, in the way and manner that we have to describe. "The night of senseis common and comes to many; these are the beginners; and of this night we shall first speak. The night of the spirit is the portion of very ~few, and thes~e are they that are already practise.d and profi.cient,~ of whom we shall treat hereafter . "For the making of this distinction ['between aridities from the night of the sensual desires and from sins and imperfec-tions] I find that there are three principal'signs. The first is whether, when 'a soul finds no pleasure or consolation in the things of God, ~it also fails to find it in any thing" created; for, as God sets the soul in this dark night to' the end that He may 206 July, 1957 ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS quench and ~purge its sensual desire, ~He allows it not to find attraction or sweetness in anything whatsoever. . . The sec-ond sign whereby a man may believehimself to be experiencing the said purgation is. that ordinarily the memory is centered upon God, with painful care and solicitude, thinking that it is not serving God, but is backsliding, because it finds itself without sweetness in the. things of God, . . The third sign . . is that the soul can no longer meditat~e or reflect in its sense of the imagination, as it was wont, however much it may endeavor to do so." St. John assures us that if we follow the procedure he suggests in the Dark Night we shall surely receive the prom-ised fruits, which to any one who has not experienced them sound" like cold comfort. "What they must do is merely to leave'the soul free and disencumbered and at rest from all knowledge and thought, troubling not themselves, in that state, about what they shall think or meditate, but Contenting themselves with no more than a peaceful and loving a~tentiveness toward God, and in being without anxiety', without the ability and without desire to .have experience of Him or to perceive Him . "This is the first and principal benefit caused by this arid and dark night of contemplation: the knowledge of oneself and of one's misery . And the smallness of this self-satis-faction, together with the soul's affliction at not serving God, is considered and esteemed by God as greater than all the con-solations which the soul formerly experienced and the works which it wrought, however great they were, inasmuch as they were the occasion of many imperfections and ignorances." For fear we should consider ourselves aimost at our jour-ney's end, St. John disillusions us gently but firmly, tells the nature of the dark night of the spirit through ~ which we must grope, its effects, and its distinctive characteristic, and at last reveals to us th~ consummation of our~ quest. 2O7 SISTER MARY ST. ROSE Review for Religious "These proficients have two kinds of imperfection: the one kind is habitual; the other actual. The habitual imperfec-tions are the imperfect habits and affections which tfave re-mained all the time in the spirit, and are like roots, to which the purgation of sense has been unable to penetrate. The dif-ference between the purgation of these and that of this other kind is the difference between the root and the branch, or be-tween the removing of a stain which is fresh and one which is old and of long standing. For, as we said, the purgation of sense is only the entrance and beginning of contemplation leading to the purgation of the spirit, which, as we have like-wise said, serves rather to accommodate sense to spirit than to unite spirit with God. But there still remain in the spirit the stains of the old man, although the. spirit thinks not that this is so, neither can it perceive them; if these stains be iaot re-moved with the soap and strong lye of the purgation of this night, the spirit will be unable to come to the purity of divine union . "This dark night is an inflowing of God into the soul, which purges it from its ignorances and imperfections, habitual, natural, and spiritual, and which is called by contemplatives in-fused contemplation, or mystical theology. Herein God secretly teaches the soul and instructs it in perfection of love, Without its doing anything, or understanding of what manner .is this infused contemplation . "And when the "soul is indeed assailed by this divine light, its pain, which results from its impurity, is immense; because, when this pur~ light assails' the soul, in order to expel its im-purity, the soul feels itself to be so impure and miserable that it believes God to be against it, and thinks that it has set itself up against God . The second Way in which the soul suffers pain is by reason of its weakness . . . for sense and spirit,-as if beneath some immense and dark load, are in such great .pain and agony th. at the soul would find advantage and relief in 208 July, 1957 ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS death . The third kind of suffering .~. results from the fact that two other extremes meet here in one, namely, the Divine and the human . As a ~result of this, the soul feels itself to be perishing and melting away, in the presence and sight of its miseries, by a cruel spiritual death . The fourth kind of pain is caused in the soul by another excellence of this dark contemplation, which .is its majesty and greatness, from which arises in the soul a consciousness of the other extreme which is in itself, namely, that of the deepest poverty and wretchedness: this is one of the "chiefest pains that it suffers in this purgation . "For spiritual things in the soul have this characteristic, when they are most purely spirit.ual, that, when they are trials, the soul believes that it will never escape from them, ~and that all ~its blessings are ndw over, as has been seen in the passages quoted; and when they are spiritual blessings, the soul believes in the same way that its troubles are now ove.r, and that bless-ings will never fail it . "In the midst of these dark afflictions, the soul feels itself to be keenly and acutdy wounded in strong divine love, and to havea certain realization and foretaste of God . It some-times comes to pass that this mystical and loving theology, as well as enkindling the will, strikes and illumines the other faculty also--that of the understanding--with a certain divine light and k-fiowledge, so delectably and delicately that it aids the will to conceive a marvelous fervor, and, without any action of its own, there burns in it this divine fire of love, in living flames, so that it now appears to the soul a living fire by reason of the living understanding which is given to it . Thus the pres-ence of God is felt, now after one manner, now after another. ¯ . . That dark love cleaves to the soul, causing it a most watch-ful care and an inward solicitude concerning that which it must do, or must not do, for His sake, in order to please Him. It will consider and ask itself a thousand times if it has given Him 209 SISTER MARY ST. ROSE cause to be offended; and all this it will do with much greater care and solicitude than before . For here all the desires and energies and faculties of the soul are recollected from all things else, and its effort and strength are employed in pleasing God alone . After this manner, b'y this mystical theology and secret love, the soul continues to rise above all things .and above itself, and to mount upward to God. For love is like fire, which ever rises upward with the desire to be absorbed in the center of its sphere." But prose is a poor vehicle now. Even St. John stops trying to finish the Dark Niyht. To the Spiritual Canticle or the Living Flame of Love we must turn for the epitha-lamium of God. and the soul: "My love is as the hills, The lonely valleys clad with forest trees, The rushing, sounding rills, Strange isles in distant seas, Lover-like whisperings, murmurs of the breeze. "My love is hush-of-night, Is dawn's first breathings in the heaven above, Still music veiled from sight, Calm that can echoes move, The feast that brings new strdngthmthe feast of love." and "O living flame of love That, burning, dost assail My inmost soul with tenderness untold, Since thou dost freely move Deign to consume the veil Which sunders this sweet converse that we hold." Revit:alizing Our Spiri!:ual Lit:e I-larold I::. Cohen, S.J. WE MUST be struck, at least occasionally, by the difference between ourselves and what our religious institutes would have us be, and by the difference between ourselves and those of our brothers in Christ whom the Church holds up as models of sanctity, and finally, by the difference in the fruit produced by our saints and that produced by ourselves. Per-haps in our more serious moments we ask ourselves the reason for this. We may answer that God gives more grace to some than to others and let it go at that. But then we are not being honest with ourselves, for whatever the measure of God's grace, our own correspondence to that grace can give us serious concern. The answer is not difficult to state--it is difficult to admit. The reason we lack sanctity and fruitfulness in the apostolate is that we are not united with God. We are not the men of prayer, recollection, and study,that God wants us to be. We try to ser~,e two masters, God and the world. We turn, as if mag-netized, to the distraction of-TV, radio, sports, movies, and magazines--and we have to admit that these things withdraw us from silence and recollection in God. We all know, of course, that these things are not only not sinful, but a moderate use of them is helpful to us. But in seeking a solution to our own-lack of high spirituality and consequent weak apostolate, we certainly should give serious consideration to just how moderately we use them. For if we find that instead of being men of faith who have cut ourselves away from creatures by poverty and. self-denial, exuding the fragrance of Christ to all we come in contact with, we are men given over to our own ease and comfort, with more interest in picture magazines than hungry, poorly housed human beings; that we who profess as our purpos~ in life the salvation of souls are more interested in watching a 211 HAROLD F. COHEN Review for Religious game on TV than hearing confessions, more interested in cock-tail parties than visiting the sick~if we find these thi,ngs, we must admit that we lack .moderation in our use of legitimate diversions, and that now, no longer, a means, they have become an end in themselves. Once we realize that we are not united with Goc~, and that at least one of the causes is our effusio ad exteriora, we might again ask ourselves, "Why?" Have we lost the secret of sanc-tity of the saints? Or are we living in an age that necessar!ly precludes doing great things for Christ? Certainly we started off seeking union with God in the beginning of our religious life--the trouble is that having learned our lessons in the noviti-ate, we have let our vivid ideals grow dull with the passage of time. A new set of ideals has replaced them subconsciously, the ideal of the "good" priest or religious: faithful (more or less) to spiritual exercises, at least in the beginriing of his change-over, he none the less .frequently enjoys himself at the entertainments of externs; and he over-emphasizes the "breaks" affor_ded by his institute, freely partaking of '~the good things of this world," push-ing far to the back of his mind the crucified Christ. " Of course he loves Christ; he can even tolerate the idea of a crucified Master, but His cross is fast becoming to him, as to the world of which he is a part, something hard to understand. Nights are not a time of prayer, study, and apostolic labo~, but for "neces~'ary" relaxation. The hungry souls waiting for the bread he alone can give them are still waiting. _ How can we get back to our novitiate ideals of prayer, self-sacrifice, and' hard work for God? How can we get back to them in a practical way? Here a litany of meang opens before us. I will suggest only one, but one that'is the means of re-vitalizing our spiritual life. It is a return to serious prayer. "He who abides in Me and I in him, he it is that b:ears much fruit. For without Me you can do nothing" (John 15:4). If we daily share the intimacy of our divine Friend, His pres-ence can't help but have its effect on us. But if we are to 212 July, 1957 REVITALIZING OUR SPIRITUAL LIFE share this,intimacy, our prayer must be serious¯ We often-- or perhaps less--put in our daily time of prayer; yet few would dare call themselves men of prayer. We are not making con-tact. The vitalizing grace of the Vine is not flowing into the ¯ branches, and consequently we bear little fruit. The juncture, the point of union, is closed up. To establish the contact with Christ. our thirsting souls need, we have to make prayer our primary interest. Once we truly are making a serious effort in prayer, God will show us what changes have to be made in our lives, and He will give us the grace to make them. When we respond to these graces, our prayer takes on its deepest meaning: "Thy will be done," His will for our own shedding of self to put on the generosity of Christ, to put afide comforts to dedicate ourselves to the salvation of the souls He died for. Once. we are in this state of self-dedication, God usually eases with His consolations the difficulties of prayer. For after all, as Father Boylan s6 well points out in his Difficulties in Mental Prayer, our main difficulty in prayer is that we are afraid to come face to face with God because we are not doing His will in some way or another. For our prayer to reach this full flowering, we have to do the spade work of daily effort. And here is the crisis, for our wills are weak. It is.a decision we must all make--to give up the pleasures of long nights to get up in the morning and down on our knees--or to live in a lethargy that can look only with concern to the day of accounting before the divine Shepherd, who sees His sheep dying of hunger because we would not feed them. Once the decision to pray seriously is made, we have to take the means to make our decision effec-tive: the preparation of points the night before, and hardest of all, the excluding of all the distracting thoughts that crowd into our minds at night and in the morning. (With regard to points, choosing a good book is a problem; the Gospels; the Psalms, and the Imitation are good stand-bys. New matter 213 HAROLD F., COHEN isn't necessary every day, for the same over a period of time often supplies all the spiritual food we need. Sometimes a book isn't at all necessary for determining the actual matter of the meditation, "for we simply can jot down a few thoughts that occur to us and fill in the remaining time by reading.) " In the moining we have to have the grim determination to stick at it despite the difficulty and not to consent to any dis-tractions. The final point is a check-up afterwards to see how it has gone, why thdse points helped, why I did or didn't do well, etc. We often neglect this; so it is good to recall that those wiser than we have suggested--or prescribed--it and that it is the means to progress in prayer. Before concluding, I would like to make three pertinent remarks. (1) A daily reading from the Gospels, if only one or two incidents, at the beginning of spiritual reading or points will be helpful in bringing about contact in prayer, bringing before us as it does Jesus in all His attractiveness. (2) There is no subject like the Passion of Christ to stir up our love and gratitude and zeal. (3) Some make no progress in prayer be-cause they have gotten all they can out of meditation and affective prayer. They need that simpler form of prayer, called by spiritual writers the prayer of simplicity. This prayer is described by Tanquerey in The Spiritual Life, and more at length by Lehodey, o.C.S.O., in Tke I~ays of Prayer and Pou-lain, s.J., in Tke Graces of Interior Prayer. The time has come" for the~e souls to slow down their rowing and start letting out their sails. To conclude, then, our weak interior life and poor apos-tolate are~ due mainly to a lack of serious prayer. Once we begin to pray in earnest and grow in friendship with Christ, He will give us the graces to lead a life united to Him and to pass on our love and enthusiasm to others. It is one of the promises of His Heart to make tepid souls fervent. What better time to remind Him of His promise than in our daily prayer? 214 Depart:ure From Religion on t:he I::xpira!:ion ot: a Temporary Prot:esslon ,Joseph F. Galleh, S.,J. 1. Definition. On the expiration of any temporary profession, e. g., of one, two, or three years, a religious is free to leave his institute; and the institute, for just and reasonable causes, may exclude the religious from making any further profession, i. e., a renewal of temporary vows or perpetual profession. An exclu-sion is not a dismissal. Dismissal in canon law is verified only by an expulsion during the. time of the vows. An exclusion is an expulsion at the expiration of the vows. Therefore, the canoni-ca~ norms on dismissal do not apply to an exclusion. In its nature, an exclusion is not so much an expulsion of a member but rather a refusal to admit to further profession and a judgment and decision that a subject in a probationary period of the reli-gious life does not possess a vocation at least for the particular institute) 2. Leaving. The religious has no canonical or moral obligation to remain. The code explicitly asserts his canonical freedom to leave (cc. 575, § I; 637). He is also morally free to leave, since no law of God commands him to remain in a life of counsel on the expiration of his vows. A moral obligation would arise only accidentally and in cases that are not very practical, i. e., if one had vowed to remain in religion or intended to leave because of a sinful motive.: Furthermore, in practically all these cases there would be a sufficient reason for a dispe~nsation or commutation of the private vow; find in the instance of the 1Cl¢. Bastien, Directoire Canonique, n. 607, 1-2; Goyeneche, De Religiosis, 194, note 10; D'Arnbrosio, /ll~ollinaris, 4-1931-124. zCf. Goyeneche, Commentarium Pro Religiosis, 5-1924-86-93; Schaefer, De Religidsis, n. 1519; Geser, Canon Law Governing Communities o/ Sisters, n. 1072. 215 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religion, s sinful motive, there would rarely be lacking also morally good and, at least in some cases, even compelling motives for such a religious to leave. The religious is not obliged to obt~iin the consent or approval of his superior of his intention to leave, but prudence would practically always demand that he consult his superiors or a prudent confessor concerning so important a decision. 3. Exclusion. (a) Competent superior. Canon 637 leaves to the constitutions the determination of the superior competent for exclusion. The constitutions of lay congregations .usually assign this right to the superior general with the consultive vote of his council, but a few demand the deliberative vote. A small number of constitutions give this power to the provincial or higher superiors either alone or with the consultive or, less fresluently, the deliberative vote of the council. If the consti-tutions contain no determination, the competent higher superior is the one who has the right to admit to the profession from which the religious is excluded. Since exclusion is merely the denial or correlative of admission to profession and admission require~ at least a consultive vote (c. 575, ~ 2), it would be more in conformity with the code for this higher superior to consult his council. Such consultation is not strictly obligatory, since canon 637 treats exclusion separately from admission and does not .impose any vote of a council. The same principle applies in a monastery of nuns to the superioress and the vote of her council or chapter when the matter of exclusion is not determined in the constitutions. No particular process is prescribed by the code for the decision oi~ exclusion. Since exclusion is merely the .negation of admission to profession, it is part .of the delibera-tions or decision on admissibn to the profession in question. A few authors state the eviden~ fact that canon 637 does not reserve exclusion to a higher superior and conclude that the constitu-tions may.assign this right to a local superior. Howev.er, this is not the practice of constitutions nor does it seem to be in con-formity with the evident nature of an exclusion, which is a re- 216 July, 1957 DEPARTURE AFTER TEMPORARY PROFESSION fusal of admission. Canon law reserves admission to profession to higher superiors (c. 543). (b) Sufficient reasons for exclusion. Evidently the sufficient reasons are those that render the, subject either certainly finsuited or only dubiously suited for admission to the profession in. ques-tion. It is permissible but not obligatory to grant a renewal or prolongation of. temporary vows in the latter case provided there is solid hope that certain suitability will be attained by the renewal or prolongation. The doctrine of many authors that the judg-ment of the sufficiency of the reasons for exclusibn is left to the conscience of the competent higher supe. rior is evident from the fact and law that the judgment of the suitability for a profession appertains to the competent higher superior (c. 543). The code expresses this principle of suitability in canon 637 by demanding merely just and reasonable, not serious'or grave, reasons for an exclfision. In judging the sufficieficy of the ~easons, the general good of the institute is to be considered above" that of" ~he indi-vidual. The following are the particular sufficient reasons usually listed by authors by way of example: the lack of a religious vocation or of a firm and constant vocation; serious doubts as to the general suitability of the subjecf for the religious life; inepti-tui: ie for the work of the institute, even if fully known to ~uperiors before profession, whether the ineptitude arises from~ a lack of general ability, intelligence, ol appl;c.ation, from ~i defect of pru-dent jtidgment, laziness, negligerice; or from culpable or inculp-able causes; if it is. foreseen'that th~ subject will be only a' very mediocre religious, will be tepid, careless in the spiritual life, or worldly; those who are habitually negligenh careless, or tepid in religious observance, even though not in gerious matters, and wh6 have refused to correct their conduct; those who cause serious discord in the community; those who will find community life very. difficult and will make it difficult for others; and when it-is foreseen that the subject will be rather harmful than ~usefu! to the institute. An exclusion without a just and reasonable motive 2~17 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious is a sin against charity and the law of the Church but it is not unjust nor invalid. In the very few institutes that have only temporary vows or in which the prescribed temporary profession is longer than six years, it is the more probable and common opinion that after more than six years in temporary vows merely just and reason-able causes do not suffice for exclusion but serious and' culpable reasons joined with incorrigibility are necessary. The argu. ments for this opinion are that canon 642, § 2, appears to liken a tem-~ porary profession beyond six years to perpetual vows and that it seems inequitable to exclude one who has been so long in religion for merely just and reasonable causes.3 (c) Ill Health. Ill health is a sufficient motive for exclusion only if it is proved with certainty that it had been contracted and fraudulently concealed or dissimulated before the first profession of temporary vows (c. 637). The same principle is true of dismissal (c. 647, § 2, 2°). Ill health is therefore not a sufficient motive for exclusion if it was contracted after the first profes-' sion or if it was contracted before this profession but was then known to the superior or, if unknown, was not fraudulently con-cealed or dissimulated before the first profession. The fraud must be proved with certainty. It is sufficient that the fraud have been committed by anyone who had the obligation of mani-esting th~ illness, i. e., the religious, his parents, or guardians.4 Lack of ability for the duties of the institute is not a suffi-cient reason for exclusion if it is the result of an infirmity that was not fraudulently concealed or dissimulated before first profes-sion, since What is true of sickness is also to be affirmed o.f the consequences of sickness. Such a religious may be counselled and 3D'Ambrosio, 05. cit., "4-1931-124-28; Vermeersch-Creusen, l!l~itome luri~ Canonici, I, n. 795; Creusen, Religious Men and IVomen in the Code n. 331, 2; Jombart, Tra",t "e de Dro"*t Canot*'*que, I, n. 903, 6; Jone,. Commenta"'r m" m *n C'od*- cem luris Canonici, I~ n. 560; Schaefer, 01b. cit., n. 1523; Sipos, En~t~iridion luris Canonici, 333. 4 Goyeneche, De Religiosis, 194. 218 ~ July, 1957 DEPARTURE AFTER TEMPORARY PROFESSION persuaded to leave religibr[ ~oluntarily 0~'~o transfer to the class of lay brother or sister. The principle with regard to ill health is true also of ail-ments such as hysteria and neurasthenia. Superiors, without using constraint, may counsel and persuade all such persons t6 leave religion voluntarily) If they will not leave, their ailment and conduct can constitute a serious problem. If their improper or strange conduct certainly or probably has its source in the ail-ment, they may not be excluded; if the malady is certainly only a pretext for such conduct, they may be excluded. Frequently at least, they should be taken to a specialist and may be sent to an institution for the care of such patients. The case may be presented with all its circumstances to the Sacred Congregation of Religious.6 These difficult cases make evident the care and decisiveness superiors should exercise in admission to the pos-tulanc); and noviceship and in dismissing unsuitable subjects dur-ing these periods of probation. The master of novices should promptly consult higher superiors concerning even probable man-ifestations of such conc~mons. Since canon 637 permits an exclusion for ill health only if it was fraudulently concealed before first profession, a novice may not be admitted to temporary profession as an experiment and on the condition that he will be excluded at the end of tem-porary vows if his health does not improve.6 (d) Insanity. The Sacred Congregation of Religious replied on February 5, 1925, that a religious could not be excluded from an institute because of habitual and complete insanity (total lack of use of reason), whether temporary (curable) or perpetual 5 Cf. Berutti, De Religiosis, 325. o Cf. Jombart, Revue des Communaute's Reli#ieuses, 5-1929-200-201; Bastien, o1~. cit., n. 631, 6. ~ Cf. Bastien, 0~. cir., 450, note ~. SCreusen, 0p. cir., n. 331, 1; Jombart, Trait[de Droit Canonique, I, n. 903, 5; Coronata, lnstitutiones luris Canonici, I, 838, note 5; Palombo, De Dimissione Religiosorum, 202, Bastien, o~. cir., n. 607, 5; Jone, olb. cir., I, 561; Goyeneche, Quaestiones Canonicae, II, 123-24. 219 JOSEPH F, GALLEN Review for Religious (incurable), contracted after first temporary profession.:' Evi-dently such a religious may not be admitted to a renewal of tem-porary vows or to perpetual p'rofession during the tim~ of his insanity, since he is incapable of a human act. He must be re-tained by the institute and therefore may not be sent away either by exclusion or dismissal. He remains in the same juridical con-dition as at the time he lost his mind; and consequently he has the same rights and the instiLute has the same obligations to him as to any professed of temporary vows. He may be sent to an institution and even to his own family, if the family freely asks or accepts his care. He is still a member of the institute, and the expenses of his support and care are to be borne by the institute unless the family freely accepts them. An absence of more than six months outside any house of the institute do~s not demand the permission of the Holy See in such a case J" If he recovers and is found suitable, he is to be admitted to further profession. Prudence would, practically always demand a pro-longation of temporary vows, and ordinarily such a person is to be advised to leave the institute for his own goodJ~ It is more probable that the time of the temporary profession continues to run during the insanity. From the reply of the Sacred Congre-gation, however, it is also probable that the time of such profes-sion is suspend.ed during the insanity. Even in the former opin-ion, the subject is still a member of the institute and must be retained when the time of the vows has expired. 4. Manifestation of reasons. The religious is to be informed ot~ his exclusion in due time, orally or in writing, by the com-petent higher superior, either personally or through another. The latter should be at least a local superior. Kindness is to be shown to the excluded religious. The code does not oblige the compe- '~ B.ouscaren, Canon La~" Digest, I, 309-10. ¯ ~o gEVtEW FOg gEt.tGIOUS, November, 1956, 290-91. ~ Cf. Maroto, Commentarium Pro Religiosis, 6-1925-177-79; Goyeneche, Quaes-tiones Canonicae, I, 430-31; Coronata, op. cit., I, n. 639; Regatillo-Zalba, De Statibus Particularibus, n. 25 I. 220 July, 1957 DEPARTURE AFTER TEMPORARY PROFESSION tent supdrior to manifdst "tl~e.reasons for ~the exclusion to the religious. This may be done, and some authors counsel it that the religious may institute a recourse to a higher superior or the Holy See if he chooses to do so. The reasons should always be drawn up completely and accurately and retained in the files of the institute so that a replK may be given in the event of a recourse, .par'ticularly of one to the Holy See. 5. Recourse. The code says nothing about a recourse against an exclusion. The religious may institute a recourse to a higher superior or the Sacred Congregation of Religious simply because a religious may always do this against an action of a lower author-ity that he believes to be unreasonable or unjustified. There is no special right either from canon law or the nature of the matter of making a recourse against an exclusion. A recourse to the Sacred Congregation has very little hope.of, success except in the case of a clearly illeg'al exclusion,r' The Holy See evidently knows that by canon law (c. 54J) the competent superior is the judge of the suitabiliW of a subject for profession and conse- .quently of.the sufficiency of the motives for exclusion from pro-fession. It" is equally clear that motives that may not appear sufficient in. themselves are often such when viewed as a whole and joined with observation of the .subje~t. A recourse does not suspend ttie effect of the exclusion. The religious should leave the institfite and put ~ff the religious habit. He may be per-mitted to r~main in a: house of the institute and to wear the habit until i~he recourse is definitively settled. 6. Effects of a voluntary departure and of exclusion. If a re-ligious voluntarily leaves or is excluded at the expiration of a temporary profession, the vows cease. There is no need of a dis-pensation from the vows. The other effects in either case are the same as in secularization, which were explained in the RE'CIF~W FOR RELIGIOUS, September, 1956, 233-36. r2Bastien, op. tit., n. 607, 3; Jombart, Re¢aur des Communaute's Reliyieuses, 5-1929-164. 221 JOSEPH F, GALLEN Review for Religious 7. Moment at which the religious fully departs. The i,mportance of the answer to .this question is that it determines the exact mo-ment in which the religious is freed of his vows, ceases to be a religious, is bound by the diriment impediment of a previous religious profession, and rendered incapable of valid admission to the noviceship of any institute without a dispensation from the Holy See (c. 542, 1°). After such an admission, a noviceship and temporary profession must be made for the full time pre-scribed by the constitutions of the particular institute. The religious fully departs at the moment in which his external and absolute declaration of not making a further profession or the external and absolute declaration of the competent superior of not admitting him to a further profession is joined with the expiration of temporary vows.~3 There are two probable opinions on the moment of the expiration of temporary vows, caused by conflicting interpreta-tions of canon 34, § 3, 5; but either of these opinions may be followed. In the first opinion, the vows expire at any moment on the anniversary day when such a declaration is made or, if made .previously, has not been retracted: Therefore,. if the vows were made for a year, Augut 15, 1956-August 15, 1957, and such a declaration was previously made, the vows expire at midnight of August 14-15, 1957. In this opinion, the sub-ject may depart from the institute at any hour on the anniversary day, i. e., August 15, 1957. If no such declaration has been made, the vows expire at midnight of August 15-16, 1957.14 A second opinion maintains that the vows, when they are not renewed or perpetual profession is not made, never expire before midnight of the anniversary day, i. e., August 15-16, 1957. In this opinion, the subject may depart from the institute at any hour on the day after the anniversary day, i. e., August 16, 1957.1'~ la Cf. Abbo-Hannan, The Sacred Canons, I; 656; Beste, lntroductio in Codicem, 431; Cervia, De Proiessione Religiosa, 110; Coronata, op, cir., I, r~. 639; Goy-eneche, De Reli#iosis, 193; Jone, o,~. cir., I, 562; Schaefer, o,~. clt., nn. 1519-20; Regatillo-Zalba, o/~. cit., n. 250. 14 Cf. Vermeersch-Creusen. o~0. cir., I, n. 728, and the authors there cited. ~sCf. Michiels, Normae Generales Juris Canonici, II, 269, and the authors 222 July, 1957 DEPARTURE AFTER TEMPORARY PROFESSION Neither opinion demands tha't the religiotis have actually departed from the institute. In the rare absence of an explicit declaration, a departure from the institute would constitute an implicit declara-tion not to make a further profession. An external and absolute declaration is necessary. If the religious does not renew his vows or make perpetual profession for some time after the expiration, e. g., because of doubts about his vocation or illness, and later wishes to make profession, he may be admitted to the profession. A merely interior, doubtful, or hesitant declaration of not making or excluding from profession does not suffice. The absolute declaration of not making or of excluding from profession may be revoked before the vows have cergainly expired, i. e., at midnight of the anniversary day, August 15-16 in the example given ,above. Neither declaration may be revoked after the ~iows have certainly expired, even if the religious has not as yet left the institute. 8. Departure before expiration. If serious reasons so demand, superiors may permit a religious to leave a day or two before the. expiration of his vows ~rovided he puts off the religious habit and intends to observe his vows until the anni,~ersary day. Such a reason is the difficulty or embarrassment his .presence would cause as profession proximately approaches or on the profession day.~ If so required by urgent reasons, superiors, in virtue of canon 606, § 2, may permit an earlier departure, e. g., two or three weeks. If a much earlier departure is judged necessary, application should be made for an indult of secularization. FONTI VIVE In March, 1957, Fonti Vive, a quarterly Review of Passion Spir-ituality, began its third year of publication in Caravate (Varese), Italy. The varied articles on theological, liturgical, biblical, and mystical sub-jects seek to promote the understanding, contemplation, and the living out in our lives of Christ's Passion. Those readers of gEVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS who are able to read Italian will be interested in this new publication devoted to Passion spirituality. The editor is Reverend Costante Brovetto, C.P., S.T.D. .there cited. ~6 Creusen, op. cir., n. 331, 3. 223 Survey ot: Roman Document:s R. F. SmiEh, S.J. IN THIS article a survey will be given of those docu-ments which appeared in the Acta Al~Ostolicae ,Sedis (AAS) from January 1, 1957, to March 31, 1957. It should be noted that all page references in the present article are to the 1957 AAS (volume 49}, even when th~o document discussed may bear a date from 1956. Christmas Message of 1956 The Holy Father's Christmas message of 1956 (AAS, pp. 5-22) was easily the outstanding doclament published, in AAS during the period surveyed. The document is a long one of some seven thousand words; it is interesting to note that a large part of the message was not actually spoken b~; the Holy Fafher on Christmas Eve, but was merely published in the official text of the message. In the introduction to his message the Holy Father empha-sizes the contradictidn to be found in the twentieth century: On the one hand there is the confident hope, of modern man that he, as author of the second technical revolution~ c~n bring a life of fullness and plenty to all; and on the other hand there is the bitter fact of the long, long years of grief, ruiri, and fear that the modern world has just endured. His Holiness then begins the first of the three parts into which his message 'is divided by remarking't~hat' the above, con-tradiction can be resolved only by a knowledge and acceptance of human reality in all its completeness. From the crib of Bethlehem man can learn the origins/1 goodness and power given to him in paradise; but he also learns the weakness of human nature that was first manifested in the sin of Adam and Eve and that then became the heritage of all later generations. 22_4 ROMAN DOCUMENTS We know, continues the Vicar of Christ, that man's co.ntrol over nature was given him for the benefit, not the endangering, of human society; original sin has not removed man's dominion 6ver the world, but only security in the exercise of that domin-ion. Neither has original sin destroyed man's capacity to shape history, though it is no less c.ertain that after original sin human life is a mixture of confidence and misery, of security and un-certainty, of life and death. At the crib, however, we also learn that Christ is our Redeemer, come to restore man to his divine sonship and to bestow the grace whereby the disorder produced by original sin and by later personal sins can be overcome at least in the interior of man, if not always exteriorly. The Christian then possesses all the elements necessary to overcome the contra-diction of the twentieth cent~ury in his interior life; this, how-ever, gives him no right to excuse himself from contributing to the external solution of .that contradiction. To make such a contribution, the Pontiff adds, the Chris-tian must have a Clear idea of what modern man thinks of sin. Because modern man does not ddmit sin, he attributes the per-verse inclinations of man to a kind of sickness and functional weakness which of themselves are curable. Modern man~the~ awaits the day when a perfecting of human knowledge will allow him to heal all such moral sicknesses. This technological solution to the problem of moral evil completely overlooks the truth that man is a subject of free action--good or bad--and leads to innumerable evil results: softness in education; indul-gence to crime; aversion to even just punishment; the a~tempt to solve social problems not through the consciende and respon-sibility of individuals, but by the' attainment of a greater knowl-edge of the mechanics of social structures. In the second part of his message Piu~ XII says that one of. the bases of the twentiet,h-century[ contradiction onsists in the hope to create a completely_ new society without reference to 225 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious the history that has shaped man. This attitude is the 'result of that technological realism which admits no limits to human power, subjects every reality to a method of technique, and places unlimited confidence in technological know-how. For technological man, the entire world is but a laboratory wherein he treats social life like a machine which he dismantles and then attempts to reconstruct according to his own pre-conceived pattern. It is here that technological man encounters the insur-mountable obstacle of history. For social life has been created slowly through the contributions of many generations; and it is only upon those contributions that new progress can be built. The dynamics of reform must always respect the traditions of society which safeguard human security without destroying the free and personal action of any part of society. The third part of the Christmas message is the one that most drew the world's attention to the Pope's speech. Thd Holy .Father begins this part by noting that while liberty, per-sonal responsibility, social order, and genuine progress are truly human values, they are in their origin religious and divine values. This religious foundation, however, is today being replaced by economic and political explanations which deny all absolute values. The Holy Father then turns to consider l~ractical ways by which world peace can be achieved. First of all, he says, it is necessary that all men of good will unite together against their common enemy who seeks to impose on all peoples an intolerable form of life. Today's situation, says the Vicar of Christ, is clear to all. There can no longer be any doubts about the purposes and methods that lie behind armed tanks, when.these crash through border frontiers and force a people into a life they abhor. No doubt of purposes, or methods can remain, when possibilities of mediation and negotiation a~e dis-regarded and threats are made to use atomic power for the gaining of specific demands, whether or not these demands are justified. 226- July, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS In the present circumstances it is ~ossible to have the case where, after all efforts to avoid it have been useless, war for the purpose of effective self-defense and with the hope of favorable results cannot be considered as illicit. Hence, if in a case of extreme need a. government chosen by free elections decides on defensive precautions and puts into execution the means necessary for. this, such an action is not immoral; and a Catholic citizen cannot appeal to his own conscience to refuse his services or to fail in the duties assigned by law. The Pontiff then considers the United Nations, the first time that he has spoken of this organization at great length. The United Nations, he remarks, intends to secure absolute values in the co-existence of peoples. Still, the recent past has shown that the false realism of self-interest and power has influ-enced not a few of the members of the United Nations, so that cases of destroying the peace have been treated quite differ-ently. It is reasonable to expect that the authority of the United Nations should be felt, at least through its observers, in all those places where"the essential values of man are in extreme danger. It is desirable that nations who refuse the admission of observers and thereby show that their. concept of national sovereignty threatens the very foundations of the United Na-tions should not be permitted the exercise of their rights as members of that organization. Moreover, the United Nations should have the right and the power to prevent every military intervention of one nation into another and to assume through a sufficient police force the safeguarding of order in a nation so threatened. The Holy Father adds that he refers to these defects only because he wishes to strengthen the authority of the United Nations, for i,t is only through such an organization' that the promise to reduce armaments and to renounce the production and use of certain kinds of weapons can be exchanged between nations ~lnder a strict obligation of international law. Like- 227 R. F. SMITH Review for Religion,s wise, only the United Nations can demand the observance of this obligation by hssuming effective control of the armaments of all nations through a systematic and permanent p'rogram of aerial observation. The Holy Father then adds that the acceptance of such armament control is the crucial point of today; in accepting such control, each nation of the world will manifest the sincerity of its will for peace. Pain, Anesthesia, and the Christian On February 24, 1957 (AAS, pp. 129-47), the Holy Father delivered a long allocution in reply to three questions concerning anesthesia which had been submitted td him by the ninth National Congress of the Italian Society of Anesthesi-ology. After an introduction in which the Holy Father gives an appreciative statement of the importance of the anesthetist in modern surgery and describes the history of anesthesia in ¯ modern times, the Pontiff takes up the first question asked of him: Is there a general moral obligation to refuse anesthetics and to accept physical pain in the spirit of faith? Putting aside the case where a Christian must endure pain rather than offend God, Pius XII points out that there is no obligation to accept all suffering and to refuse the use of anesthesia; for man, even after the fall, has the right to dominate the forces of nature and to use all its resources to avoid or. suppress physical pain. On the other hand, for the Christian, suffering is not some-thing merely negative but is associated with the highest religious and moral values; hence, suffering can be willed and sought for even when there is no moral obligation to do so. Moreover, a Christian is bound to mortify his body and to purify himself interiorly; to the extent that this cannot be achieved without physical pain, to that extent the Christian must accept such pain. Outside of that case, hbwever, it cannot .be said that a Christian has a strict obligation to accept pain. The Vicar of Christ then takes up the question from the viewpoint of Christian perfection: Should a Christian accept 228 ROMAN DOCUMENTS physical pain in order that h~ may not put himself in contradic-tion to the ideal proposed to him by his faith? While it is true, the Holy Father replies, that a Christian experiences the desire to accept and even to seek physical' pain in order to participate the more closely in the Passion of Christ, still it is necessary to interpret this tendency in a correct way. When a Christian, day after day, from mo.rning till night, fulfills the duties of his state in life and of his profession, when he keeps the commandments of God and of men, when he prays, loves his neighbor, accepts without murmuring what God sends him, then his life is surely under the sign of the cross, whether physical suffering be present or not, and whether he endures such suf-fering or avoids it by licit means. The acceptance of physical suffering is only one way, among many, of manifesting what is essential: the will to love and serve God in all things. His Holiness then considers the reasons which permit the avoidance of physical pain. All these reasons, he says, can be reduced to a single general principle: pain prevents the attain-ment of higher goods and interests. Pain may be better for a given person in a given set of circumstances; but, generally speaking, the losses which pain provokes force men to defend themselves against it. A Christian will use pain as a stimulant in his ascent towards God, but the application of this principle will always be a personal matter to be decided by the rules of Christian prudence and with the help of an experienced director of souls. In conclusion~ the Holy Father sums up his. answer to the first question under three headings: (1) Anesthesiology in its fundamental principles is not morally wrong, for it seeks to combat forces which from many points of view produce evil effects and prevent greater goods. (2) The physician who accepts anesthesiology is in contradiction neither with the nat-ural moral order nor with the specifically Christian ideal, for hd is seeking, as God Himself orders in Genesis 1:28, to submit 229 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious pain to the power of man. (3) The patient who wishes to avoid or lessen pain can, without disquiet to his conscience, use the means found by this science. Particular circumstances may im-pose another line of conduct; but the Christian ideal of renuncia-tion does not constitute an obstacle to the use of anesthesia, for that ideal can be fulfilled in other ways. The second question submitted to the Holy Father was this: Is the privation or diminution of consciousness and of the use of mail's higher faculties that is induced by narcotics com-patible with the spirit of the Gospel? In other words, does the example of Christ in abstaining from the wine offered Him before the crucifixion mean that a Christian may not accept total or partial loss of consciousness? The Pope begins by reflecting that a human being is bound to conform his actions to the requirements of the moral order; this, however, can be done only by the use of his higher faculties. This is the reason why there is a moral obli-gation not to deprive oneself of consciousness unless there is a true necessity for such deprivation. Hence, one cannot inter-fere with or suppress consciousness merely for the sake of obtaining pleasant sensations and a certain kind of euphoria. In the case of surgery, the Pontiff points out, what the surgeon primarily wishes to secure is the suppression of painful sensation, not of consciousness. Violent pain can easily provoke involuntary and reflex actions which are capable of producing undesirable complications and even fatal cardiac difficulties. The preservation then of psychic and organic equilibrium constitutes for the surgeon and the patient an important objective which only narcosis can effect. In concluding his reflections on the second question asked him, the Holy Father says that from the action of Christ on Calvary it follows that a 'man ought to accept and drink the chalice of pain whenever God desires it. But it doeg not follow that God desires this whenever and wherever suffering presents 230 July, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS itself to a man. Often the acceptance of guffering is not obliga-tory nor a matter of, perfection. Regularly enough there exist serious motives for easing pain and suffering. J~n such cases one can avoid pain without in any way compromising the doctrine of the Gospel. The third question proposed .to the Vicar of Christ was' composed of two parts: (1) Is the use of narcotics licit in the case of .the dying, supposing that such use is medically indi-cated? . (2) May narcotics be used in cases where the' lessening of pain will probably be accompanied by a shortening of life? In reply the Holy Father asserts fhat neither reason nor rdvelation teaches that the dying, more than others, have a moral obligation to accept pain or to refuse to avoid it. Since, how'ever, pain contributes to the expiation of personal sin and to the acquisition of greater merit, the dying have special motives for accepting pain, because their time of merit is draw-ing to a close. These motives, however, must be understood correctly. Growth in.the lo~¢e of God and abandonment to His will do not proceed from the sufferings which a person accepts, but from the intention of the will supported by grace. In the case of many dying persons this intention can be strengthened if their suffering is lessened, for pain aggravates their physical weakness and hence diminishes their moral strength, while the suppression of pain secures organic and psychic relaxation, facilitates prayer, and makes possible a more generous gift of self. If the dying consent to suffering as a means of expiation and a source of merit, then one should not force anesthesia on them. Nor is it always opportune to suggest to the dying the ascetical considerations of expiation and merit mentiQned above, and it should .always be remembered that pain may even be the occasion of new faults. With regard to depriving a dying person of consciousness, one should recall that Christ died in full consciousndss and that the Church's prayers for the dying presuppose that the dying 231 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious person is conscious. Hence, men should not of their own initiative deprive a dying person of consciousness, unless serious motives for such action are present. A dying person, continues the P~ntiff, may not permit or demand anesthesia if thereby he puts himself in a state where he cannot fulfill g~ave obligations which are incumbent on him, such as the making of a will or of going to confession. If in such cases the dying person dema~ads narcosis for which sound medical reasons are present, a physician should not administer it without first inviting the patient to fulfill his duties. If the sick person refuses to do so and continues to demand narcosis, the physician may administer it without being guilty of formal collaboration in the fault committed by the dying man. But if the dying person has performed all his duties and has received the last sacraments, if there are medical reasons for anesthesia, if the correct doses are given., if the intensity and duration of the anesthesia is carefully watched, and if the patient consents, then anesthesia is morally permissible. As to the licitness of using narcotics which will probably shorten life, the Pope warns that in such cases all direct euthan-asia, that is, the administration of narcotics to provoke or hasten death, is illicit, for such action directly disposes of human life. Bt~t when narcotic.s are administered only to avoid intolerable pain for the patient, th~ administration of narcosis is licit if it produces two distinct effects: the cessation of pain on the one hand and on the other the shortening of life. However, there must also be a reasonable proportion between the two effects and it should be ascertained if means other than the depriving of consciousness could achieve the desired result. The Holy Father concludes his allocution by recalling to the minds of his" listeners the infinitely higher and more beau-tiful life to which man is called and which i~ perceptible even here below in those into whom Christ pours His" redemptive 232 Jldy, 1957 ROMAN. DOCUMENTS love, which alone definitively triumphs over both suffering and death. Miscellaneous Matters On February 1, 1957 (AAS," pp. 91-95), the Sacred Con-gregation of Rites issued a decree introducing a number of modifications into the rites of Holy Week as. set forth in a pre-ceding decree of November 16, 1955. Several documents of early 1957 dealt with saints or with processes of canonization. By an apostolic letter (AAS, pp. 61-62) the Roman Pontiff designated the sainted martyrs Clau-dius, Nicostratus, Symphorianus, Castorius, and Simplicius the special patrons of all stone and marble workers. On January 22, 1957 (AAS, pp. 169-71), the Sacred Congregation of Rites approved the two miracles necessary for the beatification of the Venerable Servant of God Mire Marie de la Providence, foundress of the Helpersof the Holy Souls (1825-71). The same congregation (AAS, pp. 40-42; 82-85; 85-87; 88-90) also approved the introduction of the causes of the following servants of God: Mary Lichtenegger (1906-23); Stephen of Adoain, priest and professed Capuchin (1808-80); Sister Frances of the Wounds of Jesus (1860-99); and Joseph Mafianet y Vires, priest and founder of the Sons of the Holy Family and of the Daughters of the Holy Family of Nazareth (1833-1901). On January 13, 1957 (AAS, pp. 43-44) the Sacred Peni-tentiary attached an indulgence of a thousand days to a prayer for C.hristian families composed by the Holy Father on the feast of Christ the King, October 31, 1954. On February 9, 1957 (AAS, pp. 100-101), an indulgence was attached to the recita-tion of the prayer of the Holy Father for religious vocations; the text of the prayer and the details of the indulgence were given in the May, 1957, issue of REVIE~V FOR RELIGIOUS (p. 165). Several shorter addresses of the Holy Father were published in AAS during the first three months .of 1957. Speaking on 233 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious December 16, 1956 (AAS, pp. 68-72), to the second Eucha-ristic Congress of Bolivia, Plus XII said that the Eucharist is the principal means of knowing Jesus Christ, of penetrating oneself with the greatness of His mission, and of feeling the impulse to continue that mission through the priesthood. In a written message to the third general assembly of the Internal tional Federation of Catholic Youth the Pope urged the group to grow in love and' respect for the Church and to deepen their spiritual lives as the necesshry condition for any fruitful apostolate. When he spoke to the council of the International Federation of Catholic Men, the Vicar of Christ pointed out to them that the visible unity of Christians intensely living their faith is in itself a massive apostolate and a vast testimony that obliges all men of good will to salutary reflection. The Holy Father took the occasion of the Italian Mother's Day (AAS, pp. 72-76) to speak on the duty of all adults to secure for all children the possibility of a full physical and moral development. The Association of Catholic Teachers of Bavaria was told by the Pope (AAS, pp. 63-65) that it is against one of the fundamental human rights to force parents to confide their children to a school whose ~eachers are indifferent or even hostile to the religious convictions of the home. In an address to a group of teachers and students from the newly formed Catholic University in Mexico, the Holy Father remarked that their institution was to be a true Catholic University, dedicated to the training of well-educated and outstanding sons of the Church who can constitute the leaders of their country. Five documents issuing from the Sacred Congregation of Seminaries and Universities (AAS, pp. 95-96; 97; 97-98; 172- 73; 173-74) give continued evidence of the growth of intel-lectual activity in the Church. The documents provided for the canonical establishment of the following: a higher institute of pedagogy in the faculty of philosophy of the Pontifical Salesian Athenaeum; a philosophical institute in the faculty of 234 July, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS theology of Angers; a faculty of philosophy in the Pontifical University of Salamanca; a second Catholic University in Brazil; and a faculty of medicine in the Catholic University of Peru. o A set of questions was published (AAS, pp. 150~63) for the use of military vicars in making their triennial reports to the Sacred Congregation of the Consistory. A decree and a set of norms were issued (AAS, pp. 163-69) for the establish-ingo of ecclesiastical tribunals in the Philippine Islands to deal with matrimonial cases of nullity. On January 21, 1957 (AAS, p. 77), the Holy Office answered in the affirmative the ques-tion whether affinity, contracted before baptism, is an impedi-ment for marriages entered upon after the baptism of only one of the parties. The Holy Office (AAS, p. 34) also warned ordinaries and clergy that the Institute of the Apostles of the Infinite Love and the institute Magnificat are not recognized by the Church and are forbidden to the faithful. Norms for the abso-lution of secular "and regular priests in Hungary whose nom-inations to ecclesiastical offices and benefices were not in accord-ance with canon law were published by the Sacred Congregation of the Council (AAS, pp. 38-39). Finally, .the Holy Office by a decree of January 30, 1957 (AAS, pp. 77-78), placed on the Index of Forbidden Books the two following works of Miguel de Unamuno: Del senti~niento trelgico de la vida and La agonia del Cristianisrno, at the same time warning the faithful that other books of the same author contain a a number of matters contrary to faith and morals. (Both of the books mentioned above have been translated into English under the following titles: The Tragic Sense of Life [New York: Dover, 1954]; and The Agony of Christianity [New York: Brewer, 1928]). With this the survey of AAS for January through March of 1957 is concluded; succeeding articles will continue the survey with later issues of AAS. 235 AIIocufion Concerning TerfiansFfip Pope Pius XII Introductory Note According to the the plan of St. Ignatius .Loyola for the training of his sons for the priesthood, there is a short introductory stage called the first probation in which the candidate becomes acquainted with the religious life and superiors with him. Following this intro-duction is the regular novitiate which, together with the first proba-tion, is to l~ist at least two full years and which is also called the second probation. Next come the long years of study and work in the juniorate, philosophy, regency or teaching, aad theology. St. Ignatius realized that such a course could and often would cool the fervor of the novitiate and dim the-spiritual vision of his sons. Consequently, he piescribed at the end of the whole course of forma-tion another period of spiritual discipline which was to last a tea-month year and is called the third probation or, more commonly, the tertianship. During this year the fervor of the earlier years is rekindled and the appreciation of and-attachment to the Society olc Jesus deepened by an intense study of the constitutions. In rather recent years a number of other religious communi-ties have introduced a tertianship period of varying lengths of time. Some other communities are considering whether to require a tertianship of their members. Fr., Larraona of the Sacred Con-gregation for Religious has said that "Rome views with favor the so-called 'third year of probation' " because it "has incalculabl~ advantages" but it "is not in any way imposed by the Sacred Con-gregation" (gEvIEw FOP. RELIGIOUS, November, 1954, 302). In an allocution to the Jesuit instructors (masters) of tertians, March 25, 1956 (AAS) 48(1956)269-72), Pope Pius XII dwells on the purpose and program of a tertianship and the importance and in-fluence of the instructor on his tertians. Moreover, he ~rges the preservation of the tertianship against those who propose arguments against it which reflect a spirit which on at least two other occasions he has labelled the "heresy of action" (cf. apostolic letter on the centenary of the Apostleship of Prayer, June 16, 1944~English ver- 236 AL.LOCUTION ~ONCERNING TERTIANSHIP sion in the Messenger o/ the Sacred Heart, 79(Dec.,1944) 13; exhorta-tion on the priesthood, Menti Nostrae, Sept. 23, 1950, paragraph 60). Because it was thought that the Holy Father's allocution on the ter-tianship would be ot: interest to those already requiring a tertianship as well as to those considering whether to have one, the following translation is given.--James I. O'Connor, s.J. The Allocution Beloved sons now present before Us, members of the curia of the Society of Jesus, and you, especially, instructors of the third probation, summoned to Rome by the very wise zeal of your Father General, who is very dear to Us, We know that your request is so reasonable and restrained that it would suffice for you to receive from Us the apostolic blessing in a public audience. And yet, although pressed at the present time with so great a host of occupations and cares, We still wish to go aside for a little while with you so that opening Our paternal heart, We may give testimony of Our singular good will to your whole illustrious order and especially to you, instructors, to whom has been committed an office requiring great understand-ing and' prudence. You certainly are a most select section of tl~e Society of Jesus, especially since you have been chosen and numbered among those of your members having special authority: "those who possess authority" (cf. Epit. Inst., S.J., p. V, cap. II, n. 340). For you discharge an office of the greatest importance since it pertains to that class of matters which your institute lists as "substantials of the second order" (Ibid., Proem., tit. V, n. 22). That it should be so is very easy~to understand. For this is the highest and final touch to the work and labor extended over a long period of time in forming souls in the ways of religion and piety. If We may so speak, this is another way whereby the spear is returned to the forge before it is used in apostolic warfare. It is during this interval that the young person is exercised in the "school of affection" to develop thor-oughly the special gifts of his soul. Finally, then, he is urged 237 Pxus XII Review for Religious on to very arduous undertakings, namely, to "a greater abne-gation of himself and, as 'far as possible, to continual mortifica-tion in all things" (Exam., cap. IV, n. [1031, p. 59), so that "when they have advanced in these, they mhy the better help on other souls to perfection to the glory of God and our Lord" (Const. cure Dec/ar., p. V, cap. II, n. I). I. This was your 'founder's ingenious and sagacious pur-pose which has been continuously reduced to practice with great progress in the religious life and which was later more and more accepted and imitated by other institutes.as well. Nevertheless, because four centuries have elapsed since this plan dawned upon his mind and was brought into effect, it can happen that to some people of our time it appears less fitting for various rea-sons, e.g., because people of today are prone to act more promptly and hastily or because the needs of the 'apostolate are more demanding than in times past. Ours is the completely opposite opinion, for the great need of our time is an interior religious life distinguished by constancy, soundness, and strength, most especially because the service and good of souls demand better-trained apostles. As a result, the period of tertianship should be considered really sacred, divinely inspired, and fully and justly worthy of every effort to preserve it. For this reason We exhort you to see to it that, when the course of studies has been completed, each and every one without any exception be given this whole year devoted to intense meditation in houses set aside for this purpose, in which, as far as possible, the tests and probations of the novitiate be again undergone and the prescriptions and rules observed to the letter. II. Nevertheless, in the whole ascetical training of the ter-tianship We desire that you direct singular care to the matter of special importance, namely, that you devote mind and effort to obtaining a thorough kr~owledge of your institute and to im-bibing the spirit with which it is imbued (Epit., p. V, c. III, n. 435). Moreover, the very resplendent character of this form 238 July, 1957 ALLOCUTION CONCERNING TERTIANSHIP of religious life is manifest in the golden book of the Spiritual Exercises which time and again We have highly praised. See to it that. your tertians more and more understand, search into, relish, esteem, and love everything contained in those pages: the notes, additional directions, meditations, contemplations, rules. In each matter let them carefully discern what is the underlying reason, its aim, and why it is found in this or that place. Exercise vigilant care that, when the tertianship is com-pleted, they are thoroughly convinced that the Ignatian way and plan must be fully preserved and that nothing which clearly per-tains to its nature is ever to be removed from it. This observ-ance and reverence Will have this special effect, that such prudent safeguards will continue their effectiveness in accomplishing won-ders as they have done in the past, provided, of course, there is no let-up by an inconstant will or a breakdown of moral fibre. III. Finally, dearly beloved instructors,.spare no labor, spare no effort, strive earnestly and pour out prayers to God that what is especially sought in this important period may have a most favorable outcome. For young religious, after they have been set free from. so many years of study, easily fall into the danger of neglecting spiritual matters or of holding them in little esteem because the fires enkindled earlier die down. But if they betake themselves again into the solitude of this retreat and give them-selves over to voluntary bodily chastisement, they not only will regain their early moral strength but will also acquire new strength, increased and steadfast, which will serve them profitably ~ven in the subsequent years of their life. Great will be their incen-tive to the study of devout prayer, to the austerity of life and the restraint of the senses which, with eyes full of wonderment, they behold in you. Your. words, at once a source of light and of fire, will illumine their minds and impart to their souls the sparks of divine flame. For their journey along safe paths you will be guides, clearly and conspicuously prudent, safe and trustworthy, keeping them by warning and exhortation from running after 239 P~us XII doctrines which pertain to Catholic dogma, morality, asceticism, and sociology but which by their alluring novel ideas show a certain false and insidious nature. By means of your characteristic active charity and your lov-able zeal you will discover how to ward off tedium, if it should arise, from your fellow-members, returned from a freer form of life, and how to curb what may be immoderate apostolic ardor in those who now experience in caring for the salvation of souls the sweet consolations of heavenly grace. It seemed to Us fitting to address to you in this audience these words, few and hasty because of the limitations of time. From all parts of the world you have assembled here and soon, when your meetings have come to an end, you will return, .each to his own province. Take with you the special apostolic bless-ing We lovingly impart to you in the present auspicious year in which with public joy you observe the solemn celebration of the glorious passing of your lawgiver and father. 'And let this be the outstanding fruit of this celebration that the spirit by which you are called by God fo lay hold on the religious life may more and more breathe upon you in greater intensity and ardor. How-ever, these desirable and magnificent gains will deriye their most providential increase from you especially, instructors, and your activity. Finally, may God, the bestower of gifts, bless all of you and each of your tertians. May He bless and bestow plenteous heavenly solace on your most praiseworthy Father General; on the members associated with him in the curia as well as on the whole Society of Jesus to which We are bound by ever sweeter and closer bonds of paternal charity and high esteem. OUR CONTRIBUTORS SfSTER MARY ST. ROSE teaches at Summit Country Day School, 2161 Grandin Road, Cincinnati 8, Ohio. HAROLD F. COHEN is studying at the Colegio Maximo de San Francisco Javier, Ofia (Burgos), Spain. JOSEPH F. GALLEN is profes~sor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. R. F. SMITH is a member of the faculty of St; Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. JAMES I. O'CON-NOR is professor of .canon law at West Baden College,. West Baden Springs, Indiana. 240 t oo1 Reviews [Material for this department should be sent to Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana.] FAITH AND PREJUDICE AND OTHER UNPUBLISHED SER-MONS OF CARDINAL NEWMAN. Edited by the Birmingham Oratory. Pp. 128. Sheed and Ward, New York 3, New ~York. 1956. $2.50. Faith and Prejudice is a short book containing some hitherto unpublished sermons of Cardinal Newman. It is only the third volume to be published of the sermons Newman preached as a Catholic, and it follows the first two after a gap of seventy~ years. The first seven sermons of the book were preached in the year 1848, three years after Newman joined the Catholic Church. Their style has much of the beautiful simplicity noted ia Newman's youth. The Sunday gospel is the subject matter of these sermons. They are addressed to the congregations of an ordiaary city parish. New-man is especially adept at taking a single thought and dwelling on it with warmth and unction. In the first sermon, for example, his thought could 13e crystallized into the sentence: The omnipotence of God is the reason for our faith and hope. Yet Newman takes this somewhat'cold statement ot: fact, so clothes it in familiar examples from the life of Christ, that it becomes no longer a mere theological thesis but rather a living person asking, "Why, then, are you fearful?" For a man of such tremendous learning Newman shows a remark-able ability to understand the circumstances of everyday life in which his hearers had to live out their Catholicism. His application of theory is both concrete and practical. Thus, in a sermon preached on tl~e first Sunday ofLent, 1848, he points out the need for. the modern age to find its penance in a mortification of the reason and the will. His application of this idea to curiosity is perhaps even more perti-nent to our own day, one hundred years and more after Newman spoke these words: "What a deal of time is lost, to say nothing else, in this day by curiosity, about things which in no ways concern us. I am not speaking' against interest in the news of the day altogether, for' the course of the world must ever be interesting to a Christian from its bearing upon the fortunes of the Church, but I speak of vain curios- 241 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious ity, love of sc~indal,, love of idle tales, curious prying into the private histo# of people, curibsity about trials and offences, and personal matters, nay often what is much worse than this, curiosity into sin. What strange diseased curiosity is sometimes felt about the history of murders and the malefactors themselves! Worse still, it is shock-ing to say, but there is so much evil curiosity to know about deeds of darkness, of which the Apostle' says that it is shameful to speak. ¯ . . Hen'ce this is the way in which we are called upon, with this Lent we now begin, to mortify ourselves[ Let u's mortify our curiosity" (p. 71). Perhaps the most interesting sermon is that preached in 1873 at the opening of a diocesan seminary. The growth of unbelief is the subject, and it must have had a powerful impact on Newman. With a keen eye for what the future would bring, he shows the difficulties which the weakening of Protestantism entails for the Catholic Church. It weakens or removes a common ally in the battle against those God-less men who would destroy Christianity. The preacher also recog-nizes what problems would arise from the growing strength of the Catholic Church in a Protestant country, problems of suspicion, fear, and prejudice. He exhorts the semin'arians to the practice of the presence of God as a powerful means of overcoming an age of un-belief. To this they must add a sound, accurate, complete knowledge of Catholic theology; with these weapons the future priests will be strong for the combat. As a whole; these sermons reflect Newman's confidence in prayer and faith and obedience more than do his university sermons which are pitched on a higher intellectual plane~ The present volume is. a welcome addition to Newman's published works. It is a book whose true worth will only be fully appreciated after repeated thoughtful reading. --J. DOtC~,LD" H,~YES,. S.J. PRINCIPLES OF SACRAMENTAL THEOLOGY. By Bernard Leeming~ S.J. Pp, 690. The Newman Press, Westminster, Mary-land. 1956. $6.75. Father Leeming's book, a treatise on the sacraments in ~general, is written for everyone~whether expert theologian, teacher of religion, or competent layman--who is interested in theology for its own. sake. The author, a vetera'n professor of dogmatic theology /it Heythrop College,. England, has made every effort to be scientific ~iithout being 242 July, 1957 BOOK REVIEWS too technical for the non-theologian. He has spared no pains to facilitate the work of the reader. A detailed table of contents is presented at the outset; the volume is equipped with an impressive index in which each entry carries a symbol to signify the type of reference made; there is a thirty-page bibliography of general titles and of titles, pertinent .to each of the six general sections of the book. These general sections are entitled: The Sacraments and Grace; The Sacraments and the Character; Sacramental Causality; The Institution of the Sacraments; The Sacramental Economy. The sections are further divided into chapters, and the substance of most chapters is presented in a ~oncise "Principle" which summarizes the doctrine defended. These principles are stated and 'defended as regards the sacraments in general, Above all, Father Leeming's treatment is distinguished by its clarity; that is, matters of faith upon.which there can be no possibility of debate are cldarly stated and clearly differentiated from matters in which free discussion is allowed, and the vie.wpoints which Father Leeming defends as more p_robable are presented with notification of the precise value of the opinion proposed. Father Leeming's method is traditional, yet modern. He at-tempts to combine the scholastic method (sketching the whole history of thd question and the various opinions proposed, presenting the declarations of the .Church, stating a thesis and advancing reasons for it, and answering objections) with a modern, critico-historical ap-proach. The treatment is therefore complete; that is~ the author attempts to treat all pertinent questions, and to present all pertinent evidence --from scriptural and patristic sources, from the councils of the Church, and from the writings of orthodox and" heterodox scholars, andient and modern--in full translation, critically presented and care-fully annotated. The exhaustive historical analyses do not leave the impression that the book ig merely reportorial. Though the research is encyclo-pedic and ~scholarly; the author's oi'iginal handling of the anaterial is equally appealing. Father Leeming is of. the opinion that the key to the meaning of the sacraments is found in their connection with the Mystical Body of Christ; and in the section dealing with sacra-mental causality, he develops the :notion that "the effect of the sacraments . . . is to make those, who through them communicate 243 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious with Christ, special cells in the organism of His body." In developing this statement, he suggests a reformulation of the definition of a sacra-ment: "an effective sign of a particular form of union ~vith the Mystical Body, the Church, instituted by Jesus Chiist, which gives grace t'o those who receive it rightly." This viewpoint is also the key to the unity of the book itself, for it is applied to each of the sacraments, it is developed in the areas in which theological discussion is permitted, and it pervades the interpretation of the official sacramental doctrines of the Church. --JAMES J. DAGENAIs,°S.J. THE MASS IN TRANSITION. By Gerald Ellard, S.J. Pp. 387. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee 1, Wisconsin. 1956. $6.00. The value of this book is that it is not limited to a presentation of the author's personal views on liturgical reform. Because of its liberal use of official and semi-official documents bearing on liturgical modifications, Father Ellard's present contribution is dispassionfite and to a high degree objective. As a result, one reads with a sense of security that more rhetorical but less solid works on the subject fail to convey. This is not to say that Father Ellard frowns on liturgical reform or that he is indifferent to it. His stated purpos~e in taking what must have been considerable pains to assemble selections from the two hundred or so documents upon which his observations are based is to advance "toward maturity and toward clarity" current ideas on the modification of the Mass. The theme that runs through mist of the book is taken from the ll.ledialor Dei of Pope Pius XII: that the worship of the Eucharist should be the fountain-head of genuine Christian devotion. The various chapters are concerned with the aspects of liturgical modifica-tion that tend to promote this goal. With a short history of de-velopment in the Mass from apostolic times as a background, the succeeding chapters discuss the efforts made, the results achieved, and the difficulties encountered by the Holy See and by lesser interested groups in promoting lay participation in the Eucharistic Sacrifice. chapter each is devoted to the reform of the Breviary and to the recent tendency of many non-Catholic sects to ~lpproach closer to the Catholic form of worship. 244 July, 1957 BOOK REVIEWS While the extensive use 0f documents does not always make for easy .reading, their very bulk and wide range produce an effect that more than justifies the reader's efforts. Through them one experi-ences the tremendous energy which in the past fifty years has set the liturgical reform in motion; and he is assured that this energy and determination, especially as found in the Holy See and the hierarchy, will succeed in fully restoring the Mass to the people in spite of all the difficulties involved. For the reader with a more professional interest in the liturgy Father Ellard's book gathers into one place a rich collection of up-to-date source material. --PAUL F. CONEY, THE SALVATION OF THE UNBELIEVER." By Riccardo Lombardi, S.J. Translated by Dorothy M. White. Pp. 376. The Newman Press, Westminster, Maryland. 1956. $5.00. Father Lombardi's crusading zeal for "a better world" in accord-ance with the social teachings of the papal encyclicals has occasioned much favorable comment in the Catholic press as well as in non- Catholic news journals like Time magazine. His work as professor of ~heology deserves equally favorable comment, and the proof of this is this volume. The book ig written' for all who are Catholic eno~agh to realize that being Catholic means being apostolic and who are educated enough to follow a skillful teacher through 362 pages of reasoning that is pleasingly adorned with quotations from Scrip-ture, St. Thomas Aquinas, Dante, and papal encyclicals. Specifically, this important volume is for high school or higher units of the Catho-lic Students' Mission Crusade, missionary congregations of religious, and for all Catholics who work or pray especially for our non-Catholic contemporaries, the seventeen million Jews, three hundred and twenty million heretics and schismatics, eleven hundred millior~ heathen or unbelievers in the Judaeo-Christian revelation. Father Lombardi studies honestfy and feelingly and with great charity the chances for salvation for this vast multitude as well for the about fifty billion (Ct6ca~/o Tribune, Nov. 25, 1955) human beings who have so far been inhabitants of this earth. On the one hand, by far the majority of this enormous number are not counted in the "little flock" of Christ. On the other hand are the clear words of Holy Scripture, "God our Savior . . . wishes all men to be saved" (I Tim. 2:3, 4). "But my just one lives by faith" (Heb. 10:38). "Without faith it is. impossible to please God. For. he who comes to God must believe thht God exists and is rewarder to those who 245 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religio'us seek him" (Heb. 11:6). Father Lombardi's study of the problem presented to us by these words and by the all but infinite multitude of unbelievers is consoling to our hope, convincing to our reason, arousing to our zeal. The volume would have profitted by a study of Hinduism in at least as much detail as the author gives to the three other very widespread but very much less intellectually organi~zed non-Christian religions which he studies specifically, Confucianism, BuddhiSm,' Islam~ Hinduism's pre-Homeric Vedas and pre-Socratic Upanishads are re-markable (and vastly voluminousI records of the anitna humana naturaliter Ghristiana.in its quest for God.' The prayer of the: Brihad Aranyaka Upanishad (1, 3, 28), '.'From untruth lead me to truth, from darkness lead me'to light, from death lead me to immortali:y!" is perhaps the greatest prayer outside.the sacred world of the Judaeo- Christian revelation, yet so "naturally Christian" is~ the prayer that it might well have been written by Cardinal Newman in his Anglican d.ays as a note to his Anglican hymn "Le.ad, Kindly Light!" If Father Lombardi issues a ndw edition of his volume, the writings which B.dlgi~n Jesuit scholar missioharies Johanns a~nd Dandoy have published on Hinduism can help l~im show his readers still more reason for l~ope .and for zeal than even this admirable edition does. ---' PAUL DENT, S.J. BOOK ANNOUNCE~AENTS THE BRUCE PUBLISHING CO., 400 N. Broadway, Milwaukee 1, Wiscoiisin. Mother of Fair Love. By Augustine Schroe~ler. Translated by Veronica Kir~land. The medium that the author of this latest life of the Blessed Virgin has chosen ~is the psychological novel. It is a happy choice for it enables her to paint a very vivid picture of our Lady. The book is carefully written anduses tO the full all that scholarship' in various fields has to offer one who would .paint a true-to-life poi'trait of God's most favored creature. Pp. 195. $3.50. An Introduction to' Philosophy. By Daniel J. Suliivan.To master the fundamentals of any subject is usually quite difficult. This is especially true of philosophy and particularly so for those who 246 July, 1957 "~OOK ANNOUNCEMENTS have no scientific background. This book was written with such im dividuals in mind. You will find in it a history of philosophy and a clear exposition of the problems that philosophy labors to solve. The book was the March selection of the Thomas More Book Club. Pp. 288. $3.75. The Catholic Priest in the Modern World, by James A. M~gner, is a very careful analysis of the many problems which 'the priest, and particularly the pastor of a parish, must solve. Pastors, ctirates, and seminarians who read the book will find th;~ time spent on it well spent. There is an adequate index. Pp. 286~ $4.75. Ho!y Week Manual for Servers. By Revo Waiter J. Schmitz, S,S. A copy of this book in the hands of each server should do much to add to the dignity and smooth performance of the compli, cared Holy Week services. Pp. 60. $0.50. Fundamental Marriage Counseling. A Catholic Viewpoint. By John R. Cavanagh, M.D. This is a very complete book on all aspects of marriage counseling and the many problems the counselor has to solve. There are 531 'pages of text, a bibliography of 31 pages, an 8 page glossaryl and a 25 page index. $&00. FIDES PUBLISHERS, 7~44 E. 79th St., Chicago 19, ~llinois. In Father of the Family, by Eugene S. Geissler, we have a con-tribution to sociology. The author, himself the father of ten, writes about the family from the father's point of view interestingly and seriously. The book is recommended ~eading for fathers and mothers of families both actual and prospective. Pp. 157. $2.95. FORDHAM UNIVERSITY PRESS, New York 58, New York. ; Spiritual and Intellectual Elements in the Formation of Sistei~s. Edited by Sister Ritamary, C.H.M. This is the second volume which has grown out of the six regional meetings of the Sister Formation Conference, 1955-56, The first volume bore the" title-The Mind of the Church in the Formation of Sisters and was reviewed in these pages in September, 1956 (pp. 273-74). Part I of the present volume deals with the viewpoin~ of keynote speakers and priest panelists 6n tl'ie spiritual and intellectual elements in the formationof sisters; Part II considers the viewpoint of religious sisters themselves; Part III summarizes replies and comments to questionnaires, while Part.IV deals with communications and commentaries. The reader is im-pressed by the energy and zeal with which the sisters themselves have 247 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religious attacked their problems¯ Such zeal and energy cannot but lead to a happy solution. Pp. 261. $3.00. GRAIL PUBLICATIONS, St. Meinrad, Indiana. Pope Pius XII and Theological Studies. Edited by A. Yzermans. In addition to the encyclical letter //umani Generis, there are five addresses of the reigning Holy Father and an introductory essay on "Pius XII and TheologiCal Novelty" by the editor. Pp. 100. $0.50. THE NEWMAN PRESS, Westminister, Maryland. Methods of Mental Prayer. By Cardinal Lercaro. Translated by T. F. Lindsay. As the title indicates, this book is concerned exclusively with methods of mental prayer. It presents all of the better-known methods and does so objectively. The important thing in mental prayer is, of course, prayer; the method is secondary, yet still important. For if a method does not help you to pray, that method is not for you. You should choose another. With the aid of this .book the choice of a different method becomes easy since so many are listed and described in detail. The book, however, is not recommended for indiscriminate reading by novices, who might easily become confused and overwhelmed by the wealth of material offered. It should prove very helpful to the mature religious and to priests. Pp. 308. $5.75. The Gospel to Every Creature. By Bishop Leon-Joseph Suenens. Translated by' Louise Gavan Duffy. Catholics admire the missionary spirit which sends individuals to the ends of the earth to save souls. Many of them, however, do not realize that they too must be mis-sionaries even though they cannot travel to fields afar;~ tha't they too must labor to bring others to their true home in the Catholic Church. You will find a complete discussion of the missionary vocation as it applies to every individual in the pages of this book. Pp. 163. $3.00. The Angels and Their Mission According to the Fathers of tl~e Church. By Jean Danielou, S.J. Translated by. David Heimann. Devotion to the angels is traditional for Catholics, and for the ma-jority a reality, at least so we hope. It would help if Catholics were reminded more frequently of the role angels play in their lives. They are not so reminded by the books in English that they read. I know oi: only one, and that one was published more than thirty years ago. So the present volume is surely timely and will help to fill a great need. Pp, 118. $2.75. 248 July, 1957 BOOK ANNOUI~CEMENTS Christ, Our Lady and the Church. A Study in Eirenic Theology. By Yves M-J. Congar, O.P. Translated by Henry St. John, O.P. Eirenic theology may be described as that branch of. theology which endeavors to bring back to the unity of one faith our Protestant neighbors. It does so by finding the common ground we share with them, ana!ysing the divergences, and pointing out errors and mis-placed emphasis wherever it may exist. Since the greatest divergence between our Protestant brethren and the Church concerns precisely the Catholic doctrine on the nature of the Church and the place of our Lady in it, this book deals with these topics. Pp. 103. $2.75. Problems in Theology. Vol. I. The Sacraments. By John McCarthy, D.D., D.C.L. This book is a compilation of material that appeared in the section "Notes and Queries" of The Irish Ecclesiastical Record during the past fifteen years. The author and publishers promise a second volume to deal with principles and precepts. There is no index. Pp. 433. $6.75. Problems in Canon Law. By William Conway, D.D., D.C.L. In this volume Father Conway, who has long answered the canonical difficulties of the readers of 7'he Irish Ecclesiastical Record, has col-lected and classified a great many of the practical problems he has received. The publishers announce that this is the first volume of a new series on practical problems in theology and canon law. There is an eight page index. Pp. 345. $5.50. REVIEWOF CATHOLIC CHURCH MUSIC The appearance of a new Catholic periodical is always noteworthy, especially of one devoted to music. The Caecilia appearing in Feb-ruary, 1957, is marked "Volume 85, Number 1"; 13ut it is the first issue of the venerable magazine under the new management of the Society of St. Caecilia, recently revitalized through the efforts of Reverend Francis Schmitt. Father Schmitt has achieved a noteworthy place in the ranks of American Catholic church musicians through his inspiring work with the Boystown choir, with his annual choirmasters' workshop, and now, with the restoration of the Caecilian Society. The "new" Caecilia appears as a quartqrly review devoted to the liturgical music apostolate. Besides editor Schmitt and "editor emeri-tus" Dom Ermin Vitry, O.S.B., the con.tr~butmg editors include: Theodore Marier, Reverend Richard Schule~, James Welch, Reverend Francis Brunner, C.Ss.R., Paul Koch, and R~verend Francis Guentner, S.J. Under such management the journal gives promise of outspoken but scholarly criticism as well as appreciation of current efforts in liturgical music. The address is: Box 1012, Omaha I, Nebraska. 249 Ques!:ions and Answers [The following answers are given by Father Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., professor of canon law. at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland.] --19-- What bows does the priest make at Benediction of the Moit Blessed Sacrament? The priest makes a moderate.bow of the body before rising to put in incense(S. R. C., 4179, 6) and at Veneremur cern'ui and a pro-found bow of the head immediately before and after incensing (S. R. C., 3086, 3) and at Oremus. A moderate bow of the body is a bow of the head accompanied by a slight inclination of the shoulders (S. R. C., 4179, 1). A profound bow of the body is never made while kneel-ing. Cf. J. O'Connell, Benedictionale, 4-5; The Celebration' of Ma~s, 298; De Amicis, Caeremoniale Parochorum, 79-80. 20 Has a religious who has been excluded from renovation of tem-porary vows or from making perpetual profession the right of sus-pensive recourse to the Holy See against the exclusion? No. The contrary impression arises from a confusion of exclia-sion with dismissal. The two are not the same. A dismissal in canon law is verified only by an expulsion during the time of the vows; an exclusion is an expulsion at the expiration of the vows. It is also merely the refusal of admission to a further profession. Therefore, the canonical prescriptions on dismissal do n

Issue 54.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1995. ; Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ° ~,~ashington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1995 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any ,naterial (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 Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read Joann Wolski Conn PhD Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez sJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY-FEBRUARYI995-* VOLUME54 * NUMBER 1 contents 22 faith and culture U.S. Culture and Contemporary Spirituality William A. Barry SJ proposes that a spirituality, lived out vibrantly, is our way to God and our way to let God break through the encrustations of cultural conditioning. Back to the Future: Franciscan Literary Tradition, Virtual Reality, and Infomania Timothy J. Johnson OFM Cony draws attention to the twin challenges virtual reality and infomania pose to the appropriation of heritage texts for religious candidates. 41 48 pioneering the future Beyond Ecumenism: Religious as Pioneers Ruth Fox OSB gives examples of what it means to move from events to processes for our ecumenical effort. Dynamic Memory's Role in Reimaging the Future Shaun McCarty ST describes the role of dynamic memory in bonding community and discerning the future. 59 seeking formation directions Reflections on the Lay Spiritan Program in Canada Michael Doyle CSSp presents a picture of the successes and difficulties that are part of a contemporary development of the Lay Spiritan program. 73 Cross-Cultural Issues in Vocation and Formation Ministry Dennis Newton SVD and Ed PeHo SVD share the challenges and questions of cross-cultural formation. 81 The Ministry Spiral James H. Kroeger MM presents core el~ments of the contemporary call to Christian ministry. 2 Review for Religious 89 IOO learning the tradition The Desert and the Cell Kenneth C. Russell explores the significance of the desert and the cell for the men and women solitaries in the third and fourth centuries. Clare of Assisi: Her Leadership Role Marie Beha OSC explores the example and understanding of leadership which Clare of Assisi provides by her life and in her writings. 113 131 coping in crises Where Is God in Our Suffering? Richard J. Hauser SJ highlights the two religious contexts for coping with suffering: the meaning context and the support context. The Midlife Crisis: God's Second Call Robert S. Stoudt explores the meaning of religious call at two special moments in life--adolescence and midlife. departments 4 Prisms 143 Canonical Counsel: Directives on Religious Formation: Potissimum Institutioni 149 Book Reviews Janttary-Febrtutry 199Y 3 prisms No sooner had the relatively unevent-ful synod on consecrated life ended than Pope John Paul II published the most extraordinary apostolic letter of his pon-tificate. The letter, Tertio millennio adveniente (As the Third Millennium Draws Near), was officially released on 14 November 1994. It sets forth an agenda to be implemented from the time of its publication until the actual celebration of the Great Jubilee of the year 2000. The letter is addressed to bishops, priests and deacons, men and women religious, and all the loy faithful. Pope John Paul confesses that preparing for the year 2000 has become a hermeneutical key of his pontificate and that the time leading up to the jubilee year is to be lived as "a new Advent." He points out how this theme, found in his first encyclical Redemptorhominis (1979), is developed at length in Dominum et vivificantem (1986) and has continued to mark his addresses and other writings. Although the pope reviews significant 20th-century events of both world and church history, he centers on Vatican Council II as directing us towards this celebration. He now challenges all Catholics to a more immediate preparation. He identifies two phases: (1) an ante-preparatory time (1994-1996) dedicated to reviv-ing in Christian people an awareness of the joyful meaning of the Great Jubilee in human history, with its call to con-version and reconciliation as we commemorate the birth of Christ, and (2) a more focused preparatory time (1997- 1999)--with the year 1997 devoted to reflection on Christ, savior and proclaimer of the gospel, the year 1998 bringing attention to the Holy Spirit's sanctifying presence within the community of Christ's disciples, and the year 1999 given 4 R~viewfor Religious to believers helping one another to see things in the perspective of Christ as with him they journey to the Father. Although the prepa-rations are described with broad strokes in this letter, John Paul indicates certain concrete steps to be taken during each stage and promises to call for widespread consultation regarding plans for spe-cific events. The juxtaposition of the synod on religious life in October 1994 and the release of this apostolic letter in November 1994 is not hap-penstance. No one will deny that there is a certain obscure light around the phenomenon of consecrated life in the Vatican II church. The synod, with its ten thousand speeches coming from places where Christ actively continues to play, reflected the obscure light in which religious live and work. But on the very heels of the completion of this synod comes an agenda for the church of the third millennium. Religious congregations should take note. They mal(e a positive choice, I believe, for their own futures in proportion to their enter-ing into the church agenda outlined in this letter. John Paul challenges all church members. Religious, "at the ser-vice of the church," need to respond with all the prayer and zeal their proper charismatic identity supplies. There is no place for a wimpy or weaseling response that would look first at how the lim-ited particularity of "our congregational or province plan" fits some-how into the pope's challenges. Rather, religious need to give the church agenda a chance to inspire, shape, change, and give new direction to community life and apostolic endeavors. Religious life receives a vital challenge for the future millennium in Tertio millen-nio adveniente. As we enter into 1995, Review for Religious welcomes two new members to the advisory board. Father Joel Rippinger OSB, a writer and currently chair of the American Benedictine Academy, is a monk of Marmion Abbey in Aurora, Illinois. Sister Patricia Wittberg SC, associate professor in the Department of Sbciology at Indiana University (Indianapolis), just recently published The Rise and Decline of Catholic Religious Orders (Albany: SUNY; cloth $59.95, paper $19.95). At the same time we say a grateful farewell.to Sister Suzanne Zuercher OSB and wish her well with her new responsibilities as president of Saint Scholastica High School in Chicago, Illinois. As we noted in our last issue, Sister.Mary Margaret Johanning SSND died from cancer in October 1994; we miss her but also know her continuing support. David L. Fleming SJ aTanuary-February 1995 5 faith and culture WILLIAM A. BARRY U.S. Culture and Contemporary Spirituality In recent years I have grown in the conviction that I do not best understand myself as a believer who tries to love and engage his culture. The wiser ques-tion asks: Since it is a given that I am shaped by my culture, what do I need to help me to become a believer? I never possess faith as some fully formed object that I then bring to my culture. In faith I live a lifelong conversion of the culture I carry within me. I am, in short, a late-twentieth-century capi-talist; along with most of the readers of this essay, I carry the inclinations, the burdens, the nobilities, and the violences of capitalist culture deeply etched in the core of my being. My situation is no worse, surely, than that of citizens of other cultures. But no better either. Culture lies too deeply embedded in human beings to ever become completely baptized, and the life of faith in every era takes the form of a holy tension between primordial cultural ten-dencies and God's endlessly affectionate challenge to learn to live faithfully.~ With this sharp commentary John Staudenmaier cuts to the heart of the issue of culture and spirituality. There is no spirituality that is not imbedded in a culture. If a William A. Barry SJ, well-known author and currently provin-cial of the Jesuits of New England province, gave this presenta-tion to the Augi~st 1994 national assembly of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men (CMSM) in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. His address is P.O. Box 799, Back Bay Annex; Boston, Massachusetts 02117-0799. 6 Review for Religious spirituality wants to be in contact with the living God, then those who espouse it must work hard and beg God's help to free them-selves from the cultural biases which make it almost impossible to find the real God. For Staudenmaier the issue is not so much how religion or spirituality influence culture, but rather how any of us encultured human beings can become free enough from our culture to be believers. That puts it starkly. The Meaning of Culture What do we mean by culture? Clifford Geertz defines cul-ture as "an historically transmitted pattern of meanings embod-ied in symbols, a system of inherited conceptions expressed in symbolic forms by means of which men communicate, perpetuate, and develop their knowledge about and attitudes toward life."2 Culture in this sense, then, is the way a particular group of peo-ple makes sense of its world. Culture is imbibed with mother's milk and inculcated in every member of the group by formal and informal education and formation, and increasingly, by the mass media. One can see why Staudenmaier says of himself: "I am a late-twentieth-century capitalist." Of course, he could have added many more identities, such as "I am a late-twentieth-century American Roman Catholic," "American Jesuit priest," "academi-cian," and so forth. Given his age, he could also have said of him-self "Roman Catholic formed by pre-Vatican II culture and reformed, insofar as this is possible, by post-Vatican II culture." For the most part, the influence of culture on us escapes our consciousness. We have so imbibed our culture or cultures that we are unaware of how it conditions our behavior. Let me give an example. A few years ago I spent three weeks in Ireland where I did a lot of walking. Every time I had to cross a street I looked left first, and started across if I saw no traffic; only then would I look right to see if there were traffic coming the other way. In the United States this ingrained way of proceeding is not only second nature, but also self-protective. In Ireland it was downright dan-gerous because the pattern of traffic is just the opposite. So I learned that I was unconsciously conditioned to a traffic pattern by growing up in the United States. Moreover, when I drove a car in Ireland and in Jamaica, I periodically experienced anxiety when I instinctively felt that I was on the wrong side of the road. Attempts to change the unconscious way we do things lead to .~anuary-February 199~ 7 Barry * U.S. Culture and Contemporary Spirituality anxiety. Years ago Bill Callahan argued that we are cultural addicts who find it uncomfortable to try to overcome our cultural addic-tion) Remember that culture influences our image of God. One way for us to discover some of the unconscious ways our culture works on us is to live for a time in another culture. I believe that this is one of the best reasons for having part of one's formation as a religious in another culture. When they give them-selves to the process, young religious who live and work in a for-eign culture, especially a Third World culture, find themselves facing in a new way their alleged trust in God. Another way is to ask for honest feedback from our brothers and sisters from another culture about their experience of living in one of our communi-ties. We would probably be surprised at what we might hear and thus learn how our culture unconsciously conditions how we live, how we pray, and how we worship. The Meaning of Spirituality What about "spirituality"? Philip Sheldrake trenchantly notes that spirituality "is one of those subjects whose meaning everyone claims to know until they have to define it.''4 He then gives one of the best definitions of the term that I have found: "I would suggest that what the word spirituality seeks to express is the con-scious human response to God that is both personal and ecclesial. In short, 'life in the Spirit'" (p. 37). He also says of Christian spirituality: Spirituality is understood to include not merely the tech-niques of prayer but, more broadly, a conscious relation-ship with God, in Jesus Christ, through the indwelling of the Spirit and in the context of the community of believers. Spirituality is, therefore, concerned with the conjunction of theology, prayer and practical Christianity (p. 52). A spirituality is, first of all, the enactment of one's religion by a group and only secondarily a reflected upon and system-atized set of characteristics of that particular enactment. Since spirituality in this sense develops in historical people and not in the abstract, there are multiple spiritualities. For exam-ple, we speak of Benedictine, Franciscan, or Dominican spiritu-ality; of nineteenth-century French or fifteenth-century Flemish spirituality. As soon as we speak in this fashion of different spir-itualities, we realize that a spirituality is enculturated. As Sheldrake 8 Review for Religious says, ". part of the contemporary problem with defining spiri-tuality is associated with the fact that it is not a single, transcul-rural phenomenon but is rooted within the lived experience of God's presence in history--and a history which is always specific" (p. 3 3). Indeed, just as culture is carried by a living tradition, so too is a particular spirituality. I would argue that a particular spirituality is part of a culture. As I noted earlier, not only is John Staudenmaier a late-twen-tieth- century capitalist, he is also a late-twentieth-century U.S. Jesuit priest. Part of his encultured personality is rooted in the spirituality founded by Ignatius of Loyola and formed and deformed by four hundred years of history, including two hundred years of history in the United States. Putting things in this way makes for at least one interesting paradox: One of the hindrances to belief in God could be the spirituality we have imbibed. Spirituality, even though culturally influenced, has a built-in safeguard against encrustation by a culture; any spirituality defined as I have suggested posits the active presence of God in human affairs. Stephen Carter, in The Culture of Disbelief, makes this point with regard to religion: "Although many thoughtful sociologists and historians have defined religion in other ways, the belief in supernatural intervention in human affairs is a useful divider for our present purposes, because that is where the culture seems to draw the line between that which is suspect and that which is not.''5 Whereas, as Carter makes plain, our political and legal culture considers belief in divine intervention "a kind of mystical irrationality" (p. 7), any spirituality worth its salt banks on such intervention. Such a spirituality expects that God is actively pur-suing the divine intention iia the one action which is the universe. God is, therefore, continually trying to break through the encrus-tation of any specific culture to reveal God's own reality and desire. The trick is to develop ways of noticing God's interven-tions, ways of letting the crust of culture be dented enough so that we pay attention. God is continually trying to break through the encrustation of any specific culture to reveal God's own reality and desire. January-February 199~ 9 Barry ¯ U.S. Culture and Contemporary Spirituality Any specific spirituality derives from an experience or series of experiences of God that a group has. Any such experience is never, of course, a pure experience of God. Any human experience is multidimensional, the product of an encounter between some-thing and a person with a psychological, social, and cultural his-tory. Benedictine spirituality with its vow of stability was the product of an encounter between God and Benedict and his fol-lowers who grew up at the time of the breakup of the Roman Empire when stable institutions were few and far between. Recent work on Ignatian spirituality has shown how it is the product of the encounter with God of a late medieval wounded warrior whose mother died when he was an infant.6 The point is that any spiri-tuality is the product of an encounter with God of a group of human beings with a particular history that includes, among oth-ers, psychological, social, and cultural influences. An American Spirituality? Joseph Tetlow argues quite cogently that over the past two-hundred years Catholics in the United States have had a unique experience of God and have, therefore, developed a distinctive American spirituality.7 He believes that our contribution to the church may be the very spirituality that has developed on these shores; indeed, American Catholicism with its distinct spiritual-ity may be the bridge between a European church and a worldwide church. We have not yet fully delineated what that spirituality is, he notes, but it is important to do so since the discovery will help us to understand American Catholic identity and to clarify how the American church ends the European captivity of the Roman Catholic church. Tetlow himself has attempted to delineate some characteris-tics of an American Catholic spirituality. First, it is pluralistic, not only because different ethnic strains and religious traditions have gone into its makeup, but also because it developed in and adapted to a predominantly Protestant culture. Second, it is ahis-torical for the most part; like our fellow citizens we Catholics do not look to history for instruction. Third, it is democratized in the sense that American Catholics feel that everyone has equal access to God and to holiness. In our day, for instance, anyone, not just a priest or religious or an upper-class lady, can have a spiritual director. As Tetlow says, "American Catholics are not impressed 10 Review for Religious by the thought that spiritual gifts are spread around about as unevenly as IQ, health, and length of life" (p. 34). Another instance is the way American Catholics have decided issues of morality, especially birth control, on the basis of their own expe-rience and have not felt the less Catholic for it. Fourth, it is func-tional in the sense that it deals not so much with truth claims, but with meaning and meaningfulness; American Catholics tend to look for "theological wis-dom in the meaning of con-crete experience" (pp. 34-35). For American Catholics experience is a sound theo-logical source. Tetlow cites the way John Courtney Murray found Catholic truth in the meaning of American democracy. To show the dif-ference between a European spirituality and ours in this regard Tetlow notes that at about the same time that Hans Kung published his hugely successful Does God Exist? Donald Gelpi pub-lished Experiencing God. Fifth, it is experimental in the sense that we have imbibed the definition of belief of American philoso-phers, namely that "belief is the willingness to accept the practical consequences of what we claim is true. We tend to think that we either do the truth or the truth does not exist."8 Hence, for example, we are willing to try out all kinds of prayer forms to see which ones help us, and religious congregations try out var-ious forms of government to see which ones work. Sixth, Americans have developed a spirituality of plural loyalties; an example is the fact that we have grown up in a church where both the American flag and the papal flag stood in our sanctuaries. "I believe that we will find at the core of American Catholic spiri-tuality a complex but quite tenacious loyalty.''9 A vibrant, self-confident yet critically astute sense of how American Dominicans, for example, have lived out the spirituality inherited from St. Dominic and his European followers could have great benefits for the whole order, especially for the Dominicans in developing countries. ffanuary-February 1995 11 Barry ¯ U.S. Culture and Contemporary Spirituality With this sketch of some characteristics of an American Catholic spirituality we already see how our culture has affected our spirituality, with both good and bad effects. Each religious congregation has to do its own reflection on how American cul-ture has affected it for good and for ill and how its distinctive spirituality is lived out in this country. I believe that it would be healthy for each of us to do so to gain some self-confidence in the distinctive cast the living out of a particular charism has taken on in the United States. A vibrant, self-confident yet critically astute sense of how American Dominicans, for example, have lived out the spirituality inherited from St. Dominic and his European followers could have great benefits for the whole order, especially for the Dominicans in developing countries. The task lies before each of our congregations. Individualism Some elements of our U.S. culture have impacted on our spir-ituality. One element has been apparent at least since the time of de Toqueville, namely an emphasis on the individual. Bellah and associates in both Habits of the Heart and The Good Society have documented quite well that our culture is dominated by this cult of the individual. We operate on the assumption that the indi-vidual is prior to and takes precedence over the community. The individual is considered to be rational and autonomous in his or her dealings with other individuals, and the individual's goal in life is to maximize self-interest; the acquisition of private property is, in principle, unlimited. But a group of self-interest maximiz-ers will inevitably come into conflict with one another over prop-erty and goods. To avoid conflict social contract is necessary to protect private property. This leads to market economy which eventually tends to take over all our institutions. In politics we now have no civic culture, but a claimant culture with the politi-cian as manager; we continually hear of "rights," but rarely of our "civic duties" to one another. We sue at the drop of a hat. Even marriage has come to be looked upon as a limited contract for the benefit of the two individuals leading to an adult-centered rather than a child-centered family. Education more and more has taken on a market character where the question is what the students want. A liberal education for its own sake is increasingly difficult to find and to sell to people who look on education as a 12 Review for Religious way to get ahead. Even religious institutions have taken on some of the aspects of the market culture; people ask, "What is in this church for me?" The authors of The Good Society note that a Lutheran church in California has a money-back guarantee: Donate for ninety days and if, in that time, you do not get what you have asked for, you get your money back (pp. 93-94). In an insightful talk to a convention of spiritual directors Robert J. Egan SJ noted that one of the roots of this rampant sec-ularized individualism may well be the religious individualism of our Catholic spiritual tradition with its emphasis on the renun-ciation of the world and of family life and the embrace of poverty, celibacy, solitude, silence, and so forth. The outcome of such a spirituality is a radical spiritual individualism.~° In this analysis the lonely ascetic fighting his battle with Satan is the spiritual precursor of the model American hero, the Lone Ranger. Many of us were brought up in the spiritual tradition of renunciation, something which puts us doubly at risk to be infected with indi-vidualism. Effects of Individualism on Religious What are some of the effects of our culture's cult of the indi-vidual on us? First, let us be grateful for the positive effects. Our culture teaches us to prize the individual and his or her gifts. In our religious lives such a prizing is a healthy corrective to the "long black line" mentality that prevailed among us and led to the use of individuals as mere cogs in the machine. Obedience without consultation of the individual's own desires and dreams has happily gone the way of the dodo. We Jesuits, for example, have recovered the tradition of Ignatius which expected that the dreams and desires of good Jesuits might well be a clue to dis-cerning God's will. I believe that our culture helped us to that recovery of the tradition. But we must not overlook the dangers in the kind of radical individualism rampant in American culture. For example, do we use the yardstick of salary to measure our own or another's worth? Do we also measure the quality of our life by the amenities available, the kind of car at our disposal, the vacations we can take? Is the difficulty we have in taking a serious look at what a simple lifestyle might mean at least partly the result of our cultural addiction? One of the results of the cult of the individual in the United ~Tan~,ary-Febr~tary 1995 13 Barry ¯ U.S. Culture and Contemporary Spirituality States is the loss of a sense of community, a point made strongly in the two books by Bellah and his associates. The demands of community, especially an inclusive community, impinge on the freedom of the individual. Has this virus affected us? I have noticed a tendency for religious to criticize community life, but not to ask what they are contributing to it. "This community does not meet my needs" is a common enough complaint. But rarely do such complainers say, "What can I do to make this community a better place for all of us, or at least for those of us who want a more meaningful religious community?" The cultural climate which puts the individual before the community makes it difficult for us Americans to see ourselves as having embraced a community of brothers or sisters for the quality of whose religious life each one of us is responsible. Yet God, the perfect community of three Persons, creates this universe not for individual fulfillment alone but so that all people might be enticed into the community of the Trinity. In fact, I cannot achieve fulfillment without other people. One of the desperate needs of our country is the example of vibrant community life. All of us need to work hard against the virus of individual-ism which destroys community. The efforts many religious have made in recent years to share their faith journeys and their expe-riences of the apostolate with one another and with their lay col-leagues run counter to the culture of individualism. Such sharing of experience is one of the characteristics of American spiritual-ity. We find that ideology and abstract theologizing divide people, whereas the sharing of experience brings people together and thus helps to overcome the virus of individualism. Narcissistic Personality Type Robert Egan makes a trenchant comment about the type of personality that results from contemporary American individu-alism, namely the narcissistic type. It is noteworthy that recently psychiatrists and psychologists have written more and more about this personality type, different from the neurotic type seen in European culture earlier in this century by Freud and his associ-ates. Without even knowing it, narcissistic persons tend to think first of all: "What's in it for me?" The male version is dubbed the "Eternal Boy." One of the characteristics is a great difficulty in making lasting commitments. Another is suspicion of institutions 14 Review for Religious and authority because they can get in the way of my rights, my needs, my desires. Have we been infected by this narcissistic tendency? I think that I perceive some disturbing trends in myself, in some of my brother Jesuits and in other religious. VChen we are asked to con-sider an assignment, are these the first questions that pop into our minds, "But what will happen to me ifI take that job? . Will I be able to keep my car? . Will I be happy there, the way I'm happy here? . What's the TV reception like there?" Just recentl~ tears of gratitude and admiration came to my eyes when I said to a Jesuit who had been approached to take on a new assignment, "I want you to give that serious consideration." His immediate response was: "If you want me to go, I am on my way." Obviously my reaction indicates that I do not run into this attitude as often as I would like. One former provincial asked a man to take on a job for which he had the talent, but which he did not want. After a period of time to think it over, he again asked the man if he wanted to do the job. Again the man said no. The provincial then said: "I am sorry, but I need you to do it. I want you to do it." Our man said: "Fine!" The provincial then said: "There are only three men in the province who would be ready and willing to go anywhere and do anything if I should ask them to." Do we as religious tend to think first of "my rights," "my hopes," "my desires," "my comfort" when looking at apostolic opportunities? If we do, then we have been deeply infected by the individualism of our culture. Again, however, our spirituality gives us the means of coun-tering this culturally induced narcissism. Any spirituality, as we noted earlier, presupposes an encounter with God. There is noth-ing better as an antidote to narcissism than meeting the living God. Moreover, any Christian spirituality is not just about saving one's soul; eventually the saved sinner is called to discipleship with Jesus. One Protestant minister makes a wonderful statement in The Good Society: Ira person really has Jesus living in their life, and they are in a Christian fellowship growing in the Scriptures and learning what he is talking about; then eventually they are going to worry and be concerned about the homeless peo-ple, pregnant teenagers, people who are addicted, people in minorities being persecuted and denied - women, blacks, poor people in the rest of the world. If Jesus is really in their life, and they read in there that God is no respecter of January-February 199Y 15 Barry ¯ U.S. Culture and Contemporary Spirituality Religious take a vow of obedience which should lead to thinking beyond personal discernment. What is the greater good? What does the church need? What do people need? persons that Jesus died for everybody, it's going to come out socially. Saving souls is not the whole gospel. That's just getting born (pp. 201-202). Any vibrant Christian spirituality will move in this direction. Each of our spiritual traditions is aimed precisely at helping us to overcome our inordinate attachments which Gerald May calls addictions.11 These attachments include our cultural addictions. By opening ourselves to hon-esty before the Lord and with our spiritual director we can allow ourselves to be freed from these attachments. The daily examen of consciousness is another element used by many religious (or, should I say, recommended to many religious) that can lead us to the life-long conversion from cultural addiction. Falling in love with Jesus and his mis-sion is a powerful antidote to narcissism. At the same time we need to ask ourselves whether our culture's cult of the individual with its concomitant tendency toward narcissism has some-what co-opted the recovery of our spiritual traditions. Statements such as "In my retreat I discerned that I should work and live in such an apostolate" or "My spiritual director agrees with my discernment that I should study for a doctorate in Zen" are often taken as the final word in the process of discernment. Such statements may betray the unconscious cultural narcissism that we have imbibed. Religious take a vow of obedience which should lead to thinking beyond personal discernment. What is the greater good? What does the church need? What do people need? What does the province or community need? These are questions that must also enter into any discernment of spirits that merits the name Catholic. We Jesuits in preparing for our 34th General Congregation.have a chance to rediscover the necessary 16 Rwview for Religious tension between personal discernment (inherited from the Spiritual Exercises) and spiritual obedience (inherited from our Constitutions). Any authentic Roman Catholic spirituality, I believe, has this built-in, and healthy, tension between individual dis-cernment and obedience to legitimate authority.~2 Of course, authority can be abused, just as can individual discernment. That is why the tension has to be there. The Culture of Disbelief Another element in our culture is slightly different from the tack we have been on, yet moves in the same direction. The stress on the individual as rational and autonomous in his or her pursuit of self-interest with its concomitant glorification of science and technology has tended to downplay the mysterious and nonra-tional as aspects of human life to be taken seriously. In academic and political life religion is relegated to the private sphere at best. Stephen Carter speaks of the culture of disbelief in his best-sell-ing book of that title. This culture, he maintains,-presses believ-ers "to be other than themselves, to act publicly, and sometimes privately as well, as though their faith does not matter to them" (p. 3). By the use of numerous examples he shows a trend in our culture to treat religious beliefs as: arbitrary and unimportant . More and more, our cul-ture seems to take the position that believing deeply in the tenets of one's faith represents a kind of mystical irra-tionality, something that thoughtful, public-spirited American citizens would do better to avoid (pp. 6-7). As a result, many Americans split their public and private selves. What they believe about God and God's intentions for this world does not enter into the way they speak and act in pub-lic. As people of faith we believe that God is active in human affairs and that God does have an intention for our world. Yet I have the impression that we have bought into the culture of dis-belief to such an extent that we unconsciously assume that unbe-lief does not have to be defended while belief does. We do not realize that unbelievers and believers are on a level playing field insofar as justifying their divergent stances; both of us plant our feet firmly in midair and march on. Unbelief is as much an irra-tional stance as is belief; neither can be justified on purely ratio-nal grounds. .~anuary-February 1995 17 Barry ¯ U.S. Culture and Contemporary Spirituality Effects of the Culture of Disbelief on Us Insofar as we cannot speak of our experiences of God with one another, we cannot engage in any kind of communal discernment. Has this culture of disbelief infected our religious lives? Is this culture behind our seeming fear of speaking with one another about our experiences of God, for example? Are we afraid to be considered naively, pious, not with it? In my religious life I had not talked with another Jesuit about my own religious experience until we rediscovered the individu-ally directed Spiritual Exercises and a kind of spiritual direction that focused on the experience of peo-ple with God. Even with this recov-ery it is very difficult for us Jesuits to speak of our experience of God outside a retreat or session of spir-itual direction; some of us may find it easier to speak of our sexual and aggressive fantasies and feelings than about our experiences of God. Insofar as we are infected with the culture of disbelief religious cannot become a community of friends in the Lord, people who know through mutual communication the bedrock experiences that ground our life together. Moreover, insofar as we cannot speak of our experi-ences of God with one another, we cannot engage in any kind of communal discernment. Communal discernment requires that we be able to share with one another our experiences of God with the trust and hope that in that sharing we as a community will find the way that God is pointing out to us. Moreover, if we cannot share our experiences of God, can we really collaborate with one another and with our lay colleagues in a religiously convincing way? Our collaboration will be based on functional and utilitar-ian grounds, not on the ways of God. This culture of disbelief deeply affected my practice of clin-ical psychology. Even though I believed that God could be encountered in human experience, I did not expect that my clients would speak of such encounters, even when I was doing psy-chotherapy with Jesuit scholastics at Weston School of Theology. It was only when I began to give the Spiritual Exercises individ- 18 Review for Religiotts ually that I realized what I had been unconsciously doing. Even my Jesuit clientsdid not bring up religious experiences because they felt it inappropriate to do so, something I unconsciously approved. So the central reality of the lives of these young Jesuits did not fig-ure in our conversations which covered many other intimate details of their lives. Spirituality as an Antidote Our spirituality can counteract the deleterious effects of cul-ture. Any spirituality is culture bound, as we have said. Indeed, the American way of living out a particular religious spirituality has engendered suspicion in other parts of the world, especially in Europe and particularly in Rome. At the turn of the century the Spanish Jesuit General Martin removed the English provincial, believing that he and many of the English Jesuits were infected with "Americanism." 13 But any spirituality has a built-in correc-tive against the corrosive effects of culture, if the spirituality is vibrant. That built-in corrective is, of course, the fact that a spir-ituality is a way to God and a way to let God impinge on our lives. For each of us religious our spirituality, as it is lived out vibrantly in the United States, is our way to God and our way to let God break through the encrustation of cultural conditioning. To overcome the corrosive effects of American culture on our religious living and working we must recover the authentic way of our spirituality for our time and place. Each of us must engage deeply in our way to God, and then we must find ways to com-municate with other members of our congregation the experi-ence of meeting the living God in our way. But we must be clear that it will be a difficult and messy process. We are, as Callahan pointed out, culturally addicted, and attempts to overcome the addiction will produce anxiety. In addition, as Staudenmaier said, we are talking about a process of lifelong conversion to the living God. We can never completely shed the conditioning of our cul-ture. We can only try to engage the living God individually and collectively with humility and courage and, above all, with char-ity toward one another. A final note: According to Bellah and associates our culture desperately needs an antidote to its rampant individualism and narcissism. They speak of the need of communities of memory, of the replacement of the politics of f~ar with the politics of love January-February 1995 19 Barry ¯ U.S. Culture and Contemporary Spirituality (quoting Vficlev Havel), of developing the habit of paying atten-tion as an antidote to distraction. What they are speaking of could be construed as the need for a spirituality. They are not afraid to use religious language in a book devoted to a sociological analy-sis of our culture. With Reinhold Niebuhr they argue for the need of basic trust for the health of our democracy. Theologians such as Niebuhr.suggest that behind parental love, essential as that is, lies a deeper question: Is reality, is Being itself, trustworthy? To argue that trust or faith is justified, that God as the very principle of reality is good, is not obvious--not obvious to Christians and Jews, who through the centuries have been supposed to believe it, and not obvious to anyone who has to live in the world as it is. Trust or faith, like parental love, is a gift. It comes to individuals and groups in particular experiences at particular times and places. Niebuhr did not say that it comes only to Jews and Christians, or that it comes only to people who think of themselves as religious, but that to whomever it comes, it comes as a gift. And when it does come, it brings a great joy and enables us to live responsibly with our fellow beings.14 We who belong to communities of memory, which is what religious communities at their best are, have a pearl of great price to offer to our fellow citizens. We who belong to communities that foster contemplation, which is a way of paying attention to what God is doing in our world, have a pearl of great price to offer. We who have a special way to God which has been shaped by our being planted in this country, a way to let God assure us that he is trustworthy, have a pearl of great price to offer. Let us not be afraid to share it with our fellow citizens. Only God can save us all. Let us give God a chance to do it. Notes I John M. Staudenmaier SJ "To Fall in Love with the World: Individualism and Self-Transcendence in Mnerican Life," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits, 26/3: May, 1994, p. 2. z Tbe Interpretation of Czdtltres (New York: Basic Books, 1973), p. 89. In Habits of the Heart: lndividllalism and Commitment in American Life Bellah, et al. have a similar definition: "Those patterns of meaning that any group or society uses to interpret and evaluate itself and its situation. We take culture to be a constitutive dimension of all human action. It is not an epiphenomenon to be explained by economic or political factors," (New York: Perennial Library, Harper & Row, 1986), p. 333. 20 Review for Religious 3 William R. Callahan, "The Impact of Culture on Religious Values and Decision-Making," Soundings: A Task Force on Social Consciousness and Ignatian Spirituality (Washington: Center of Concern, 1974), pp. 8-12. q Philip Sheldrake, Sph'ituality and History: Questions ofl~Jterpretation andMetbod (London SPCK, 1991), p. 32. s Stephen L. Carter, The Culture of Disbelie3~ How American Law and Politics Trivialize Religious Devotion (New York: Basic Books, 1993), p. 25. ~' See William W. Meissner, Ignatius of Loyola: The Psychology of a Saint (New Haven: Yale, 1992) for the psychological dimension of Ignatius's experience and John W. O'Malley, The First Jesuits (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard, 1993) for the cultural and historical dimensions. 7 Joseph A. Tetlow, "The Emergence of an American Catholic Spirituality," Theology Digest, 40/1 (Spring, 1993), 27-36. 8Joseph A. Tetlow, "!Mnerican Catholic Spirituality," New Catholic World, 225/5 (July/August, 1982), 153. 9Tetlow, "The Emergence ." p. 35. ~0 Robert J. Egan SJ, "Contemplation in the Context of Contemporary Culture: Reflections on Spiritual Direction in Dialogue with Cultural Analysis and Criticism," talk delivered at a conference of spiritual direc-tors in February 1990 at Mercy Center, Burlingame, California. ~ Gerald G. May, Addiction and Grace (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1988). ~z See William A. Barry SJ, "Discernment and Obedience: Finding God's Will and Staying Roman Catholic," an article first published in America (164/24, 1991) and reproduced in God's Passionate Desire and Our Response (Notre Dame: Ave Maria, 1993), pp. 129-133. ~3 See David G. Schultenover, A View from Rome: On the Eve of the Modernist Crisis (New York: Fordham University Press, 1993). ~q Robert N. Bellah et al, The Good Society, (New York: Knopf, 1991), p. 284. January-Febr~ary 199 ~ 21 TIMOTHY J. JOHNSON Back to the Future: Franciscan Literary Tradition, Virtual Reality, and Infomania Z~195a3 Ray Bradbury presented a chilling vision of the future Fahrenheit 4YI.~ In this novel, books have been banned by a totalitarian regime that lives in dread of the truth. Books are set aflame by a new breed of firemen bent on eliminating any still in existence. In such a climate of fear, society as a whole no longer cultivates any sense of literary appreciation. Only a few individ-uals still stubbornly believe in the significance of the great works of literature. Bradbury ends his numbing glimpse into the future on a hopeful note by describing a community of men and women who commit themselves to the preservation of their literary cul-ture by memorizing important books. Each person metaphori-cally becomes a living book. While we do not have to fear a future as grim as that of Fahrenheit 4Yl, we may witness the demise of our literary sensi-tivity, at least in some sectors of our culture, through the lack of education and widespread indifference. While society can take concrete steps to improve the quality of education, it cannot implement measures to force people to develop an interest in lit-erature. In the dawning age of what is termed virtual reality and infomania, books as we know them may become nothing more than boring, irrelevant relics of an earlier age. This article exam- Timothy J. Johnson OFM Conv is the director of formation at Saint Bonaventure Friary in Washington, D.C. An earlier version of this arti-cle appeared in Miscellanea Francescana 94 (1994): 3-19. His address is Saint Bonaventure Friary; 3514 Fifteenth Street N.E.; ~AZashington, D.C. 20017. 22 Review for Religious ines the question of literature, contemporary American culture, and the formation of members of religious communities such as the Franciscans in their respective literary traditions. It describes the nature of virtual reality technologies and infomania and delin-eates the challenges these cultural phenomena pose to those reli-gious communities relying on classical spiritual texts in the appropriation of their traditions. I offer some tentative strategies from a Franciscan perspective to face and interpret these chal-lenges. These strategies are based on the Franciscan vision of the world as book and on the sapiential focus of Franciscan theology. The articulation and implementation of a Franciscan response to virtual reality technologies and infomania are fundamental tasks not to be ignored. Otherwise the lasting wisdom of our spiritual heritage may become obscured or lost in the climate of literary insensitivity and insatiable information hunger increasingly char-acteristic of the United States cultural milieu. The Nature and Challenge of Virtual Reality What is meant by the term virtual reality? Michael Helm gives the following definition in The Metaphysics of Virtual Reality: Virtual reality pertains to convincing the participant that he or she is actually in another place, by substituting the normal sensory input received by the participant with the information produced by a computer. This is usually done through three-dimensional graphics and input-output devices that closely resembie the participant's normal inter-face with the physical world. The definition of VR includes several factors and emphases: artificial reality, as when the user's full-body actions combine with computer-generated images to forge a single presence; interactivity, as when the user enters a building by means of a mouse traveling on a screen; immer-sion, as when the user dons a head-mounted display enabling a view of a three-dimensional animated world; net-worked environments, in which several people can enter a virtual world at the same time; telepresence, in which the user feels present in a virtual world while robotic machines effect the user's agency at a remote location in the actual pri-mary world.: Although the arrival of the age of virtual reality is not read-ily recognized by everyone, it is apparent to those cognizant of United States cultural trends that we are moving from a culture ffobnso.n ¯ Back to the Future based on books to one based on computer-driven graphics and visual imagery. For those who have eyes to see and ears to hear, the challenge of the future is already found in the crowded amuse-ment arcades across the United States where thousands of young people gather to spend long hours staring at video screens. Following the example of many of their parents, who found great solace and entertainment in front of the television, many of these young people are not likely to develop a taste for serious reading. The shift from the written word to the visual image carries with it a tremendous challenge to those involved in the preser-vation and interpretation of religious traditions. The memory of a religious community such as the Franciscan Order, for example, is preserved in many literary documents. Not only do these texts serve as a historical disclosure of the particular tradition, they also carry the promise of the future development of that tradi-tion inasmuch as they are interpreted and appropriated anew by subsequent generations of community members. Those who work in formation and education have a particular responsibility in the future development of their religious traditions; therefore, they cannot avoid the question of the appreciation and use of those texts that are normative documents for the development and expo-sition of their charisms. Formators and educators introduce these classical texts to their members. Their role, however, will be equivalent to that of museum custodians if the spiritual classics are presented simply as part of a formation requirement and not inter-preted and integrated anew in the life of the community. Formation and education ministries provide a unique and privileged setting for this hermeneutical project; yet the cultural emphasis on visual images, as opposed to literary texts, complicates this task because many of our present and potential community members are already formed in an image-based culture long before they contemplate entering religious life. The trend towards a visual culture, manifest in many sectors of United States soci-ety for years, has been accentuated and accelerated by the appear-ance and ongoing refinement of what is spoken of as virtual reality. The emergence of a visual or image culture and the concomitant development of virtual reality technologies pose a challenge, in general, to a culture which has been largely transmitted by the written word, and, in particular, to cultural traditions such as reli-gious life which consider literary texts among the definitive, nor-mative expressions of community identity. 24 Review for Religious The challenge of a visual, image-centered culture, symbol-ized in the growing interest in virtual reality, can be faced by a cre-ative incorporation of technology and text. Our very idea of reading may change and lead to a new way of approaching clas-sical spiritual texts. Fortunately virtual reality itself may lead us back through the past to our future. The possible demise of lit-erary appreciation under the continuing onslaught of virtual real-ity technologies opens up an exciting, albeit undeveloped arena, for the cultivation of our literary tradition. Michael Heim writes that by the year 2000 the vast majority of written texts will be accessible in electronic form (p. 56). The availability of "elec-tronic literature" opens up attractive avenues for the develop-ment of an appreciation of traditions previously transmitted by the written word. One possible route for development is linked with the advent of what is termed hypertext. Hypertext technology is, according to Heim, an approach to navigating information. From the computer science point of view, hypertext is a database with nodes [screens] connected with links [mechanical connections] and link icons [to designate where the links exist in the texts]. The semantics of hypertext allows the user to link text freely with audio and video, which leads to hypermedia, a multimedia approach to information (p. 154). Hypertext allows every element of a text to be related to another element thereby creating an environment of electronic intertextuality, a "supertext" so to speak, where everything can be referred equally to something else. This is far different from the earlier literary experience where the secondary text or foot-notes were visually and conceptually subordinated to the primary text. Now, when a search is made of a particular word or phrase in hypertext, every context of the text containing that word or phrase will appear on the screen. Reminiscent 6f earlier forms of writing such as medieval illuminated manuscripts, hypertext unites the word and image into one text that is particularly appealing to those raised in a video or image culture. Hypertext allows these words or phrases in question to be cross referenced or linked simultaneously with photos, films and audio recordings. The reader, jumping back and forth at will through the electronic text, is free to enter into a world of con-tinuous textuality where the normal linear sequence of reading ~Tanuary-Febr~ary 1995 25 Johnson * Back to the Future The Scriptures are necessary because the debilitating effects of sin blind the eyes of the spirit and impede the effort to. understand the book of creation. is replaced by the intuitive, relational association of word, image, and sound. Since all the possible textual referents are but a click of the mouse away, the experience and the concept of a primary and a secondary text disappear on the screen right before our eyes (Heim, pp. 30-31). The introduction of hypertext capabilities into electronic lit-erature allows for an amplification and opening up of traditional spiritual texts to the inyriad levels of possible meaning embed-ded within the texts. Already there is the nascent realization among some contemporary observers of the literary scene that interactive soft-ware offers new possibilities for the appreciation and retrieval of classi-cal spiritual texts) From a Franciscan perspective, it is possible to envision an interactive version of Saint Bonaventure's Major Life of Saint Francis written in hypertext. This electronic classical text would incor-porate words, images, and sound. Among many of the advantages made possible by hypertext technology is that of allowing the introduction of other classics from the same tradition of the literary work into the dialogue of interpretation and appropriation. Not only would people be introduced to the written text of Bonaventure's work, but they would also encounter other classics of the Franciscan tradition represented in art, architecture, and music. Given the possibilities offered by hypertext, it is not difficult to imagine reading the Major Life of Saint Francis at a video terminal while simultaneously viewing the Giotto cycle of paintings in the Upper Basilica of Saint Francis in Assisi and listening to Gregorian chant of the same era. The utilization of interactive software in the manner just sug-gested leads us back, in a somewhat analogous sense, to the medieval experience of reading a text. For the medievals, like their classical predecessors, reading was an act of speaking and hearing words read aloud from a manuscript, since legere, "to read," and a'adire, "to hear," were virtual synonyxns in the Middle 26 Review for Religious Ages.4 This medieval practice of reading was often accompanied by looking at images on the manuscript which interpreted or illus-trated the words of the text. Our current custom of silent, pri-vate reading was rare in earlier times. Since it is largely culturally determined, our present mode of reading could be altered with-out losing the sense of what it means to read. Viewed against the horizon of cultural history, perhaps our current manner of read-ing is only an aberration that will gradually disappear as the use of virtual reality software with hypertext capabilities becomes a common reality in classroom education. A shift to the world of vir-tual reality, as unsettling as it might be to those who appreciate the solid feel of a book in their hands, may lead, paradoxically, to a greater appreciation of our literary tradition. Virtual Reality and the Franciscan Vision of the World The application of virtual reality technologies in the trans-mission and appreciation of the Franciscan literary tradition should not be reduced to simple, pragmatic response to an emerg-ing cultural challenge. Instead, this proposal is firmly grounded in the Franciscan approach to the world. The fundamental open-ness of the Franciscan tradition to the new possibilities offered by virtual reality technologies flows from a vision of the world as a divinely written text which can be heard as well as seen. Bonaventure, reflecting the medieval understanding of nature as the book of creation, considers all creatures as unique words uttered by God. He writes in the Commentary on Ecclesiastes, "Every creature is a divine word." All that exists comes into being through the word of the Father which is uttered eternally in the Son. Just as an audible word first exists as a mental concept in the mind of the speaker and takes on sensible form when spoken by a human voice, so also does the Son exist as the eternal Word of the Father which takes on sensible, temporal form in the Incarnation. From this perspective, creation can be considered a linguistic expression of the divine reality constituting a primary text or book in which men and women can read of the Creator. Scripture is a complementary text which fosters our attempt to read and appropriate the message found in the book of cre-ation. The Scriptures are necessary because the debilitating effects of sin blind the eyes of the spirit and impede the effort to under-stand the book of creation. Bonaventure notes in On the Trinity: January-February 1995 27 Johnson ¯ Back to tbe Future ¯. the book of creation was efficacious in the state of orig-inal innocence, when this book was not obscured nor the eye of humanity had been darkened. When the human eye, however, was darkened by sin, that mirror was rendered enigmatic and obscure and the interior ears of understand-ing were closed to hearing that testimony. Divine provi-dence decided to .provide, therefore, the testimony of another book, that is the book of the Scripture which was written, certainly, according to divine revelation . . . (q. 1, a. 2, concl. W. 55a]). The book of creation speaks of the Creator because, just as the wisdom of the artist is manifested in particular works of art, so too, all of created reality reveals the hand of the Master artisan. For Bonaventure, the same creatures, which are divine words, are also images of God which reveal the causative, creative wisdom of the Creator and share an analogical relationship with their original cause. As a result, any attempt on our part to come to know the Creator is determined by the exemplary nature of creatures and the physical and spiritual composition of human beings. The reality of the human condition dictates the necessity of learning about God through a careful reading of the book of cre-ation because the intellect is incapable of directly perceiving the light of God. Because of its material composition, it must depend on creatures who reveal, albeit in a darkened, imperfect manner, the divine light. Ultimately only contemplatives can read the book of creation because .only they, as opposed to natural philosophers, are able to perceive the divine image in the natural world which surrounds them. Creation serves as an appropriate matrix for contemplation because knowledge of God, like all knowledge of the intelligible, begins in contact with sense objects. Through the instrumental-ity of the five exterior senses, the contemplative can discern the power, wisdom, and benevolence of the Creator in the manifold works of.creation. While it would be a mistake to remain fixed on the level of sense objects by treating them as if they were more than images of the Creator, the intellect cannot ignore these images if it wishes to come to a profound knowledge of God. As Bonaventure points out, a painting can be known in two ways, either as a simple picture or as an image. To refuse to consider a painting as aft image is to remain fixated on the beauty of the perceived object wi.thout being drawn to the source of the beauty. To attribute the beauty to the source is an excellent way of know- 28 Review for Religious ing about God, because all noble properties observed in creatures speak of the Creator. Bonaventure's decision to ground the contemplative ascent into God amidst the beauty of creation was confirmed by Francis of Assisi's experience of creatures as witnesses to God. In the Major Life of Saint Francis, Bonaventure points out that the Poor Man of Assisi was neither deaf to the testimony of creatures nor blind to their beauty. Attentive to the divine glory resplendent throughout creation, he delighted in creatures and joined his voice with theirs in praise of the Creator. In the midst of nature, Francis perceived the divine harmony reflected in the various qualities of creatures and invited all humanity to praise God. With the keen gaze of the contemplative, Francis considered the world around him as a ladder allowing him to ascend to God. This lad-der, leading from creatures upward to the Creator, has three prin-cipal steps. The first step directly concerns the book of creation and consists in the proper reading of external, visible, sense objects. Bonaventure gives these images of the divine the techni-cal term vestige, meaning footstep. These vestiges are the discernible traces of the Creator in the world because they speak of God in a distinct, yet distant manner. Creatures as vestiges manifest the ternary properties of causality attributable to God as efficient, exemplary, and final cause. According to Bonaventure, all men and women are called, like Francis of Assisi, to read the book of creation. As the medieval understanding of reading indicates, the reading of a text entails the use of both our audio and visual faculties. Consequently, Bonaventure urges those who would pick up the book of creation in contemplation to open their eyes and ears to the presence of the Creator in the world. They will thereby come to a deeper knowl-edge of the divine which will be revealed in loving praise of God. A refusal, however, to seek the Creator in the splendors of creation through the use of the senses, is the height of stupidity: Therefore, whoever is not enlightened by such great splen-dors of created things is blind; whoever does not awaken from such great outcries is deaf; whoever on account of all these effects does not praise God is dumb; whoever does not perceive the First Principle from such great signs is a fool.--Open your eyes, therefore, direct the ears of your spirit, free your lips and apply your heart so that you may see, hear, praise, love and worship, magnify and honor your God in all creatures lest perhaps the whole world rise up ~anuary-February 199~ 29 ffobnson * Back to the Future against you. Fo? because of this the whole worm willfight against the senseless, but on the contrary it will be a matter of glory for the intelligent, who can say according to the Prophet: O Lord, you have delighted me in your work and in the works of your hands I will rejoice. How exalted are your works, 0 Lord: you have done all things in wisdom, the earth has been filled with your possessions.5 This text from Bonaventure's classic, The Journey of the Soul into God, along with other texts, is helpful in understanding the Franciscan approach to the world and serves as a point of depar-ture for a discussion of the relationship between virtual reality technologies and the Franciscan literary tradition. These texts indicate that Franciscans perceive and interpret the world as the book of creation, whose words are both visible and audible images of the Creator. Such an approach to the world, often spoken of as exemplarism, elicits a positive stance toward the senses, especially seeing and hearing, because they are essential in the reading of the divine truths revealed in the book of creation. The cultivation of the senses as doorways to the divine with the concomitant insight into created realities as images of God creates a favorable envi-ronment in which a response to and implementation of virtual reality technologies can be envisioned. In fact, the contemporary turn toward graphic imagery and multisensual reading of elec-tronic texts is a cultural shift which is harmonious with the tra-ditional Franciscan understanding and positive evaluation of imagery and senses. The various aspects proper to the Franciscan tradition which have been examined, the world as book and reading as a visual-aural experience, are reflected to some degree in current efforts to develop hypertext versions of literary documents. For example, if we regard the world as a book, we expand the concept of a leg-ible text beyond that of a written product such as a published book to include all created reality. Creation can be ~onceived as a hypertext replete with myriad referents to be read and inter-preted by the attentive reader. When the world itself is under-stood as text, a hypertext exposition of Bonaventure's Major Life of Saint Francis, which would include written words, images, and sounds, can be considered as a book and, therefore, as an inte-gral element of the Franciscan literary tradition. To admit with Bonaventure that hearing along with seeing is involved in the act of reading is to embrace the idea of reading as an audiovisual 30 Review for Religious experience. Consequently, those who listen to and look at a hyper-text version of the Major Life of Saint Francis on a monitor are as much involved in the task of reading as those who, book in hand, follow the written text. The Nature and Challenge of Infomania The challenge of virtual reality is not the only potential obsta-cle to the formation of members in a tradition exemplified by Franciscans. Infomania is another. The term infomania is used by Michael Heim to describe the ever growing hunger for informa-tion at the expense of wisdom. The roots of infomania are dis-cernible in the rapid and nearly universal acceptance of word processing as the standard form of writing technology within United States culture (pp. 41-42). The introduction of the com-puter and word processing capabilities has not only dramatically increased the flow of written material, but it has also altered the very experience of writing. The majority of writers in the United States, as recently as a decade ago, were compelled to formulate their thoughts carefully before typing them. The penalty for hasty composition was the inevitable task of retyping or, at the very least, the necessity of fumbling around with erasing tapes or bot-tles of correcting fluid. The logical sequence of thought, which demanded a beginning, middle, and end to every proposed sen-tence, paragraph, and chapter before it appeared in print, is no longer required with word processing. Words are now electronic data bits which are easily manipulated and transferred. Authors can create their texts free style, thinking, so to speak, on the screen in front of them. One consequence of writing with word processing technology is that language can become merely a surrogate for information transfer. Helm points out that when words are reduced to autonomous data bits they are easily removed from their original context and their significance obscured or lost: Information is a unit of knowledge that by itself has only a trace of significance. Information presupposes a significant context but does not deliver or guarantee one. Because con-text does not come built in, information can be handled and manipulated, stored and transmitted, at computer speeds. Word processing makes us information virtuosos, as the computer transforms all we write into information code. But human we remain. For us, significant language January-February 199 ~ 31 Johnson ¯ Back to the Future always depends on the felt context of our own limited expe-rience. We are biologically finite in what we can attend to meaningfully. When we pay attention to the significance of something, we cannot proceed at the computer's breakneck pace. We have to ponder, reflect, contemplate. Infolnania erodes our capacity for significance. With a mind-set fixed on information, our attention span short-ens. We collect fragments. We become mentally poorer in overall ~neaning. We get into the habit of clinging to knowl-edge bits and lose our feel for the wisdom behind the knowl-edge. In the information age, some people even believe that literacy or culture is a matter of having the right facts at our fingertips (p. 10). The challenge of infomania which Heim outlines is much more pressing for us as Franciscans than that of virtual reality, because infomania threatens to erode our capacity to appreciate the wisdom found within our own literary tradition. To encounter such wisdom requires contemplative reading antithetical to the rapid assimilation of information proper to the world of infoma-nia. While the reality of infomania does not appear to offer a res-olution of the problems it engenders, the seeds of a solution to the possible threat of virtual reality technology are contained within the technology itself. In fact, it could be argued that the growing emphasis on visual imagery in United States culture may lead to a deeper appreciation of the very literary texts we fear may be neglected. Electronic literature, augmented by hypertext soft-ware, holds out the promise of a richer understanding of classical spiritual texts like Bonaventure's Major Life of Saint Francis. It would be difficult to take the same optimistic position about info-mania. The widespread growth of infomania as a cultural phe-nomenon within the United States heralds a staggering shift in the relationship between reader and text. The implications for Franciscans and other religious communities are evident. When words are viewed as vehicles for bits of information to be trans-ferred and absorbed, as opposed to meaningful ideas to be com-municated and contemplated, the retrieval of traditions within a religious community by means of literary texts becomes prob-lematic. Both the initial appreciation and later appropriation of clas-sical spiritual literature presupposes a shared belief in the possi-ble significance or meaning of the texts; those who read the 32 Review for Religious definitive texts of a community do so with the notion that the lit-erature has meaning for the members of the community that pro-duced it, and by implication, significance for those who are considering entrance into the community. That literature in gen-eral, and religious texts in particular, has any lasting significance for individuals or communities is no longer a presupposition in the present era of infomania. Already, the appreciation of books and the sense of meaning proper to literature is disappearing in cer-tain sectors of our culture in the wake of an ever growing desire for information. Heim's observations here are trenchant: Today libraries are becoming information centers rather than places for musing. The Los Angeles County Public Library, the world's largest circulating library, receives more requests for information than requests for books. In 1989, one university in California opened the first library without books, a building for searching electronic texts. Books still remain a primary source, but they are rapidly becoming mere sources of information . Searching through books was always more romance than busyness, more rumination than information. Information is by nature time bound. Supported by tech-nological systems, information depends on revision and updating. When books become mere sources of informa-tion, they lose the atmosphere of contemplative leisure and timeless enjoyment. Old books then seem irrelevant, as they no longer pertain to current needs. One of the new breed of information publishers epitomizes this attitude in a pithy warning: 'Any book more than two years old is of ques-tionable value. Books more than four or five years are a menace. Out of date = dangerous (pp. 24-26). Infomania and the Franciscan Theological Tradition How are religious communities like the Franciscans to respond to the challenge posed by infomania? The answer may be found in our taking a hands-on, direct approach to the reading and interpreting of the spiritual classics of our tradition which accen-tuates their sapiential character. In a fashion somewhat reminis-cent of the futuristic literary community of Fahrenheit 4~I, Franciscans, especially those in formation and education ministry, bear the task of keeping their literary heritage alive. They can accomplish this by assisting potential candidates and present com-munity members in the art of textual interpretation. Their efforts would serve as a practical way in which the wisdom of definitive January-February 1995 33 Johnson ¯ Back to the Future texts can be preserved and handed on to subsequent generations. This hands-on approach necessitates the active involvement of the formation directors and educators in the reading and inter-pretation of these spiritual sources. The proper interpretation of spiritual texts in formation and educational spheres encourages a dynamic of contemplative appre-ciation; it also opens the door to the discussion of a wide range of issues relevant to the living out of the wisdom embedded in the texts. To simply throw supposedly "important books" at others, and especially at candidates for religious life without assisting them in the appropriation of their significance is a disturbing rep-etition of the same attitudes fostered by the culture of infoma-nia. Literary texts once again become nothing other than data bits to be processed and absorbed. The wisdom of our literary tradi-tion is acquired only when we, as Heim would urge us, go beyond the mere collection and assimilation of information to "ponder, reflect, contemplate" the meaning of what we read. Religious for-mators and educators can encourage such a contemplative stance toward 6ur literary tradition by entering into the process proper to the interpretation of spiritual classics, regardless of whether they are written in a mechanical or electronic format. When we speak of fostering a contemplative attitude toward the spiritual classics of the Franciscan tradi'tion, we do so in light of the invitation of the Second Vatican Council to religious to rediscover and interpret their charism in contemporary society. One dimension of renewal concerns the interpretation of defini-tive literary texts of the religious communities, since it is hard to imagine how they could rediscover their charism if daey.neglected the classics Of their traditions. There are any number of wisdom texts which religious communities consider as classic expressions of their community traditions. Many Franciscans, for example, would place works like Bonaventure's Major Life of Saint Francis into the category of spiritual classics alongside those of Francis and Clare. As the Directives on Formation in Religiolts lnstitute? recom-mend, texts like these are to be introduced early in the forma-tion process so they might foster in novices, "a relish for the great authors of the Church's spiritual tradition, without being limited to spiritual reading of a modern cast.''6 Unfortunately the practice of reading spiritual classics is often neglected in formation and educational programs. This situation is understandable, given that those responsible for the develop- 34 Review for Religious ment of these programs often lack the skills necessary to grapple with important, but obtuse wisdom texts from the past. Given the crucial role of spiritual classics for the renewal of religious life and the cultural obstacles to their appropriation occasioned by infomania, a major task facing formators and educators is that of acquiring a modicum of competence in this area so they can help those in their care to know and value their spiritual tradition. The discipline of spiritual reading will become a reality in the context of formation and education programs when, and only when, the forma-tors and educators themselves are willing to enter into an interpre-tative conversation with the clas-sical literature of their traditions. What does it mean to speak of textual interpretation as a conver-sation, and how is the conversa-tion conducted? When we use a term like conversation we are not referring to an idle debate, gossip, or nonnegotiable confrontation. The model of conversation here is that found in David Tracy's The Analogical Imagination: Christian Theology and the Cult~tre of Pluralism. Authentic conversation takes place when the participants are able to go beyond self-consciousness and self-seeking and enter into a joint reflection upon the subject matter of the conversation. The pattern of their conversation is back and forth; it includes the capacity and willingness to listen, reflect, correct, and to speak to the point. In the conversation, the questions raised in the exchange take over--not the individual agendas of those involved--as the sub-ject matter assumes primacy. The conversation model, as paradig-matic for the dynamic of interpretative understanding, is applicable in the reading of those literary texts that religious com-munities consider definitive or classic. This model can also be The discipline of spiritual reading will become a reality in the context of formation and education programs when, and only when, the formators and educators themselves are willing to enter into an interpretative conversation with the classical literature of their traditions. January-February 1995 35 Johnson ¯ Back to the Future employed in reflections on images and symbols of art, music, architecture, since all these areas are potential "texts" offering subject matter for religious conversation and interpretation. This proposed interpretative stance toward the wisdom texts of the Franciscan tradition, which reflects a contemplative approach to literary classics, is a direct challenge to infomania. It is grounded in the methodology of Franciscan theology. From the beginning, Franciscan theologians have been concerned with the pursuit of sapiential knowledge as opposed to the mere accumu-lation of information or growth in conceptual knowledge. According to Alexander of Hales, theology as a science has more to do with the experience of wisdom than the conceptual knowl-edge proper to science in the strict Aristotelian sense of the word. While Alexander distinguishes between the science of created real-ities and the science of original causes, he goes beyond Aristotle's definition of wisdom as the science of original causes to include affective knowledge of God. This manner of knowing is an expe-riential "tasting" of divine goodness because the term sapientia, according to medieval etymology, is related to the term sapor denoting "taste." For Alexander, such affective wisdom, which moves people to live better lives, is identified with theology: Furthermore, it must be noted that there is a science which perfects knowledge according to truth and a science which moves the affections toward the good. The first is knowl-edge according to sight and, therefore, must be spoken of as an absolute science.The second is knowledge according to taste and, therefore, wisdom must be spoken of as com-ing from affective taste according to what is said in Ecclesiastes 6:23: It is wisdom according to its name. Theology, therefore, which perfects the soul accord-ing to affection, moving [the soul] toward the good by the principles of fear and love, is properly and principally, wis-dom. The First Philosophy, which is the theology of philosophers, concerns first things and perfects under-standing by way of the arts and reasoning; however, it is not properly spoken of as wisdom. Indeed certain sciences, which treat consequent causes and those things which are caused, are said to concern science and not wisdom.7 Alexander of Hales's description of theology as sapiential knowledge is reflected in the writings of his most famous stu-dent, Bonaventure, who held that both Franciscan and Dominican theologians are called to the "tasting" of divine goodness. In their dedication to theological studies, the friars distinguish themselves 36 Review for Religious from other communities such as the Cistercians, Carthusians, and Canons Regular, whose attention was directed primarily towards prayer, devotion, and the celebration of the liturgy. For their part, the lives of the Preachers and Minors are called to theological reflection; there is a distinct difference in emphasis. The Preachers focus primarily on study itself and then on the affective enjoy-ment of God afforded by study, while the Minors emphasize the "tasting" of divine goodness followed by study. The view of the Franciscans was based on Francis of Assisi's conviction that it was pointless to acquire information about God without enjoying the experience of God. Bonaventure quotes Francis in this regard in the Collations on the Six Days, "What good is it to know many things and taste nothing." The savoring of "the goodness of the Lord" in the course of theological reflection was a significant, but certainly not the exclu-sive purpose of theology, according to the early Franciscan mas-ters. While they responded to the Aristotelian challenge by indicating that theology was indeed a speculative or contempla-tive science, the friars stressed that the discipline of theology was ultimately oriented toward praxis. Oddo of Rigauld writes "As to its end, theology does not rest in pure knowledge, but is moreover ordered to works; therefore, one must say that it is a practical science." Bonaventure notes that while theology does have a con-templative dimension to it, it is concerned most of all with the sapiential knowledge which moves the affections and leads to moral goodness. Following the teachings of Francis, the theolo-gians of the Franciscan community taught that accumulation of information or knowledge for the sake of knowledge was useless, if not dangerous. Knowledge of God was to be translated into daily life. Oddo makes this point when delineating the relation-ship between theological knowl.edge, pastoral skills, and action: And to that objection, 'that science has little or nothing to do with virtue' one can say that this statement concerns those sciences which are purely speculative; however, the-ology is not purely speculative, but practical. Or one can say that the Philosopher is referring to a certain knowledge provided that it does not lead to action. This is not the case with theology because even though someone may be a good theologian and preacher, if he does not wish to use what he knows, it is of little or no use to him.s The Franciscan understanding of knowledge as wisd6m, as sought in theological study and expressed in the context of daily .~anuao,-February 199Y 37 Johnson ¯ Back to tbe Future life, is diametrically opposed to the view of knowledge as insignif-icant, autonomous bits of information or data. Classical texts such as the Scriptures are of perennial value because they continually reveal the depths of divine wisdom and offer insights capable of molding the lives of those who read. The book of the Scriptures, together with all creatures who are divine words in the world, speak of the wisdom of God with words in need of interpretation and appropriation. The same point can be made about the literary classics of the Franciscan tradition. Franciscans, therefore, are to grow in knowl-edge by reading and appropriating the divine words uttered throughout creation. Listening and responding to their spiritual classics, Franciscans engage in a lectio divina marked by an expe-rience of divine wisdom which changes their lives for the better. In the present age of infomania, where growth in knowledge can be mistakenly equated with the accumulation of information, the Franciscan hermeneutic underlines the inseparable link between words, be they written or electronic, discursive or graphic, and meaning. Words are rooted in a context of ~neaning which is to be respected. In the transfer of information, there is the peril that the significance of the words used will be altered or disappear all together. Whatever their form, words cannot be reduced to incon-sequential data bits because they are ultimately an expression of the word of God.9 In a culture marked by infomania, a contem-plative stance toward the words found in the classical texts of the Franciscan tradition will go a long way in preserving these works as wisdom texts for generations to come. Conclusion The twin challenges of virtual reality and infomania call for the sober realization, first of all, that there is no going back to a supposed earlier, precomputer age of innocence. Those who used to do battle with typewriters and now play with word processors will testify to this. Would-be Cassandras warning of nightmare cybernetic futures will never succeed in turning away the crowds pushing through the doors of America's myriad video arcades. The fact is that the very people huddling around video terminals are future candidates for religious communities. The era of vi~tual .reality.and infomania has already arrived in the experience of these young people regardless Of what 6ur feelings about the.real 38 Review for Religious or perceived, negative or positive aspects of these cultural phe-nomena may be. In response to this challenge, a reasoned, pro-gressive approach is imperative that capitalizes on the potential of new technologies such as hypertext, while safeguarding the sig-nificance of our literary heritage. We need not fear the growing diffusion of a virtual reality mentality, if we are willing to utilize the new technologies in a manner suitable to the texts we wish to preserve and hand on to future generations. These efforts will be wasted, however, if there is not a concomitant attempt to appreciate and retrieve these spir-itual classics. The appropriation of these texts, be they written or electron]i:, is uli:imat~ly dependent on an interpretative dialogue within communities, such as the Franciscans, that produced and enfleshed them in the praxis of a shared life. In the future, candi-dates may read the classics of spir-ituality in hypertext with the assistance of images and sound. And just as Augustine was struck by Ambrose's .silent reading of the Scriptures in a Milanese garden, a formation director may marvel at a candidate reading the writ-ings of Francis on a glowing mon-itor in a Minneapolis home. Whatever our future real or vir-tual reality scenarios may look like, one thing is certain: We will always need men and women capable of interpreting and living out the perennial wisdom embedded in our spiritual classics. Their efforts in the formation and education spheres are essential if the abiding significance of our religious traditions is to be appreciated and appropriated anew in a culture formed in the matrix of info-mania. The Franciscan understanding of knowledge as wisdom, as sought in theological study and expressed in the context of daily life, is diametrically opposed to the view of knowledge as insignificant, autonomous bits of information or data. Notes ~Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 4Yl (New York: Ballantine Books, 1991). January-February 199Y 39 Johnson ¯ Back to the Future 2 Michael Heim, The Metaphysics of Virtual Reality (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993) p. 160. 3 John Cumming, "The Frankfurt Bookshelf," The Tablet, 30 October 1993, 1434. 4 Giles Constable, Letters and Letter Collections: Typologie dedsources du moyen age, 17 (Turnhout: ]~ditions Brepols, 1976) 54. s Quote from Jos~ Antonio Merino, Visionefrancescana della vita quo-tidiana (Assisi: Cittadella Editrice, 1993) 92. 6 Potissimum lnstitutioni, Directives on Formation in Religious Institutes (Rome: Vatican Press, 1990) 38, n. 47. 7 Alexander of Hales, Summa tbeologica, trac, intro., q. 1, c. 1, Solutio, 2b (Quaracchi: Collegio San Bonaventura, 1924-1928). s Quote from Leonardo Sileo, Teoria della scienza teologica, 18. 9 Orlando Todisco, Le creature e le parole, p. 127. A Commuter's Winter Reflection Dawnlit silhouettes of leafless trees crisply etched against a glowing sky simple and spare: long lacy limbs, primly elegant, tangent tapered trunks, trimly debonair for all their rootedness. Wind-whipped or rain-soaked, ice-tipped or snow-cloaked, steadfast they stand as wif~ter witnesses: daily summoning not to vivacious hope (the grace of evergreens) but to a feisty faith in future blossoming. Mary Karen Kelly GNSH 40 Review for Religious RUTH FOX Beyond Ecumenism: Religious as Pioneers Everyone today is aware of the need for ecumenism, with the call for dialogue and mutual respect among the various religions of the world. Because of their grounding in theology and in a life of prayer, men and women reli-gious are in an especially advantageous position not only to be involved in ecumenical affairs, but to move beyond the ordinary boundaries of ecumenism. What does it mean to go beyond ecumenism? It means going beyond dialogue, coffee, exchange of homilists, prayer for unity, interfaith choirs, joint Thanksgiving Day services, and ecumenical conferences. Each of these typical ecumenical events is limited in scope and intention. The participants come together for an hour or so for a specific task, are nice to one another, learn about a new book to read, and then go home feeling good about their open-mindedness. But because these are only events, the results probably go little further than the boundaries of the event. Sister Ruth Fox OSB is the president of the Federation of St. Gertrude, a union of eighteen monasteries of women in the United States and Canada. She is the current representative of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious to the National Ecumenical Consultation. This article was originally presented at the annual meeting of the National Ecumenical Consultation 8-10 August 1994, at Narragansett, Rhode Island. The NEC is an organization for religious interested in ecumenism and inter-religious dialogue. Sister Ruth's address is Sacred Heart Monastery; Box 354; Richardson, North Dakota 58652. aTanuary-February 199 ~ 41 Fox ¯ Beyond Ecumenism How, then, can religious go deeper than these ecumenical exercises? To put it simply, there is a need to move beyond events to processes. Some valuable insights into this shift of focus can be gained from a recent book on business management: Leadership and the New Science: Learning about Organization from an Orderly Universe by Margaret Wheatley (San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 1992). The author has used the findings of new science to take a look at organizational management. She says that we have lived and worked from a Newtonian point of view--everything has its parts which function in a predictable, hierarchical order. All we need to do is figure out the structure of the universe, apply it to our human systems, and all will function in an orderly manner. Most organizations have tried to operate this way, even the church. If we just get this program, these people, the right plans, com-petent hierarchy find obedient subjects--especially obedient sub-jects-- then the church will be a perfect organization. If we get a good ecumenical program, get the right parts and right people, organize them carefully, direct from an efficient main office, unity will result. But that is not the way the universe works, and it is not the way ecumenism will work. Wheatley says that the new science has revealed a different kind of universe: "The quantum mechan-ical view of reality strikes against most of our notions of reality. Even to scientists, it is admittedly bizarre. But it is a world where relationship is the key determiner of what is observed and of how particles manifest themselves. Particles come into being and are observed only in relationship to something else" (p. 10). The world is made up of events that are held together in rela-tionship by unseen connections. "These unseen connections between What were previously thought to be separate entities are the fun-damental elements of all creation" (p. 10). Relationships define structure, not the other way around. Living structures are con-stantly changing as the inner relationships change. They are a "continuous dance of energy" (Fritjof Capra quoted in Wheatley, p. 32). Particles come and go, in time too brief to imagine, into a state of being through relationships with energy sources. Matter is manifested now as particles, now as waves of energy, always in relationship. "Nothing exists independent of its relationship with something else" (p. 34). Even our observation of matter brings us into the relationship, into the dance, by which we are changed 42 Review for Religious and matter is changed. Everything in nature is a web of connec-tions, of potential relationships. For organizations in this age of quantum mechanics, the rel-evant question is not what structure will give control, but what structure will enhance the current channels of relationships? What structure will encourage more channels of relationships? Channels of nourishment are needed also. Wheatley says that healthy structures are nourished by information because infor-mation gives energy. "We need to have information coursing through our systems, disturbing the peace, imbuing everything it touches with new life" (p. 105). Energy, new life, relationships extend far beyond their point of origin. It is now believed that space is filled with so-called "fields" of connections. We have long been familiar with the all-pervasive fields of gravity and magnetism. "The invisible world is filled with mediums of connec-tions" (p. 49) that exert influence on mat-ter far and wide. In human relationships also, there are comparable fields of energy. One can actu-ally feel different kinds of fields when walk-ing into a home or church or community. Because of attitudes and behaviors of individuals in the community, a person can almost tangibly touch an invisible field of energy: hospitality, openness, peace, friendliness, or tension, suspicion, coldness, rigidity. Wheatley says, "We need all of us out there, stating, clar-ifying, discussing, modeling, filling all of space with the messages we care about. If we do that, fields develop--and with them, their wondrous capacity to bring energy into form" (p. 56). I am reminded of the Buddhist prayer flags that I saw waving in the wind around the Tibetan Buddhist temples in India. Words from the Buddhist scriptures are printed on these flags, with the idea of sending the message of peace and love throughout the universe. Without knowing about scientific "fields" the Buddhists have been, in a sense, attempting to create invisible fields of tran-quillity for ages. How does this new science speak to religious who are chal-lenged to move beyond ecumenism, to be pioneers for interreli- The world is made up of events that are held together in relationship by unseen connections. January-February 199Y 43 Fox ¯ Beyond Ecumenism gious activities? The insights from science imply that we do not need to focus our main energies on constructing programs or structures that will create unity. The unity we desire is already a reality in the existing web of connections. Faulty information and attitudes have divided us in the past. Now we need more infor-mation to overwhelm us with the realization that God created us one, that we are already bonded together by existing relation-ships that come from the creative hand of God. We have allowed patterns of self-interest to blind us to this web of connectedness. Where the web has been broken or cam-ouflaged by centuries of debris, religious have the vision and ded-ication to reveal the truth of our connections once again. Where fields of suspicion, self-righteousness, arrogance, and misunder-standings abound, religious can replace these invisible energies with new fields of trust, openness, charity, humility--first in our own houses, then in our local church, then our civic communities. Each single word we speak, each simple act of unity we perform, goes forth from us on an endless journey of connections. An image came to my attention as I was reflecting on this topic. My daily meditation location is in my bedroom where I can look out over the North Dakota prairie from my window. My attention fell on a barbed wire fence that separates our property from a cattle pasture. Fences. Humans build them to mark bound-aries, to keep something out and something in--to protect, define, possess, claim, imprison, differentiate. Yet this past winter, a herd of deer who could find no food in the snow-covered pasture dis-regarded the fence and leaped right over it to enjoy the needles of the evergreen trees on our property. The fence did not mark any boundary for them. At best, it was just a minor barrier. Then I thought of birds who fly over all human fences, and of crawling creatures who would barely notice the wires stretched above them. For these creatures, all the earth is one. For us also, in God's eyes, there are no fences between us; we are already one. We are united in our humanity, in our crea-tureliness, in our being images of God. But we have created fences to mark boundaries between us. With the ecumenical movement, we have decided sometimes to hold hands through the fence, or, while staying on our own side, to walk together along the fence line for a short distance. Religious authorities have decided at times to build gates at certain specified points in the fence and to allow their subjects to go in and out with supervision. More and 44 Review for Religious more of these gates are being built for interchange. Decrees are occasionally issued which declare some portions of certain fences outdated. Recently I read that Catholic and Lutheran leaders around the world are moving their respective churches toward lifting the 16th-century mutual condemnations on the doctrine of justification. The target date is set for 1997. Why does it take so long? These breakthroughs, it seems, are slow and labori-ous, and meanwhile the fences are still there to divide us. Using a rural prairie image, I see religious called to be the fence-crossers, like the deer, the birds, the squirrels, the crawlers, who know the oneness of the ground beneath them and the heavens above them. They qui-etly fly over, jump over, crawl through, or slide under the fence, perhaps even without noticing it, building networks and relationships with one another, the earth, and all crea-tures. I myself have crawled through the barbed wire fence many times. Sometimes I have lost my balance and fallen on the ground, gotten little tears in my clothing and scratches on my legs. Fence crossing can leave us with scars, but scars are at least signs of something tried. Only a few of us may be called to the level of making ecu-menical documents and decrees, or founding interfaith commu-nities. But I think our pioneering as religious can be just as valuable in discovering and developing ways for us and for the friends of our communities to build local networks, one-on-one relationships beneath and over the fences. In my own limited experience, I am aware of four such con-temporary ongoing processes involving religious that have been moving the participants beyond ecumenism. 1. Monastic Interreligious Dialogue: After Vatican Council II, the Vatican asked the Benedictine Order to initiate dialogue with Our pioneering as religious can be valuable in discovering and developing ways for us and for the friends of our communities to build local networks, one-on-one relationships beneath and over the fences. January-February 199Y 45 Fox ¯ Beyond Ecumenism the non-Christian Eastern religions. Because of the commonality of monasticism, there was already a basis or groundwork for the beginning of dialogue. The American Benedictines began their dialogue with the Dalai Lama and the Tibetan Buddhist monks and nuns in exile in India. Since 1978, several exchanges have occurred, with Buddhists monks and nuns visiting Benedictine monasteries of men and women in the U.S., and American monks and nuns spending time in India. I was one of the fortunate ones to spend ten weeks in India in the fall of 1986. Because of my monastic formation, I felt quite at home in a Buddhist monastery, where the daily horarium, the chanting of scriptures in the tem-ple, and the lifestyle of simplicity, poverty, celibacy, and obedience was similar to my own. We joined the Buddhists in their temples for their hours of prayer and talked about our common concerns for world peace, justice, a recognition of dignity for all persons, self-support, and care of our elderly. Although dialogue took place, there was much more than dialogue--there was a connec-tion of the heart, an ongoing process of communion that is con-tinuing to change the hearts and attitudes of all the participants and their respective communities. As I reflected on this exchange, I began wondering if such an exchange has been happening among Christian religious. I suspect that most Catholic religious are only vaguely knowledgeable of other Christian religious in the United States. I am not aware that there has been any exchange of Catholic women religious with Anglican, Lutheran, or Orthodox communities of women. (I would not know about the men, but I have not heard of any exchanges.) Are we even on each other's mailing lists for our newsletters? Do we have any members interested in such exchange? 2. Great Plains Institute of Theology: Several years ago the west-ern North Dakota Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America initiated an ongoing education program in theology for pastors and lay people. Clergy with theological expertise were invited to share their studies with others in small group classes. One of the first faculty members was a Benedictine monk, and one of the ongoing board members has been a Benedictine abbot, with many of the sessions being held at the Benedictine abbey. I was invited to be a member of the board seven years ago, even serving a term as president. Although several Benedictine monks and nuns often participated in the classes and seminars, very few 46 Review for Religious Catholic priests or lay persons did. There was somehow a con-nection between Benedictines and the Lutheran clergy and laity. Perhaps studying theology together is not beyond ecumenism-- but the resulting ongoing relationships, trust, and openness are. 3. Monastery of St. Benedict Center: We have within the Federation of St. Gertrude eighteen monasteries of Benedictine women in the U.S. and Canada. Most of our communities are facing diminishment of members, energy, and sponsored institu-tions. As Jude Weisenbeck SDS wrote in an article in Review for Religious (November-December, 1993), most religious commu-nities are struggling for survival and renewal, perhaps even refounding. One small monastery of seven members in our Federation, in Madison, Wisconsin, has in a particular way met this challenge head-on. They initiated several consultations with their ecumenical friends, and, as a result, have made a commit-ment to refocus their identity as an ecumenical Benedictine monastery. There are several canonical as well as lifestyle ques-tions yet to be answered. But I believe we do not even know what the questions will be until it is tried. I am pleased that this monastery is willing to begin this journey beyond ecumenism. 4. United Methodist Church: Some years ago (1984) the United Methodist Church approved a resolution to explore the possibil-ity of establishing an ecumenical monastic community. Since then some attempts have been made to establish various types of com-munities with the mentoring of Benedictine monasteries of men and women. Will these small efforts make any difference in promoting unity? The herd of twenty deer criss-crossing our lawn almost daily for a couple months this past winter will affect our lawn this summer. Their consumption of the lower branches of our ever-greens will affect the birds who nest there, which, if it does not affect the insect population, will affect the beauty of our grounds. I am reminded of Wheatley's quotation of Edward Lorenz regard-ing the butterfly effect. "Does the flap of a butterfly wing in Tokyo, Lorenz queried, affect a tornado in Texas (or a thunder-storm in New York)? Though unfortunate for the future of accu-rate weather prediction, his answer was yes" (p. 126). As men and women of the Scriptures and imbued with the Holy Spirit, we know that we stand on common Holy Ground and that we worship the same God. We are one; let us do what we can to move beyond ecumenism and live as one. .~anuary-Febr~ary 1995 47 SHAUN MCCARTY Dynamic Memory's Role in Reimaging the Future d s we approach the third millennium, there has been much talk concerning the quest for new visions and the need for new paradigms that will express old values in ways suited for the future. We face complex and confusing social contexts affected by such influences as scientific and technological advances, the movement towards a global economy, the realignment of national boundaries, and the growth of multicultural societies. These pose formidable challenges for people of faith. In religious cirFles, too, many perceive what they consider to be major paradigm shifts in progress. There has been considerable interest in developing new models of church, of consecrated life, of various ministries, of spiritualities that will incarnate peren-nial values in ways more suited to the accelerating changes the future will bring. As We attempt to accept coresponsibility for fashioning the future in these transitional times, there is obvi-ously a need for the exercise of creative imagination as well as for careful, prayerful, and corporate discernment of the signs of the times. My purpose here is not to offer predictions or prophecies for the next millennium. Rather, it is to provide some framework and stimulus for pursuing new visions and new paradigms in these transitional times. My focus will be on the role of dynamic mem-ory as it relates to the process of reimaging the future. To move Shaun McCarty ST has taught in the Washington Theological Union and in the Shalem Institute. Currently he is director at the Trinity Ministries Center. His address is 1292 Long Hill Road; Sterling, New Jersey 07980. 48 Review for Religious forward responsibly, we need to go back faithfully. My basic premises are these: (1) Shaping new paradigms calls for the exer-cise of creative imagination. (2) Key to the development of creative imagination for the future are dyna~nic memories of the past. (3) Personal and corporate memories will be more dynamic to the extent that we bring them to prayerful reflection and discern-ment of the signs of the times. Creative Imagination As understood here, creative imagination is the power to cre-ate new images or ideas by combining past experiences. As I use the term, I mean the graced capacity that allows us to project ourselves into the future; it involvds the creative ability to con-struct a dream and the human imperative to conceive an individ-ual and corporate vision. Without a vision for the future, both groups and individuals become moribund. Every lasting society, culture, tradition needs its utopia, its dream. No civilization has survived without its cor-porate dream. For example, the American Dream is articulated, though far from realized, in documents such as the Bill of Rights which stress equality for all . . . life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Nowhere was it more prominently symbolized to our immigrant forebears than in the Statue of Liberty nor more lyricized than in the verses of Emma Lazarus inscribed at its base: Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp! cries she With silent lips. 'Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, the tempest-tost, to me I lift my lamp beside the golden door.' Every faith tradition has its vision for the future. As Christians, our corporate dream for the future is for the reign of God; our individual piece of that dream is for resurrection. Faith communities within the church have visions that are, as it were, refractions of the larger Christian vision of the reign of God. These dreams need ongoing reinterpretation suited to given times and culture. For example, the corporate dream of my own faith tradition as expressed by our founder (Thomas Augustine Judge, CM) was that "every Catholic be an apostle." January-February 199Y 49 McCarty ¯ Dynamic Memory's Role This might be better fornmlated today in terms of the universal baptismal call to mission as well as to holiness of life. Visions like this, I would suggest, are capable of containing the commitment of a person's entire life. Hence, relevance of a dream for the present summons us back to the past so we can move ahead to the future. Our collective and individual memories of God's actions in the past are touch-stones for discernment in fashioning new paradigms for the future. Indeed, as discerning communities of faith, we are bonded by shared memories of the past and shared hopes for the future. Each of us needs a dream to lure us forward unless, of course, we are content to live by convention. We are energized by our dreams, enervated without them. It involves the choice, either to dream or to die. Individuals need a sense of vision in discerning their call and their gifts in bringing those dreams to fruition. When people will not dare to dream or when they lose the dream, a sense of meaning in life can fade or si~nply vanish. Dynamic Memory In exploring the notion of dynamic memory, I ask the reader's indulgence as I begin by paraphrasing a favorite story of mine written for children of all ages entitled Wilf!'id Gordon McDonald Partridge.t Wilfrid Gordon was a small boy whom, we are told, "was not very old either." He lived next door to an old folks' home, and he got to know them all. He liked, listened to, played with, ran errands for and admired different residents. But his favorite per-son of all was Miss Nancy Mison Delacourt Cooper because she had four names just as he. He called her Miss Nancy and told her all his secrets. One day he overhears his mother and father calling Miss Nancy a "poor old thing." "Why is she a poor old thing?" asks Wilfrid Gordon. His father replies, "Because she's lost her memory." "What's a memory?" Wilfrid Gordon asks. He was always asking questions. "It's something you remember," said his father. But Wilfrid Gordon wanted to know more, so he visits his favorite old folks asking each in the turn, "What's a memory?" They respond variously that memory is something warm . . . 50 Review for Religqous something from long ago., something that makes you cry. something that makes you laugh . . . something as precious as gold . So Wilfrid Gordon goes home to look for memories for Miss Nancy because she had lost her own. Into a basket go his shoe box of shells . . . a puppet . . . a medal his grandfather had given him., his football . . . and, last of all, a fresh warm egg from under a hen. Then he calls on Miss Nancy and gives her each thing one by one. Then she starts to remember. The warm egg reminds her of tiny bird eggs she had once found in her aunt's garden. When she puts a shell to her ear, she remembers going to the beach long ago by tram in her button-up shoes. The touch of the medal leads her to talk sadly of her big brother who had gone to war and never returned. The puppet brings a smile to her face as she remembers a puppet that used to make her sister laugh. She bounces the football to Wilfrid Gordon and remembers the day she had met him and the secrets they had told. The story ends, "And the two of them smiled and smiled because Miss Nancy's memory had been found again by a small boy, who wasn't very old either." Using this story as a point of departure, permit me to make a few preliminary observations about dynamic memory. In his quest for the meaning of memory, Wilfrid Gordon finds it has various facets. He hears respectively that it is something you remember, that it is warm, that it is from long ago, that it carries feeling as well as thought (it can make you cry or laugh!) and that it is as precious as gold. As with Miss Nancy, there is in all of us a human tendency to forget. Most are prone especially to spiritual amnesia. Dynamic memo~Ty is the opposite of amnesia. It is the kind of memory that has life and power in the present. Wilfrid Gordon understood that Miss Nancy needed to find her lost memories. We all need to find lost or half-forgotten mem-ories and to be reminded of old ones, lest they fade from con-sciousness. Indeed, it is the function of the Holy Spirit, as Jesus said, to "instruct you in everything, and to remind you of all that I told you On 14:26). It is the work of the Spirit to unfold an ever new understanding, interpretation, and application of the once-and- for-all dream of Jesus. January-February 199Y 51 McCarty * Dynamic Memory's Role There is much locked-up power in the past to affect the pres-ent and the future. Wilfrid Gordon was able to unlock some of that power in Miss Nancy with his little treasures. Each became a reminder for her--the egg, the shells, the medal, the puppet, the football. Often help is needed to reawaken memories so as to activate their power. Little people like Wilfrid Gordon sometimes make better helpers. Sharing faith experiences can trigger forgotten ones in others. There need not be words. Silences can speak. Symbols and rituals reach a deeper level of remembrance. Memory is a gift or grace that enables both personal inte-gration and community. As with Miss Nancy, its loss tends to dis-connect one from previous life experiences and to dismember one from effective community and communication with others. The act of remembering has the power to "remember" what has been dismembered, scattered, disconnected. Wilfrid Gordon enabled Miss Nancy to connect with her past and, in the process, to deepen a bond with him in the present. Obviously, dynamic memory is more than mere mental recall. As with both Wilfrid and Miss Nancy, some memories are happy and some sad. This .kind of rmnembrance affects the whole per-son-- mind, body, and spirit. It is recall that summons feelings as well as facts. As with Miss Nancy, some are happy and need cel-ebration; some are sad and perhaps need healing and integration. Dynamic Memory within a Faith Context By dyna~nic me~nory I mean remembrance that has life and power now. It is the opposite of static memory, that is, memory without life, unable to influence the present or future. It is not rote 2nemory, that is, the ability to commit mere facts to the store-house of memory with or without accompanying meaning. Dynamic memory is more than nostalgia, that is, a fond recollection of and longing for ari idealized something or someone in the past. Often this kind of r~membering can be an escape from the pres-ent. Similar to nostalgia is reminiscence that can range from mere sentimental longing to dwelling in the past to the neglect of the present. Reminiscence is often a recall of something no longer present, a past that is over and done with. Rather, dynamic memory is an active, grace-empowered, lib-erating remembrance that brings the past into the present so as to 52 Review for Religious influence and empower it and to provide hope for the future. For Jews and Christians alike, it is sinful to have a "bad mem-ory," that is to say, to forget God's saving actions in the past. Thus the Passover story is told over and over again. Our Eucharist is celebrated unceasingly. In the Old Testament, remembering is one of the chief vehi-cles of God's dream. Memories are handed down largely through stories. We need to know and to own our own personal and cor-porate stories. Our personal sto-ries take on new and deeper meaning as part of the larger and longer stories of our faith tradi-tion which are really memories of God's graciousness. In the Book of Deuteronomy particularly, the Israelites are summoned to remember God's past mercies as the basis for their present fidelity to the covenant. The role of memory and tradi-tion is often stressed in Deuteronomy with reference to Yahweh's appearance at Mount Horeb where God says: ". Take care and be earnestly on your guard not to forget the things which your eyes have seen, nor let thegn slip from your memory as long as you live, but teach them to your children and to your children's chil-dren" (Dr 4:9). The Hebrew verb to remember means to act on behalf of. It implies bringing what one remembers to life in the present. In so doing, the continuing efficacy of saving events is tapped. If remembering calls for action in the present, memories can be dangerous, something to which martyrs are witness. The Greek word for remembrance is anamnesis. It is used in reference to memories of God's saving intervention in history. In the Eucharistic assembly we hear Jesus' words, "Do this in remem-brance of me." They are an invitation for the worshipping com-munity to appropriate the salvation Christ accomplished once and for all. Story-telling can enrich memory and stimulate imagination. Each little reminder Wilfrid Gordon brought to Miss Nancy evoked its own story. In addition to our corporate stories of God's The act of remembering has the power to "remember" what has been dismembered, scattered, disconnected. January-February 199Y 53 McCarty ¯ Dynamic Memory's Role past mercies, each of us has personal remembrances of God's felt presence and power in our lives and ministries. Importance of Dynamic Memory for Corporate Identity Dynamic memory bonds believers in faith community. Together in faith we are communities of memory and hope. Our worship is grounded in memory. Remembering is an essential dimension of worship. Symbolic action or ritual is a fundamental way of remembering. Through rituals, memories are recalled and connections are made. As a matter of fact, rituals can touch into deeper levels of the psyche than can mere words. This became evident to me on visits with my dad in the clos-ing years of his life when he was afflicted with Alzheimer's disease. For me, it was watching a loved one die in slow motion as the human faculties only gradually shut down. Long after we were able to carry on a coherent conversation, indeed, until the very end, before leaving him I would ask if he wanted me to bless him. Immediately, he'd bow his head and make the sign of the cross as I raised my hand in blessing. It confirmed my belief that religious symbols and rituals, better than words, can evoke response from deeply imbedded values. For Christians, in liturgical acts of remembrance (for exam-ple, sacraments), Christ is truly present. This is especially true for Eucharist in which our memories are taken up into the paschal mystery. It is in memory of Jesus that the church assembles. Importance of Dynamic Memory for Individual Identity Memory is fundamental to personal as well as to corporate identity. It not only enables each of us to hold fast to an identity, but it can also help us to shape it in new ways. As we grow older, we try to piece together a unified self from the fragments of our lives. It is a process that can result in greater openness, inner peace, and wisdom. Dynamic memory is certainly central to personal religious iden-tity. Faith adds an essential dimension to remembrance. Our per-sonal stories take on new meaning as part of a longer and larger story which embraces our stories, deepening and broadening them, giving them context and continuity. It has been said that Jesus came to know himself Out of the religious memory of Israel. 54 Review for Religious In retrospect, dynamic memory reveals God's presence and power in our lives as a kind of personal anamnesis. Retrieving memories of our God experiences helps us find the design of God's particular providence for each of us. It enables us to string the beads of past epiphanies. This heightened sense of previous religious experiences (or better, religious dimensions of human experiences) provides us with a touchstone for testing the authen-ticity of movements within in the process of discernment. Such memories of the past are the basis for confidence in the present and hope for the future. Memories, Imagination, and the Future What of the relationship of memory and imagination in dis-cerning the future and for being coresponsible for shaping it? Concisely put, memories are the stuff of which dreams are made. Creative imagination does not involve creatio ex nihilo (cre-ation from nothing). Only God can do that. Creative imagi.na-tion produces new configurations from the stuff of dynamic memories. We see this, for example, in the ways in which New Testament writers draw from the images, stories, and rituals of the Old Testament. We note it particularly in the way Jesus defines his own identity and mission in the language and personages of the Old Testament, especially of Isaiah. For example, at the begin-ning of his preaching in the synagogue at Nazareth, he read from the Book of Isaiah to claim his own mission: The Spirit of the Lord is upon me; therefore he has anointed me. He has sent me to bring glad tidings to the poor, to proclaim liberty to captives, recovery of sight to the blind and release to prisoners, to announce a year of favor from the Lord . Then he began by saying to them, "Today this Scripture is fulfilled in your hearing" (Lk 4:18, 20. As discerning communities of faith we are bonded by mem-ories and hopes. Our collective and individual memories of God's actions in the past are touchstones in discerning for the future. Processes or Prayerful Reflection/Discernment The need for ongoing prayerful reflection/discernment of past and present becomes all the more important for seeking new January-February 199Y 55 McCarty ¯ Dynamic Memory's Role We are called by virtue of baptism not just to holiness of life, but also to proclaim the Good News in word and deed, to be "walking beatitudes." visions and paradigms. I am referring to intentional efforts to dis-cern the signs of the times. In pursuing the tasks of renewal, much progress has been made by religious groups in discerning and applying two of the criteria for genuine renewal, namely, Gospel values and fo.unding charisms. I am not sure we have become as adept at discerning corporately on the basis of a third criterion frequently men-tioned in renewal documents, namely, the signs of the times. We would do well to collaborate in developing and implementing models of group reflection and discernment so we can responsibly and in ongoing fashion continue to read the signs of the times. By processes of prayerful reflection and discernment, I mean that intentionally and consistently we come together as groups of Christian people to be led by the Spirit in prayerful silence and dia-logue con.cerning our experiences of life and ministry so as to allow these experi-ences to become dynamic memories and occasions of disclosure of God's inten-tions/ desires for us and the people we serve in carrying forward Jesus' redemptive mission. This com-pressed definition bears some unpacking. I am speaking of processes that are dynamic, ongoing, varied, and done together. They are communal ventures, collaborative action in the present, stemming from and productive of genuine spiritual community. This calls for a coming together as Christian people. I see this as an ecumenical project with people bonded by a common bap-tism into Christ's Body to continue his mission of proclaiming the reig

Issue 54.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1995. ; Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ¯ ~,Vashington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1995 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 Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Adv#o~y Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read Joann Wolski Conn PhD Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living No\qt~MBER/DECEMBER 1995 ¯ VOLUME 54 ¯ NUMBER 6 contents 806 apostoJJC Witness Dorothy Kazel OSU: An Eternal Flame Cynthia Glavac OSU draws a portrait of Dorothy Kazel OSU with its spiritual implications for us today. 825 833 future church Opportunity. of the Jubilee Year 2000 Nesto~ Gregoire OMI alerts us to some actions that we might take in r~sponding to Pope Jo]m Paul's apostolic letter on the third millennium. The 1994 Synod: Uniqueness and Challenge Cassian Yuhfius CP gives a perspective on six differences present in the 1994 synod of bishops and three challenges for consecrated life. 851 868 leadership From Usefui Instruments to Willing Agents: Transforming.Leadership for the New Millennium Joseph A. Tetlow SJ reflects on the transformation of leadership through the perspective of five dimensions Religious Life Governance: Personal and Organizational Experiences of Power Beatrice M. Eichten OSF reshapes and reclaims power as a religious reality in view of authority and obedience. 802 Review for Religious 881 904 reJigious life Attachment, Belonging, and Membership: Commitment Style in Male Religious Communities James Halstead OSA draws a picture of the different lived mean-ings of membership in a r~ligious congregation. A Time of Blessing for Brothers Joel Giallanza CSC interprets the present moment in the church as an opportunity to act on the need for the word and witness of male, lay religious life. 913 918 mission The Missionary Heart Regina Siegfried ASC reflects on Precious Blood spirituality as a wellspring of a missionary heart. The Logic and Irony of Success in Mission A. Paul Dominic SJ ponders the Christian meaning of success when it involves missionary efforts. departments 804 Prisms 934 Canonical Counsel: The Potestas of Religious Superiors: Background for Canon 596 941 Book Reviews 950 Indexes to Volume 54 November-December 199Y 803 prisms One of the striking aspects of the pope's recent encyclicals, apostolic exhortations, and papal audience presentations has been their focus on a reconciling or unifying theme. Orientale lumen clearly is a call for even greater efforts in seeking a reconciliation between the Orthodox churches and the Latin-rite Roman church and the Eastern rites in communion with Rome. Ut unum sint looks to a time of unity for all Christian churches, founded on the reconciling role of the bishop of Rome. Justice for past wrongs is not a precondition, only forgiveness. Where liberation theology, in particular, helped the Christian community to see more clearly the necessary relationship of our baptismal faith and justice, the move-ment for human rights in all of its ramifications now appears to be entering a new depth. In the Christian dis-pensation, reconciliation is the heart of divine justice. God's just judgment in the face of human evil and sin takes shape in the reconciling life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. Only through Christian revelation do we find that justice finds its center in reconciliation. That is why St. Paul could exuberantly proclaim that we as ministers of Christ truly are ambassadors of reconciliation. Since the 1971 synod's document on "Justice in the World," there has been a certain amount of turmoil in the church, especially in Latin America, over the shape and direction of justice efforts. Religious life communities wholeheartedly took up the challenge of faith and its rela-tion to justice in their chapters of renewal and in their 804 Review for Religious production of mission documents. Mixed signals of encourage-ment and disapproval came forth from Roman dicasteries, from national episcopal conferences, and sometimes even from a divi-sive foment within a religious congregation itself. For those church congregations and religious life groups which had grown all too comfortable with a Western world middle- and upper-class lifestyle, living a faith that does iustice (and does not escape into a charity-alone approach) is to heed the call to conversion found at the start of each of the gospels. Necessary as this call is for every age, it took on a crucial importance in the post-World War II development of nations, particularly between northern and southern hemispheres. But as our past quarter-century experi-ence has brought home, the human sense of iustice runs inde-pendently of Christian faith, and for lay Catholics as well as for women and men religious iustice efforts can break off from faith roots. Then the result appears as a burnout activism, deeper divi-siveness, and greater iniustice. The call coming to us as we prepare to enter into the new millennium is not a reversal of our Christian efforts to work for a world in which there are more iust relationships among all peo-ples. The call is for us to keep our attention fixed on the heart of all iustice efforts which Christians exercise. An emphasis on righ-teousness only has led in our experience to conflict and further iniustice. Just relations in human living are doomed to frustra-tion and failure without a centering in forgiveness and reconcil-iation. If we ultimately are not about a ministry of reconciliation in our iustice efforts, we are not about a Christian ministry. Perhaps that is why each year we need to hear anew voices from heaven singing out "peace and good will" as we welcome God's own Ambassador of reconciliation. The Review for Religious staff prays that the gift of Christ's peace be given in abundance to all our readers in this Christmas season. David L. Fleming SJ November-December 1995 805 CYNTHIA GLAVAC Dorothy Kazel OSU: An Eternal Flame Note: December 2, 1995 ~narks the l Yth anniversary of the murder of four North American churchwomen, Dorothy Kazel OSU, Jean Donovan, Maura Clarke MM, and Ira Ford MM in E1 Salvador. When people discover that I am a member of the Cleveland Ursulines, the congregation to which Dorothy Kazel also belonged, they usually ask me if I knew Dorothy. Before Dorothy died on 2 December 1980, my association with her had been minimal, even though we had lived six houses apart on the same street in Euclid, Ohio for a few years. However, when Dorothy moved to our street in 1955 as a sixteen-year-old teenager, I was only a year old. And although she might have remem-bered me as "one of the babies on the street," I certainly would not have "remembered her! Five years later she joined my congregation. My first re.collection of actually meeting Dorothy dates back to late spring 1973. At this time, she was min-istering as a guidance counselor at Beaumont School, one of my congregation's high schools, and I was a postulant who had been sent there to experience what we then called Cynthia Glavac OSU presented the substance of this article in a talk at the Second North American Convocation held at Owensboro, Kentucky in July 1995. She is an assistant professor of English at Ursuline College in Cleveland, Ohio. Her address is 137 Ruth Ellen Drive, Bldg. K, Apt. 316; Richmond Heights, Ohio 44143. 806 Review for Religious mission life, as well as to help out in the school until the end of the semester. So, for about five weeks, Dorothy and I lived and worked together as any members of the same local community would. A year later, in July 1974, Dorothy left to begin her missionary min-istry in E1 Salvador. Between that time and December 1980, I saw Dorothy only briefly on several occasions, and the reason why I even saw her was because in 1977 I had been assigned to teach at Beaumont, Dorothy's home base when she came to Cleveland for her yearly vacation. It was not until ten years after Dorothy's d~ath, however, that I really began to get to know her and develop what I now consider a fairly close relationship with her. In late 1989, as I was nearing completion of the coursework and preliminary exams for my doctorate in lit-erature, a iCriend in my congregation, Eileen Collins, suggested I investigate the possibility of writing Dorothy's biography for my disser-tation. The topic of women's biography--that is, biographies of women by women--certainly related to one of my areas of concentration, women's literature, but the members of my dissertation committee told me that I had to write Dorothy's biography within a theoretical framework. Consequently, I chose to research contemporary women's bio-graphical theory and then ",~rite a biography of Dorothy based on these theoretical findings. Two years later, in May 1992, I completed my dissertation, "A Biography of Dorothy Kazel OSU, from the Perspective of Contemporary Women's Biographical Theory." Because I plan to expan.d my dissertation into a full-length biography of Dorothy and l~ublish it, hopefully within the next two years, I have con-tinued my research of Dorothy's life these past three years. The deeper I delve into Dorothy's life and reflect upon it, the more I realize her connectedness to us as religious. Surely she plays an important role in the history of the church, but more significantly, she is a religious for usj'br thefiaure. In this context, I liken her to a flame,~ steadily glowing and unquenchable in its brilliance: What we can learn from the way Dorothy lived her life can light our way, like a beacon, into the twenty-first cen-tury; her words can fire our imaginations to the possibilities of What we can learn from the way Dorothy lived her life can light our way, like a beacon, into the twenty-first century. November-December 1995 807 Glavac ¯ An Eternal Flame religious life and of our lives as religious, even beyond the next century--or the next millennium. This article focuses on three aspects of Dorothy's life from which we can draw inspiration and thus fuel the fire of our vision and commitment to the future as religious: 1) her missionary min-istry; 2) her spirituality; and 3) her personal struggles. Within the context of these three aspects or themes, I also weave the par-ticulars of Dorothy's life as a Cleveland Ursuline, which encom-pass the years 1960-1980. Please understand, though, that these qualities alone in no way render a complete portrait of Doroth~c's character. There's much I have left out! Missionary Ministry On 4 February 1980, for Bartholomew McCaffrey, General Superior of my congregation at the time: Dorothy c6mpleted a congregational questionnaire on personal ministry choice. The statements and questions included on the form asked for infor-mation regarding the past ministry experiences of an individual sis-ter, as well as her preferences for future ministry assignments. In response to the statement, "Check the areas in which you have worked," Dorothy indicated, "disadvantaged, sacramental prepa-ration, individual program, parish school of religion, special edu-cation, deaf, and so forth, adult education, and renewal programs." Following this statement on the form is the question, "In which of the areas mentioned would you like to work or continue to work?" Dorothy's answer is "disadvantaged." A major realization I had about Dorothy after I finished writ-ing her biography and could then clearly see in great detail both the beginning and the final years of her life was that she was able to leave behind the sheltered environment in which she grew up and ultimately extend herself to a distant third-world country. To clarify, Dorothy was born and grew up in a predominantly Lithuanian neighborhood on Cleveland's east side. She socialized primarily with family members and neighbors and attended St. George parish elementary school and then Notre Dame Academy with the same classmates. However, at some point, even before she considered religious life, Dorothy ~hought about working with people whose cultures and life experiences were different from her own. She explained this desire herself in the letter she wrote in which she volunteered to go to E1 Salvador as a missionary. 808 Review for Religious This letter is dated 4 November 1967, and is addressed to Annunciata Witz,.my congregation's General Superior at the time: I have always been of the nature of a person eager to be on the move--to go to new places, to meet new people, to learn to understand these people, and to help them. Before I entered, I traveled to the West Coast four times; it was then that I was first impressed with the Spanish and Indian people. I wanted to stay, get to know them, and help them. I had even "day dreamdd" that ~ny parents would disown me and leave me there. Dorothy never gave up her desire to be a missionary. I real-ized this fact when I closely examined the nine years preceding her ministry in E1 Salvador when she served as a teacher at two of my congregation's high schools, Sacred Heart Academy and Beaumont School. During this time, Dorothy transformed her missionary vocation and transferred it not only to students but also to people outside the two schools. But all of these people were marginalized for some reason. From 1965-1972, Dorothy ministered at Sacred Heart Academy, which was located in the economically poorest area of the three high schools my congregation sponsored at that time. During Dorothy's years at Sacred Heart, she consistently taught business and secretarial courses, but as early as her second year at the school, she began to travel beyond the boundaries of her high school ministry to persons marginalized by physical handicaps, poverty, or race. For example, from 1966-1969, Dorothy taught Catholic doctrine to the deaf on Saturday mornings at a nearby parish and served at the Martin de Porres Center, located in one of the poorest sections of Cleveland; during the summer of 1969, she taught Catholic doctrine to Native Americans of the Papago Tribe in Topawa, Arizona. In 1970, Dorothy began work on a master's degree in guidance and counseling so that she could help yet another sector of the marginalized. Because of financial difficulties, Sacred Heart Academy closed in June 1972. Dorothy was then assigned to teach and do coun-seling at Beaumont School where she remained for the next two years. Although most of the girls Dorothy counseled at Beaumont were from upper and upper-middle class economic levels, and therefore not materially poor, they had their own set of unique problems that included drug and alcohol abuse and difficult fam-ily situations. Because of Dorothy's compassion, understanding, November-December 199~ 809 Glavac ¯ An Eternal Flame and natural ability to relate to young people, many of these girls turned to her for direction at all hours of the day and night. When she was not counseling Beaumont students, Dorothy volunteered her services at the Workhouse, a women's correctional facility, and at Sunny Acres, a hospital for chronically ill patients. Although Dorothy was a fine classroom teacher at both Sacred Heart Academy and Beaumont School, I believe that working with the disadvantaged and the marginalized was a natural thing for her to do. By the time she got to E1 Salvador, then, in July 1974 with Martha Owen OSU,2 Dorothy fit in very well with both the seasoned missionaries and the na.tive people. And she quickly understood how to minister to the Salvadoran people, as is evi-denced by the following excerpt from a letter she wrote to the sisters of Beaumont Convent: We know perhaps better than any Ursuline how important these contributions are3 to the lives of our 51,000 parish-ioners whom we are trying to help realize their full dignity as persons, new persons capable of reaching full develop-ment through their ability to read and write. This will make accessible to them the ways of learning and the rich pos-session of truth, both human and divine, that we enjoy. W'e hope to help them become people who can "rule the earth," that is to say, people who are able to tame the land and put it at the service of humanity (hereafter cited as L2). Dorothy loved and was dedicated to the people of El Salvador, as another section of the same letter reveals: So we continue, living through earthquakes, eating beans and tortillas in the cantones, taking attempted suicide vic-tims to the hospital, walking in dust or water up to our ankles (depends on the season), removing knifed victims from the main streets, building houses, demolishing and rebuilding churches, enduring the heat and mosquitoes, fighting malaria and dysentery and just generally having a great time in the name of the Ursulines and the Christ who is Lord! (L2). That Dorothy loved her ministry in E1 Salvador is further apparent by her desire to remain there, during the late 1970s and 1980, in the midst of increasing government oppression and vio-lence. In order to fully comprehend the nature of Dorothy's mis-sionary ministry, particularly during her last year in E1 Salvador, and ultimately, why she was murdered by the Salvadoran mili-tary, one must be generally familiar with the historico-political background of the country during the 1970s. What follows is a 810 Review for Religious brief sketch of this background. But because E1 Salvador's polit-ical situation, both past and present, is very complex, my expla-nation is in no way complete or definitive. Although E1 Salvador has had a long history of domination by a ruling oligarchy, a military government had been in power since 1932. In the early 1970s, resistance to this government began to appear. Left-wing opposition groups con-sisting of militant peasants, students, teach-ers, and workers, supported by the Salvadoran Catholic Church, emerged to campaign for basic social and economic reforms.4 The members of these groups were viewed by the government as anar-chists, terrorists, fanatics, and communists. Among the latter group, the communists, the government included priests, sisters, and lay catechists. At this time, organized left-wing ter-rorism also appeared as guerrilla groups formed throughout the country. The Salvadoran government responded to this and other types of rebellion with increased acts of violence and repression. This government sponsored violence grew to epi-demic proportions in 1977 (Carrigan, p. 10). The first attack against the Catholic Church was delivered in March of that year with the murder of Rutilio Grande, a Salvadoran Jesuit. Organized, systematic persecution of union members, profes-sionals, and teachers, as well as of laborers and campesinos,s began in the spring with the appearance of the first professional death squads. Composed of former and present members of the security forces, these roving squads kidnapped and brutally murdered any-one, including children, who they suspected had supported or expressed sympathy for any of the left-wing opposition groups. As a fright tactic, the death squads published death lists and disfig-ured and dismembered the bodies of their victims. To these muti-lated bodies, death squad members attached notes which claimed, "If you bury this body, ydu, too,will be tortured and killed." Despite reports of these atrocities and other government-spon-sored barbarisms, the United States government approved a 90 million-dollar loan to the Salvadoran government in November 1977 (Carrigan, pp. 89-90). As a fright tactic, the death squads published death lists and disfigured and dismembered the bodies of their victims. November-December 1995 811 Glavac ¯ An Eternal Flame By late 1979, increasing conflicts between the Salvadoran army and guerrilla groups developed into a full-blown civil war. To root out members of the popular leftist organizations and guerrilla groups from their rural bases, the army conducted "anti-subversive campaigns," which evolved into systematic programs of terror, aimed at depopulating regional villages and burning crops in order to create starvation conditions. At times, entire villages were bombed by the Salvadoran Air Force (Carrigan, p. 169). Such oppressive tactics, and the regular skirmishes which occurred between the army and the guerrilla groups, produced large numbers of refugees fleeing from their villages, often with little more than they could carry. A particular area or town was frequently the scene of confrontations between the fighting fac-tions. One such town was Chalatenango. Because the guerrillas had established bases in the mountainous terrain and the sur-rounding mountains of this northern town, it was victimized by the counterinsurgency tactics of the security forces. During all of this political upheaval and violence, Dorothy and the other members of the Cleveland Latin American Mission Team continued their pastoral ministry to the suffering salvado-ran people as unobtrusively as possible by planning and organiz-ing celebrations of the Eucharist and other liturgies, preparing adults and children for the reception of the sacraments, and man-aging food distribution programs. However, by 1980, the team's ministry expanded to include recovering and burying the mutilated remains of death-squad victims and transporting food, supplies, and sometimes refugees, to refugee centers around San Salvador. By this time, Jean Donovan had been a member of the Cleveland team for a year. She and Dorothy lived and ministered in the southern coastal town of La Libertad, where the Cleveland diocesan mission team had a parish, but they spent a portion of their time transporting refugees and supplies in their white Toyota van throughout the Chalatenango area for Maryknoll Sisters Maura Clarke and Ita Ford who were ministering there but had no means of transportation. On the morning of 2 December 1980, Dorothy and Jean pur-chased and transported supplies for refugees, which, unknown to them, would be the last time they would ever perform such a min-istry. That evening they drove to the Cuscatlan International Airport, located about a half hour from La Libertad, to pick up Maura and Ira who had returned together from a regional meet- 812 Review for Religious ing of Maryknoll sisters in Nicaragua. Because it was too late and too dangerous to make the four-hour trip to Chalatenango from the airport, Dorothy and Jean had decided that Maura and Ira would spend the night with them in La Libertad. Shortly after they met Maura and Ira, however, all four women were abducted by five members of the Salvadoran National Guard. The women were later raped, and finally shot execu-tion- style by the same guardsmen in a deserted field, one hour from the airport. From Dorothy's missionary min-istry- all the different forms it took---I think we can learn several valuable lessons that are especially relevant for us now and in the future. First of all, Dorothy went where there was a need, even when she did not want to go. For example, she did not want to teach on the secondary level. Before Dorothy joined the Ursulines she had earned an elementary teaching certificate and had taught third grade for one year. So, when she was assigned to teach high school, she was confused and disap-po. inted. Nevertheless, Dorothy taught high school for nine years and taught typing and business courses, something she also did not want to do. And when the time came for her to go to E1 Salvador, Dorothy had serious doubts about whether or not she really wanted to go, because at the time, she was involved in her counseling at Beaumont School and had grown to love the girls there. Another aspect of Dorothy's ministry that is particularly valid for us is her desire to find marginalized persons wherever she ministered and to take care of their special needs. Surely we can do the same in a society fraught with so many victims of poverty, abuse, and discrimination. Finally, in her ministry--actually, in whatever she did-- Dorothy took risks. Breaking her yearlong engagement to join the Cleveland Ursulines, venturing beyond the familiar walls of her high-school classroom to minister to Native Americans in Arizona, trying a recipe for chocolate chip cookies in E1 Salvador's Another aspect of Dorothy's ministry that is particularly valid for us is her desire to find marginalized persons wherever she ministered and to take care of their special needs. November-December 1995 813 Glavac ¯ An Eternal Flame 100÷ degree weather, or experimenting with new prayer styles-- Dorothy did them all, including, of course, the ultimate risk of remaining in E1 Salvador. One of Dorothy's final acts of ministry there--feeding and transporting refugees with Jean Donovan in the wartorn, guerrilla-infested area of Chalatenango--was a par-ticularly serious risk because she fully understood that the Salvadoran military considered any alliance with the poor a "sub-versive" act against the government. She and Jean also realized that they could be accused of consorting with guerrillas. Even their association with Maura and Ita entailed some risk, as both of the Maryknoll Sisters had received death threats and were being closely watched by a Salvadoran army colonel stationed in Chalatenango. The many risks Dorothy took throughout her life give me much pause to consider my own amount of risk-taking and to evaluate it. In our world today, and certainly in the future, I think that we have many opportunities to take risks. Spirituality For me, the most inspiring part of Dorothy's life is her spir-ituality. Before I began doing detailed research for Dorothy's biography, I assumed that she must have had a developed spiritual life simply because of her desire to remain in E1 Salvador. Living daily in the midst of a civil war and witnessing the brutal killing of many innocent people would require gospel-centered motiva-tions, a strong faith, and a consistent prayer life, I reasoned. But when I began reading Dorothy's journals, I discovered the foun-dation of that deep spirituality she had attained by the time she arrived in E1 Salvador. After meditating myself now for some years on Dorothy's spiritual life while she ministered as an Ursuline in Cleveland (diaries from her time in E1 Salvador sur-vive but no prayer journals),61 can describe various qualities of her spirituality at that time focusing on three that have particular appeal to us as religious now and for the future. The first quality is prayer. From the time Dorothy was a child and throughout her young adulthood, prayer was an important part of her spirituality. She attended daily Mass and said her rosary and other prayers daily. VVhen she became an Ursuline, however, prayer formed the backbone of her spiritual life. What she wanted to gain from prayer--and these ideas can be gleaned from read-ing her journals and her spiritual-reading notes--was develop- 814 Review for Religious ment of her relationship with God, imitation of Jesus, and response to God's will for her. Dorothy's personal written reflections reveal her fidelity to prayer as well as her belief in its importance in her life. The ear-liest account of Dorothy's opinion regarding devotion to prayer appears in retreat resolutions she made prior to her first profes-sion on 13 August 1963: How must I act as an Ursuline? ¯ As one who knows and loves God, for this is my specialty and can be a'chieved through prayer. ¯ All I do must show this, for this is my life! Resolve ¯ I desire to acquire a "spirit of prayer" . . . which will help me prove myself as an Ursuline--a true lover of God. Shortly after Dorothy moved to Sacred Heart Academy in August 1965, she kept a written record of her prayer life for sev-eral days before she began to teach. In most of the entries, she lists each of her prayer praF.tices and briefly evaluates her participation in them. Below is an example, dated 27 August: 1. Mo~'ning Office: distracted, drowsy 2. Mass: half awake 3. Examen: not pinpointed 4. Office: carelessly said 5. Stations: too fast 6. Recollection through day: poor--very distracted! In later journal entries, Dorothy makes resolutions regard-ing prayer. The following are from June 1973: "to make an avid study of' ChriSt through reading scripture daily SO that I may learn of His attitudes and make them my own; to do my half-hour meditation daily without failure" (hereafter cited as J6). The few diaries Dorothy kept while she was in E1 Salvador contain little comme~nt about her prayer life. However, Martha Owen, who ministered with Dorothy in E1 Salvador for five years, recalls, "Especially in th~ later years, Dorothy. took her Bible, and she meditated, every single day. She always wanted to know God's will, and she always prayed about it. She never made deci-sions for herself without getting some input from prayer." ~ Another quality of Dorothy's spirituality I noticed is that it constantly grew and evolved because, of her openness to new prayer styles and cbncep!s. Again,' when I examined Dorothy's November-December 199~ 815 Glavac ¯ An Eternal Flame writings, I initially saw a preVatican II spirituality. In notes she recorded from retreats she made from 1961 through 1966, Dorothy wrote: "vows and rules: means of perfection" (2 August 1961, hereafter cited at J 1); "exterior mortification: silence, mod-esty, self-denial; interior mortification: discipline of mind, will, imagination, and control over passions" (3 August 1961, J 1); and "offer now your death to God! (3 August 1963, hereafter cited as J2);Joy follows death to self!" (9 August 1963,J2). When she first arrived at Sacred Heart Academy in August 1965, Dorothy wrote: "Examen better than yesterday; if I can but become more con-scious of all I should be striving to perfect myself in." The subject and tone of Dorothy's writings change dramati-cally, however, in 1967 when they acquire a definite postVatican II flavor. That summer, during retreat, Dorothy wrote: A real Christian is: ¯ dominated by the presence of the Risen Christ (knows that the living Christ is here; knows that the living Christ is real) ¯ a person with a mission to the world of 1967: loves the world; is caught up with the world; must be equipped with solid learning and mature love; makes use of natural history and philosophy of our time; listens with an open heart ¯ a person who lives in the here and now. Listen to others--don't think about what you will answer. In the late 1960s and early 1970s, Dorothy became involved in the charismatic movement. Her manner of praying, expressed in her journals, reflects this new style. In June 1973, Dorothy wrote: "to remainfi'ee and open to the Spirit; to listen to what He speaks and then act on it" (16 June 1973,J6). On 20 March 1974, she wrote: The more you love Jesus and the more open you are with Him--the more lovable and beautiful all the rest of mankind becomes. Praise you, Jesus, for showing yourself so vividly and openly. I love you more because of all the love I expe-rience in people (hereafter cited as J8). Although Dorothy's spirituality grew steadily and evolved during the twenty years she was an Ursuline, there was a con-stant about it, something that did not change. This is her desire for union with God. Again, I saw this lifelong desire reflected in her personal writing. For example, in September 1970, Dorothy wrote: 816 Review for Religiotts Heavenly Father, I place myself in your hands. Lavish your love on me as I need to be strengthened. I am weak--I need you . I feel empty--void. Fill up this chasm with you. Lord, that I may be one with you and in you . Open my eyes, my ears--all my senses--so that they may draw you in so that I may more and more become you. Rid me of myself, Lord--it is not an asset, for it often gets in the way of you. Purify me--make me single-minded--all for you. Four years later, Dorothy wrote: I keep watching these two wooden pieces, Jesus. My theory did not seem to hold true--they did not burst into a flam-ing holocaust for you. No, they slowly, quietly became filled with the heat and burned through the center. Maybe that's more real, Lord. Maybe we just slowly become filled with you, and when it reaches the core of our being, and there is no more we can absorb, we transcend to another being; to another way of unity; to the way for which we are longing to be with you; to the way for which we came into being. Praise you, Jesus, and thank you for such a total consuming love. Envelope me in it now. Make me one with you (19 January 1974, JS). The older I get, the harder it is for me to believe that Dorothy was only 41 years old when she died. She was whole in so many areas of her life, especially in terms of her spirituality. She knew the essence of religious life, I believe, and was therefore not caught up in exter-nals. God truly was the center of her life. Her efforts to make God her center were not half-baked or mechanical. I am reminded here of something Dorothy wrote in her journal in November 1970: Overcome J?ar of. ¯ going into deep waters: Be courageous, open. ¯ going into the depths of the V~rord: Meditate in the morning. ¯ living the crucified, disciplined life: Accept suffering graciously, willingly. ¯ submitting to one another: Listen, be open. ¯ laying down [lmy] life in very service to others. ¯ letting the cross of Christ cut into [my] very soul: Love the cross--accept it totally--it is He. And Dorothy did much in her brief life, and there was much change in her life. But the stillpoint in all of this movement was her spiritual life. I think that this is her message to us--I know it is to me--that in such a quickly changing world as ours is today, in which few things are stable or permanent, our spirituality is our only stillpoint. November-December 1995 817 Glavac ¯ An Eternal Flame If I have learned anything about Dorothy, it is that she struggled throughout most of her life. Personal Struggles As a biographer, when I look at Dorothy's life, I see it lin-early: There are many parts that form a whole, and most of the parts seem related, and they therefore seem to fit together. When I look at her life from this perspective, I am very tempted to say, "Hmmm--she must have had a plan for her life; surely she must have known what she was doing at just about every step of the way." But any biographer, me included, who delves into the character of her or his subject, which cannot be mapped linearly, knows that this supposition simply is not true. If I have learned anything about Dorothy, it is that she struggled throughout most of her life. Some of Dorothy's struggles involved decisions she had to make, such as should she marry or follow a call to religious life? Soon after she began to attend St. John College in 1957, two important events happened to Dorothy: She met Cleveland Ursuline Sisters for the first time (she had had Franciscans in elementary school and Notre Dame Sisters in high school), and she also met Don Kollenborn, a youhg soldier from Bakersfield, California, who was stationed in Cleveland. She and Don began dating shortly before Christmas of that year. In the spring of 1958, Dorothy met more Cleveland Ursulines, this time at St. Robert's elementary school where she did field work for her education courses. One year later, in the spring of 1959, Dorothy and Don were engaged. They planned, to marry on 5 August 1960 and pro-ceeded to make wedding plans. That summer Dorothy got a job teaching the third grade at St. Robert School. In the midst of all this activity--and nobody knows exactly when--Dorothy began to feel attracted to religious life. In March of the following year, 1960, she made a retreat for engaged women; and ironically, this experience convinced her that she might indeed have a religious vocation. By this time, Don had returned to California, ~o Dorothy called him and told him what she was con-sidering. He flew to Cleveland immediately, stayed at the Kazel home for a week, and he and Dorothy spent thousands of hours (as he told me) discussing her desire to enter the convent. The months that followed were difficult, certainly for Don, but also for Dorothy, who, naturally, questioned herself and her 818 Review for Religious motives. As Don told me, "Dorothy worried about whether she would be able to follow the rules that she had to live with and was she really supposed to be a nun or not.''8 Apparently, Dorothy found the answers to her questions, for on 29June, she applied to my congregation. She returned Don's engagement ring in July. Another decision Dorothy had to make was what type of min-istry would she do in Cleveland when she returned from E1 Salvador? She was considering ministering to Hispanic people in Cleveland, but she is not certain about this, as she explained to Martha Owen in a taped (cassette) "letter" of January 1980: I probably would like the Hispanic work . I don't know. You know, I just don't know what my problem is--I just don't know--I have no inclination to any special area . I feel obliged and probably feel more inclined toward Beaumont simply because that's where I have come from, and I have at least some security there. But I don't know-- I just don't know. Isn't that terrible? I've been like this for so long, and I keep praying about it, but I just don't know what the Lord has in plan (hereafter cited as L3). Dorothy was also concerned about adapting to large-group community life again. Later, in the same letter quoted above, she clailns: I got a note from Sister Bartholomew at Christmas, and she said, "You really shouldn't feel an obligation to have to go to Beaumont." After talking to Sheila [Tobbe, one of our sisters currently ministering in El Salvador], there is so much to do there, and . . . it's not that it wouldn't be interesting, but the whole house structure does worry me, and it's been a problem . That's my biggest thing: I don't know if I'm going to be able to put up with this living in community business either (L3). Some of Dorothy's struggles involved situations about which she felt helpless, such as her father's alcoholism. Because Dorothy and her father shared a close relationship, when he drank, she got especially hurt and upset. As a young person, Dorothy also got angry at her father and would then experience guilt for feeling this way. When she got older, and particularly after she began working on her master's degree in guidance and counseling, Dorothy better understood her father's behavior and her reac-tion to it. However, his dependency on alcohol was a lifelong source of sorrow for her. Dorothy also certainly felt helpless about the political situa-tion in E1 Salvador during her final years there as she witnessed November-December 199~ 819 Glavac ¯ An Eternal Flame unrelenting violence and the slaughter of many innocent people she had come to love. In an effort to help alleviate the suffering and bloodshed, Dorothy appealed to our United States govern-ment to discontinue sending military aid to the Salvadoran gov-ernment. On 23 September 1980, she wrote a letter to then President Jimmy Carter. After she described scenes in which Salvadoran soldiers had terrorized innocent villagers, Dorothy wrote: Now I realize these soldiers are looking for "subversives," and they may have a right to do that--but do they have a right to do it in this manner? Do they realize how many really innocent people they kill because they have received wrong information? Do they investigate the information they received before they come and kill people? And the most appalling thing to me is that I am a North American, and MY government gave them money for the "durable equipment" they have so that it's relatively easy to get into the worst cantones9 without much trouble and kill innocent people because of the wrong information they have received. I really would like to know what you think of this sit-uation, Mr. President, and whether you really realize how many innocent people we are helping to kill. How do you reconcile all of this? About a month later, in another taped (cassette) "letter" to Martha Owen, Dorothy describes the great difference in artillery strength between the Salvadoran military forces and the guerrilla groups: It's like Indians against the United States Marines today. Really, I don't know how these guys are ever going to win this war. These guys are nothing but campesino guys . . . they all either have rifles or pistols, but the rifles are like overgrown BB guns. I just wonder how this is all going to turn out . And, you know, nay heart just aches for these people when I see what they've got to work with. And they're really hoping to win. I just don't know how these guys think they're going to do it when we're giving money ¯. so they [the military] can get up there easier to kill these guys . It just makes me ill when I see us doing this kind of garbage. In early November, Dorothy received a reply to the letter she had written to Jimmy Carter. John D. Blacken, Director of the Office of Central American Affairs, signed the letter dated 7 November 1980. Portions of it read: 820 Review for Religious We deplore the violence in El Salvador which is continuing at a high level . In such situations involving widespread violence from a variety of sources, it is tragic that innocent people become the victims. Nevertheless, the government's plans for elections and reforms are moving forward and may succeed in alleviating some of the conditions which have spawned the violence. The letter completely sidesteps the issue of American military aid to the Salvadoran government, as Dorothy must have noticed. We will never know what she thought, however, for less than a month later, Dorothy was dead--shot, most likely, with a bullet that had been manufactured in the United States. At various points in her life, Dorothy questioned her own self-image as well as her self-confidence. At the end of her retreat before her final profession in August 1968, Dorothy wrote the following resolution: "to accept the person I am with all my weaknesses and not to pretend that I don't have them." Several years later, when she was at Beaumont, Dorothy wrote in her journal, "I still wonder why people don't like me. Do I come on too strong?" (4 January 1974, JS). Another entry reads, "Sometimes I feel totally incapable of doing anything. Many things that I want are not what God wants for me. I have not fully accepted myself and my limitations. Sometimes I feel I do not belong to this community--I feel people 'like' me--they do not love me because I do not have much to offer." Because of all I have learned about Dorothy in these past few years, I have found much to admire about her. But her insecuri-ties and struggles endeared her to me even more and brought her down a few notches on Before her final profession in August 1968, Dorothy wrote the following resolution: "to accept the person I am with all my weaknesses and not to pretend that I don't have them." that pedestal that she had been slowly ascending since her death. Here was a human, ordinary person, I discovered--one to whom I as well as many others could relate, for who does not struggle today? In what other ways has Dorothy personally touched me? In her I have found a role model for my own life. I look to Dorothy mainly as an example of a courageous woman whose particular November-Deconber 1995 821 Glavac ¯ dn Eternal Flame brand of courage included risk-taking. When I fear taking risks, I contemplate the many risks Dorothy took, in particular the one which ultimately led to her death, and I am encouraged to travel beyond the familiar into unknown territory. During my times of complacency and passivity, I am bolstered by Dorothy's spirit of adventure and independence. For me, too, Dorothy is an exam-ple of a faith-filled religious woman who strove to make central what she felt was most important in her life: her spirituality. In short, for me and my life as a religious, Dorothy is an "eternal flame," and I will look to her wisdom and guidance to light my way into the future. Epilogue Although fifteen years have passed since Dorothy and her companions were murdered, my Ursuline congregation, Dorothy's family, and the American people in general, have never learned what happened on the night of 2 December 1980, and who is actu-ally responsible for the women's deaths. However, there is evi-dence that our government and the Salvadoran government covered up the crime within days of its occurrence.'° Information about the murders uncovered by our government's investigation was either never released to us, such as the manufacturer of the bullet fragments taken from Dorothy's body or only partially released to us--that is, two-thirds of the reports sent to us from the State Department and the FBI were edited with heavy, dark lines. Three-and-a-half years after the murder of the women, and only because our government conditioned its economic and mil-itary support to E1 Salvador on the resolution of this case, a trial was held on 23-24 May 1984, in E1 Salvador, and five national guardsmen were found guilty and sentenced to thirty years impris-onment. They remain in prison today because the Salvadoran Supreme Court ruled that the killings of the women were not political, and therefore, not covered by the amnesty passed by the Salvadoran National Assembly in 1992.'~ Although there is sufficient evidence to prove that high-ranking officers in the Salvadoran military planned in advance and then ordered the murder of Dorothy, Jean, Maura, and Ira,'2 nothing has been done by the United States or the Salvadoran government to implicate and punish these officers. Currently, our government continues to 822 Review for Religious supply military aid to E1 Salvador as well as train members of its military at the United States School of the Americas, Fort Benning, Georgia.'3 If the truth of Dorothy's life and death has spoken to us, we will tell this story of ongoing violence and oppression, and the flame will surely continue to burn.14 Notes ~ I choose fire as a metaphor for Dorothy because of her outgoing per-sonality, zealous attitude toward whatever task she undertook, involvement with the church's charismatic movement (see "Spirituality" section of article), and of course, the crucible of her martyrdom. The image of fire was also a favorite one of Dorothy's when she wrote about her growth in spirituality (see journal entry of 19 January 1974, also in "Spirituality" sec-tion of article). 2 Dorothy and Martha were the second pair of sisters my congrega-tion sent to El Salvador. The first pair had gone in 1968. 3 In 1976 my congregation's silver jubilarians donated their gift money to the diocesan mission in El Salvador. These are the contributions Dorothy refers to here. 4 Ana Carrigan, Salvador Witness: The Life and Calling of Jean Donovan (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1984), pp. 81-82. s A campesino is a landworker. In Latin America campesinos own so very little land that they are unable to support their families and conse-quently become dependent on nearby landowners. 6 Martha Owen OSU claims that Dorothy was keeping a personal journal up until her death. The journal was lost, however, in the trans-ference of Dorothy's personal effects from El Salvador to the United States after her murder. 7 Martha Owen OSU personal interview, 15 Oct. 1990. ~ Donald Kollenborn, telephgne interview, 17 Sept. 1991. 9 The term cantone means outpost. The villages and casarios (little group of houses) were cantones or outposys of the larger towns and cities. l0 Although it had been chronicled in various newspaper and magazine articles in the early years following the murders of the women, the story of the cover up of this crime had also been well-documented in a series of reports entitled Justice in El Salvador: A Case Study, A Report on the Investigation into the Killing of Four U.S. Churchwomen inEl Salvador which was published by The Lawyers Committee for International Human Rights from December 1980 to May 1984. Ana Carrigan also wrote about the cover up extensively in her Salvador Witness: The Life and Calling of Jean Donovan (Simon and Schuster, 1984). *~ I mean not political in an ironic sense; existing evidence, especially that evidence which was deliberately withheld leads to the conclusion that the murders were political. November-December 199Y 823 Glavac ¯ An Eternal Flame ~2 The United Nations-sponsored El Salvador Commission on the Truth ("Truth Commission"), whose purpose was to investigate human rights abuses during El Salvador's twelve-year civil war, published a report in March 1993 which confirmed the involvement of high-ranking Salvadoran officers in the murders of the four women. ~3 Three of the national guardsmen who murdered the four women are graduates of the school. ~4 For more information on the School of the kanericas, contact School of the Americas Watch, P.O. Box 3330, Columbus, Georgia 31903; Phone: (706) 682-5369; Fak: (706) 685-0280. A Different Spirit I want to tell you this: The moment will surely come when the Holy Spirit will be within you: a wild goose stretching and straining through storms with her taut body, determined. For that moment there will be nothing dove about the Spirit as she fiercely leads you through wholesome refusals and undreamt-of surrenders out into those wonderfully clear choices within the boundaries of which you will land so awkwardly; but you will be like her: exhilarated in your every part by such strong-wingdd full-feathered single-hearted fligh!! Bernadette McCarrick RSM 824 Review for Religious NESTOR GREGOIRE Opportunity of the Jubilee Year 2000 Immersed in my cultural sense that time is almost exclu-sively quantitative, I shared much of the cynical touch that was brought to any discussion of the year 2000. This appeared to be much ado about one more calendar year. A serious reading of Pope John Paul's apostolic let-ter Tertio Millenio Adveniente (10 November 1994) which launched preparations for the Great Jubilee changed all this. This document offers the opportunity to celebrate and share our faith within and outside the church. We have been given a piece of sheet music; now it is time for all committed Christians, religious and lay, to make the music that the vision of the jubilee year 2000 scores for us. Be Bold The great gift of this apostolic letter is its strong, pos-itive tone and encouragement for all of Christianity (cer-tainly not limited to the Catholic Church) to celebrate the entry into the new millennium as a time to celebrate and deepen our share in the Incarnation of God among us. Even though a strong academic background can give the tools of serious literary analysis, the mere under-standing of words, phrases, and sentences is always incom- Nestor Gregoire OMI can be addressed at: Box 1438; Battleford, Saskatchewan; Canada S0M 0E0. November-December 1995 825 Gregoire ¯ Opportunity of the Jubilee Year2000 plete when an official document is studied. All official documents have a "spirit" that may be imprecise, but it is very real and effec-tive within the life of the church at large. Nowhere in the apostolic letter is a command for the church to celebrate this jubilee. Everywhere there is a strong encour-agement; "Rejoice. Make real the great graces God has done among us." The letter does not set limitations but rather offers positive motivation to enter more deeply into the salvation of God among us. This is not a uniform program designed by people in the high levels of church bureaucracy. It is rather an open-ended invitation to become more what God wants to happen in Christ Jesus in our world today. The letter wi'ites about joy: The term jubilee speaks of joy; not just an inner joy but a jubilation which is manifested outwardly, for the coming of God is also an outward, visible, audible, and tangible event, as St. John made clear (1 Jn 1:1). It is thus appropriate that every sign of joy at this coming should have its own outward expression. This will demonstrate that the church rejoices in salvation. She invites everyone to rejoice, and she tries to create conditions to ensure that the power of salvation may be shared by all (§16). As I read through the letter I found myself stopping for a few moments: Now, how can I make this tangible in our parish com-munity? What can the parish do to express joy in the jubilee.year? The challei~ge broadens our imagination. Christ Centered The letter of John Paul seeks to bring the church to a deeper appreciation of the unique importance of salvation brought by God, past and today. "The fact that in the fullness of time the Eternal Word took on the condition of a creature gives a unique cosmic value to the event which took place in Bethlehem two thousand years ago . . . and it is .the same Word who, by taking flesh, renews the cosmic order of creation" (§3). The vision of the jubilee year is that Christ continues to give meaning, hope and direction to humanity. God is as much at work within our history in the latter part of the 90s as he was at the birth of Jesus. God's activity does not slow down and cease with the accumulation of the calendar years. 826 Review for Religious The Objective of the Jubilee The letter describes the jubilee in these words: Everything ought to focus on the primary objective of the jubilee: the strengthening of faith and of the witness of Christians. It is therefore necessary to inspire in all the faithful a true longing for holiness, a deep desire for con-version and personal renewal in a context of ever more intense prayer and of solidarity with one's neighbor, espe-cially the most needy" (§42). The turning of a millennium offers reflection on the meaning of time. Time is not merely chronological. It has salvific meaning. "In Jesus Christ, the Word made flesh, time becomes a dimension of God" (§10). Time is never empty of God's purpose. "From this relationship of God with time there arises the duty to sanctify time" (§ 10). With this sense of God's redeeming power in time, the move-ment to the third millennium is the opportunity to celebrate and enter more deeply into the eternal plan of salvation. The prepa-rations that we are called upon to begin are a specific means to deepen the participation of all humanity in God's redemption of humanity. Rooted in the Church All the preparations and the actual jubilee are clearly linked with the best efforts of the church to renew itself. There is no breaking new ground here. Rather the letter offers new energy to the renewal sought by the Second Vatican Council. "The best preparation for the new millennium, therefore, can only be expressed in a renewed commitment to apply, as faithfully as pos-sible, the teachings of Vatican II to the life of every individual and of the whole church" (§20). Repentance as the Door Some Catholics may be surprised at the openness to past fail-ures and sins within the church expressed in the document. Repentance is a necessary partner in the jubilee year. "She cannot cross the threshold of the new millennium without encouraging her children to purify themselves, through repentance, of past errors and instances of infideli~, inconsistency and slowness to act" (§33). November-December 1995 827 Gregoire ¯ Opportunity of the Jubilee Year 2000 Our parish communities will be asked to cover new ground if they take to heart the teachings of this apostolic letter. "The church should become more fully conscious of the sinfulness of her children, recalling all those times in history when they departed from the spirit of Christ and his Gospel and, instead of offering to the world the witness of a life inspired by the values of faith, indulged in ways of thinking and acting which were truly forms of counter-witness and scandal" (833). A parish commu-nity might spend prayerful time identifying the ways that we have It is a time for the church to continue seeking for what is just and truthful in the world, even if the church herself is made uncomfortable by her own questions about justice. failed as a church and publicly ask for-giveness, even it is be only within the local parish community. It will take a brave spirit to openly admit past sins. Repentance does not stop with the evils of our history. We are seriously chal-lenged to be responsible for the evils of today. "Many cardinals and bishops expressed the desire for a serious exami-nation of conscience above all on the part of the church today. Christians need to place themselves humbly before the Lord and examine themselves on the responsibility which they too have for the evils of our day" (836). How do we identify and take owner-ship for our complicity in the shadow side of society and the many troubles in the world? Timid or polarized parish communities may not be able to handle this one. It could become too explosive. Mature parish communities will be able to speak to the ways that Christians are a source of oppression and sin in today's world. Risk Taking The spirit of the document clearly shows that the church and the preparations for the jubilee are anything but timid. It is a time for the church to continue seeking for what is just and truth-ful in the world, even if the church herself is made uncomfortable by her own questions about justice. A thoughtful reading shows that the church herself will be challenged by many of the questions that she asks of the modern world. 828 Review for Religious Preparations for the jubilee year involve taking risks within the church. This can happen in three ways: 1. Christianity is making great strides in understanding and building new bridges to the great religions of the world. Not everyone is comfortable with the official position that hopes "the eve of the year 2000 will provide a great opportunity, especially in view of the events of recent decades, for interreligious dialogue. In this dialogue the Jews and the Muslims ought to have a preeminent place. God grant that as a confirmation of these intentions it may also be possihle to hold joint meetings in places of significance for the great monotheistic religions (§53). Will this hope meet with sharp criticism from within the church? How do we enter into interreligious dialogue when we have been in such sharp opposition for centuries? This is cer-tainly breaking into the new territory. 2. The jubilee will certainly be a time to give strong empha-sis to the "church's preferential option for the poor and the out-cast." But will anyone be brave enough to go further with the teaching of this document? Are the people of the church willing to deal with the following challenge? "Christians will have to raise their voice on behalf of all the poor of the world, proposing the jubilee as an appropriate time to give thought, among other things, to reducing substantially, if not canceling outright, the international debt which seriously threatens the future of many nations (§51). The third risk involves women and family rights: 3. "The jubilee can also offer an opportunity for reflecting on other challenges of our time, such as the difficulties of dia-logue connected with respect for women's rights and the promo-tion of the family and marriage" (§51). 1997 - Year One: Jesus Christ The letter proposes a three-year period of reflection on the Trinity. The jubilee is clearly Christological in spirit. The general theme proposed for the first year is: "Jesus Christ, the one Saviour of the world, yesterday, today and forever" (§40). During this first year there is to be a renewed appreciation of Christ and a "deeper understanding of the mystery of the Incarnation and of Jesus' birth from the Virgin Mary" (§40). As November-December 199Y 829 Gregoire * Opportunity of tbe 3~ubilee Year 2000 part of this year of preparation there is a desire that there be a renewed interest in the Bible and the sacrament of baptism. 1998 - Year Two: The Holy Spirit This second year "will be dedicated in a particular way to the Holy Spirit and to his sanctifying presence within the commu-nity of Christ's disciples" (§44). The focus of this second year will be to "include a renewed appreciation of the presence and activity of the Spirit who acts within the church" (§45). Hopefully this year will help the church to become more sen-sitive to the movement of the Holy Spirit to evangelize our soci-ety with the Gospel and bring new hope for the gift of eternal life. 1999 - Year Three: God the Father The scope of this final year of preparation is large. "The third year., will be aimed at broadening the horizons of believers, so that they will see things in the perspective of Christ; in the per-spective of the "Father who is in heaven" (§49). The third year links all our the Christian life together. "The sense of being on a journey to the Father should encourage everyone to undertake, by holding fast to Christ the Redeemer of man, a journey of authen-tic conversion" (§50). Practical Applications The document does not give any concrete directives about what should be done. Each parish, diocese, religious community, and family will have to plan how it will prepare for and celebrate this great jubilee. Some might groan that this is another program which will mean more work. It is not meant to be an additional burden; rather it is to be integrated into the spiritual works and ministry of the parish. The preparations and actual celebration should be incorporated into what is already in place but also allow us to be open to creative suggestions. It certainly cannot be a uniform celebration of the faith. As each parish community studies the document it may find that cer-tain parts will have more influence on their life as a faith com-munity than other sections of the document. 830 Revie~v for Religious I thought of several practical suggestions after I read the letter. 1. Gathering community members together this year to study the document will bear great fruit. The importance of this study will be ~o glean the "spirit" of the jubilee. 2. Religious communities and parishes might seek to link the season of Advent each year with their preparations for the year ~000. Advent would give focus to the coming of the Messiah and thd future coming of Christ in the next millennium. Since Advent is a time of joy and anticipation, preparations for the jubilee could share that same joy and anticipation. 3. Other communities might seek to have a spiritual event each and every year. As an example it might be a parish retreat, a parish mission or other form of spiri-tual renewal that has continuity over the three years of immediate preparation for the jubilee. .4. As a sign of our willingness to come to grips with the sins of the past we Each parish, diocese, religious community, and family will have to plan how it will prepare for and celebrate this great jubilee. might have acts of prayer and repentance. In my parish our church building is located within a short walk from the site of Canada's largest mass hanging. Although this terrible event happened a hundred and ten years ago it still is a sorry mark of our treat-ment of Canada's native peoples. Every faith community could find similar instances of past sins. 5. A diocese might organize a special time for prayer for each of the parishes throughout the year. For example, there may a spe-cial time of pr~yer that rotates from parish to parish. After fifty-two weeks each of the parishes has participated in this prayer time. 6. Happy the parish community that will be able to have a special spirihaa! event in each of the households of the parish. A parish might organize a special family prayer service that is passed from household to household until all in the parish has taken part in this prayer service within their home. J~ach suggestion must try to link all ages and groups within the parish. No one should be left out. We must be creative and enter into the vision that this apostolic letter calls us to have. The document is packed with possibilities. This one article cannot hope to do justice to its vision. No one should expect November-December 199Y 831 Gregoire ¯ Opportunity of tbe ffubilee Year 2000 everyone to become involved in every part of the document. Christians will have to do what is possible in their own situation. At this point in time no one individual has a plan of how to accomplish this. When the pope gave final approval to this doc-ument he did not have the concrete details worked out. The chal-lenge rests with the people of the church. They will not be disappointed by this jubilee. The members of my parish council encourage me: "Let's try it!" Rainbow of the Years Red the beginning with sharp pains of birthing, then childhood softly oranged into you th's yellow lesson that life holds its promise, its dreams and spring. Greening years bear hope of buds turned blossoms, only to be blued with challenges and tears. Indigo deepens to violet's quiet ache of aging. An arch of muted glory spanning life-to-death time now fades into the heavens, the rainbow's work complete. Maria Corona Crumback IHM 832 Review for Religious CASSIAN J. YUHAUS The 1994 Synod: Uniqueness and Challenge SninCe October, 1994 I have been happy to share with large umbers of religious, some diocesan clergy, and even a few bishops something of the experience of the synod. This I have done frequently along with Sr. Doris Gottemoeller RSM and Fr. Gerald Brown SS who were personally invited to the synod by the pope. It must be said clearly that these are my own personal reflec-tions. They have no other value than that. I do not speak for the synod; only the pope can do that. I speak of the synod, and that we all can do and should do. The Uniqueness of the Synod on the Consecrated Life There have been fourteen synods. None of them contains the uniqueness expressed in this the ninth ordinary synod of October 1994. There are at least six reasons why this synod can claim such distinction, all having to do with the theme, "The Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and the World of Today." The first reason stands alone in importance and impact. Never before in its nearly 2000-year history has the entire church throughout the world been called to concentrate with such depth and persistence on the very nature, the meaning and the func-tioning of religious life: What is it? Why is it? How does it work? Cassian Yuhaus CP served as a peritus at the 1994 synod of bishops, con-vened to study The Consecrated Life in the Church and the World. His address is Ministry for Religious; 631 Griffin Pond Road; P.O. Box 2567; Clarks Summits, Pennsylvania 18411. November-December 199~ 833 Yuhaus * The 1994 Synod Nor was this concentration limited to hierarchy or certain mem-bers of the church. The entire church was asked to reflect, to s~udy, to speak, and to pray on the consecrated life. A further dis-tinguishing note is that this study was to be done simultaneously. In reality the Holy Father called upon th~ entire church to pause and take a good look at what by every measure is one of the most fascinating faces the church turns to the world: the consecrated life--the tens of thousands of her faithful on every continent who vow to live poverty, chastity, and obedience perpetually. Secondly, this pause was not a mere passing glance or token recognition of sisters, priests, brothers, and members of secular institutes. Every bishops' conference and every conference of major superiors in every nation was to study and respond to a carefully prepared and lengthy statement on the theme of the synod. To this worldwide group were added other individuals and agencies such as curia cardinals and heads of departments of the Holy See and experts throughout the world. The statement each was asked to respond to is entitled Lineamenta which strictly means, outlines or guidelines. This doc-ument is prepared by a special group of carefully chosen individ-uals who would present what they see as the "Status Questions," the state of the question. What is it we are to talk about? What is the situation we face? What are the issues? What problems as well as what achievements and values? The response was to be confidential so as to assure maximum freedom. A third claim to uniquene.ss was the rumble, the agitation, the anxiety the synod caused throughout the woi'ld and not only among those most immediately concerned, the religioias, but beyond the confines of the Catholic communion, among other Christian faiths who boast numbers of their faithful who likewise embrace a particular expression of gospel life in community. The interest spread beyond the borders of Christiaiaity among those most ancient orders of monks within the oriental religions who desired to be and were represented at the synod. Never before have so many experts, so many writers, so many leaders of religious/monastic life dedicated themselves to such a thorough examination of the path to which, in their conviction, only God could have called them. And only God could have sus-tained them in what became at times a hard, bitter and demand-ing response even unto blood. We have yet to make a taxonomy of this outpouring of books, articles, lectures, symposia and con- 834 Review for Religious ferences. It is rich in the extreme, numbering in the thousands. An international conference of major consideration took place in Rome in November 1993 at which some 500 leaders, experts, and consultants gathered to reflect on religious life and to prepare a response for the synod. A fourth reason for uniqueness should not be overlooked. I refer to the length of this "pause." It was not a matter of a hur-ried response and be done with it. The dialogue and research, the con-sultancy and response went on for more than four years. The synod on the Consecrated Life was announced by our Holy Father, for only the pope can designate a theme, in 1990. The synod was to take place in 1993 but because of the already important special synod for all Africa, the date was postponed to October 1994. This was to turn to the advantage of the entire church because in this final year of study an enormous amount of more precise and insight-ful work had been accomplished. This extra year highlights the fifth reason for the uniqueness of this synod: the critique of the response to the Lineamenta, the pre-liminary statement on religious life. This document was thoroughly ana- Never before have so many experts, so many writers, so many leaders of religious/monastic life dedicated themselves to such a thorough examination of the path to which, in their conviction, only God could have called them. lyzed, particularly by the conferences of religious throughout the world. For the most part it was rejected as unworthy of the synod. Despite the prohibition, many of these critiques were released in whole or in part to wide groups within the church and even to the public. The Lineamenta, or preliminary document, was seen to be in many areas an inaccurate expression of the reality, more backward- than forward- looking, more negative than positive, and insufficiently expressing the ecclesiology and theology of the Second Vatican Council. We must keep in mind that the document was a preliminary statement. It gave proof to the effectiveness of the synod process. The synod works. And works well. All these responses were wel- November-December 1995 835 Yuhaus * The 1994 Synod corned. Each was carefully studied and an entirely new document was written, in itself a monumental task. This new document, Instrumentum laboris, the working paper for the synod, shall remain one of the finest products of the entire synod process. Even though at present it is no longer accessible, it will become one of the more significant references on the consecrated life in all future study. Perhaps the sixth reason why this synod is rightly claimed to be unique should have been mentioned first. In and by itself it is The participation of the women at the synod was active, dynamic and effective. They were welcomed warmly. sufficient to verify the claim of distinction for the ninth ordinary synod. I speak of the presence of women, the women religious, members of the monastic traditions, East and West, and mem-bers of the secular institutes. How they got there is in itself a fascinating story. At first there was no mention of women. Their fears were well expressed. Would they be subject to yet another manifestation of patriarchy whereby the strongest and most powerful group of men in the world would determine the mean-ing and the way of life of women without their having a word to say about it? The women reli-gious themselves made strong protestations, par-ticularly underscoring the fact that of all the religious in the world, women comprise some 72 %. The women's voices were joined by a large majority of male religious and by many bishops. The entire matter was presented to Pope John Paul II. Many alternatives were suggested. Finally the Holy Father invited the International Union of Superiors General (UISG) to elect twenty members from throughout the world to represent women religious. To this number he personally invited some thirty more women religious. The representation was by no means min-imal or token. Altogether sixty-one women were active in the synod. Seventeen percent of the synod membership were women. Nor did the matter rest with representation. The further issue had to be faced: What role would women have? How active and real would their participation be? It was clear they would not vote. Neither did the male reli-gious vote, except the twenty superiors general of male congre-gations who, as ordinaries and by the canon law of the synod, are permitted to vote. The vote belongs to the bishops. 836 Review for Religious But the women did have voice. Each was free to speak in the general assembly. Each could likewise submit a written interven-tion. The participation of the women at the synod was active, dynamic and effective. They were welcomed warmly. They received equal treatment and were listened to carefully. Their effectiveness was in the small linguistic group discussions where they could debate the issue, represent their convictions and actively share with the cardinals and bishops in formulating the final proposals which, after all, contain the meaning and intent of the synod and are its principal result. It was these proposals, fifty-five of them, that were finally voted upon in the last session. In the general assembly each one passed by near unanimity but they had already passed the scrutiny and the approval of the working groups in which the women vitally participated. Three Challenges Challenge One: New Styles, New Forms, New Expressions of the Consecrated Life The face of consecrated life has changed profoundly since the call to renewal of the Second Vatican Council. Based on the five renewing principles expressed in Perfectae caritatis--the pri-macy of the Gospel, the rediscovery of charism, insertion into the mission of the church, solidarity with the real world, and gen-uine renewal of spirit, religious institutes globally have embarked courageously on a new way, leaving old ways aside. Conventional apostolates, primarily education and health care, have given way to a variety of new ministries. Internal structures of common life and governance have become radically transformed for most insti-tutes. Meantime, in the young churches a~ well as in the long-established churches, entirely new forms and expressions of religious life have arisen. Instrumentum laboris, the working paper and agenda of the synod, while continually acknowledging the pneumatological and prophetic nature of the religious life and its rightful need for a cer-tain autonomy in the safeguarding and development of its proper charism within a life-giving ecclesiology, nonetheless, recognizes the extent and depth of current challenges that have affected, and continue to affect, the expression and experience of the conse-crated life. These challenges are discussed under a threefold prevalence: Noven~ber-Decenzber 1995 837 Yubaus ¯ The 1994 Synod 1. As related to culture and special changes of modern times: "In this final decade of the 20th Century, society is marked by great technological and scientific progress., the oppor-tunities offered to Catholicism today are great, responding to the deepest aspirations of the consecrated life" (IL §16). 2. As related to specific geographic differences: "In the countries of the Northern hemisphere, members of the institutes of consecrated life are aging and decreasing in number. In the countries of the Southern hemisphere, the opposite is happening--they are becoming younger and more numerous. In geographic terms there is a shift from north to south, from west to east" (IL §22). 3. As related to particular forms of religious life: "A com-plete treatment of the consecrated life, however, demands that we take into account some specific problems concern-ing certain forms of the consecrated life., not in order to exclude other realities, but to look at some meritorious aspects in the context of a universalism of the church which does not ignore forms that may be less significant in size but no less deserving of proper attention" (IL §30). In his excellent opening address, Cardinal Hume presents an admirable and provocative summary of the challenges in this tran-sitional period of the religious life: ¯ challenges to the episcopal ministry (nos. 17 and 18) ¯ challenges of spirituality (no. 19) ¯ challenges of fraternal life (no. 20) ¯ the place of the consecrated women (no. 21) ¯ challenges of mission and inculturation (nos. 22 and 23) ¯ relationships to other states of life and to vocation (nos. 25 and 26). A large number of synodal fathers have likewise addressed the issue of new and different expressions of the consecrated life. These interventions for the most part have been positive, recog-nizing the reality of the transformation taking place, and praising the courage and daring with which religious have approached new and often conflictual situations. Other synodal fathers have addressed the issue of entirely new beginnings of religious life, especially in the younger churches. Nonetheless, a significant number of interventions have likewise expressed fear, anxiety, and serious concern that new and divergent lifestyles and expressions leave much to be desired and give rise to serious concerns about relationships between religious and hierarchy, religious and laity and among and within religious institutes themselves. Very many 838 Review for Religious of these interventions are concerned with the problem of the identity of consecrated life today. Briefly put, new and divergent lifestyles, as indicated by var-ious synodal fathers, have a fourfold expression: 1. from an inward to an outward movement; from forms readily recognized and uniform manners and expressions, including the religious habit to a pluralism in lifestyles; 2. from a hierarchic and readily identifiable structure of government to collegial and highly participative forms; 3. from conventional, corporate and very effective min-istries, primarily in education and health care, to a large variety of autonomous ministries, addressing new and demanding ecclesial and societal needs which frequently depend upon the daring and initiative of individual reli-gious; 4. from fixed forms of fraternal life and prayer in common to freely-elected lifestyles and disciplines of prayer and penance, even within and among members of the same com-munity. Besides these major transformations taking place in the well-established institutes, entirely new forms of apostolic and com-munity life are appearing that reflect and/or contain many elements of the consecrated life. The synod recognized the pastoral care bishops must have for all religious. In the rightful exercise of their office to enable religious sisters, brothers and priests to maintain their conse-cration and mission in the church, two questions need to be addressed: 1. In the face of the major transformations in the lifestyle and ministries of established religious institutes, responding to the mandate of the Second Vatican Council, and subse-quent directives of the supreme pontiffs and the Holy See, what words of help and encouragement may be given? What cautions may be expressed? What hope for the future? 2. With careful precision, what norms need to be expressed whereby new forms of the consecrated life may be identified and recognized by the local ordinary so as to, at an oppor-tune time, present these to the Apostolic See to whom alone it belongs to institute a new form? Moreover, will these forms be distinguished from other ecclesial movements and associations of the faithful? In responding to these questions, the working paper is help-ful in its reflection that: November-December 199~ 839 Yubaus ¯ Tbe1994 Synod The renewal of all the People of God is brought about by the Spirit through the re-invigorating of the forms of life that already exist, and through the raising up of new ones in the course of history in response to the needs of the church. If new groups fit into already sanctioned forms, according to the original inspiration of the founders, they are approved as such (IL §37). In responding to the first question above, on the major trans-formation in long-established institutes, two cautions should be expressed: 1. It cannot be a question of returning to the past and insist-ing or imposing forms or styles that seemed so efficient, effective, and unambiguous in a different milieu. 2. It seems one would want to be careful not to exclude these new and, at times, radically different expressions of religious life from the identity of consecrated life, as several synodal fathers indicated. Most contain very apt and appro-priate expressions of the new evangelization. In responding to the second question regarding entirely new forms, the following considerations will be helpful. "It must be taken into consideration that only those who assume all three evangelical counsels can be considered members of an institute of consecl:ated life" (IL §38). Nonetheless, it is possible that newer forms of the consecrated life may be emerging. The working paper further cautioned: A primary discernment is necessary consisting in weighing whether or not the new forms are in continuity with what is essential to the consecrated life through the profession of the evangelical counsels. Another aspect to be clarified is whether or not it involves groups of evangelical life which fit into one of the existing canonical forms . It would then be a question not of new forms, but of new institutes or societies (IL §37). To clarify the issue of new forms, two other points were made: 1. The Apostolic See alone can institute a new form of con-secrated life; 2. Groups must discern whether they want to be recognized and constituted as a new expression of the consecrated life or as associations of the faithful with the character of an ecclesial movement. Whether we are speaking of the major transformations in both lifestyle and ministry of long-established institutes or of entirely new forms and expressions of religious life, the synodal 840 Review for Religious participants offered a large number of incisive reflections. Some of these follow: 1. While the fundamental characteristics remain essential to the consecrated life, there is broad scope for legitimate diversity. The failure to recognize diversity as legitimate, indeed, as a gift of the Spirit, can result in unnecessary ten-sions, fear and accusation. 2. New expressions are to be studied in the light of the essential elements and the charism of specific Congregations so as not to stifle them but to discover the creative move-ment of the Holy Spirit. 3. Religious address the underlying causes of social distress to eliminate injustice where ever it is found. 4. Religious lobby political leaders to improve situations that deprive people of rights to basic human dignity. 5. Religious life will only have meaning and a future if it is clearly experienced as being directly involved in the truly critical issues of our time, not of the past. 6. Some religious congregations may perhaps die out in this process of insertion into the present . . . new forms or expressions of evangelical living are coming into being in the church and will continue to do so because the Spirit will always call people committed to the reign of God to live the Gospel in changing contexts. 7. The hierarchy should not be afraid of being challenged by the questioning and the searching of religious in their quest to be faithful to their fundamental options for the poor . . . religious must also discern how their insertion and witness can be "pastorally fruitful." . . . The central challenge both for religious and hierarchy is the ability to prayerfully discern together in the Spirit. 8. The charismatic structure is not to be placed against-- opposed to--the hierarchic structure as if they were two separate entities. Proceeding from the one source, the Spirit, they belong to the one and same church. They are insepa-rable. 9. As in the case with the initial authentication of a new charism, there is a concomitant need for prudent discern-ment in new expressions of diversity and interpretation of charism. '10. While the fundamental characteristics remain essential to consecrated life, there is broad scope for legitimate diver-sity. The failure to recognize diversity as legitimate, indeed as a gift of the Spirit can result in unnecessary tensions, fear and accusations. Noventber-December 1995 841 Yubaus ¯ Tbe1994 Synod 11. There is need to develop a better process of dialogue so that at every level, from the Holy See to the particular church, bishops may acquire a better understanding of the many dimensions of authentic consecrated life and the diverse ways it is continually impacted by the historical-cultural context in which it is lived. 12. A major transformation of the consecrated life is already under way; newer movements are emerging today. Religious communities are responding in a radically newer way to the cry of the poor; a new expression of religious life is required. Challenge Two: Consecrated Life and the Laity Instrumentum laboris makes frequent reference to the new awareness on the part of the laity regarding the role and devel-opment of the consecrated life in the church and the world today and speaks of the ways in which there can be a mutual enrich-ment of both ways of Gospel life. Experiencing the church as an organic communion through a complementarity of the gifts of the Spirit, in the light of the mystery of the call to holiness of all those reborn in Christ in virtue of baptism, has generally lead to construc-tive collaboration between the lay faithful and the faithful consecrated through the profession of the evangelical coun-sels. Consecrated persons are united more profoundly to Christ in the paschal mystery of his death and resurrection, profess the evangelical counsels and offer their whole being to God. In this way, they remind all the faithful--but espe-cially the laity--that this world can be transformed only through the spirit of the beatitudes (IL §80). In the "Relatio Ante," the opening address, Cardinal Hume further elaborates on this relationship and the advantages that may accrue to both: Spirituality experienced by consecrated persons !s also nec-essary for others who search for ways and teachers of spir-ituality in our pluralistic world. This search is not only strong in cultures of traditional religions as in Asia, but also in the West and for this reason spirituality is a new are-opagus of mission (see RM 38) . Consecrated persons must be witnesses of spirituality, capable of speaking about the things of God based on their own experience and become guides of interior progress; and religious centers ~aust not only be strategic points of missionary irradiation but also practical schools of spirituality. Today, the laity expect from the consecrated above all an 842 Review for Religious example of holiness and accompaniment in a way, generi-cally and specifically, that is according to the spirituality of the charism. "There is a desire to participate in the spirio tuality and the very mission of the institutes in a comple-mentarity of vocations" (IL ~80; see §98). Such condivision of the spirituality and the mission of the Institutes is not only for the good of the associated persons, but for the whole church (Art. 19 and 25). Many synodal fathers expressed their conviction of the value and importance of this conjunction between the consecrated life and the laity. The consecrated life is seen as bringing a new impulse to the faith expressions of the laity, responding to their thirst for God, leading them to a deeper meaning of their proper secularity as a vocation-fulfillment and engaging them in a mutual sharing of charism and spirituality. It seemed altogether proper that the synod should continue the expressions of praise and encouragement contained in the working paper for a closer and more enriching relation between religious and laity. At the same time some cautions may need to be expressed: 1. Is there the danger of obscuring or confusing further one or other or even both vocations? 2. How would this increased relationship affect a distinctive call to the consecrated life? 3. What effect may this relationship have on perpetuity of commitment to the consecrated life? A growing concern, not only in the western world but else-where, a concern already brought to the attention of the Apostolic See is what has been given the broad title of "associate" partici-pation in the life and mission of various Institutes of religious life. This refers to ways in which members of the laity, Catholic and Christian, may become more closely allied to an institute even by way of contractual agreement and paraliturgical initia-tion or acceptance. In many instances these forms of association with religious institutes arise and take form without any knowl-edge of the local ordinary. The question arises as to the timeliness of recognition of such forms of association and, perhaps, a pre-liminary statement of some guidelines or norms. The following statements of various synodal participants illus-trate strongly the importance of a new and deepened relation-ship between members of the institutes of consecrated life and the laity: November-December 199 ~ 843 Yuhaus ¯ The 1994 Synod ¯ Religious must invite, encourage the laity to join hands with them as by baptism and confirmation the laity too are committed to the same cause. It is vitally important to ban-ish any lingering suspicions of each other or rivalries between the different vocations of the People of God. ¯ Religious are a gift, not only to the church but to the world. Their dialogue of communion must go out to all God's people including members of others faiths and those of no faith. ¯ Laity expressed the need for religious to keep people informed of changes and of different forms of ministry and the need to participate in faith-forming communities. Religious should be inspired to invite laity to share and express the spirit and spirituality of their congregation. ¯ The validity of religious life in the church and in society will be experienced in its charismatic power to call indi-viduals to be with others who are similarly committed to a life in the Spirit. We are looking for consecrated persons to move out radically from their own internal concerns into a way of living with the people where they are. They see that their first witness is to these (the people): a witness of being rather than doing. This way of being in touch with the world and of taking that world seriously needs to be further encouraged. ¯ It is not enough to be close to the laity but religious must invite laity to become closely involved with them so that the "Spirit of the Beatitudes"--which is the substantial wit-ness of the consecrated life--will become the spiritual cli-mate in which the laity fulfill their proper secular vocation. ¯ Catholic monasteries and religious houses should do more to help Catholics engage in personal prayer. The Catholic Church needs many more spiritual masters of prayer, of meditation, of contemplation who will make the riches of Catholic prayer and mystical tradition available to more Catholics. ¯ Numbers of people everywhere in the world are longing for a deep, personal experience of God to find meaning in their lives. Challenge Three: The Future: Participation in Decision Making and Pastoral Planning The indispensable union of the consecrated life with the life and mission of the church and its intimate bonding flow through-out the working paper particularly under the ecclesiology of com-munion. Post-conciliar ecclesiological reflection has brought about a renewed awareness that all the components of the eccle- 844 Review for Religious sial fabric are called to work together to build up the one Body of Christ. On the one hand, the ~nembers of insti-tutes of consecrated life, in conformity with their own charism, have been led to give greater value to the partic-ular church, seeking their own manner of active presence in it. On the other hand, the bishops, with due respect for the proper autonomy of life and government of the institutes, have often made an effort for greater joint planning. From the responses it is seen that, generally, there is a sincere desire to build authentic relationships of communion and collaboration among bishops, institutes of consecrated life, secular clergy and laity. Consecrated persons on their part are becoming more aware of their duty to be promoters of communion in the particular church through the meaning of their consecration in the church and their witness to the universality of the Gospel message, which goes beyond differences of any kind based on race, culture, tribe, and so forth, and through their solidarity and availability to all, especially to the very poor. In such a manner, they create bonds between the church and those marginalized groups which frequently are not reached by ordinary pastoral activity (IL §73). In his opening address, Cardinal Hume devoted the entirety of Part I to "The Role of the Apostolic College Regarding the Consecrated Life," stating: We are here to deal with consecrated life as the synod of Bishops and therefore above all as pastors in union with the Pope. The reality of consecrated life is our concern and part of our episcopal duty. We are in fact pastors of every-one in the churches confided to us and of all the members which make it up. This role of the episcopate in consecrated life can be assumed also by its ecclesial dimension. In fact, there is no consecrated life outside of the life and mission of the church. This comes from the Spirit for the good of the Mystical Body of Christ, it is recognized and erected as a consecrated state to God from legitimate pastors, it lives only as the branch attached to the trunk, participates in the mission confided to the church. In the final section of his provocative discourse, his Eminence put the challenges of the consecrated life to the episcopal ministry in the form of two questions: ¯ How can one understand and make all God's People understand the meaning, the place and mission of conse-crated life in the variety of its charisms? November-December 1995 845 Yubaus ¯ The 1994 Synod ¯ How can one find suitable ways and opportune means not only to promote real ecclesial relations between bishops and consecrated persons, but also to fulfill our duty as priest in relation to consecrated life, respecting the right autonomy and different charisms? No other point had been more frequently made by the synodal fathers in the general congregations than the importance of clar-ifying some points within the document Mutuae relationes, par-ticularly at the time of major transformation within religious institutes and the coming to life of new and diverse forms of reli-gious vocation. Several interventions have called attention to one specific and exact form of relationship, namely pastoral planning. The presumption is that the local church is itself engaged in serious pastoral planning with the forecasting of needs and uti-lizations of resources. Where it is not, religious institutes feel bound to move by themselves in this important task. However, where pastoral planning is accepted, it would indeed, as one syn-odal father explained it, "Be absurd for religious to do parallel planning." The question arises that, following upon and enlarging on Mutuae relationes, is it opportune for this synod to insist and per-haps list some norms to assure: ¯ that religious fully integrate themselves within the local church situation and culture; ¯ actively participate in decision making and effective pas toral planning; ¯ assist in the analysis of local needs and ¯ express alternatives to meeting discerned needs of the local church. Surely one of the more certain and successful ways to assure a healthy interdependent and continued relationship is by way of pastoral planning, that is, by preparing norms whereby religious participate actively and continuously in the development of the pastoral plan for the local church. Some indications of suitable norms were contained in the fol-lowing interventions: I. The pastoral planning of and by religious must be inte-grated with the pastoral planning of the local church under the guidance of the bishop, its unifying source. It is absurd to parallel pastoral planning. Full collaboration of religious 846 Review for Religious with the bishop, priest and laity is necessary in the devel-opment and implementation of a pastoral plan. A commu-nications aspect should be part of every pastoral plan of every community. Every congregation should develop a b~sic plan for communications to make the Gospel known and to present a positive image of the consecrated life. 2. The response to Vatican II has led to radical changes in lifestyle and in ministry; these changes need to be reflected upon in the light of Scripture and Tradition as we develop a vision of the future of religious life. 3. Many religious complain that they are not invited to actively participate in the pastoral planning and decision making of the diocese. But, not seldom, religious especially those of pontifical right, set up their own programs and plan withotit even corisulting the bishop. 4. The synod should insist that: ¯ ~:eligious truly integrate themselves within the local situ ation and culture; ¯ be'open to the real and actual needs of the faithful in the local church; * be willing to involve themselves and actively participate in pastoral planning and in the decision making of the diocese. 5. Members of consecrated life often draw attention to the lack of opportunities for them to be involved in the decision making processes for the life of the Church. It is impor-tant that they be listened to and encouraged to participate when discussions take place concerning the pastoral respon-sibilities and activities o'f the church in a particular country. The Synod and the Future of Religious Life The s3inod has already had a significantly strong impact on religious life sifice its convocation in 1990. More has been writ-ten on religious life, its meaning, its role, its manifold expres-sions in the past five years than in the fifty preceding. And much more will come. It would be a service to the church and to religious universally were we to have an interpretive analysis of all that has been said according to the major geographic regions such as Africa, the Americas, especi~ally Latin America, East Europe, North and South Pacific. My conjecture is that while we would expectantly find ~ertain marked differences, there would be much more of a colaverg~nce on central themes, many of which were lucidated earlier. November-December 199~ 847 Yubaus ¯ Tbe1994 Synod The synod will have an important role to play in this inter-pretation of the consecrated life. Whatever will be written or said tomorrow will find necessarily a reference point in this synod. While as yet we do not know the size, the shape, the emphasis of the final document, we can say from the experience of the synod and the enormity of study and research preceding it, that the final document will have considerable weight. It cannot be expected to resolve all the issues raised during these synodal years. More than likely it will be the beginning of a series of more profound studies regarding the consecrated life and its role in the church and in society. Some of these areas of research we already know, such as deeper research into the meaning of consecration as it applies to all persons in the church and more specifically to those called to the profession of the evangelical counsels in an approved way of life sanctioned by the church and revelatory of its mys-tery and mission; the need to restudy and rewrite the important document on mutual relationships; the norms for distinguishing various new expressions of the consecrated life from other eccle-sial movements and groupings; the role of women religious in the proclamation of the Gospel and in decision-making positions. It may well be that the 1994 synod may be the turning point in the evolution of religious life. The synod did not look back-ward. Those who expected it to require a return to past and fixed forms and styles and yes, even dress, were bitterly disappointed. The final remarks of Cardinal Hume, the relator of the synod, are very insightful and encourging: A number of questions concerning some of the negative aspects of religious life were mentioned by some members of the synod in their interventions. There were but few such interventions. Problems, however, ought not be allowed to over-shadow so much that is positive and good in consecrated life . And there is much good. It see~ns to me that the synod fathers, being well aware of problems, nonetheless felt that they should concentrate on the ideal rather than on the difficulties and abuses. The synod has produced a fine ideal of consecrated life. I am grateful for this synod. Cardinal Hume went on to say that there is much hope in the synod but it will depend upon the way it is accepted, stud-ied, and seriously implemented. The enthusiasm, the study, the concern for the consecrated life engendered prior to the synod must continue after. If we were to take the Instrumentum laboris 848 Review for Religious alone as a basis of further discussion and increased understanding we would all be enriched. But we have much more. ~re will have the final report from our Holy Father and we have thousands of excellent articles, reflections, books, and reports that will enrich us and challenge us for decades to come, well into the third ~nillennium. This synod inaugurated a search for the fuller meaning and the clearer identity of the consecrated life. That search will con-tinue. A new awareness is dawning throughout the church of the precious-ness of the gift God has given the world and the church. The greatest good that can come from this synod is that this awareness so evident in those October days will reflect throughout the church. We are appalled when we recollect how very little had been said about religious life in the post-conciliar church. Little effort was taken topromote a positive image, to encourage and sustain the vocation to the consecrated life. Years went by without one intelligent and meaningful word being uttered in parish after parish; confusion and misconcep-tion even misrepresentation was allowed to cast a gloomy shadow across the path The synod will have an important role to play in this interpretation of the consecrated life. Whatever will be written or said tomorrow will find necessarily a reference point in this synod. that leads to the cloister. All that is about to change. We look to a reanimation of this gift to all the people of God when children will talk to one another about the mystery and wonder such a gift evokes, when schools will not eliminate the consecrated, life as a career opportunity, when parishes will call forth the giftedness of all its members and when the family shall again pray to God to be blest with a vocation to the consecrated life. Two signs of this new awareness are already evident. Throughout the church in the younger churches and in the well established churches, in East and IATest, new forms, new expres-sions of the consecrated life are budding forth. They are not a few. They number in the hundreds and they are attracting zeal-ous followers. Alongside this is the phenomenon of a variety of forms of associated membership whereby laity, married and sin-gle, young and old, Christian and nonChristian desire to align November-December 199Y 849 Yuhaus ¯ The 1994Synod themselves with the charism, the contemplative spirit and the apostolic zeal emanating from religious communities that were thought to be on the way out. I hazard to say that the October synod of 1994 will be the turning point in the evolution of that incomprehensible phe-nomenon, that elusive mystery, that Spirit-filled gift which hence-forward we shall refer to as the consecrated life. Stretch Out Your Hand! (Mark 3) In the Gospel Jesus initiated the cure, told the man to "Come here" and performed magical surgery on his shriveled hand so its fingers unfolded into flesh. Perhaps the man wasn't grateful. The Healer had snatched away his excuse for the random pities and coins of others. Now this hand couldn't remain unemployed; would be expected to find work. You're never completely grateful for being 9ured. Knowing your impairments snag you kindness, put you in the spotlight so others cringe at their fully functional selves. It's a kind of power. So you pray with ambivalence for your own healing, half frightened at the compassion God may feel for whatever is withered in you, half frightened at how you'll handle being whole again. Patricia Schnapp RSM 850 Review for Religious JOSEPH A. TETLOV~z From Useful Instruments to Willing Agents: Transforming Leadership for the New Millennium As an historian of American Catholic sph'imality, I have grown convinced that leadership of our religious con-gregations during the last half of the twentieth century has been better than ordinary, perhaps even historically outstanding. Conside,; then, how much a privilege I consider it to be addressing you men and women who are that leadership at the millennium. I am going to talk about your leadership in te,'ms of American social and intellectual histo,~y and American Catholic spirituality. That makes the task difficult enough, and to add to it, I cannot stop to distinguish contemplative and active lives, or to say much about the rich divergences between men and women. So I hope I am on target. My concern reminded me of a sto,:y in my family's lore about the day my mother picked up the phone and a little voice said, "I want to talk to Judy." "Well, honey, there's no Judy here." After a pause, the little voice said again that it wants to talk to Judy. "Well, darling, no Judy lives here; you must have dialed the wrong numbe,: " No pause this time: "Aw, lady, you answered the wrong phone." I hope you haven't dialed the wrong numbe,; and 1 hope I haven't answered the wrong phone. Joseph A. Tetlow SJ gave this presentation at the joint assem-bly of Major Superiors of Men (CMSM) and Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR) in August 1995. His address is Jesuit Hall; 3601 LindeH Blvd.; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. Noventber-December 1995; 851 Tetlow * From Useful Instruments to Willing Agents Between Vatican I and Vatican II, between the first automo-bile and Apollo I, the socioeconomic program of the West, in Roberto Mangabeira Unger's words, was "to turn all society into a world of patrons and clients."' Robber barons like Vanderbilt lavished patronage; their clients begged help. Bosses ruled "their" workers; bishops had "their" priests; religious superiors had "their" subjects. All these subjects were "clients," including the religious, who leaned on--the IndoEuropean root of client is klei, to incline to or lean on--their superiors. This patron/client relationship flourished in the Catholic belief that the Church was a perfect society? It offered religious superiors ready apostolic choices, for the most part shaped by realities in an immigrant church; it offered religious subjects ready obedience for their own holiness. The patron/client relationship made us instruments of our congregations--instruments, we believed, in God's hands. With the sociocultural revolutions of the sixties, our con-temporaries turned from the patron/client structure to the form of the personal.3 Even unskilled workers personalize production lines through "management circles." We want no longer to be instruments; we want to be personal agents--of company, church, congregation. The implications of this secular shift in the relationship between religious leadership and companions (which has super-seded the superior/subject relationship) are great. For we can be agents only as members of a community, enacting personal desires that are somehow the community's desires. In religious congre-gations as elsewhere, this demands that we form what Josiah Royce in The Problem of Christianity calls communities of memory. The women writing in Ann Patrick Ware's Midzoives of the Future were keenly aware of this.4 A community of memory grows from a foundational event which the community interprets through and throughout its his-tory. From that event, interpretation, and history, each commu-nity's charism, mission, and identity grow. Here are the roots to which we return in the postconciliar generation--foundational event, interpretation, history. We have discovered in our roots that religious leadership has all along been for the sake of finding out What God hopes not only in us and but also, emphatically, in our lifeworld. Yet we are severely challenged, even daunted, by the thought of finding what 852 Review for Religious God wants, because of several failures. The most operative at pre-sent is the church's failure to proclaim an adequate theology of creation, a failure John Courtney Murray identified in The Problem of God forty years ago. Our only dogma about creation affirms that God directly creates the human soul, insinuating that God does not directly create any other creature. We conceive of cre-ation as happening in the past: "Who made me? God made me." A long time ago; the Big Bang.5 This absent Creator proves a grave failure: For the earth--we tear it up since God has left it merely to us.6 For humankind--we do not know God passionately, momently, creating us and our lifeworld in all con-creteness. Even for many Christians, God is the watchmaker God of the Enlightenment rationalists. For us reli-gious- what is the point of "discernment" beyond trying to find out how I feel, if I know no God busily working in all things, me included? A more adequate theology of creation is rising from the personal experi-ence of God in consecrated life, for in our contemplation we come to know God's pas-sionate hopes in the world, not as abstract ideas, but as our own authentic, concrete desires. In this pursuit of God's hoping, leader-ship at the end of the millennium achieves two things. First we have been doing well: Leadership now listens openly and deeply, bravely and discerningly, to the desiring and dreaming of every member of a congrega-tion. Secondly, we have not been doing so We have discovered in our roots that religious leadership has all along been for the sake of finding out what God hopes not only in us and but also, emphatically, in our lifeworld. well: Leadership identifies among all those desires and dreams the charism, mission, and identity of the congregation. Leadership in the new millennium, then, will draw companions to grow in their charism, solicit them to set aside all self-deception, and even invite them to die to many good hopes and individual dreams. Leadership, therefore, is not just for community, the holy bond-ing of those who seek God. It is also for communion, the mutual strengthening of those who courageously enact God's hopes in the world. November-Decentber 1995 853 Tetlow ¯ From Useful Instruments to Willing Agents My remarks fall into five sections: 1. from power to author-ity; 2. from submission to discernment; 3. from God's plan to God's project; 4. from instruments to agents; 5. from community to communion. 1. From Leadership of Power to Leadership of Authority Father provincial wanted Robert Drinan to believe that wisdom lay in resigning from Congress and that his submission would promote holiness. Father Drinan publicly expressed his hope that God wished him to do something else and better, and said no I do not contest this decision, or any more recent ones like it. I recall it only to point out that this was governance by power, a governance which is needed in occasional crises. The problem has been its seeping into everyday governance. "The eternal dream of power," in Roberto Mangabeira Unger's dictum, "is to rule by a reverential fear that systematically confuses prudence and piety as motives for obedience" (p. 107). In preconciliar days, prudence urged acquiescing to a higher wisdom; piety urged submission in humility. These are not good motives for obeying, and power is not now (if it ever was) a safe mode of command in religious life. With today's communications and mobility, power, like enor-mously high voltage, easily destroys, as it did in the uneven con-test between the Roman Congregation of Religious and the vital IHM Sisters of California in the late 1960s. Power is the ability so to determine a lifeworld that those under the power will have to do what they are told whether they want to or not. As long as twentieth-century modernism endured--inexorable progress, certitude, universal judgments, relentless control--the church governed consecrated life in the mode of power. Modernism survived in the American Catholic church right through Vatican II.7 In our confidence that we knew--the power of the keys and of the philosophia perennis--we divided all things into three: God, humankind, and creatures. Eucharistic Canon Four reads: "You have created humankind and set us over all creatures." Nor "all other creatures." In that modern church, the function of leadership was to declare the will of God. As it happened, this will of God coin-cided neatly in most cases with church order and with the press- 854 Review for Religious ing needs of Catholic immigrants in a Protestant nation. The function of subjects was to submit to command: Teach sixth grade, work the neonatal ward, move to another house, resign from Congress. Our submission itself was virtue, a good and holy thing. At the same time, Donald Gelpi argued a generation ago, "sub-mission of one's will to a superior [was] subtly transformed from a means into an end in itself.''8 Modernism is now fading and its imperatives--progress, cer-titude, universal truth, control--have become hollow cries in a dark alley. Postmodernism now spreads everywhere and its imper-atives- information processing, flexible specialization, informed cooperation, and pluralism--are giving shape to even emerging societies and they are re-forming leadership.9 Those of us in consecrated life, where the shift is a generation old, already.know this post-modernism and its shift in leadership style. Women like Mercy Sister Elizabeth Carroll and BViVl Ann Ida Gannon, and men like Benedictine Rembert Weakland and Franciscan Regis Armstrong decided that authority is given (in Gannon's bold phrase) "for the service of [their] fellow religious."~° They learned to be servant-leaders. Servant leadership is gover-nance by authority. Authority, which humankind always needs, is the ability so to arrange a lifeworld that those served by authority want to follow its decisions. Fully exercised, leadership by authority has rediscovered the authority of every individual. For in its root meanings--the .Latin noun auc-tot and the verb augere--authority names a human person's self-actualization and growth from within. Centuries ago we could say this clearly, as in the Jesuit Constitution: "Thus it is that from the general as the head flows all the authority of the provincials, and from the provincials that of the local superiors, and from that of these local superiors that of the individual members." That authority "of the individual member" had been honored in eremitic wisdom and monastic rules, and it was even honored in nineteenth-century congrega-tions, but throughout in a hierarchic concept of creation, as in the constitution just cited. Power is the ability so to determine a lifeworld that those under the power will have to do what they are told whether they want to or not. November-December 199Y 855 Tetlow ¯ From Useful Instruments to Willing Agents We can no longer imagine hierarchically; our imagination depicts reality as organic, evolutionary, and democratic. We once again hear all other creatures "speak to us in their own right," requiring us to author a green, peaceful, shared earth for God's sake.~1 Our task now is to locate the authority of each individual within community. This is the move from power to authority; with it comes the second shift. 2. From Submission to Discernment t~VM Sister Ann Ida Gannon, suffering in fidl habit in midJune in St. Louis in 1966, read her paper on leadership to the Institute on Religious Life in the Modern World, which the New York Times called a "pioneering attempt." She spoke of "accidentals and essentials" of religious life, but not philosophically, though she couhl have; she spoke fi'om experience, her own and other sis-ters'. On that hot day, she was breaking the ground of discern- ~lent. In the first half of this century, leadership in religion pre-supposed "a model of human coexistence that saw power, Leadership of authority presupposes a model of human coexistence that sees all personal encounters as mutual self-expression reaching toward self- transcendence and community. exchange, and communal allegiance as naturally and properly merged in the same personal encounters" (Unger, p. 177). The superior gave a command, and the subject gave obe-dience; they exchanged protection and loyalty; both swelled with alle-giance to the institute. This was leadership of power with its correl-ative, submission. Leadership of authority presup-poses a model of human coexistence that sees all personal encounters as mutual self-expression reaching toward self-transcendence and com-munity. The model is still taking form in a socioeconomic order of remarkable instability. It has provoked destabilizing changes in consecrated life; I mention two as particularly pertinent to trans-formed leadership. First, religious are now blessed with learning, something which was not always the case. Remember the Sister Formation 856 Review for Religious Program in the fifties, and think of the number among us now who hold graduate degrees. That fact ranks us with the privileged class. The main class division in our nation today is caused by the deep chasm between those who have learning and those who have not, between those who can keep on learning and those who cannot. Our efforts therefore embody the self-donation of the privileged for the not-privileged. Yet--here is the second destabilizing change--in an odd inver-sion, we also belong to the laboring classes. The reason is that we have to keep on learning: for our lifeworld, how gracefully and intelligently to erode the "violence and vacuity that charac-terizes the modern relation to reality"'2; for our communities, how to deconstruct and reconstruct our own charisms. Hence, we belong to the new "laboring class," for as labor historian Shoshana Zuboff has said, the labor of our day is learning. Why are these important to leadership? Power could instruct subjects on God's will (recall: we knew); authority has to search for it. As Donald Gelpi wrote prophetically in 1966: The authority of the superior appears, not as a species of extrinsic divine sanction which automatically transforms [the superior's] will into the objective norm of [the] sub-ject's perfection, but rather as a necessary and providential means whereby superior and subject are enabled to coordi-nate their efforts in pursuit of a concrete apostolic end to which they commonly aspire (p. 84). Authority, then, requires both having and searching for com-mon apostolic aims. In the ruckus of Catholic American life, how do we come to common apostolic aims and purposes? We have learned to call the process discernment. It means a great many things in different congregations, but it has common elements.'3 Discernment begins and continues through mutual listening. It succeeds among those who maintain the necessary conditions of a discerning heart, for as Roberto Mangabeira Unger writes, we know both from human history "and in our own intro-spective experience., that our predispositions and longings may be as misguided as our ideas.''~4 Discernment ends, consequently, for all of us, not in certitude about "God's will," but in hopeful enactment of God's hopes. So we have moved from submission to discernment. It is a risky enterprise, reminding me of a tombstone in Brooklyn: across the top, "Never sick a day in my life" and in the middle, "Now Noventber-Decen*ber 1995 857 Tetlow ¯ From Useful Instruments to Willing Agents this." If leaders cannot give absolute commands in God's name, where in God's name is God's will? 3. From God's Plan to God's Project "I don't think you should be dean," the older Jesuit told Joe Tetlow in 1969 as they drank coffee the morning aJ~er his appoint~nent. "You wear a tie. If you can ignore God's will that way, what will you do to the school?" As this millennium ends, the West is caught in a crisis of authority and a crisis of community. About authority: ¼7e must talk, Hannah Arendt once said, not about what authority is but about what it used to be. Americans (like all peoples) have wit-nessed authority incessantly prostituted in this century: a sev-enty- five-years' war, not over yet perhaps; seventy-odd democratic revolutions decayed into tyranny; noble-seeming ideologies yield-ing bitter fruit in torture and genocide. We are unnerved as sec-ularist humanism, dominant for half a century, unravels, and middle-mind Aanerica renounces its brief trial of the belief that "all goods which are not anchored in human powers or fulfillments are illusions from a bygone age.''~s Americans are back to angels, death, and other fundamentals, and we do not know what author-ity is or can be. We Catholics also have to talk about what authority once was; we lost the propositional certitude of dogmatic theology and immemorial patterns of praxis. [Historian John Padberg SJ loves to say, "I knew all this would happen the day they made us take off the maniple."] We still feel the scorching conflicts that whooshed in through good Pope John's opened windows; and now we suffer dark confusions as the church's European captivity draws to its end. One victim of these many shifts is what our gr~at-grand-fore-bears called "God's will." It meant a great deal to them: a fixed and infinite plan for the cosmos, an almighty God, transcending time and dwarfing human wisdom. Our forebears perceived God's plan in terms of neoscholastic essences and imperatives, which of course remained eternally the same; hence, the Roman collar and the wimple were nonnegotiable parts of the essence of religious life, as my old priest friend felt. And bells, cloisters, prayers, all "God's will." In the American Catholicism at this end of this century

Issue 51.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1992. ; 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: 314-535-3048. 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 ~,¥ashington, D.C. 20017. I}OSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and 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 Se;in Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MARCH / APRIL1992 ¯ VOLUMES1 ¯ NUMBER2 contents 166 182 191 2O6 217 229 236 ministry and ministries The Spiritual Exercises as a Foundation for Educational Ministry Walter J. Burghardt SJ reflects on the vision and values given to educational ministry when it is permeated by the spirituality of Ignatius Loyola's Spiritual Exercises. Going the Distance, Sustaining the Gift Melannie Svoboda SND suggests some concrete ways that people can joyfully exercise their ministry over the long haul. Newman's Living the Oratory Charism Halbert G. Weidner CO explains the Oratory foundation of Philip Neri in order to highlight values significant to John Henry Newman's life. theology and spirituality The Resurrection Kernel Dennis Billy CSSR outlines the basic principle of the doctrine of the resurrection in order to show its influence in our way of living. The Fragile Connection between Prayer and Suffering Matthias Neuman OSB speaks from his own experience of how human suffering affects our prayer. To Choose Jesus for My Heaven Donald Macdonald SMM finds Julian of Norwich's insights into the maternal love of Jesus expressed in the Blessed Sacrament. religious life and renewal Seeing in the Dark Janet Ruffing RSM finds light in John of the Cross's description of the Dark Night for understanding the current turmoil in reli-gious life. 162 Review for Religious 249 260 267 Memories of the Future Thomas McKenna CM shows how eschatology as a style of thinking provides understanding for the renewal efforts in reli-gious life. Integrating Postmodernity and Tradition Reid Perkins OP encourages the greater use of narratives in reli-gious life to connect us to the tradition and at the same time to help us overcome the obliviousness of postmodern life. Religious-Life Issues in a Time of Transition John A. Grindel CM and Sean Peters CSJ summarize the results of various studies of U.S. religious life funded by the Lilly Endowment and point to issues still to be dealt with. living religiously 276 Cultivating Uselessness Rose Hoover RC proposes that in the very experience of useless-ness and foolishness lies the gift of religious life to a pragmatic society. 282 Therapy for Religious: The Troublesome Triangle Joyce Harris OSC offers some suggestions for a collaborative rela-tionship among therapist, the individual religious, and the com-munity and its representative. 289 294 Prenovitiate: Theory and Practice Anthony Steel SSG believes a prenovitiate program can help meet the challenges of contemporary cultural attitudes toward religious life and outlines the plan for his community. report U.S. Hispanic Catholics: Trends and Works 1991 Kenneth Davis OFM Conv reviews the various events and writ-ings in the Catholic Hispanic experience. departments 164 Prisms 303 Canonical Counseh Hermits and Virgins 309 Book Reviews March-April 1992 163 prisms Teilhard de Chardin in The Divine Milieu observes that the larger half of our lives is made up of what happens to us. His observation comes home to us each year as we celebrate the great high holy days of Christianity-- Holy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and Easter Sunday. Paradoxically Jesus accomplishes the work of redemption, his life's purpose, in what happens to him in his suffering, death, and resurrection. We enter into this paradox by our celebration of these days. We cannot change history, we cannot undo what has happened. Our celebration allows us in our own time to enter into what happened to Jesus and to be with him, to stand alongside, to feel com-passion- as helplessly as we listen to someone tell of being tortured by a totalitarian regime or as we sit at the bedside of a dying loved one. No activity of ours changes the event; compassionate presence is the difficult but precious gift we can give. Of course it is also our privilege to share in some-one's joy and happiness, as we do when we celebrate the res-urrection victory of Jesus. Despite the fact that so many of us are spectator-sports people, whether in the stadium or in front of the TV set, we are not comfortable being spectators of an evil we can-not eliminate and sometimes even of a happiness which lit-tle touches our lives. We may find other people's parties empty of fun for ourselves, and we may dread visiting a neighbor in the hospital.We would rather not drive through derelict inner-city neighborhoods, we would brush past the homeless person sleeping over heating grates in our down-towns, or we would switch TV channels if the images of starving Sudanese children with distended stomachs are too graphic. The problems seem too large for our efforts to make a difference. Our activity and our emotions seem 164 Review for Religious frozen. Even though we are members of the Body of Christ, we often choose not to see and not to hear. When hostages return exuberantly to waiting families, when a comatose girl revives to the joy of her parents, when government agencies extend unemployment benefits for those hurting in a reces-sion economy, how often do we feel a thrill and utter a prayer of thanks to God? Too often we keep ourselves emotionally distant even from the joys of others around us, probably because they just "happen" and leave us personally unaffected. St. Paul could state, by analogy with our human bodies, that if one member suffers all the members suffer with it; if one member is honored, all the members share its joy. The Easter events challenge us always in what we do and in what happens to us. If God is truly the God of our life, then we find the opportunity of meeting God both in what we set out to do and in what happens to us. Jesus' crucifixion confronts the activist in each of us to question our judgment about our most valued "work." All of our dyings become not the entropy of exhaustive waste, but graced moments of freedom to embrace another givenness of life from our God of life. When St. Paul challenged death--"Where is your sting?"--he did not close his eyes to the evils and losses which all the forms of dying represent. He trumpeted the Easter message that the Christ-redemption event changes not only our attitude but also our ability to value the whole of our life--its successes and accomplishments, its apparent waste matter of sin and failure. As Gospel models, Mary Magdalene (who may have confused sex and love) and Peter (who has grabbed for success and lied for survival) are the first among the evangelizers of this new creation event. Pope John Paul's appeal for a new evangelization takes form in us by our renewed attempt to integrate the active and passive aspects of our daily life. By living faith-lives as "other Christs" we make a dif-ference in what we do and in what we suffer. The call to a new evan-gelization invites us to explore further the struggles of justice and poverty and human living both at our doorstep and in our larger world. Making a difference often seems like planting seeds and hav-ing to wait for things to happen. Easter faith stirs us up in hope, moves us out in action, and integrates us in a compassionate patience. This Easter may the risen Lord embrace us anew with the grace of his passion for life. David L. Fleming sJ March-April 1992 165 WALTER J. BURGHARDT The Spiritual Exercises as a Foundation for Educational Ministry ministry and ministries To speak of basing an educational ministry on the Spiritual Exercises is something of a paradox, an apparent contra-diction. Two things simply do not seem to fit. Are not the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola an experience of the spirit, a thirty-day or eight-day retreat centered on the movement of the Christian soul to heaven, conducted in solitude, far from hustle and bustle, and preferably in silence? And is not a university or college a citadel of the intellect, where the stress is on knowledge, on books, where minds meet in constant conflict, where ideas clash, where noise is in the air, where silence is reserved for a corner of the library? I am not saying that the Spiritual Exercises and the groves of academe are interchangeable terms, that a col-lege or university is a retreat experience, that the class-room is a chapel, that learning is worship. My thesis is that the Spiritual Exercises can be, indeed should be, an exciting foundation for education Jesuit-style. More specif-ically, I see the Spiritual Exercises as a process of conver-sion which in an educational institution aims at altering in students, faculty, and staff (1) their world of learning, the Walter J. Burghardt SJ is director of the Woodstock Theo-logical Center Project Preaching the ffust Word. This article retains the flavor of its original oral presentation made at Creighton University in Omaha, Nebraska, in April 1991. Father Burghardt's address is Manresa-on-Severn; P.O. Box 9; Annapolis, Maryland 21404. 166 Review for Religious life of the mind; (2) their world of loving, their human and reli-gious imagination and affection; (3) their world of living, the life of social realities. Let me explain what I mean in each of these three cases. First, the Spiritual Exercises should alter your world of learn-ing, that is, the life of your mind. You see, basic to the life of the mind, at the root of a university's existence, is a momentous mono-syllable: Why? Why study art and the arts, physical science or political science, law or business or medicine? Now Ignatius does not ask that question in those terms. But "spiritual exercises" he defines as "every way of preparing and disposing" ourselves to remove "all disordered attachments and, after their removal, of seeking and finding God's will in the way we direct our lives.''1 And there definitely are disordered approaches to the life of the mind, strange reasons why some go to college or university or professional school. I am not thinking of the more superficial reasons--college as a four-year Hammer dance2 interrupted by class. I am thinking of an approach to business education guided by a powerful principle: what makes the world go round is economics, and what makes the economy work is greed, the almighty dollar. I am thinking of gifted music and drama students whose aim is fame, the lust for applause, even the TV laugh machine. I am thinking of political-science students whose primary purpose is political power, the thrill in manipulating other men and women. A heart-rending example in this area is Lee Atwater, the manager of George Bush's 1988 presidential campaign who almost single-handedly turned the tide against Dukakis. Not long before his death at forty from a brain tumor on 29 March, this gifted man~ with an incredible instinct for the jugular made this poignant confession: The '80s were about acquiring--acquiring wealth, power, prestige. I know, I acquired more wealth, power and pres-tige than most. But you can acquire all you want and still feel empty. It took a deadly illness to put me eye to eye with that truth, but it is a truth that the country, caught up in its ruthless ambitions and moral decay, can learn on my dime.3 Not that money, fame, power are immoral in themselves; they are not. Without money a university would have little to offer to anyone. Fame makes it easier for the deprived to know you, to beg for the crumbs that fall from your table. Political power makes March-April 1992 167 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry possible not only a Persian Gulf war but legislated housing for the poor. Ignatius forces on the retreatant that insistent mono-syllable: Why? Even more radically, the Spiritual Exercises can keep you from segregating learning into a pigeonhole of its own, divorced from the thrust of the spirit towards God. I do not mean that all of learning becomes a religious enterprise. Vatican II made that quite clear. With Vatican I, it distinguished "'two orders of knowl-edge' which are distinct," declared that "the Church does not indeed forbid that 'when the human arts and sciences are practiced they use their own principles and their proper method, each in its own domain.'" In consequence, the council "affirms the legiti-mate autonomy of human culture and especially of the sciences.''4 My point is, the life of the mind is perilously impoverished if knowledge does not lead to wonder. Not sheer questioning: I wonder if Israel should continue populating the West Bank. In the grasp of wonder I marvel: I am surprised, amazed, delighted, enraptured. It is MaW pregnant by God's Spirit: "My spirit finds delight in God my Savior" (Lk 1:47). It is Magdalen about to touch her risen Jesus: "Master!" (Jn 20:16). It is doubting Thomas discovering his God in the wounds of Jesus. It is Michelangelo striking his sculptured Moses: "Speak!" It is Alexander Fleming fascinated by the very first antibiotic, America thrilling to the first footsteps on the moon. It is Mother Teresa cradling a naked retarded child in the rubble of West Beirut, a crippled old man in the excrement of Calcutta. It is the wonder of a first kiss. Such, sooner or later, should be your reaction to the life of learning, such the wonder that should permeate the life of your mind. Not a new methodology for biology or psychology; simply awe in the presence of a fascinating four-letter reality: life. The multifaceted, myriad miracle of life. Amazement at what breadths and depths there are to being alive--from the architectural artistry of the ant and the grace of a loping panther, through the blind-ing speed of a white marlin and the majestic flight of the bald eagle, to the beating heart of a unique fetus, the inspired imagery of Shakespeare, the fantastic forty-eight measures of Tchaikovsky's "Nutcracker," the transforming insight of Einstein. With such wonder you may hope to touch the pinnacle of knowledge. For, as philosopher Jacques Maritain discovered, the height of human knowing is not conceptual; it is experiential. Man or woman feels God. Yes, feels" God. 168 Review for Religious Am I ignoring Ignatius? Have I been distracted from his Spiritual Exercises? Quite the contrary. The Spiritual Exercises are an adventure in experience, in wonder. With all the power of your mental faculties, you enter the kingdom of contemplation--what contemplative William McNamara called % long loving look at the real." The real: all there is--the things of God, the people of God, God's very self. And the high purpose of all this? To be struck, surprised, stunned by the wonder of it all--from the ecstasy of Eden unspoiled, through sin's rape of the earth and earth's dwellers, to the unique love of God-in-our-flesh pinned to a cross, and our rebirth in his rising from the rock. The net effect? Ignatius's final contemplation, the acme of the Exercises: Learning to Love Like God. Here you touch the heart of Ignatius, his awareness of the ceaseless presence of Christ to our earth--now. "Consider," he counsels, "how [Christ] labors for me in all creatures.''s Not a vague, ultrapious generality. Christ behaves like a worker, a laborer, in each and every creature of his creation. How is it that the Rockies still rise in breathtaking splendor, Venus shines brighter than any star, and oil gushes from the fields of Nebraska? Because a risen Christ gives them being. Not once for all; continuously, day after day. How is it that forsythia can herald the approach of spring, corn turn into hot buttered popcorn for your theater, giant red-woods stalk the California sky? Because an imaginative Christ gives them life. How is it that your Irish setter can smell the game beyond your ken, gulls scavenge your ocean, the shad ascend the waters? Because a sensitive Christ gives them senses. How is it that you, this wondrous wedding of molecules and spirit, can shape an idea or send a skyscraper soaring, unveil mystery in a microscope or telescope, join with another--man or woman or God--in deathless oneness? Because Christ labors in you to give you intelligence and love--intelligence that mimics the mind of God, love that stems from a cross on the outskirts of Jerusalem. A thing of beauty and a joy for ever, this life of the mind. But only if the arts and sciences, if professions like law and medicine and business, that legitimately engross you open you to the still richer reality that surrounds you, invades you, transcends you, gives fresh life to the mind you treasure so rightly, the mind you The life of the mind is perilously impoverished if knowledge does not lead to wonder. March-April 1992 169 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry accept so lightly. Ignatius's Spiritual Exercises are not the only "way to go." But for openers in two senses--a beginning and an opening--as a basis, a foundation, for the life of the mind, the Spiritual Exercises are an experience difficult to exceed. Second, the Spiritual Exercises should alter your world of loving, that is, your human and religious imagination and affec-tion. Basic to this affirmation is a realization: The life of the human spirit is not circumscribed by reason, by your ability to grasp ideas, to draw conclusions from facts and premises. If your intellectual existence is simply a model of Cartesian clarity, you are limping along on one leg. What is the lamentable lacuna? Imagination. What is this strange creature we call imagination?6 To begin with, what is imagination not? It is not the same thing as fantasy. Fantasy has come to mean the grotesque, the bizarre. That is fan-tastic which is unreal, irrational, wild, unrestrained. We speak of "pure fantasy": It has no connection with reality. It is imagination run wild, on the loose, unbridled, uncontained.7 What is it, then? Imagination is the capacity we have "to make the material an image of the immaterial or spiritual.''8 It is a cre-ative power. You find it in Rembrandt's self-portraits, in Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, in the odor of a new rose or the flavor of an old wine. You find it in dramatists like Aeschylus and Shakespeare, in poets from Sappho to Gerard Manley Hopkins, in storytellers like C.S. Lewis and Stephen King. Now, when I say "capacity," I do not mean a "faculty" like intellect or will. I mean rather a posture of my whole person towards my experience.9 It is a way of seeing. It is, as with Castaneda, looking for the holes in the world or listening to the space between sounds. It is a breaking through the obvious, the surface, the superficial, to the reality beneath and beyond. It is the world of wonder and intuition, of amazement and delight, of fes-tivity and play. How does imagination come to expression? Let me focus on specifically religious imagination. I sketch five ways. 1. A vision. I mean "the emergence either in dreams, trance, or ecstasy, of a pattern of images, words, or dreamlike dramas which are experienced then, and upon later reflection, as having revelatory significance." 10 Examples? Isaiah's vision of the Lord in the temple (Is 6); Moses and Elijah appearing to Jesus and the disciples on the Mount of Transfiguration (Mt 17:1-9); Joan of Arc's "voices"; St. Margaret Mary's vision of the Sacred Heart. 170 Review for Religious 2. Ritual. The form of ritual is action--public, dramatic, pat-terned. A group enacts the presence of the sacred and partici-pates in that presence, usually through some combination of dance, chant, sacrifice, or sacrament.11 3. Story. I mean a narrative, a constellation of images, that recounts incidents or events. As Sallie TeSelle put it, "We all love a good story because of the basic nar-rative quality of human experience: in a sense any story is about ourselves, and a good story is good precisely because somehow it rings true to human life . We recognize our pilgrimage from here to there in a good story.''12 For the religious imagina-tion, three types of stories are particularly impor-tant: parable, allegory, and myth; the parables of Jesus, Lewis's "Chronicles of Narnia," and the Creation myth.13 4. The fine arts. I mean painting and poetry, sculpture and architecture, music, dancing, and dra-matic art. I mean da Vinci and John Donne, the "PietY" and Chartres, Beethoven's "Missa Solemnis," David whirling and skipping before the Ark of the Covenant, the mystery dramas of the Middle Ages. I mean films. 5. Symbol. What symbol means is not easy to say, for even within theology it does not have a univocal sense. Let me define it, with Avery Dulles, as "an externally perceived sign that works mysteriously on the human consciousness so as to suggest more than it can clearly describe or define." 14 Not every sign is a sym-bol. A mere indicator ("This way to the art museum") is not a symbol. "The symbol is a sign pregnant with a depth of meaning which is evoked rather than explicitly stated.''is It might be an artifact, a person, an event, words, a story--parable, allegory, myth. The importance of symbols, of imagination, in a university? I make three points. First, imagination is not at odds with knowl-edge; imagination is a form of cognition. In Whitehead's words, "Imagination is not to be divorced from the facts; it is a way of illuminating the facts.''16 True, it is not a process of reasoning; it is not abstract thought, conceptual analysis, rational demonstra-tion, syllogistic proof. Notre Dame of Paris is not a thesis in the-ology; Lewis's famous trilogy does not demonstrate the origin of evil; Hopkins is not analyzing God's image in us when he sings Imagination is not at odds with knowledge; imagination is a form of cognition. Marcb-April 1992 171 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry that "Christ plays in ten thousand places, / Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his / To the Father through the features of men's faces.''17 And still, imaging and imagining is a work of our intellectual nature; through it our spirit reaches the true, the beautiful, and the good. Second, imagination does not so much teach as evoke; it calls something forth from you. And so it is often ambiguous; the image can be understood in different ways. Do you remember the reporters who asked Martha Graham, "Miss Graham, what does your dance mean?" She replied: "Darlings, if I could tell you, I would not have danced it!" Something is lost when we move from imagining to thinking, from art to conceptual clarity. Not that imagination is arbitrary, that "Swan Lake" or the Infancy Narrative or "Hamlet" or the Transfiguration is whatever anyone wants to make of it, my gut feeling. Hostile to a valid imagina-tion is "the cult of imagination for itself alone; vision, phantasy, ecstasy for their own sakes; creativity, spontaneity on their own, without roots, without tradition, without discipline.''1~ Amos Wilder was right: "Inebriation is no substitute for paideia.''19 And still it is true, the image is more open-ended than the con-cept, less confining, less imprisoning. The image evokes our own imagining. Third, religion itself is a system of symbols. As sociologist Andrew Greeley saw, "religion was symbol and story long before it became theology and philosophy and., the poetry of religion was not inferior to its prose but rather anterior to it and, in terms of the whole human person, in some ways superior to it.''2° Biblical revelation is highly symbolic. Skim the Hebrew Scriptures: a burning bush, the miracles of the Exodus, the theo-phanies of Sinai, the "still small voice" heard by Elijah, the visions of the prophets and seers. Scan the New Testament: the circum-stances surrounding Jesus' conception and birth, the descent of the Spirit in the form of a dove, the transfiguration, Calvary, the res-urrection. Take key themes like the kingdom of God, its expres-sion in Jesus' proverbial sayings, in the Lord's Prayer, in the Gospel parables. The kingdom is not a clear concept with a uni-vocal significance. It is a symbol that "can represent or evoke a whole range or series of conceptions or ideas.''21 Turn from Scripture to the Catholic-Protestant problematic. Greeley's research persuades him that "the fundamental differ-ences between Catholicism and Protestantism are not doctrinal or 172 Review for Religious ethical" but "differing sets of symbols.''22 Take the central symbol: God.23 The classical literature of the Catholic tradition assumes a God who is present in the world, disclosing Himself in and through creation. The world and all its events, objects, and people tend to be somewhat like God. The Protestant classics, on the other hand, assume a God who is radically absent from the world and who discloses Herself only on rare occasions (especially in Jesus Christ and Him cruci-fied). The world and all its events, objects, and people tend to be radically different from God.24 Even more concretely, Greeley insists, their different images of God account for different religious behavior between Catholics and Protestants. In the Protestant imagination God is perceived as distant (father, judge, king, master); in the Catholic imagination God is perceived as present (mother, lover, friend, spouse).2s Another crucial example: two approaches to human society shaped by different imaginative pictures. The Catholic tends to see society as a "sacrament" of God, a set of ordered relationships, governed by both justice and love, that reveal, however imperfectly, the presence of God. Society is "natural" and "good," therefore, for humans and their natural response to God is social. The Protestant, on the other hand, tends to see human society as "God-for-saken" and therefore unnatural and oppressive. The indi-vidual stands over against society and not integrated into it. The human becomes fully human only when he is able to break away from social oppression and relate to the absent God as a completely free individual.26 A final example from Greeley's sociological research: The image that most sharply distinguishes the Catholic tradition from other Christian traditions is Mary the mother of Jesus. No one else has Madonna statues in church. MaW is essen-tial to Catholicism, not perhaps on the level of doctrine but surely on the level of imagination, because she more than any other image blatantly confirms the sacramental instinct: the whole of creation and all its processes, especially its lifegiving and life-nurturing processes, reveal the lurking and passionate love of God.27 Once again, have I been distracted from Ignatius and his Spiritual Exercises? Not really. The Exercises, for all their appeal to the Christian intelligence, are not a head trip. They are first and foremost an experience. An experience of Catholic symbols: Adam and Eve and Eden, angels and Satan, hellfire, a virgin and a crib, March-April 1992 173 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry The events of Jesus" earthly existence must be seen as a 'today." Egypt and Jerusalem, the transfiguration, bread and wine, blood and water from the side of Christ, nail marks in risen hands, an ascension into heaven. But the experience is not cold reason. Take the experience of sin's devastating impact on angels and humans, sin's ravishing of God's good earth. When you go through the Spiritual Exercises, you do not simply define sin, recall a traditional definition: any thought, word, or action against God's law. Your senses get into the act: you smell sin's stench. Even more importantly, you see sin's cost, image it, weep over it; for sin's cost is a cross, the pierced hands of a God-man. The God-man. The Exercises are a constant contemplation--contemplation of Christ. Never abstract theology, though theology informs it all. In Bethlehem's cave you are a servant; you not only listen to Mary and Joseph, you "smell the infinite flagrance and taste the infinite sweetness of the divinity.''28 You flee with that unique family into Egypt, feel what it means to be a refugee in the Middle East. In a decisive meditation you not only contrast "two standards," two scenarios for orienting your life. The standards take flesh in two persons: in a Satan who inspires "horror and terror," who makes you lust for riches, for honor, for pride; and in a living Christ who attracts you to poverty, insults, and humil-ity.: 9 It is not only Jesus who is tempted in the wilderness; you wrestle with your personal devils, sweat through the temptations that jolted Jesus: Use your powers, your gifts, your possessions just for your own fantastic self, for the sweet smell of success. Like the sinful woman, you wash our Lord's feet with your tears, feel your sins forgiven because you too have "loved much" (Lk 7:47). And so into Christ's passion, which you no longer study with scholarly detachment, comparing different traditions, reconcil-ing inconsistencies. Ignatius wants you to feel: grief and shame indeed, "because the Lord is going to his suffering for [your] sins,''3° but even, if possible, the kiss that betrayed him, the nails that held him fast. And finally, joy in the risen Christ. Not sim-ply a sense of relief; rather your whole being bursting with new life, his life, as you share his rising with his Mother, try to touch him with Magdalen, munch seafood with him and the Eleven. This is not simply your own picture show, on a level with 174 Review for Religious Kevin Costner "Dancing with !/Volves.''31 Ignatius playing with your capacity to imagine is attempting something terribly signif-icant psychologically and spiritually. This "application of the senses" goes back to a medieval tradition that reached Ignatius through a book he read while convalescing from cannon wounds back at Loyola.32 The unknown Franciscan author had written: If you wish to draw profit from these meditations., make everything that the Lord Jesus said and did present to your-self, just as though you were hearing it with your ears and seeing it with your eyes . And even when it is related in the past tense you should contemplate it all as though pres-ent today. VChy is this highly significant for an intelligent spirituality? Because you are no longer looking at the life of Christ sheerly as history, something that took place in the past. The events of Jesus' earthly existence must be seen as a "today," the historical hap-penings drawn into your own world here and now. That is how you achieve not abstract knowledge but what the medievals called "familiarity with Christ," an understanding that takes hold not only of discursive reasoning but of the whole person. Imagination leads to love--a direct experience of love. Ignatius films in living color what Aquinas phrased in attractive abstraction: There are two ways of desiring knowledge. One way is to desire it as a perfection of one's self; and that is the way philosophers desire it. The other way is to desire it not [merely] as a perfection of one's self but because through this knowledge the one we love becomes present to us; and that is the way saints desire it.34 Third, the Spiritual Exercises should alter your world of liv-ing, that is, the life of social realities. Here three facets call for clarification: social realities, the Exercises, and you. What do I mean by social realities? I mean the life of a soci-ety, the life that moves beyond the individual in isolation to com-munity, people interacting, impacting one on another, human persons depending on one another. How do the Spiritual Exercises touch social realities? After all, did not Ignatius himself describe the Exercises as "every way of preparing and disposing" ourselves to remove "all disordered attachments and, after their removal, of seeking and finding God's will in the way we direct our lives"?3s This sounds rather indi-vidualistic, does it not? Or, at best, quite vague. March-April 1992 175 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry I am aware that in 1975 the 32nd General Congregation of Jesuits declared, "The mission of the Society of Jesus today is the service of faith, of which the promotion of justice is an absolute requirement.''36 And it went on to assert a bit later: Every sector of our educational works should be subjected to constant review, so that they will not only continue to form young people and adults able and willing to build a more just social order, but do so ever more effectively. Especially should we help form our Christian students as "men [and women]-for-others" in a mature faith and in per-sonal attachment to Jesus Christ, persons whose lively faith impels them to seek and find Christ in the service of their fellow men [and women]. Thus we shall contribute to form-ing persons who will themselves multiply the work of world-wide education.-~7 But our specific question remains: Granted that our colleges should prepare women and men to construct a more just social order, how do the Spiritual Exercises lay a foundation for the social-justice component of Jesuit education? Almost a half century ago, a young Jesuit who had not yet taken his final vows in the Society was asked by his provincial to direct the annual eight-day retreat for the Jesuit theology stu-dents at Alma in California. In the course of the retreat, director Father George H. Dunne reflected on a number of social issues. Dealing with the Sermon on the Mount, for example, and the two great commandments, he "talked about poverty, peace, war, not in the abstract but in the concrete." He "talked about anti- Semitism, Hitler's holocaust, racial segregation, the rat-infested tenements in New York, the exploitation of migrant farm work-ers, the Spanish Civil War, the anguish of the world's poor . -38 Not long after, he received a letter from the representative of the Jesuit superior general for the American provinces during World War II. Father Zacheus J. Maher charged Father Dunne with substituting for the Spiritual Exercises a series of "brilliant talks on social subjects." "Such subjects," he declared, "have no place in the Spiritual Exercises.''> Let us make an admission: Our neighbor, the wider society, is not explicit in the text of the Exercises.4° Not surprising; for the Exercises "are addressed to individuals, and they seek to enable a person to have the interior freedom to serve God . -41 But if you delve more deeply, you discover how profoundly social, societal, the Exercises are. 176 Review for Religious You see, the Ignatian meditations point you ceaselessly to Christ, to the Christ of the Gospels, in that way to absorb the mind of Christ. And so you focus on the programmatic scene in Nazareth's synagogue, where Jesus makes his own the announce-ment in Isaiah: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, for he has anointed me. He has sent me to preach good news to the poor, to proclaim release for pris-oners and sight for the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, and to proclaim the Lord's year of favor" (Lk 4:1 8-1 9).42 Through the Exercises that program ceases to be pecu-liarly Jesus'; it becomes your own. What Second Isaiah announced to the people of his day Jesus announces to the poor and impris-oned, the blind and deprived of his day. And this is what Christians in the mold of Ignatius announce to the downtrodden of their day. With Ignatius in the final Contemplation for Learning to Love Like God, you ponder profoundly how Christ "labors for [you] in all creatures on the face of the earth, that is, he behaves like one who labors. In the heav-ens, the elements, the plants, the fruits, the cattle, [man and woman], he gives being, conserves them in existence, confers life and sensation, and so on.''43 And you ask to labor with Christ as he ceaselessly creates, recreates, redeems a fallen world. Last Easter a Catholic professor of history ended his regular column in a diocesan newspaper with two puzzling sentences: "When Jesus rose from the dead, he did not go about lecturing on the social problems of his day. Instead he manifested himself in glory to his disciples in a manner that empowered them to go forth as his courageous emissaries.''44 But neither did the risen Jesus go about celebrating the Eucharist and fingering his rosary. And what did he empower them to go forth to do? To baptize indeed; to preach what he preached. But did he not preach loving your sisters and brothers as Jesus loved you? Does such loving have nothing to do with war on the womb or war in the Middle East? Nothing to do with inhuman poverty or child abuse? Nothing to do with racism or the rape of the earth? What you should experience through the Exercises is that by God's design and initiative human existence is fundamentally social, societal:4s we are "we" before we are "I" and "thou." This By God's design and initiative human existence is fundamentally social, societal. March-April 1992 177 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry is central in Christian revelation and of primary importance for our contemporary culture of individualism, where we think first of self and then how we can join with others in community--as though community did not precede the individual genetically, psychically, socially, and spiritually.46 Even Catholic social teach-ing frequently fails to position this fact front and center, because it lays down as primary in its social ethics the "dignity of the human person, who is made to the image of God." From there the teaching argues to the God-invested rights of the individual which other individuals and institutions must respect. This misses the point of the Genesis story (on which it is often based) that the "Adam" who is given such dignity is not an individual but "the hmnan," our whole race in personification.47 How does all this touch us? Very simply, a university or col-lege ought to be not only the seedbed of learning and imagination; it should be the boot camp of our societal existence. The Jesuit educational ideal is not the intellectual mole who lives almost entirely underground, surfaces occasionally for fresh air and a Big Mac, burrows back down to the earthworms before people can distract him. No. A college is where young men and women who may one day profoundly influence America's way of life touch, some for the first time, the ruptures that sever us from our earth, from our sisters and brothers, from our very selves. Not simply in an antiseptic classroom, for all its high importance for under-standing. Even more importantly, experience of rupture: experi-ence not only of ecology but of an earth irreparably ravaged, not only abstract poverty but the stomach-bloated poor, not only the words "child abuse" but the vacant stare of the child abused, not only a book on racism but the hopelessness or hatred in human hearts. To yearn for such experience, I know no better introduc-tion than experiencing the Christ of the Spiritual Exercises, the conversion consequent on seeing Christ more clearly, loving him more dearly. Can you get a 4.0, be learned, a scholar, without such a con-version? Undoubtedly. Can you make megabucks in business or law, in medicine or government without such a conversion? Undoubtedly. Can you marry well, raise two and a half children, treat them to an Ivy school education without such a conversion? Undoubtedly. Can you be deliriously happy without such a con-version? Undoubtedly. Can you live an integrated human and Christian existence without such a conversion? I doubt it. 178 Review for Religious Notes i Spiritual Exercises 1; translation partially mine. 2 Reference to a type of dancing currently in high favor with the young and involving amazing hyperactivity. 3 Thomas B. Edsall, "GOP Battler Lee Atwater Dies at 40," Washington Post, 30 March 1991, 1 and 7. 4 Second Vatican Council, Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, no. 59. s Spiritual Exercises 236. For Christ as the "creator and Lord" of this contemplation, see Hugo Rahner SJ, Ignatius the Theologian (New York: Herder and Herder, 1968 / San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1991), p. 134. 6 Here I am drawing largely, but not entirely, on material in nay book Preaching: The Art and the Craft (New York/Mahwah: Paulist, 1987), pp. 19-25. 7 I am aware that fantasy does not have to mean the bizarre; I am speaking of a com~non current usage. The development was concisely expressed in l/Vebster's New International Dictionary of the English Language (2nd ed. unabridged; Springfield, Mass.: Merriam, 1958), p. 918: "From the conception of fantasy as the faculty of mentally reproducing sensible objects, the meaning appears to have developed into: first, false or delu-sive mental creation; and second, any senselike representation in the mind, equivalent to the less strict use of imagination and fancy. Later fan-tasy acquired, also, a somewhat distinctive usage, taking over the sense of whimsical, grotesque, or bizarre image making. This latter sense, however, did not attach itself to the variant phantasy, which is used for visionary or phantasmic imagination." See also Urban T. Hohnes III, Ministry and Imagination (New York: Seabury, 1976), pp. 100-103. ~ Holmes, ibid, pp. 97-98. Here Holmes is a&nittedly borrowing from Owen Barfield, Saving the Appearances: A Study in Idolatry (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, n.d.). 9 See Holmes, ibid, p. 88. 10 Theodore W. Jennings Jr., Introduction to Theology: An Invitation to Reflection upon the Christian Mythos (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1976), p. 49. 1~ See ibid, p. 52. 12 Sallie M. TeSelle, cited by Holmes, Ministry and Imagination, p. 166, from the Journal of the American Academy of Religion 42 (1974): 635. ~3 Lest the reader be unduly disturbed, myth is not opposed to fact or to fancy. Its raw material tnay he fact or it may be fancy; in either case it intends "to narrate the fundamental structure of human being in the world. By the concreteness of its imagery, the universality of its intention, its narrative or stoW form, the myth evokes the identification and par-ticipation of those for whom it functions as revelatory" (Jennings, Introduction to Theology, pp. 51-52). ~4 Avery Dulles SJ, "The Symbolic Structure of Revelation," March-April 1992 179 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry Theological Studies 41 (1980): 55-56. Dulles studies the five dominant approaches to revelation: the propositional, historical, mystical, dialecti-cal, and symbolic--with greatest stress on the symbolic. He asks how in each theory revelation is mediated and what kind of truth it has. He con-cludes that in Christ the five aspects coalesce in a kind of unity, but insists that the first four are reconciled and held in unity through the symbolic facet. ~s Ibid, p. 56. 16 A. N. Whitehead, The Aims of Education and Other Essays (New York: Macmillan, 1929), p. 139. 17 Gerard Manley Hopkins, "As kingfishers catch fire. ," Poem 57 in W. H. Gardner and N.H. Mackenzie, eds., The Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins (London: Oxford University, 1970), p. 90. ~ Amos Niven Wilder, Theopoetic: Theology and the Religious Imagination (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1976), p. 57. ~') Ibid, p. 67. ~,0 Andrew M. Greeley, The Catholic Myth: The Behavior and Beliefs of American Catholics (New York: Scribner's, 1990), p. 37. 21 Norman Perrin, Jesus and the Language of the Kingdom (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1976), p. 33. ~2 Greeley, The Catholic ~Vlyth, p. 44. 23 Here Greeley (p. 45) admits his dependence on David Tracy's The Analogical Imagination (New York: Crossroad, 1981). 24 Greeley, The C)ttholic Myth, p. 45. ~5 See ibid, p. 55. 26 Ibid, p. 45. Hcre, too, Greeley is indebted to David Tracy. Note Greeley's warning to his readers that the word "tend" is "used advisedly. Zero-sum relationships do not exist in the world of the preconscious" (ibid). -,7 Ibid, p. 253. See p. 254: "I argue., that the obvious functional role of Mary the mother of Jesus in the Catholic tradition is to reflect the mother love of God." For detailed presentation of the origins and func-tion of the Mary symbol, see Greeley's The Mary Myth (New York: Seabury, 1977). 2~ Spiritual Exercises 124; text from Louis J. Puhl sJ, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius (Chicago: Loyola University, 195 I), p. 55. 29 Spiritual Exercises 140, 146 (Puhl, pp. 60, 62). 30 Spiritual Exercises 193 (Puhl, p. 81). 31 A current fihn that made off with a number of Academy awards. 3~ The book was Meditationes vitae Christi, long attributed to St. Bonaventure but actually composed by an unknown Franciscan of the fourteenth century; see Rahner, Ignatius the Theologian (n. 5 above), pp. 192-193. Quoted from Rahner, ibid, p. 193. 180 Review for Religious 34 1 have not been able as yet to document this text. 3s Spiritual Exercises 1 ; translation partially mine. 36 Documents of the Thirty-second General Congregatio,z of the Society of Jesus, 2 December 1974--7 March 1975 I, 4 (Washington, D.C.: Jesuit Conference, [1975]), p. 17. 37 Ibid, I, 4, pp. 35-36. 38 King's Pawn: The Memoirs of George H. Dunue, s.J. (Chicago: Loyola University, 1990), p. 70. 39 Ibid, pp. 69, 70. q0 See useful material in Dean Brackley SJ, "Downward Mobility: Social Implications of St. Ignatius's Two Standards," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 20, no. 4 (January 1988): 53; also in Thomas E. Clark SJ, "Ignatian Spirituality and Societal Consciousness," ibid, 7, no. 4 (September 1975): 127-150. 4~ Brackley, "Downward Mobility," p. 12. 42 On this episode see Joseph A. Fitzmyer SJ, The Gospel according to Luke (I-IX) (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1981), p. 529: "Luke had deliberately put this story [4:16-30] at the beginning of the public min-istry to encapsulate the entire ministry of Jesus and the reaction to it." 43 Spiritual Exercises 236; translation partially mine. 44james Hitchcock in St. Louis Review, 29 March 1991, p. 11. 4s See Clarke (n. 40 above), pp. 128-129, for the advantages of the adjective "societal" over "social" in reference to apostolate and ministry. "Social" efforts "seek immediately and personally to alleviate the misery of those individuals who are deprived." "Societal" activity "concerns itself immediately with the healing and transformation of those human struc-tures, institutions, processes, and environments which draw persons into misery or make it difficult for them to emerge from it." 46 See Matthew Lamb, "The Social and Political Dimensions of Lonergan's Theology," in Vernon Gregson, ed., The Desires of the Human Heart (New York/Mahwah: Paulist, 1988), p. 270. 471 owe this paragraph to notes of James L. Connor sJ, director of the Woodstock Theological Center, Washington, D.C., prepared for the inau-gural retreat of my project Preaching the Just Word, an effort to move the preaching of social-justice issues more effectively into the Catholic pul-pits of the United States. March-April 1992 181 MELANNIE SVOBODA Going the Distance, Sustaining the Gift an one of her newspaper columns, Ellen Goodman describes pheno~nenon called "compassion fatigue." This occurs when people who are normally sensitive and generous get "tired of caring." Most Americans, Goodman maintains, are very caring in emergencies. She writes: "We are great at performing the one-night stands for causes. Christmas dinner for the poor, collec-tions for victims of fire or flood or famine." But if the emergency situation becomes chronic, many of us find it difficult to sustain our initial level of concern. When compassion fatigue sets in, says Goodman, "A gift can begin to feel like an obligation, generosity can turn into resentment, and sympathy can turn hard." I think Goodman's article has definite implications for those of us involved in ministry in the church. Let us face it: most of us are in ministry not for a one-night stand. We are in it for years, maybe even for life. The problems we deal with every day--igno-rance, poverty, injustice, sickness, violence--will not go away overnight--or even in a matter of a few years. So the question we have to ask ourselves is: How do we keep our compassion alive over the long haul? How do we fan the flame of enthusiasm for a lifetime of service in the church? Before I suggest some ways of doing this, I would like to say a few words about why. For everything I say is based on the premise Melannie Svoboda SND, with whom our readers are well acquainted, resides at Notre Dame Academy; Route One, Box 197; Middleburg, Virginia 22117. 182 Review for Religious that coinpassion and enthusiasm are essential for ministry in the church. Without them, ministry is at best a mere show and at worst a perversion of the very Gospel we claim to proclaim. To illustrate this fact, I tried to come up with an image of ministry as compassionate, generous, and enthusiastic--and not something performed out of a sense of obligation and even with resentment. The image I came up with may appear an unlikely one: feeding chickens! But let me explain. Feeding Chickens I was born and raised on a small goose farm in Willoughby Hills, Ohio. That rural "initial formation" continues to influence my outlook on life. On our farm we had hundreds of white Emden geese. It was my father and brothers who had the job of feeding them. But we also had a couple dozen chickens, and the task of feeding them usually fell to my mother, my sister, or me. Now what is the connection between feeding chickens and ministering in today's church? Simple. The way I see it, there are three essential elements to proper chicken feeding (and, I might add, to proper church ministry). First, there is the feed itself--the corn, the mash, whatever. The feed is the gift we bring to the chickens. More than that, it is their source of nourishment, of life itself. Without too much of a stretch of the imagination, we can say that the chicken feed is the "good news" we bring each day to our chickens. The second element of chicken feeding involves calling the chickens. We have to get their attention, alert them to the feed we have for them. But a good chicken feeder goes beyond merely calling the chickens. He or she establishes a relationship with them. The feeder talks to the chickens, even thanking them for the fine eggs they have been laying. For a good chicken feeder (like a good church minister) is always aware of being a receiver as well as a giver. The third element of chicken feeding (and of ministry) is the actual broadcasting of the feed. How does an experienced chicken feeder broadcast the feed? Eagerly, generously, unsparingly. Now that is an image of ministry at its best, ministry with compassion and enthusiasm. Ministry at its worst would be the person who sets out to feed the chickens grumbling and mum-bling the whole way to the chicken coop. "I have got to feed those March-April 1992 183 Svoboda ¯ Going the Distance stupid chickens--again. I just fed them yesterday. They're never satisfied. All they do is eat, eat, eat. What good are they, any-way?" Such a feeder might not even call the chickens, thinking: "If I don't call them, maybe they won't come, and then I won't have to feed them." But, of course, the chickens do come, called or uncalled. And how does this kind of feeder broadcast the feed? Perhaps sparingly: "A kernel for you, a kernel for you . " Or angrily, throwing handfuls of feed down on the ground in dis-gust. Or hastily, dumping the whole pail of feed in one spot, just to get the job over with. That is an image of ministry when compassion fatigue has set in. I maintain that ministering in such a way is a contradiction of the Gospel. For we are called to proclaim the good news, not the "ho-hum" news, not the "halfway decent" news. We are called to love the people to whom we minister, not "put up with" them or view them as a nuisance. If we can no longer minister with gen-uine compassion or with vibrant enthusiasm, then maybe we should not be ministering. Years ago I had a Scripture teacher who made this point very clear. He said that on a given day we might wake up crabby, dis-couraged, depressed, mad at the whole world and every human being in it. On such a morning, maybe we should call the office, the school, or the parish and say in all honesty and humility, "I won't be in. I cannot in conscience represent the Gospel today." The suggestion, though perhaps a little extreme, does make a salient point: an anti-sign to the Gospel is probably worse than no sign at all. In other words, if our words, attitude, and whole bear-ing contradict the Good News we represent, then maybe we should not be representing it. Compassion and enthusiasm are requisites for effective min-istry. What, then, are some ways we can "go the distance" and "sustain our gift" of ministering? There are, no doubt, many ways. Here, I suggest four. Retaining the Big Picture The first way is to retain the big picture. Sometimes we lose enthusiasm for our ministry because our perspective becomes too narrow, our vision myopic. We lose sight of the big picture and get enmeshed in the near at hand, the petty, the nitty-gritty. In his book The Art of Choosing, Carlos ~Galles SJ reminds us how impor- 184 Review for Reli~4ous rant it is in life to have a sense of direction. He describes "a lovely little habit" that Ignatius had of stopping himself physically in the middle of a hall and asking himself, "Where am I going? And what for?" That habit was one way Ignatius had of connecting a seemingly insignificant action--going to the dining room to eat, heading for chapel to pray, or walking down the hall to a meet-ing-- with the bigger picture of ministering to God's people. The practice is a good one: regularly and consciously to make ourselves see our daily small actions as part of a greater whole. Recently I watched an artist painting a large mural of a sunrise. I noticed how frequently she stepped back from her work to gain a broader perspective. Then she would step forward, add a few more strokes with the paint roller, and step back again for another look. We must do the same thing in our ministry. Sometimes God seems to provide us with opportunities to do this: after a suc-cessful activity, after an apparent failure, at the time of a transfer or change in ministry, or during a serious illness. But we can also do this more regularly: during an annual retreat or a monthly day of recollection, in the morning before we begin our day, or in the evening before we crawl (or fall) into bed. The habit of ask-ing "Where am I going (or where have I been today) and what for?" will put us in touch with the real zvhat and v:hatfor of our ministry, thus enabling us to catch at least a glimpse of how our "daily chores" fit into the big picture of God's grand design. Seeing Babies A second way of retaining our compassion and enthusiasm I call: seeing babies and not diapers. A priest told me once that a young mother came to him very discouraged and worn out. "I'm sick and tired of changing diapers," she cried. The priest thought for a moment and then gently suggested, "Next time don't change the diaper. Change the baby." He was not being "celibately sar-castic." He was pointing out to her a lesson in perspective. We have to see the tasks we do in relation to the individual human beings for whom we do them. During a retreat another priest told this true stoW. A teenage boy was seriously injured in a car accident. When the parish priest was notified, he immediately went to the hospital to see the boy. When the priest walked in, the boy said, "Father, if you've come here for God's sake, then for God's sake, get out! But if you have March-April 1992 185 Svoboda ¯ Going the Distance come here because you think I am worth it, then please stay." The priest stayed. Maybe for too long we overemphasized "All for the greater honor and glory of God." That phrase certainly encapsulates a marvelous truth, but, like most truths, even that one needs another truth to balance it. In our ministry we do not bypass the human beings we serve. We do not overlook them. We do not use them to win God's favor. We must remember, we minister not to parishes, schools, hospitals, or dioceses. We minister to individ-ual human beings--to Vera, Frank, Carlos, Heather--and each of them is worth it. Getting Support A third way we sustain our gift of ministry is: We get sup-port. The venerable tradition of rugged individualism that helped found this great nation will not "cut it" in ministry. The truth is, we cannot "go it alone." Fortunately, our contemporary times, with its emphasis on support groups, reminds us of this truth. I came to appreciate the importance of support groups when I became a flee-lance writer. Before that I had been a full-time high school teacher for many years. As a teacher I had a built-in support group: the other teachers on the faculty. But when I seri-ously began to write as part of my ministry, I suddenly felt terri-bly isolated and alone. It became difficult for me to sit in front of my typewriter (and later tny computer) for two or three hours a day and write, for I would recall working for hours on a piece only to have it fizzle into nothingness. Or I would send out arti-cles and stories enthusiastically only to have them lost, mutilated, or rejected. Finally I knew I needed support in my ministry--and more than the occasional acceptance letter offers. So I attended some writers' conferences and hooked up with a few other people who write for publication. I rely on these friends for the under-standing and encouragement that only a fellow writer can give. In his book The Four Loves, C.S. Lewis writes beautifully about the origin of a friendship. He says a friendship originates when two people, often engaged in a common task, disclose some-thing of their inner selves to each other. They turn to each other in amazement and say, "You, too?" We in church ministry need to experience that "you-too?-ness" with others who are engaged in the same or similar ministry. 186 Review for Religious Being More than a Minister A fourth way we can go the distance in our ministry is to be more than a minister. We probably all agree that we are more than we do, and that we are far more valuable than what we pro-duce. But an effective minister does more than give intellectual assent to that truth. He or she makes decisions based on it. He or she takes time to be more than a minister, knowing how pathetic it is if a minister's identity is restricted to a particular job or title. There is always a danger of turning even church work into an end in itself. Workaholism is alive and well in most business organizations and (we have to admit with sadness) also in our church. The problem is, workaholism, though a real addiction, looks a lot like dedication. If a minister in the church is addicted to alcohol or gambling or food or sex, chances are someone (or someones) sooner or later will intervene to help that person. But if a minister is addicted to work~staying up all hours of the night, never taking time for a break or vacation, never socializing with people in a nonwork setting--we sometimes let him or her go on. Or even worse, we praise that person, thus encouraging the addiction. In this regard, we should recall that the primary biblical image of heaven is not an office, not a school, not a parish. It is a party, a banquet. If all we do our whole life is work, work, work, chances are we are going to feel extremely out of place in heaven. We will not know what to do, how to let go, how to have fun. No, we ministers should learn how to be party people while we are still here on earth--even as we minister. We work hard, yes, knowing full well that our ministry cannot always be restricted to certain office hours. But we also know how to get away, how to enjoy people and have fun. The Cross, the Cost So far we have looked at four ways to help prevent compas-sion fatigue in our ministry. But there is one more word I wish to say about compassion fatigue: sometimes it is the cross we bear, the cost we pay. Our fatigue is not always a sign that we are doing something wrong. Sometimes it is a sign that we are doing some-thing right. Our periodic fatigue and occasional discouragement put us in touch with our limits. And experiencing our limits is vital to effective ministry. Otherwise we run the risk of living in March-April 1992 187 Svoboda ¯ Going the Distance illusion, of beginning to think that we are responsible for the good we do or that we are the "good news" we proclaim--and not Jesus. Our ministry, in order to be authentic, must cost us some-thing-- in time, in energy, in love. I am reminded of that seem-ingly insignificant incident in the story of David at the end of the second book of Samuel. David, nearing the end of his life, goes to a man named Araunah and asks to buy his threshing place in order to build an altar there for the Lord. Araunah tells David, "Take it, Your Majesty." And he offers to give several oxen, too, all free of charge. But David refuses to accept Araunah's gifts. He insists on paying for everything, saying, "I will not offer the Lord my God sacrifices that have cost me nothing." At times we all get weary in our ministry. Our fatigue, loneliness, or discouragement are part of the cost of our love and service of others, part of the sacrifice we make regularly to God for the privilege of serving in the church. The Ministry of Jesus How does all of this relate to the person of Jesus? How did he remain loving and alive throughout his ministry? First of all, Jesus had the big picture. He possessed an amazingly expansive view of reality. He looked at a crude fisherman and saw a great leader. He observed the birds in the air and comprehended God's provident care. He beheld a sinful woman and recognized her as a woman who loved much. Jesus was always ready to adjust his perspective, to align it ever more closely with that of the Father. Nowhere is that more clearly seen than in Gethsemane. Jesus' initial reaction to his impending crucifixion was "Please let this pass!" But by let-ting go of his limited perspective, he could say, "Your will be done"; in other words, "I embrace your point of view." Jesus saw babies and not diapers. That is, he focused on indi-vidual people and not on the immense task he had to perform. The Gospels show Jesus speaking to large crowds, of course, but more often they show him relating to individuals: the twelve apos-tles, the man with a withered hand, a centurion, a demoniac, Simon's mother-in-law, a particular deaf man, a grieving widow, an epileptic, Jairus, Nicodemus, Mary and Martha, and so forth. The clear impression is that Jesus ministered to individuals. Even more important, individuals were his legacy. Jesus did not leave 188 Review for Relig4ous behind a spiral notebook on how to run a church. He did not write a curriculum nor even one encyclical. Instead, he left behind people--individuals--whose lives he touched and radically altered. Maybe we have to ask ourselves: How do we measure the effectiveness of our ministry? By the number of reports we fill out? By the neatness of our office? By the thick-ness of our files? Or by the individuals we have ministered to and with--and those we have allowed to minister to us? Jesus liked support groups. In fact, he even started one: the apostles. He also went outside that group for the kind of support that those dozen men could not give him. He seemed to need and appreciate the feminine encouragement of a Mary and a Martha, the unique devotion of a Mary Magdalene. The Gospels show Jesus enioying people. He was not always preaching or teaching or giving workshops. He was relaxing in the company of his friends and colleagues. Even in his darkest hour in Gethsemane, he did not "go it alone." He took part of his support group with him: Peter, James, and John. They disappointed him, yes, as people sometimes disappoint us, too. But Jesus understood their weakness and forgave them, knowing his ultimate support group was the Father and the Spirit. Lastly, Jesus was more than a minister, much more. Van Gogh supposedly said, "If you want to know God, love many things." One reason Jesus was so close to God was because he loved so many things, so many varied aspects of life. Jesus was perhaps a carpenter. What can we deduce from that simple fact? He had a "good eye," a highly developed aesthetic sense. He had a steady hand and knew and appreciated wood. Jesus was a storyteller, too, and a fine one. His "Good Samaritan" and "Prodigal Son" are masterpieces. 0nly a person in touch with the core of life could have spun such magnificent yarns. Jesus was well acquainted with other components of life: bread baking, barbecuing, wine making, and farming, to name but a few. He was keenly aware of the political situation of his times. He was in touch with the prejudices of his day as well as the hopes and dreams of his people. He was something of a naturalist, too, sen-sitive to the changing seasons and to the flora and fauna of his Our ministry, in order to be authentic, must cost us something.- in time, in energy, in love. March-April 1992 189 Svoboda ¯ Going the Distance immediate environment. Little wonder Jesus was so effective as a minister--for he was so much more than one. He was a person fascinated by life, and thus he became a source of fascination--and salvation--for others. Yes, Van Gogh said it: "If you want to know God, love many things." But Jesus lived it, leaving an example for all of us who would follow in his footsteps: "If you want to minister, love many things!" The Long-Distance Runner When I taught high school in Raleigh, North Carolina, in the late 70s, I had a senior girl who was a top-ranking long-dis-tance runner. Julie taught me that there is a world of difference between the sprinter and the long-distance runner. The training and techinques are vastly different. The sprinter's goal is near, often clearly visible. He or she relies on a quick burst of energy to reach that goal within a matter of seconds. Because the dis-tance is so short, the sprinter runs side by side, neck and neck, with other runners who provide an impetus for the sprinter to run hard and fast. Not so with the long-distance runner. This runner's goal is miles away, not even visible. He or she must take steps all along the way to conserve energy for the long haul. Pacing becoInes critical. Although the runners in a marathon start out together, toward the end of the race they often find themselves running alone and forced to rely on deep inner resources and not the near-ness of fellow runners to keep them going to the end. The image of the long-distance runner is an appropriate one for those of us engaged in ministry. For most of us are in ministry for the long haul. We do not want our loving service to deterio-rate into a stoic sense of duty, but to remain a joyful gift. We do not want resentment to contaminate our pool of selfless giving. Instead we want our generosity to be alive and well, our com-passion tender and strong. And we wish to carry our enthusiasm for the Good News all the way to the finish line. Thank God, we do not run alone: God, our God, goes with us--the whole distance. 190 Review for Religious HALBERT WEIDNER Newman's Living the Oratory Charism As the biographical approach to writers and thinkers pro-liferates, so does the controversy over its historical worth. I am taking a biographical approach to John Henry Newman with some trepidation because of the length of his life, his great contributions to thought, and the complexities of the issues. Still I am encouraged in the enterprise by Newman him-self, who insisted on the validity of personal influence in the pur-suit of truth) I intend in this essay first to introduce readers to the Oratory of St. Philip Neri, which Newman brought to England, and then to discuss the Oratory as important for understanding certain values in Newman's life. Newman arrived at these values and maintained them at some personal cost. That cost represents for this author, another Oratorian, the personal drama of grace and conversion of a founding father among English-speaking Oratories. The Nature of an Oratory of St. Philip Neri The first thing that should be said about an Oratory is what it is not. It is not a religious order. There are no vows, no oaths, no promises of any kind public or private. There is no Rule. You will see a Rule mentioned in the time of Newman, but actually what you have are constitutions representing the practice of the Roman house in the latter part of the sixteenth century.2 Philip Neri was a reluctant founder who refused to write a Rule or con-stitutions. Halbert Weidner CO sends these reflections from the Spiritual Life Center; 2717 Pamoa Road; Honolulu, Hawaii 96822. March-April 1992 191 This irregular founder lived from 1515 until 1595, coming to Rome as a young Florentine in 1533. He was not ordained until he was thirty-six years old. He had been a student, a hermit and mystic, and a member of a reforming confraternity which served sick pilgrims, that is, the poor who became ill while visit-ing Rome. He lived in a set of apartments with other priests as part of a complex named San Girolamo della Carit~. It was in a prayer room at this church that the crowd who could no longer fit into Philip's rooms began to gather daily at the siesta hour for prayer. It was this afternoon gathering of laity which was the first Oratory.3 Perhaps the best description of St. Philip's intent is given by Newman himself in The Idea of a University: He [Philip Neri] was raised up to do a work ahnost peculiar in the church--not to be a Jerome Savonarola, though Philip had a true devotion towards him and a tender mem-ory of his Florentine house; not to be a St. Charles, though in his beaming countenance Philip had recognized the aure-ole of a saint; not to be a St. Ignatius, wrestling with the foe, though Philip was termed the Society~ bell of call, so many subjects did he send to it; not to be a St. Francis Xavier, though Philip had longed to shed his blood for Christ in India with him; not to be a St. Caietan, or hunter of souls, for Philip preferred, as he expressed it, tranquilly to cast in his net to gain them; he preferred to yield to the stream, and direct the current, which he could not stop, of science, literature, art, and fashion, and to sweeten and to sanctify what God had made very good and man had spoilt.4 Those who gathered around Philip found a mystic, a reformer, and a humanist, but they did not find him in a cloister or in any religious order. They found him in his rooms with the doors wide open to the public and surrounded by laity. This is why the Oratory is first and foremost secular. It was this laity that formed the original gathering for prayer in a place of prayer (that is, an oratory) and these same laypersons who preached, led prayers, sang in the vernacular, and studied together each afternoon under Philip's guidance. The Congregation of the Oratory is a secondary group of secular priests and laity which gathered around Philip as the Oratory became less of a movement and more of an institu-tion. But before this, Philip carried on the ministry of prayer and reflection from 1551 until 1575, more or less activating the laity as the leaders. It was in 1575 that a secondary group of priests and brothers had gathered sufficiently to be formally organized 192 Review for Religious with papal approval. But this Congregation was without any con-stitutions and was still primarily organized for the initial group of laity,s Constitutions for the Congregation were not finished until 1612, seventeen years after Philip's death. Later the institution of the congregation became more clericalized as not only the pri-mary group of laity disappeared, but even the brothers were no longer accepted, leaving a congregation of secular priests who lived together in community. While the Oratory is unique within Roman Catholicism, its values represent a mind-set present among many reformers of the early sixteenth century. This reforming spirit is symbolized by the values St. Jerome came to represent within a church loaded down with religious orders heavy on structure and low in spirit. Erasmus had noted that, in the days of St. Jerome, "the profession of a monk consisted in no more than the practice of the original, free, purely Christian life.''6 The summary of Erasmus's thinking about the ideal religious given us in Eugene Rice's St. Jerome in the Renaissance could also be a description of the spirit animating the early Oratory of St. Philip: Monks then were men who wished only to live with willing friends in liberty of spirit close to the teachings of the Gospel. Their lives were sweetly leisured. No ceremonies or man-made regulations fettered them. No single dress was prescribed. No deference was paid to total abstinence. They studied, they fasted, and sang psalms as the spirit moved them. They took no vows.7 This being said, we can note some positive elements in the Congregation of the Oratory: A. It is a center of prayer by nature. The classical form that this prayer takes dates back to the more intimate group that gath-ered in the evening around Philip. This amounts to about a half hour of silent prayer or meditation concluded with vocal prayers. The two-hour prayer sessions led by and for the laity at the time of St. Philip have been the casualty of time. Likewise the primary group of laity called the Oratory has also passed away except for a remnant often called "the Little Oratory." This name is quite ironic since what has become "little" was in fact the biggest and the first of the founder's works, not to say the very reason behind it all. Except for a directive to somehow maintain the secular or "Little Oratory," the ministry of the Congregation is otherwise unspecified and unspecialized. Each house tends to the work at 21/larch-April992 193 The life of an Oratory is said to be built on a deep regard for "well-known faces.' hand, and assignments tend to reflect the talents of the members. Philip Neri was against centralization and so put on its own every house that wished to follow on his general pattern. He believed that duplication was impossible and that each situation called for its own approach. B. Face-to-face association is essential to the Oratory. In a phrase going back to the community's origins, the life of an Oratory is said to be built on a deep regard for "well-known faces.''8 There were no fears to be engendered in an Oratory over friendships, and such a pol-icy militated against large sizes and the anomaly of "communities" of religious who have to resort to books with mem-bers' pictures for help in identification. C. Relative permanence is an ideal even though there are no vows or any-thing else holding a person to an Oratory. Perseverance is a fundamental aspect of the house spirituality and is often prayed for aloud at community prayer. Note that members cannot be transferred from one house to another and that, if they leave a house to go voluntarily to another that has freely accepted them, they must usually transfer membership as well. This means that problems with and among members must be worked out within the house since, obviously, transference cannot be the solution. Dismissal from a house is a rare and difficult pro-cedure. D. Small numbers, then, are the consequence of Oratorian living. The Constitutions of the Congregation go so far as to say that the power of an Oratory resides in such a small membership. Large numbers would weaken a house, which is supposed to be built on interpersonal relationships. When Newman wrote The Present Position of Catholics in England, he was addressing the men of the secular or Little Oratory. Towards the end, he applies this Oratorian principle of strength despite small numbers when he tells them: Your strength lies in your God and your conscience; there-fore it lies not in your number. It lies not in your number any more than in intrigue, or combination, or worldly wisdom. God saves whether by many or by few; you are to aim at 194 Review for Religious showing forth His light, at diffusing "the sweet odor of His knowledge in every place": numbers would not secure this. On the contrary, the more you grew, the more you might be thrown back into yourselves, by the increased animosity and jealousy of your enemies. You are enabled in some mea-sure to mix with them while you are few; you might be thrown back upon yourselves, when you became many? The Oratory, then, exists to embody the ideal of koinonia, liv-ing together as a fruit of the Holy Spirit and a sign of God's rule. The Oratory is very conscious that only the Spirit can keep it together faithful to the charism and that a life of prayer and open-ness is the only way to persevere with any kind of fruitfulness. Community in this context is not a utility, but an end, the pres-ence of each person's final destiny in the communion of saints somehow present now. E. The Oratory is collegial to a unique degree. All major pol-icy decisions are made by the entire congregation of members who have finished six years. Personnel and financial decisions on a smaller scale are decided by a deputed congregation elected by the membership. The provost is the title of the "superior" who holds the office as first among equals. He is chiefly an adminis-trator and his authority rests in moral persuasion. His only clear power is that of proposal since neither the general congregation nor the smaller deputed congregation can discuss or vote on any-thing without this proposal. Since the provost serves only three years, any provost resisting the majority can only hold out for a certain time. E The Congregation of the Oratory is also juridically pon-tifical. Today each house is now part of a very loose confederation, but each is still a complete pontifical congregation. Each superior is a major superior. In Newman's time there was no confederation at all, and so each house was directly involved with the Roman Curia. This gives each small house a double relationship. They are rooted in their diocese and have a special relationship to the local church and the bishop on one hand, and yet on the other look to the Holy See for the preservation of the charism. We shall see how each of the elements of the Oratory Congregation played a role in the life of Newman. Newman and the Oratory I have chosen five aspects of Newman's life where I believe the March-April 1992 195 Oratorian charism was arrived at and purchased at some cost to him. These are: (1) the elasticity of the Oratory and Newman which was tested in his assumption of the rectorship of the Irish Catholic University, (2) the choice he had between a university apostolate and the Oratory during the Irish Catholic University founding, (3) the promotion of the laity in fields rightly theirs that had been co-opted by clericalism, (4) the resistance to foreign cultural aspects of Roman Catholicism in favor of an indigenous English religious life, (5) fidelity to community life in one place and one people. 1. The Elasticity of the Charism I have said that each Oratory has a great deal of elasticity to it as the congregation has no specific work to which its members are bound. This elasticity is from time to time tested within an individual Oratory, and Newman's assumption of the rectorship of a yet-to-be-founded university in Dublin was a very grave exper-iment in just how flexible an Oratory can be. But the flexibility had a true Oratorian origin. First, it was the result of consultation with both Birmingham and the not-yet-independent London house. Father Faber's letter indicates that the London community thought it good for the congregation that Newman assume the rectorship rather than anything less demand-ing, but less powerful.~° Secondly, it took a papal brief confirm-ing the arrangement before the attempt was made to do the impossible, that is, allow Newman to bilocate as provost in Birmingham and rector in Dublin.11 Thirdly, it was specifically for the purpose of starting a Dublin Oratory, and Newman's build-ing plans indicate he gave priority to the Oratory in that the uni-versity church built there was for the sake of a potential foundation.12 But Newman knew how precarious it was for an Oratorian to be away from his house. In a letter to Ambrose St. John he says, "I trust we shall have an Oratory in Dublin--which is the only thing I can bribe St. Philip with for coming here.''13 That it was a disaster emotionally for Newman and a serious drain on the Birmingham Oratory does not make it any less Oratorian for all that. Because of its lack of structure, it is typical of an Oratory to try to do too much rather than too little. It is easy enough to document other Oratories trying to stretch too thin. Thus we have the Oratory of Goa, India, sending Joseph Vaz to Sri Lanka at a time of persecution and in the clothing of a Hindu 196 Review for Religious holy man. There he labors with other Oratorians scattered around the countryside more like clerks regular than sons of St. Philip.14 My own Oratory in South Carolina had members scattered throughout the state during half of its history and only recently and with great difficulty has been able to return all of the mem-bers to a community life.Is During the time of St. Philip, the Oratory took on dependent missions for a while until St. Philip and the community abruptly called a halt to this development.Is So it is Oratorian to push the Oratory to the extreme and perhaps beyond. It is also Oratorian to eventually return to saner limits and the grace of a life closer to the original charism. 2. The Preference for Obscurity If Newman's acceptance of the rectorship pushed the Oratorian charism beyond limits, his fidelity to an Oratorian voca-tion is demonstrated by his resistance to a classic temptation against the life to which he believed God called him. The asceti-cism of the Oratory is a rigorous egalitarianism. Each member has one vote and all are equal and most aspects of the life are governed by the majority when not regulated by the constitu-tions. It was not uncommon among the best and brightest of St. Philip's followers to leave the Oratory, usually under papal "obe-dience," for higher positions in the church. That St. Philip him-self managed to escape or refuse such offers does not seem to be a grace extended to many of his followers. One of St. Philip's aphorisms was "love to be unknown,''17 but it is a hard saying. And it was a grace extended to Newman. Simply put, when presented with a full-time rectorship of the Irish university, Newman chose the small, obscure Oratory of Birmingham, England.I8 He was consistently resistant to any compromise on this point even though the choice seemed impenetrably obscure to both friends and foes. This disregard for the existence, rights, and potential of the Birmingham Oratory was one of Newman's great crosses. Newman complained, "Me they wish to use--me they wish to detach in every way from my own Fathers.''19 Separating an Oratorian from his community has not always been difficult, and there is evidence to indicate that some of these peo-ple thought they were doing Newman a favor by trying to detach him from the Oratory. Another fear of Newman's was the bad effect an absent provost would have on attracting new members to the Birmingham Oratory. This made the arrangement with the March-April 1992 197 university and Archbishop Cullen finally untenable.2° From inside the Oratory, the sacrifice of an outside position seems to be the heart of a vocation that embraces the asceticism of simply being one among many. 3. Maintaining the Preference for Laity The University episode also exemplifies another Oratorian principle, the importance of laicity to church and Oratory. As I have said, in the nineteenth century much of the lay character of the Oratory was atrophied. Only the little Oratory existed in some places and in some forms. Within some of the Congregations there were lay members or "brothers," for want of a better word, but as in most societies defined as congregations of priests, these brothers had no vote and seniority depended on holy orders first and seminary status second; only third came the brothers, who followed the youngest seminarians. But at a time when brothers in clerical communities of priests were treated as second-class members and even much like servants, Newman wrote to the act-ing superior of Birmingham the following directive: I am somewhat pained, my dear Edward, to hear you speak of us as 'Gentlemen--' We are not Gentlemen in con-tradistinction to the Brothers--they are Gentlemen too, by which 1 mean, not only a Catholic, but a polished refined Catholic. The Brothers are our equals . The Father is above the Brothers sacerdotally--but in the Oratory they are equal2~ This is indeed the spirit of St. Philip, whose esteem for the lay members of the congregation as well as of the religious orders was well known. But making this point about equality is still a struggle today within the congregations. In my opinion, if you ask many Oratorians what the Oratory is, they will simply say that it is a community of priests, without communicating at all the possibility of full lay membership and, since the Second Vatican Council, full voting rights. Newman's second contribution as an Oratorian to laicity was his emphasis on the secular Oratory or the Oratory as a lay move-ment. The revival of the secular or Little Oratory was "more important than anything else," at least in his own eyes. He real-ized that this was not a burning isst.e among the other Oratories, but he himself believed that, if the secular Oratory was not estab-lished, then the Congregation of the Oratory should be consid- 198 Review for Religious ered a faih~re.22 It was, as I said, for the secular Oratory that Newman wrote the lectures now called The Present Position of Catholics, and it is this volume I would call Newman's literary con-tribution to laicity. Perhaps Newman would agree with me, as he believed it in his old age to be his "best written book.''23 It is at any rate, in the opinion of Ian Ker, a popular, even Dickens-like piece of wit and rhetoric introducing the grander themes later developed in his explorations of the nature of a university.24 And, finally, it must be noted that for Newman laity meant men and women. Women had not been his-torically part of the secular Oratory, and so he petitioned Rome for a secular Oratory for women. Even though it did not develop, the rescript obtained estab-lished a new precedent.2s It was this regard for laity as essential to the religious enterprise of the Oratory that informs Newman's Idea of a University, where laicity is central to the educational enterprise. In my reckoning, this is his third contribution to laicity, but probably the best-known outside the Oratory. Newman believed that it was his struggle to appoint a lay vice-rector, to define the university as the province of the laity, and to develop self-moti-vated students with a minimum of authority which led to the ruin of the project.26 It was such "dreadful jealousy of the laity," Newman also believed, which led to the rejection of another planned Oratory at another university, this time no less than Oxford itself.27 Secularity and laicity, principles at the heart of the Oratory of St. Philip Neri, made it impossible for Newman to spread the congregation when both such principles were feared and rejected by church officials who felt the church to be under siege. That the ability to act and to be respectful of church author-ity were compatible seems to be exemplified in the life of the very independent personality Philip Neri. But, when Newman wished to prove the principle by anecdote, he very cleverly chose the most authoritarian of religious societies, the Jesuits, to make his point: "Nothing great or living can be done except when men are self governed and independent: this is quite consistent with a full maintenance of ecclesiastical supremacy. St. Francis Xavier wrote Regard for the laity as essential to the religious enterprise of the Oratory informs Newman's Idea of a University. March-April 1992 199 to St. Ignatius on his knees; but who will say that St. Francis was not a real center of action?''-'s 4. Preference for the Local Culture Around an Oratory Besides preserving laicity, Newman desired also to preserve English culture within the Roman Catholic Church. St. Philip Neri's emphasis on autonomous houses or congregations was rooted in his belief that each locale had its own culture and that the needs of the place had to be met through this culture. There could be nothing more contrary to the spirit of the Oratory than for any of the congregations to see themselves as the importers of foreign customs. The Italian devotionalism of such an Oratorian figure as the famous Father Frederick Faber of London was really a misguided attempt to re-create not only another culture but also another time. Ironically, the culture and time chosen by Faber was the Baroque era--when the Oratory was spreading through Europe, but a century later than Philip's own time and work. The extravagances of Faber and some other members of the London Oratory would not have been as effective as they were without the backing of the Dublin Review (seen to be the voice of London's Archbishop Manning)29 and W.G. Ward. When Newman had a chance to defend Roman Catholicism against some charges of his old Anglican friend E.B. Pusey, there was also the possibility of distancing that same Catholicism from the foreign enthusiasm of converts like Manning, Ward, and Faber. Newman could declare: "I prefer English habits of belief and devotion to foreign, from the same causes, and by the same right, which jus-tifies foreigners in preferring their own. In following those of my people, I show less singularity, and create less disturbance than if I made a flourish with what is novel and exotic.''3° "What is novel and exotic" to many English Catholics was for the London Oratory the true renewal of Catholicism and of the Congregation of the Oratory at the same time. Father Bernard Dalgairns left the Birmingham Oratory for the London house with a condemnation of Newman and his fellow members who had adopted a position paper which has been called an "Apologia pro vita sua--Oratoriana." 3~ Newman had insisted earlier that an Oratory is "the representative of no distant or foreign interest, but lives a~nong and is contented with its own people.''~-~ The con-troversy with Dalgairns assisted the Birmingham house in defin-ing itself against the London clai~n to be normative)3 200 Review for Religious Birmingham did not issue a counterclaim as the true measure of Oratorian life, but it did insist that its own very English adap-tation to education and culture in its own time and place was cer-tainly an authentic version of Oratorian life. The Idea of a University, with its marvelous panegyric of St. Philip Neri, is the public version of these private Oratory position papers which were worked on at the same time. In short, the Birmingham com-munity saw the idea of the Oratory and the idea of the university as complementary and consistent with each other. That authority within another Oratory, authority in the English Catholic hier-archy, and authority in Rome saw this as dangerous eventually prevented Newman from a university ministry and the founding of two Oratories, the one in Dublin, the other in Oxford. If he had not been thwarted--we can ask not only what effect this would have had on the Catholic Church's presence in higher education, but also what kind of model the Oratory would have become for that presence. ~. Fidelity to One Place and Community If Newman's devotion to the Oratory as a humanistic Christian community making the best of its own time and place cost him considerable loss of influence, it also explains why Newman was always hoisted between the limitations of the local hierarchy and Roman authority. As small as an Oratory usually is, it is nevertheless a community of pontifical right. But, because the members never move out of this small community, it is inti-mately involved in the local church and becomes specially related to the bishop. This arrangement was meant to allow the Oratory to serve both worlds best, but it also means that the Oratory is vulnerable to the worst of both. And it was the worst that Newman often had to suffer. Suffering at the hands of both local officials and Curial bureaucrats was the fate of the Oratory's founder, St. Philip Neri, but it took Newman some time to realize that such was his own unavoidable fate.34 In 1856 he could be sanguine about Roman love of an English house of St. Philip ("Be sure," he wrote, "that, if we are really doing work, Rome will never be hard on us, even if we are informal, imprudent, or arbitrary").35 By the 1860s he had suffered enough to be afraid of Rome calling him to the Curia for trial of his opinions and judgments. He was so afraid that he considered such a prospect as the threat of death.36 The March-April 1992 201 bishop of Birmingham was of no help in the face of Roman threats. Newinan wrote privately in 1867 that Ullathorne "wishes to be kind to me, but to stand well with people at Rome super-sedes in his mind every other wish. So he is a coward.''37 We can be considerably grateful that the insight into the abuses of church power led him to write in 1877 the great preface to the ¼"a Media in which he developed a theology of abuses in the church. He asks us to contemplate the implications of Matthew 13 and to choose the complexities and shortcomings of a world church rather than the narrow confines and perfection of a sect. That is, for the sake of Catholicity, we must realize that sanctity will not always be an equally prominent mark of the church.3s Conclusion The burden of this short paper has been to indicate some areas where Newman cannot be completely understood without a direct reference to the Oratory of St. Philip Neri. I would say several areas have been directly touched on. First, there is the mystery Why Birmingham? Why would such a talented person remain faithful to this city when he had been born in London and had adopted Oxford and its university? If living in Birmingham is of any consequence in understanding the mystery of Newman, then only the Oratory suffices for an explanation. Newman consciously rejected the London option because his absence from Birmingham would have been the death of a community wishing to live around him.39 And it is within the mystery of a providence that settled the Oratory in Birmingham that we have the mystery of Newman's fidelity to St. Philip, a fidelity which certainly shaped the field of Newman's activities which we have now inherited. Secondly, knowing the Oratory helps us understand how Newman was able to function as pastor and theologian. He had no official standing in a seminary or a university, and his membership in the Oratory cut him off from preferments in the diocese. Yet, despite the fragility of the Oratory and Newman's vulnerability to his enemies with real power bases, he was able to accomplish much. As a pastor he was perpetually available to a local people, and as a teacher he could, in the Congregation, exercise his tal-ents and find reinforcement of his values. Thirdly, the prophetic stands which he brought to the Roman 202 Review for Religious Catholic Church found a congenial place within the tradition of Philip Neri and the Oratory. Laicity, education, and culture were not feared in the Oratory, but promoted. Certainly the Oratory could accommodate the interests of such a person as Newman, and this I think says a lot for the Oratory. Finally, the Oratory provided an emotional complementarity for Newman. Newman had written that he had "never liked a large Oratory. Twelve working priests has been the limit of my ambition. One cannot love many at one time; one cannot really have many friends.''4° The rather intimate expression of this is found in the well-known conclusion to the Apologia, but I would beg an indulgence to cite a lesser-known example found in Meriol Trevor's Life. Late in life some parishioners brought Newman a portrait of himself as a gift to the Birmingham Oratory. Newman replied to them in these words: You ask for my blessing and I bless you with all my heart, as I desire to be blessed myself. Each one of us has his own individuality, his separate history, his antecedents and his future, his duties, his responsibilities, his solemn trial, and his eternity. May God's grace, His love, His peace rest on all of you, united as you are in the Oratory of St. Philip, on old and young, on confessors and penitents, on teachers and taught, on living and dead. Apart from that grace, that love, that peace, nothing is stable, all things have an end; but the earth will last its time, and while the earth lasts, Holy Church will last, and while the Church lasts, may the Oratory of Birmingham last also, amid the fortunes of many generations one and the same, faithful to St Philip, strong in the protection of our Lady and all Saints, not losing as time goes on its sympathy with its first fathers, whatever may be the burden and interests of its own day, as we in turn now stretch forth our hands with love and awe towards those, our unborn successors, whom on earth we shall never kFIow.41 From the Oratory of Birmingham, England, Newman gives a blessing because he believed his life as an Oratorian was itself a blessing. For this reason the Oratory might merit a considera-tion when we think of Newman and what it cost him to be a Catholic and what it was like for him to rejoice as an old man after a long time not only in the Catholic Church but in the Oratory of St. Philip Neri. March-April 1992 203 Notes ~ NewInan's classical exposition of this is found in University Sermons, vol. 5, pp. 75-98, and elucidated very well by Stephen Dessain in The Spirituality offfobn Henry Newman (Minneapolis, 1977), pp. 31-55. But see this theme repeated in an Oratorian context in Newman's Oratory Paper No. 6 in Placid Murray, Newman the Oratorian (Leominster, England, 1968), pp. 215-216. -' For the documentation of the constitutional development of the Congregation, see Antonius Cistellini CO, Collectanea Vetustorum ac Fundamentalium Documentorum Congregationis Oratorii Sancti Philippi Nerii (Brescia, 1982). ~ The more detailed history of this development can be found in Louis Ponnelle and Louis Border, St. Philip Neri and the Roman Society of His Times (London, 1932), pp. 166-173. 4 Idea, Discourse 9, no. 9. ~ Ponnelle and Bordet, pp. 287-381. 6 Erasmus, Ep. 164, in Opus epistolarum Des. Erasmii Roterodami, ed. P. S. Allen, H.M. Allen, and H.W. Garrod (Oxford, 1906-08), quoted in Eugene Rice Jr., Saint Jerome in the Renaissance (Baltimore, 1985), p. 133. 7 Rice, p. 133. 8 The 1969 Constitutions of the Congregation read in no. 15: "The Congregation follows the primitive Christian community that its char-acteristic power consists not in the multitude of its members, but rather in mutual knowledge--so that there may be a regard for the well-known faces--and in the true bond of love, by which those of the same family may be bound together through the practice of daily customs." See Newman the Oratorian, p. 329, for Newman's familiarity with the con-cept of well-known faces or countenances. ~ Prepos., p. 388. ~o Autobiographical Vt~ritings (AI/V), p. 281. 11AW, p. 286. ~2 Ian Ker, John Henry Newman (Oxford, 1988), p. 433. 13 Letters and Diaries (LD), vol. 14, p. 377. ~4 See S.G. Perera SJ, Life of the Venerable Father Joseph Uaz, Apostle of Ceylon (Galle, 1953). Newman indicates a long-standing knowledge of this special case in a letter written in 1867. ~s There is no history written of this first of the Oratories in the United States, and the archives of the house are very sketchy. There is no written rationale of the house for the scattering of the members, but some effort was made to rotate them back to Rock Hill if they were some distance away. There is an article describing the Rock Hill house written by Edward YVahl, one of the earlier members, in Oratorium, Ann. III, S.I-N. 1, Ian-Iun. 1972, pp. 23-32. ~' Ponnelle and Bordet, pp. 471-474. 204 Review for Religious 17 E A. Agnelli, The Excellencies of the Congregation of the Oratory of St. Philip Neri (Venice, 1825), translated and abridged by F.A. Antrobus, London 1881, chapter 1, section V. is LD, vol. 18, pp. 478,483. 19 LD, vol. 17, p. 447. '-OLD, vol. 18, pp. 114-115. z1 LD, vol. 16, p. 267. 22 LD, vol. 14, p. 274. ,~3 LD, vol. 26, p. 115. 24 Ker, pp. 365-372. 25 LD, vol. 17, p. 137. See Newman the Oratorian, p. 311, for his appre-ciation of the Oratory and women. 26 A~17~ p. 327. 27 LD, vol. 21, p. 327. 28LD, vol. 21, p. 331. ~'9 Ker, p. 579. 3o DiffT, ii, pp. 20-21. 31 Placid Murphy calls these papers another apologia (Newman the Oratoria~l, p. 299). -~'~ Newman the Oratorian, p. 196. 33 Newman the Oratorian, p. 358. 34 The 1848 paper in Newman the Oratorian lists the persecutions Philip suffered (see p. 163). In 1862 he can compare his troubles to the founder's (see AW, pp. 256-257). 35 LD, vol. 17, p. 151. 36 LD, vol. 20, pp. 445-448. ~7 LD, vol. 23, p. 296. 38 See R. Bergeron, LesAbus de L'~glise d'apr& Newman (Paris, 1971), and the annotated edition of Newman's ~a Media (Oxford, 1990), ed. H.D. Weidner. 39 LD, vol. 13, pp. 51-52. 40 Newman the Oratorian. p. 387. 4~ Meriol Trevor, Newman, Light in I:Vinter (New York, 1962), p. 582. March-April 1992 205 DENNIS J. BILLY The Resurrection Kernel theology and spirituality Is there a fundamental principle of the resurrection? The answer to this question depends on the way in which one understands the relationship of history to the reality of the risen Christ. This relationship, in turn, depends on the stance one takes towards the possibility of a transhistorical event and the type of impact it would have on the continuities and discontinuities of historical change. However understood, the impact itself would have vast ramifications for the whole of theology. Resurrection: Distinguishing Idea from Reality At the outset, it may be helpful to distinguish between resurrection (1) as a particular item in the history of ideas and (2) as the reality experienced among the earliest fol-lowers of Christ. The former may be separated from the viewpoint of faith, compared with other ideas about the nature of the afterlife, and evaluated on a rational basis for its various strengths and weaknesses as a viable expla-nation of the nature of life after death. As a transhistori-cal event with historical consequences, the latter is intricately bound to the faith of the primitive Christian community and cannot be studied in such a detached, ana- Dennis J. Billy CSSR continues his reflections on various cen-tral tenets of our faith and their relationship to the vowed life of religious. His address is Accademia Alfonsiana; Via Merulana, 31; C.P. 2458; 00100 Rome, Italy. 206 Review for Religious lyrical manner. Any effort to formulate a fundamental principle of the resurrection must be careful to take both sides of this dis-tinction into account. The Idea of Resurrection. A well-grounded discussion of an idea should begin with an attempt to identify its most distinctive char-acteristics. With respect to its general mean-ing, one could accurately describe the term "resurrection" as a belief common among Christians that, at some point after death, an individual is transformed by the power of the Divinity on every level of his or her anthro-pological makeup--the corporeal, the psy-chological, the spiritual, and the social--and thus raised to a higher level of human exis-tence in a way that always remains in funda-mental continuity with his or her historical, earthly life. The most distinctive marks in this short yet exact account of the idea of resurrection include: (1) personal life after death, (2) in a The idea of resurrection alone safeguards the inviolate dignity of each human being on every level of existence. transformed state, (3) embracing all the anthropological factors of human existence, and (4) in a way continuous with an individual's concrete, earthly life. Each of these elements is essential to the idea of resurrection as it is used in this essay and as it exists in the major Christian traditions. These characteristics also set the idea of resurrection apart from the related idea of bodily resuscitation (for example, the raising of Lazarus, Jn 11:44), as well as from the other major philosophical and religious explanations of the nature of life in the hereafter (for example, the immortality of the soul, reincar-nation, nirvana). When these are compared, the idea of resur-rection distinguishes itselfi (1) from bodily resuscitation, in its emphasis on a transformed existence in life after death; (2) from the immortality of the soul, in its inclusion of all of humanity's anthropological factors in the nature of that existence; (3) from reincarnation, in its rupture of the cycle of time and its insistence on the fundamental continuity of life in the hereafter with a per-son's earthly existence; and (4) from nirvana, in its avowal that final beatitude does not involve the extinction of individual con-sciousness. The greatest strength of the idea of resurrection is March-April 1992 207 that, of all of the ideas about the nature of life after death, it alone safeguards the inviolate dignity of each human being on every level of his or her existence. That is to say that it alone keeps human nature eternally intact while, at the same time, saving the individual from ultimate personal extinction. Its greatest weak-ness is that, in representing the fulfillment of one of the deepest and most profound hopes of the human heart, it seems almost too good to be true, an attractive but highly unlikely possibility. For this reason, of all the ideas of life in the hereafter, resurrec-tion is the one most difficult to accept on the simple basis of faith. The Reality of the Resurrection. Rooted in the hopes of Jewish apoc-alypticism during the centuries just prior to the appearance of Christ, and promulgated during Jesus' own lifetime by the reli-gious elite known as the Pharisees, the idea of resurrection devel-oped to its present form as a result of theological reflection on the nature of the Christ event, most especially in the primitive Christian community's interpretation of the meaning of the apos-tolic experience of the risen Lord. This reflection is intimately tied to the trust that community placed in the validity of the apos-tolic witness and to the experience of faith upon which it rested. It is also the context within which one may speak of the resur-rection not as an idea, but as a reality and a hope. \Vhat precisely happened on the first Easter morning remains shrouded by the subjective awareness of the earliest followers of Jesus. That awareness probably ran the gamut of several emo-tional states--from depression and fear, to suspicion and isola-tion, to incipient faith and the lingering yearning for the retrieval of lost expectations--and most likely varied in each of the persons involved. That is not to say that the event had no basis outside the experience of Jesus' followers, but only that there is no way to determine what it is with any accuracy. It is for this reason that, down through the centuries, the Easter event remains primarily an experience of faith in the lives of Jesus' followers. A distinction must still be made, however, between the faith of those who witnessed the Easter event personally and those whose faith relies on the testimony of the apostles. The procla-mation of the church rests upon the eyewitness accounts of the apostles, that is, on those who made the startling claim to have experienced for themselves the reality of the risen Lord. Their experience of faith remains qualitatively different from that of 208 Review for Religious the believer in the pew, for they claim to have experienced a real-ity outside of themselves, rooted in the objective order, distinct from their own subjectivity, and identified with the person of their Master, Jesus of Nazareth. Without the unprecedented bold-ness and resiliency of these claims, the Christian project would have nothing distinctive in its message and probably would never have gotten off the ground. These apostolic claims emerge from one of two possibilities: the experience of the risen Christ was with or without a basis in the person of Jesus in the external order. That is to say that the experience of the apostles corresponds to a reality outside of themselves or remains entirely subjective in all respects. If the former is true, then the further question must be asked regarding the nature of this basis in the external order. If the latter be true, then the only conclusion to be drawn is that the apostles suffered from self-delusion, that their testimony is false, as is the religion to which it gave rise. The fact that neither of these possibilities can be proven highlights the underlying quality of faith inherent in the conclusions of both the believer and non-believer alike. Still more can be said about the position of the believer. If the apostolic experience of the risen Christ does have an external basis in the person of Jesus, then this affirmation, when combined with the idea of resurrection developed earlier in this essay, nec-essarily points to an event of singular historical significance. Indeed, this event could be measured by the instruments of his-torical observation only by its effects (for example, a missing body) and, for this reason, must be placed in a category unique to itself and understood as a transhistorical event with historical conse-quences. This is so precisely because the risen Christ, existing in a transformed state but in a way continuous with his earthly life, does not lead "a historical existence" in the way in which the phrase is commonly used. That is to say that space and time no longer set the limits for his physical existence. In his resurrected state, Christ is the Alpha and the Omega, a singular dimension unique unto himself, who recapitulates, both now and forever, all The Easter event remains primarily an experience of faith in the lives of lesus" followers. March-April 1992 209 of creation within himself, into the love of the Father and the joy of their Spirit. The Resurrection Kernel From all that has been said, a sound formulation of the fun-damental principle of the resurrection (the resurrection kernel) would consist in the affirmation of faith that the idea of resur-rection has become a reality in the risen Christ. This reality is rooted in the transhistorical nature of the Christ event, whose historical consequences linger even to this day in the ongoing proclamation of the church. Based on the testimony of its apos-tolic forebears, the church has, in its ministry down through the centuries, kept alive for humanity the fervent hope that the deep-est yearnings of the human heart will one day be fully realized. That is to say that the transformation wrought by God in Christ promises to extend itself to all who are incorporated into his body, the church. In this respect, a sharing in the life of the risen Lord may be looked upon as the ultimate destiny of all of humankind and will be impeded only by a stubborn individual or corporate persistence in the life of sin. Given the above formulation, a number of important obser-vations arise: (1) To affirm that an idea has become a reality is to utilize the well-known philosophical distinction between the internal (that is, subjective) and external (that is, objective) orders. The limitations of this distinction are well known, and care must be taken not to stretch the analogy beyond its avowed usefulness. Indeed, special care must be taken not to project the concerns of the so-called critical problem back to a time before its signifi-cance was entirely known. (2) God the Father is the primary agent in bringing about this realization in Christ. Since idea and reality are intimately connected in the Divinity's vision of itself, the resurrection of Christ may be viewed as a providential movement on the part of the Father to bring the plan of redemption in accord with the working of the Divine Mind, that is, the Logos. In this respect, Christ's resurrection is that event which, touching upon history but transcending time, initiates the ultimate return of all created things back to God. (3) This view of Christ's resurrection also sheds light upon 210 Review for Religious the development in the early church of the doctrine of the incar-nation. If it is true that, in Christ's resurrection, flesh has been divinized and lifted up into the reality of the Word, it follows that, at some point prior to this momentous occasion, the Word itself had descended into the reality of human flesh and had become a human person. Putting aside for the moment the vari-ous intricacies involved in discussing the Christological contro-versies in the early centuries of the church, it seems quite appropriate to say that the doctrines of Christ's incarnation and resurrection form two aspects of a single salvific event which, if one were to borrow the Neoplatonic exitus/reditus structure adopted by Aquinas, represents the recreatio,z of all things going out of (exitus) and going back (reditus) to God. It is in this sense that all things are recapitulated in Christ, the New Adam. (4) As described above, the resurrection is not merely the state of Christ's postmortem existence, but an intricate part of the whole process of redemption. If Christ's exitu} from the Father reaches its furthest extension in his passion and death on the cross (described in the Creed as his descent into hell), his reditus is ush-ered in by the events of Easter morning, and his Spirit is the prin-ciple by which all things continue to be gathered into his body and thus into the presence of the Father. (5) As a transhistorical event with historical consequences, the resurrection of Christ exists outside of but in relation to the realm of historical inquiry. In this regard, it lies beyond the realm of scientific investigation and can be affirmed only through faith in the testimony of those claiming to have actually experienced Jesus after his death. That is not to say that the apostles did not experience outside of themselves in the exter-nal order, but only that the basis for their experience cannot be verified. (6) Indeed, probably the only historical consequence of mea-surable scientific value would have been the disappearance of Jesus' body at the actual moment of his resurrection. Since the precise whereabouts of the body was a point of contention even in the initial aftermath of the Easter proclamation (Mt 28:13), one must conclude that, although its disappearance could have been verified, if not scientifically, then at least through pagan eyewitness accounts, it obviously was not. (7) On all other points, the detached observer would not be able to separate the subjective experience of the apostles from March-April 1992 211 the reality of the risen Christ. There would, in other words, have been no way of determining whether or not they were actually experiencing anything beyond their own intensified inner aware-ness. The singularity of this experience would be expected if a transhistorical event were to occur and be experienced in its his-torical consequences. (8) To the extent that it is not based on direct experience but on the testimony of others, the faith of the church is qualitatively different from the faith of the apostles. Not only does it point to the conviction of those who claimed to have experienced the risen Lord, but, in one respect, it is even a purer experience of faith: "Happy are those who have not seen and yet believe" (Jn 20:29). (9) Belief in the risen Christ keeps alive in people the hope that, after death, their lives will not end, but merely change. Because of Christ's resurrection, they look forward to a trans-formed existence in the hereafter, one in continuity with their own lives on earth. Sustained by a believer's prayerful response to the contetnporary challenges of Christian discipleship, this hope forms the basis upon which life in the resurrection is anticipated even in the present. (10) Through their participation in the ministry and life of the church, people receive a foretaste of this transformed exis-tence, especially when they partake of the sacraments around the table of the Lord. It was at the Eucharist where Jesus' disciples recognized him in the breaking of the bread (Lk 24:30). It is there where Christians, even to this day, gather to do the same. This is especially true for those who dedicate their lives to Christ through the following of the evangelical counsels. Religious and the Resurrection In their vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, religious strive to center their lives upon the reality of the risen Christ. They seek to do so by virtue of their firtn conviction that they are called to share in the life of the resurrection by making the idea of the vows a lived reality in their day-to-day existence. Christ, who exhibited both before and after his resurrection a life dedicated to the Father through the eschatological signs of the evangelical counsels, asks religious to do the same. The strength to do so comes from Christ and is mediated by his Spirit through his church and its ministry of the sacraments. While such dedi- 212 Review for Religious cation is never fully realized in the present, religious are called to imitate Christ throughout their entire lives. It is for this reason that, at the end of their earthly lives, they hope to share in the full-ness of his transformed existence. In their vowed life in common, religious pledge to give them-selves over entirely to the life of the risen Lord. In their vow of poverty, they seek both physical and spiritual detachment from material goods, doing so not out of a suspicion about the fundamental good-ness of creation, but from the convic-tion that it too will undergo a transformation in the fullness of Christ's kingdom. In their vow of chastity, they promise to forgo the goods of marriage, children, and sexual pleasure, thereby accepting Christ's Gospel declaration that there will be neither husband nor wife in the life to come (Lk 20:35) and that, even in the realm of relationships, all who abide in him will live a trans-formed existence. In their vow of obe-dience, they promise to accept the will of their superiors as a manifestation of God's plan for their lives, thus hoping to estab-lish within themselves a continual movement of accord between their own wills and that of the their risen Lord. Finally, in their communal existence, they hold each other accountable for the way of life they have chosen and seek to reflect in their mutual relations that dignity and care appropriate to those who are called to be members of Christ's body. By means of their individual and communal dedication to the evangelical counsels, it is clear that religious seek, even in this present life, a deeper share in the life of the resurrection. Through their vowed life in community, religious thus provide a faithful witness for themselves, the rest of the church, and the entire world that the idea of resurrection has not only been made a reality in Christ but that it is striving, at this very moment, to be realized in the lives of those who believe. In this respect, their witness affirms the movement of Christ's Spirit in the life of the church and provides a foretaste of the life to come. That is not to say that religious embody this charismatic dimension of the church better or more faithfully than any of the other vocations within the Belief in the risen Christ keeps alive in people the hope that, after death, their lives will not end, but merely change. March-April 1992 213 church (for example: single, married, priestly states), but only that their way of life is especially suited to it. Of its very nature, the religious life forIns a part of the charismatic dimension of the church. Indeed, to the extent that religious communities do not manifest to both others and themselves the gentle yet challenging presence of the Spirit, they fall short of the explicit nature of their call to center their lives entirely around the reality of the risen Christ. He it was who first imparted the Holy Spirit to his body, the church. He it is who continues to do so even to the present day. Through their faithfulness to the vows, lived in community and in the Spirit, religious seek mainly to nourish their relation-ship with the risen Christ. This personal relationship to the Lord motivates all of their activity for the establishment of God's king-dom; it is also what draws others to follow their particular way of life. Indeed, the care with which they tend this relationship is itself a sign that the reality of Christ's resurrection is meant for all to share and experience in all its fullness. In this respect, reli-gious must be ever conscious that their vowed life in common has little meaning if it is separated from life in the Spirit of the risen Christ and seen as an end in itself. To be sure, there is noth-ing sadder in the life of the church than to see individual reli-gious and, at times, entire communities lose sight of the meaning of their vocation. When people of such great promise and poten-tial compromise themselves and begin to believe that the Spirit is no longer active in their lives and that things will never change for the better, when men and women, who are called to be signs of hope, begin to believe in the voices of hopelessness, then the time is ripe for a prophet to arise within their midst to challenge them to come back to the Lord and to live the life to which they have been called. At the same time, there is nothing more joyful in the life of the church than to see men and women who, out of love for their Lord, renounce the very things for which they most actually strive during their sojourn on earth. To live in poverty, without children or spouse, and without full personal liberty provides oth-ers with the constantly needed reminder that the fullness of riches, family life, and freedom is ultimately found only in one's rela-tionship to him whom the apostles acclaimed to be truly risen. 214 Review for Religious Conclusion This essay has sought to outline the basic, underlying principle of the Christian doctrine of the resurrection. It has done so, on the one hand, by describing in as precise detail as possible the mean-ing of the idea of resurrection as under-stood in the church's teaching and, on the other hand, by looking into some of the fundamental presuppositions regarding the resurrection of Christ as experienced by his earliest followers. Bringing these two currents of inquiry together, the funda-mental principle of the resurrection (the resurrection kernel) was described as the affirmation of faith that the idea of resur-rection has become a reality in the risen Christ. Seen as a transhistorical event with historical consequences, the acclaimed res-urrection of Jesus of Nazareth lies, for all practical purposes, beyond the scope of scientific verification and remains inti- Through their faithfulness to the vows, lived in community and in the Spirit, religious seek mainly to nourish their relationship with the risen Christ. mately tied to the internal, subjective event of faith to which it gave life. That is not to say that Jesus' resurrection has no ground in the external order, but only that it ultimately lies beyond the scope of controlled observation. In this respect, the faith experi-ence of those who experienced the risen Lord is qualitatively dif-ferent from that of those whose faith rests upon their testimony. Blessed precisely because they believe without seeing, today's believers share in the hope of their own transformed existence which, through their experience of the Spirit in the church com-munity of the faithful, may be experienced even now in the quiet anticipation of the fullness of a reality yet to come. They bring their hearts' deepest yearning for the fullest presence of the risen Christ to the table of the Lord, where they are blessed with a glimpse of

Issue 48.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1989. ; R~:.vn~w voa R~:.t.~c,~ous (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Mis-souri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus: Editorial Office: 3601 Lindcll Blvd. Rm. 428; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis MO. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: $12.00 per year; $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail, add U.S. $5.00 per year; for airmail, add U.S. $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: Rl~v~'0,, ~:o~ Rl-:t.~c;ous; P.O. Box 6070: Duluth, MN 55806. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to Rt:v~t:w roa RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. David L. Fleming, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors September/October 1989 Volume 48 Number 5 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to Rv:vt~w you R~:~.~;~otJs; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709-1193. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from Rv:\'~v:w voa Rr:~.~;~o~JS; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY I0010. PRISMS . We Christians come to know our calling to a certain kind of minis-try in the Church through our fidelity to prayer--a continuing dialogue in our relationship with God. By way of analogy, those in the vocation of married life know that the sacramental celebration of matrimony rep-resents only the start of a new relationship together with God. It will take a married lifetime of dialogue with each other and with God and of so living to make the reality of the sacrament come true. Similarly, those in the vocation of religious life signify in some way (commonly through some kind of vow-taking) that they are professing and aiming at a spe-cial relationship with God with the wholeness of their lives. Again re-ligious are well aware that vow or profession day is only the beginning of the dialoguing and of the living out of this "aimed-at" relationship. In these vocations of married and religious life, the Christian prayer of both the individual and the community (marital or religious) is a neces-sary part of the continuing dialogue which keeps alive and nourishes the particular vocation undertaken by our first responding to God's initia-tive. The call to minister in the name of Christ and officially authorized in the service of the Church also remains grounded in the prayer-dialogue. Ministry, not rooted in prayer, is no ministry at all. Good deeds done may represent admirable humanitarianism which we honor and appreciate, but we do not grace it with the identity of ministry. Min-istry flows from a consciousness of God and God's ways of acting and from a sense of responsibility in acting in the name of Christ's Body, the Church. The pervading consciousness of God and the connatural way of acting as God acts are the fruit of a prayer life, which is consistently fostered "for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health." This dialogue pei'meates and empowers our Christian life as well as our ministry whatever it may be. In this issue, we highlight two aspects of this continuing dialogue so necessary for our vocation and for ourmin!stry. The passion or fire in our Christian way of praying is reflected in the articles "The God of the Scriptures: An Invitation to Passionate Prayer" .by Anthony Wieczorek, O. Praem., "Romantic Relations with the Sacred" by Richard J. De- Maria, C.F.C., and "A Joyful Supp!ication for Justice" by A. Paul 641 642 Review for Religious, September-October 1989 Dominic, S.J. The passion--meaning self-emptying and often a sense of dying--is also a part of our Christian experience of growth in prayer; the articles "Negative Floating" by Barbara Dent and "Spiritual Dryness: Some Practical Guidelines" by Eamon Tobin give some insight into these always difficult moments. Three articles, viewing various aspects of our religious life vocation, are written within the specific prayer context of our lives. "Religious Formation: A Contemplative Realignment" by Jane Ferdon, O.P., con-siders the formation task. "Discernment and Elections in Religious In-stitutes" by Marcello De Carvalho Azevedo, S.J., focuses the very spe-cial moments of leadership choice and policy-making in religious in-stitutes. Finally, "Rituals of Death, Denial, and Refounding" by Ger-ald A. Arbuckle, S.M., reflects on the importance of religious celebrat-ing in a truly Christian manner the dying and death moments in their con-gregational life if revitalization or refounding is to occur today. In the northern hemisphere, the summer months are coming, to an end, with the traditional vacation time behind us for another year. We move on to another "work" year and whatever our ministry may be. With the help of God's grace, .we find ourselves at an opportune time to assess again how our lives, our ministries, and our prayer truly form one healthy and supportive ecological system. May our various authors in this issue contribute to our insight and give us perspective in our quest. David L. Fleming, S.J. The God of the Scriptures: An Invitation to Passionate Prayer Anthony Wieczorek, O.Praem. Father Anthony Wieczorek, O.Praem., is currently chaplain of the Sign of God Deaf Ministry office which serves the Deaf and Hearing Impaired community of the Green Bay diocese. He also directs the Theological Institute, a summer program at St. Norbert College in De Pere, Wisconsin. He continues to write a weekly article for the local diocesan newspaper. His address is St. Norbert Abbey; De Pere, Wiscon-sin 54115-2697. We all have them. Most of us have learned to control, even ignore them. But for some, they appear unasked for and when they do they are toler-ated with all the patience we have for a head cold. They are our emo-tions, our deep seated emotions, the dark and passionate side of our hu-man nature. We enjoy them when, at sports activities, we give ourselves permis-sion to act outraged or triumphant and they suit our moods. We like it when they sneak out quietly in the form of tears at the end of a touching movie. They may also try to make their presence known during prayer, but here they are often considered most distracting and least desired. And yet, if there is a time for emotion, if there is a time for passion at all, it is during prayer. Prayer is a naturally revealing activity. Ii is natural that passionate emotions should arise within us during.prayer. They are conduits to the parts of ourselves God wishes most to go. It is little wonder we should find them straining to emerge. Could it be that they are even called forth by a God eager to touch this part of ourselves so seldom shared? Unfortunately, they are the parts of ourselves we least of all like. Most often, they are corridors to the side of ourgelves we fear. They lead 643 60,4 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 into the cauldron of emotion we have not yet learned to control. We may not be really sure what lurks there but we are fairly confident that God has no part of it, that it is best shielded from God,-that what surges there is best atoned for in secret, not something to be proud of and shared openly with God. But are passionate emotions like anger and jealousy and lust called forth during times of prayer so that we can "confess" to them? Or are they summoned at God's own invitation? Can it be, might it be, that God can desire a passionate prayer as well and as much as a prayer that is con-templative, tranquil, and serene? Might it be that the God who appears ¯ throughout the pages of the Bible speaks to us best and can identify with us most through the part of ourselves we keep most hidden? The God of the Scriptures is indeed a passionate God. This article is an exploration of that theme and of the constructive relationship that exists between passion and prayer. The Passionate Nature of God Pascal was right when he said that there seemed to be two Gods: the God discussed by philosophers and the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God of the Scriptures. Most people prefer the philosophers' God. That Being is reasonable, controlled, logical. The God of the phi-losophers thinks, plans, orders, foresees. There is, of course, a "feel-ing" side to this God too. God does, after all, feel compassion and love for creation. But those "feelings" are held well in check and are dis-pensed cooly and properly. This God seems to resemble a fine Victorian gentleman/scholar. And, very often, especially here in the Western world, that is the image we would like to have of ourselves. That is the standard and goal we set for ourselves. The point is not that this image of God is false. But is it all there is? Is it only one side of a much more complex personality? Do we, with a too exclusively philosophical model of God, lose some of God's mys-tery because we fail to pay proper attention to God's emotion and pas-sionate nature? Perhaps such a theology is no more complete than an anthropology that deliberately ignores the emotional and passionate side of human be-ing? The point of human growth is to integrate and harmonize the parts of our nature i'nto one. To ignore our emotions is to ignore half of our selves. In addition to being rational, thinking creatures, human beings also love, feel anger, jealousy, crave revenge, desire, and feel pity. We are indeed complex beings. Can we dare imagine a God who is any less? Moreover, if we are so thoroughly emotional and if we were made in The God of the Scriptures / 6t15 God's own image and likeness, what can we conclude about God? Scripture tells us that "God is love." Love is, to be sure, more than an intellectual attitude or disposition toward life. Love is an emotion. Peo-ple in love are known sometimes to do strange things, spontaneous things, unpredictable things. Or so they seem to us. But to them, fol-lowing the "logic of love," their actions have a rationality, a purpose, an order. Finding it, though, and seeing the reasoning behind such ac-tions can be almost as hard as finding the sense and reason behind some of God's actions in our lives. God is not illogical nor is God emotion-ally unstable. God is simply love. God is simply in love with us "and with ¯ all of creation. God is a Being of great and passionate emotion. That, at least, is what the Scriptures tell us. Perhaps, to beg the question a bit, that is why God chose the Jews in the first place as recorders of divine revelation. The Jews, and all Near Eastern people for that matter, were extremely emotional and passionate people. Check the papers--they still are. But if you were God, would you have chosen them to write the record of your revelation? Many people would probably have preferred the Greeks. Their philo-sophical bent would more likely have appealed to us. And indeed, they would probably have done an admirable job at revealing God's mind. But could they have matched the Jewish brilliance for revealing God's heart? The Jewish passion for life was a most fitting medium for the man-ner of God's message. For the Scriptures reveal in emotional and pas-sionate imagery and terms the heart as well as the mind of God. Maybe, we argue, the Jewish people were simply transferring their own emotional nature onto God and that God no more has passionate feel-ings than God has legs withwhich to walk around in the garden of Eden. Yet, even though they were not meant to be read literally, all the images and words do reveal and communicate something about God. To glean this, though, the Scriptures must be read with an open mind and heart. God's Emotional Involvement in Life What do the Scriptures tell us about God? The Bible reveals a God who is very much alive and near. The biblical God does not observe the glories and follies of creation from afar. This is not a God who aloofly administri~tes creation and human history. Rather, this is a God who min-isters, to it and within it. The God of the Bible is pastorally involved in human life. We know that because the Scriptures reveal a God who is emotionally involved in human life. There are levels and degrees of involvement in community, in fam-ily, in politics, in everything regarding life. One criterion for measuring 646 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 or determining the depth of involvement is the amount of emotional in-vestment shown. In community living, for example, it is easy enough to state one's involvement in community affairs. One may even show up at community meetings and functions. But does that person's words and presence communicate an active involvement or a benign disinterest? Does body language alone, for instance, tell the others present that, "I am here to observe. Really, I couldn't care less what happens. It is some-what interesting, even humorous though. Just continue and pretend I'm not here." No words may communicate that. But the message is made, communicated through posture, through sleepy eyes and flacid facial e~- pression. On the other hand is the person very much involved in the pro-ceedings. Like the other, thi~ person says not a word. Yet through all the same means the message communicated is much different. This per-son exhibits interest through a tense body, through a face that while si-lent is red with anger or aglow with satisfaction. The eyes hold an inter-est, the palms sweat, a leg fidgets nervously. This person is truly and pastorally present and alive. Why? Because the person is visibly emo-tionally involved. And that is what we want from each other and from God. Similarly, why do we become upset with the "professional" pastor who runs the office well and administrates the parish efficiently but who cannot feel his people's pain, who cannot rejoice at someone's birth or mourn at another's death? Why do we feel cheated? Why does the per-son seem pastorally out of touch and somehow less a priest than the pas-tor who is able and willing to be emotionally present to the people? Why does the emotionally uninvested pastor seem to communicate less God's presence? Why do we feel disappointed? For what reason do we feel we should be able to expect and receive more? All of this speaks to an image or a set of expectations we have about God. Because God cares, God's ministers should also care. Because God is able to and does feel with the people, so should God's priests and pas-toral workers. We want and need to feel God present in our lives and feel cheated by those who serve in God's name if somehow we cannot sense from them a deeper presence of God than the merely physical. We want and feel a right to expect an emotional presence and involvement. We want our pastoral workers to be passionately present and active. We want and expect that because we feel God is passionately present and ac-tive. But why? Does that expectation and feeling originate within us alone? Or is that the image Of God that is mysteriously and boldly com- The God of the Scriptures /647 municated through almost every page of the Bible? Indeed, God is most emotionally present and involved in the lives of the Jewish people. That is true from exodus to exile, from restoration through resurrection. God communicates through the Scriptures a presence and involvement that is intensely passionate. The Passionate God of the Prophets Nowhere is this more evident than in the writings of the prophets. Within the prophetic books we see a picture of a God at wits' end. The people had rebelled from God's love and were running headlong toward destruction. We hear a response from God that is the emotional equal of what is politically, socially, and spiritually at stake. Read with the emotion befitting the texts Amos 8:4-8 or 4:!-3 or Hosea'l !:1-11 or Jeremiah 7:i-20 or Isaiah 54:78 or any of the other prophets, and you find the words of a person on the edge, the words of a person who is not at all detached or even mildly interested. In those words and so many others we receive a message of a God filled with pas-sion for the welfare of his people, a God who is truly emotionally in-volved in the life, past and future, of his people. If there is anger in God's words, it is the anger of a parent or lover, the passion of someone who cares tremendously about another. It is an anger born of frustration and love. Who has been in love without feel-ing anger? Love is a powerful emotion that opens us up to other equally powerful feelings. And what of the energy invested in both love and an-ger? Passion has a high price in emotional energy that is paid only by those truly sincere about what they feel. The quality and quantity of God's emotion so naked and strong throughout the prophets is testimony to the sincerity of God's passionate love. Moreover, it is a passion and sincerity that God expects in return. Love that is deep and intense expects a return in kind. One of our ways of showing love is through our prayer, both private and liturgical. Note, then, in Isaiah I:11-16 and Amos 5:21-25 and Jeremiah 7:21-28, the re-action of God to worship that is liturgically correct but void of sincerity and feeling. God expects a worship from the heart, a worship that is a reflection of our love. To be proper and true to the rubrics is not enough, not even the most important thing. What God seeks is what God gives, a prayer that is emotionally sincere. What God "hates" and "detests," what is "loathsome" to God is prayer empty of affect. That does not mean that worship must be a wild and ecstatic affair. However, it must be sincere; it must reveal an authentic human warmth. Worship, prayer, is more than so many words or lack of them. We can 648 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 meditate quite correctly and all without opening our hearts in love. A prayer that is emotionally fl~t.and cold is the sacrifice displeasing to God. Perhaps that is why Paul tells.us that because "we-do, not know how to pray as we ought, the Spirit makes intercession f~or us with groanings that cannot be-expressed in speech" (Rm 8:26). That is an invitation to pray our feelings, to pray from and with our emotions. That is what God asks for and longs to share, for it is that which is most truly in our hearts. The Spirit helps us to raise what we are feeling in prayer, even if it can be expressed in no other way than by a groan. Since we are to live as we pray, God expects from us a life that is emotionally honest and open. How often we repress our feelings and hold in check our passion. We refuse to allow ourselves to feel and that pre-vents us from being as effective and compassionate as Jesus was and calls us to be. The "cry of the poor" is too painful to hear so we learn to close to the poor not only our ears but also our hearts. We dull our abil-ity and willingness to feel and so lose a major motivating force behind Christian action. Pity is not the issue here, rather compassion and jus-tice. Perhaps it was because Jesus was a man of such strong emotions that he was as compassionate and sensitive as the Scriptures say. Yet not only did Jesus have strong feelings, he was willing to live with them and feel them. Because he did not repress what he felt but lived what he felt he could be moved enough to touch and heal the leper (Mk 1:41) and raise the widow's son (Lk 7:11-17). If Jesus was the troublemaker and law-breaker the Pharisees claimed, it was because he allowed his emotions to so move his charity and inspire his faith that he saw not simply the law but the people the law did not and could not serve. God's Call for a Passionate Faith Jesus' emotion is most manifest in his faith. Many people were raised to believe that faith is something we do with our minds, that faith is an intellectual act of agreement or obedience to a tradition or set of beliefs. While it may be that, it is not only that. This is clear from the way Jesus lived and how he believed. For Jesus, faith was an emotion that gripped not only his mind, but his heart and body as well. Oftentimes one emotion is held in check by another. A boy, for in-stance, may want to introduce himself to a girl. The "love" he feels for her is held in check, though, by his "fear" of being rejected. He de-cides to say nothing. Fear has overruled his young love. Similarly, a per-son may feel inclined to speak out on a justice issue. That person too feels fear. But this time the person's convictions on the matter, the per- The God of the Scriptures / 649 son's belief, is the stronger of the two and bids the person to speak out. Here faith overruled fear. All of us know what fear is, all of us have felt it. Reflect for a mo-ment what happens when you feel fear. The mind freezes, it becomes difficult or even impossible to think. The entire body is also affected. Knees shake, palms sweat, the mouth runs dry. If the fear is sharp enough we may even close our eyes and prefer to block out the cause of our fear. Fear, to be sure, is a powerful emotion. It would require, then, an equally powerful emotion to counter it. Only two emotions give us the courage to overcome fear: love and faith--although the two are intimately related. A mother stands terrified at the sight of her burning home when she hears the cry of her child from within. Her fear of the flames and smoke cause her to stand for a mo-ment paralyzed until love for her child overpowers the fear and forces her in to rescue him. Jeremiah the prophet stands equally terrified be-fore the people gathered at the Temple. He too, however, hears--or rather feels--an inner voice, the call of God bidding him to speak in God's name. For a moment his fear prevails before the faith within his heart overwhelms it and causes him to cry out. . How many of us have had our faith compromised by fear? By clos-ing ourselves to our feelings, by repressing our emotions, we have been eliminating a source of strength that could well empower our faith to ri-val that of tl~e prophets. If our faith is solely intellectual it is but half, at best, of what it could be. Faith is authentic when it flows from our hearts, when it flows from our love for God. Jeremiah, for example, and Jesus after him, may have seemed like people without faith because they spoke against the traditions and cus-toms of the people. They could rightly be asked, "Have you no faith, Jeremiah, in the Temple and the promise God made to dwell in it always? Why is it so hard for you to have faith in what our traditions teach.? Why can't you agree with them?" Faith in this sense is an act of the intellect. But for Jeremiah, for the other prophets, and for Jesus, faith was an act of love; its motive force was an intuition of God's abiding presence within. They felt God's love and returned it as they could (that is, they believed) and it was that faith in God's love that enabled them to stand up and say what their hearts could not deny. The love they felt empowered them, gave their faith the spirit of cour-age. All of us are given the gift of that love. All of us have within our-selves the courage to truly use our faith. But so often in closing ourselves to our emotions, in denying them, we deny ourselves the grace, the love, Review for Religious, September-October 1989 that gives us the courage to truly believe. Jesus and the prophets before him were not ashamed of their emotions. Indeed, they prayed with them (Jeremiah's lamentations, for example) by bringing them before God in-stead of hiding them in the dark recesses of their spirits. By so doing, they provide an example for all us of authentic living and prayer. Praying with our Emotions Oddly enough, it is the emotion of fear that most inhibits us from bringing our.other emotions to prayer. As mentioned earlier, prayer is a naturally revealing activity. In prayer, the love and union we share with God is revealed and made known to us. We may receive the revelation of truths and intuitions about questions and problems we may have, as well as insights into God and ourselves. It is this that often scares us into emotional and spiritual repression. In the quiet, centering communion of prayer with God, we forget to maintain many of the blocks and barriers we place between our conscious selves and our more disquieting emotions. Suddenly and quite unexpect-edly we can find the composure of our prayer compromised by unwel-comed feelings. The person whose thoughts continue to center upon feel-ings of passion for a lover, the religious whose heart is suddenly filled with anger and resentment toward a superior, the person who becomes aware of his or her jealousy and envy--all of these people find the re-warding calm of prayer ruined by the onslaught of emotions. In each of these cases, whether or not prayer has been ruined de-pends upon whose agenda is being followed. Prayer is a dialogue. How-ever, especially with meditation, prayer can become a monologue of si-lence. Our meditation can be but another way of saying, "Listen God, there are just some things I'd sooner not think about. Why don't we just sit here quietly and ignore them together." Our prayer agenda calls for some peace and quiet, a bit of reprieve, a break in the action of confron-tation. Yet we find ourselves continually pestered by thoughts and feel-ings we've decided not to share. Might it be, however, that their contin-ual interruption is an effort on God's part to make it part of our prayer? Might God have an agenda too? And might that agenda include the very feelings we are so desperate to ignore? It might do well, then, since prayer is a dialogue, to "ask" God about what should be shared. One way of doing so is by beginning our prayer with a bit of soul searching journaling. We might record what and how we are feeling, any significant encounters we have had with peo-ple, good and bad. The point is not to dwell on any of them. Rather we acknowledge what is already inside of us. We acknowledge it to God and The God of the Scriptures / 651 to ourselves. Then, having done that, we set it aside and open ourselves to God. Yet, the very action of having been honest with ourselves about what we arefeeling has already opened the doors to our deepest selves to God. We have laid everything bare and have effectively told God, "Well, now that you know, what do you say?" Then if our prayer is quiet, perhaps God is saying, "Let it rest for now," and so we should. If, however, we find the emotions returning, perhaps we should pay them some prayerful attention. It is one matter to continually harp on a feeling and another tO at-tend to one that finds its way to the surface. Yet it is here that fear can overcome all else and totally inhibit our communion with God, not to mention any communion with ourselves. We are afraid of what may come if we allow our emotions to flow. We are afraid of what God may think if we stood before God with emotions bare. Perhaps most of all, we are afraid of what we would have to admit about ourselves if we al-lowed our spiritual vision to focus upon our feelings. Especially in times of stress, when we need prayer most, we are most reluctant, most afraid to pray because the emotions we so fear are so close to surface, so hard to dispel. In such cases the fear and shame we so strongly feel should be the opening movement of our prayer. But here is the test. Have we the faith to share what we fear? Here we become the shy person struggling to talk to a friend. Here we become the mother rooted in fear or stirred by love into action. Here we find the revelation, not of God but of ourselves, that prayer so powerfully conveys. Here we find a truth about ourselves. Prayer is a dialogue. Has God been speaking, shouting through hands pressed tight against our ears, trying to get through? Summary We can repress our prayer and weaken our faith because we are un-willing to face the passion of our own emotions. Why? Is it God's rejec-tion or wrath that we fear or is it facing the truth about ourselves? Some people are simply ashamed that they are emotional people at all. Some-where many of us have learned that we should be rational at the expense of being emotional. Emotions are something to master, signs of weak-ness, occasions for sin. To be holy is to be emotionally controlled. Pei-haps. To be sure, some emotions need to be held in check. Some need to be confessed. But not all. Our emotions are occasions for grace, provided we let our God work through them. They can be conduits leading to deeper prayer. They can be the means for facing and overcoming our fear of living. For indeed, 652 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 without emotions we are less than human. We were made in the image and likeness of a living, feeling God who is revealed in the pages of Scrip-ture as a truly passionate lover, a God who, for example, is quite honest about being "jealous." We were made to have feelings and to use our emotions to feel and act alive. If Jesus was not ashamed of the force of his emotions, why should we? As Christians we are called to become fully alive. That means learn-ing to live with and harness our emotions. Truly, our emotions are gifts from God, gifts to be enjoyed, gifts for which we can be grateful. But before any of that can happen, our emotions must first be accepted. The Dancer Is falling in love with you autumn leaves swirling in the wind, fish swimming in the flooded ,,;hallows after a heavy rainfall? Is this love a meditative symphony, where the listener is impelled to pause, be attentive to the secret voice talking with his heart? Is this love a walk without fear into the forest of Solitude, where I go to plant my tree of hope? Is this love an ancient la Jota, sometimes graceful and slow, at other moments fast and exciting? How do I overcome my reluctance? Become like David, who danced before the Lord because it was pleasing to him? Brother Richard Heatley, F.S.C. De La Salle Centre 45 Oaklands Avenue Toronoto, Ontario M4V 2E4, Canada Romantic Relations with the Sacred Richard J. DeMaria, C.F.C. Brother Richard DeMaria, C.F.C., currently serves as Executive Vice President and the Vice President for Academic Affairs at lona College. His address is lona Col-lege; New Rochelle, New York 10801. In the recent, surprisingly successful film, Th~rOse, based on the life of St. Th6r~se of Lisieux, there is a scene that has remained with me for months. Th6r~se's sister visits her during what was to be a terminal ill-ness, and noticing that Th6r~se has pinned a small crucifix to her pil-low, observes: "So you two are back together again." To which, as I recall it, Th6r~se blushes and nods in agreement. The audience--a New York City audience--to my amazement did not laugh here or at any time during a movie which portrayed Th6r~se as a woman engaged in a ro-mantic relationship with Jesus, a relationship characterized by falling outs, jealousies, reunions, disagreements, and coquetry. And by love. And by passion. The film places Th6r~se in a very old tradition of spirituality, a tra-dition which uses the language and ways of romantic love to describe a person's interaction with the sacred. The romantic poem "The Song of Songs" comes immediately to mind: the longing of a bride for her bride-groom is used as an image of the human experience with the sacred. Ap-parently that image was found sufficiently apt among the Hebrew peo-ple for the poem to be included and preserved in its canon of sacred litera-ture. We find in other religions similar spiritualities linking sexual im-agery and prayer, the link sometimes explicitly recognized and cele-brated, at other times, we assume, camouflaged and unrecognized but fairly apparent to those who read between lines. As R. Zaehner, the Oxford authority on mysticism, observes: 653 654 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 There is no point at all blinking at the fact that the raptures of the theis-tic mystic are closely akin to the transports of sexual union, the soul play-ing the part of the female and (~od appearing as the male. ~ In the history of religion, one finds many spiritualities that approach life as if there were two lovers involved. In Hinduism, one finds among the different paths by which one can yoke himself or herself to God, the path of bhakti in which one takes on the Lord as lover. Kabir, the fif-teenth- century Indian mystic, as translated by Bly, uses the term "the Guest" to name the inner lover: My body and my mind are in depression because you are not with me. How much I love you and want you in. my house! When 1 hear people describe me as your bride I look sideways ashamed, Because I know that far inside us we have never met. Then what is this love of mine? I don't really care about food, I don't really care about sleep, I am restless indoors and outdoors. The bride wants her lover as much as a thirsty man wants water. And how will I find someone who will take a message to the Guest from me? How restless Kabir is all the time! How much he wants to see the Guest!z The existence of a relationship between mysticism and sexuality is clear and widespread in the historical record. The question is: how shall we interpret and understand the presence of romaritic and sexual lan-guage in religious writing? More to the point are the following questions: Is it possible to carry on a love relationship with an invisible, non-human lover? Does this spirituality find any basis in the way things are? Is there someone there to love? Is this use of romantic language healthy? Unless we at least advert to these questions from the outset, they stand as obstacles to our ability to approach this tradition with openness. There are many analysts who interpret experiences of romantic spiri-tuality as situations in which sexual energy, having been denied its usual outlet, finds a (distorted) outlet in the religious arena. Accordingly, mys-ticism is in reality sexual energy that is misdirected. Although this sub-limation is usually unrecognized by the person involved, its true nature can be readily recognized by the perceptive observer. In sum, people in-volved in religious romanticism are victims of misplaced energy; their lives are based upon an unreal perception of the way things are. Other analysts suggest that the situation is quite the opposite: a ba-sic drive, a basic need within humans, is for union with the transcendent. Romantic Relations with the Sacred / 655 According to this theory, the mystic is a person who is responding quite directly to this basic drive. Other humans respond to this drive by en-gaging themselves in sexual, romantic relationships with other humans. This is a valid way of fulfilling this need. The power of human, inter-personal sexuality, and the way that relationship is experienced and de-scribed, derive from the more basic desire of the human to interact with the sacred. Because the inter-human sexual experience is one form of the more general mystical experience, it should not surprise us that the lan-guage of human love and the language of mystical 10ve are quite simi-lar. Alan W. Watts, in Myth and Ritual in Christianity makes the fol-lowing observation: But a sexually self-conscious culture such as our own must beware of its natural tendency to see religion as a symbolizing of sex, for to sexu-ally uncomplicated people it has always been obvious that sex is a sym-bol of religion. That is to say, the ecstatic self-abandonment of nuptial love is the average man's nearest approach to the selfless state of mys-tical and metaphysical experience. For this reason the act of love is the easiest and most readily intelligible illustration of what it is like to be in "union with God," to live the eternal life, free from self and time.3 Perhaps it will never be possible to prove convincingly which of these two theories is true. Some look to an epistemology which concen-trates its attention not on questions about the way things are but rather on questions about what ways work. Such an approach considers a the-ory to be true, or a path to be true, when it works. Pragmatic approaches to understanding our lives can reflect a careless and shallow attitude about truth, but not necessarily so. The form of pragmatism discussed here, recognizing the complexity of the human psyche and the mystery of the sacred, and recognizing the inability of the human mind to under-stand these with any clarity, reasons that if a particular construct or the-ory works, it works because it approximates the way things are. This is an epistemology often used in the physical sciences. Consider, for ex-ample, the solar system model of the atom. No one has seen an atom. Serious scientists do not think that the atom is composed of electrons, circling a nucleus of neutrons and protons, like a solar system. Scien-tists, however, have used the construct of a solar system when thinking about the atom, because when they have followed out the implications of that model, they have been able to explain many past experiences (ex-periments). And, even more importantly, when they devised new experi-ments and applications suggested by the model, these led to important new discoveries. Science has done well, then, to think of the atom as if 656 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 it were a solar system. Even if the atom is not a solar system, the solar system picture predicts how the atom will work. And it is not unreason-able to conclude from this that in many ways the solar system model ap-proximates the reality of the atom. In sum, while recognizing that a con-struct is an imagined picture, a person follows it because she believes that it will lead her close to the way things are. Against the background of this epistemology, we can now turn our attention to those paths in which a person is involved in a relationship with a person who is not physically present but who is perceived to be real, important, and worthy of ~ittention; a relationship which according to the person herself and according to observers, gives direction and strength. Whether the other is perceived as guru, teacher, patron, guide, angel, patron saint, or--as in the particular spirituality we are discuss-ing-- as the romantically loved one, the relationship has a real effect upon the growth and behavior of the participant. In his play Big Shot, Jack Gelber portrays the positive, powerful influence which two "imagi-nary" persons--a wise, aged prophetic man, and a seductive woman-- have upon a young man's ability to make decisions about his life and to move toward maturity. (Interestingly, these two visitors never appear to-gether in the boy's thoughts; the appearance of one signals the exit of the other. At the play's end, however, they interact with one another and exit together, perhaps symbolizing something of an integration of the re-ligious and the sexual in his consciousness.) According to what was said above, one should evaluate the tradition of romantic spirituality by asking: What happens to persons when they act as if there were an inner sacred person there? Does it lead to desir-able ends? In this approach one judges a religious path worth consider-ing if it has "worked" for many people, in many religions, in many dif-ferent ages. What is meant by "worked"? The validity of this or any path is established by its ability to lead practitioners into that special con-sciousness which is called "religious." In the Christian faith, people in that consciousness are said to be in the state of sanctifying grace and ex-hibit characteristics such as love, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, trustfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Ga 5:22). History attests that the path of devotion, of romantic love, is a path that has led many to that consciousness; the way works. The seeker of God who utilizes the con-struct of romantic love does not need to know for certain whether there is a real person with whom she can interact in love. She does know that when she acts as if there were such a person, wonderful things do hap-pen. In Bhakti Yoga, the author writes: Romantic Relations with the Sacred / 657 All our attitudes, moral or emotional, as well as religious are due to the objects of our consciousness: the things which we believe to exist whether really or ideally along with ourselves. Such objects may be pre-sent to our senses or they may be present to our thought; in either case they elicit from us a reaction and the reaction due to things of thought is notoriously in many cases as strong as that due to sensible presences. It may even be stronger . 4 How does one follow this path? By undertaking the same practices which a man or woman utilizes in establishing a love relationship with a human being. By conversing. By sharing feelings. By trying to please. By actions of union. By admiration. By efforts to merge into one an-other. By writing poems of love. By singing songs of love. By making sacrifices. By exchanging gifts. By establishing rituals, special places, and special times. By secrets shared. By anger expressed. And by hurts told. By arguing. By compromising. How does one advise or counsel a person on this path? As one would advise or counsel a person struggling with any experience of love. The spiritual director will help him to recognize the stages of love. The di-rector will lead her to expect periods of doubt, of loneliness, of seeming neglect, of loss of attraction--the dark nights of the soul. He must be assisted in learning the art of conversation, and especially the art of lis-tening. (For let there be no doubt about it: the person does experience conversation, responses and answers that surprise by their unexpected-ness. Where do these answers come from? Suffice it to say that when questions are asked of this inner lover, this inner guest,' one "hears" answers.) The director will need to counsel the practitioner about the im-portance of fidelity, to help recall the good times in moments of dark-ness, and to point her to better times ahead. The person engaged in this path does experience another actor in his life. Outside observers may wish to interpret this experience as the ef-fects of the "alter ego," or the "subconscious," or the "repressed self." These interpretations should not be allowed to discourage the lover, if forhim the experience of this other is real, and if the effects of carrying out a relationship of love with that "person" are beneficial and if they are leading her into grace. This path does not work for everyone. In New Wineskins,5 Sandra Schneiders observes that in earlier times it was assumed that all women entering into the religious life would find in this romantic spirituality a comfortable and effective path. Women religious, on their day of pro-fession, came to the altar dressed as brides, as the choir sang "Veni Review for Religious, September-October 1989 Sponsa Christi," in a ceremony that was designed to imitate in many ways that of a marriage. Schneiders suggests that in fact many Sisters did not find this path to be effective for them. For many, it was a kind of play.acting, which in later years---especially if they were influenced by Freudian thinking--they came to regard as a childish effort to subli-mate energies better redirected in other ways. Today, almost all traces of this bridal spirituality have been removed from the rituals and from the language of contemporary religious women. Women who have en-tered religious life in recent years may not even be aware of this spiritu-ality. By way of conclusion, two questions about this path of spirituality suggest themselves. First, in this relationship, does the soul always take the role of the feminine to the masculine God, a role in which the hu-man seeks to be filled, empowered, or taken over by the other? The male poet, Kabir, cited before, who wrote in a culture which knew of both male and female gods, always--at least in translation--describes him-self as feminine in relationship to the sacred. Listen to the following poem: I played for ten years with the girls of my own age, but now I am sud-denly in fehr. I am on the way up some stairs--they are high. Yet I have to give up my fears if I want to take part in this love. I have to let go of the protective clothes and meet him with the whole length of my body. My eyes will have to be the love candles this time. Kabir says: Men and women in love will understand this poem. If what you feel for the holy one is not desire, then what's the use of dressing with such care, and spending so much time making your eyelids dark.6 Can one approach the sacred as masculine? Or must one utilize the feminine side (the anima) in one's relationship with the sacred (assum-ing of course that every person, regardless of gender, is both animus and anima)? And if this is true, will this path of spirituality come more natu-rally to women than to men? Or, again if it is true, would the fact that a person has a gay or lesbian orientation affect the attractiveness and ef-fectiveness of this spirituality? A second questign.: what (if any) is the connection between this spousal spirituality and celibacy? Clearly, spousal spirituality does ap-peal and does work for non-celibates as well as celibates. Does celibacy enable one to pursue this path more quickly or more deeply? Does the fact that one is not pursuing the path of romantic human love dispose one Romantic Relations with the Sacred / 659 toward this path more urgently? Or, to take the quite opposite position, would familiarity and experience with human romantic love give one the lexicon and the understandings that enable one to move more quickly into this more interior love? To conclude: the spiritual path of romantic relationships with the sa-cred has been neglected in recent years, perhaps because twentieth-century psychology has called into question so many of the foundations upon which it was based. There is, however, a way of understanding our ways of knowing, consonant with contemporary science, which gives 'permission' to those so attracted to follow this path, to see whether it leads them into grace. While the path will not attract, nor work for, eve-ryone, a knowledge of its history and dynamics should be made avail-able to those who are searching for ways into the world of the sacred. NOTES ~ R.C. Zaehner, Mysticism, Sacred and Profane, (New York, 1961), p. 151. 2 Robert Bly, trans., The Kabir Book, (Boston, 1977), p. 20. 3 Alan W. Watts, Myth and Ritual in Christianity, (Boston, 1968), p. 104. 4 "Bhikshu," Bhakti Yoga, (Chicago, 1930), p. 19. 5 Sandra Schneiders, New Wineskins, Re-imagining Religious Life Today, (New York, !986), p. 116. 6 Bly, p. 42. Negative Floating Barbara Dent Barbara Dent, mother and grandmother, has been for eigthteen years a Secular Carme-lite. She published "The Floating Prayer" in our issue of March/April 1988. The current article is a part of a book-in-process called Floating in Endless Love. She may be addressed at Poustinia; 7A Cromwell Place; Pukekohe, New Zealand. In this article I use the word "floating" to indicate the kind of detach-ment and freedom that is attained once we have ascended a certain dis-tance up the nada path. When I write of "floating in endless love," 1 mean the traditional self-abandonment to divine providence as exemplified by holy people of any age, and written about by such recognized saints as Teresa, John of the Cross, Francis de Sales, Jane Frances de Chantal, Caussade, Th~r~se. Our Lady is, of course, the supreme exemplar, and her "Be it done unto me according to your word," a succinct summary of the doc-trine. Divine providence is God's endless love. It had no beginning and will never have an end. It is conterminous with his Being and expresses itself throughout his creation. When he made us in his own image, he gave us the ability to be ef-fortlessly immersed in this love, borne along in the currents and eddies of its movement in time and space, as it ordained and controlled the cir-cumstances of our lives, and we rejoiced in its faultless wisdom and ten-derness. At that beginning-time we had our Creator's discerning Spirit within us, and joyfully cooperated with the process of floating in the divine will, for through it the perfection of his love for us expressed itself, and we were fully open and receptive to it. We were in the state of innocence, which means single-mindedness and wholeness of heart. 660 Negative Floating / 66"1 Then came the "aboriginal catastrophe"--in one, or many, of a num-ber of possible forms. Its basic effect was to confuse, divide, and mis-lead us about the nature of our relationship with our Master. We were, and are, no longer in that original state of love-union's positive, effort-less floating. Instead, we are too often thrashing about in protest at being in the water at all. We persist in struggling to reach some imaginary shore, strik-ing out against the current, gulping water, feeling terrified that we are drowning, pushing away Love's hand held out to draw us to safety, and generally being at odds with our spiritual environment. Our innocence lost, we have become acquainted with sin--actual or potential, deliberate or involuntary. Floating in endless love does not any longer seem to be the obvious, healthy, joyous thing for us to do. We have lost the art, and have to be taught all over again by grace. And because we no longer learn the mys-teries of God effortlessly through direct infusion, the Spirit's modes of teaching us often register on us as nay-saying, destructive, painful, and incomprehensible. This is because God's endless love flowing into us is constantly encountering obstacles of self-love and self-will within us. These cause the flow to be interrupted, dammed up, diverted, and im-peded in numberless ways. We now have to re-learn what we were fashioned to know without even thinking about it. This learning is painful and arduous, and regis-ters on us as a state of negative floating. It entails erasure of all those obstacles against floating--whether personally manufactured, handed on to us by our families and social milieu, or inherited and buried so deeply in our mysterious inner being that we shall never even catch sight of them, let alone drag them up and free ourselves from them, unless the Spirit helps us in a very special way. We are weighted down so that we are more likely to sink to the ocean bed than to float in delight in the surface currents of God's purpose, rev-elling in their effortless, exact progress towards our ultimate fulfillment in him. Positive and negative floating are part of the normal cycle of conso-lation and desolation in the spiritual life. If we persevere in floating in God's loving purpose for us, there comes a time when, just as his crea- ¯ tive energy evolved birds out of fish, he somehow dispenses altogether with the metaphorical liquid element in order to lift us up so high in the Spirit that we are suspended in midair. We usually think of such suspension as bodily levitation and miracu- 662 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 IOUS. But the essence of free-floating in the atmosphere, metaphorically speaking, is entirely spiritual and interior, a flight of the spirit that usu-ally has no physical, exterior signs at all. It is the result of an opening up to God's love that on our part includes the complete abandonment of our whole selves to his usage, and on his part such lavish infusion of his grace that its energy elevates us temporarily into his own Being. This is the ultimate in positive floating. It mysteriously and paradoxi-cally also includes the ultimate in negative floating, for in order to give ourselves up to it, we need to have renounced all the not-God elements so that there is now nothing at all in us or our lives opposing his desire to take full possession of us. God is non-corporeal. When this moment of total possession takes place, he draws up our non-corporeal spirit to merge with his own. This merging, can be accomplished in both, or either, of the positive and nega-tive floating states. After about six months of intensely positive floating immediately af-ter my reception into the Church in 1956, I was gradually translated into the negative floating state and remained there without any remission for nearly twelve years. During my conversion year, 1955, I had already learnt to enter Christ's passion with him by uniting my personal suffering with his in Gethsemane and throughout the various aspects of his passion, especially his cross-carrying and crucifixion. At one particular time in 1958 when I vividly experienced what I came to call the crucifixion of my heart, something extra happened within me that I could at the time define only as "entombment." Yet the crucifixion did not cease. I was somehow still on the cross with Christ even while I was lying dead with him in the cave tomb's cold darkness. I cannot explain how this was. I only know it happened, and was spiritually and interiorily real in an agonizing way. I think I was able to endure these years of intensely negative float-ing only because, during most of them, I was fully occupied being a daily Mass-goer, solo mother, housekeeper, teacher, breadwinner, writer, and student. There was not much opportunity for what my mother disparag-ingly used to call "navel-gazing"--adding, in exasperation, "Why don't you go out and have a good game of tennis!" In spite of immersion in an undoubtedly and unavoidably active life (my form of a good game of tennis!), I yet received insights from time to time that infused some sense into the non-sense of my relationship Negative Floating / 663 with God. For this was where the nonsense, the absurdity, occurred. My rela-tionship with Jesus in his incarnational work of suffering redeemer and crucified Lord made very good sense to me, and gave me the courage to go on enduring. It was from God and his ways that the conundrum originated. Once more he had become for me the "cruel, sadistic mon-ster" who, during the early war years, had caused my rejection of my personal and inadequate version of the Christian religion. One of the key insights I received in the earlier of these negative float-ing years of the 1960s came about as follows. I can visualize clearly where it happened, just as I can vividly recall .where other significant, instant comprehensions occurred, for example, those about "the abyss of corruption" and the self-love involved in my mechanism of setting out to "fascinate" certain people. Such instant dis-cernments come to me like a crystal globe enclosing the truth, and put whole and clear in my mind all at once. The experience is completely different from arriving at a similar conclusion by the laborious process - of ratiocination. It is a matier of immediate comprehension received as a whole and in passivity. In fact, in a floating state, as it were. On this particular occasion I was sitting one morning at the desk in the home of my eldest daughter and her husband, alone in the house ex-cept for a sleeping child. Then in one instant the insight came whole-- just like a very bright light being turned on in my mind, then extin-guished almost immediately, yet leaving behind it the vivid impression of a particular mystery made plain in its illumination. In this case, I "understood" what caused Jesus to cry out, "My God, my God, why have you rejected me?" Just as I had become one with him in other aspects of his passion at various times, now I had become one with him in his cry of derelic-tion. His cry was one with the cry of my own heart to an alien, absentee God, whose face was turned away from me in contempt. Jesus' despair-ing question was to do with his having consented to be "made sin" for us. This was the central point-of the illumination given me. I had bought my Knox bible in 1956 and used it until I obtained the Jerusalem version in 1969. The texts I have marked in the Knox were the ones that had very special meaning for me personally during these darkest years of the cry of dereliction. I have underlined, "Christ never knew sin, and God made him into sin for us, so that in him we might be turned into the holiness of God" (2 Co 5:21). I "saw" that sin was absolutely abhorrent to and automatically re- 664 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 pudiated by God because it was the antithesis of his own unblemished holiness and purity. "God was in Christ, reconciling the world to him-self, establishing in our hearts his message of reconciliation, instead of holding men to account for their sins" (2 Co 5: 19), and "In Christ the whole plenitude of Deity is embodied." Hanging on the cross, dying for us, "made sin," Jesus, though God himself, consented to be relegated in his manhood to the furthest possi-ble distance from God--as f~ir as pure sin must be, of its nature, dis-tanced from pure holiness. It must have been the most elemental, cata-clysmic, schizoid split of all time. In and through this alienation Jesus endured, "the world"--all of us sinners of all time--could be "reconciled" to God instead of being eternally severed from him in self-induced banishment. In effect, Jesus willed to go through the experience of damnation as our proxy, as vic-tim instead of us. This meant knowing God only through the aching void of his ab-sence; submitting to the punitive action of the total recoil of pure holi-ness from pure unholiness; being invaded by a sense of rejection so ab-solute as to know what the hell-state meant, and to be engulfed in it. There is impenetrable mystery here, a paradox so extreme that the human mind cannot encompass it. How could Christ, in whom "the whole plenitude of Deity" remained unimpaired, yet experience himself as "the totality of sin" rejected by that Deity? The how, the mystery, is beyond our human comprehension. The paradox is mind-blowing. I cannot explain fully what I "saw" in the illumination. At the time, I knew it without intellectual explication. This came later, as I meditated upon what I had received, and thought more about what Paul said, out of what was obviously his own personal experience and given insight. Enli/~htenments about this mystery hidden within Christ's dereliction cry have continued to come spasmodically to me up to this present time. "All alike have sinned, all alike are unworthy of God's praise. And justification comes to us as a free gift from his grace, through our re-demption in Christ Jesus. God has offered him to us as a means of rec-onciliation, in virtue of faith, ransoming us with his blood" (Rm 3:23- 25). I had already understood how the solidarity of the human race was such that the salvation or damnation of any one of us must involve and concern all of us. In pouring out in his shed blood his "free gift of grace" for us, Jesus excluded no one, for none of us is sinless. We are all inevitably born programmed for possible disaster by the racial accu- Negative Floating mulation of wrong turnings made while trying to reach a destination whose nature and location we are confused about. Our tendency to get lost is in our genes. ~ "In sin my mother conceived me," is not a reference to the sexual act as such, but to the fact that the whole of humanity is in a state of at least partial alienation from God and can be reconciled only through Christ. Jesus entered the furthest reaches of this alienation when, as the vic-tim for our sins, he uttered his cry of dereliction on the cross. I saw in my moment of illumination that, once I had in 1957 told God he could have me as a victim for the salvation of souls (if he wanted me), I had implicitly consented to enter in some way into this dereliction of Jesus, and keep him company. At the same time, I was not certain God had accepted my offer, for no one had yet confirmed that I was indeed a victim, and I was not to have that assurance for several years yet. It was only then that everything fitted together coherently. But I did see in that moment of revelation that here was the meaning and purpose of the annihilating experience of my-self as spurned and rejected by God, even while at the same time, in my will, I refused to let go of him, and clung on with all my strength. Much later, I realized that even while God "rejected" me, he gave me that very grace I needed to cling tenaciously to him. At the same time, the illumination did not bring me any comforting reassurance, for I could not really believe it applied to me. This may seem a contradiction, but the grace of comfort is an extra grace, and for those years of torment God chose to withhold it from me, no matter what insights he gave my intellect. That I already had a well-established, deep-seated rejection syn-drome as part of my emotional makeup made it simpler and easier for all of this to happen. Grace had only to activate and utilize what was al-ready there, so deeply rooted in my inner being. I believe that God did this in order to use me for others as I had pleaded with him to do. In the terms I have since evolved for myself, I was "floating". in the negative way with Jesus on the cross, as part of "the Dali image." I was there tb help my neighbor, any neighbor--it was for God to choose whom, I never asked to be shown who, how, or where. "Enemies of God, we were reconciled to him through his Son's death; reconciled to him, we are surer than ever of finding salvation in his Son's life. And, what is more, we can boast of God's protection; al-ways through our Lord Jesus Christ, since it is through him that we have 666 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 attained our reconciliation"(Rm 5:10-1 I). "We who were taken up into Christ by baptism have been taken up, all of us, into his death . We have to be closely fitted into the pat-tern of his resurrection, as we have been into the pattern of his death" (Rm 6:3, 5). Sin and salvation, death and life, crucifixion and resurrection, Jesus and all of us--inseparable. It is all mingled together like the confluence of two mighty rivers flowing as one towards the ocean of eternity and infinity. We have to "share his sufferings if we are to share his glory" (Rm 8:17). Some refuse the suffering and do not believe in the glory. Proxies must, in their stead, agree to be immersed in the passion with Jesus, so that the glory will permeate them, too. He came to save all. His will to redeem the whole of humanity can-not and will not be thwarted, but we are all one with him, and so those who are willing must help him save those who are unwilling. He expects and requires this of his lovers, though not necessarily as explicit victims, for this must be a given vocation. "For thy sake, we face death at every moment, reckoned no better than sheep marked down for slaughter. Yet in all this we are conquer-ors, through him who has granted us his love" (Rm 8:36-37). In the "inscrutable judgments" and "undiscoverable ways" of God is hidden the mystery of the redemption of the human race, in which all participate, consciously or unconsciously. The willing "offer up their bodies as a living sacrifice" because "though we are many in number" (trillions and trillions of us back to the beginning and on to the end of time), we yet "form one body in Christ and each acts as the counter-part of the other" (see Rm 12). Paul insists we are "Christ's body, organs of it depending upon each other" (1 Co 12:27), and therefore "the sufferings of Christ overflow into our lives"--together with divine comfort (2 Co 1:5). For Paul, shar-ing in the sufferings of Christ in order to bring forth spiritual children for him, is a fundamental Christian vocation. He writes, "It makes me happy to suffer for you, as I am sufferi.ng now, and in my own body to do what I can to make up all that has still to be undergone by Christ for the sake of his body, the Church. I became the servant of the Church" (Col 1:24-25). All these teachings of St. Paul, marked in my Knox bible, had had dynamic personal meaning for me ever since 1956, the year of my re-ception into the Church. They had been fortified and elucidated by stud-ies of such theological works as The Whole Christ by E. Mersch, S.J. Negative Floating / 66"/ (Dobson, London, 1956). They were in the very fiber of my interior life, yet, though I knew, believed, and lived what Jesus exemplified and Paul taught and lived, no felt comfort and consolation resulted. I was given strength to endure (while experiencing myself as weak and destitute) and that was all. But to endure and to persevere is at the very basis of the nada path journey, and the grace given me to do this was among the supreme ones of my life. Father Basil had now become my director, though, as he had been transferred, we seldom had the chance to meet. What he wrote to me in a letter of July, 1963, is relevant to the above. I quote: God does love you very dearly. Think of the tremendous graces that you have received from him. Your desire to give him everything in return is all that matters. You give, generously, only to the One whom you love . I am not so much concerned about the aridity and difficulty that you are experiencing at your prayers and the seeming loss of God. What I am concerned about is your loss of peace and near panic, because of the difficulties. The temptation to discouragement is one of the most insidious and dangerous for an interior soul. If you are patient and do not allow this temptation to dictate any change in your program of the day, you have nothing to fear. In his own good time he will give you the light and the warmth that seem to have disappeared. There is noth-ing in your day that is not worthy of being offered to him. This means that you are every hour united more intimately with him. You are grow-ing in charity and all the virtues, without being conscious of the growth. The increase in charity is all that matters. His reassurance was a blessing, calming me until the next spasm of self-doubt and apparent rejection by God afflicted me. Then I would re-read what he said, and be comforted again. In a queer way it was as if God himself was telling me, "Don't worry. Everything's all right-- even though it seems to be all wrong." Again he was loving me through "a soul in which he had established himself," just as he had promised as I lay so ill and weak in the hospital. One or two entries in my journals record various aspects of my nega-tive floating at this time. In the following, I think my way through to a grace-enlightened conclusion in faith, hope, and trust. It was not given to me in~stantaneously as a crystal globe. I quote from a 1963 rare entry: It is the risen Lord who permeates the whole of creation. 1 have been experiencing the suffering Christ. The climax came in the crucifixion of my heart. Then entombment and silence. Only the dead Christ there, un- 668 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 stirring~ and myself numb and seemingly dead with him year after year, waiting and praying and longing for the resurrection. Now I see the the Lord is risen. He fills my soul and the whole of his Mystical Body. He has risen as he said he would, even while I mourned him dead in me, and I dead with him. He is risen. How can this become more real to me, so that I too rise with him? Let me think . It is the risen Lord who permeates the whole of creation. Therefore he is not dead in me~ for his resurrection truly hap-pened. But something did die in me and was entombed. What was it? The overwhelming sense of entombment. Christ dead and in the tomb. And it was a significant turning point. What died? My attachment to and need of natural love? But the process of purgation through hu-man relationships still continues. Yet it is different. How? What died and was buried? "You have undergone death, and your life is buried and hidden away with Christ." I made a heartbreaking renunciation of my own free will, and I gave up--what? What died? My heart died. Yet I found other loves. "Christ, having undergone death, cannot die any more . He is not here; he has risen as he told you . We have to be closely fitted into the pattern of his resurrection, as we have been into the pattern of his death . We'know that Christ, now he has risen from the dead, cannot die any more. Death has no more power over him . " It was not Christ who died in me, for he cannot die any more. It was something in myself that died. And all the while I have been entombed, he has been living in my soul the life of the risen Lord. His resurrection is continuous just as much as his passion is. Somehow I have to become united with this.risen Christ. Like La-zarus called forth from the tomb, I have to shed my grave clothes and answer the call of the Lord, but "how? How? I don't know how. He has to say, "Come forth," and then I shall be able to move. Yet he eternally says, "Come forth," inviting me to share his life of glory in the Trinity, the life he is already living in my soul all the time I am in a state of grace. Only somehow I cannot unite myself with it, because the tomb wall seems in the way. What is the tomb wall? My compulsion to suffer psychologically in a certain way? Perhaps. Lord, give me light. Holy Spirit, whom he sends, lead me forth. Pray in and for me. I have been in a state of inertia, feeling I could do nothing till Christ rose in me--but he has never been dead in me. It was a part of myself that died, not he. All the time he has been waiting for me to come to him. Perhaps he has already said, "Come forth," only I have been so busy with my self-inflicted mourning, that l haven't heard him. My anguish was the death of some form of self-love, the crucifix- Negative Floating / 669 ion of some kind of seif-will, some aspect of the "world" that I clung to. "The people that lived in darkness have seen a great light . And he shall reign forever and ever . Come and bring forth from the dungeon the prisoner sitting in darkness and the shadow of death . " The shadow of my death. Just one of the excruciatihg deaths one must die before one can mount to a higher level on the nada path. Death and renewal. Part of his passion, but the passion is always inseparable from the resurrection, and the resurrection is. I don't have to wait for it--it is. 1 am already in it by the power of g~:ace and the presence of God in my soul. How then do I.realize and live consciously this risen life? That is the question. The "how" was to remain unrealized by me for some years yet. In the meantime I had to live in pure faith the reality of the crucified, en-tombed, but already risen Lord in me and in the whole of creation. 1 had to stay on the cross and in the tomb till God himself chose the time and way for my personal resurrection. I could not raise up myself. It had to be a work of pure grace. The words I use in another brief entry near the end of 1964 all re-veal a state of unalleviated negative floating. They are: Emptiness. Noth-ing. Waiting. Search. No finding. Grief. No.comfort. Dryness. Frigid-i'ty. Impotence. Waiting. Alone. Loneliness. Wa, iting--on and on. Dead-ness. ~umbness. Insensibility. No tears . . . too dry . . . But I believe. I hope. I suffer. I love. I wait. He loves. 1 know he loves. I believe he loves. Amen. In her Life Teresa of Avila tells of a spiritual state that reminds me of what I call "negative floating." First she mentions how St. Paul wrote about "being crucified to the world." Then she comments on how this reminds her of the soul that is receiving comfort from neither heaven nor earth, nor from any other source either. She says that in such a/ state of suspension and denial the soul is "crucified between heaven and earth; and it suffers greatly, for no help comes to it either from the one or from the other." It is "sus-pended by (its) distress, just as in union and rapture (it is) suspended by joy . It is a martyrdom." She records that when she is not physically occupied so that her mind is on something else, she is "plunged into these death-like yearnings." The "pain is so excessive that (she) can scarcely bear it"; she feels as though she has "a rope around (her) neck, is being strangled, is trying 670 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 to breathe . . . and crying out for help to breathe." She longs and longs to be able to talk to someone "who has passed through the same torment, for she finds that, despite her complaints of it, no one seems to believe her." (See Life, Ch. XX.) It was not till my own darkest years were past that I came across the above and was forcibly struck by its similarity to what I myself had ex-perienced. When actually immersed in that suffering, I remember having read that one of the worst sufferings of Jesus on the cross must have been be-ing stifled by his inability to breathe. This was caused by the constric-tion of lungs, heart, and ribs in his hanging posture. To ease it he must have had to heave himself up repeatedly on his nailed feet--an extra ag-ony. I think Teresa is describing the spiritual equivalent of this condition for those in the negative floating state of union with Jesus hanging on the cross. John of the Cross, using different metaphors, writes of what I take to be a similar state. He says it is caused by "purgative contemplation" during which the inflowing of God's presence into the soul "in order to renew it" reaches down into its depths, into its very "spiritual substance." The soul seems to itself to be "drowned in darkness," to be "melting away" and to be enveloped by "a cruel spiritual death." Metaphorically it is like Jonah in the whale's belly. (In relation to this present article, it is worth recalling that Jonah's ordeal has been accepted as a scriptural symbol for Jesus' entombment.) John writes that "in this sepulcher of dark death (the soul) must needs abide until the spiritual resurrection which it hopes for." It is consumed by "the lamentations of death., the pains of hell ¯ . . the clear perception that God has abandoned it, in his abhorrence of it, and has flung it into darkness." It feels "itself to be without God, and chastised and cast out, and unworthy of him; and it feels he is wrathful With it." John also speaks of spiritual stifling and "afflictive suffering" that consists of the soul's feeling as though it "were suspended or held in the air so that it could not breathe." The state is intensified by the fact that the sufferer cannot find help or understanding from any human be-ing. He concludes by writing, "Of such are they that in truth go down alive into hell" (purgatory). (See Dark Night H, Ch. VI.) Negative Floating / 671 I do not know whether what I experienced during these years was the same as what is described by Teresa and John. I only know that when I read them now, as in the above passages, I feel I understand exactly what is being reported, because I myself have been through it. Shall it be N or N plus I lamN. I accepted that. I buried deep in my mind My mathematical knowledge Of what N could really be. Not satisfied with status quo But dreading the pain That moving might mean, I embraced N-fixed, safe and therefore undemanding. Memory would not be stifled. Knowledge that N can be expanded Would twist and turn and peek out Coming to the surface unexpectedly And at times unwanted. There is more. Why not N plus one? Expanding toward potential Could hurt, could be dearly bought. Surely, only here is progress, Expansion toward great goals. Why else do I exist? Except to know N is not complete Without Him as plus One. Sister Marjorie Sweeney, S.S.J. St. Joseph Convent 734 Willow Street Lebanon, PA 17042 Spiritual Dryness: Some Practical Guidelines Eamon Tobin Father Eamon Tobin, having completed the Master's degree in Formative Spiritual-ity at Duquesne University in Pittsburgh, is currently pastor of a parish in Cocoa Beach, Florida. His address is Church of Our Savior; 5301 North Atlantic Avenue; Cocoa Beach, Florida 32931. The Lord, your God, will circumcise your hearts., that you may love the Lord, your God, with all your heart and all your soul, and so may live (Dt 30:6). Blessed. is the person who can call the darkness holy, who can desire its purification, who can rest in its presence. Such a person will grow rapidly because the process of purification is facilitated by generosity (Source Unknown). [~'very praying person sooner or later experiences what is called dryness in prayer. In spiritual dryness we have no felt sense of God's presence. We may,even think we have lost our Beloved or feel abandoned by him. In the sch~)ol, of prayer, few things are more important to understand than the nature and role of spiritual dryness, I intend to deal with this impor-tant dimension of the spiritual life by responding to five important ques-tions that one can ask about prayer in the desert. Question 1: What is it that praying people experience during the desert periods of the spiritual"jou~rney? The actual desert experience of praying persons will vary depending on the level of faith and spiritual maturity. For example, for the beginner in prayer spiritual dryness fre-quently means not just the absence of a felt sense of the presence of God 672 Spiritual Dryness / 67'3 but also feelings of what Saint Ignatius calls desolation--that is, feel-ings of anxiousness, sadness, or lo.ss of peace flowing from the thought, "I have lost God," or "God has abandoned me." On the other hand, for the person who is more mature in faith and advanced in the ways of prayer, spiritual dryness may not be an experience of desolation. The ex-perience will be one which lacks a felt sense of God's presence but may be accompanied by the conviction: "Even though I can't feel his pres-ence (at least on the external level), I do believe he is close and active in my life. Even though I cannot feel his presence (that is, spiritual dry-ness), I don't feel anxious, sad, or abandoned (that is, desolation). In fact, I feel peaceful." ~ To believe that God is present and active despite his apparent absence can be considered one of the greatest blessings of the spiritual life. For most of us, particularly in the early years of prayer, spiritual dryness usually includes the experience of desolation ("I have lost God; God has abandoned me"). Usually it is a time of spiritual suf-fering. We think we are getting the "silent treatment" from God. We "call out to him all day long, but he never answers" (Ps 22:3).2 Spiri-tual dryness is like journeying in the desert with no water in sight. Prayer is no longer exciting; rather, it is a weary struggle. Spiritual exercises that once nourished us now are empty, and we have little or no desire .to do them. Another dimension of the desert experience may be a feeling of dis-couragement as we become keenly aware of our own sinfulness. (We may not yet know that one of the surest signs of growth in the interior life is a growing awareness of our own sinfulness.) We may begin to think we are regressing rather than progressing. We may begin to expe-rience one of the great paradoxes of the spiritual life: the closer we come to God the further it seems to us that we are away from him. As we get closer to the all-piercing Light of God, the more our own darkness will show itself. Our lives will appear to be hollow and mediocre. The Scot-tish priest, the late Father John Dalrymple, writes: "It is as if I were to bring the sleeve of my coat toward the window of the room, and as I move into the light, the dust and dandruff on the sleeve become more obvious. It is not that as I moved the coat got dirtier, but that the light got brighter.''3 All in all, the thing that scares us most and even hurts us is the thought, "I have lost my Beloved; he has abandoned me" (See Song of Songs, Chapter 3). This thought or feeling is the experience of desolation described above. To sum up, we can say that while the actual experience of the desert will be different for different people, for all of us it will mean a felt sense 6"/4 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 of the absence of God. And for those of us whose faith in God is still fragile, it will frequently involve the experience of desolation (the "I have lost God" feeling). In reading the above description of spiritual dryness, one may think that it is something only experienced by monks, religious, and the ex-ceptional lay person~ Yet spiritual directors tell us that this experience is quite .common in the lives of many average, prayerful people who dis-cover somewhere in the midst of their spiritual journeys that spiritual ex-ercises that once nourished them spiritually now do nothing for them. Question 2: Why is an understanding of this dimension of prayer so important? There are at least three reasons why some understanding of spiritual dryness is important. First, if we do not know the role of the times of dryness, we may think that we have "lost God" and that our prior, positive feelings in prayer were not a gift from God but the crea-tion of our own imaginations. This frequently happens. Many people who have a genuine conversion and get all excited about prayer quit when the well runs dry. This is sad because it is now that God wants to do his real work in such persons. Second, lack of knowledge about the purpose of spiritual dryness may cause us to continue praying in a way that, at this particular stage in our spiritual journey, may be more of an obstacle than a help to our spiritual growth. Many people are unaware that at some stage in the spiritual journey God calls us to become less active in prayer so that he can be more active in our spiritual transfor-mation. Third, the experience of spiritual dryness may be something caused by ourselves or something permitted by God. When it is permit-ted by God, it is meant to purify us and bring us closer to him. Such dry-ness is a gift to be accepted and embraced. When spiritual dryness is our doing, we need to work at removing the causes of such dryness. Lack of knowledge about the nature and role of spiritual dryness may lead us to believe that a particular experience of dryness in prayer is authentic and God-given when in fact it is something brought on by our own infi-delities. So the time of spiritual dryness is a critical time in the spiritual jour-ney. How we respond to it will determine whether we move forward spiri-tually or stagnate. Question 3: Why does God permit us to experience desert peri-ods in the spiritual journey? So I will allure her 1 will lead her into the desert and speak to her heart (Ho 2:16). Spiritual Dryness / 675 God permits us to experience spiritual desert periods in order to pu-rify us of those things that hinder our spiritual transformation and to teach us some important lessons about the spiritual life and how it works. In our answer to this question we will look at some specific purifications that God works in us and lessons that he teaches us in the desert. Purifications of the Desert In the desert God will want to purify us of any excessive attachment we may have to consolation in prayer. If in prayer God blesses us with a lot of consolations (or "spiritual highs" as we often say today), there is a danger that we may seek and love "the consolations of our God more than the God of our consolations" (Saint Teresa of Avila). In time of spiritual consolation it is easy to pray. The challenge is to remain faith-ful to prayer when we experience little or no felt sense of God's pres-ence or action in our lives. During such dry periods God is asking us to love him for himself and not just for the spiritual highs or consolations he offers us in prayer. He is asking us to show that we are not just fair-weather friends but all-weather friends. And he is teaching us the im-portant lesson that he is to be found more deeply in the desert than in the garden of superficial delights. Secondly, in the desert God purifies us of spiritual vanity. John Dal-rymple explains sp!ritual vanity in this way: Someone taking to religion in all zeal, becoming caught upI in a cam-paign of prayer, fasting, spiritual reading, liturgical practice, and retreat weekends might be indulging unawares in one big ego-trip. Conversion of the soul from a worldly life to a spiritual life is at first s, uperficial only. The convert has been given new, spiritual goals; but the conver~- sion is only external. In itself the sofil is as full as it ever was of unre-generate tendencies to vanity, arrogance, acquisitiveness, the only dif-ference being that after conversion these tendencies are now attached to spiritual instead of worldly objects . The zeal of such a person is infectious, but it is, as yet, chiefly the expression of the person's vanity or self-centeredness, dressed up in Christian clothes.4 For God to do his work of spiritual transformation in us, he must pu-rify us of such spiritual vanity. God often brings about this purification in us by bringing to naught our best efforts to change ourselves and eve-rything and everyone around us. As we sit on the ruins of our self-made temples and projects, we are purified of spiritual vanity and arrogance, and we learn the meaning of spiritual poverty, which is realizing our com-plete dependence and need for God to bring about any spiritual growth 676 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 in others or in ourselves. In the desert, God's intention is not to punish us but to purify us. In the journey of life we consciously or unconsciously become overly-attached to persons or things--so much so that they become idols (that is, more important to us than God). This happened to Israel after she lived in the Promised Land for some time. She became so enamored with the blessings of the land that she forgot the One who gave her the land. To purify her of this idolatry God led Israel into the desert for a second time where she would be free of all her attachments and free to listen anew to the Word of God (See Hosea, Chapter 2). Lessons to Be Learned in the Desert Now let us briefly look at some of the lessons that God wishes to teach us in the desert. When God takes away consolation in prayer (that is, the felt sense of his presence), he wants to teach us the important lesson that he can be encountered at a deeper level than our emotions. He wants to teach us that we are no longer dependent on emotional returns to know we have encountered him. As we grow in our relationship with God, the more we will "learn to be at home in the dark because we are sure, in faith, that the potter is truly shaping the clay, even though the clay sees nothing of what is happening."5 An example about eating food might help to illustrate this point more clearly. Sometimes we may immensely enjoy eating a delicious meal. We may savor every morsel of the food. All in all, it is a delightful ex-perience. On another occasion we may not enjoy at all another type of delicious meal. We may not be feeling well, or the food may not appeal to us. Yet from a nutritious point of view, both meals are equally good. Our lack of enjoyment of the second meal in no way diminishes its nu-tritious value. The same principle is at work when it comes to prayer. Sometimes when we pray we really feel and savor God's presence and love. At other times the prayer is empty and dull. Who are we, though, to say that the latter time is of no benefit to our spiritual growth or is less pleasing in God's sight? A second lesson God teaches us in the desert is that spiritual conso-lation is his p.ure gift to us and not something we can earn by being good or by praying :in a particular way. In prayer God teaches us this impor-tant lesson by "dropping in" on us when we least expect him and by "failing to show" when we very much want to experience his presence. A third lesson that God wishes to teach us in the desert is that spiri- Spiritual Dryness / 677 tual growth is totally dependent on his work in us and not on anything we do. Our task is simply to be flexible and cooperative with the move-ment of his Spirit. In the spiritual life, "working at it" often means "be-ing still," "just being there" and exercising discipline over our doing and achieving self which so often wants to run the show. This is a diffi-cult lesson for us because so much of our training for the outer journey of life has told us to be "take-charge" and self-sufficient persons. It is not easy for us to switch gears in the inner journey. In the spiritual life God is the Chief Actor; we are the acted-upon. Mary, at the Annunciation (Lk 1:26-38), is our perfect model. When God mysteriously breaks into Mary's life and invites her to become the mother of Jesus, she doesn't respond, "Sure, Lord, I'll do it!" Rather, she says, "I am your maidservant; work in and through me as you want." Mary's response was, "Fiat, be it done unto me," not, "I'11 do it." This attitude is one of active receptivity, and it is the secret of Christian spirituality and spiritual growth. Active receptivity is charac-terized by the effort to place our energy, will, and freedom at the dis-posal of God so that he can do with us and in us what he wills, Finally, when God our Father allows our prayer to run dry, he is in-viting us to participate in the cross of Jesus. In times of dryness we are experiencing the thirst of Jesus on the cross. If the cross was Jesus' way to the Father, then surely we, the disciples of Jesus, cannot expect to travel the scenic route free of all pain and hardship. When we experi-ence darkness in prayer or in the marketplace, we are being invited to identify with Jesus in his suffering, in his experience of feeling aban-doned by the Father. Also in the desert we are being invited and chal-lenged to trust that our God will not abandon us but will come to rescue us and redeem us (See Exodus, Chapter 16). Question 4: How can I tell when a particular desert experience is caused by my own infidelity or is something permitted by God to help me to grow in my relationship with him? When dryness occurs in prayer, particularly in the early stages when God is giving alternating periods of dryness and consolation, wemay tend to blame ourselves for dryness. We may wonder what latest infidelity we committed to bring about this dryness. The fact may be that we have done nothing wrong . to occasion the dryness. God may be allowing us to experience the dry-ness bechuse he wants to teach us some lesson and/or purify some as-pect of our relationship with him. On the other hand, we may think the dryness is from God when in fact it is caused by our own laxity and sin-fulness. Therefore, it is important that we be able to discern the true 6711 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 cause of the dryness because our response to it will differ, depending on whether the dryness is permitted by God or is something brought on by ourselves. Let us now identify several ways that we can bring about our own spiritual desert. ( 1 ) Indifference to a Sinful Pattern of Behavior: If we are indifferent to some sinful pattern of behavior in our lives, then we can expect diffi-culty in prayer. In a human friendship a negative pattern of behavior (for example, a critical or lying spirit), which we make no effort to ,change, will have a destructive effect on the whole relationship. Likewise, if in our relationship with God, we are deliberately ignoring a sinful pattern of behavior (for example, involvement in an illicit relationship, unfor-giveness, unethical business practices), then we can rightfully expect ten-sion in our relationship with God. When we do the above, we are delib-erately excluding the Lord and his influence from some area of our lives. In such a situation we should not be surprised that we do not feel God's presence very much in prayer. Here it is important to note that I am not referring to a sinful pattern of behavior that we are trying to change and that we are bringing before the Lord in prayer. In this case we are rec-ognizing sin and struggling with it. Instead of keeping us from God, our struggle with a particular sin or weakness may be the very means that God will use to allow us to experience his love, mercy and power. (See 2 Co 12:7-10 for Paul's famous example of how his thorn in the flesh became the very means of God's power.) In the former case, we are not even confronting our sin or seeking God's help with it. Instead we are deliberately ignoring its existence or trying to rationalize its O.K. 'hess. In the latter case, our sin grieves us and we are doing what we can to remove it from our lives. (2) Repressed Anger at God: Two highly-respected spiritual direc-tors, Fathers William Connoily and William Barry, write in a co-authored book: "When prayer flattens out, or appears tO be facing an iron wall, the director must always suspect the presence of unexpressed anger."6 To add to this problem, many of us were raised in a culture where appropriate expression of anger was socially unacceptable. "Hence resentments, holding a grudge or subdued rage, when they are present, are all likely to be given other names like indifference and ra-tional analysis."7 When someone hurts us, our relationship with that per-son will diminish, even if we decide to present an affable, friendly front; but in reality we will distance Ourselves emotionally from the person. In a similar way, if we become angry with God about something, we may Spiritual Dryness / 679 continue to be faithful to our prayer time, but on an emotional level we can be fairly sure we have distanced ourselves from him. (It is impor-tant for us to be aware that if life is handing us a raw deal, we may well be unconsciously blaming God, the Source of all things, for our lousy situation.) (3) Separation of Prayer and Life: The spiritual life is all of life and not just one segment of it. The Lord refuses to be a compartmentalized God; he wants to be a part and parcel of our whole life. When we try to keep God in church or in our prayer closet and not allow him to guide all the activities of our day, we can be sure that we are setting ourselves up for dryness in prayer. If we exclude God from the activities of our day, then we should not be surprised if he is missing from our prayer time. Even on a human level, no one likes to be a "tag-along" in some-one else's life. (4) Overwork: When our prayer life dries up, it is good for us to ask if we are pushing ourselves too much on the vital and functional dimen-sions of life. "Am I overworked? Am I over-tired? Am I coming down with the flu? Am I neglecting physical exercise? Do I have a tendency to make leisure time work? Or do I have leisure time--period?" These are important questions to ask. These things affect our prayer life. If we fail to care properly for our bodies, then we are neglecting a dimension of ourselves that we depend on to help us to pray. When we are very tired and overworked, prayer may well be seen as just another duty or thing to do. (5) Lack of Honesty in Prayer: Just as shallow or dishonest sharing dulls human relationships, it also dulls the Divine-human relationship. If our prayer is no more than "sweet talk" to "sweet Jesus," we should not expect Jesu~ to be too interested in our conversation. We must learn to talk to the Lord about the real stuff in our lives. (6) Halfhearted Efforts at Prayer: On a human level two friends may fail to really connect with each other because their conversations are "just words," words that fail to express what they are truly thinking and feeling. The problem may be that deep down they don't want to or are scared to encounter each other in a deep way. When a relationship is char-acterized by this type of communication, then we should expect it to be empty and unfulfiiling. In a similar vein, when our prayer time mainly consists of the rote recitation of certain prayers or of inattentive spiritual reading--if beneath the "saying of prayers" and the acts of piety there is no real desire to encounter God and grow in relationship with him-- then we should expect little or no satisfaction in prayer. In fact, our spiri- Review for Religious, September-October 1989 tual exercises may become a substitute for a real relationship with God. If we discern that we are the cause of our spiritual dryness, we should do all we can to remove the particular obstacle. For example, if the problem or obstacle is that we are holding onto a grudge and doing nothingto let it go, then we may need to pray for forgiveness for that person and/or we may need to have an open chat with the person with whom we are having a problem. If we discern that our experience of spiri-tual dryness is due to our tendency to separate prayer and life (see ob-stacle number three above), then our solution will be to work at allow-ing the Lord to walk with us in all the activities of our day. In short, when we discern that we are the cause of the spiritual dryness, then we ought to do something to remove the obstacle. It is the experience of most, if not all, disciples of the Lord that once they begin to struggle with an obstacle, prayer again becomes alive and they experience a new closeness to God. Finally, it should be noted that in trying to discern the cause of our spiritual dryness we would be well advised to seek the coun- ¯ sel of a good spiritual director. When we experience spiritual dryness most of us have a tendency to think that it is due to some infidelity on our part. The truth may be that God is permitting us to experience the desert so that he can continue his purifying work in us. This brings us to the second part of our response to Question 4: "How might we know that it is God and not us who is calling us into a spiritual desert?" While we can never be absolutely sure--since we live by faith and not by clear vision--when spiritual dryness is being per-mitted by God, we can say that the following are good indicators that the dryness is the purifying work of God: --If during the time of dryness we remain faithful to prayer. --If our prayer is honest and flowing from the real stuff of our lives. --If we are trying to integrate prayer and life. --If we are trying to live a life of charity; if our prayer is helping us to be more loving. --If we are genuinely trying to avoid sin and live our lives accord-ing to God's Word. --If we thirst for God as we walk in the desert. (It is crucial that we, remember that our desire for God is in itself a tangible sign of his pres-ence in our lives. We couldn't even desire God if he didn't place that desire in our hearts.) You will notice that the above signs are pretty much the opposite of the ways that we ourselves bring about our own spiritual desert. Prayer, like so many other things in life, is a series of "arrivals" Spiritual Dryness and "starting points." We arrive at a point where we feel good. We ex-perience the grace of consolation. But that only lasts a little while and then a certain discontent (a kind of desert) sets in--a discontent that may be caused by ourselves or permitted by God. Then we are faced with the challenge of discerning who is causing the discontent: "Is it God or me?" The purpose of the discontent caused by him is to create in us a longing for more, to create in us a desire to move closer to God. In the spiritual journey God brings us to a particular point or state; he lets us rest there and enjoy that plateau for a little while, and then he says, "O.K. Let's move ahead and seek for more" (see Ex 40:36-37). Of course, it is not easy to move when we are not sure where he is leading us. All he says is, "Move and trust that I'll take you to a new and bet-ter place." Finally, if we are in doubt about the cause ofour discontent or dry-ness, then we should talk to a spiritual guide or, if that is not possible, simply say a prayer like this: "Lord, if this dryness I am experiencing is due to some failing of mine, please reveal it to me. Until you do I am going to assume that I am not the cause of the dryness." Question 5: What are some resources available to us to sustain us in the desert? Four resources that will sustain us in the desert are: --a wise spiritual director; --a strong faith; --fidelity to prayer; --the support of fellow pilgrims. Our first help is a wise spiritual director. By wise I mean one who understands the role of the desert in the spiritual life and hopefully one who has experienced and grown through the desert in his or her own spiri-tual journey. Many people whom God led into the desert for purifica-tion have suffered much at the hands of well-intentioned but misinformed spiritual guides. Saint John of the Cross reserves some of his harshest words for such misinformed guides.8 For example, a misinformed guide may insist that a directee continue to meditate and do a lot of spiritual reading when God is calling her to the prayer of contemplation. In the desert a good spiritual director will be a source of guidance, encourage-ment and inspiration. When we are in a spiritual desert, it is important that we learn to place our trust in a good spiritual director. But, as most of us know, wise spiritual directors are nearly as scarce as palm trees in the northern states of America. The truth is that the road to authenticity is dangerous, hard, and narrow, and few decide to travel it. In the ab-sence of a wise spiritual director (and there is really no substitute for such Review for Religious, .September-October 1989 a person), one may receive some guidance from books that are written or recommended by people who are recognized guides of the inner jour-ney. A second important resource is a strong faith--a faith that enables US" --to believe that God knows what he is doing when he allows us to ex-perience the desert (Rm 11:33-36); --to believe that in the desert God is not punishing us but is purifying us (Dt 30:6); --to believe that God grows his best flowers (virtues) in the desert (Ho 2); --to believe that God works in us while we rest in him (Mk 4:26-29); --to believe that in the struggles of life God is on our side fighting our battles (Ex 14:13-14 and Dt 1:30-33); --to believe that in the desert God's seeming absence is just a different type of presence, one that we may not as yet have recognized (Ex 16); --to be secure with insecurity (Rm 8:28); --above all, to generously abandon ourselves to the purifying work of God (Lk 23:46). A third important resource as we struggle in the desert is fidelity to prayer. In the desert, prayer is usually dry and therefore all the more dif-ficult to remain faithful to. When it comes to praying in the desert, spiri-tual guides counsel us to avoid two extremes or temptations. The first temptation is to quit prayer, thinking that our best efforts are leading us nowhere. The second temptation is to "junk up" our prayer time with extra prayers, rosaries, Scripture reading, and so forth, thinking that if we only try harder maybe we will feel the presence of God. This second temptation needs to be resisted not only because it blocks what God is about in the desert but also because it is (usually unconsciously) our at-tempt to stay in or get back into the driver's seat. In general, prayer in the desert will become much less active, more passive--less us, more God. The challenge will be to learn to sit quietly in the presence of God, trusting that he is at work in us while we rest in him. Le~.rning to "waste time doi.ng nothing" in prayer is, without a doubt, one of the most difficult lessons we have to learn in the school of prayer. Unfortunately, most of us never learn to waste time gracefully in the presence of God. Such a practice goes completely against our west-ern, work-ethic nature that is usually driven to do, to achieve, and to pro-duce-- that likes to see tangible results for its efforts. Because of this need in us, most of us fill the vacuum that we feel in the desert with read- Spiritual Dryness ing or prayers of some sort. For those of us who are willing to try and do less (that is, to be less active) in prayer so that God may do more in us, the following suggestions might be helpful. -Spend some time just "being there" with the Lord, aware that as "we rest in him he is at work in us." We put aside all effort to achieve because now we are learning that achievement (growth) is God's work. By periodically spending some time "doing nothing" in the presence of the Lord, we are expressing our faith in an important spiritual dictum: "God's activity in prayer is more important than my activity." -Spend some time slowly repeating prayers like: "Incline my heart to your will, O Lord." "Make me want you, O Lord, more than anyone/ thing in my life." -Take a phrase of Scripture like "You are my beloved Son" and dwell on it. -Simply take one word like "Jesus" or "love" and repeat it gent-ly and slowly, letting God work in us, leading us beyond conceptual thoughts, images, or feelings to wordless depths. -Image and be present to Mary in the Temple after she lost Jesus (Lk 2:41-50) and at the foot of the cross (Jn 19:25-27) which must have been a real dark night of the spirit for her. Ask Mary to intercede for you so that you may have something of the faith which she had when she thought she had lost Jesus. -Finally, you may want to read something on spiritual dryness. By simply reading and rereading portions of a book like When the Well Runs Dry, I am encouraged to persevere in the desert. Personally, I need to hear over and over again the teaching and encouragement that a book like Father Green's offers. In prayer our role is to be faithful in coming aside, to be at God's disposal. What actually happens in prayer is God's business. For me this piece of wisdom has always been very consoling. It helped to free me from thinking that it was up to me to make things happen in prayer. Now I am more relaxed, knowing that my role is to be faithful in coming aside, to do what I can to eliminate distractions from within and with-out, and to pray as I feel led. ("Pray as you can, not as you can't.") The rest is in God's hands. If he chooses to bless me with a deep sense of his presence, I am indeed very grateful. If he chooses to bless me with his seeming absence (God is always only seemingly absent), then I try to be grateful for that, also believing that God knows what will best help me to grow. "Our prayer is good when our hearts are fixed on God, even if it is filled with boring aridity or passionate turmoil.' ,9 Review for Religious, September-October 1989 A fourth resource in the desert is the prayer and personal support of fellow pilgrims. While each person's inner journey is very personal and unique, still we can learn much from the journeys of co-pilgrims. Only the foolish try to travel the inner jou~rney alone. In the desert we are all beggars sharing morsels of bread with each other. Also, if we are blessed enough to be a part of a small, faith---sharing group, then we have avail-able to us an excellent resourc_~e for the dry times. In the dry times the prayers of'fellow pilgrims are usually a big help. I wbuld like to conclude our discussion on spiritual dryness with a prayer that I have found to be a source of great encouragement during times of spiritual desolation. Dear Lord, in the midst of much inner turmoil and restlessness, there is a consoling thought: maybe you are working in me in a way I cannot yet feel, experience, or understand. My mind is not able to concentrate on you, my heart is not able to remain centered, and it seems as if you are absent and have left me alone. But in faith I cling to you. I believe that your Spirit reaches deeper and further than my mind or heart, and that profound movements are not the first to be noticed. Therefore, Lord, I promise I will not run away, not give up, not stop praying, even when it all seems useless, pointless, and a waste of time and effort. I want to let you know that I love you even though | do not feel loved by you, and that I hope in you even though I often experi-ence despair. Let this be a little dying I can do with you and for you as a way of experiencing some solidarity with the millions in this world who suffer far more than I do. Amen.~° NOTES ~ See Thomas H. Green, S. J., Weeds Among the Wheat (Notre Dame, Indiana, 1984), Chapters 6 and 7. Also see Thomas H. Green, S.J., When the Well Runs Dry (Notre Dame, Indiana, 1979), p. 92. 2 Some other Psalms that reflect darkness in the prayer of the psalmist are Psalms 60, 69, 74, and 88. 3 Father John Dalrymple, Simple Prayer (Wilmington, Delaware, 1984), p. 69. '~ lbid, p. 93. 5 Thomas H. Green, S.J., When the Well Runs Dry (Notre Dame, Indiana, 1979), p. 119. 6 Fathers William Barry. and William Connolly, The Practice of Spiritual Direction (New York, 1982), p. 73. 7 Ibid. 8 Saint John of the Cross, The Collected Works of John of the Cross, translated by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. and Otilio Rodriguez, O.C.D. (Washington, D.C., 1979), pp. 620-634. 9 Father John Dalrymple, Simple Prayer, (Wilmington, Delaware, 1984), p. 66. ~0 Henri J. M. Nouwen, A Cry for Mercy: Prayers from the Genesee (Garden City, New York, 1983), p. 102. That God Might Be Father .Laurel M. O'Neal Sister Laurel O'Neal, a solitary (hermit), is familiar to our readers. Her address is Stillsong Hermitage; 80 Lafayette Circle; Lafayette, California 94549. Perhaps the only question more problematic than that of the possibility of prayer is the question of its, genuine significance and necessity. Sur-prisingly, however, this is also a question we generally fail to consider explicitly or face squarely. More typically, the meaningfulness and re-quisiteness of our prayer are matters we tend to take for granted, even though the notion of prayer may lie at the heart of important or even fun-damental expressi6ns of self-understanding and definition. But the ques-tion is an important one, and one we cannot easily afford to avoid or care-lessly dismiss, if we intend to take prayer seriously or maintain a proper sense of its place and role in our daily lives. After all, why really are we called to pray? What, if anything, is truly and uniquely at stake in our prayer? Is there any reason to regard our own personal prayer as a matter of compelling urgency and real ne-cessity, or is the matter really more nugatory? Clearly, as Christians we are called to believe that our prayer is a meaningful, even indispensable activity, vital to the transformation and healing of all we know, and the realization of all we are made and hope for. But how do we justify such a belief? What is it about prayer that makes such claims credible? The answers to all of these questions are based in our recognition that in prayer something deeper and even more fundamental is at stake, some-thing in which all healing and human growth in wisdom and sanctity are rooted, and upon which all our hope depends. Like Christianity in general, and like God himself, prayer is pro-foundly paradoxical, and this is particularly true of the question at hand. 685 Review for Religious, September-October 1989 Although we must acknowledge that prayer is the gift and activity of God attended to by sinners (that is, by persons whose lives are fundamentally marked and marred by fragmentation and alienation), we must also af-firm that the deeper truth is the paradox that prayer is primarily some-thing we undertake on God's own behalf, insofar as prayer is the experi-ence of God as the One he wishes to be for us. Quite simply, what is truly and uniquely at stake in our prayer, at each and every moment we pray, is nothing less than the life and destiny of God himself. As Chris-tians, as persons who pray--that is, as persons who share as heirs of God in the obedient Sonship of Jesus Christ, we do so primarily that God might truly be the Father he has willed to be from the beginning. This insight is easy to lose sight of, something that occurs particu-larly whenever God's paradoxical nature is obscured or forgotten, and an immutable or even (as commonly misunderstood) "triune" God is substituted for a Living One. Most of us are well aware that on the one hand, our God is the "High and Holy One," the one who reveals him-self in sovereignty and self-sufficiency. Indeed he is Yahweh, "the one who will be who (he) will be," ~ in absolute authority and awesome auton-omy. But this dominant Old Testament image is just one side of the para-dox whom we Christians know as God; and if on the one hand he is the High and Holy One who is absolutely self-sufficient, he is also the one who has determined not to remain so, but rather has resolved to make his own destiny subject to the responsiveness of his creation. Our God is on the one hand without beginning or end, absolutely self-sufficient, in need of no one and no thing. Yet on the other hand he has willed from all eternity not to remain alone but to turn to another--a person who will be his counterpart. He is the eternal decision to speak to this other and to hearken to the word which this other speaks. He is the eternal deci-sion to love this other and to accept this other's love. [The God of the New Testament] who is eternally self-sufficient wills not to be; God who is eternally of and for himself wills to be for another.2 This means quite simply that God has determined to be for us as well as dependent upon us. We must allow this determination to be realized, and let God be who he wills to be for us. This is indeed the most human thing we can do, just as it is the most loving. Those who truly appreci-ate that our own destiny is dependent upon the proper exercise of human freedom should not be surprised that God too is dependent upon it. In fact, we should be aware that the Christ event reveals that it is human freedom which is the true counterpart to divine omnipotence. For many, this will be an astounding assertion. However, if we reflect on precisely That God Might Be Father / 687 what occurred in the Christ event, perhaps this critical point will become more acceptable to most people. Certainly such reflection is necessary if we are to truly appreciate the importance and urgency of our prayer. It is true that in the Christ event--in the life, death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus--God drew near to every moment and mood of his creation. This is truth but the truth cuts far more deeply than even this awesome reality. In the Christ event something absolutely s'ingular and unsurpassable occurred. For the first time in human history someone, in this case Jesus of Nazareth, in living a life wholly responsive to the God who would be Father, accomplished two things. In the first place, he lived the first genuinely human existence ever known in the history of humankind, and secondly, in his proper exercise of true human freedom he allowed God to become the Father he had willed to be from the be-ginhing. In the dialogue which existed between Father and Son, both hu-man and divine life reached a fullness for which they had yearned and groaned through time and eternity, the realization of human and divine destinies were forever linked, and divine omnipotence and human free-dom were inextricably wed as counterparts of one another. Nor is this all. In Jesus' resurrection from the dead, this abundant life was made a continuing and unconquerable reality in our world. It is in prayer that we enter most deeply into participation into this abundant life, and in prayer that Jesus' Sonship becomes our own and the Fatherhood of God is further realize~t. Through our participation in the Sonship of Jesus, we come to know genuine human life, and we become aware that it is a life characterized and constituted by an ongoing and all-consuming dialogue with the Fa-ther, who is in turn constituted as Father in this dialogue. In the Christ event Jesus responded to God as Son. He allowed God to be the author of his life, and he allowed God to be authored as Father in the process. Truly human existence is nothing less and nothing other than daughter-ship or sonship to the Living God whose own inner truth and dynamism is realized in Fatherhood. Prayer is simply and always the mutual out-working of these inextricably linked divine and human destinies. God is Father neither before, nor apart from, the response of Jesus as Son; neither is he our Father apart from our participation in that de-finitive Sonship which we call prayer. (Note well, in all of this it is im-portant that, according to the prologue to John's gospel, we are very clear that it is not the Logos that is Son; rather it is Jesus as Son in whom the Logos is incarnate. The two realities are quite different, and are often tragically confused. As the term is commonly but perhaps naively used, Review for Religious, September-October 1989 the Logos is "preexistent"; the Son is not, and whenever this confu-sion occurs, it becomes impossible to appreciate the true significance of the obedient Sonship of Jesus or of our own prayer.) Although he is the one "who will be who (he) will be," the God of the New Testament turns to the world as the one who would be Father, that is, as one who would find his counterpart and true completion in those who would turn in response as daughters and sons (that is, as those who are of him and from him) and, as one whose deepest identity would remain unrealized and unrealizable apart from this response. What are the implications of all this for our prayer? In the first place, we must concede that our prayer has real meaning and urgency, not only and not even primarily because we are saved through God's activity in our lives, but because in our prayer we concern ourselves with the very life of God. Whether or not prayer is a profound experience for Is, it is a significant experience for God since it is in prayer that he is allowed to achieve Fatherhood and truly realize himself. Whatever we perceive happening or not happening in our prayer, we must not lose sight of the fact of what does occur there. In prayer God is given the chance to love fully, and thus to fully be. It is not simply the'case that God is love; it is also true that in loving, God is (and it is this fact which allows us to speak of prayer in terms of the glorification or magnification of God). Prayer is possible only to the extent that our God has willed not to remain remote, that is, only to the extent that he has drawn near. But prayer is meaningful and necessary for the most part because the God who has refused to remain remote has also willed not to remain self-sufficient and has, in a very real way put his own destinyinto the hand of those to whom he would be Father, and whom he has thus willed re-spond to him as daughters and sons. Without our prayer, God remains the High and Holy One who has drawn near to us in all of life's moments and moods, but who remains deprived of real presence, and thus whose deepest will and identity remains unrealized and frustrated in our regard. It is particularly telling that the first word and entire Lord's Prayer is contained in the invocation "Father." Jesus' whole life and prayer, which were essentially synonymous, were devoted to allowing God's will to Fatherhood to be accomplished. Claiming this realization of the Fatherhood of God is the heart of all prayer. Allowing him to love us in the way he wills is the heart of all truly human activity. It is impor-tant that our prayer remain the God-centered activity it is meant to be. This is the reason Jesus gave his life and his way of praying as a "para-digm of perspective," and in fact, in what is most essentially and pro- That God Might Be Father 689 foundly the lesson of the New Testament, taught his followers to pray. We lose proper perspective if we forget that God has drawn near, but it is at least as tragic to forget that prayer is the way nearness is transformed into real presence. We said in an earlier essay3 that prayer begins, ends, and is sustained by our concern for and commitment to the life of God. Let us remember why we are present to him and what our appreciation of his nearness means for him, and may this knowledge sustain us in even the driest of moments. NOTES t The usual translation of "Yahweh" in Exodus 3:14 as "I am who am," or even the more cryptic "'I am" is inadequate insofar as it disregards the dynamic element, and promise of active and effective presence also contained in the Hebrew (see Ex 3:12). A better translation is "I will be who I will be". 2 Dwyer, John C., Son of Man attd Son of God, A New Language For Faith, (New York: Paulist Press, 1983). 3 O'Neal, Laurel M., "Prayer, Maintaining a Human Experience": R~.vl~.w R~.~.~¢~ous; Nov/Dec 1987, p. 883. Musing Fragile as a crisp autumn leaf, Hard as flint on flint, Soft as nestling down, Resilient as blue tempered steel-- You and I--this planet ours-- Cradled in God's tender arms Of Grace. Walter Bunofsky, S.V.D. 1446 E. Warne Avenue St. Louis, Missouri 63107 Mary of Bethany-- The Silent Contemplative Carlos M. de Melo, S.J. Father Carlos de Melo, S.J. is professor emeritus of Canon Law and Spiritual The-ology at the Pontfical Athenaeum of Pune, India. His address is Papal Seminary; Nagar Road; Ramwadi; Pune 411 014 India. Teresa of Avila, that incomparable mistress of the spiritual life--"Mater spiritualium" as she is called in the inscription at the foot of her statue at St. Peter's, Rome--was never tired of repeating to her daughters of the Reformed Carmel that prayer is not so much a matter of much think-ing as of loving much.~ The soul of prayer is faith and love. Going through the gospels ! found this basic truth or principle beautifully illus-trated in the attitudes of Mary, the sister of Martha and Lazarus, vis-~t-vis our Lord. Bethany is a small hamlet about three kilometers southeast of Jerusa-lem, separated from the capital by the Mount of Olives. Mary of Bethany appears in five places in the gospel narratives: I) Luke 10:38-42; 2) John 11 : 1-53; 3) John ! 2: i - l l ; 4) Mark 14:3-9; and 5) Matthew 26:6-13. The last three references cover one and the same episode, that of the supper at Bethany, in the house of Simon, the "leper." True, the material is not over abundant, yet it is sufficient enough to give us a fair idea of the personality, the mind and heart, the ways and attitudes, the character of this well-known biblical figure. However, I wish to bring out in this es-say one particular trait that distinguishes her, and that is her contempla-tive attitude of life, as it comes across to us in a striking manner in two of those passages--Luke i0 and Matthew 26 (see Jn 12; Mk 14). Symbol of Contemplative . Indeed, in these passages, Mary stands out before us as a symbol and 690 Mary of Bethany / 69"1 teacher of the contemplative life particularly inspiring and helpful to per-sons "consecrated to God," whether they live in convents and monas-teries or elsewhere in the world. She thus becomes our guide, silent yet sure, to a simple, intimate relationship with our divine Master, such as will not only bring us true fulfillment but can even radically transform our life. For, as the saying goes, tell me with whom you walk and I shall tell you what sort of a person you are. When did Mary first meet Jesus? In Luke 10 the new Rabbi figures as an already familiar guest in the house of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus, one whom they all highly esteemed, loved and revered, a dear friend whose visits were eagerly looked forward to and whom they welcomed with undisguised joy and profound satisfaction, as though they could never have enough of him. From him they held no secrets; they could share with him their every thought or sentiment, every joy or sorrow, and in him they were always sure to meet, in any life situation, under-standing, sympathy, guidance. First Meeting Decisive True, the gospels do not tell us when it was that Mary first met Je-sus. One thing, however, seems to be certain. Whatever might have been the time, place or occasion, that first meeiing was decisive in Mary's life; it made a lasting and ineffaceable impression on her youthful, sensitive nature. It reminds us of another such decisive encounter narrated in an-other gospel--that of the Master with the beloved disciple (Jn 1:35-39)-- one of those unforgettable events that make an impact for good and give a new turn to life. Like that of John, Mary's life, too, was deeply touched by her meeting with Jesus, for, from then on, that mysterious guest became as it were everything for her, the center of her thoughts, sentiments, deeds. It was as though interiorly taught from on high, Mary sensed in Jesus of Nazareth not only a new rabbi, or a great religious leader who taught as one having authority (Mt 7:29), who spoke as no man ever did (Jn 7:4-6), or even a worthy prophet like Moses, Isaias or Jeremias of old, but--in a way she herself was not able fully to under-stand or explain--the very incarnation of the Father of Israel, of Yah-weh himself, and at the same time, her own personal friend and guide-- her 'guruji' we might say, with all this term, and the reality it represents, means in Indian life and tradition. This explains Mary's unconditional surrender to him, her loving contemplation of him, her total openness and docility to his word, her silent "adoration"--attitudes proper to a creature before its God, its divine Lover. 692 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 Lovable Character Mary is a lovable character--lovable because she is so

Issue 46.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1987. ; R~.\'~l~w ~oR R~.~;iotJs ( ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration wflh faculty members of St. Louis University's Department of Theological Studies. The editorial offices are located at 3601 Lindell Blvd., Room 428; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. R~.:w~.w FOR R~,~;Iou.~ is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO © 1987 by R~-:vw:w ~.'OR R~-:~.~t;n)tJs. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription: U.S.A. $11.00 a year; $20.00 for two years. Other countries: add $4.00 per year(surface mail). Airmail(Book Rate): $18.00 per 3'ear. For subscription orders or change of address, write: R~:\'~r:\v ~'t)a REl.~;IOtlS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F.X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.SoN.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor Jan./ Feb., 1987 Volume 46 Number I Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to Rl.:VlEW FOR R~:l,lc.mt;s: 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 REv~:w you R~:~,w.~ot~s: Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Review for Religious Volume 46, 1987 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Daniel F.X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is published in January, March, May, July, September, and November on the twentieth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic' Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Microfilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright © 1987 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. A major portion of each issue of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is also regularly 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. Christ: the Heart and Soul of Vocation John R. Quinn On October 4, Feast of St. Francis of Assisi, Archbishop Quinn addressed the fol-lowing homily in the course of a Eucharist celebrated for religious of San Francisco. It provides a fitting celebration of the conclusion of his commission's work. Archbishop Quinn may be addressed at: Office of the Archbishop; 445 Church Street; San Francisco, California 94114-1799. One week from today I will arrive in Rome. A few days later I will present to the Holy Father the final report of the Pontifical Commission on religious life in the United States. One of the tasks assigned to the Pontifical Commission was to under-take a study of the reasons why young people do not enter religious life in greater numbers. It was a long and exacting study involving a large number of priests, religious and lay people. Clearly, it is excessive to believe that any one single cause can explain the phenomenon of the decline in vocations. Just as obvious is the fact that there are causes internal to the life of the Church as well as causes which touch all of human society. Yet there is one striking factor in the decline of vocations which emerged in our study and it seems to me very fitting to touch on it in the context of this Feast of St. Francis. One of the first things that comes to mind when we think of St. Francis is poverty. Poverty was to be one of the hallmarks of his sanctity. But what was the meaning of that poverty for Francis? Was it a protest against the excesses of the rich? A statement about social justice? A wit-ness of solidarity with the oppressed? There may have been some of these factors, of course. But the overwhelming and consuming reason for the poverty of 3 4/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 Francis was his love for Christ Jesus our Lord. His poverty was a power-ful witness that those things I used to consider gain I have now reappraised as loss in the light of Christ. I have come to rate all as loss in the light of the surpassing knowledge of my Lord Jesus Christ. For his sake, I have for-feited everything; I have accounted all else rubbish so that Christ may be my wealth and I may be in him . I wish to know Christ and the power flowing from his resurrection; likewise to know how to share in his sufferings by being formed into the pattern of his death" (Ph 3:7- 10). For Francis, poverty was his witness to the centrality and Lordship of Christ. In our study of the decline in vocations, we did not hear much about poverty. But we did learn that if we want to attract vocations, the reli-gious dimension of our lives must be unambiguous, and that religious must be more willing to share that dimension than they have been. It is not that American religious are not contemplative and spiritual men and women. They are, and our study shows that they are increas-ingly so. Yet Americans are somewhat inclined to regard religion as a private, interior affair not to be discussed. And this is the weakness. The rich treasure of our relationship with Christ and his meaning for us has to come out more. The story needs telling. But how can we tell the story of a relationship we do not have? And so the contemplative dimension of our lives is the foundation of every-thing else. It is the contemplative dimension that makes it possible for the religious to say to Christ what the lover said in Christopher Fry's play: "Everything I loved before has come to one meeting place in you. And you have gone out into everything I love." So deep was this reality in Francis that he spent whole nights repeat-ing the simple prayer,,,"My God and my all!" When we look at the per-vasive contemplative dimension of Francis' life, it is significant to recall that there are few saints who have had a more universal impact in all cul-tures, an impact that is strong and enduring even today. We need not fear that the contemplative dimension of our lives will reduce the effectiveness of our witness for justice or our service to the world. It will only enhance it. Think of the human service given by Francis himself, but think of the tremendous inspiration he has been for justice and peace through seven centuries. That inspiration cannot be sep-arated from his holiness, and his holiness is rooted in his union with Christ. The path of discipleship is perfectly articulated in a few brief words: Christ: The Heart and Soul "Those whom he foreknew he predestined to share the image of his Son" (Rm 8:29). Francis showed that one and only path of discipleship when he grew into the mystery of the Cross. Fittingly the Church brings to mind on his feast the words, "May I never boast of anything but the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ" (Ga 6:14). Without the Cross it is impossible to "share the image of his Son" who freely chose the Cross for himself as a witness of love and obedi-ence, as a witness of poverty and humility. Without the Cross there is no discipleship. But we should not forget that without the Cross there is no vision, no understanding. The Cross is the key to understanding the Church and human history. How can one learn the difficult grammar of the Cross without years of persevering and serious prayer? Thoreau, when asked why he was living in the wilderness, answered: "I do not want to come to my death and dis-cover that I have never lived." At death we will discover we have never lived the Christian life unless we have learned through the contemplative dimension to love and understand the mystery of the Cross. But what is this Cross for us? It is not wood. It is persons, places, circumstances, situations. Just as for the Lord, so for us, the Cross is what is absurd, ridiculous, frustrating, the unexplainable. The Cross is when we are powerless: no matter what we do, it makes no difference. The Cross is pain, it is loneliness, it is lack of support. It is confusion, uncertainty. But the Cross is also death -- it is letting go. It is surrendering every-thing into the Father's hands, and knowing that he will be glorified in us and in Christ Jesus. This mystery of the Cross we suffer both in the Church and in the world. We suffer before the tensions and divisions in the Church. We suffer before the massive and overwhelming injustices in the world. But in the midst of the Church and in the midst of that world, reli-gious are called to be the bearers of hope because they have lived and understood the Mystery of the Cross, and have personally discovered that the message of the Cross is complete absurdity to those who are headed for ruin, but to us who are experiencing salvation it is the power of God . Yes, Jews demand "signs" and Greeks look for "wisdom," but we preach Christ crucified. Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God (I Co 1:18; 22-25). It is the serious, prayerful contemplation of the Mystery of the Cross that yields the kind of love which is "patient; love [which] is kind., love [which] is never rude, [which] is not self-seeking, [which] is not prone to anger" (1 Co 13). It is this contemplative dimension which makes it Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 possible to say that "there is no limit to love's forbearance, to its trust, its hope, its power to endure" (ibid). And so it is this contemplative dimension that imparts the vision of the Church described by Gregory the Great some thirteen centuries ago: Because the daybreak or dawn changes gradually from darkness into light, the Church. is fittingly called daybreak or dawn. While she is being led from the night of infidelity to the light of faith, she is opened gradually to the splendor of heavenly brightness, just as dawn yields to the day after darkness. The Song of Songs says aptly: "Who is she who moves forward like the advancing dawn?" Holy Church, inasmuch as she keeps searching for the rewards of eternal life, has been called the dawn . The dawn intimates that the night is over; it does not yet pro-claim the full light of day . While it dispels the darkness and wel-comes the light, it holds both of them, the one mixed with th6 other. Are not all of us who follow the truth in this life daybreak and dawn? While we dp some things which already belong to the light, we are not free from the remnants of darkness. And so to Christ Jesus, crucified in weakness but risen in power, be glory in us and in the Church now and forever. Amen. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions I and I! 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 "1 Have Called You Friends": The Priest Today John Paul H On July 5, 1986, Pope John Paul ordained ninety-two men to the priesthood in Medellin, Colombia. In the eucharistic celebration, the theme of which was "Fidelity to the Priestly Vocation," the Pope offered the following reflections. This article is based on the text which appeared in L'Osservatore Romano (18 August, 1986, pp. 4-5). Beloved brothers in the priesthood of Christ: "No longer do I call you servants., but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you" (Jn 15:15). During the celebration of the Last Supper Jesus addressed these words to the apostles as he instituted the sacrament of his body and blood and charged them: "Do this in memory of me" (Lk 22:19). These words are linked in a most particular way with the priestly voca-tion. Christ makes the apostles priests, entrusting into their hands the sacrament of his body and blood. That body which will be offered upon the cross, that blood which will be shed (now under the species of bread and wine), constitute the memorial of the sacrifice of the Cross of Christ. In the Upper Room, Jesus calls his apostles friends because he has given them his body and blood. From that moment on, sacramentally real-izing this sacrifice, they were to work in his name, representing him per-sonally, in persona Christi. In this consists the essential greatness of the ministerial priesthood -- in which, today, you, sons of the Church of Colombia, of the Church of Medellin, will be made participants through the Sacrament of Orders. It is a very important day in your lives and in the life of this Church which, on this occasion, I wish to greet cordially. 7 Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 I affectionately greet the Christian people that has assembled this evening. The Christian nobility of your families -- nurseries for priestly and religious vocations -- and their deep adherence to the Church have been the characteristics of this beloved region of Colombia. The Priest's Vocation Is God's Initiative Today's liturgy indicates to us in a particularly profound way the truth about the priestly vocation. A vocation is first of all an initiative of God himself. God continuously calls individuals to the priesthood, just as in the past he called the prophets. How striking is the description of that call given by Jeremiah: "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you" (Jr 1:5). The "knowledge" of God signifies election, the call to partici-pate in the fulfillment of his salvific plan. In the light of the Mystery of the Incarnation, this choice is closely linked with Christ as Priest: "[God] chose us in him even before the foundation of the world" (Ep 1:4). "Before you were born I consecrated you" (Jr 1:5). Consecration to God is full and total dedication for one's whole life to a charge or mission, under the action of the Spirit of the Lord who anoints and sends (Is 61 : 1). Through Holy Orders the priest participates in the anointing and mission of Christ the Priest and Good Shepherd: "He has anointed me to preach good news to the poor"(Lk 4:18). For Eternity From this it follows that the mission of the priesthood carries the seal of eternity. You are consecrated forever. It is not a decision that is sub-ject to the fluctuations of time or the vicissitudes of life. It cannot be founded upon transient sentiments or feelings. It involves, as authentic love, permanence in fidelity. You are called to remain always with the Lord, tO perpetuate friendship with him day after day, in order to model yourselves after his heart. Only in the light of this love can the evangel-ical requirements that the priestly ministry involves be understood and lived. You must put your youth fully and without reserve at the service of Christ in order to become instrumenis of salvation without frontiers. "Be not afraid of them" (Jr 1:8), we are told in the first reading from the prophet Jeremiah. There is no room for doubt and discouragement. "For I am with you" (Jr 1:8), the prophet repeats to us. Human weak-ness is not an obstacle when we know how to recognize it and place it faithfully and confidently in the hands of God. The Risen Christ empha-sizes this presence: "It is I" (Mt 28:20). Thus is it possible to carry out the mission of the Lord: "to all to whom I send you, you shall go" (Jr 1:7). I Have Called You Friends "Behold I have put my words in your mouth" (Jr 1:9). These are "words of eternal life" (Jn 6:68) which sustain the generosity of the one sent and assure the fruit of the apostolate, even if through the Mystery of the Cross. Is it legitimate to fear the word and the call of God? No! One may fear human weakness, but God's call -- never. In fact, it always indicates a marvelous path: it calls one to a particular participation in the "great things of God." It is thus wise to listen attentively to the words of the Apostle in the letter to the Ephesians: "I, therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all lowliness and meekness, with patience" (Ep 4:1-2). Biblical Poverty Beloved sons, consider as well that the journey towards priestly holi-ness and the apostolate is one of biblical poverty. When we recognize our weakness, it is then that we are strong (see 2 Co 12:10). This attitude of humility, which is authenticity and truth, will lead you to recognize with joy that the priestly vocation is a gift of Christ's heart and a choice that reaches the depths of one's heart and mind. In the priestly vocation one experiences the contrast between the power and holiness of the Master who calls and the fragility and littleness of those who have been chosen. You have surely experienced within your-selves a sense of awe before the sublimity and the greatness of the mission that is being entrusted to you; but feel also the security and joy of knowing that it is Jesus who calls, that he will always be with you and give you the strength and joy to be faithful in his service. And he never abandons his disciples. Priesthood: A Gift for the Church The priestly vocation is a gift for the Church. In the Church there are diverse gifts, as the Apostle teaches us: "Grace was given to each of us according to the measure of Christ's gift" (Ep 4:7). All of these different gifts constitute an essential and unrepeatable "part" of "Christ's gift." In reality, all graces and charisms serve jointly "for building up the body of Christ" (Ep 4:12). Among these gifts, the ministerial priesthood takes on a particular importance. We participate in a special way in Christ's priesthood. Even if "from his fullness have we all received, grace upon grace" (Jn l:16), each participates in "Christ's gift" (Ep 4:7) according to particular graces and charisms, always at the service of the ecclesial community, which is the Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 communion of all the faithful. It is necessary to recognize, love and live the diversity and particularity of the gifts, precisely in order to build up the "one Body" of Christ that is the Church, animated by "one Spirit" (Ep 4:4). To the extent that you joyously love your priesthood, you will feel called to appreciate, respect, awaken and cultivate the other charisms of the ecclesial community in order to build up the Body of Christ unto perfection and fullness (see Ep 4:i2). The priestly identity is thus a joyous reality which we experience when we love the gift received in order to serve and improve others, with the commitment to "lay down our lives" like the Good Shepherd (see Jn 10:15). Give Yourselves in Love for Christ, for the Church If the priestly vocation is such a great gift for the Church, this means that you no longer belong to yourselves, but have become the property of Christ, who lives in this Church and awaits you in the many fields of the apostolate. You belong to Christ andto the Church, his "spotless Bride," whom "Christ loved . . . and gave himself up for" (Ep 5:25). This is what is asked of you: that you love. Love of Christ and love of the priesthood would not be possible with-out deep love for the Church, which, notwithstanding the limitations proper to her pilgrim state, does not cease to be the Body of Christ, his Spouse, and the People of God. Serve the flock as priest "not by constraint but willingly, not for shameful gain but eagerly., being examples to the flock" (1 Pt 5:2-3). May the community be able to see in you heralds of the Gospel, ded-icated to this mission of which the world has such urgent need -- a full time dedication, without invading other fields and secular occupations that do not concern you. May you be found in the place assigned to you by the bishop, whose collaborators you will be, in loyal unity, as solic-itous pastors, who in everything reflect their sacramental condition: in the soul's depths, in pastoral activity and in external behavior. To follow Christ also means to fee! truly Church, with filial love, ready for responsible collaboration and with a prompt and generous adher-ence to her discipline and norms, loyally cooperating with your bishop. Only through remaining with Christ, living with him, letting your lives be formed by him, will it be possible to proclaim him with decisiveness, frankness and ardor, communicating the experience that one lives in the mystery of and in communion with the Church, "the universal sacrament of salvation" (Ad Gentes, 1). I Have Called You Friends / 11 Abide in My Love In this way, beloved brothers and sisters, we today experience in a special way -- all of us here present -- the Father's love of which Christ speaks to the apostles on the eve of his death: "As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you" (Jn 15:9). In Christ, the Father's love becomes for us an inexhaustible source of life and light. "The priesthood is the love of the Heart of Jesus,'" said the holy Cure d'Ars, the second centenary of whose birth we celebrate this year, the year of your ordina-tion. Truly, "greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends" (Jn 15:13). It is Christ himself who lays down his life for us. And this "laying down of his life," this sacrifice, remains in the Church and, through the Church, remains in humanity from one gen-eration to the next. It remains through the word of the Gospel and in the Eucharist, the sacrament of the death and resurrection of Christ. It remains, therefore, through the ministry of priests. And through this ministry it renews itself and makes itself present in all ages. From the height of the Cross and from the heart of his salvific sacri-fice, Christ continues to say to us: "Abide in my love" (Jn 15:9). The Lord today tells each of you in a very special way, dear priestly candidates: "If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love" (Jn 15:10). Yes! "Just as I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in his .love" (ibid). In these words the divine bond or relationship transposed to the dimension of human existence is truly manifested. We know well the commandments that constitute the solidity of this permanent bond in the love of Christ. We know very well the principles of priestly life, the requirements of priestly discipline that constitute the firmness of this response. It is truly a matter of sacrificing oneself in following Christ, and this excludes any form of self-establishment, and demands the greatest possi-ble readiness, as is required of him who has nowhere to lay his head (see Lk 9:57-62). It is a commitment that embraces all one's existence, as the Messiah, the Son of God, demands, who with his word calms the tem-pest, heals the sick, evangelizes the poor, drives out demons, reconciles humanity so as to regenerate it to life. He demands full submission to the will of his Father, who may lead you, like Peter, where you do not wish to go (see Jn 21:18). But he always leads the way, lovingly carrying the same cross that he places upon our shoulders and lightens. In fact, the Lord says: "My yoke is easy and my burden is light" (Mt I 1:30). A life faithful to these requirements, a life lived with this love, simulta-neously opens before us the prospect of divine joy. "These things I have 12/ Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full" (Jn 15:11). "This is true paschal joy" (Presbyterorum Ordinis, 11), characteristic of the priestly identity and the prelude to the flowering of priestly vocations. This is the meaning of the priestly vocation and of the service~of, or priestly ministry to, the People of God. "You Did Not Choose Me, But I Chos~ You" "You did not choose me, but I chose you" (Jn 15:16), says the Lord. These words we have all had branded on our hearts, you and I! They are Jesus' words in the familiar and intimate context of the Last Supper, when the Lord lovingly opens his heart to his disciples. It shows the gratuitous nature of his choice of those whom he constitutes his ministers, those to whom he entrusts a mission of particular importance. It is God who initiates the dialogue in salvation history, interwoven with the mar-velous reality of his love. It is he who takes the initiative with the trans-forming power of his Word that re-creates everything. "He first loved us" (Jn 4:9). For this reason the Lord adds: "I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide" (Jn 15:16). Just as the fruit of the first sowing of the Gospel in this land and on this continent has abided in an admirable way, so will your fruit abide today, in these last years of the second Christian millennium, as the fifth centen-nial of the beginning of evangelization in Latin America approaches. Why does this fruit of Christian life abide? Perhaps because those who sowed it knew, at the same time, how to pray, to ask in Christ's name: "So that whatever you ask the Father in my name, he may give it to you" (Jn 15:16). And he will give it to us as well. Fraternal love will be the guarantee of our union with Christ and the efficacious sign of evangelization: "This I command you, to love one another" (Jn 15:17). The efficacy of the Gospel produces fruit that our eyes often do not see. The Lord's grace waits secretly in men's hearts. Today we are living off the seed which generations of generous missionaries planted in the fer-tile Colombian soil and God's grace has caused to sprout and bear fruit. Beyond Frontiers On this day which is so important for the Church, let us look to the future with confidence. The Church thanks you for the work that you are doing, beloved brother bishops and religious superiors, in the realm of vocations, with the cooperation of solicitous and suitable experts in forma-tion, attentive to the norms of the Church and the integral spiritual, academic and pastoral formation of candidates to the priesthood and reli- 1 Have Called You Friends gious life. I thank and bless you for the enormous amount of work which has been carried out in the vocations apostolate. The increase here must bring about the generous opening of hearts with a missionary spirit and a sense of co-responsibility, so that necessary help can be given to the other sister Churches which today suffer a shortage of priests. Looking to Mary, Mother of the Church and loving Mother of priests, in this extremely solemn moment, each of us will feel invited to imitate her motherly love: "In her life the Virgin has been a model of that motherly love with which all who join in the Church's apostolic mission for the regeneration of mankind should be agnimated" (Lumen Gentioum, 65). "The form of this world is passing away" (1 Co 7:31). The genera-tions of all peoples and nations pass away. But the words of the Lord do not pass away. Jesus' words pronounced at the Last Supper will now be made a reality through the Sacrament of Orders that we are about to confer upon the candidates here present. The entire Church of Colombia assembled around her bishops, the universal Church assembled around the Successor of Peter, raises its confident prayer to the Father for these deacons who today, in the city of Medellin, will receive the order of the priesthood. On Mirrors Mirrors can tell me only what I know, That with the rub of time all thing~ grow old. Nothing they hold to stir the still conviction, This must be -- Must wisely be. Wherefore, my summer over, In my skies the first sharp hint of snow, I turn all mirrors to the wall. Let come what may, This is a season now of no surprising -- Nearer the promised Springtime past surmising When God who gave me life Will claim it. Sister Cecilia Ward, S.C. Sacred Heart Convent 6225 Walnut Street Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15206 Mythology, Revitalization and the Refounding of Religious Life Gerald A. Arbuckle, S.M. Father Arbuckle, well known to our readers, will be directing a workshop on the sub-ject of the refounding of religious orders this summer under the auspices of REVIEW FOR RE~Jr~OUS. Just completing a sabbatical year of study and formative prayer expe-rience, he returns to the East Asian Pastoral Institute (P.O. Box1815; Manila 2800; Philippines), where he may be addressed. A myth is a story or tradition which claims to enshrine a fundamental truth or inner meaning about the world and human life. Contrary to popu-lar belief, myths are not childish stories nor mere prescientific explana-tions of the world nor are myths to be equated with falsities or fantasies. Myths are deeply serious insights about reality. Without myths we are unable to determine what things really are, what to do with them, or how to be in relation to them. We come to this conclusion in more recent times because of the writ-ings of people like Raimundo Panikkar,' Karl Jaspers and Paul Ricoeur,2 but particularly because of the careful research of cultural anthropologists into the role of myths in traditional religions. Scripture and theological studies have benefited from this rediscovery of the role of myth in society.3 Myth is recognized as essentially the way we talk .about our religious encounter with God and with the spiritual world. "Unlike historical or abstract truth," writes Avery Dulles, "mys-tery cannot be described or positively defined. It can only be evoked."' The use of symbols and mythical language is crucial for the evoking of mystery. The role of myths in the revitalization of a religious congregation is also acknowledged. For example, in a recent significant reflection on the 14 Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life future of religious life it is said that "Central to the project of revitalization is the need to deepen the mythic roots of one's own life and those of one's community. ''~ But the nature of myths and their precise function in revitalization is poorly researched. This article is an introduc-tory attempt to respond to this paucity of research into the function of myths within religious-life revitalization. I will aim -- to clarify the nature and types of myths and the ways in which they are interpreted especially by cultural anthropologists; -- to reflect on the role of myths for religious-life revitalization and refounding. Myths, Truth and History Anthropologically a myth is a type of narrative which seeks to express in an imaginative or symbolic form a belief about the human person or culture, the world or deity, which cannot adequately be expressed in ordi-nary language. Myths reveal the "meaning and significance of spiritual reality, and how it interpenetrates and affects the familiar physical world. ,,6 Myths are concerned about the meaning of human existence at the deepest possible level, about the problems of evil, the source of crea-tion or how chaos became cosmos, the origins of different cultures. By mythically defining and structuring the world, the human person is able to grasp to some degree or other the regions beyond human control which deeply influence well-being and destiny. Like sacred icons, myths are the "medium of revelation rather than of man's self-expression . They are accepted., as handed down from the gods themselves.''7 Sometimes individuals, e.g., Old Testament prophets, are seen as the agents of the revelations of the gods in the estab-lishment or revitalization of myths. But the myths remain as the revela-tions of mysteries rather than clever illustrations or didactic entertainments on the part of mere human persons. Like all symbols, myths can evoke deep emotional responses and a sense of mystery in those who accept them, simply because they develop out of the very depths of human experience of birth, life, death. No matter how hard we seek to deepen our grasp of the meaning of myths, they still remain somewhat ambiguous and mysterious because they attempt to articulate what cannot be fully articulated. Myths can maintain their influence even though people do not con-sciously accept them. Take the first myth of Genesis, the creation story. Most Western peoples, whether they adhere to the Jewish/Christian faith 16/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 or not, accept the myth's conclusions that people are sacred and have inalienable rights. Myths articulate attitudes toward reality. These atti-tudes can maintain a powerful influence on behavior over a long period.8 Myths, then, are about reality. They are efforts to explain what usu-ally is beyond empirical observation and to some degree or other outside human experience. They speak of reality and experience other than the physical world. This is an important point that needs to be understood if confusion is to be avoided. Myth and empirical truth do not contradict one another. Myths, remember, reveal truths that cannot be grasped through empirical observation. Likewise myth and history do not contradict each other. Each relates to facts from its own standpoint; history observes facts from the "outer physical side, myth from the inner spiritual side. ,9 It can happen that the symbols used to express an inner meaning or truth about life are histor-ically untrue. For example, in the Genesis story we are t01d the vital truth that God created the world. The symbols used, e.g., the number of days for creation, are not all necessarily historically true. But the myth in this case is not out to tell about an event with total historical accuracy. That is not its purpose. Sometimes a myth is totally false historically, even though it is described as though it were an historical event, e.g., the story of Job, Noah's ark. Recall the key insight: myths are out to reveal truths that'mere human observation itself cannot grasp. All kinds of symbols are used to express these truths. Myths sometimes include actual historical events but in order to give them special significance. For example, in Disneyland, Los Angeles, Abraham Lincoln is brilliantly re-presented in the Main Street Opera House, delivering a speech on liberty~ An actual historical event is portrayed. But the props used are not historical, e.g., the dramatic use of lights, the nobility of the furnishings. But these props are rightly used to convey an atmosphere of reverence for one who is "above the normal human person." Lincoln is now seen to embody key virtues of the nation's founding myth, e.g., respect for liberty, democracy and human dignity. The myth gives an inner meaning to an actual historical event. Lincoln saved the nation because he embodied the virtues on which the nation is built. Interpretation of Myths Commentators generally interpret myths in one of three different ways: functionally, symbolically or structurally. Sometimes authors blend aspects of two or all three ways of interpreting myths. This blending is in-valuable. Myths are too rich to allow only one method of interpretation. Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life / 17 According to the functional way of interpretation, myths justify exist-ing social institutions or ways of doing things,'° People feel a deep need for an authority that transcends rational argument to justify what is happen-ing. The rise of democracy was justified in part by the myth of the "social contract." In Nazi Germany programs of vicious race-hatred were justified in part by a revival of the ancient German mythology of race superiority.'~ Symbolic interpretations assume that mythology is a poetic way of com-municating; the meanings of myths are to be found beneath the surfaces of stories. Carl Jung, Sigmund Freud and their followers support this form of interpretation. Jung believes that "the primitive mentality does not invent myths, it experiences them.''~2 There is a "collective uncon-scious," the psychic background which is common to all people, though at the same time supra-personal. There are archetypes, "forms or images of a collective nature," which are active in every mind, remnants of "his-torical mental states" which have been transmitted by traditions, migrations and heredity. These archetypes are identical with the themes of myths. Jung concludes that myths are not charters to legitimate cul-tural institutions, but psychological realities or expressions of the archetypes or primordial images of the collective unconscious. They rep-resent inherited forms present in every human person. Myths give a "local habitation and a name" to these general forms and give them "real-ity" by revealing them to the consciousness. Anthropologists, however, criticize Jung for treating myth as an irreducible mental property.'3 His explanation of myth "denies to culture any formative role in its symbol-ism.'"' For Freud and his followers myth is a type of daydream. It uses the symbolism of dreams articulating unconscious desires and conflicts. But the likening of myth to a daydream does not explain why people build myths in preference to just any daydream and why the sharing of myths is a significant social and cultural fact.'S As w~th Jung, Freudians fail to acknowledge the cultural influences in the evolution of myths. The source of myth for them is far too much dependent on the individual.~6 Many contemporary anthropologists approach the analysis of myths from a symbolic point of view. They claim however that the meanings of symbols are strongly influenced by cultural, rather than individual, experiences. The structural interpretation of myths is a rather recent development. A myth is broken into its different parts, its incidents and motifs, and the interpreter reflects on the ways in which they are interrelated. The aim is to uncover the underlying structure of a myth like a cross-section of the Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 geological strata beneath a landscape. The significance is not sought in the narrative but rather in the arrangement of the underlying strata. One structural pattern common in myths is the interplay of opposites and their resolution. For example the present state of things is the opposite of what was "in the beginning.'''7 In the Genesis story of the fall, Adam and Eve (and their descendants) must work hard to survive. Not so in the begin-ning. In a later myth the opposition will be resolved: "The wolf shall be ¯ a guest of the lamb .The baby shall play by the cobra's den"(Is 1 1: 6,8). A leading structuralist, anthropologist Claude Levi-Strauss, sees in myths "the emergence of a logic operating by means of binary oppositions and coinciding with the first manifestations of symbolism."'8 One of the prime functions of myth is to reconcile apparent contradictions in cultural life. Anthropologist Victor Turner has a quasi-structuralist approach to myth. Myths are for him liminal phenomena; they are recounted fre-quently at a time or in a state that is "betwixt and between," that is, when people are confused or without their traditional cultural supports. Myths recount a period in which the uncertainties and tensions of being in a state of confusion do not exist.'9 For example, the psalmist in the midst of desolation turns to the mythical expression of the Lord's great-ness and concern for Israel. The recounting of this myth gives him con-solation: "I remember the deeds of the Lord; yes I remember your won-ders of old . You led your people like a flock under the care of Moses and Aaron" (Ps 77:12,21). I will return to this insight later. Types of Myths Creation and Regeneration Myths Here are several relevant types of myths: While all cultures have specific myths through which they respond to questions of identity or behavior, it is in their creation myths that the most basic answers are to be found. Not only are creation myths the most all-embracing of mythic proclamations, addressing themselves to the widest range of questions of meaning, but they are also the most pro-found. Take, for example, the New Zealand Maori myth of creation, a myth that is extraordinarily dramatic and rich in language. Being- Itself evolves "from the conception" through thought, spirit and matter to the great peak, the "blaze of day from the sky. ,20 Creation myths like this speak about first causes; in them people express their primary understanding of mankind, the world, time and space. Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life By way of summary,2~ many old creation myths place an absolute real-ity as the very foundation of all life. This reality is both transcendent, i.e., true for all times and places, and immanent, i.e., true in the here and now. To be both transcendent and immanent, the reality is believed to be eternal. While this absolute reality, in whatever way it is defined, is behind all myths, it is most obviously so in strict creation myths. These myths are concerned about the relation of the known to the unknowable, e.g., in the Genesis myth the relation between the world and God. Often the original reality out of which the Absolute created the world is consid-ered divine chaos. It is a chaos out of which order and dis-order can develop. Rather than being "something" negative, chaos is vigorously positive inasmuch as order can emerge from it. Anthropologist Mircea Eliade believes that there is a creation dimen-sion behind every kind of myth. Myth, he says, "is always the recital of a creation; it tells how something was accomplished, began to be. It is for this reason that myth is bound up with ontology; it speaks of realities, ~ ,~22 of what really nappeneu. For him "reality" means "sacred reality." And the sacred reality belongs to sacred time, the time when creation took place. In profane time people carry on the ordinary business of daily living. It is sacred time. which gives meaning to life; sacred time breaks into people's lives through rituals in which people re-enact, re-live the holy or the original creation, their emergence out of chaos. In short they relive the founding myths of their cultures. The reliving of the founding myth is called a regeneration ritual. It is particularly relevant when a people's cultural identity seems to be falling into chaos or is threatened with chaos. People feel the need to relive their original founding, and thus win back their identity. Regeneration rituals are not commemorative. They are always founda-tional or re-creative in their demands on people. That is, people are expected to undergo a deep interior and exterior change or revitalization; they must experience a new creation out of chaos. They are to be passive and active in the presence of the revealing absolute.2~ To use Eliade's lan-guage, in regeneration rituals sacred time breaks into profane time. Sacred time is ritual time, the brief transcendence through festival. It con-sists of those rites in which people re-enact the holy, aboriginal events of their culture. The escape into sacred time intimates immortality, a rescue in any case from the meaningless. Charter Myths These myths legitimate actions in the present or in the future. For example, people who are influenced by the Genesis myth of creation feel 20/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 legitimated in their work of dominating nature.2' The American political system of checks and balances is legitimated in the Constitution myth. Identity Myths These myths, intimately related to creation myths, provide individuals and cultures with a sense of belonging. The Old Testament is filled with myths that give identity to the Israelites, e.g., the Exodus narrative. In identity myths there are often heroes, including historical figures, who symbolize this identity and whose lives indicate how this identity is to be achieved or restored, e.g., Old Testament prophets, Abraham Lincoln, J. E Kennedy. Eschatological Myths These are myths about the end of an age or the end of time. They speak about key issues of life, death and resurrection, future rewards and punishments, even an apocalyptic ihsight into a future age of peace and plenty.~ These myths often tell of a former age of peace and contentment that was lost but is to be restored if people act rightly. They are the driv-ing force behind the way people live their morality and institute revolu-tionary movements. Communism offers its golden age of the classless soci-ety, one to be shared by those who battle against oppressors. The col-lective champion, or culture hero, in this myth is the proletariat which struggles against and, eventually overcomes, the bourgeoisie. Dominant, Supportive and Directional Myths In the narrative story of a people, different myths may be intercon-nected into what is called a mythology. Generally, one myth will stand out over the others in the mythology. This is called a dominant myth. The other myths complement or support this dominant myth. Some myths, called directional myths, indicate how the foundational or creation myth is to be lived out. The written American Constitution, which established the political system, could be considered a directional myth. Myth Management New myths are created and old myths are maintained in existence, are constantly revised or die out because of a variety and flow of forces, changing needs and new perceptions. We call the creation, revision or disappearance of myths myth management. Myth management occurs through such processes as myth extension, substitution, drift and revitaliza-tion. We will briefly examine each of these processes. Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life/91 Myth Extension When people ransack the past to find legitimation for the present, there is myth extension. For example, American politicians are apt to quote great politicians of the past, or other cultural heroes, in order to legitimate what they are saying about the present situation. In the process of extension the myth is applied to new needs. Sometimes revision or extension occurs if only the meaning of the specific myths, not the words themselves, is changed. The American foundational myth -- which includes the "revelation" that "all men are created equal," -- for exam-ple -- is still vigorous, even though we have come to include blacks and all women in an originally very restrictive assertion. Although the mean-ing of the myth is much extended, the "fact" of equality is still consid-ered to be unchallenged. Notice that the community itself is involved in one way or another in revising or extending the myth's meanings or emphases. Myth Substitution Myth substitution is a difficult and often painful process. Marxist Rus-sian leaders seek to manipulate their people, often under the threat of violence, by inventing new myths to legitimate their power and suprem-acy. 26 Sometimes a new myth becomes acceptable through a process of education, persuasion and example. Paul VI deliberately used ritual experi-ences to help people grasp Vatican II mythology. For example, in order to stress the servant role of the papacy he put aside the use of the regal tiara. For his funeral he willed that he be buried in a simple wooden casket. Myth Drift Drift occurs when myths change, degenerate or disappear without deliberate planning on the part of individuals or groups. Fairy tales and legends are sometimes secularized myths; they have lost their original sacredness because over time they have ceased to be important to people in answering key questions about life and its meaning. In our contemporary world there is a strong tendency to equate "literal-ness" with "truth." When this happens the power of myths is undermined. For example, if the metaphor referring to the ascension of Jesus to the Father is taken literally in spatial terms, then God is assumed to be resident in space, at a certain height in the atmosphere. Once this literal interpretation is brought into question, however, the danger is that the inner meaning of the myth is also called into question. But the reli-gious symbols of myth cannot be reduced to purely factual or intellectual 22/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 terms. Truth is bigger than what can be empirically analyzed.27 Sometimes the dominant myth is distorted because a secondary or directional myth assumes an exaggerated position. This has happened to the Genesis creation myth. Extreme capitalism with its emphasis on indi-vidualism displaces the original stress in the mytl~ on our responsibility to be co-creators with God in this world. Social consciousness thus is downplayed in what has become a distorted myth. Marxism, with its stress on the future communist golden age, is a secularization and vulgarization of the same creation myth; for, remove God and individual dignity is unprotected.28 One of the most powerful barriers to an understanding of myth, and it~ survival, is the fact that people may no longer share the kind of faith which had originally given rise to it. As T. Fawcett says, "The myths embody a religious outlook on the world. If this is not shared by one who seeks to interpret the myths, there is at least a strong possibility of misunderstanding. Myth Revitalization Myths can articulate "how chaos became cosmos.''3° When a people or culture is threatened with chaos or experiences chaos it feels the urge to rediscover the original creation myth, to relive it. Iri the reliving of the myth, it seeks once more to achieve identity and self-worth. Take the example of the American foundation myth. This myth exalted the potential of the human person to grow in strength and human perfection. During the late 1960s and 1970s the nation experienced cultural turmoil. Antiheroes abounded: people burned the sacred flag, presidents failed to live up to the American spirit of pride in the nation's prestige, the nation suffered a disastrous war in Vietnam and was humiliated in Iran. There was needed, said Time, "a reassertion of man as shaper of the world rather than the '70s model as victim or passive partner.''3~ The 1984 Olympics at Los Angeles gave many Americans the chance to relive their founding myth: "The belief was reborn that Americans can do, well, any-thing."~ 2 There were other events also: "It was a year of ceremonies . Some of the rites played a kind of sacramental role., conferring a heal-ing reassurance."~ And there were cultural heroes: the organizer of the Olympic Games, the participants themselves, thecountry's actor-president. Notice the key factors in revitalization: a feeling of chaos/confusion, the emergence of cultural heroes in touch with creation roots and the will-ingness of people to participate in the reliving or reappropriation of the founding myth. The myth can be updated, distorted or purified in the pro-cess. Stallone in Rambo and Rocky is, an updating of the American mythic Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life hero; he is the modem cowboy, now dressed for contemporary deeds. In light of the Gospel, and indeed of the creation myth of America itself, this updated mythic hero is a moral distortion of what the hero should be because of the senseless use of violence .34 Notice, finally, that for revitalization to occur the myth should come alive in new symbols, e.g., in the American case, the "Games Extrava-ganza." If this does not happen, then the supposed revitalization is a regressive and fundamentalist movement, such as happened in the Iranian revolution. There is a failure to adjust to the realities of change. Summary: Key Anthropological Points in Myths Despite the divergent approaches to the study of myths, there are important points of agreement among anthropologists. Here are some of them: Myths Are Symbolic Revelations of Truths A symbol is any reality that by its very dynamism leads to another deeper reality through a sharing in the dynamism that the symbol itself offers. Symbols speak not just to the intellect, but more especially to the heart, to the feelings. Symbols arouse strong emotional responses. The one symbol can contain many meanings at the same time, even contrary meanings, e.g., the cross connotes both death and resurrection. ' Symbols do not just point to the things signified (as simple signs do), but they truly represent them. This is why symbols operate at the level of metaphor, not of simile. The metaphor articulates not merely a like-ness, but an identity. Such a metaphor insists on being taken seriously at a very deep level, that of personal commitment. So a myth, expressed in metaphorical symbolism, demands that people identify with its inner mes-sage and accept the consequences in action of this inner conversion.~5 Within each myth one metaphor will pred6minate over others. This metaphor is called the root metaphor, e.g., in the Way of the Cross, Christ is the root metaphor, while the persons of Mary and Veronica are complementary or supportive metaphors in the narrative.~ Creation Myths Speak of Chaos Creation myths are the most universal kind of myth. They tell us why humans suffer and die, how they establish and maintain social cohesion, how they relate to absolute reality. In many myths an original chaos is depicted, but a chaos that has potential for creativity. In the Judaeo- Christian tradition, the absolute reality is God. When people experience intense confusion, they are apt to experience themselves as reinserted into 24/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 that original chaos. The retelling of the myth can give them new energy, new hope. Myths, History and Doctrines Are to Be Distinguished A myth is not some kind of mixed-up history. It tells what occurred not in profane or ordinary time, but in the beginning, in sacred time, i.e., in the period of the gods or the creators of the world. It is an account of a primordial event that gives meaning to reality, telling why it came into existence and why it continues to exist. History deals With another type of reality altogether, i.e., the observable world. Historical analysis is invaluable in helping people dis-cover how local history has affected the interpretation of myths. History, however, cannot evaluate the authenticity of the inner meaning of a myth. Special evaluative principles, e.g., from theology or Church magisterium in relating to Christian mythology, are needed to authenticate a myth's meaning. The aim of a myth is to communicate a profound truth in the form of a story. Religious myth achieves a kind of revelatory character through this truth, by uncovering something of universal validity about the nature of life and reality. Neither are myths equivalent to doctrines, though they are both ways of interpreting religious experiences. Doctrines generally use philosoph-ical language to express meanings, whereas myths use highly symbolic language. Myths complement doctrines; they help provide insight into the more abstract content of doctrines.37 Mythical Archetypes and Ritual Assume Conversion Anthropologist Bronislaw Malinowski asserts that myth "is not merely a story told but a reality lived." It is "not an idle tale, but a hard-worked active force.''~ Eliade believes myth is a "sacred history" and hence "saturated with being . . . and power. ,,39 Both authors, experts in the study of myth, are speaking of the "eternal" relevance and dynamism of myths for those who accept them. What does this mean? In all cultures there are some forms of repeated symbolic behavior that are tied by explanatory verbalization to their basic ways of understand-ing human existence. The repeated symbolic behavior is called ritual. The explanatory verbalization is myth. The myth sets out what should be; it .is the archetypal directive to a group of people. In ritual, people "own" or interiorize that directive; ritual provides a way of participating in the myth experience. The key word is archetypal. The Absolute -- in whatever way it is defined -- is immanent as well as transcendent in every creation myth. That is,the Absolute is here as well as everywhere; it is now as well as always. Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life The Absolute achieves transcendence and immanence through arche-types; they give shape and form to this or that. Archetypes are always valid, never change, because they are the Absolute and belong to sacred time. Archetypes break into profane time through ritual, giving people the chance to experience sacred time. Jesus, the archetype, rises from the tomb and transcends his relativity at all times. But he is with us now as he was with those who saw him on the first Easter Day.'° This is a key insight especially into creation myths. The archetype is not a prototype. The latter connotes the first of a line; the prototype may or may not con-tinue to influence subsequent events. But the archetype has universal application; it is timeless, it guarantees authenticity, it is the re-presentation of the Absolute of the myth in the here and now. Adam has relevance to us, not just because he is considered the first man, i.e., prototype, but because he represents the essential man, i.e., an archetype. His original sin is therefore ours. It is inherent in the human condition. We inherit the sin to the degree that we inherit our humanity. This is what is meant when we say that a myth is an active force or is saturated with power. For that power or active force to have an effect, people must acknowl-edge its existence; they must own it. For this to occur there needs to be a conversion to the reality of the myth. It is to accept the reality and force of sacred time within our lives. We allow the transcendent Absolute to become immanent, i.e., to take over our lives through the myth. II My task now is to illustrate how this analysis of myth can help us to grasp in more depth what is meant when we, as religious, are called "to deepen the mythic roots of one's own life and those of one's com-munity." The "Creation Myth" of Religious Life We believe as Christians that the Absolute in the Genesis creation myth is God himself, and that Jesus is the Absolute in the redemption myth of the Gospel. We come to these insights through the power and the presence of the Holy Spirit: "The Spirit we have received is not the world's spirit but God's Spirit, helping us to recognize the gifts he has given us" (l Co 2:12). The life, suffering, death and resurrection of Jesus constitute the Re-creation Myth; through Jesus we have a more pro- 42 found understanding of God and his designs for us. The Christian "locks in" on the Re-creation Myth by accepting the 26/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 same mission that the Father gave the Son, the mission to go out and bring the Good News to all. The call by the Father to mission with the Son constitutes the creation myth of religious life. While all Christian people are committed to evangelical perfection and mission with the Son, religious for their part publicly commit them-selves in faith to be unconditional in their response to the Father's call, in their love of him and of members of their own communities, his Church, and the world he wants to be saved. They openly commit them-selves not to this or that particular demand of the Lord at this or that par-ticular time and place but to be totally available, as other Christs, for the Father's work. They strive to take seriously always the command of the Lord: "Be converted and believe in the Good News"(Mk 1:15). This requires of religious an enduring identification with Christ, an act of love, that should govern all their actions. This describes the identification myth of religious. Religious are drawn by the power of the eschatological myth also, that is, the myth of the 'promise of "new heavens and a new earth where., the justice of God will reside"(2 Pt 3:13). They seek to reveal this new world of justice and love now, that through their example others maydiscover the saving power of the Lord, his mercy and compassion.'3 The commitment through the vows logically flows from the ear-nestness of t:eligious to be available to the Lord and to his Church. Vows place the person at the service of mission; they give religious more free-dom to be totally at the service of the Lord's mission. J. Tillard notes that the vows form a supportive myth. When they are seen as the dominant myth in religious life, religious tend to become inward-looking and hesitant in serving the needs of an ever changing world: One becomes a religious for the sake of the Gospel, not strictly for the . sake of the three classical vows. Although the vows represent elements that are specific to the religious life and therefore indispensable to who-ever feels called to that life by the Holy Spirit, they are not the primary elements in the concrete life of grace of the religious." This was recognized in practice by the Church for centuries; the custom of the now traditional three religious vows comes only from the 45 turn of the twelfth century. As religious commit themselves to be in the forefront of revealing the mythical mYstery of the Lord's redemptive love for the world, the Church rightly expects of them a creative dynamism in searching out new and better ways of preaching this message. Religious, then, are to be special-ists in pastoral innovation, in giving ritual flesh to the myths that motivate them. This charismatic character of religious life ,as being open to the Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life / "2"1 Spirit in mission we can refer to as its directional myth. It indicates the how of living out religious life. Theologian Johannes Metz says that religious are to be a kind of shock therapy instituted by the Holy Spirit for the Church as a whole. Against the dangerous accommodations and questionable com-promises that the Church as a large-scale institution can always incline to, they press for the uncompromising nature of the Gospel and of the imitation of Christ. In this sense they are the institutionalized form of a dangerous memory within the Church.'6 Once religious cease to be a dangerous memory within the Church, or once they stop being creatively responsive to the needs of the Church, they cease to be identified with the distinguishing mythology of religious life. Ultimately identification with Christ the Redemptive Myth comes through faith, nourished in prayer. The day-to-day struggle of the reli-gious to be uncompromising in mission will at times fill him or her with "fear and distress" such as Jesus experienced in the garden before his passion, for "the spirit is willing but nature is weak"(Mk 14:34,38). Their fervent prayer is: "My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass me by. Still, let it be as you would have it,,not as I"(Mt 26:39). Zeal with-out prayer cannot survive. In prayer we discover the precipitous depths of our own poverty on the one hand, and the saving presence of Jesus the Myth on the other. With him we speak confidently for strength to the Father. The Mythology of Religious Congregations Individual religious congregations exist in the Church because found-ing persons are deeply shocked to see the gap e~isting between the Gospel and the world. They see people who do not know of the mercy and healing power of Christ. They~see even people who have heard of Christ compromise with worldly values. These founding persons recog-nize how the gap between the Gospel and the woi'ld Can be bridged through particular apostolic strategies. So they act. Inspired by the Holy Spirit, they invite others to join them in living out their new vision. Thus the seeds are sown for a new religious congrega-tion to emerge. Each congregation, then, has its own distinctive mythology--its crea-tion, identity, .directional myths. The myth-maker is the founding person in cooperation with the Holy Spirit. The root metaphor or symbol in the dominant myth will be the particular aspect of the redemptive myth of Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 Christ that is seen to be especially applicable at a particular time and place in the Church's life, e.g., the poverty of Christ, Christ as evangelizer. A religious congregation, when it is true to its mythology, is a medium of God's revealing and redeeming presence in the world. The fervor of the original congregational creation myth, as history shows, is very rarely sustained.'7 Our analysis of myth management helps us to understand how this winding down of enthusiasm occurs. Through a process of "myth drift" religious congregations can, even without realiz-ing it, accommodate their apostolic work and way of living too much to ambient secular values and customs. They neglect the uncompromising nature of the original myth. In the Middle Ages the Benedictines in Europe went into decline. "No one [any longer] looked to them for new ideas or new forms of spir-itual life," comments historian Richard Southern. "Rather they looked to them for stability, pageantry, involvement in the aristocratic life of the upper classes."4~ Gone was the inner commitment to the founding myth of creative obedience through a vigorous spirit of self-abnegation. They became lost in maintenance and forgot mission! Historian David Knowles, reflecting on the decline of the quality of the lives of monks, religious and clergy in the early Tudor period in England, comments: "Monks and clergy alike were children of their age and country; it was this that made the Dissolution [of the monasteries under Henry VIII], and indeed many of the religious changes of the reign, not only possible but relatively easy of accomplishment. ,,9 They had become accommodated so comfortably to the worldly values of the time that they were indistinguishable from the people they claimed to serve. Through the neglect of their founding mythology, religious had drifted to a point of spiritual and innovative enfeeblement. Their extinc-tion was then inevitable, even if Henry VIII had not himself acted with such speed. Sometimes a secondary or directional myth can be substituted for the creation and/or identity myths as a result of unchecked drift on the part of the religious congregation. For example, a congregation established for the pastoral needs of the poor through education services found itself eventually running schools only for the well-to-do. Members of the congre-gation "justified" this movement away from the poor on the grounds that the institute was founded "for education through schools." The mythology of the congregation was being misread. Concern for the poor belonged to the creation and identity myths; the establishment of schools pertained only to a directional myth. The congregation had definitely moved away from its mythical roots. Raymond Hostie believes that a myth substitution through the imposi- Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life tion of a semimonastic model of religious life affected many congrega-tions of both men ahd women founded in the two centuries prior to Vatican II. In its defense against the effects of the Reformation and an emerging secularism, the Church turned in on itself. Its "narcissistic pre-occupation," as Avery Dulles phrases it,~° discouraged experimentation. Congregations certainly grew numerically and spread geographically. But the creative insights of founding persons, which should have led to rad-ically new forms of religious-life witness and pastoral action, were unable to be realized. It is not surprising, therefore, that the models of religious life in non-European lands even now remain Western.~' In the period fol-lowing upon Vatican II, religious life inculturation is a slow and very hes-itant process. Case Study of a Mythology: The Marists In this case study I will first describe the mythology system of a particular religious congregation; then I will summarize what has hap-pened to this mythology after the congregation was formally approved. Aspects of the above analysis will be highlighted in the case study. Mythology of the Society of Mary The Society of Mary (Marist Fathers and Brothers) was founded by Father John C. Colin in Lyons, France, and formally approved in 1836. Its aim is to carry on Mary's work in the world. "She is," he writes, "the refuge, the defense, the support, the advocate . the recourse of the militant Church." The creation (and dominant) myth reveals Mary as sup-porting the apostles at Pentecost or at the beginning of the Church, but with an added dimension. That support is to be continued now in and through Marists and other people committed to her seryice. She is recorded as saying: "I upheld the Church at its birth; I shall do so again at the end of time." Mary herself, through the Holy Spirit, decides to found a congregation which is to take her name. Her human instrument in this founding, according to Fr. Colin, is Fr. Colin himself. She remains the first and perpetual superior of the congregation, which is itself committed to be her presence within the Church "at the end of time." The root metaphor is Mary herself, Mother of Mercy. And it is from this metaphor that Marists receive their identity. Marists are to "be Mary" to the world; they are to think, judge and act as Mary does. So they are to be instruments of the Divine Mercy. There are several directional myths indicating how Marists are to be Mary as the support of the Church. As instruments of Divine Mercy, 30/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 Marists are to stress qualities of forgiveness, tenderness, compassion. A second direction myth is summarized in the phrase "hidden and unknowns" In the early Church Mary acted quietly, aiming all the time to inspire people to grow in Christ. So also Marists are to encourage people to develop their own gifts in the Lord. Hence, Marists must be prepared to withdraw from involvement as those they serve discover their own potential for self-growth. A powerful symbol of this action-principle, "hidden and unknown," is Nazareth. No one can act in a hidden, self-effacing way, unless he or she has the humility, the detach-ment that comes from deep union with Christ in prayer. Nazareth sym-bolizes these key virtues. Only through these virtues will a Marist avoid selfishness and the desire for power that are obstacles which would obstruct Mary's work in the Church. To be Pentecost people, Marists must be firmly rooted in the contemplative virtues of Nazareth. A further directional myth is devotion to learning. Marists are to be concerned for any kind of learning that would make them better instru-ments of the Divine Mercy. There is also a vigorous eschatological myth within the Marist mythology. "The Society of Mary," declares its founder, "must begin a new Church over again." By this he means not an arrogant claim to reform, but rather a challenge to "re-create the faith of the first believ-ers." As the early believers were of one mind and one heart, so there will be the same kind of communion in the fullness of Christ's kingdom. By living in one mind and in one heart, Marists will help transform the Church, aiding it to be now what the world will be in the perfection of the kingdom to come. This eschatological myth affected the founder's vision of how Marists are to relate to lay people and to worldly symbols of power. Colin had the vision of a family, a family of Mary, in which there would also be lay people who commit themselves to be Mary to the world in which they live. Because he stressed the notion of Mary's family, Colin reacted to the evils of clericalism and attachment to worldly distinctions. On the practical level, therefore, Marist brothers and priests are to live together without distinction, showing to a world in which distinctions and unequal differences of lifestyles are commonplace that such behavior patterns are foreign to the kingdom that is to come. The particular object of Marist apostolic concern is those who are the most abandoned, the "little people" of this world, those with whom no one else is involved. The concern for the "little people" belongs to th.e identity myth ofthe congregation. Anthropologist Levi-Strauss speaks of "binary oppositions" within Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life myths. Such oppositions exist in Marist mythology. And they are dialectical in quality or tension: Pentecost versus Nazareth, identification with the local Church versus commitment to the more universalist reli-gious life, with its freedom and identity. Take the latter tension. Colin says that bishops must consider Marists "as if they were their own men." On the other hand he insists in word and action on areas of independence from bishops. How are the two to be reconciled? As in all myths, no detailed instructions are given on how such tensions are to be reconciled in practice. It is assumed that their res-olution is possible only through people identifying thoroughly with the mythology. Marists in a spirit of faith will discover how the tensions are to be worked out in reality, thus revealing that people can live together with one heart and one mind. In summary, Colin founded a congregation committed, through its stress on Pentecost, to a service within the Church that is pastorally cre-ative, mobile and flexible, depending on the priority of need. He strongly detested any apostolate that would prevent the congregation from acting according to these qualities. Hence only in very exceptional conditions did he allow Marists to staff parishes. He feared that parishes would pre-vent Marists from being available for works of greater need. Colin believed that the nineteenth century had ushered in the age of Mary. He felt chaos on all sides, both in the civil and in the ecclesiastical spheres. Mary established her congregation to be one instrument of mercy to people caught in this chaos. To respond adequately to this challenge, Marists must possess the creativity of Pentecost and the hidden, contemplative virtues of Nazareth. Implementation of Marist Mythology: Myth Management Did Colin's dream of Pentecostal creativity take place in the congrega-tion he founded.'? For a variety of reasons, the actual interiorization and living out of Marist mythology (as revealed through Colin) up to Vatican II have been very hesitant indeed. Certainly, as with many other congrega-tions founded in France in the nineteenth century, the institute expanded numerically and geographically at great speed. Marists, with extraordi-nary courage and faith, left for remote and dangerous mission fields. The congregation has loyally served local Churches wherever it has been estab-lished. But, as with many other congregations over the last two hundred years, the institute has rarely shown any above-average pastoral creativ-ity, mobility or flexibility--at least if we take the founder's Pentecost met-aphor as the measure of analysies. Powerful internal and external factors militated against the type of pastoral and religious-life creativity that 32/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 could have been expected to have emerged out of the founding charism. Internally, myth management through substitution and drift par-ticularly dulled the impact of the founding charism. The founder's suc-cessor as superior general had not adequately interiorized the founding mythology. He had a far less exalted vision of what the congregation should be. Hence he proceeded to impose his own mythology on the young congregation. He believed the congregation should be nothing more than a pious association of dedicated people. The founder later had his own vision concretized into approved constitutions. But in practice the institute rarely lived the rich insights of the creation ,and dominant myths. What was a directional myth -- the Nazareth symbol -- became instead the dominant myth. instead of the Nazareth myth ("hidden and unknown") remaining as an action-principle, that is, indicating how Marists are to act apostolically, it became an end in itself. Now Marists were to do nothing apostolically that would in any way attract attention to themselves. This was a tragic distortion. It legitimated mediocrity and dullness. It reinforced the already existing nineteenth-century image of religious life, namely, that it be semimonastic in structure, inward-looking and a vigorous supporter of the status quo. The distortion also effectively killed another key directional myth, namely, the concern that the founder had for learning as an essential means for the living out of the creation myth. Few people were encour-aged to research and publish their findings for fear that they would draw attention to the congregation and to themselves. Inevitably the distortion influenced the initial formation programs of the institute, so that it thus became perpetuated from generation to generation. The overall failure of the congregation to grasp the founder's insights is evident in a review of the general and provincial chapter decrees or legislation from the 1870s to Vatican II. For example, the 1873 general chapter of the Marists established the aims of the provincial chapters: to promote religious discipline according to the Rule and to inquire into the financial administration of houses. No mention was made of the need to. foster new forms of religious-life witness or pastoral action. The 1893 pro-vincial chapter of one of the provinces directed that "Religious [includ-ing pastors] were° prohibited from going out after the evening meal for unnecessary visits." The assumption was that a Marist house is a quasi, monastery; people should respect this, and anyone in need pastorally should be discouraged from approaching Marists "after the evening meal," unless in exceptional circumstances. An examination of provincial visitation reports reflects the same con- Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life cern for the maintenance of religious discipline and respect for the Rule, but again no interest in the evaluation of pastoral effectiveness or creativ-ity. For example, just prior to the Japanese invasion of Ne~v Guinea in World War II, a provincial reported on the state of Marists in a particu-larly difficult section of that country: "The fathers, in spite of their pov-erty, must wear socks when saying Mass and be dressed decently, as respectable clergymen ought to be when appearing in public." Nothing was said about the enormous pastoral and cultural challenges which con-fronted the men.5' Externally the congregation was affected deeply by the semimonastic view of religious life referred to above. This model provided very little opportunity for the type of creativity envisaged by the original Marist mythology. It was assumed theologically that the world should adapt to the unchanging Church, not vice versa. The curricula of seminaries of this time allowed for little or no room for positive social-science subjects, e.g., sociology, anthropology. These subjects were not seen to be neces: sary for the apostolate. The above analysis is given not to provide reasons to ridicule the past, but to illustrate the historical way in which this particular congrega-tion, along with many others at that time, found difficulties in interiorizing the founder's vision. The analysis also helps to put into per-spective the adaptive efforts of the congregation since Vatican II. In the 1950s, there began within the congregation an historical in-depth analysis of its mythology. Thus the institute was well prepared to take up the challenge of Vatican II that religious should reflect on their founding charisms. The richness of the original insights of the founder were already being exposed. Through the advances in Scripture and the-ology studies, the congregation was able to deepen yet further its grasp of the meanings of its myths. Thus, through a process of myth extension, it became possible for the congregation to embrace insights unknown at the time of the founder, e.g., insights into Mary as a s~ymbol within the Church, the role of the local Church, confirmation about the creative role of religious life. Marists were now exposed to a mythology that was denied many previ-ous generations. Little wonder that the comment is made today that the congregation, having rediscovered its original mythology, is set for refounding. Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life Religious congregations today are experiencing chaos.5~ Twenty years after Vatican II, despite renewal chapters, surveys, renewal programs, 34/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 congregations remain confused. Recruitment is poor, entrants even nonex-istent in many instances. The average age of religious rises alarmingly. Unless the present trend is checked, extinction for many institutes seems inevitable. Yet, as history shows, this experience of chaos is a potentially cre-ative atmosphere for religious-life growth. New religious congregations have generally emerged not so much when the Church was flourishing, but rather when it was profoundly disoriented and uncertain of itself. The Church is disoriented and unsure of itself at this moment. Hence the urgency to look more .closely at the creative possibilities of the chaos we are experiencing. In the Book of Jeremiah we have an insight into the positive dimen-sion of chaos. Yahweh informs Jeremiah what he expects of him: "See, I place my words in your mouth!. To root up and to tear down, to destroy and to demolish, to build and to plant"(1:10). Before there can be life again among the Israelites, all their securities, their apparently eternally valid ways of acting, must be destroyed and pulled down. The people will feel lost and disoriented. They will look for the consoling help of Yahweh. Then they will realize that they have become too com-placent about life and their institutions: they must again become pilgrims. The message of the book remains highly relevant. We religious are a pilgrim people. There Jan be no permanent security, whether in ideology, apostolates, buildings, ritual ancestry, history, except what comes from our trust in God. While we relate to the past and our roots, we are to be open to the future in constantly changing ways. People tend to react to chaos in one of two possible ways: negatively or positively. When people deny that chaos exists they act negatively. Jesus often reminds the Pharisees and Scribes that they are denying the chaos and confusion within them. He condemns them for distorting the founding myth of the nation. Within their hearts there is but chaos and confusion, and they will not admit it: "You cleanse the outside of cup and dish, but within you are filled with rapaciousness and evil . You are like hidden tombs over which men walk unawares" (Lk 11:39,44). People can refuse to accept the challenge of chaos by attempting to escape into the past. They find comfort in a kind of historical romanticism or nostalgia. The past is idealized, and they hope for a restora-tion without change. Such people will not acknowledge the need for interior and exterior adaptation to a changing world. Nostalgia, however, gives only temporary consolation. Eventually reality must be faced if people are to survive. Positively, people can react to chaos when they acknowledge their Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life total dependence on God and enter into a reconversion process. Reconverted, these people live with new and zealous lives of justice and love in Yahweh's service. Often in the Old Testament the longing for con-version grows out of a deep sense of sin, suffering, and frustration, result-ing from an experience of disorientation. All these agonies of soul are cou-pled with prayers for mercy, forgiveness, and for yet another chance to begin all over again: -"A clean heart create for me, O God, and a stead-fast spirit renew within me . I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you."(Ps 51:12,15). In the midst of chaos the reconverted Israelites retell, and relive, the nation's 9reation myth, e.g., "Aloud to God I cry;o.on the day of my distress I seek the Lord . I remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I remember your wonders of old. And I meditate on your works; your exploits I ponder."(Ps 75:2,3,12,13). Through his recital of the foundation myth the psalmist gains hope, but only on condition that he hir~self is in deep union with Yahweh through reconversion in faith. Faith's hope and reconversion are integral. The archetype of the creation myth is: God saves a humble and con-trite people who cry out for help. When the Israelite is humbly, contrite and cries from the depths for help, the myth is once more revitalized. So also in the New Testament. There are eight occasions in the gospels on which Jesus says "Your faith has saved you," or equivalent words, e.g., the blind man (Mk 10:52, Lk 18:42). In all eight examples there are three characteristics: first, there is a situation of critical need; second, this need is expressed in some action or statement that clearly costs much; third, there is a clear sign that the petitioner abandons himself or herself uncondi-tionally to the will of Jesus. In Gethsemane Jesus himself gives an exam-ple of this prayer pattern when he petitions the Father: expression of dire need, action and statement that costs so much, the expression of his total abandonment to the w¯ dl of the Father (Mk 14:32-42). As with the Israelites, as also with Je~sus, we religious are confronted with a dire need: the urgency to abandon our congregation and ourselves to the will of God. He has allowed our securities -- born of our t~:ust in fine buildings and institutions, and of a never ending supply of vocations -- to be destroyed. What is God asking of us now? What is our future? In times of chaos, positively oriented Israelites retold their mythology, especially their creation myth. The act of obedience to Yahweh became the ritualization of their mythology. As for those Israelites, so also for contemporary religious. In the retelling of our congregational mythology, there must be the carrying out of God's will 36/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 in the here-and-now. This is the ritual dimension of mythology. The transcendent power of God becomes immanent in this or that particular action. H~wever, for an authentic retelling of congregational myths, the individual religious need to be involved in three processes: 1. The interpretation of the congregational 'mythology.~ Congregational mythology must b~' purified of all distortions and inau-thentic substitutions that have occurred over time. Purification requires a critical, historical analysis. This should be done with due reference to theology and the relevant documents of the Church. For example, if pas-toral creativity has ceased to be a key directional myth in the congrega-tional, mythology, it is to be restored to its correct position. Or if the mythology does not permit of due consultation by superiors of religious, then a correction is required in line with Vatican II and the New Code. This latter eventuality would be an example of myth extension. Interpretation is a long and difficult task. Not all have the expertise to undertake it. However, all are to be critically acquainted with the results of interpretation through personal and community study/reflection. Expert historians should be available for questioning by the congregation. At some point an official group of the congregation may have to' decide on what should be an interpretation of difficult texts -- especially if it is a question of new constitutions. There are two dangers to be avoided at the interpretation stage. First, religious who are insensitive to the power and necessity of symbols, met-aphors and mythology, may want congregational literature, e.g., con-stitutions, presented "rationally, scientifically, literally." The argument of this entire article is that this cannot be done. An attempt to do so will only distort the founding person's message. Second, no matter how many conferences and learned discussions are held to interpret the founding charism or learn about it, this does not mean that congregational revitalization has occurred or will inevitably take place. Remember, the temptation to escape into historical romanticism or nostalgia through frequent references to the founding person's insights without at the same time being prepared to live out the challenge of his charism in contemporary life is very real indeed. Mere discussion can take on an almost magical note: "The more we discuss, the faster we will find our way out of chaos." Expert interpreters come to be viewed as gurus or congregational magicians: they will lead us to the right and ancient ways of doing .things. I suspect that all too many of us fall victim to this temptation. We fear the internal and exter-nal changes that will have' to be made if we take the role of mythology Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life / 37 as the way out of confusion seriously. Remember, interpretation is only the first stage in congregational revitalization. Reconversion and discernment have yet to occur. 2. The discernment of the mythology's relevance.55 For discernment to take place there must be a reconversion by reli-gious on three levels: personally (and corporately) to Christ, to the mission of the Church and to the congregation's mythology (which assumes a revitalized theology of religious life). The call to reconversion (or, as it is sometimes called, "second con-version") is the call to transcend previous levels of faith and love, to move toward a mature faith which transforms the person from disciple to steward, one prepared to give oneself without reservation to the mission of the Lord.56 St. Paul explains it in this way: "It is not that I have reached it yet, or have already finished my course: but I am racing to grasp the prize if possible since I have been grasped by Christ . I give no thought to what lies behind but push on to what is ahead"(Ph 2:120. The call to reconversion will invariably bring with it the request by Christ to an ever more radical experience of him--in his suffering, his facing of chaos and a sense of abandonment, his complete commitment to the will of the Father, his death -- before there is the "resurrection" of inner clarity as to what the Father wishes. To live as steward for others means we must first die to self: "He died for all so that those who live might live no longer for themselves"(2 Co 5:15). The poorer we are in spirit, the more preparted we are to spot and abandon our prejudices and our yearning for power over others. Freed from such obstacles we are open to see the Lord in others and in the events around us. Without the cross there can be no reconversion. Historian David Knowles, in the last paragraph of his detailed analysis of the causes of the decline of monasticism in England in Tudor times, warns: "When once a religious or a religious order ceases to direct its sons to the abandonment of all that is not of God, and ceases to show them the rigors of the narrow way that leads to the imitation of Christ in his love, it sinks to the level of a purely human institution, and whatever its works may be they are the works of time and not of eternity.''57 The message is that of the Gospel. It is as valid today as it was in the English Tudor times. There is an ecclesial dimension to the reconversion of the religious. Religious congregations exist to serve the Church. And the Church exists to serve the world that .is today in revolutionary change. Any reconversion will involve a recommitment to the mission of the Church in this world. This means listening to what the needs of the world are; it Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 also includes the commitment to be bold in pastoral initiatives in response to these needs. Finally, reconversion involves the radical recommitment to the con-gregational mythology. The individual religious, united with Christ and inspired by the Holy Spirit, experiences the same kind of outrage that the founding person felt when he or she was confronted by the enormity of the chaos separating the Gospel on the one hand and the world in its need on the other. The reappropriation of the founding charism is first and fore-most the reliving of this original shock. The founding person's spirit breaks into our lives the moment we experience that shock. Anthropologist Bronislaw Malinowski justly speaks of myth as "a nar-rative resurrection of a primeval reality."s8 The primeval reality is the shock, the archetype, that belongs to sacred time or the time of the begin-ning that is relived here and now. The converting religious resurrects and relives the sacred time of the beginning once more in all its radicalness. At that point the founding charism lives again. The mythology is alive and active. Like the founding person, some of the reconverting religious will see what strategies are needed to help bridge the chaos. The people who have such gifts of insight and action are in fact re-founding persons, congrega-tional prophets. They should not be viewed as "loners" or "individualists" who lack a sense of community. Despite the very real danger of rejection by other religious, they retain a deep love of the found-ing mythology. They yearn, as did the founding persons, to draw others with them into a radical faith-community of congregational rebuilders. There is a fire in these people, a Gospel radicality that disturbs the com-placent, the spiritually leth-argic, those who have compromised with worldly values. Not all reconverting religious are called to be significant refounding persons. Most of us are rather called to exercise our discernment in discovering those among us who are gifted to be such people. Once these individuals have been spotted, our task is to join with them in aiding the congregation to move out of chaos into a new integration of the Gospel and the needs of the world.5" 3. Effective commitment to action: myth ritualization Myth is action as well as words. The action is the ritual dimension of the myth. Sacred time, primeval reality, breaks into life here and now. For myth ritualization there is required courage, a boldness of initiative and drive. In brief, an ongoing process of reconversion is necessary. In ritual we grab hold of the inner dynamism of the myth in action that is adapted to changed circumstances of time and place. Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life Of course, we need to be open to the fact that in our discernment we may discover it is actually God's will for our community, province or congregation to die. Gospel resignation in the face of even congregational death will be salvific, a badly needed witness to many contemporary cul-tures of how death must be faced. Most Western cultures do everything possible to avoid facing the reality of death-chaos. From a Christian point of view, active submission to the realities of one's own death-bound nature becomes an act of obedient surrender to the Father, a total com-mitment to the full power of faith, hope and love.~° As it is for each Christian, so it should be for a religious congregation that discerns it is God's will for it to die: "Father, into your hands I com-mend my spirit" (Lk 23:46). Summary Myth is always an effort to reveal or articulate, and so to make compre-hensible, some truth about the world and our life in it. This truth cannot be grasped or known fully in itself but is capable of being expressed in and through symbols. The myth should attempt to articulate transcendental reality, to give the meaning behind ever changing experi-ences that influence human life, "to pin down an Absolute in which the human mind can rest with some feeling of security."~' Myths become distorted or cease to exist for several reasons. In particular, myths die because they are no longer relevant or because people refuse the self-discipline required by the myth. Myths are liminal phenomena, that is, their retelling gives meaning and security to people in the midst of personal or cultural chaos. If people are prepared to adapt their myths to new circumstances, then they will break through chaos into new life, and their myths will become vital bnce more. Religious congregations have their own particular mythologies. Today congregations are in chaos. They are confused about what to do, how to revitalize, how to discover what God is asking of them. They may even be fearful of what God will ask, now that their once secure struc-tures have disappeared. For revitalization to occur there needs to be a retelling by religious of their congregational mythologies. This retelling, if it is to be something more than a hollow nostalgic or sentimental recital of past achievements, must emerge out of a process of myth interpretation/ reconversion/discernment. Reconversion is the wholehearted abandonment to the Father's will in imitation of Jesus who "emptied himself., obediently accepting even death on the cross"(Ph 2:7,8). It is the admission that oneself and one's 40/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 congregation have an absolute need of God who alone is the ultimate source of security and identity. When this abandonment takes place, then the experience of chaos or confusion within oneself and the congregation becomes creative. Through poverty of spirit, the religious finds a way to discover the presence of God, the Absolute, the ultimate figure revealing laimself in the congregational myth. Strengthened by this grace of reconversion, the religious and the congregation itself are prepared to discern God's will in their regard. Through discernment religious may discover that God wishes the congre-gation to die. The free acceptance of congregational death is a salvific action. Or discernment may reveal that the congregation should come alive through reliving the experience that gave birth to the original congregational charism, but adapted now to new needs and circum-stances. Reconversion, discernment and reappropriation of the founding experi-ence will not take place as long as religious are not prepared to face these questions: Do we deny the existence of chaos within and without? If we acknowledge chaos, am I and my congregation willing to acknowledge its positive potential? Are we prepared to face the self-abnegation and abandonment to God, with its naked faith darknesses, as the prerequisite for congregational resurrection? I suspect that many of us still deny the reality of chaos. If some of us do acknowledge the creative potential of chaos, then perhaps our answers to the two last questions are a half-hearted "yes." A pity. If only we could reply with a firm "yes," then we would be on the way to dis-covering the riches of our congregational mythology. The Church, and the world, would be richer for this discovery. In the beginning, when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless wasteland, and darkness covered the abyss . Then God said, "Let there be light. (Gn 1:1-3). NOTES ~ See Raimundo Panikkar, Myth, Faith and Hermeneutics: Cross-Cultural Studies (New York: Paulist Press, 1979). 2 See Paul Ricoeur, The Symbolism of Evil (Boston: Beacon Press, 1967), pp. 161ff, and Interpretation Theory: Discourse and the Surplus of Meaning (Fort Worth: Chris-tian University Press, 1976). Mythology, Revitalization and Refounding Religious Life ' See John L. McKenzie, Myths and Realities: Studies in Biblical Theology (London: Geoffrey Chapman, 1963), pp. 182-200. ' "Symbol, Myth and the Biblical Revelation" in Theological Studies. Vol. 27, No.l, 1966, p. 1. ~ Lawrence Cada, Raymond Fitz, et al., Shaping the Coming Age of Religious Life (New York: The Seabury Press, 1979), p. 6. 6 Morton T. Kelsey, Myth, History and Faith: The Demythologizing of Christianity (New York: Paulist Press, 1974), p. 5. 7 Thomas Fawcett, The Symbolic Language of Religion: An Introductory Study (London: SCM Press, 1970), p. 101. 8 See Barbara Sproul, Primal Myths: Creating the Worm (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1979), p. I. 9 Morton T. Kelsey, op. cit., p. 4. Also see Elie Wiesel, "Myth and History," in (ed) Alan M. Olson, Myth, Symbol and Reality (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1980), pp. 20-30. ~o See Bronislaw Malinowski, Magic, Science and Religion, and Other Essays (Glencoe, Illinois: Free Press, 1948), pp. 100f. " See Donald A. MacKenzie, The Migration of Symbols and Their Relations to Beliefs and Customs (New York: AMS Press, 1970), p. 5. '2Psychological Reflections: An Anthology of Writings, (ed) Jolande Jacobi (New York: Harper, 1953), p. 314. t~ See C.S. Kirk, Myth: Its Meaning and Functions in Ancient and Other Cultures (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1970), pp. 275-280; and Percy S. Cohen, "Theories of Myth" in Man: Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute Vol.4 No.3, 1969, p. 340. " Victor Turner, "Myth and Symbol" in International Encyclopedia of Social Sci-ences (Assen: Van Gorcum, 1977), Vol. 10, p. 579. ~ See (ed) Richard Cavendish, Mythology: An Illustrated Encyclopedia (New York: Rizzoli 1980), pp. 10f. For Freudian view see O. Rank, The Myth of the Birth of the Hero (New York: Robert Brunner, 1952), passim. ~6 See P. S. Cohen, op. cit., p. 341. ~7 See Richard Cavendish, op. cit., p. i !. ,8 Totemism (Boston: Beacon Press, 1963), p. 104; also Myth and Meaning (New York: Schocken Books, 1979), passim. For critique see Edmund Leach, The Struc-tural Study of Myth and Totemism (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1967), passim. ~ See Victor Turner, The Ritual Process: Structure and Anti-Structure (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1969), pp. 96f. 2o Quoted in A.W. Reed, Treasury of Maori Folklore (Wellington: A.H. and A.W. Reed, 1963), p. 19. 2~ For overview, see B.C. Sproul, op. cit., pp. 5ft. "2The Sacred and the Profane (New York: Harcourt, 1959), p. 95. 23 See Leonard J o Biallas, Myths, Gods, Heroes and Saviors (Mystic, CT: Twenty- Third Publications, 1986), p. 24. 2, See B. Malinowski, op. cit., pp. 100f. ~ See L.J. Biallas, op. cit., pp. 258-282. 26 See Christel Lane, The Rites of Rulers: Ritual in Industrial Society -- the Soviet Case (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981), passim. ~7 See T. Fawcett, op. cit., p. 98. 42/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 '" Ibid, p. 277. '" Ibid, p. 98. .,0 See Victor Turner, "Myth and Symbol," op. cit., p. 576. ~' 7 Jan. 1985, p. 26. '~" Ibid, p. 20. See insights also by Christopher E Mooney, Religion and the Ameri-can Dream: The Search for Freedom Under God (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1977), pp. 17-60. ~ lbid, p. 23. ~' See lan Craib, Modern Social Theory: From Parsons to Habermas (Brighton: Wheat-sheaf, 1984), pp. 115-119. According to The New York Times (14 July 1985) Rambo was invoked at least a dozen times in the discussion on the aid to Afghanistan. Also comments in The Economist (UK), I I Jan. 1986, p. 12. '~ See T. Fawcett, pp. 52-54. .,6 V. Turner uses the expression "root paradigm." See hnage and Pilgrimage in Chris-tian Culture: Anthropological Perspectives (New York: Columbia University Press, 1978), pp. 248f. 37 See L.J. Biallas, op. cit., p. 20. 3, Op. cit., pp. 100f. '~ Op. cit., p. 95. ~0 See B.S. Sproul, op. cit., pp. 27f. ~ Ibid. ,2 See Andrew M. Greeley, The Jesus Myth (New York: Doubleday, 1971), p. II and passim. ~ See Lumen Gentium, par. 44. ~" A Gospel Path: The Religious Life (Brussels: Lnmen Vitae 1975), p. 101. ,s Ibid, p. 94. ,6 Followers of Christ: The Religious Life and the Church (Exeter: Burns and Oates, 1978), p. 12. ,7 See Raymond Hostie, S.J., The Life and Death of Religious Orders': A Psycho- Sociological Approach (Washington, DC: Cara, 1983), pp. 252-272. ~ Western Society and the Church in the Middle Ages (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1970) p. 237. '~ The Religious Orders in England, Vol.3, The Tudor Age (Cambridge: University Press, 1959), p. 198. so "Vatican II and the Church's Response" in Theology Digest Vol. 32, No. 4, 985. ~' See R. Hostie, op. cit., pp. 248,251,269-275. Also G.A. Arbuckle, "lncultura-tion and Evangelization: Realism or Romanticism?" in (ed) Darrell L. Whiteman, Missionaries, Anthropologists and Cultural Change (Williamsburg: Studies in Third World Societies,1985), pp. 176-186. s2 See G.A. Arbuckle, "The Evolution of a Mission Policy: A Case Study (Marist Fathers)," in Missiology, Vol. 14, No. 2, 1986, pp. 131-145. s.~ See G.A. Arbuckle, "Refounding Congregations from Within: Anthropological Reflections," in REview Fo~ R~.~.l~ous, Vol. 45, No. 4, pp. 538-553. ~' See Francis, E. George, O.M.I., "Founding 'Founderology'," in R~vmw For~ R~t6~oos, Vol. 36, No. I, 1977, pp. 40-48. ' ~s For discernment explanation see John C. Futrell, S.J., "lgnatian Discernment" in Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits, St. Louis, April, 1970. Spirituality of Jesuits, St. Louis, May, 1982, passim. Mythology, Revitalization and Religious Life/43 ~ See Magic, Science and Religion, op. cit., p. 101. ~" See comments by R. Hostie, op. cit., pp. 257ff. See helpful insights by John W. Gardner, Self-Renewal: The Individual and the Innovative Society (N.Y.: W.W. Norton, 1981), pp. xi-xviii and passim. ~o Johannes B. Metz, Poverty of Spirit (N.Y.: Paulist, 1986), p. 46. 6~ R.A. MacKenzie, S.J., Faith and History in the Old Testament (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1963), pp. 63f. Christ the Center of Our Vowed Life by Boniface Ramsey, O.P. Father Ramsey's three articles on the vows of religion'are available as a single reprint: i - The Center of Religious Poverty ii - Christocentric Celibacy iii - Cruciform Obedience Price: $1.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St, Louis, Misso~Jri 63108 Images of a Novice Director Melannie Svoboda, S.N.D. Sister Melannie Svoboda became novice director after receiving her Masters in "For-mative Spirituality" from Duquesne University. She may be addressed at Notre Dame Educational Center; 13000 Auburn Road; Chardon, Ohio 44024. For the past four years I have been novice director for my religious com-munity. During these years I have often reflected on what my ministry means to me. I have also shared with other directors our ideas and feelings about our unique role in community. This article is an outgrowth of that personal and shared reflection. It attempts to explore the question, "How does it feel to be a novice director today?" In doing this, I have resorted to the use of images. Although there are many images I could have selected, I have chosen four that I feel convey something essential about the role of novice director. I hope these images provide encouragement for others involved in forma-tion work. I also hope the ideas presented here might help those not directly involved in formation to a better understanding of this ministry. The In-Between Door The first image that comes to my mind when I think of my ministry is "the in-between door." Let me explain. In our provincial house the novitiate is located on the third floor. On that same floor is another wing called St. Anne's where many of our elderly and retired sisters have their bedrooms. Between the novitiate and St. Anne's is a set of double doors. One day, after recreation with the novices, I passed through those doors on my way to another part of the building. As I did, I passed two elderly sisters who were on their way to their rooms. One was using a cane; the 44 Images of a Novice Director/45 other was holding on to the railing along the wail. The sharp contrast between the novices and these elderly sisters struck me. I suddenly thought: being a novice director is a lot like being a door between two very different wings of the same building. In other words, I realized that a novice director is very much an "in-between person." Age wise, many of us directors do stand "in between" the younger and older members of our communities. Ministry-wise, we stand "in between," too. As members of our community, we bring to our ministry years of lived experience as religious. We have a sense of our com-munity's history and traditions, its successes and apparent failures, its struggles and joys, and its hopes and expectations for the future. On the other hand, as directors we come to know the novices well. We learn of their personal histories, their past successes and failures, their struggles and joys, and their hopes and expectations for the future. Thus, we stand "in between." As directors, we are aware of our respon-sibility to communicate to the novices what religious life is in general and how our particular community gives expression to that life. But we also sense a corresponding responsibility, to a certain extent, to convey to the larger community who the new members are and what they are bringing to religious life. Such an "in-between position" can be both painful and exciting. It can be painful because it has its own built-in tension. As novice directors, we sometimes feel "caught in the middle" or even "torn apart." We find ourselves thinking or saying to our fellow religious: "If only you could see how much the novice is struggling with right now, how much goodwill there is in her, you would be far more patient and understand-ing." Similarly, we find ourselves saying to our novices: "If only you could appreciate more what we have gone through as a community and what we have experienced in the past, you would not be so quick to judge." But being "in between" is exciting, too. As novice directors, we have a unique perspective on religious life. Many times we may be asked to explain or defend what the novices may or may not be doing. Like-wise, we may be asked to explain or defend the traditions and attitudes of the professed community. We can welcome this "in-between-ness" since it affords us the challenge to reassess continuously our values and priorities or simply to articulate our beliefs anew. The Big "Meannie" Several years ago I was teaching film study to high school seniors. One day a film arrived addressed to me. But there was a typing error on 46/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 the label. The letter "!" had been left out of my name, so instead of saying Sister Melannie the label read Sister Meannie. I laughed at that mistake back then, but, since becoming novice director, I have sometimes felt that I had been changed from Sister Melannie to Sister Meannie. Another novice director echoed this same feeling when she said to me recently: "I used to be a nice person. But since becoming novice director, I feel I've become an ogre." There are a number of factors that contribute to this feeling. Within the past several years there has been a movement in many religious com-munities to involve the larger community more in the initial formation pro-cess. Professed members have a greater sense of their personal responsibil-ity for welcoming and encouraging new members. Such a trend is basically very good. Like all of us, the novices need affirmation in order to grow, and today we see the larger community more and more provid-ing this affirmation. But the novices need to be challenged, too. They need to come to a healthy awareness of their weaknesses and shortcomings. Although the professed community does help out in this area, nevertheless, the primary responsibility for doing this lies usually with the director. One director explained it this way: "Novices are so few these days that sometimes the sisters bend over backwards to make the novice feel accepted. They do nothing but praise the novice -- I'm the one who has to tell her the things she doesn't want to hear." A few examples might clarify this. Perhaps a novice is lively and witty -- two characteristics that, in themselves, seem attractive. The pro-fessed might continuously affirm these qualities in the novice. But I, as director, might begin to see that the novice's liveliness reflects a deep need to be the center of attention. Her wit might reveal a lack of sensitiv-ity to the feelings of others. As director, I have to lead her to this aware-ness. That is hard to do. No one likes to bear bad news. No one enjoys confronting others on this level. But what makes it possible for us is to see such a confrontation within the context of love. Often I find myself asking the question; "Do I love her enough to be honest with her?" The Island In her Gift from the Sea, Anne Morrow Lindbergh writes (p. 40): '"No man is an island,' said John Donne. I feel we are all islands -- in a common sea." I agree with Lindbergh that we are all islands. But we novice directors can experience our "islandness" in very sharp and often painful ways. There are several factors that can contribute to the novice director's Images of a Novice Director/47' feelings of isolation. First, there's the simple fact that there are not too many novice directors to begin with. With the decline in the number of novices, there is a corresponding decrease in the number of directors. As a result, we directors have few "colleagues." This situation can lead to the feeling that no one really understands our unique stresses and frustra-tions. This sense of isolation can be intensified by the decisions we are called upon to make. Perhaps the most difficult decision in our ministry is the decision that a novice does not belong in religious life. Making such a decision, especially when there are so few novices to begin with, can increase a director's sense of aloneness or even rejection by the larger community. Fortunately there are steps we can take to ease our "islandness." In my diocese of Cleveland, for example, we formation directors meet regu-larly not only to plan our inter-novitiate program, but also to share ideas and experiences informally. There are regional and national organizations we can plug into as well as periodicals (such as this one) to which we can subscribe. Support groups are very popular today. Those of us involved in formation need such a support group in order for us to minister effectively and happily. The Gardener When I became novice director, I simultaneously began to grow some African violets. Perhaps something deep inside of me sensed a connection between ministering to novices and caring for plants -- I wasn't sure. But I received a few clippings from my mother and, within a relatively short time, I had a number of healthy looking violets. Now I know for sure: caring for these African violets is very similar to being a novice director. If there's one thing a good gardener knows, it's this: the gardener does not cause the plants to grow and flourish; he or she can only assist in their development. A good gardener is more observer than doer, more admirer than cause. The same is true for novice directors. Over and over again we have to remind ourselves that God is the formation director. We are mere assistants. This attitude of dependence and trust in God is not only fundamental for our ministry, it is refreshingly freeing. As directors, we can worry too much. We can become too impatient with a novice's apparent slow devel-opment. We may find ourselves saying: "She should be farther along by now," or "Prayer should mean more to him at this stage." Sometimes we can be tempted to intervene too much, to say too much, to control too much. Like a bad gardener, we may handle too much, water too much, Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 and fertilize tOO much, thus causing more harm than good. But our experience in formation soon leads us to trust more in God -- in his way, in his time -- than in our own expertise. One of the great-est joys as novice director is being privy to tremendous growth in our directees -- growth thht sometimes occurs not according to the "law," but even seemingly contrary to the "law." This truth was brought home to me recently by one of my "baby" African violets. When I started this plant from a cutting, I knew I would have to wait many months, perhaps even a year, before I could expect to see any blossoms. But this particu-lar African violet surprised me. After only several weeks, although its leaves were extremely tiny, this plant produced not one, but two giant purple blossoms. The plant, by all rules, was far too young and immature to produce such splendid flowers, yet, there they were, beautiful to behold. That "infant" African violet is a reminder to me that, as novice director, I have to be ready for surprises in my ministry. The in-between door, the big "meannie," an island, a gardener. These are four images that come to my mind when I reflect on my ministry as novice director. When we use images to try to explain the essentially unexplainable, we are in good company, for Jesus himself resorted to images time and time again: "The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed., is like a buried treasure., is like yeast., is like a drag-net thrown into the lake." I hope these few images I have used, though incomplete and imperfect, might help draw us more deeply into the mys-tery of our formation ministry. Prayer for Peace Give me to see, O Lord, By Faith's clear vision, Troth that to other sight at best is dim. Grant me to know, O Lord, By Love's deep wisdom, Peace in the Cross, Christ in the Sign of Him. Sister Cecilia Ward, S.C. Sacred Heart Convent-- 6225 Walnut Street Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15206 Surrender: The Key to Wholeness William A. Barry, S.J. This is Father Barry's third article on the theme of "a peculiar sort of resistance to God." He continues to work in the formation of novices and may be addressed at Saint Andrew House; 300 Newbury Street; Boston, Massachusetts 02115. In two recent articles' I have discussed a peculiar sort of resistance to God, a resistance that seems to be the avoidance of good experiences. Recently in a prayer group discussion I received some more light on this puzzling phenomenon which I would like to share with the readers of this review, z Have you ever wondered about people like Bartimaeus, the blind beggar who receives his sight (Mk 10:46-51)? Did it ever occur to you that they might not want to be healed? Well it has occurred to me because there have been times when I have not wanted inner healing -- the heal-ing of resentment at a personal loss, for example. As a result I have thought that people like Bartimaeus have a rather remarkable kind of courage and hope in the future to want to be healed. Let us reflect on what it must have meant for Bartimaeus as he pon-dered the question Jesus put to him, "What do you want me to do for you?" If he allows himself to want his sight, two possibilities open up. His hopes could be dashed if it proves impossible for Jesus to fulfill his desires. Often enough, I believe, we limit our desires precisely so that we will not be too disappointed. On the other hand, he could actually receive his sight. But what then? After all, he now has an identity that revolves around being a blind beggar. Who will he be if he is no longer blind? He knows how to cope with who he now is; he makes a living and he gets attention and perhaps even pity from others. How will he live as a sighted person? Suppose that a great deal of his vital energy is fueled 49 50/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 by resentment of the trick life has played on him. What will it be like not to have that resentment? His friends will have to learn new ways of deal-ing with him as well. Indeed, they may not be willing or able to make the transition to relating to a man who is no longer handicapped. All of this may seem quite fanciful. Yet any counselor or spiritual director can testify that there is in us some power that is inherently con-servative, that wants the status quo to be preserved no matter how painful that status quo is. I may be between a rock and a hard place, but it is my rock and my hard place, and I know how to cope with the situation. Leaving it is very difficult, no matter how painful it also is to stay. Can we make sense of this difficulty that works against even desiring a change to something better? I have already pointed to one source of the difficulty. My identity can be wrapped up in my present status, whether that status is "blind beggar," "jil.ted lover," "bereaved husband," "unloved child," "unappreciated coworker," or whatever. To give up the identity may seem like giving up one's only self. Moreover, as already indicated, I have built up around this identity ways of coping with life, and even of earning a living. To change means to face an unknown, and perhaps worse future. There is, perhaps, a more subtle source of resistance as well. Freudian analysts speak of the covert gratification neurotic symptoms bring to the one who has them. There can be covert sexual and/or aggressive gratification, for example, in a wife's agoraphobia (fear of open spaces) because her husband has to stay at home more with her -- and also has to do the shopping. Suicidal people have been known to get gratification from the thought of making others guilty, miserable, even sick by their deaths. It may be that all of the status quos which we find so hard to give up provide some covert gratification. For example, Bartimaeus might well wonder whether anyone will pay attention to him if he is no longer blind. Again, to want to be healed of the resentment caused by a friend's hurtful remarks may mean that I will have to give up the covert hope that my friend is feeling pangs of remorse. We come close to the central insight I received at the prayer group. To want to be healed, to be changed, to become more whole means to surrender to life and to the future. The surrender involves two distinct, but interrelated movements, I believe. On the one hand, it means accept-ing my past as precisely what it is, my past. On the other hand, it means surrendering myself to the mystery of the future, ultimately to the Mys-tery we call God. We will look at each of these movements in turn. Bartimaeus must have accepted his past. He is a blind man, a blind Surrender: the Key to Wholeness beggar. He does not seem to wallow in resentment at what life has done to him; if he did, he would not have been able to ask so forcibly for his sight. To come to this point of acceptance he may have had to go through all the stages of grief described so well by Kubler-Ross.3 He may have denied his blindness, raged at it, at life, and at God, bargained with God, and become depressed. But now he has accepted that he is blind. And yet it is accepted as somehow past, as not controlling his freedom now, his freedom to desire a change. "Master, let me receive my sight." It is important to grasp the full impact of what it means for Bartimaeus, or anyone of us, to accept the past. It does not mean a stoic impassivity toward life. It does not mean a rosy optimism either. Life has dealt Bartimaeus a cruel blow, as it has dealt cruel blows to many people. Children have been subjected to abusive, unloving and unskilled parenting and have been psychically and spiritually scarred as a result. Loved ones have tragically and permanently been parted, and the surviv-ors are wounded deeply. To accept the past does not mean to condone everyone and everything. But it does mean to forgive in some deep way. SCren Kierkegaard makes a powerful statement while commenting on the biblical story of Tobias and Sarah. Recall that Sarah has become a mockery to her own maid because seven men had died on their marriage night to her. Now Tobias has asked to marry her. Many see Tobias as the hero. "No," says Kierkegaard: It is Sarah that is the heroine . For what love of God it requires to be willing to let oneself be healed when from the beginning one has been thus bungled without one's fault, from the beginning one has been an abortive specimen of humanity! What ethical maturity was required for assuming the responsibility of allowing the loved one to do such a daring deed! What humility before the face of another person! What faith in God to believe that the next instant she would not hate the hus-band to whom she owed everything!4 To accept the past as my past brings a freedom from it. But freedom does not mean that I am no longer the person that past has made me. Bartimaeus is who he is because he has been a blind beggar. So too, Sarah is who she is because of her.history of marriages. Another example is supplied by a response of a young man who was born a hemophiliac; at any moment of his life he could bleed to death from a simple cut. He was asked whether he wished that he had not had the illness. "How can I -- or anyone -- wish that the most important thing that ever happened to me had not happened? It is like saying that I wish I had been born on another planet, so different would I probably be. Put it this way: I would not have it any other way." 5 52/Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1987 And yet with this acceptance there also comes a freedom from the past. Bartimaeus is free of the imprisoning identity: "blind beggaL" Even if he does not receive his sight, he is free to become blind Bartimaeus the poet, or blind Bartimaeus the husband of Mary, or blind Bartimaeus the follower of Jesus. Just as the young hemophiliac can, by accepting his past, become a doctor, a teacher, a husband who also hap-pens to be hemophiliac. To accept the past as my past means to accept a future limited by my past, but nonetheless a future. Erik Erikson calls his final developmental stage the crisis between ego integrity and despair. Ego integrity or wisdom is described in this way: "It is the acceptance of one's one and only life cycle as something that had to be and that, by necessity, permitted of no substitutions: it thus means a new, a different love of one's parents."6 Such wisdom, Erikson maintains, leads, to freedom from the inordinate fear of death. And this may be the crux of th

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

Issue 38.5 of the Review for Religious, 1979. ; REVIEW FOR RE~.~(;~OUS (ISSN (~)34-639X). published bi-monthly (every two months), is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis. MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute: St. Louis. Missouri. © 1979 By REVIEW FOR RE~.~;~OUS. Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis. Missouri. Single copies: $2.0(I. Subscription U.S.A.: $8.00 a year: $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year. $17.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REv,~-:w VOR RE~.~;~OtJS: P.O. Box 6070: Duluth. Minnesota 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor September, 1979 Volume 38 Number 5 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to R~:v~v:w r'on Rv:~Ac,~oos; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues ahd articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Detachment in the Ascent of( Mount Carmel'. an Appreciation Judson Mather Dr. Mather, father of a large family and active in Catholic life Jn campus, is Associate Professor in the Department of Humanities of Michigan State Universitty. His address: 547 Charles St.; East Lansing, M148823. [ Whatever its actual content and overt interest, W.H. Auden said, every poem is rooted in imaginative awe. This is a dictum, worth keeping in mind in approaching St. John of the Cross. For John of the Cross was a contempla-tive, a poet, and a mystical theologian--in that order. His poetry flowed from his lived experience as a man of prayer and was the most immediate ex-pression of that experience. The Ascent of Mo~unt Carmel and the other works of mystical theology which he wrote are all c~ast as commentaries on his poetry. The books, of course, reveal other sides ~f his remarkable gifts: his sharp, systematic mind, for instance, and the exte~nt to which he was steeped in the Scriptures. But behind this always stands tt .~ imaginative awe commu-nicated in the poetry. The whole of the Ascent, adeed' is the exposition of one brief stanza: In the midst of a dark night, Yearnihg, and with love alight -- Ah, sheer fortune's fill! -- 1 went out hidden from all si ;ht, At last my dwelling being still. ¯ Author's translation. Prose passages quoted in the following pages are the E. Allison Pee~ translation: St. John of the Cross, Ascent of Mount Carmel (Garden City, N.Y.: Image Books, 1958). 641 649 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 Book One of the Ascent surveys this stanza as a whole; Books Two and Three concentrate in great detail on the "dark night" spoken of in the first line. He expounds the dark night of faith, which entails a. darkening of knowledge; the dark night of hope, which is accompanied byan obscuring 6f the memory; and the dark night of love which brings with it the dark night of the will. The poetic touchstone of the Ascent is important because throughout the book John is using the central metaphore of his poem -- a dark night-- as the symbol of his central theme: detachment. If we lose sight of the imagina-tive link here, we are also apt to miss his central insight that detachment is the gift of grace -- "sheer fortune" -- and not an accomplishment. The problem is not that the theme of detachment is obscured or buried in the text of the book. On the contrary, John seems to go at the dark night of detachment with a thoroughness, a grim relish, that could strike us as being masochistic. We find him, for example, telling us to "strive always to prefer" the most difficult rather than the easiest, the most unpleasant rather than the delectable, the wearisome rather than the restful, the worst of temporal things rather than the best. "Let the soul strive to work in its own despite, and desire all to do so" (Iil 3/6.,9). No one would urge that detachment is an easy matter. But wh~t is missing from passages such as these (and there are quite a few) is the sense of imagi-native awe communicated in the poetry. Where this sense of awe is lacking, there seems to be a suggestion that detachment is some kind of self-improve-ment project. This can hardly be the case. Self-preoccupation certainly was "~/ not something John wanted to instill in his re'~-~-d~:s; least ~-f-~]"would he re(-'. ommend the warped and twisted spiritual pride of masochism. Quite the con-trary, the whole issue he addresses in treating detachment is the issue of how God goes about cracking the hard shell of our egotism, so that the light of Christ can shine within. Much of therproblem I suspect, is the gulf between the culture in which we live and the culture within which -- and for which -- John wrote. John's way of discussing detachment was imbued with the rough-and-tumble individual-ism of six~teenth-century Spain. It was the world of the conquistadores and Don Qui, xote (who may have been mad but was not cowardly). It was what the anthropologists call a "courage culture," where one's very sense of being someone was apt to be tied up with his demonstrated bravery. Ignatius Loyola, the founder of the Jesuits, for example, was a soldier in the days before his conversion. His leg was smashed by a cannonball. He had it broken and reset- twice, without anesthetic- so that he could once again cut a good figure in the hose stockings that gentlemen of the day wore. Nor did John of the Cross himself lead a sheltered life. There was a great struggle going on between the Caiced and the Reformed Carmelites; John had left the Calced Carmelites and joined the Reformed. Twice he was kidnapped by the Calceds. The second time he was imprisoned in a six-by-ten-foot windowless Detachment in the Ascent of Mount Carmel / 64:3 room; three times a week he was taken out-and beaten in the refectory for his stubborn refusal to renounce his Reformed vows. Only after a year and a half or so of :this treatment was he able to escape and return to the Reformed order~ Because John was writing in and for this kind of world, it is not surprising that he said tough-minded things in a tough-minded way. But detachment, not."assertiveness training," was his concern. We need not get bogged down in the individualistic, courage-culture way he talked about detachment. There are other traditions of detachment in the Church we can turn to for guidance in these matters. The much older Rule of St. Benedict, for example, treats the root and fruit of discipline as social rather than individual. That is, the touch-stone of detachment is not a matter of preferring the worst or the best or something in between. It is .living in a kindly and generous way with those rub shoulders with all the time. This may be less spectacular than preferringrr the worst, but it's not necessarily less demanding. The "dark night" of which John speaks begins with what we would prob-ably call a "difficulty in mental prayer." The difficulty emerges as a sense of deprivation. Prayer dries up. One loses, as it were, the capacity to think and pray at the same time. With this loss comes a loss of relish for prayer, the loss of a capacity to enjoy it, One seems to be losing hold of what he has most deeply desired. With this, not surprisingly, there also comes a sense of losing the way. One doesn't know where he's going. '.'~Progress" seems to have come up against a brick wail. Beneath all this, there's a loss of the sense of who God is -- and more directly who Godis in relation to one's self. Is faith itself evaporating away? This experience is probably fairly widespread, and can and does lead to giving up the whole business -- faith, prayer and the rest of it -- as a bad job. We can come to think of it all as a delusion -- and indeed there may well be a sense of relief that comes of thinking of it in this way. But the relief is bitter-sweet. Even Sartre, the atheist-existentialist, says that the world without God is a forlorn world, John goes beyond a perception of forlornness. He points out that what makes this darknes~ so paradoxical and so painful is that the dark night d6scends at the same time as one is "yearning, and with love alight." The sense of the loss of God's presence is accompanied by a deep longing for God. If this paradoxical and painful state is endured, John says, something happens. He calls it "sheer fortune." Now sheer fortune isn't something we do. It's something that "happens," unexpectedly. Such a happening, I want to stress, is not what we would normally call an experience. It only becomes an experience in retrospect--where we can look back on it and say, "Yes. That happened." What happens is described by. John in the second half of the stanza. "I went out hidden from all sight / At last my dwelling being still." In the midst 644 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 of obscurity and darkness, paradox and pain, while we were not observing it--indeed precisely because we were not observing it m we were drawn forth from ourselve.s_:__T_~e_.gi~ft of self-forgetfulness was somehow bestowed on the °lS~'~tered ego. ~,n"n'-d--~we ~-~ r--~-o-~, ~-l~rely, that this was indeed "sheer fortune." It was what down deep we really wanted all along anyway, while we were looking elsewhere for some other kind of answer. This, I believe, is the context for John's strong emphasis on detachment in Book One. Rightly used, detachment is a way of coming to grips with reali-ty- of getting our desires into order with reality instead of with illusion. Such an ordering is important to the contemplative prayer John describes be-cause the reality we are facing here is the reality of darkness. What we need is not a change of scene or the return of old feelings. We need the grace of en-durance. And that, of course, is what God is providing. John puts the point in a powerful metaphor: the Israelites, he says, "failed to find in the manna all the sweetness and strength they could wish, not because it was not con-tained in the manna, but because they desired some other thing" 0/5/4). There's a whole commentary of life in this sentence. It's easy to become so preoccupied with what God is not providing that we neglect to notice what he is providing. This is not to say that the grace of endurance will be experienced as some-thing noble and admirable. It's more likely to be a matter of stumbling on, we know not how. We wonder if we really should have meant to offer our-selves to God, and if he isn't asking of us more than we are able to give. This shouldn't be surprising. Our sense of an inability to cope on our own strength is an education in humility -- which is a good part of what we are up to in the first place. Of course, we'd prefer some other sort of education. We'd rather learn humility without humiliation. But that's not usually the way in which reality works. The point here also can be put in a more positive way. Detachment is important to contemplative prayer because contemplative prayer is a being called forth by reality-- the Reality, God himself. It's an adventure with all the danger as well as all the challenge that adventure implies. Because God is the Reality, he is so vast and awesome, so intimate and penetrating, that there is little if anything in our previous experience that corresponds to what has come upon us. So the expectation of the unknown, the surprising, the fright-ening conforms to the reality of the situation in which we find ourselves. Detachment is crucial to dealing with this because in the darkness we must continually be sorting things out. We need to sort the things that matter more from the things that matter less as we go along this unknown way. There are two further points to make about contemplative detachment. First, contemplative detachment is not passivity. It's an active wanting of what God wants in the particular, concrete circumstances in which we stand. It means not sitting back, but responding, to the particular moment, with all its opportunities and all its limitations. Second, contemplative detachment is Detachment in the Ascent of Mount Carmel / 645 not a cold, independent, isolated thing. Rather it's a matter of freely giving up as a part of freely giving. It is a willingness to take the risk of being shat-tered, of abiding in a shattered state--and of abiding with others in their shattered state as well. There is no other contemplative way. The shattered state is where the "sheer fortune of going out hidden from all sight" occurs. As we move from Book One to Book Two, it becomes apparent that de-tachment is central in contemplative prayer, and not just a preparation for it. That is, we don't let go of material things in order to grasp and possess spirit-ual things. The crux of contemplative prayer is a deep spiritual detachment. There is a reason for this. If the term, "spiritual growth" means any-thing, it means a growth "into Christ" m a being called forth into deeper union with him. And here the Christ of the Gospel confronts us with the uni-ty of his teaching and his deeds. When he said, "he who would save his life will lose it, and he who will lose his life for my sake will find it," he was giv-ing a commentary on what he himself was in the midst of doing in relation to his Father. He did not do o]ae thing so that we could do something else. He did one thing so we could do the same thing. He did not say "Take up your cross and go your own way," but "Take up your cross and follow me." The theological pivot of Book Two of the Ascent is Chapter Seven. Here John turns to a central paradox and mystery of the faith: Christ's utter deso-lation at the transformative moment of redemption on the Cro~s. There, out of annihilation, flows fullness of life. This is to say (among other things) that the wellspring of faith in Christ is the faith of Christ: his utter faith in his Father's goodness and triumphant strength. The issue here is not just theory, but practice as well. The story of the Garden oi' Eden--whatever else it means- is a story about the practical doubt of huhaankind in God's complete and trustworthy goodness. The story is universal because this doubt has had practical ramifications throughout history and throughout each one's life. It is universal, but not final. The Good News of Christ addresses the practical doubt of Eden. It proclaims that in Christ doubt is mended by its re~,ersal: Christ's practical trust in his Father's goodness to and beyond the point of death itself. As we are drawn toward union with Christ, we come to the faith that darkens our knowledge and supplants our reason. There grows on us a deep sense of the inadequacy and inoperativeness of our knowledge when it comes face to face with these issues which matter most of all. The theological sense of the~Unity of desolation and fruitfulness in Christ's saving work is no longer just an object of our knowledge. It overshadows us and lays hold of us direct-ly. John describes this transformative darkening in terms of the nearness of God -- it is like, he says, the nearness of fire to a burning log. A more human analogy of nearness may be more to the point for us. Humanly speaking, the full richness of faith is not so much belief in certain facts as a matter of loyal- 6415 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 ty and trust directed toward a person. Now, up to a certain point we can say why we trust a person. But the explanation of that trust is not the substance of it. The substance of it is the trust itself. Indeed, there is a kind of propor-tionality operating here. The more we need reasons, the less there is of trust; the more the trust, the more peripheral and inadequate the reasons seem. As trust grows, we find it bec.oming more mysterious.--going (as John would say) to what we know not by a way we know not. We can~su.spect that com-plete trust would have no need of reasons: it simply is. In prayer, the supplanting of reason and knowledge by the dark night of faith explains why meditation dries up. This is as it should be." Meditation is an exercise of the imagination, and as John says, "although a man imagines palaces of pearls and mountains of gold, because he has seen gold and pearls, all this is in truth less than~ the essence of a little gold or a single pearl" (II/12/4). The greatest imaginary thing is less than the least of the real. And what is being offered in the prayer of the dark night is a touch of the real. To try to hang onto the imaginary under such circumstances is to thwart the working of reality. It is desiring some other thing. This is important, because whfit is experienced in contemplative prayer -- certainly at first and probably for a long time--is more the loss than the gain. John speaks of the "prayer of loving attention." But this does not mean that we're likely to feel loving and attentive. Rather it's a matter of somehow trusting God's love and attentiveness. Much of John's exposition in Book Two is directed toward showing why it's right that this should be so. Here as so often, he goes directly to the root of the matter. He points out that theologically there is a finality about God's word when the Word himself became flesh and dwelt among us. Christ's life and teaching, as remembered and recorded by the faithful community, is full, c6mplete, and adequate. We need nothing more. Thus any qtlest for or reliance upon special signs or revelation or experience in prayer is wrong. Such prayer.-.experience either confirms what is already there -- in which case it is basically superfluous -- or else it is different from what is already there. In that case it is positively misleading. And in either case it reveals a certhin lack of faith -- a doubt that the full glory of God has already been revealed in Christ. Indeed, Jol{n sa3is that even if special experience in prayer were a good thing, it~is less of a good .thing than the pure dark night of faith. For it's only in this night that faith is maintained, noui'ished and increased. So we come upon one of the central paradoxes of contemplative prayer. It can genuinely seem--feel--lower and lesser. It canseem like a waste of timg, nothing at all. This is so because'its substance is simply that of a~tively willing whatever it is that God wants. This is a choice, and a choice that has to be continually remade. But it is not a matter of looking for or asking for something special for our own unique case: it is an intent toward trust. It is wanting to pra} without setting qualifications or conditions on what we ex-pect God to do with our offering of prayer. Detachment in the Ascent of Mount Carmel / 64Z In the Third Book of the Ascent,~ John moves on to discuss the dark nights of hope and love. For it is, John says, not just our knowledge but our memory and will as well that are overshadowed in the dark night of contem-plation. Here again, as in the dark night of faith, John's exposition aims at show-ing why this seeming loss is in fact the onset of a new and deeper freedom. That darkness attends hope is built into the very nature of hope itself. For hope, by definition, is for what we do not possess. The more specific hope is, the narrower its boundaries. The "purer" hope is, the less qualified and structured it is -- the more completely open to God. And the more complete the hope, the greater the darkness and mystery. Memoi'y provides the images by which we structure and limit experience. As we go by a way we know not to a place we know not, memory becomes in-creasingly useless as a guide and judge. For we more clearly recognize memo-ry for what it is: our distorted images and pictures, not the reality we seek. And yet we do not know, in having to let go of the help memory once brought, whether we are letting' go of everything J of our very self, ,It's an emptying even more searching than the dark night of faith. Yet such darkness is the right way. If God is in the process of making all things new- of t'ransforming us- we don't want to set boundaries to his activity. Qur business is to "let go." Of course, this is not to say that we can will such letting go and make it happen. Even if that were possible, it would just be possessiveness operatin~ on a deeper and more subtle level. The gift we await can only arrive on the o~her side of the memories we control and possess: arrive as a happy chance. The dark night of love J and its accompanying night of the will -- is the mo~t searching and awesome darkness of ~ill. It is also the most crucial. For without this final darkness and detachment, all that has gone before goes for fiau~ht. This is so because the° love of God is what the whole human enterprise of living and praying is about in the first place. And the ultimate calling of God's love is to a letting go of all the barriers we have to receiving and giving. It is arriving at a point where w.e have nothing to protect from God's own searching and limitless openness t6 giving and r~ceiving. Tl~e experience of this, however, is far more apt to be like falling com-pletely through the bottom--into complete loss, into nothingness. John links the dark night of the will with {he prayer of Gethsemahe which stands at the heart of the Lord's prayer: "Thy will, not mine, be~done.'' There is no other way. Practically speaking, wanting to love God most of all is a matter of wanting to w~int what God wants most of all, whatever that is. The cost is real. John puts his finger on this when he characterizes the dark night of the will as a le'ttin~g go of joy--joy remembered, joy experi-enced, joy hoped for. Darkness indeed, f6r how can we experience the letting go qfjoy as something other than the letting go of love itself? But it's not the letting go of love; "it's the letting go of control. Falling 648 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 through the bottom can be a fall into an unsuspected world of freedom, a new recognition of a capacity for joy. William Blake epitomized it in "Eternity:" He who bends to himself a joy Does the winged life destroy. But he who kisses the joy as it flies Lives in eternity's sunrise. We come to recognize that possession is not God's business. We can talk, I suppose, about being "possessed by the devil." But we aren't possessed by God; we're loved by him, with all the freedom and mutuality that love im-plies. Our freedom lies in the recognition that he will enable us to respond in kind. In the dark night of love the need to possess and hang on have somehow been swallowed up. As John says, we can begin to enjoy things and persons and God "according to their truth," and not just according to their meaning and worth for us (III/20/2-3). When the need to control goes, the real joy of freedom arrives. All this may help to indicate why John makes detachment the central focus of the beginning stages of contemplative prayer. It also may indicate that the word "beginning" covers a good deal of ground. As both Dom John Chapman and Thomas Merton remark, in the spiritual life we're lucky if the beginnings last only twenty years or so. Indeed, there's a way in which the contemplative life is always a matter of new beginnings. Such alife (as one of the Zen masters says) is an invitation and quest to discover more fully the gift of a "beginner's mind"--a mind that is open and compassionate, with many possibilities rather than a few. Thus although the Ascent is the introductory work in the body of John's mystical writings, it deals with substantive spirituality, not with approaches or fringes. The Ascent is elementary in the sense of being basic rather than in the sense of being a prologue to be gotten through quickly. Nor is ~he Ascent just a technical handbook on prayer. Starting from the rather narrow base of a "difficulty in mental prayer," John suggests a broad-er panorama. He paints a picture of a way of living, of coping with reality, that is both distinctive and profound. From the standpoint of a biblical theology, his emphasis is like that of the Fourth Gospel rather than like that of St. Paul and the synoptic gospels. That is, he understands the moments of humiliation and glorification as primarily simultaneous, not primarily sequential. The Cross is, to him, the way of life, not just the way to life. This theological point has a practical bearing Qn both one's personal out-look and one's pastoral perspective. How are we to understand the trouble and the darkness that we and others pass through? Is it mainly a punishment or a testing? Or is it basically a calling into deeper union with the whole range Detachment in the Ascent of Mount Carmel /649 of the human condition, and a calling into the whole realm of human and divine caring that the human condition invites? John of the Cross furnishes the theological and spiritual basis for this lat-ter understanding of the burdensomeness of life: for seeing it as an invitation to deeper union, more caring. This is not (it should be said) a popular out-look, for it runs counter to some deep cultural trends in our society--the cult of self-awareness, self-expression, self-fulfillment, and all the other cults of narcissism. Against all such cults John sets the possibility of a better way: a hard but simple happening, rooted in God's generosity and our imaginative awe: In the midst of a dark night, Yearning, and with love alight -- Ah, sheer fortune's fill! -- I went out hidden from all sight, At last my dwelling being still. Now dies the sun under the cross-- I pity, Mary, thy fair face. And thy tears as downward they trace. Now dies the sun under the cross-- I pity, Mary, thy son and thy loss. Denver Sasser Morrill Hall 205 Oklahoma State University Stillwater, OK 74074 (A translation-adaptation of an anonymous English lyric of the 13th Century.) Mission and Commitment A ngelo M. Caligiuri Father Caligiuri is Vicar for Religious in the Diocese of Buffalo. His last article in these pages, entitled "Spirituality and Ordinary Human Experience," appeared in the issue of May, 1978. He may be addressed at the Office of the Vicar for Religious; 100 S. Elmwood Ave.; Buffalo, NY 14202. One of the faith-categories which post conciliar writings have opened up for us in an enlivening and challenging way is that of mission. Since the Council, theological and spiritual writings have unpacked more of the mean-ing of this word and have brought us to a deeper level of understanding, an understanding of mission as a defining characteristic of what it means to be Christian. In this radical sense, mission refers to an essential dimension of the way of life of anyone who has heard the good news and in faith responds to the Lord's invitation to share his life and further his kingdom (see, for example, John Paul II, RedemptorHominis, 9, 10, II, 12, 18, 19; Paul VI, Evangelii Nuntiandi, 6, 13, 59, 60). While mission can be spoken of in rather general and broad terms, any consideration of the full phenomenon of mission will necessarily involve one in a consideration of three persons: the one who sends; the one who is sent; and the one to whom he is sent. To put it in more direct language, we could say that mission means: someone saying. to someone "Go to someone." 650 Mission and Commitment / 65"1 The Mission of Jesus As Jesus was aware of his being sent by the Father to make his message of love known to the world, so does he send his disciples into the world to con-tinue his mission of revealing the Father's love (see, e.g. John 17). Or in more direct language we might say that: as the Father said to Jesus "Go to my people." and tell them of my love for them and of the love that they should have for one another, so does Jesus say io his followers (the church) "Go to my people (the world)." and tell them of my Father's love for them and of'the love they should have for one another. This mission which Jesus received from his Father, he transmitted to the c~ommunity of believers drawn together by his Sp!ri~, i.e. to the Church, We who are the Church, then insofar as we are church, i.e. insofar as God's Spirit leads us to accept Jesus as Lord and Savior and as the revelation of the Father's love, share in the very mission of Jesus. himself. For it is to his Church, i.e. to those who believe in him, that hesays, go to the world and tell it of my Father's love and of the love humans should have for one another. Ecclesial Dimension of Mission To speak of mission, there, within tile Christian community, at whatever level, is also necessarily to spea~k of the Father, Son, Spirit, and Church. Hence the authentication of one's particular mission as Christian, that is, as continuous with the mission of the Son, will be rooted within the Church. Or, to say this in other words, there is an essential ecclesial dimension to all Christian mission. Mission as an Interpersohal R~ality In what was perhal~s.the last document signed by ~he late Pope Paul VI, a document entitled "Directives for the Mutual Relations Between Bishops and Religious in the Church,'_' we read the following. The mission of the people of God is one. In a certain sense it constitutes the heart of the entire ecclesial mystery . thus the Church, throughout her history, 'is by her very nature missionary' (LG, no. 17), in Christ and in virtue of the Spirit. All--pastors, -laymen, and religious, each according to his specific vocation--are called to be apostolically committed. This commitment arises from the love of the Father; the Holy Spirit, then nourishes it, "giving life to ecclesiastical structures, being as it were their soul, and inspiring in the hearts of the faithful the same spirit of mission which impelled Christ himself" (lAG 4], n. 15). 652 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 And the very next paragraph continues: Mission, which begins with the Father, requires that those who are sent exercise their awareness of love in the dialogue of prayer. Therefore, in these times of apostolic re-newal, as always in every form of missionary engagement, a privileged place is given to the contemplation of God to meditation on his plan of salvation, and to reflection on the signs of the times in the light of the gospel, so that prayer may be nourished and grow in quality and frequency (n. 16). As is clearly indicated in these passages, there is a radical personal level which the reality of mission reaches, a level which is more fundamental even than its corporate expression. It is to this more fundamental level that I would like to move in these reflections. It is at this level that mission is a faith-value that finds its ultimate ground in a person's presence to God, for it is at this level that mission does or does not become an existential reality, that is, an energizing and enlivening influence in the life of each follower of Christ. It is here that mission becomes part of the motivational structure of each religious. When we move to this level, we encounter mission as an interpersonal reality. For ultimately, mission is grounded in the reality of our relationships, our relationship with .the person who sends us and with the person(s) to whom we are sent. The strength and depth of our sense of mission then will depend upon the strength and depth of our relationship to the one who sends us. In other words, mission is intimately related to commitment. Mission and Commitment At the level of etymology, this interrelationship is clear. Both "mission" and "commitment" are radically from the Latin word, mittere, "to send." But it is at the level of our personal lives, as individuals responding to the Father's invitation to share his life and further his kingdom, that the truly in-timate relationship between mission and commitment becomes clear. The depth of our commitment to mission will depend upon the depth of our com-mitment to the One who sends us. When we speak about commitment, we are speaking about a reality that seems to be, at one and the same time, most personal, yet one which we can speak about rather impersonally. The very word commitment conjures up in our minds a feeling of security, a once-in-a-lifetime thing, a word that seems to "say it all"; and yet it also brings with it an unknown element, that dimen-sion of the cemmitted life that is revealed to us only in the living out of our lives. Commitment as Experienced The reality of commitment is best understood in terms of our personal ex-perience of it, in the context of our living of it. Indeed commitment is, and has been, a real dimension of our religious lives for however long we have been in religion. Mission and Commitment/ 653 If we ask ourselves just how it has been, and is now, a dimension of our lives, our first response might be to refer to that public act that we celebrated before the Church at the time of our final profession, one, ten, fifty years ago. Upon reflection, though I feel sure that we would not want to imply that this public act of commitment totally encompassed for us the full reality behind the words we uttered. That act, made once and renewed formally peri-odically, was, and is, simply an external sign, an outward expression of a deeper reality taking place in our hearts, at the level of our person. Commitment, then, has to do fundamentally with our person, with our presence to ourselves, with our awareness of ourselves. If commitment is to be more than an external act, it must flow from the ability each of us has to give ourselves not only in external acts but at the level of our awareness of who we are and who we are becoming; an awareness that is ours most clearly during those graced moments when we are frighteningly present to ourselves as we are before God, in naked truth and honesty. Commitment, then, has everything to do with ourselves, with our growing understanding of ourselves, a growth that takes place every day of our lives till the day we die, if we let it. Life itself is characterized by growth and change. Although this is quite obviously true with regard to our physical life, it is just as true, although not as immediately evident, in our lives as persons, as spiritual beings. It is in and through our lived experiences, that we grow in our understand-ing and acceptance of ourselves, that we grow as persons, a growth that has to influence the reality of the commitment we have made. It is our very per-son that we commit, that we give, ourperson that is alive and growing. And as we continue to experience life, as we grow in our self-understanding, we cannot help but come to a greater appreciation of what commitment means in our personal lives. The word "commitment," which, to an extent, remains impersonal, likb a skeleton, takes on flesh, begins to become incarnate in our real lives. Commitment and Spiritual Growth Just as our continued growth as persons influences our understanding of our commitment, so also is the opposite true. Where there is no personal 'growth, where an individual 'stagnates in his growth as a person, so also does his commitment become l~ss and less personal and more and more abstract. When this happens, his commitment runs the risk of becoming a cold and static reality, something that he begins to refer to in order to justify his com-placency and indifference towards his growth, as a justification for his lack of response to the ever present challenges of life, and as a justification for isolating himself more and more from his community, from the world. Under the false security of having "once and for all" committed himself, he can retire more and more into his own little world, becoming less and less sen-sitive to the life of the Spirit in the world, in the Church and in his fellow re- 654 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 ligious. Instead of commitment calling him to a greater giving of himself in the real-life situations of todaY,, instead of it calling him to a greater sense of mission, it becomes a needed excuse for seeing things only in terms that he finds personally acceptable, so that he becomes narrow-minded, unable to tolerate others. And because commitment ~ has become depersonalized and divorced from life,, it becomes, for him, something that must be expressed in the same way by all. ~ Commitment then has everything to do with our growth as persons, a growth that results more from.oiar attitudinal stance, than from our chrono-logical age. As a result, commitment can.be a truly influential and motivating force in our lives only to the extent that we are continually open to the life-giving Spirit who breathes where he will, to the Spirit who calls us to. deepen our relationship with Christ in the light of our growing understanding of our-selves. Commitment and Mission: the Person Who Is Sent Mission then is rooted in relationships. And the full reality of mission, which essentially involves the person who is sent, the person who sends and the person to whom he is sent, can well be described in interpersonal', rela-tional terms. First of all there is the relationship of the person~who-is-sent to the person:who-sends. At this personal level mission arid commitment are very intimately related, so ~that the depth and validity of our sense of mission will necessarily be related to the depth of our relationship to the person who sends us. Or, in 6ther words, our sense of mission is intimately related to our sense of commitment, a reality which has everything to do with our continual growth as persons. Ultimately, our personal sense of mission will depend upon the depth of the commitment of our person to the person of Jesus Christ in our lives. Now if our sense of mission is intimately related to our personal commit-ment to the one who sends us, then a fuller understanding of mission must necessarily include a more complete consideration of the commitment rela-tionship itself. And what surfaces in such a consideration is that the commitment rela-tionship is essentially bipolar, that is, one that necessarily includes not~ only we who give ourselves and who are sent, but also the person to whom we give ourselves, the person who sends. Commitment and Mission: the Person Who Sends Most religious and priests, if asked to express just who or what it is that they have committed themselves to, would probably answer in one of the fol-lowing ways: "I committed myself to God.-- to Jesus; I committed myself to serve God's people, to a particular way of life or' to a specific apostolate." Now while all of these responses are meaningful in themselves and are legiti- Mission and Commitment / 655 mate values to which we can commit ourselves, not all of them have the abili-ty to call forth from us a radical level of commitment that proceeds from our very person. Not all warrant a response from us or challenge us at the level of our person. In fact, there are certain things we commit ourselves to that never in themselves require more than a functional response on our part. However, when we think about our religious commitment, we are think-ing about a reality that does reach us at the level of our person. We are con, sidering Something that r.eally influences us not primarily at the level of what we do, but rather at the level of who we are, and of the kind of person we are becoming. The only reality we can commit ourselves to in such a way that it will reach us as persons, is the reality of another person. To be sure, we can and do commit ourselves to do things, to perform certain actions and rituals, and to.provide certain services. But these activities can be out of harmony with our basic personal commitment and instead of being expressions of our basic personal commitment and being a means of incarnating that commit-ment moreand more in our living situations, these activities can become ends in themselves and as a matter of fact, they can introduce into our lives a real dichotomy between what we do and who we really are. When this kind of situation arises, we begin to absolutize our activities. When speaking about commitment, we find ourselves always speaking about commitment to certain apostolates and activities, a type of commitment which is only a second-level commitment, since these activities of themselves do not necessarily reach us at the level of our person. When commitment has become primarily this kind of second-level commitment to functions and ac-tivities, no matter how good they are in themselves, commitment becomes an impersonal and static reality that no longer challenges to growth and to life. Rather, it becomes a reality which is continually threatened by persons who do things differently, or who do different things. Then, in the name of com-mitment, we can find ourselves becoming rather defensiv.e, distrustful and suspicious, becoming ever. more' cl.osed in on ourselves, more isolated, and hence with an ,ever narrowing sense of mission. To be sure, because mission is an e,ssential part of the call to follow Christ, Christian and religious commitment must o~bvigusly lead to doing things and to activity. The point is. that when w~ totally identify our Christian or religious commitment.wi.th ceriain activities or apostolates, then that com-mitment can become a hindrance .to our true personal growth in Christ, it can become an obstacle in.the way of what the Lord's love wants to do in our lives at the level of our hearts. Commitment to the Person Who Sends: Jesus Christ Now, while it is possible that commitment to things or activities can get in the way of our continued personal growth in the Lord's life, a sense of com-mitment is primarily a very positive influence in our spiritual life. However, it is this only to the degree that our commitment is to the person of God as he 656 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 reveais himself to us in his Son Jesus Christ. It is to the extent that it is to Jesus and to his life-giving word that we give ourselves, only to this extent does our commitment become radically personal and continually challenging at the level of the persons we are becoming and can become. When we become more and more personally aware of the fact that our primary commitment as religious is to the person of Jesus Christ who makes his love for us felt in the people and situations of our lives, we also become less hesitant to respond to new situations creatively, then we become less hesi-tant to act upon new insights both in our personal and communal lives. We are able to carry out our mission in an effective and creative way. Since it is to the living Lord that we have given ourselves and who missions us, it is to be expected that he will inspire us and continually lead us to new understandings of ourselves and of our deepening relationship with him, and both of these will of necessity have to find expression in the apostolic activities of our life. If we really believe that it is the Lord who is giving us this new under-standing, then we will have little hesitation oi" fear in allowing that new understanding to lead us to new activities, to new ways of doing things. The mere newness of these ways and activities will in no way cause us to feel that we are being unfaithful to our past or that what we did in the past was wrong or less than our best effort. The Lord normally calls us to grow in his life gradually, and it is only in the context of past experience and action that cer-tain new insights into the Lord's ways become possible. "Only if the seed die, will it bring forth new life." And only if we are free enough to let go of what we are, can we become what the Lord wants us to become. The more personally aware we become of the fact that our primary com-mitment is to the person of Jesus Christ, the less will we identify our religious selves with just activities and functions, the less will our sense of mission be limited to specific activities which must necessarily reflect the historical moment and culture in which they developed. Real life situations will always be changing, whether We like it or not. Unless we want to remove ourselves from life and begin to live in our own lit-tle world, a world that is real only in our own lives, we must as the Council has reminded us so strongly, continually read the signs of the times. However, although the situations in which we carry out our missions are going to be ever new, there is also a constant dimension in them. That con-stant dimension is our personal commitment to the person of Christ. Although we can't do much about most of our life situations, we can do quite a bit about the depth and sincerity of our commitment. And this is the kind of thing we do in prayer and in celebrating our faith life with those who share and experience the same love of God in their lives. As we grow in our awareness of the fact that our religious life is identified with this personal commitment to Christ and not with particular apostolates, practices and activities, then we can begin to allow our commitment to lead us to actions and attitudes that will make our Christian values just a little Mission and Commitment / 657 more incarnate in our changing life situations. Our commitment will give rise to and deepen our sense of mission. As we free ourselves from the slavery of our prejudices and preconceived ideas, we will be able to see more and more clearly what it is that the Lord wants us to do. We will begin to see that he really means it when he says that the heart of his message is love of God and love of neighbor. We will begin to appreciate that he really wants his fol-lowers to become one, to grow in true communion with others, and our sense of mission will become deepened and directed. Commitment, then, grounds our mission, and the depth of our personal commitment to the person of Christ, who sends us to tell all of the Father's love, will determine the depth of our sense of being sent and our willingness to be sent. Commitment and Mission: the Person(s) to Whom We Are Sent Having considered the person who is sent and the person who sends, in order to complete our reflection on the reality of mission, we must now turn to a consideration of the person or persons to whom we are sent. In a rather simplistic way, I would like to say that we are sent by Christ both to ourselves and to others. In saying this, I think that I have said an awful lot -- and have also left a lot unsaid. Sent to Ourselves In saying that we are sent to ourselves, I am not engaging in double-talk, nor stating a reality that is so obvious that it need not be mentioned. Rather what I am trying to describe is the fact that the good news of the Father's love which we are sent to communicate, is good news not only for others but also, and even primarily, for ourselves. Wecannot communicate the good news of the Father's love for all unless we have ourselves heard the good news and ac- .cepted it. As mentioned earlier, we are not sent in an impersonal way, after the fashion of mechanical instruments, but rather we are sent as the unique persons we are and are becoming. It is as persons loved into being by the Father and responding to that love in our own unrepeatable way, that we are sent to bring others the good news of the Father's love. And so before we bring the good news to others, we must hear and accept it ourselves. Through prayer and reflection we must constantly strive to be present to the promptings of God's life-giving Spirit as he tries to lead us ever more profoundly into union with the Father. The good news of the Father's love must continually confront us and challenge us to keep on dying to our old self, so that the new creature that the Lord would have us become might be born and mature. In a more traditional terminology we might say that we must be concerned about saving our own soul. The good news that we are sent to bring to others, then, is also, and first of all, good news for us personally. This is the sense in which we say that we are first of all sent to ourselves. 658 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 Sent to Others However, and perhaps more obviously, we are also sent to others. In Mt 28:18-20 we read: Jesus came forward and addressed them in these words: "Full authority has been given to me both in heaven and on earth; go, therefore, and make disciples of all the nations. Baptize them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Teach them to carry out everything I have commanded you and know that I am with you always till the end of the world" (confer also Lk 24:46-48; and Ac 1:8). ~ Clearly then, because it is in and through Christ that we have come to know the Father's love and have accepted the Father's invitation to share his life in faith, we also share in the mission he gave Christ, to witness to his love before all men. Because of our personal commitment to the person of Christ, we also share in his mission to the world. The "How. of Our Mission An obvious and legitimate question can be raised at this point in our re-flections, as to just how we carry out our mission .to others. How do we wit-ness to others of the love of the Father for them, and of the call they have to love each other? Of course this is the question that ultimately each of us must answer for ourselves in the light of our own personal salvation history andin the light of the real time and place in history where we are responding to the promptings of God's Spirit in out lives. , Even as we.acknowledge this radically personal dimension of the answer to this question of "how," we can also make some more general observations about this "how:" ¯ The first is that, if we are going to be true to the mission of Christ and not be sidetracked at some other level, we must, inall the different concrete situa-tions which make up the context of our lives, strive to witness to the reality of God's love among us. I know that this sounds trite, and that we have said it already. But yet we must really allow these familiar words to become opera-tive in our own evaluating of our daily life situations. Success or failur~ in our services or activities must ultimately be judged not so much according to whether or not we succeeded in doing what we set out to do, but rather in whether or not in our attempt to be of service we witnessed to the presence of God's love among us. Secondly, our ability to witness to the Father's love in the situations of our daily life, be they classrooms, hospital rooms, courtrooms, community rooms or wherever, will be dependent upon our own growing acceptance of the Father's love in our lives. No one can give what he doesn't have. And unless we are, in our own personal lives, secure in the Father's love, confident of our life in him and present to ourselves as we continually grow into the person God's Spirit wants us to be, we will not be able to respond creatively Mission and Commitment / 659 to the situations of our daily life in which we are called to witness to the Father's love, and the mission of Christ will be circumscribed by our limited perspectives. I guess what I am trying to say here is that there are two dimensions to our personal liveL One is the dimension of ourselves which we can call the core of our being, the "within," the person that we are and are becoming through our intimate involvement with God's life-giving Spirit. This is our ongoing attempt to ~become ever more present to ourselves, ever more in touch with the profound mystery of God's creative love which sustains each of us in our unique being. But if there is a "within," there is also a "without." There is also a very public dimension to our person. In fact, our very being as persons is "to-be-with." This is one of the mysterious realities of the spiritual life. While at first glance the person who gives himself over to a contemplative life-style seems to be isolating himself from others, in reality the more he becomes present to the real core of his being, the more he encounters the overpowering love of God in himself and the more he is aware of and present to that same love of God in others. As he gets more in touch with the core of his being, he discovers that "to-be" is really "to-be-with." There is,,then, a public dimension to our personal existence, and, as a re-sult, as persons we are necessarily called to give public witness to God's love. But in this sense,, our public witness is not something apart from our personal acceptance of the Father's love. Rather it is a necessary concomitant of it, since as persons, we are necessarily social, we are necessarily with others. Although we usually think of ourselves as witnessing to God's love, as carrying out our mission in terms of others who are not part of our immedi-ate, everyday surroundings, since as persons, we are necessarily "with others," by the sincerity and authenticity of our own personal growth in the Lord, we witness first of all to. those who are closest to us, to our brothers and sisters with whom we live in community, to our family, to those who, all too often, we take for granted because we are so frequently physically present to each other. Besides this. public dimension of our personal witness, there is also a pub-lic witness to the Father's love which comes in a communal way. The Church itself, as the body of Christ in time and space, and all the various structures which in the course of the ages have arisen as a means to help us to grow in the Lord, give a communal witness to the Father's love at work among us. Mission and Religious Congregations It appears that it is precisely this area of public communal witness, the area of corporate witness, that is giving rise today to rather serious and searching reflections in many religious congregations as they consider their institutional apostolates and discern their future commitment to them. As communities have begun to rewrite their constitutions, many are reflecting 660 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 upon their experience with "self-placement," and other attempts to involve individuals in a discerning process regarding their mission to specific aposto-lates. In this process, they have become aware of the need to acknowledge and identify, as clearly as possible, the ecclesial and corporate dimensions of mission as significant factors to be consciously brought into such a discerning. process. Indeed, without such conscious inclusion, the wide variety of activities and apostolates in which a community or an individual may engage, while good and productive in themselves, may be "de-spirited," that is, not enliv-ened by the inspired dynamic at work in the Church's carrying out of its mis-sion from Jesus its Lord, To be sure, in our rapidly changing world, in which religious in a special way have been asked to read and respond to the signs of the times, it is not a simple matter to discern which apostolates are legitimate extensions and ex-pressions of Jesus's mission at a particular time in history. For while the traditional apostolates are still very valid, we also know that new needs are arising that call for creative reponses in order to carry out the mission of Jesus in the world of today and tomorrow. Historically, the Spirit has en-riched the Church with religious communities which have been able to trans-late the mission mandate of Christ into ministries and apostolates that responded to the reality of particular ages, be it by redeeming slaves, by teaching the children of Catholic immigrants in the context of a pluralistic so-ciety, by providing medical care in underdeveloped countries, or by lobbying for issues of social justice. However, precisely because such a discerning process, reflecting as it does one's ecclesiology and understanding of the vows (especially obedience), is necessarily not a simple matter, congregations must resist the temptation to expedite and simplify the process either by not providing clear and challeng-ing ecclesial and congregational input to a person's discerning process, or by not taking a person's discerning process seriously. Persons, on the other hand, must search out this congregational and ecclesial input, and allow it to be a very significant dimension in their own discerning process. The current efforts being made by religious congregations to deal with the implications of their ecclesial reality for their congregational sense of mis-sion, are most encouraging. As congregations continue to address this area with greater intensity, they will find some direction and encouragement from the above mentioned document, "Directives for the Mutual Relations Be-tween Bishops and Religious in the Church," jointly issued by the Sacred Congregation for Keligious and Secular Institutes and the Sacred Congrega-tion for Bishops (see Chapter I I I, 10-12 and especially Chapter IV, 15-23). The entire second part of this document presents some directives and norms that deal with the practical aspects of such mutual relations. To get a sense of how this document could contribute to a congregation's discerning process, it might be helpful to cite a few of the directives. Mission and Commitment / 661 38. Major superiors will take great care not only to have a knowledge of the talents and possibilities of their religious btit also of the apostolic needs of the dioceses where their institute is called to work. Wherefore it is desirable that a concrete and global dialog be carried on between the bishop and the superiors of the various institutes present in the diocese, so that, especially in view of certain precarious situations and the persistent vo-cational crisis, religious personnel can be more evenly and fruitfully distributed. 40 . Bishops, in dialog with religious superiors and with all who work in the pastoral sector of the diocese, should try to discern what the Spirit wills and should study ways to provide new apostolic presences, so as to be able to deal with the difficulties which have arisen within the diocese. The search, however, for this renewal must not in the least lead to a depreciation of the still actually valid forms of apostolate, which are properly traditional, such as that of the.school (see S. Congregation for Catholic Education, The Catholic School March 19, 1977), of the missions, of effective presence in hospitals, social services, etc. All of these traditional forms, moreover, must be, without delay, suitably updated according to the norms and guidelines of the Council and the needs of the times. 41. Apostolic innovations, which are later to be undertaken, should be planned with careful study. On the one hand, it is the duty of the bishops through their office not in-debd to extinguish the Spirit, but to test all things and hold fast to what is good (see l Th 5, 12 and 19-21; LG 12), in such a way however, "that the spontaneous zeal of those who engage in this work may be safeguarded and fostered" (.4G 30); religious superiors on their part, should cooperate actively and dialog with the bishops in seeking solutions, in arranging the programming of choices made, in launching experiments, even com-pletely new ones, always acting in view of the most urgent needs of the Church and in , conformity with the norms and directives Of the Magisterium and according to the nature of their institute. Together with such guidelines, congregations must themselves, through their own reflective processes, arrive at clarity and consistency regarding their own understanding and usage of those potentially confusing phrases that often surface when a congregation considers how "mission" finds expression in its corporate life. I am referring here to phrases like, "corporate mission," "corporate witness," "corporate ministry," "institutional commitment," all of which perhaps need to be "unpacked" and reflected upon in the light of the congregation's own understanding of its charism and ecclesial reality. The necessity of institutions for the carrying out of certain, apostolates is obvious. However, given the changes in the society to which we are missioned to proclaim and witness to the Father's love, it might be necessary at least to raise the question as to whether or not institutions as such have become ends in themselves, institutions, that is, whose continued existence is justified more and more from their own intrinsic merits and strengths than from their relationship to the furthering of the mission of Christ. Honest struggling with these questions should help congregations to clari-fy, identify, and own just which dimensions of their institutional apostolates do incarnate their public communal witness to the Father's love and, in doing so, give the congregation some significant input for whatever process they 662 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 engage in, in trying to digcern l~he missioning of the congregation's personnel and the expediture of its financial resources. However even at this level of concern for a congregation's public com-munal witness, I think it is important to remember that since the community consists simply of persons coming together in the Spirit to share with and live out their common faith-vision, the vitality of a congregation,s public com-munal witness will also necessarily reflect the quality of the personal witness of the members of the community. Conclusion The thrust of these reflections has been to surface the essential inter-personal and relational dimensions of the reality of mission. For it is this di-mension which to a great extent grounds the ability of mission to be a truly enlivening reality of our Christian living. Because the phenomenon of mis-sion involves three persons, the person who is sent, the person who sends and person to whom he is sent, one's sense of mission and willingness to be sent will be very much rooted in his relationship to the person who sends. In other words mission is very intimately related to commitment, so that the quality of our Christian mission will be dependent upon the quality of our commitment to the person of Je'stis Christ who shares his mission with us. As a result, when religious, both personally and communally, enter a pro-cess to discern where and how they should carry out the mission that Christ shares with them, their process of discernment must include a very real sensi-tivity to the input of the Church -- especially the local church -- where alone one's mission is actually carried out. And it is this ecclesial input that will help r~ligious avoid the subtle dangers of becoming more concerned with self-perpetuation than with proclaiming and witnessing to the kingdom. And, correspondingly, it is a serious responsibility of the Church -- especially the local church -- to create and foster those structures that will enable it to sur-face and articulate its pastoral needs in a realistic and credible way. But, even more fundamentally, before religio6s, either personally or com-munally, can engage in such a legitimate process of discernment, one that'is aimed at discerning the will of the Father, they must already be in a loving and living prayerful relationship 'with the Lord. They must have already com-mitted their very selves to the person of Jesus. As' followers of Christ, we are necessarily on mission. While for religious this mission does receive some definite specifications in the light of congrega-tional charisms, still, the full reality of their mission must ~lso, necessarily, flow from and reflect its ecclesial, Christic and Trinitarian roots. Which is to say that ultimately for religious, as for 'all Christians, the quality of our sense of mission and our willingness to be sent, are very inti-mately tied up with our personal relationship with and commitment to the person who sends us, the person of Jesus Christ. For, like the Trinity itself, our mission is'rooted ultimately in relationships. Three Questions for the Spiritual Journey Joel Gia//anza, C.S.C. Brother Giallanza has contributed to these pages previously. His article, "The Counsels of John of the Cross Revisted," appeared in our January, 1978 issue~ He continues to reside at Holy Cross Novitiate; Bennington, VT 05201. Asking a question implies searching for an answer; also it implies a desire for the knowledge and valfie inherent in the answer. As expressions of a commitment to the spiritual journey, questions can be effective channels for.discovering ways in which the Lord has been and is operative in each one's life. Most of the great mystics do not use questions as a structural basis for their writings. However; they do seem to be addressing a query that could be formulated thus: "What is your experience of God in your own life?" Within this experiential context, mystical writers offer the reader profound glimpses into their relationships with God. Admittedly this is not the only query that shapes the writings of these authors. Other, more specific, questions emerge as they articulate their understanding of the spiritual life. Questions pertaining to each one's own spiritual journey should be neither accidental nor random. Haphazard questioning can have a significant impact on the direction that one takes; it can result in one's losing sight of the journey's end--union with the Lord. Questions for the journey rather should facilitate choices which have to be made, should be a guide along the road, should offer the support and the challenge necessary to continue faithfully even when the road is dark. Where can such questions be found? The spiritual journey is a move- 663 664 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 ment toward union with the Lord. Our questions, then, should come from the Lord himself. He alone gives the gi'ace to discern choices, to find support along the road, and to bring light to the darkness. This reflection will focus on three questions which come from the Lord and which seem to be of special importance for the spiritual journey. Identifying the Lord The first question is itself posed in the context of a journey: specifically, Jesus and his disciples are entering the district of Caesarea Philippi. First Jesus asks his disciples who others believe him to be; then, after a variety of responses, he asks the disciples themselves: "But who do you say that I am?" (Mr 16:13-15 and parallels). The question is a crucial one, an identi-fying one; the response to it immediately identifies each one's faith in, and relationship with, Jesus of Nazareth. This identification is fundamental to the spiritual life. It specifies the end point toward which the spiritual journey tends. Above all, it is a statement of faith. Faith is a lived reality. Its core is made visible by the whole of one's life, through one's attitudes, decisions, commitments, relationships. Contem-porary Christians, just as the disciples, must also confront this question, in faith, for it is ever-present. "Who do you say that I am?" Clearly, it is present as one prays, either individually or in a worshiping community. It is present in everyday decisions and encounters, as well as in those which have an impact on one's life beyond a single day, week, month, or year. In short, it is present throughout the spiritual journey. All of life responds, in some way, to it. The movement of the text in which this question appears is from general ("who do others say. ?") to particular ("who do you say. ?"). The disciples, doubtless, had been influenced by what others were saying about Jesus; hence, their answers to the generalized question. The challenge of the more particular question, however, is to respond personally on the basis of their own experience. So too, for contemporary Christians, the influence of others has some bearing on the development of personal faith; eventu-ally, however, the question must be addressed on the. basis of one's own faith and experience. The spiritual life, as a personal relationship with God, must contain a response to Jesus on a personal level. Finally, the identification of '~who Jesus is" in and for one's life is inseparable from the Paschal Mystery. "From that time Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised" (Mt 16:21 and parallels). To identify Jesus, in the words of Peter, as "the Christ, the Son of the Living God" is to accept the cross-and-resurrection. The Lordship of Jesus and his accomplishment of the Father's will by dying and rising are one. And so, the spiritual journey begins. One's vision of its end and of the road to be taken is focused sharply in each one's response to the question of Jesus: "But who do you say that I am?" Three Questions for the Spiritual Journey / 665 Acknowledging the Lord The first question, the identifying question, is not asked in a vacuum. It leads to, and is supported by, another question: "Do you know what I have done to you?" (Jn 13:12). The immediate scriptural context of this question" is the Last Supper, after Jesus had washed the disciples' feet. In this simple action, he gives them an example of how they are to serve others. For the spiritual journey, the response to this question is the acknowl-edgment and recognition of what the Lord has done in one's life; it is the recognition of specific graces that are given to each one throughout his life. This acknowledgment and recognition flow from, and support, what has gone before. To acknowledge the graces one has been given implies some identification of the Giver; to recognize those graces strengthens one's faith in Jesus as Lord. The gospel itself affirms this interdependence of the two questions; immediately after asking this second question, Jesus states: "You call me Teacher and Lord; and you are right, for so I am" (Jn 13: 13). Beyond its appearance in the context of the Last Supper, this question can refer to Jesus' entire life. In a sense, he is asking an all-pervasive question: "Do you know what I have done to you?" since you have been with me and I with you~uring all that has happened (will happen) to us since the beginning of my ministry? In this larger context the disciples must reflect on all that has taken place. They must begin to. see Jesus' life and ministry as a single incarnate expression of the Father's love. Jesus is the Exemplar (Jn 13:15), the one to whom.all Christian lives must point. This question, too, must be particularized. The Lord's actions surely have affected all people, but each in a unique way. The acknowledgment of that unique way in which the Lord has been operative in one's life shapes the response to this question. This is to know what the Lord has done. The second question appears very near the end of Jesus' life; thus, it, too, points to the cross-and-resurrection. The graces which one receives throughout life are intrinsically bound to the drama of Salvation History. Indeed, the gifts which the Lord bestows upon his people--individually and collectively~raw their power from his passion, death, and glorification. And so, the spiritual journey continues. Complete dependence on the Lord, by acknowledging his gifts, is highlighted in response to the simple, yet pervasive, question: "Do you I~now what 1 have done to you?" Seeking the Lord Jesus' first two questions are a type of prelude to his third. To identify Jesus in one's life, and to acknowledge his gifts, are the means of respond-ing to a final question: "Whom do you seek?" (Jn 18:4). This is asked by Jesus in the garden just prior to his arrest; his boldness stuns those who seek him, and so Jesus repeats himself. This question must remain a constant traveling companion on the spiri-tual journey. It must be answered again and again, at every fork in the road, as the spiritual life progresses. Its purpose, clearly, is to keep one's sight 666 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 fixed on the Lord alone. Thus, it is the raison d'etre for the entire spiritual ¯ journey. At any point .along the way, regardless of what one is doing, the manner in which his life is lived a.ctually proclaims his response to the 'question: "Whom do you seek?" That night, those who were seeking Jesus (to arrest him) were caught up in their movement as a crowd. It would have been~interesting to go through that crowd and ask each, indiviOually, whom he was seeking. Some may not have really known. Judas did, but he did not search alone. As odd as it may seem, a parallel can be drawn for the spiritual journey. Faith and gifts from the Lord can be. taken for granted, and so one can easily be caught up in merely doing what everyone else is doing. Then Jesus' question really has not been heard. Like the previous questions, this one ~must be particu-larized. To fix one's sight on the Lord alone clarifies the response; the alternatives are confusion and uncertainty. It is not to be inferred that confusion and uncertainty are never to be experienced in the spiritual life. Rather, the point here is that one's basic response is stable. From its context in the Gospel of John, it is obvious that this question leads to the cross-and-resurrection. To seek the Lord is to accept all that the Paschal Mystery e[atails. In a prophetic waY, Sirach emphasized this some two centuries before: My son, if you come forward to serve the Lord, prepare yourself for trials" (2: I). To seek the Lord leads to life, but it is a life that is born through death (Jn 12:24-25). And so the spiritual journey continues. At any moment and every moment, the Christian must know the road being traveled; constancy must be the hallmark of each one's response to the questibn: "Whom do you seek?" In Response Every Christian must respond in some way to these three questions of the spiritual journey. The ways in which each identifies, acknowledges, and seeks the Lord will be unique, based on personality, talents, experience, life-situation. Nevertheless, a common thread does run through all re-sponses. In the opening lines of his first letter, St. John makes a statement that addresses effectively all three questions. That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life--the life was mb.de manifest, and we saw it, and testify to it, and proclaim to you the eternal life which was with the Father and was made manifest to us--that which we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you. so that you may have fellowship with us;and our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son; Jesus Christ (1:1-3). Consider each question, and then read this text as a response. Jesus is identified as "the word of life"; he is acknowledged as the sour~:e of all that Three Questions for the Spiritual Journey / 667 has been received; and, he is the end toward which the proclamation points. Jesus is the common thread. It is beyond the scope of this brief reflection to explore this text in any depth; but one point in particular is worthy of note. Tactility and sensibility are emphatic elements of this text. The one about whom these things are written is known through experience: "heard," "seen," "looked upon," and "touched." These elements strengthen the testimony that is given. From his own experience, St. John proclaims "'the word of life," and invites others to "fellowship with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ." Responding to these questions throughout one's own spiritual journey must be the fruit of experience; it cannot be the result of academic gymnas-tics. These questions warrant a commitment, a fidelity to the spiritual journey. Only then does one's life--testimony, proclamation--identify Jesus as Lord, acknowledge his gifts, and seek him alone. Conclusion Three simple questions, Simple, yet interdependent. Simple, yet for the spiritual life they can be viewed as the most significant questions in the New Testament. To identify Jesus in one's life, to acknowledge what he has done and is doing, and to seek him above all else these constitute the spiritual journey. And, as always, the roads along which the journey pro-gresses are paved with the cross,and-resurrection. The spiritual journey requires onlyfidelity. That fidelity is incarnated through the Christian's lived response to the Lord's questions: "But who do you say that I am?" "Do y9u know what I have done to you?W .h.om do you seek?" Write a Gospel John Navone, S.J. Father Navone has written previously for REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. He continues to teach theology atthe Gregorian University; Piazza della Pilotta, 3; 00187 Roma, Italy. The Church employs the gospels as means for communicating and cultivat-ing its foundational experience of the love of God in Jesus Christ and in his Spirit given to us. A gospel is not an end in itself; it is meant to be used for fosteripg that gift of God's love which is the life of the Church. A gospel is written to serve the purpose of the grace and demand of God's transcendent love in Jesus Christ and his Church; it articulates and objectifies the meaning and value and demands of this love for us, both as individuals and as a com-munity. It symbolizes the call of a transcendent love empowering and sum-moning individuals to transcend themselves by accepting its grace and de-mand for life within the Christian community. Similarly, it symbolizes God's transcendent love summoning the Christian community to transcend itself in communicating its foundational experience to the world in iis distinctive ser-vice of the world. In a series of conferences given at the Gregorian University, in December 1978, Carlo Martini, S.J., sustained the working hypothesis that the four Gospels function as four manuals which correspond to the needs of four dis-tinct moments in the formation of the Christian. Adapting this hypothesis to the realm of God's self-investing love which the New Testament witness sym-bolizes, I suggest that Mark serves as the Christian community's manual for introducing the catechumen to the mystery of God's self-investing love in Jesus Christ. Matthew functions as the catechist's manual for helping the newly baptized to live according to the exigences of this self-investing love within the Church. Luke-Acts is the two-volume manual for learning how to bear witness to the meaning and value of this love for the world. John is Write a Gospel / 669 employed as .the manual for the grand synthesis of the mature Christian who has lived out the demands of this self-investing love in following Jesus and his (~hurch in the service of the world and now asks what is at the heart of his Christian experience. The self-investing dynamic of God's love is understood to be the origin and ground and destiny of the Jesus story, the Church story, and the world story. Not to have grasped this is to have missed the point of the dynamic which constitutes their ultimate meaning and value. Commu-nion with God implies a participation in the dynamic of his self-investing love on a level prior to that on which doctrinal systems and organized institutions arise. The Gospels symbolize the realm of God's unrestricted love to which humankind is constitutively oriented by presenting Jesus as God's self-revela-tion, or Word. They summon us to follow Jesus in his fundamental self-others- world-Mystery relationship for the authentic fulfillment of our humanity. The authenticity of our response to Jesus' injunction to love God above all else finds its measure in the deeds by which we follow his way to human authenticity through self-investing love for the neighbor. Writing a gospel is one way of learning to use a gospel for discovering the quality of our relationship to the transcendent love of God in Jesus Christ, in his Church, and in his world. Jesus symbolizes the meaning and value of this love, what it does and what it does not. The way we tell his story implies the way we comprehend the purpose of God's love in ourselves, others, and the world. The storyteller is in his storytelling. The gospel writer tells us about himself in telling us his story of Jesus. At the beginning of a course I teach on the spirituality of the gospels, I have had my students write a gospel in order to come to some experiential un-derstanding of what it means to be the author of a gospel. For an appropriate psychological state, they were to imagine that all the New Testaments throughout the world had been destroyed and that theirs would be the one and only written link with the original four gospels. They were to write their own synoptic gospel, using only the words of the four actual gospels. The ti-tle of the gospel would be "The Gospel According to (Student's Name)." Not more than two thousand words were allowed for telling the Good News. Each gospel was to have an architectonic unity, at least one parable, one mir~acle, one saying of Jesus. Between a fourth and a fifth of the gospel had to treat of the passion and death of Jesus. When the gospels had been written, they were exchanged. Each student wrote a commentary on the gospel that was given to him aimed at discerning (1) the portrait of Jesus and (2) the portrait of the author. What is the mean-ing and value of Jesus for the writer of this gospel? At what levels of con-sciousness does Jesus speak to the author? What does the author expect of Jesus? At ~what level of personal need does Jesus encounter the author? What is the author's particular interest in Jesus? What is his particular feeling toward Jesus? General questions for a critical reading of these gospels -- to help discern 670 / Review for R'eligious, Volume 38, 1979/5 the portrait of Jesus and of the author -- are the following, 1. Make a list of all the verbs which describe the agency of Jesus. What Jesus does in the gospel implies what he does for the author of the gospel. The author implies that Jesus will do this also for the reader of his gospel. 2. What does Jesus say in this gospel? This is what the author h~ears Jesu.s saying and, therefore, implicitly expects his reader to hear the same Jesus ad-dressing him with the same words. 3. Is the Risen Christ active in this .gospel? Does the gospel end with Jesus' resurrection from.the dead? ~ 4.How does the author see Jesus' basic self-others-world-God r~lationships? Is Jesus regarded as more solitary than social? As more receptive than active? As more suffering than joyful? As more among women than among men? As more among friends than among adversaries? As more a speaker than a doer? As more often rebuking than encouraging? As more often criticizing than approving? As more demanding than accepting? As more comprehen-sibly human than mysteriously divine? As more courageously confronting difficult situations than being welcomed by admiring followers? The original evangelists do not exclude one or the other of these elements in creating their balanced portrait of Jesus as both their crucified and risen Lord, illuminating the mystery which defines every human life. On the one hand, Jesus symbolizes the grace of God's love accepting persons wherever they are; on the other hand, he symbolizes the summons of that gracious love to transcend what we are in becoming sons of God. Some students wrote a gospel in which the third person prevails, creating the perspective of a detached spectator. Their avoidance of the second person suggests th~ absence of a personal relationship with the crucified and risen Jesus. It suggests that ~hey do not h~ar him speaking to them today. Luke's gospel, in contrast, underscores the ever-present grace and demand of God's love: "Today this scripture has been fulfilled even as you listen" (4:21); "To-day I must stay at your home" (19:5); "Today salvation has come to this house" (19:9); "Today you shall be with me in Paradise" (23:43). Luke's use of the second person, his use of such words as "today" and "now," implies that the transcendent realm of God's love, symbolized by the entire story of Jesus, is ever-present and summoning us. Its reality and goodness actually touch Luke's existence as an individual within the community of Christian faith, inspiring him to write a gospel about it for others. His gospel thema-tizes the immediacy of an understanding beyond words, his religious cgnver-sion, the love which he has received and accepted as the integrating center of his life. , The exercise of writing a gospel helps the writer to discover those areas of life that are most affected by the meaning and value of God's love in Jesus Christ. The writer should treasure whatever dimension of the Good News that especially moves or interests him. This is its special value for him. This is the particular sector of his consciousness where the mystery of God's love Write a Gospel / 671 finds itsl point of entry into his life; consequently, it must be cultivated with care so as to become frtlitful. Its fruitfulness will vary with the cultivation it receives. The radicalism of the New Testament message is an ideal towards which growth will always be slow and often uncertain. Inasmuch as our ac-tion must always be within the 'limits of possibility, a rigorism that would challenge us beyond our powers is counterproductive. Discouragement is the temptation of temptations. One person'~s effective freedom is limited to such a way that he cannot' achieve what many others find feasible. The focus of the gospel-summons is on the use, rather than measure, of our effective freedom. It challenges us to stretch the limits of our freedom, but not to the breaking-point. It manifests a readiness to meet us wherever we happen.to be and to lead us on from there. As William ~V. Dych notes: "What must I do to gain eternal life," Jesus is asked in the Gospel story. What I must do might be quite different from what somebody else,must do, and I am the one who has to discover it in the particular configuration of concrete circumstances which make up my life and existence. There is no antecedent blueprint~ in a book somewhere simply to be Copied or imitated. In fact, when "living by the book" makes me miss the very concrete realities rigl~t there before my eyes, then "the letter kills," as St. Paul says.' The most severe threats of the Gospel are for those who do not want to be led at all, those committed to the illusion of self-sufficiency: But alas for you who are rich: you are having your consolation now: Alas for you who have your fill now: you shall go hungry. Alas for you who laugh now: you shall mourn and weep. Alas for you when the world speaks well of you! This was the way their ancestors treated the false prophets (Lk 6:24-26). The gospels are rich in pedagogical resources for cultivating the gift of God's love at the 'many different levels where we had become conscious of its presence and summons. No situation of human life is too extreme to bein-cluded within the scope of its redemptive purpose. It implicitly invites every-one to write his own ,gospel within the effective limits of our freedom for responding to the gift of God's love in our basic :self-others-world-God rela-tionships. It invites us to witness to its reality and goodness. The exercise of writing a gospel, using only the words of the four evange-lists, has the advantage of not taxing the creative resources of individuals. The gospels provide a basic lingua franca which we may employ to describe our relationship to the mystery which defines our lives. The use of this lingua francarespects the privacy of the writer, who might not wish to publicize the events of his interior life; at the same time, it permits the individuality of the writer's perspective to emerge in the selection of material. The writer does not have to invent a religious language, or a set of religious symbols. The number of words is arbitrary; however, the fewer permitted, the more radical the 'William V. Dych, "The Logic of Faith,'" America 140 (March 19, 1979), p. 219. 672 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 selectivity and the clearer the manifestation of the writer's perspective. Students writing a gospel are generally unaware of how self-revealing their gospels are. The experience of becoming a synoptic writer of a gospel creates a context for a meaningful discussion of the process that brought the first four gospels into existence, and of the relation of this process to the reli-gious conversion which occurs in the immediacy of the subject's conscious-ness, in a supraconceptual, existential experience beyond words. Only when religiously transformed subjectivity begins to mediate itself through mean-ing, myth, narrative, stories of God and the like can religious community take rise. This mediation of conversion through the objectification of its meaning provides the context for the Church's use of the New Testament. Writing our own parables is an exercise related to that of becoming con-temporary synoptic gospel writers. In this exercise, however, students were not expected to use the texts of the New Testament. They were to compose a story, based on their own personal experience, to communicate one dimen-sion of their lived understanding of what it means to receive and share the gift of God's love. Creating our own parables is doing what Jesus did; in some respects, it can express a greater fidelity to the Gospel truth than the merely mechanical repetition of Jesus' parables. John Drury relates that the poet Edwin Muir in his autobiography saw his own life as a narrative on the two levels of individual difference and shared mystery, calling them story and fable.~ Story refers to a man's biography where fact is linked to fact: birth and parents, changes of address, marriage and jobs. It marks him off from other people. It is his alone. But the fable is always impinging on it. This is chain of images and archetypes which we do not entirely understand and which only become clear in dreams, visions and myths: the country of innocence, the fall, the journey and transfiguration. Thus story tells us that when the poet was a boy, the Muir family moved from a good farm on the Orkneys to a bad one, and then to Glasgow. But what is happening in the realm of fable is a fall from innocence into experience and alienation. It is in the realm of fable that we have our deepest connections with one another. In biography we are distinct. It must be to the fable that his Wife Willa refers when she says that "he never ceased to believe that his expe-rience resembled the experience of everyone else living on earth.''3 The quality of our experience ultimately determines the shape of our autobiographies, biographies, histories, novels, parables, stories of God, the-ologies. We express in these manifold ways what can be found within our conscious experience on successive, related, but qualitatively different levels: the empirical on which level we sense, perceive, imagine, feel, speak, move; the intellectual level on which we inquire, come to understand, express what we have understood, work out the implications and presuppositions of our 2John Drury, Angels and Dirt (London: Dhrton, Longman & Todd, i972) p. 50. Write a Gospel / 673 expressions; the rational level, on which we reflect, marshal the evidence, judge the truth or falsity, certainty or probability, of a statement; the respon-sible level on which we are concerned with ourselves, our own operations, our goals, and so ddiberate about possible courses of action, evaluate them, de-cide and carry out our decisions.' Our manifold ways of storytelling, of phi-losophizing and of theologizing, are indices of what is going on at the four levels of our consciousness and inten.tionality; they are objectifications of our conscious intending of the true and the real, of the good and the worthwhile, as unique individuals with a unique history. As such, they are objectifications which are not deduced from abstract laws about human nature in general; rather, they derive from the concrete life-stories of individuals in search of true meaning and value. The authenticity of our lives grounds the authentici-ty of the manifold ways in which we objectify our search. 'Bernard Lonergan, Method in Theology (London: Darton, Longman & Todd, 1972), p. 9. See also T. Patrick Burke, "The Theologian as Storyteller and Philosopher," Horizons 4/2 (1977), p. 207. Response to Psalm 137 How sing a song of the Lord in a foreign land? With muted voice probably, With tear-stained cheek most likely, With" breaking heart no doubt. But the Lord lives. So sing, then! Take your harp from the aspen tree! Sing not for your captors. Sing to the Lord who loves, Sing to the Lord who listens! Brother Franklin Cullen, C.S.C. Moreau High School 27170 Mission Blvd. Hayward, CA 94544 Jesus Christ, the Mediator of Catholic Charismatic Life Frederick J. Deters, S.J. Father Deters is an assistant professor of theology at Loyola University (Chicago). He resides in the Jesuit community there, 6525 North Sheridan Rd.; Chicago, IL 60626. Periodically there have appeared through Church history numerous men and women, individually and in groups, claiming to be filled with the Holy Spirit but all the while separating themselves from the unity of that Spirit as he was working in God's People. Most of us have heard of the Montan-ists, the Albigensians and the Joachimites--to cite only a few. Such knowledge of the past should dispose us to careful discernment when it comes' to accepting the inspirations oF yet others today who also claim to be Spirit-filled. But we must remember that spiritual discernment is not a form of natural cynicism. Those whom the Gospel calls to the shrewdness of serpents, are also summoned to the simplicity of doves and the openness of children. The point I am making here is that we can do without phony enthusiasm or false mysticism, but we cannot do without the Holy Spirit and his ,gifts. Vatican 1I was explicit in reaffirming the giftedness of all God's chil-dren. There, Catholic pastors were encouraged to see that the people were in fact led by the Spirit of God and that the charisms of each Christian be recognized and readily employed for the upbuilding of Christ's Body. Catholic life is charismatic life. In the true meaning of the words, the Catholic Church has been, and will continue to be. charismatic--or it will cease to be the Church of Christ on pilgrimage to the Father. Though in the past the various charisms have. in theologizing within Roman Catholicism, 674 Jesus Christ, the Mediator of Catholic Charismatic Life / 675 been.chiefly linked with both religious orders and ecclesial offices, there has never been lacking individual persons recognized for possessing the gifts of the Spirit. In such individuals, however, the genuineness of the gifts was ever attested by the loyalty and obedience with which they submitted to the guidance and direction of their communities and pastors. Given the: tension that must ever prevail between certain charisms and the exercise of, ecclesial offices, what, if anything, can theology point to as a touchstone for understanding their mutual harmony' and interaction? I am convinced that the answer to this question can be nothing or no one other than Jesus Christ, our One Lord and Mediator. In the following pages I propose a new look at both the Lordship and the mediatorial activity of Jesus Christ. As Jesus acts through the charismatic life of his people, he reveals the true character of his Lordship. At the same time, his authentic sovereignty manifests his mediation of life in charismatic activity. ~ What Does the Lordship o~ Jesus Mean? The emphasis that marks Catholic rehewal today is an ancient acclama-tion of faith: "Jesi~s is Lord!" This confession is chanted, sung and pro-claimed, not only by increasing numbers of men and women in the United States, but, ttiroughout th~ world. From early Christian times, it was the credal formula used in cofijunction with sacramental baptism. This practice was in evidence in the Roman Chur~:h. In his epistle tothe Romans, Paul writes: "For if you confess with y?ur lips that Jesus is Lord, and believe in your hearts that God raised~ him from the dead, you will be saved.''~ Baptism by im'mersion folloffed this professionl the descent into the water symbolizing death with Christ to a world of sin, the emergence from the pool manifesting a new walk with Christ in risen life. The washing both symbolized and celebrated the actual washing away of sin by the life-giving action of the Holy Spirit. God, the Blessed Trinity, was seen by faith to fill the" new Christian with his presence and life. Christian baptism was the authentic sign of°faith. Even so, the ,newly baptized and the com-munity gathered with him or her in celebration knew that this marked but the start ofc0mmunion with God's life. The ceremony brought with'it, a call tb live as Christ had lived, and, as the gra'ced opportunity was given, to die as he had died; to suffer death, that is, by witnessing to the hope of i:esur-rection. " ~ As the early Church lived and grew, Christians continued to know the power of ihi~ Lord's presence within them. In a true sense, there was no need for'anyone to tell these men'and women to "'know the Lord." They knew him and found a deep and salutary relationship with him in their lives. But they also knew one another through him just as they knew him through ~Ro 10:9. 676 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 one another by reason of his ongoing action in their midst. For Jesus continued to teach, direct, and sanctify through them. Their knowledge that God was interiorly within them as individuals was accompanied likewise by their awareness in faith that they were in Christ and that even the world of physical nature and material reality found its center in him. In fact, Jesus was known as Lord, not only of the visible elements of the Christian community, but of the external universe as well. He was Lord of all things, both visible and invisible. Paul voices this conviction when he speaks of the fullness of God in Christ: He is the image of the invisible God, the first born of all creatures. In him everything in'heaven and on earth was created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominations, principalities or powers; all were created through him, and for him. He is before all else that is. In him everything continues in being. It is he who is head of the body, the Church; he who is the beginning, the firstborn of the dead, so that primacy may be his in everything. It pleased God to make absolute fullness reside in him and by means of him, to reconcile everything in his person, both on earth and in the heavens, making peace through the blood of his cross.2 For Paul, the Lordship of Jesus is always related to Christ's humble obedience unto death. Just as the whole universe is depicted in the Epistle to the Romans as being in slavery to decadence due to sin, so the universe has, objectively speaking, been freed by Christ's death and is now in a process of renewal under his risen Lordship. But the Lordship of Jesus, whereby creation is renewed, represents a dominion won through Christ's suffering and death. This is also the theme of Philippians, Ch~apter 2, where Jesus' obedience unto death wins for him the title of Lord, the Name above every other name. Commenting on this latter passage, Robert Faricy writes: "In. his death Jesus descends into the heart of the world so that, in his resurrection, he can be the heart of the world, Lord in a true and even ontological sense, not simply appointed or named juridically, but Lord in such a way that to uproot him would be to make the world cease to exist.'''~ From this perspective Jesu~ has won his Lordship. He secured spiritual freedom from the dominion of the world of sin, death and the devil; not in the sense that he was personally held by these things; but, that vicariously he endured the Sufferings due to our sins in his own human nature in order that we might share his Lordship, his fieedom from them. So when the Christian, either of Paul~s time or our days says--"Jesus is Lord"--he professes the spiritual freedom of Christ in which his profession leads him to share. Since Jesus' Lordship is one that proclaims the reconciliatibn of every-thing, the Christian is called to a freedom that knows no base subjection to :Col 1:15-20. aFrank A. Sullivan, S.J., and Robert Faricy, S.J., lgnatian Exercises---Charismatic Renewal (Rome: Centrum lgnatianum Spirituatitatis, 1977). p. 36. Jesus Christ, the Mediator of Catholic Charismatic Life / 677 anything or anyone for their own sakes. The Christian is one who belongs to Christ himself: "All things are yours, but you are Christ's and Christ is God's!''4 So we all await that moment when at last Christ will hand over the kingdom to the Father and God will be all in all) The paradoxical converse of this, however, is that Christ's Lordship calls the Christian to spiritual freedom through the same kind of humble obedience that led Christ to surrender his very life into the Father's hands for our sake. It seems to be in this same spirit that Paul tells the Ephesians: "Defer to one another out of reverence for Christ.''6 And Peter's First Epistle calls upon Christians not only to be subject to church officials but to "every human institution" . . . "because of the Lord" for ~'such obedi-ence is the will of God." 7 Note that in all these cases subjection is rendered ¯ out of deference to Christ, who for the sake of our freedom took the form of a slave. As the Gospel account insists, Christ came not so much to be served, but to serve in the sense of giving his life as a ransom for many. To be authentic, our participation in Christ's Lordship will involve a share in his cross. Our service for each other will entail a daily crossbearing; it will ~ilso involve subjection, out of love for Christ the Lord. Jesus Provides Gifts for Service and Freedom Here we have come to the heart of Jesus' mediatorial activity for the Mystical Body. Insofar as we know the presence of Christ among us com-munally as well as within us individually, we long for the total celebration of that life in communal fellowship. It is for such a life that Christ provided by the distribution of the charisms and charismatic gifts of the Holy Spirit. What is a charism? It is a gift given foi service of some kind. It is a new and special way of relating to the Lord. At the same time, it is a call to serve with the power of the Holy Spirit given to fulfill that call. The word "charism," from the Greek word meaning gift, appears frequently in the Pauline writings of the New Testament. There are a number of references that we might cite; for our purposes here we will limit ourselves for the present to an examination of Paul's epistle to the Ephesians: Each of us h'as received God's grace in the measure in which Christ bestows it. Thus you find Scripture saying: "When he ascended on high, he took a host of captives and gave gifts to men." He ascended--what does this mean but that he first descended into the lower regions of the earth? He who descended is the very one who ascended high above the heavens, that he might fill all men with his gifts. Then Paul continues by telling us what some of Christ's gifts are: 41 CO 3:23. ~1 Co 15:28. 6Ep 5:21. 7See 1P 2:13-15 and 5:5. 678 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 It is [Christ]~who gave apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers in roles of service0for the, faithful to build up the Body of Christ. till we become one in faith and in the knowledge of God's Son, and form that perfect man who is Christ come to full stature,s This passage tells us that Christ mediates God's favor for the Mystical Body through his gifts. Here Paul speaks of apostles, prophets,.evangelists, pastors and teachers; and the writer cites specific roles of service for up-b, uilding the Christian community. The enumeration includes charisms or gifts of the Holy Spirit given by Christ for the Mystical ~Body. In the development of the Church ,certain of these functions, would often, though not always, come to be exercised by those who held ecclesial offices. Evidence for this is already provided by Scripture in the Pastoral epistles. Here we are told how Paul, just before his death, entrusted the care of the Church at Ephesus to Timothy and that of Crete to Titus. These two men represent the first scriptural evidence for the appearance of bishops on the Church scene. With an eye to future continuity, they, in turn, are told in these epistles to establish, other bishops and presbyters throughout their respective territories in order to continue the pastoral ministry of the Church begun by the apostles. Paul is even represented here as ordaining Timothy. So we read: "'Hence I remind you to rekindle the gift of God that is within you through the laying on of my hands."%Whatever else these epistles tell us when read together, it seems true that certain of the charismatic roles of service mentioned in the,epistle to the Ephesians were likewise authenticated by visible sacramental celebration within and for the community. Consequently, there was nothing contradictory or in-harmonious between the charismatic gifts and hierarchical ,gifts present in the early Church. Outside of Scripture the ancient document called the Didache or The Teaching of the Twelve Apostles contains this injunction: "Choose for yourselves, therefore, bishops and deacons worthy of the Lord . . . for ttiey also exercise among you the ministry of prophets, and doctors." ~0 According to Roman Catholic theology, in fact, it is through the episco-pal office of the bishop of Rome and of those who are in communion with him (hat the charism of infallible teaching authority is assured to the Church. In order that the gates of hell should not prevail against the Church, bishops continue to exercise the pastoral and teaching role once committed to Peter and the original band of Apostles. If the episcopal office in union with the pope is not assured the charism of authentic pastoral and teaching authority, then no one has the gift of teaching, no matter how "See Ep 4:7-13. ~T Tm 1:6. l°Doctrina Doudecim Apostolorum, XV. # I. in Funk. Patres Apostolicae, 1901. Vol. II. pp. 32-34. Jesus Christ, the Mediator of Catholic Charismatic Life / 679 charismatic he or she may seem to be. It was first to Peter and the apostles together with their successors in the episcopate that Christ's promise was made in a special way: "'You are Peter and on this rock I will build my church and the Gates of Hell shall not prevail against it."" And to this end also, Christ promises to be with them, and so with us, until the end of the world. Finally, it is to the bishops as authentic pastors of the Church that Catholics endowed with charisms must defer. Speaking of charisms, Vati-can 1I teaches that " . . judgment as to their genuineness and proper use belongs to those who preside, over the church and to whose special com-petence it belongs, not indeed to extinguish the Spirit, but to test all things, and to hold fast to what is good (see 1 Th 5:12, 19-20).''~z Because Jesus is the One Lord and Mediator of gifts (hat are hierarchical as well as the strictly charismatic ones, he assures a marvelous harmony between them. Because this harmony and. unity is a real gift and an authentic mark of Christ:.s Church, it calls forth an appropriate response from every member of the Body. So Paul exhorts the Ephesians: I plead with you. then, as a prisoner for the Lord. to live a life worthy of the calling ,you have received, with perfect humility, meekness and patience, bearing with one another lovingly. Make every effort to preserve the unity which has the Spirit as its origin and peace as its binding force. There is bul one body and one Spirit,just as there is but one hope given all of you by your call. There is one Lord, one faith, one baptism: One God and Father of all who is over all, and works through all and is in ,,all.l:~ Disregard for Charism: and Office ~ Still it is today part of our sad inheritance that these words have not always been heeded. Heresies and schisms among Christians manifest the sin of our divisions. And this sin has been admitted and confessed in our time. Many of us are the descendants of Reformation and Counter- Reformation forebearers who themselves bore some responsibility for our presept divisions. So Vatican II officially recognizes that there were sins on both sides. BUt we today are no less .responsible than they. It is our vocation to open up our hearts to the.healing of such divisions that the Mystical Body of Christ on .earth might be made whole, and that the world might come to faith through its corporate and united witness. Some Catholic theologians today interpret the sin-sickness of Christian division as lack of openness to the presence and action of Jesus Christ in one another. From this perspective, the Reformation represents the Protes-tant rejection of the hierarchical gifts which the Catholic believes to be the ~tMt 16:18-19. ~ZDogmatic Constitution on the Church. Ch. II. "The People of God," ~ 12, in Abbot. p. 30. ~aEp 4: I-6, ~ Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 very heart of charismatic life in the Church. For the Catholic, to reject them is to reject Christ who said ".He who hears you hears me." The Catholic, Counter-Reformation era, on the other hand, manifests a certain deafness, or at least a hesitancy on the part of Catholics to attend to the charismatic voices of prophetic protest that should have been heeded sooner. Avery Dulles calls attention to the fact that within the Catholicism of the Middle Ages (the Pre-Reformation period) there was a lively and healthy tension between the prophetic and sacerdotal elements of the one charis-matic Church of Christ. It was the age of Bernard of Clair~,aux, Francis of Assisi and Catherine of Siena. But as time progressed, the institutional features began to assert themselves more and more. Reflecting on these facts Dulles concludes: The history of the Reformation might have been quite different if the church in the sixteenth century had been more open to searching scrutiny in light of the gospel. In post-Reformation times, the history of western Christianity is dominated by the prophetism of the Reformation churches and the sacredotalism of the Catholic tradi-tion. In a separation that ought never to have occurred, churches of the word were arrayed against churches of the sacrament?4 According to the foregoing analysis, the healing of sinful divisions and the restoration of a loving unity among separated Christians will depend on our openness to Jesus Christ, whether he comes to bring us fuller life through charismatic individuals (even those presently outside the visible structures of Roman Catholicism), or through the charismatic offices of the visible church. It seems that our closedness to either aspect of Christ life today is a tragedy that will only continue to bear bitter fruit. In summarizing some of" Karl Rahner's remarks on the charismatic element in the Church, Gerald McCool says very succinctly: The hierarchy has an indispensable role to play in the Church. Her founder has given I~gitimate authority to the pastors of his community. Nevertheless the Church's teaching and sanctifying mission has not been entrusted exclusively to her office holders and the Church must be extremely sensitive to the personal intimations of God's will and to the pastoral inspirations which have been given to charismatic individual Christians. The Church's leaders must not endeavor to manage everything in the Church "from the top down." They must rather encourage apostolic initiative "from the bottom up" on the part of charismatic individuals and charismatic pastors. The Church ideal is the harmonious cooperation of her hierarchical and charismatic elements. It should never be the absorption or the elimination of one element by the other.~5 This summary represents the position of Karl Rahner, a teaching whose basis was first enucleated in the Encyclical letter of Pius XII, Mystici Corporis, and whose substance finds expression in the teaching of Vatican II on cha~'i~m~ ~Avery Dulles. The Survival o.t'Dogma (Doubleday: 1973). p. 133. ~Gerald A. McCool, S.J., editor's introduction to the section entitled "'The Charismatic Element in the Church," in A Rahner Reader (Seabury Press, New York: 1975), p. 293. Jesus Chr&t, the Mediator of Catholic Charismatic Life / 681 The ideal harmony and unity described in this teaching is really the gift of unity St. Paul speaks of in the fourth chapter of Ephesians. It is the unity of the Spirit that can come from none other than the Lord himself. By this very fact, it is not just some obscure or impersonal unity; rather, it is the dynamic and living unity of a Body that lives from moment to moment in a surrender of agapeic love whose very center is Christ and whose goal is the Father's glory. The Vision and Faith of Authentic Charismatics Because this gift of unity speaks of love, it implies sacrifice in the form of death to any self-centeredness that would threaten authentic unity. For the charismatic individual as well as for the ecclesiastical office-holder it demands ". perfect humility, meekness and patience, bearing wil~h one another lovingly." An authentic Catholic charismatic might well be the "man for all seasons" who is willing to suffer martyrdom rather than reject the word of Christ in his legitimate pastor. And the good pastor, like a good shepherd, might be one who fulfills his charismatic office by acknowledging and encouraging Christ's activity in prophetic individuals who can further the life of the flock. An example of this might well be Paul VI, as evidenced in his Apostolic Exhortation On Evangelization in the Modern World. He wrote: It is certain that, side-by-side with the ordained ministries whereby certain people are appointed pastors and consecrate themselves in a special way to the service of the community, the church recognizes the place of non-ordained ministries which are able to offer a particular service to the Church. A glance at the origins of the Church is very illuminating, and gives the benefit of an early experience in the matter of ministries. It was an experience that was all the more valuable in that it enabled the Church to consolidate herself and to grow and spread. Attention to the sources however has to be complemented by attention to the present needs of mankind and of the Church. To drink at these ever inspiring sources without sacrificing anything of their values, and at the same time to know how to adapt oneself to the demands and needs of today-- these are the criteria that will make it possible to seek wisely and to discover the ministries which the Church needs and which many of her members will gladly embrace for the sake of ensuring greater vitality in the ecclesial community. These ministries will have a real pastoral value to the extent that they are established with absolute respect for unity and adhering to th.e directives of the pastors, who are the ones responsible for the Church's unity and the builders thereof.~a With an eye to past history, I think you will agree that this is a hearten-ing statement, one that manifests remarkable openness to the initiatives and inspirations of the Holy Spirit for our times. But the realization of such hopes for a vital, charismatic life whose fruit and goal is Catholic unity may still seem somewhat visionary. If it does, perhaps that is understandable. The authentic unity of the Church, in order to be fully realized, must await ~Paul VI. On Evangelization in the Modern World (Publications Office of the United States Catholic Conference: Washington. D.C.). p. 53. 682 / Review for Religious, Volum.e 38, 1979/5 ,the return of the Lord. Still, the degree of its realization in the time that intervenes mustdepend on our faith and expectation. So we might°conclude our remarks by asking the question that Christ himself once posed: "When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth'?" Or again we might ask, Is Jesus Christ Lol'd? To which we proclaim: "'Jesus Christ is Lord!" "Come, Lord Jesus!" REPRINTS FROM THE REVIEW "Instruction on the Renewal of Religious Formation" S.C. for Religious . 35 "Prayer of Personal Reminiscence," D. J. Hassel, S.J." . 60 "Profile of the Spirit:,A Theology of Discernment of Spirits," J. R. Sheets, S.J . 50 "Retirement or Vigil," B. Ashley, O.P. " . 30 "The 'Active-Contemplative' Problem," D. M. Knight .75 "The Contemporary Spirituality, of the Monastic Lectio," M. Neuman, O.S.B . 50 "The Four Moments.of Prayer," J. R. Sheets, S.J. . : . 50 "The Healing of Memories," F. Martin . 35 "The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat," H. F. Smith, S.J . 35 Orders for'the above should be Sent to: Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, MO 63108 Please include 75¢ postage and handling charge with preopaid orders. The Proposed Canons on the Consecrated Life Explained: III Joseph F. Ga/len, S.J. This is the third article commenting on the p~:oposed new canon law dealing with the consecrated life. Father Gallen's address is: Jesuit Community at St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Chapter V: Temporal Goods and the Consecrated Life Carl. 37, § 1. Norm and Right of Institutes Concerhing Temporal Goods. Norm. The law that her~'regu,!ates institutes of consecrated life is the section of the proposed canons on church possessions, or' ecclesiastical goods, which is the universal'law of the Chhrch on this matter. Institutes are to be guided by a different or co~trfiry norm that is established elsewhere on a particular matter in common law or that l~as otherwise been approved by the Holy See. . § 2. t~ight of Owning Property. a) Temporal Goods or Property. These are goods extrinsic to man that have a value in money, for example, money, real estate, stocks, bonds, furniture, equipment, clothing, books, and so forth. The present canon is concerned only with property owned by. an institute, province, canonically, erected house, or other public juridical person of the institute, not with that owned by individual religious. Goods of the former type are called church or ecclesiastical property, since the'y are owned by a public juridical person in the Church. b) Capacity: Every institute of consecrated life, province, or canonically erected house is~ an ecclesiastical public juridical person and possesses, in vir-tue 6f can. 13, the unlimited right of acquiring, owning, and administering 683 684 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 temporal property. This canon reads: "Any juridical person, whether public or private, is a subject capable of acquiring, retaining and administering temporal goods in accordance with the law." The capacity of an institute, province or house to acquire or own property is given by canon law and is not limited by canon law. The capacity extends to all species of property, for ex-ample, to immovable and movable goods. The former consists of things which are at least considered as being unable to be moved from place to place, for example, lands, a church, chapel, school, hospital, and so forth, and rights on such property. Movable property is that which can be so moved, for example, clothing, furniture, equipment, and so forth. The same capacity extends to all rights of use and/or receiving returns on property, for example, interest, dividends, and rents. c) Exclusion or Limitation of Capacity. The present proposed canon, .as in the past, permits the particular Rule or constitutions to exclude or limit the proprietary capacity described above. Such limitations are practically never found in institutes of brothers or sisters but they are encountered in some older institutes of men and women. Mendicant institutes are either complete-ly or partially incapable of possessing property from which they have the right to certain., and stable returns (Friars Minor of the Observance, Capuchins, Discalced Carmelites, and Jesuits). An institute may prescribe that the property acquired is to be spent for works and needs and that none or only a limited amount may be retained as capital. It may be enacted that the ownership of all property is invested in the institute, not in the provinces or houses or only subordinately in these. Acquisition by inheritance may be ex-cluded absolutely or through all or some of the members. Before adopting any such limitation, an institute should make a searching investigation into its efficacy as a means of poverty and its practicality in relation to the life and work of the institute. A constant emphasis on fundamental spiritual princi-ples and those specific to poverty can very likely be a more effective means than juridical incapacities or limitations. I have encountered practically no more recent institute of simple vows that has followed any of these practices of some more ancient institutes of solemn vows. The axiom that the decline of the consecrated life is caused by a decline in poverty or prayer may in fact be the reverse, that is, poverty or prayer declines because the spiritual life in general has declined. d) Ownership of Property. Can. 14 reads: "Ownership of goods belongs, under the supreme authority of the Roman Pontiff, to that legal person which legitimately acquired the same goods." Therefore, unless otherwise prescribed by the particular law, property is owned by the juridical person that acquired it. Houses, provinces, and institutes are distinct canonical per-sons; therefore, the assets and debts of one are not those of another. The Holy See holds the supreme administration of all church property in the sense that it is to be acquired, owned, and administered according to the laws and under the authority of the Church (can. 18). Civil incorporation has been ex, The Proposed Canons on the Consecrated Life: III / 685 plained under can. 9. In the proposed canons: can. 28, § 2, 2°,commands ad-ministrators of ecclesiastical property to observe canon and civil law; can. 42, § 1, commands that civil laws regarding the leasing of property should be observed; can. 44, that the provisions of civil law on contracts are also to be observed by canon law; and can. 45, § 2, that in dispositions to pious causes made by bequest, the solemnities of civil law should be observed whenever possible. e) Manner of Acquisition. A juridical person of the consecrated life may acquire property, temporal goods, in any manner that is lawful to individuals according to the natural law, for example, the fruit of one's labor, donations, purchases, inheritance, legacy, or according to the positive law of the Church or state, for example, by contracts or wills in conformity with such laws. f) Property of Institute and Province. The general funds consist of the payments of novices, the interest on dowries, and the dowry itself at the death of a sister. Donations, legacies, and inheritances, when given to either, also belong to the institute or province, as do the taxes on the houses for the general and provincial expenses. These are used for the expenses of the gener-al or provincial government, of the novitiate, juniorate, education and for-mation of the members, central infirmary, the erection of houses, the assistance of the poorer works and houses and, if possible, the establishment of a reserve fund for extraordinary expenses, and of a capital fund that will serve as a source of regular income for all or some of these purposes. g) General and Provincial Tax. The general and provincial expenses listed above are clearly necessary. They are for the good of the entire institute or province and must, at least in great part, be defrayed by contributions from the provinces and houses. Two species of taxation are found in constitutions: One-third of the Net Surplus of the Past Year. According to the Normae of 1901 (no. 294), each house was obliged to send this sum at the end of each year to the provincial or general treasury, if there were no provinces, and each province had to send the same fraction of its net surplus to the general treasury. This is still the norm of a sufficient number of institutes. The tax should be sufficient to take care of the general, and provinci.al expenses; it should not burden all or some of the provinces and houses excessively nor prevent the establishments of the institute from setting up a reserve fund for proper maintenance and development. An obvious defect of this system is that it is only a contingent payment. It depends on the fact of a surplus. The general and provincial expenses are absolute and constant; the tax should therefore be an absolute element of the house and provincial budgets. It should be condoned or lessened when a province or house simply cannot pay it. o. Determined Sum for Each Member. A more modern and preferable norm found in many constitutions more recently approved by the Holy See is that the determination of the amount of the tax is left to the general chapter, which can then increase or decrease it as the times and circumstances de- 686 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/5 mand. The chapter often determines that each house is to contribute a .fixed sum annually for each member assigned to the house. A fractional part of such a sum may then be assigned to the general funds when the institute is divided into provinces, or each pro

Issue 23.5 of the Review for Religious, 1964. ; Constitution on the Liturgy by Vatican Council II 561 About the Constitution on the Liturgy by Paul VI 592 Persons and the Religious Life by Paul J. Bernadicou, S.J. 596 Work: A Becoming Process by Sister M. Judith, O.S.B. 604 Utilizing the Psychologist's Report by Alan F. Greenwald 612 Decision-Making by Richard M. McKeon 616 Positive Examination of Conscience by Daniel L. Araoz, S.J. 621 Examination of Conscience for the Religious Woman by Sisters Vincent Ferrer and M. Elizabeth, S.P. 625 Ancient Abbess and Modern Superior by Sister Marie Estelle, &D.S., 633 The Need to Be Needed by;Sister Teresa Margaret, O.D.C. 644 Survey of Roman Documents 652 Views, News, Previews 657 Questions and Answers 660 Book Reviews 666 VOLUM~ 23 September 1964 VATICAN COUNCIL II Constitution on the Liturgy PAUL, BISHOP THE SERVANT OF THE SERVANTS OF GOD TOGETHER WITH THE FATHERS OF THE COUNCIL FOR A PERPETUAL RECORD OF THE MATTER 1. This Council,* dedicated as it is to the things that pertain to holiness, has the following aims as its objectives: the steady growth of the Christian life of the faithful; the better adaptation to the needs of our times of those things that are subject to change; the fostering of whatever can contribute to the uniting of all believers in Christ; and the strengthening of whatever conduces to the leading of all men into the Church's fold. It is because of these aims that the Council is convinced that it is also its duty to make special provisions for the renewal and the promotion of the sacred liturgy. 2. For the liturgy, through which, especially in the di-vine Eucharistic sacrifice, "the work of our redemption is continued," 1 is of the highest importance in bringing it about that the faithful by their lives express and manifest to others the mystery of Christ and the genuine nature of the true Church. It is characteristic of the Church to be at one and the same time human and divine, visible yet endowed with invisible realities, devoted to action yet dedicated to contemplation, present in the world and yet * The original Latin text of the Constitution appeared in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 56 (1964), pp. 97-138. In this translation, chapter titles, subtitles, and paragraph numbers are taken from the original. x Secret of the Ninth Sunday after Pentecost. ÷ ÷ ÷ Vatican Council 11 VOLUME 23, 1964 561 ÷ ÷ ¥ot~:mt o~nci~ I! REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 562 a pilgrim in the world. These aspects of the Church axe so constituted that the human in her is directed and sub-ordinated to the divine, the visible to the invisible, action to contemplation, the present world to that future city for which we are striving.2 Those who are within the Church are day by day built up by the liturgy into a temple cou-secrated to the Lord, into a dwelling place for God in the Spirit) into the complete development of the fullness of Christ.4 At the same time the liturgy notably strengthens their power to preach Christ, and in this way it shows the Church to those who are outside her as the standard lifted up among the nations5 under which the scattered sons of God may be gathered together into unity0 to the extent that there may be one fold and one shepherd.7 3. Wherefore, this Council judges that it should call attention to the following principles concerning the pro.- motion and the renewal of the liturgy and that it should set forth practical norms in the matter. Among these principles and norms there are some which can and should be applied both to the Roman rite and to all the other rites. The practical norms, however, which are given below are to be understood as applying only to the Roman rite except in the case of those which in the very nature of things affect other rites as well. 4. Finally, this Council, in faithful obedience to tradi-tion, affirms that the Church considers all lawfully recog-nized rites to be of equal right and dignity; that she is determined to preserve them in the future and to foster them in every way; and that she desires that, where neces-sary, they be carefully revised in the spirit of sound tradi-tion and given a new vigor to meet the circumstances and the needs of today. CHAPTER I GENERAL PRINCIPLES ON THE RENEWAL AND PROMOTION OF THE SACRED LITURGY I. The Nature o[ the Sacred Liturgy and Its Importance [or the Li[e o[ the Church 5. God who "wishes all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth" (1 Tim 2:4) and who "at many times and in different ways formerly spoke to the fathers through the prophets" (Heb 1:1), when the fullness of time came, sent His Son, the Word become flesh, anointed :See Heb 13:14. sSee Eph 2:21-2. ~See Eph 4:13. nSee Is ll:12. nSee Jn 11:52. *See Jn 10:16. by the Holy Spirit, to proclaim the gospel to the poor, to heal the contrite of heart,s to be a "bodily and spiritual physician,''9 and to be the mediator between God and man.xo For His humanity in the unity of the persgn of the Word was the instrument of our salvation. Hence in Christ "there came forth the perfect achievement of our reconciliation and there was given to us the fullness of divine worship." 11 This work of human redemption and of perfect glori-fication of God to which the mighty works of God among the people of the Old Testament were a prelude was achieved by Christ the Lord principally through the pas-chal mystery of His holy Passion, His Resurrection from the dead, and His glorious Ascension whereby "dying He destroyed our death, and rising, he restored our life." 12 For from the side of Christ sleeping on the cross in death there came forth the wondrous sacrament of the whole Church.13 6. Accordingly, just as Christ was sent by the Father, so He Himself sent the Apostles, filled with the Holy Spirit, not only to preach the gospel to every creature1~ and to proclaim that the Son of God by His resurrection and death had freed us from the power of Satan1~ and from death and that He had brought us into the kingdom of the Father, but also to continue the work of salvation which they proclaimed. This they were to do by means of the sacrifice and the sacraments around which all liturgical life revolves. Thus, by baptism men are grafted on the paschal mystery of Christ;13 they receive the spirit of adop-tion as sons "in which we cry out: Abba, Father" (Rom 8:15), and they thus become those true worshipers whom the Father seeks.1T So also, whenever they eat the Lord's Supper, they proclaim the death of the Lord until He comes,is This was the reason why on that very day of Pentecost when the Church appeared in the world "those who welcomed the preaching" of Peter "were baptized." And they "continued in the teaching of the Apostles, in SSee Is 61:1; Lk 4:18. s St. Ignatius of Antioch, Ad Ephesios, 7,2; Patres apostolici, F. X. Funk, ed. (Tiibingen: H. Laupp, 1901), v. 1, p. 218. ~°See 1 Tim 2:5. a Sacramentarium Veronerme, C. Mohlberg, ed. (Rome: Herder, 1956), n. 1265, p. 162. ~ Roman Missal, Easter Preface. l~See St. Augustine, Enarrationes in psalmos, 138,2; "Corpus Christianorum," v. 40 (Turnholt: Brepols, 1956), p. 1991; and the Oration after the Second Reading of Holy Saturday in the Roman Missal before the reform of Holy Week. 1'See Mk 16:15. ~See Acts 26:18. l"See Rom 6:4; Eph 2:6; Col $:1; 2 Tim 2:11. ~ See Jn 4:23. ~See 1 Cor 11:26. 4. 4. 4. Liturgy 4. 4, 4. REV[EW FOR RELIG]OUS the sharing of the breaking of bread, and in prayer . They praised God continually, and all the people spected them" (Acts 2:41-7). From that time on, the Church has never failed to meet together in a body to celebrate the paschal mystery by reading those things "in all of Scripture that were about him" (Lk 24:27), by cele-brating the Eucharist in which "the victorious triumph of His death is once more made present," 10 and at the same time by giving thanks "to God for the indescribable gift" (2 Cot 9:15) possessed in Christ Jesus "to the praise of his glory" (Eph 1:12) through the power of the Holy Spirit. 7. For the accomplishment of so great a work, Christ is always present in His Church, especially in her liturgi-cal actions. He is present in the Sacrifice of the Mass not only in the person of His minister ("It is the same [Christ] who now makes the offering through the ministry of His priests and who formerly offered Himself on the cross" 2o) but especially in the Eucharistic species. By His power He is so present in the sacraments that when anyone baptizes, it is Christ Himself who baptizes.21 He is present in His word, for it is He who speaks when the Sacred Scriptures are read in the Church. Finally, He is present when the Church prays and sings; for it was He who made the promise: "When two or three have gathered together. in my name, I am right there among them" (Mr 18:20). It is true to say that Christ always associates the Church with Himself in this immense work whereby God is per-fectly glorified and men are made holy. She is His beloved Bride who calls out to her Lord and through Him offers her worship to the eternal Father. Rightly, then, is the liturgy regarded as an exercise of the priestly office of Jesus Christ in which human sanctifi-cation is signified by sensible signs and effected in a way corresponding to those signs and in which public worship in its entirety is performed by the Mystical Body of Jesus Christ, that is, by the Head and His members. Accordingly, every liturgical celebration, since it is a work of Christ the priest and of His Body which is the Church, is a surpassingly holy action the efficacy of which is equaled by no other action of the Church on the same ground and to the same degree. 19Council o~ Trent, Thi'rteenth Session, October 11, 1551, Decree on the Eucharist, c. 5; Goncilium Tridentinttm: Diariorum, actorttm, epistolarum, tractatuttm nova collectio, ed. by the Gfirres Society, t. 7 (Freiburg: Herder, 1961), p. 202. ~°Council of Trent, Twenty-second Session, September 17, 1562, Doctrine on the Sacrifice of the Mass, c. 2; Concilium Tridentinttm: Diariorttm, actorum, epistolarum, tractatuttrn nova collectio, ed. by the Gfirres Society, t. 8 (Freiburg: Herder, 1919), p. 960. a See St. Augustine, In loannis evangelium tractatus, VI, c. 1, n. 7; P.L., v. 35, col. 1428. 8. In the liturgy of this earth we share in a foretaste of that heavenly liturgy which is celebrated in the holy city of Jerusalem towards which we pilgrims are journeying and where Christ sits at the right hand of God as the minister of the holy things and of the true tabernacle;22 together with all the troops of the heavenly army we sing a hymn of glory to the Lord; when we honor the memory of the saints, we hope for a share in fellowship with them; we wait for the Savior, our Lord Jesus Christ, until He our life will appear and we in turn will appear with Him in glory.:~3 9. The sacred liturgy does not exhaust the entire range of the Church's activity. Before men can come to the lit-urgy, they must be called to faith and conversion: "How can they call on someone in whom they have never be-lieved? And how can they believe in someone of whom they have never heard? And how can they hear unless there is someone to preach? But how can there be preachers unless they are sent?" (Rom 10:14-5). For this reason the Church proclaims the news of salva-tion to unbelievers so that all men may know the one true God and Jesus Christ whom He sent and that they may be converted from their ways by doing penance,z* And to believers also the Church must always preach faith and penance; she must prepare them for the sacraments; she must teach them to obey whatever Christ has com-manded; 2~ and she must draw them to all the works of charity, of piety, and of the apostolate, for it is by these works that it becomes clear that the faithful, though not of this world, are nevertheless the light of the world and are to give glory to the Father before men. 10. Nevertheless, the liturgy is the summit towards which the action of the Church is directed, and at the same time it is the source from which all her power flows. For all apostolic endeavors are ordered to the objective that all men, being made sons of God by baptism and faith, should come together in unity, should praise God in the midst of the Church, should take part in the Sacrifice, and should eat the Lord's Supper. The liturgy, in its turn, urges the faithful who have been filled "with the paschal mysteries" to be "one in holi-ness"; z6 it prays that "they hold fast in their lives what they have grasped by their faith"f7 and the renewal in the Eucharist of the covenant of the Lord with men draws the faithful into the compelling love of Christ and sets ~See Ap 21:2; Col 3:1; Heb 8:2. See Phil 3:20; Col $:4. ~See Jn 17:3; Lk 24:27; Acts 2:38. See Mt 28:20. Postcommunion of the Easter Vigil and of Easter Sunday. Collect of the Mass for the third ferial within the octave of Easter. 4- 4" 4" Liturgy VOLUME 23, 1964 565 them on fire. From the liturgy, therefore, and especially from the Eucharist, graces come to us as from a fountain; thereby there is achieved in the most effective way possi-ble that sanctification of men in Christ and that glorifica-tion of God which is the goal towards which all the other activities of the Church are directed. 11. But in order that this effectiveness be achieved in its fullness, it is necessary that the faithful come to the sacred liturgy with the right attitudes of soul, that they attune their minds to its voice, and that they cooperate with its supernatural grace lest they receive it to no purpose.~ Hence, in the celebration of the liturgy pastors of soul:~ must carefully see to it that not only are the laws for a valid and lawful celebration observed but also that the faithful take part in it in an intelligent, active, and en. riching way. 12. The spiritual life, however, is not limited to par-ticipation in the liturgy. Though the Christian is truly called to pray in common with others, yet he must also go into his own room to pray to the Father by himself;2~ in-deed, as the Apostle teaches, he must never cease praying.80 Furthermore, we are taught by the same Apostle to carry about in our bodies the death of Jesus so that the life of Jesus may be manifested in our mortal flesh,al It is for this reason that in the Sacrifice of the Mass we implore the Lord "to receive the offering of the spiritual victim" and to make out of us "an eternal gift" a2 for Himself. 13. Devotional practices of the Christian people, pro-vided they conform to the laws and norms of the Church, are highly recommended, especially when they are ap-proved by the Apostolic See. Devotional practices of individual churches also have a special value if they are done with the permission of the bishops and in accord~tnce with legitimately approved customs and books. But since the liturgy by its nature is far superior to them, all such practices should be such that they harmo-nize with the liturgical seasons and that they are in ac-cord with the liturgy, are derived from it in some way, and lead the people to it. II. Education in the Liturgy and Active Participation in the Liturgy ÷ 14. It is the earnest desire of the Church that all the ÷ faithful should be led to that full, intelligent, and active ÷ part in liturgical celebrations which is demanded by the Vatican Coundl H REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 566 See 2 Cor 6:1. ~*See Mt 6:6. ~°See 1 Th 5:17. ~See 2 Cor 4:10-1. The Secret of the second [erial within the octave of Pentecost. very nature of the liturgy and which, by reason of baptism, is the right and obligation of the Christian people, that "chosen race, kingly priesthood, holy nation, and pur-chased people" (1 Pt 2:9; see also 2:4-5). In the matter of the restoral and renewal of the sacred liturgy, this full and active participation of the entire people is the most important thing to be taken care of; for it is the primary and indispensable source from which the faithful draw a genuinely Christian spirit. Hence, in all their pastoral work pastors of souls must earnestly strive to accomplish this participation. But no real hope of realizing this can exist unless pas-tors of souls themselves are deeply imbued with the spirit and power of the liturgy and have become masters of it. For this reason, it is absolutely essential that measures should first of all be taken to ensure the liturgical educa-tion of the clergy. Therefore, this Council has passed the following enactments. 15. Professors who are appointed to teach the course in sacred liturgy in seminaries, in religious houses of study, and in theological faculties must be properly trained in their work at institutions that specialize in this area. 16. In seminaries and religious houses of study the course in the sacred liturgy is to be ranked among the compulsory and major courses, while in theological facul-ties it is to be ranked among the principal courses; and it is to be taught under its theological, historical, spiritual, pastoral, and juridical aspects. Furthermore, the profes-sors of other courses, especially those of dogmatic theology, of Sacred Scripture, and of spiritual and pastoral theology, should take care to expound the mystery of Christ and the history of salvation from the viewpoint of their own sub-jects in such a way that the relationship of these courses with the liturgy can be clearly seen as well as the unity that exists in the training of priests. 17. Clerics in seminaries and religious houses should be given a liturgical formation in their spiritual life. This should be done through an adequate introduction that enables them to understand the sacred rites and to par-ticipate in them wholeheartedly and through the actual celebration of the sacred mysteries together with other de-votional practices that are imbued with the spirit of the liturgy. They must likewise learn the observance of the liturgical laws in such a way that life in seminaries and in institutes of religious is profoundly shaped by the liturgi-cal spirit. 18. Priests, both diocesan and religious, who are al-ready working in the Lord's vineyard, are to be helped in every suitable way to achieve a better understanding of what they do when they perform their sacred functions, ÷ ÷ ÷ Liturg~ VOLUME 23, 1964 567 Vatican Council II REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS to live a liturgical life, and to communicate such a life to the faithful entrusted to them. 19. Pastors of souls must zealously and patiently pro~ mote the liturgical training of the faithful and their ac-tive participation, both internal and external, in accord-ance with their age, condition, type of life, and degree of religious background. In doing this, pastors will be ful-filling one of the chief duties of a faithful dispenser of the mysteries of God. In this matter, moreover, they must lead their flocks not only by their words but also by their ex-ample. 20. Radio and television transmissions of the sacred functions, especially in the case of Mass, are to be done with discretion and dignity under the direction and super-vision of a qualified person appointed by the bishops for that purpose. IlL The Renewal of the Sacred Liturgy 21. In order that in the sacred liturgy the Christian people may more surely derive an abundance of grace, the Church wishes to give careful attention to the general renewal of that liturgy. The liturgy is composed of un-changeable because divinely instituted elements and of other elements that are subject to change. These latter can vary in the course of time and they even should do so if there has crept in among them things that do not fully correspond to the inner nature of the liturgy or that have become less suited to it. In this renewal, both texts and rites should be so ar-ranged that they give a clearer expression to the holy things signified. As far as possible, these holy things should be able to be easily understood by the Christian people and to be taken part in by an active celebration proper to a community. Wherefore, this Council has set up the following general norms. ,4. General Norms 22. § 1. The regulation of the sacred liturgy depends solely on the authority of the Church; that is, on the Apostolic See and, within the limits of the law, on the bishop. § 2. In virtue of a power granted by law, the regulation of liturgical matters within certain defined limits also be-longs ~o the various kinds of competent and legitimately established territorial groupings of bishops. § 3. Therefore, no other person whatsoever, even if he be a priest, may on his own authority add, remove, or change anything in the liturgy. 23. In order that sound tradition be retained while let-ting the way be open to legitimate progress, revision of individual parts of the liturgy should always be preceded by a careful theological, historical, and pastoral investiga-tion. Moreover, consideration should be given both to the general laws of the structure and spirit of the liturgy as well as to the experience derived from recent liturgical reforms and from the indults granted at various times. Finally, innovations should not be introduced unless the genuine and certain good of the Church demands them; moreover, care should be taken that the new forms should in some way grow organically out of the forms now in existence. Insofar as it is possible, care must also be taken that notable differences in rites should not be used in ad-jacent regions. 24. Sacred Scripture is of the greatest importance in the celebration of the liturgy. From it Readings are read which are then explained in the homily; its Psalms are sung; from its influence and inspiration come the liturgi-cal prayers, collects, and hymns; and from it the actions and the signs of the liturgy receive their meaning. Hence, in order to achieve the renewal, progress, and adaptation of the sacred liturgy, there must be fostered that warm and living love of Sacred Scripture which is witnessed to by the venerable traditions of both the Eastern and Western rites. 25. As soon as possible, the liturgical books are to be revised with the help of experts and after consultation with bishops from various parts of the world. B. Norms Derived [rom the Hierarchical and Communitarian Nature o[ the Liturgy 26. Liturgical services are not private functions but celebrations of the Church which is the "sacrament of unity," the holy people united and ordered under the bishops.33 Hence, these services pertain to the whole. Body of the Church, both manifesting and influencing it; they affect individual members of the Church in different ways ac-cording to differences in rank, office, and actual participa-tion. 27. Whenever the rites, in accordance with their spe-cific nature, are compatible with community celebration involving the presence and active participation of the faithful, it should be stressed that such a celebration in-sofar as it is possible is preferable to an individual and quasi-private celebration. This is particularly true for the celebration of Mass (although every Mass is public and social in nature) and for the administration of the sacraments. ~St. Cyprian, De catholicae Ecclesiae unitate, 7, G. Hartel, ed., C.Sa~.L., t. 3.1 (Vienna: 1868), pp. 215-6. See also Epistle 66, n. 8, 3 in the same edition, t. 3.2 (Vienna: 1871), pp. 732-3. ÷ ÷ ÷ Liturgy VOLUME 23, 1964 ,569 ÷ + ÷ Fatican Coundl 11 REVIEW FOR REL~GIOUS 28. In liturgical celebrations each person, whether minister or layman, who has a part to carry out should perform all and only those things which pertain to his function according to the nature of the rite and the liturgi-caJ norms. 29. Servers, readers, commentators, and choir members perform a genuinely liturgical function. Hence, they are to perform their functions with the kind of sincere piety and correctness which befits so important a ministry and which the people of God rightfully expect. Hence, they must be imbued, each in his own way, with the spirit of the liturgy; and they must be trained to carry out their parts in a correct and orderly way. 30. In order to increase active participation, acclama., tions, responses, psalmody, antiphons, and hymns should be encouraged on the part of the people along with bodily actions, movements, and positions. And at its due time, a reverent silence should be observed. 31. In the revision of the liturgical books, care should be taken that the rubrics provide for the parts of the people. 32. In the liturgy, apart from the differences arising from liturgical function and from holy orders and from the honor due to civil authorities according to the norm of liturgical law, no special distinction is to be given in the ceremonies or in the external display to any private person or class of persons. C. Norms Derived [rom the Didactic and Pastoral Nature o[ the Liturgy 33. Although the sacred liturgy is principally the wor-ship of the divine majesty, it also includes a great deal of instruction for the faithful;34 for in the liturgy God speaks to His people and Christ still proclaims His gospel. And the people in turn respond to God in song and prayer. Moreover, the prayers addressed to God by the priest who presides over the assembly in the person of Christ are said in the name of the entire holy people and of all who are present. Finally, the visible signs used by the sacred liturgy to signify invisible divine realities have been chosen by Christ or the Church. Hence, not only when the things are read "which were written for our instruction" (Rom 15:4) but also when the Church prays or sings or acts, the faith of the participants is nourished, and their minds are lifted up to God so that they may give Him their reasonable service and receive His grace in a more abundant way. ~ See the Council of Trent, Twenty-third Session, September 17, 1562, Doctrine on the Sacrifice of the Mass, c. 8; Concilium Tridenti-hum: Diariorum, actorum, epistolarura, tractatuum nova collectio, ed. by the G6rres Society, t. 8 (Freiburg: Herder, 1919), p. 960. Wherefore the following norms are to be observed in the renewal of the liturgy. 34. The rites are to be distinguished by a noble sim-plicity; they should be brief and avoid useless repetitions; they should be within the comprehension of the faithful and, generally speaking, should not need much explana-tion. 35. In order that the intimate relationship between rite and words should be apparent in the liturgy: 1) In sacred services a richer, more varied, and more suitable Reading from Scripture should be brought back. 2) Since it is a part of the liturgical action, a more suit-able place should be given to the sermon as far as the nature of the rite allows; and this should be noted in the rubrics. The ministry of preaching should be responsibly performed with the utmost fidelity. Preaching should be principally derived from the source of Sacred Scripture and the liturgy, since it is a proclamation of the wondrous acts of God in the history of salvation, that mystery of Christ which is always present and operative among us especially in liturgical celebrations. 8) Instruction that is more directly liturgical is to be emphasized as much as possible. And in the rites them-selves, if it is necessary, provision should be made for brief remarks by the priest or the competent minister but only at suitable moments and in prescribed or similar words. 4) On the vigils of the more solemn feasts, on some of the weekdays of Advent and Lent, and on Sundays and feast days, Scripture services are to be encouraged espe-cially in places where there is no priest; in this latter case, a deacon or someone else delegated by the bishop is to direct the service. 36. § 1. The use of the Latin language is to be retained in the Latin rites, exception being made for particular cases provided for by law. § 2. Since, however, in Mass, the administration of the sacraments, and in other parts of the liturgy the use of the vernacular can frequently be of great advantage to the people, a wider use is to be given to it especially in the Readings and the instructional remarks and in some prayers and chants in accord with the norms for the matter to be laid down individually in the following chapters. § 3. These norms being observed, the decision on the use and the extent of the use of the vernacular is a matter for the competent territorial ecclesiastical authority men-tioned in article 22, § 2 after consultation, if the case war-rants it, with the bishops of adjacent regions of the same language; what is done in this matter is to be approved or confirmed by the Apostolic See. § 4. The translation of the Latin texts into the vernacu- + + + Liturgy VOLUME 23~ 1964 ¯ 571 lar for liturgical use must be approved by the competent territorial ecclesiastical authority mentioned above. Vatican Council I1 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS D. Some Norms [or Adapting the Liturgy to the Character and Traditions of Peoples 37. Even in the liturgy the Church does not desire to impose a rigid uniformity in matters which do not involve the faith or the welfare of the entire community; rather she respects and fosters the cultural qualities character-istic of various nations and peoples. She studies with sym-pathy and, if she can, preserves intact the things in a people's way of life that are not indissolubly linked to superstition and error; at times she even admits such things into the liturgy provided they fit in with the quali-ties of a genuine and true liturgical spirit. 38. Provided that the substantial unity of the Roman, rite is preserved, provision should be made in the revision of the-liturgical books for legitimate variations and adap-tations to different groups, regions, and peoples, especially in mission territories; this should be kept in mind as the occasion warrants when the structure of the rites and the rubrics thereof are drawn up. 39. Within the limits set down in the normative edi-tions of the liturgical books, it will pertain to the com-petent territorial ecclesiastical authority mentioned in article 22, § 2 to specify adaptations especially with regard to the administration of the sacraments and to sacra-mentals, processions, liturgical language, and sacred music and art, in accord, however, with the basic norms laid down in this Constitution. 40. In some places and circumstances there may be an urgent need for a profounder adaptation of the liturgy which may involve greater difficulties. Wherefore: 1) The competent territorial ecclesiastical authority mentioned in article 22, § 2 should carefully and prudently consider what pertinent elements of the characteristic traditions of individual peoples can be appropriately ad-mitted into divine worship. Adaptations which are judged to be useful or necessary are to be proposed to the Apos-tolic See and introduced with its consent. 2) In order that this adaptation may be done with all the circumspection necessary, the Apostolic See will grant to this same territorial ecclesiastical authority the power, as the case requires, to permit and direct for a determined period of time necessary preliminary experiments among certain groups suitable for that purpose. 3) Since in the matter of adaptation, especially in mis-sion territories, liturgical laws generally involve special difficulties, experts in the matters in question should be used in drawing up such laws. IV. Promotion o] Liturgical Life on the Diocesan and Parish Level 41. The bishop is to be considered as the principal priest of his flock from whom the life in Christ of his faithful is somehow derived and on whom it somehow de-pends. Hence, all should have the greatest esteem for the litur-gical life of the diocese centered around the bishop espe-cially in his cathedral church; they should be convinced that the principal manifestation of the Church is had in the plenary and active participation of the entire holy people of God in these same liturgical celebrations, espe-cially in the same Eucharist in a single prayer at one altar where the bishop presides surrounded by his college of priests and by his ministers.~ 42. Since the bishop cannot always and everywhere preside in person over the entire flock in his church, he is obliged to establish groupings of the faithful; among these groups parishes organized locally under a pastor acting in the place of the bishop hold the preeminent place, for in some way they represent the visible Church as it is con-stituted throughout the world. Hence, the liturgical life of the parish and its relation-ship to the bishop is to be fostered in the thought and practice of laity and clergy; and effort should be made to develop a parish sense of community, especially in the common celebration of Sunday Mass. V. Promotion of Pastoral Liturgical Action 43. Eagerness for the promotion and renewal of the sacred liturgy is rightly regarded as a sign o1~ the provi-dential plans of God for our age, as a movement of the Holy Spirit in His Church; it is a distinguishing mark that characterizes the life of the Church as well as the general religious mood in which our times think and act. Accordingly, to give greater encouragement to this pastoral liturgical action, the Council decrees the follow-ing. 44. It is desirable that the competent territorial ec-clesiastical authority mentioned in article 22, § 2 set up a liturgical commission to be assisted by experts in liturgy, music, sacred art, and pastoral practice. As far as it is possible, this commission should be aided by some kind of institute of pastoral liturgy composed of members eminent in these matters, and not excluding laymen if circum-stances warrant. Under the leadership of the territorial ecclesiastical authority mentioned above, it will be the ~ See St. Ignatius of Antioch, Ad Magnesianos, 7; Ad Philadelphe-nos, 4; ,4d Smyrnaeos, 8; Patres apostolici, F. X. Funk, ed. (Tiibingen: H. Laupp, 1901), v. 1, pp. 236, 266, 281. ÷ ÷ ÷ Liturgy VOLUME 23, 1964 Vatican Council H REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS duty of this commission to regulate pastoral liturgical action in its territory and to promote the research and the necessary experimentations whenever there is question of adaptations to be proposed to the Apostolic See. 45. In the same way there should be had in each dio-cese a commission of sacred liturgy to promote liturgical action under the direction of the bishop. At times it may be expedient for several dioceses to set: up a single commission to foster liturgical matters by com-mon consultation. 46. In addition to the commission on sacred liturgy, each diocese should also set up, as far as possible, a com-mission on sacred music and one on sacred art. It is necessary that these three commissions work to-gether in close collaboration; indeed it will frequently be best to join the three into a single commission. CHAPTER II THE SACRED MYSTERY OF THE EUCHARIST 47. At the Last Supper on the night He was betrayed, our Savior instituted the Eucharistic Sacrifice of His Body and Blood by which He perpetuated the sacrifice of the cross throughout the ages until He should come again; thereby He entrusted to the Church, His dearly beloved Bride, a memorial of His death and resurrection: a sacra-ment of holiness, a sign of unity, a bond of charity,3e a paschal banquet in which Christ is consumed, the mind is filled with grace, and a pledge of future glory is given to us.aT 48. Accordingly, the Church is greatly concerned that the faithful should not be present at this mystery of faith as though they were strangers or mute onlookers; rather, she desires that through a good understanding of the rites and prayers, they take an intelligent, devout, and active part in the sacred action. She wants them to be instructed by the word of God and nourished at the table of the Lord's Body. Her wish is that they give thanks to God and that they learn to offer themselves by offering the spotless Victim not only through the hands of the priest but also together with him. She wishes that through Christ the Mediatoras they should day by day be perfected in union with God and among themselves so that finally God may be all in all. 49. Having in mind the Masses celebrated in the pres-ence of the people especially on Sundays and holydays of ~ See St. Augustine, In loannis evangelium tractatus, XXVI, c. 6, n. 13; P.L., v. 35, col. 1613. ~ Roman Breviary, Magnificat Antiphon of Second Vespers of Corpus Christi. ~ See St. Cyril of Alexandria, Commentarium in Ioannis evan-gelium, bk. 11, cc. 11-2; P.G., v. 74, col. 557--64. obligation, the Council has enacted the following decrees in order that the Sacrifice of the Mass may attain its full pastoral efficacy even in the form of its ceremonies. 50. The Mass rite is to be revised in such a way that there will be a clearer manifestation of the characteristic nature of its individual parts as well as of their mutual relationship so that a devout and active participation of the faithful will be made easier. Therefore, the ceremonies are to be made simpler, though their substance is to be carefully preserved; parts which have been duplicated in the course of time or were added to no great advantage are to be omitted; and, to the extent that it seems useful or necessary, there should be a restoration in accord with the ancient norms of the holy fathers of elements which fell into disuse through accidents of history. 51. In order that the table of the word of God be spread more plentifully for the faithful, the treasures of the Bible are to be opened up more fully so that during a pre-scribed number of years the more important parts of the Sacred Scriptures are read to the people. 52. Since it is a part of the liturgy, there should be great esteem for the homily by which in the course of the liturgi-cal year the mysteries of faith and the norms of Christian life are expounded from the sacred text. In fact, at con-gregational Masses on Sundays and holydays of obligation, the homily is not to be omitted except for a serious reason. 53. The "common prayer" or the "prayer of the faith-ful" is to be restored after the Gospel and homily, espe-cially on Sundays and holydays of obligation. In this way petitions in which the faithful participate will be made for the Church, for civil authorities, for those oppressed by various needs, and for all men and the salvation of the entire world,ao 54. In Masses celebrated with the people a fitting place should be found for the vernacular, especially in the Readings and the "common prayer" and also, as local conditions allow, for those parts which pertain to the people in accordance with the norm of article 36 of this Constitution. Nevertheless, measures should be taken to see to it that the faithful are able to say or sing together in Latin those parts of the Ordinary of the Mass which pertain to them. Wherever a greater use of the vernacular seems to be de-sirable, the prescription of article 40 of this Constitution is to be observed. 55. High esteem should be given to that more complete participation in the Mass by which the faithful, after the priest's Communion, receive the Lord's Body from the same sacrifice. "See 1 Tim 2:1-2. ÷ + ÷ Liturgy VOLUME 23, 1964 Though the dogmatic principles enunciated by the Council of Trent remain intact,40 Communion under both species can be given to clerics, religious, and lay people in cases to be specified by the Apostolic See and when the bishops judge it wise. Examples of such cases are: To the ordained at the Mass of their ordination; to the professed at the Mass of their religious profession; to the newly baptized at the Mass which follows their baptism. 56. The two parts of which the Mass in a sense is com-posed, namely, the liturgy of the word and the Eucharistic liturgy, are so closely interrelated that they form but a single act of worship. Hence, this Synod strongly urges pastors of souls, when giving instructions, to be zealous in teaching the faithful to take their part in the entire Mass especially on Sundays and holydays of obligation. 57. § 1. Concelebration, by which the unity of the priest-hood is appropriately manifested, has remained in use even up to the present time in both the East and the West. Hence, the Council has decided to extend the permission to concelebrate to the following cases: 1 ° a) On the Thursday of the Lord's Supper both at the Mass of Chrism and at the evening Mass; b) at Masses during councils, bishops' conferences, and synods; c) at the Mass for the blessing of an abbot. 2° Also, with the permission of the ordinary to whom it belongs to judge of the opportuneness of concelebra-tion: a) at conventual Mass and at the principal Mass in churches when the welfare of the faithful does not require the individual celebration of all the priests present; b) at Masses during any kind of meetings of priests, whether diocesan or regular. § 2, 1 ° It belongs to the bishop to regulate in his diocese the discipline of concelebration. 2° But each priest will always retain his right to cele-brate his Mass individually, but not at the same time and in the same church [of concelebration] nor on the Thurs-day of the Lord's Supper. 58. A new rite for concelebration is to be composed and inserted in the Pontifical and the Roman Missal. CHAPTER Ill THE OTHER SACRAMENTS AND THE ++ SACRAMENTALS ÷ 59. The purpose of the sacraments is to make men holy, to build up the Body of Christ, and finally to give worship Vatican Council REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 576 '*Twenty-first Session, July 16, 1562, Doctrine on Communion under Both Species and on the Communion of Children, cc. 1-3; Conciliura Tridentinum: Diariorum, actorum, epistolarum, tracta-tuum nova collectio, ed. by the G6rres Society, t. 8 (Freiburg: Herder, 1919), pp. 698-9. to God; and because they are signs they also give instruc-tion. They not only presuppose faith, but by words and objects they also nourish, strengthen, and express it; hence, they are called sacraments of faith. They confer grace; but in addition the act of celebrating them very effectively disposes the faithful to receive that grace in a fruitful way, to worship God properly, and to practice charity. Hence, it is of the greatest importance that the faithful easily understand the sacramental signs and that they should frequent with the greatest eagerness those sacra-ments which were instituted to nourish the Christian life. 60. The Church, moreover, has instituted sacramentals. These are sacred signs having some resemblance to the sacraments by which effects, especially those of a spiritual nature, are signified and obtained through the Church's impetration. Through the sacramentals men are disposed to receive the chief effect of the sacraments, and the vari-ous occasions of life are sanctified. 61. Accordingly, in the case of the faithful who are well disposed, the liturgy of the sacraments and of the sacra-mentals brings it about that almost every event in life is made holy by the grace flowing from the paschal mystery of the passion, death, and resurrection of Christ from whom all the sacraments and the sacramentals derive their power; and there is scarcely no proper use of material things which cannot be directed to the purpose of making men holy and of praising God. 62. In the course of time, however, some things have crept into the rites of the sacraments and of the sacra-mentals by which their nature and purpose are obscured for our times. Hence, it is necessary that some things in them be accommodated to the needs of our age. Accord-ingly, the Council makes the following decrees with regard to their revision. 63. Since it can frequently be very advantageous to use the vernacular in the administration of the sacraments and of the sacramentals, a greater place should be allowed for this in accord with the following norms: a) In the administration o1: the sacraments and of the sacramentals, the vernacular can be used in accord with the norm of article 36. b) As soon as possible, the competent territorial ec-clesiastical authority mentioned in article 22, § 2 should prepare local rituals in accord with the new edition of the Roman Ritual but adapted to the needs of individual re-gions, including language needs; when these have been examined by the Apostolic See, they are to be used in the regions for which they were prepared. In composing these rituals or special collections of rites, there should not be omitted the instructions given in the Roman Ritual at Liturgy VOLUME 2~ 1964 ÷ ÷ ÷ Vatican Council II REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the beginning of each rite, whether these be pastoral and rubrical or whether they have a special social import. 64. The catechumenate for adults divided into several distinct steps is to be restored and put into use at the dis-cretion of the local ordinary; in this way, the period of the catechumenate intended as it is to secure proper instruc-tion can be sanctified by sacred rites performed at succes-sive times. 65. In mission territories, to the elements contained in the Christian tradition there may also be added the initia-tion elements in use among each people to the extent that these can be adapted to the Christian rite and are in ac-cord with articles 37-40 of this Constitution. 66. Both rites for the baptism of adults are to be re-vised, not only the simpler one but also the more solemn one because of the restoration of the catechumenate; and a special Mass "For the Conferring of Baptism" is to be inserted in the Roman Missal. 67. The rite for the baptism of infants is to be revised and adapted to the actual condition of infants; the parts of the parents and of the godparents as well as their duties are to be brought out more clearly in the rite itself. 68. In the rite of baptism there should be included adaptations to be used at the discretion of the local ordi-nary when there is a large number to be baptized. There should also be drawn up a shorter Ordo which, in the absence of a priest or a deacon, can be used by catechists, especially in mission territories, and by the faithful gen-eraIIy when there is danger of death. 69. In place of the rite which is called the "Way of Supplying What Was Omitted in the Baptism of an In-fant," a new one should be made in which it is more clearly and suitably indicated that an infant baptized with the short rite has already been admitted into the Church. Similarly, for the case of converts to Catholicism who have already been validly baptized, there should be drawn up a new rite in which it is indicated that they are being admitted to communion with the Church. 70. Outside of paschal time, baptismal water can be blessed in the very rite of baptism by an approved, shorter form. 71. The rite of confirmation is also to be revised so that the intimate relationship of this sacrament with the whole of Christian initiation may appear in a clearer light; ac-cordingly, the renewal of the baptismal promises should fittingly precede the reception of this sacrament. When convenient, confirmation can be conferred during Mass; with regard to the rite outside of Mass, there should be prepared a formula to serve as an introduction. 72. The rite and formulas of penance should be re- vised in such a way that they bring out more clearly the nature and effect of the sacrament. 73. "Extreme unction," which may also and more fit-tingly be called the "anointing of the sick," is not a sacra-ment intended only for those who are at the point of death; hence, the appropriate time for receiving it is al-ready certainly present when anyone of the faithful begins to be in danger of death from sickness or old age. 74. In addition to separate rites for the anointing of the sick and for Viaticum, there should be drawn up a con-tinuous rite in which the anointing is given after confes-sion and before the reception of Viaticum. 75. The number of anointings should be accommo-dated to the occasion; and the prayers belonging to the rite of the anointing of the sick should be revised in such a way that they correspond to the varying conditions of the sick persons who receive the sacrament. 76. Both the ceremonies and the texts of the ordination rites are to be revised. The addresses given by the bishop at the beginning of each ordination or consecration can be made in the vernacular. At the consecration of a bishop the imposition of hands may be done by all the bishops present. 77. The rite for celebrating matrimony as it presently exists in the Roman .Ritual is to be revised and enriched so that the grace of the sacrament is more clearly indicated and the duties of the couple emphasized. "If any regions use other praiseworthy customs and ceremonies in the celebration of the sacrament of matri-mony, this Synod earnestly desires that they be re-tained." 41 Moreover, the competent territorial ecclesiastical au-thority mentioned in article 22, § 2 of this Constitution is free, in accord with the norm of article 63, to compose its own rite adapted to the usages of places and peoples; but the law should remain intact that the assisting priest should ask and obtain the consent of the contracting par-ties. 78. As a rule matrimony is to be celebrated during Mass after the reading of the Gospel and the homily but before the "prayer of the faithful." The prayer for the bride, which should be suitably amended to stress the equal obligation that both spouses have of mutual fidelity, can be said in the vernacular. If, however, the sacrament of matrimony is celebrated outside of Mass, the Epistle and the Gospel of the nuptial ,x Council of Trent, Twenty-fourth Session, November 11, 1563, On Reform, c. 1; Concilium Tridentinum: Diariorum, actorum, episto-larum, tractatuum nova collectio, ed. by the Gbrres Society, t. 9 (Frei-burg: Herder, 1924), p. 969. See also Rituale Romanum, tit. VIII, c. II, n. 6. Liturgy VOLUME 2.~, 1964 579 + ÷ ÷ Vatican Council 11 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 580 Mass are to be read at the beginning of the rite; and the blessing is always to be given to the spouses. 79. The sacramentals are to be revised, regard being had for the primary norm of an intelligent, active, and easy participation of the faithful and for the needs of our time. In the revision of rituals in accord with the norm of article 63, there may also be added new sacramentals as necessity may require. Reserved blessings should be very few in number and be made only in favoi- of bishops and ordinaries. Provision should be made that some sacramentals at least in special circumstances and at the discretion of the ordinary can be administered by qualified lay persons. 80. The rite of the consecration of virgins contained in the Roman Pontifical should be subjected to revision. Moreover, a rite for religious profession and for renewal of vows should be drawn up in order to achieve greater unity, moderation, and dignity; apart from any exception granted by particular law, this rite is to be used by those who make their profession or renewal of vows during Mass. Religious profession will laudably be made during Mass. 81. Funeral rites should give a clearer expression to the paschal quality of Christian death; they should also be better adapted---even from the viewpoint of the liturgical color used--to the circumstances and traditions of indi-vidual regions. 82. The rite for the burial of infants is to be revised and given a special Mass of its own. CHAPTER IV THE DIVINE OFFICE 83. When Christ Jesus, the High Priest of the new and eternal covenant, assumed human nature, He introduced into this earthly exile that hymn which is sung in the heavenly dwelling places throughout all the ages. By joining to Himself the entire human community, He as-sociates it with Himself in the singing of this divine song of praise. He continues this priestly work through His Church which ceaselessly praises the Lord and intercedes for the salvation of the entire world not only by celebrating the Eucharist but also in other ways, especially by praying the Divine Office. 84. As is known from ancient Christian tradition, the Divine Office is so arranged that the entire course of day and night is made holy by the praise of God. When this wonderful .song of praise is fittingly performed by priests and other persons deputed for this purpose by the Church's enactment or by the faithful praying together with the priest according to the approved form, then it is truly the voice of the Bride speaking to her Spouse; what is more, it is the prayer o[ Christ with His Body to the Father. 85. Hence, all those who carry out this work are [ul-filling a duty of the Church and share in the highest honor of the Bride of Christ, because as they offer these praises to God they stand before His throne in the name of the Church. 86. Priests engaged in the pastoral ministry will offer the praises of the Hours with greater [ervor i[ they have a more vivd realization that they must heed the warning of Paul: "Pray without ceasing" (1 Th 5:17); the work in which they are engaged is such that effectiveness and pro-ductiveness can be given it only by the Lord who said: "Without me you can do nothing" (Jn 15:5). It was for this reason that the Apostles, when instituting the deacons, said: "We shall devote ourselves completely to prayer and the ministry of the word" (Acts 6:4). 87. In order that the Divine Office be better and more per[ectly per[ormed by priests and other members of the Church, this Council, continuing the renewal so happily begun by the Apostolic See, has made the following decrees with regard to the Office of the Roman rite. 88. Since the purpose of the Office is to sanctify the day, the traditional sequence of the Hours is to be restored in such a way that as far as possible an actual time of day corresponds to the Hours; at the same time account must be taken of the circumstances of modern life which espe-cially affect those engaged in apostolic work. 89. Hence in the renewal of the Office, the following norms are to be observed: a) Since, according to the venerable tradition of the entire Church, Lauds, the prayer of morning, and Vespers, the prayer of evening, constitute the two hinges o[ the daily Otfice, they are to be regarded and celebrated as the principal Hours; b) Compline is to be so composed that it fits in with the end of the day; c) Matins, although in choir it is to retain the char-acter of night praise, is to be so adapted that it can be recited at any hour of the day; and it is to consist of fewer Psalms and longer Readings; d) The Hour of Prime is to be suppressed. e) In choir the Little Hours of Terce, Sext, and None are to be retained. Outside of choir it is permitted to choose the one of the three which best corresponds to the time o[ the day. 90. Furthermore, since the Divine Office as the public prayer of the Church is a source of holiness and a nourish-ment for personal prayer, priests and all others who take part in the Divine Office are earnestly exhorted in the Lord to attune their minds to the words they utter when ÷ ÷ ÷ Liturgy VOLUME 23, 1964 581 4. 4. 4. Vatican Council I1 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~8~ performing it; to achieve this in a better way, they should secure for themselves a better background in the liturgy and the Bible, especially the Psalms. In continuing this renewal, the venerable treasures of the Roman Office are to be so adapted that those to whom it is entrusted can more easily draw greater profit from it. 91. In order that the sequence of Hours mentioned in article 89 can really be observed, the Psalms should no longer be spread throughout a single week but over a longer period of time. The work of revising the Psalter, already happily begun, should be finished as soon as possible and should take into account the style of Christian Latin, the liturgical use of the Psalms (chant included), and the entire tradition of the Latin Church. 92. The following are to be observed with regard to the Readings: a) Readings from Sacred Scripture are to be so ar-ranged that the riches of the divine word may be easily accessible in a more abundant way; b) Readings to be taken from the works of the fathers, doctors, and ecclesiastical writers should be better selected; c) Accounts of martyrdom and the lives of the saints are to be in accord with historical fact. 93. As far as it is useful, the hymns should be restored to their original form; and whatever savors of mythology or is unsuited to Christian attitudes should be removed. As occasion offers, other selections may be made from the treasury of hymns. 94. In order that the day may be truly sanctified and that the Hours themselves be recited to spiritual advan-tage, it is preferable that the Hours be recited at the time which best corresponds to each canonical Hour. 95. Communities obliged to choir, in addition to the conventual Mass, are bound to celebrate the Office each day in choir. In particular: a) Orders of canons, monks and nuns, and of other regulars bound to choir by law or by their constitutions must recite the entire Office; b) Cathedral or collegiate chapters must recite those parts to which they are bound by general or particular law; c) All members of the above communities who are either in major orders or solemnly professed (with the ex-ception of lay brothers) are bound to recite individually those canonical Hours which they do not pray in choir. 96. Clerics in major orders who are not bound to choir are obliged to recite the Office daily either in common or individually according to the norm of article 89. 97. The rubrics should specify those times when a litur-gical service may be fittingly substituted for the Divine Office. In individual cases and for a good reason, ordinaries can dispense their subjects, wholly or in part, from the obligation of reciting the Office or they can commute it. 98. Members of any institute of the state of perfection who recite any part of the Divine Office by reason of their constitutions are performing the public prayer of the Church. The public prayer of the Church is likewise performed by those who by reason of their constitutions recite any Short Office provided it is composed after the pattern of the Divine Office and has been duly approved. 99. Since the Divine Office is the voice of the Church, that is, of the whole Mystical Body, as it publicly praises God, it is recommended that clerics not bound to choir and especially priests who live together or when meeting together should pray in common at least some part of the Divine Office. All who pray the Office either in choir or in common should perform the task entrusted to them as perfectly as possible with regard both to internal devotion of soul and to their external way of acting. Moreover, it is better that the Office when done in choir or in common be sung, according to the possibility o~ the occasion. 100. Pastors of souls are to see toit that the principal Hours, especially Vespers, are celebrated in common in churches on Sundays and the more solemn feast days. It is recommended that lay persons also recite the Divine Office, either with priests or in common by themselves or individually. 101. § 1. According to the age-long tradition of the Latin rite, the Latin language is to be retained by clerics in the Divine Office. But power is given to the ordinary to allow in individual cases the use of a vernacular trans-lation (made according to the norm 6f article 36) to those clerics [or whom the use of the Latin language is a serious hindrance to a worthy praying o[ the Office. § 2. In the celebration of the Divine Office even in choir, nuns and members (whether non-clerical or women) of institutes of the states of perfection can be granted by the competent superior the use of the vernacular provided that the translation is an approved one. § 3. Provided that the translation is an approved one, any cleric bound to the Divine Office fulfills his obligation if he recites it in the vernacular with a group of the faith-ful or with those mentioned directly above in § 2. + ÷ ÷ Liturgy VOLUME 23, 1964 583 + + Vatican Council H REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS CHAPTER V THE LITURGICAL YEAR 102. The Church regards it as her duty to celebrate the saving work of her divine Spouse by devoutly recalling it on certain days throughout the year. Each week on the day she has called the Lord's Day, she keeps the memory of the Lord's Resurrection which, together with His Pas-sion, she also celebrates once a year by the great solemnity of Easter. Moreover, during the cycle of the year she unfolds the entire mystery of Christ from His incarnation and birth to His ascension and the day of Pentecost and to the awaited day of fulfilled hope and of the coming of the Lord. By thus recalling the mysteries of the redemption, she opens up to the faithful the riches of her Lord's power and merits. In some way they thus become present at all times, and the faithful, by contact with them, are filled with grace. 103. In this annual cycle of the mysteries of Christ, the Church gives special honor and love to Blessed Mary, the Mother of God, who is joined by an inseparable bond to the saving work of her Son; in her the Church admires and extols the surpassing fruit of the redemption and joyfully contemplates, as in a faultless image, what she herself de-sires and hopes wholly to be. 10a,. In the annual cycle the Church has also inserted commemorations of the martyrs and of other saints who, having been brought to perfection by the multiform grace of God, have already reached everlasting salvation in heaven where they hymn the perfect praise of God and intercede for us. In celebrating the entrance of the saints into eternal salvation, the Church proclaims the paschal mystery as it is achieved in these holy persons who have suffered and been glorified with Christ. She proposes the saints to the faithful as examples who draw all men to come to the .Father through Christ, and through their merits she pleads for God's benefits. 105. Finally, during the different times of the year ac-cording to her traditional discipline, the Church com-pletes the formation of the faithful by means of pious practices for both soul and body and by instruction, prayer, and works of penance and mercy. Wherefore, this Council has decided to make the follow-ing decrees. 106. By an apostolic tradition that took its origin from the very day of the Resurrection of Christ, the paschal mystery is celebrated by the Church on every eighth day. This day is rightly called the Lord's Day or Sunday; for on it the faithful should come together in a body to hear the word of God, to share in the Eucharist, to recall the passion, resurrection, and glory of the Lord Jesus, and to give thanks to God by whom they have been "born again into a life of real hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead" (1 Pt 1:3). Hence, Sunday is the original feast day which is to be proposed and emphasized to the faithful in such a way that it may become in reality a day of joy and of freedom from work. Other celebrations, unless they truly be of the greatest importance, are not to have precedence over Sunday, for the latter is the founda-tion and center core of the entire liturgical year. 107. The liturgical year is to be revised so that the tra-ditional customs and discipline of the sacred seasons are preserved or restored in accord with the conditions of our times. Their characteristic quality is to be retained in or-der to give the proper nourishment to the piety of the faithful as they celebrate the mysteries of the Christian redemption, especially the paschal mystery. In cases where adaptations are needed because of local conditions, these should be made according to the norm given in articles 39 and 40. 108. The minds of the faithful should be directed pri-marily to the feast days of our Lord in which the mysteries of salvation are celebrated throughout the year. Accord-ingly, the Proper of the Time is to retain its rightful prece-dence over the feasts of the saints so that the entire cycle of the mysteries of salvation may be duly recalled. 109. Both in the liturgy and in liturgical instructions, greater consideration is to be given to the twofold nature of the season of Lent which, by recalling or preparing for baptism and by penance, disposes the faithful for the cele-bration of the paschal mystery by having them devote themselves more earnestly to the hearing of the word of God to prayer. Accordingly: a) The characteristic baptismal elements of the Lenten liturgy are to be used to a greater degree; certain of these which come from an earlier tradition are to be restored as may seem good. b) The same thing is true with regard to the peni-tential elements. In instructions, besides pointing out the social consequences of sin, there is to be impressed on the minds of the faithful the proper nature of penance which detests sin as an offense against God; the place of the Church in penitential activity is not to be neglected, and prayer for sinners should be insisted on. 110. The penance of the season of Lent should not only be internal and individual but also external and social. The authorities mentioned in article 22 should encourage and recommend penitential practices in accord with what is possible in our times and in different regions and with the circumstances of the faithful. But the paschal fast is to be kept sacred and is to be ÷ ÷ ÷ Liturgy VOLUME 23, 1964 585 ÷ ÷ ÷ Vatican Council II REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 586 celebrated everywhere on Good Friday and extended, where possible, to Holy Saturday so that the joys of Easter Sunday may be attained with an uplifted and clear mind. 111. According to the tradition in the Church the saints are honored and their authentic relics and images are held in veneration. The feasts of the saints proclaim the wonderful works of Christ in His servants, and they pro-vide the faithful with fitting examples for imitation. Lest the feasts of saints take precedence over the feasts which recall the mysteries of salvation, many of them should be left to be celebrated by individual churches, nations, or religious families; and only those feasts should be extended to the entire Church which commemorate saints who can truly be said to be of universal importance. CHAPTER VI SACRED MUSIC 112. The musical tradition of the universal Church con-stitutes a precious treasure which is greater than the ex-pressions of the other arts chiefly because sacred song, since it is joined to words, forms a necessary or integral part of the solemn liturgy. Indeed, the greatness of sacred song has been praised by Sacred Scripture42 and by the holy fathers and the Roman Pontiffs who in recent times, beginning with Pius X, have clearly explained the functional role of sacred music in the service of the Lord. Accordingly, the holier will sacred music be, the more closely it is linked with lit.urgical action, whether by adding delight to prayer or by fostering unity of minds or by enriching the sacred rites with a greater solemnity. Moreover, the Church approves all forms of true art which have the required qualities and admits them into divine worship. Hence, keeping in mind the norms and precepts of ec-clesiastical tradition and discipline and considering the purpose of sacred music which is the glory of God and the sanctification of men, this Council has made the following enactments. ll3. Liturgical action receives a nobler form when the divine functions are solemnly celebrated with song and with the assistance of sacred ministers and the active par-ticipation of the faithful. With regard to the language to be used, the provisions of article 36 are to be observed; with regard to Mass, those of article 54; with regard to the sacraments, those of article 63; and with regard to the Divine Office, those of article 101. 114. Great care is to be taken to guard and increase the 4-"See Eph 5:19; Col 3:16. riches of sacred music. Choirs should be tirelessly pro-moted, especially in cathedral churches. Bishops and other pastors of souls should zealously see to it that when a sacred action is to be performed with song the entire con-gregation of the faithful is able to contribute their proper active participation in accord with the norm of articles 28 and 30. 115. Great importance is to be attached to the teaching and practice of music in seminaries, in novitiates and houses of studies of both men and women religious, as well as in other Catholic institutions and schools; to achieve this formation, the teachers in charge of teaching sacred music are to be carefully trained. It is recommended that higher institutes for sacred mu-sic be established as the opportunity offers. Composers and singers, especially boys, are also to be given a truly liturgical formation. llfi. The Church recognizes Gregorian chant as spe-cially suited to the Roman liturgy; accordingly, other things being equal, it should be given the principal place in liturgical ceremonies. However, other kinds of sacred music, especially polyph-ony, are in no way excluded from the celebration of the divine functions so long as they are in harmony with the spirit of liturgical action according to the norm given in article 30. 117. The normative edition of the books of Gregorian chant is to be completed; moreover, there should be pre-pared more critical editions of the books already published since the restoration of St. Pius X. It is also desirable that an edition be prepared consisting of simpler melodies for use in smaller churches. 118. Religious singing by the people is to be encouraged in an intelligent way so that the voices of the faithful can ring out in sacred and devotional services as well as in liturgical actions according to the norms and precepts of the rubrics. 119. Since in certain regions, especially in mission terri-tory, there are people who have their own characteristic musical tradition which is of greatlimportance in their re-ligious and social life, due esteerri is to be given to this musac and a statable place ,s to be g, ven to ~t both m shap-ing their religious outlook as welllas in adapting worship to their native genius as indicatedl!n articles 39 and 40. Hence, diligent care should be t.aken in the musical for-mation of missionaries so that, as far as possible, they will be able to foster the traditions of music of their people both in the schools and in the sacred services. 120. In the Latin church the pipe organ is to be held in high esteem as the traditional musical instrument, the music of which is able to add notable distinction to the Liturffy VOLUME ~87 Vatican Council H REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Church's ser¢ices and to be a powerful means of raising men's minds to God and higher things. But at the discretion and consent of the competent ter-ritorial authority as stipulated in articles 22, § 2; 37; and 40, others instruments may be permitted in divine worship insofar as they are or can be made suitable for sacred use, are in harmony with the dignity of churches, and really contribute to the edification of the faithful. 121. Musical composers who are imbued with the Christian spirit should regard themselves as called to cul-tivate sacred music and to increase its riches. They should, however, produce compositions which have the qualities of genuine sacred music, which can be sung not only by large choirs but also by smaller ones, and which encourage the active participation of the whole con-gregation of the faithful. The texts intended to be sung are to be conformed to Catholic doctrine and for the most part are to be drawn from Sacred Scripture and from liturgical sources. CHAPTER. VII SACRED ART AND SACRED FURNISHINGS 122. The fine arts are rightly ranked among the noblest activities of human genius; this is especially true with re-gard to religious art and its highest form which is sacred art. These arts of their nature are directed to the infinite divine beauty to he expressed in some way by human works. They are the more closely bound to God and His praise and glory to the extent that their only intent is to achieve the aim of helping men to turn thir minds de-voutly to God. Accordingly, the Church has always been a friend of the fine arts; she has consistently sought their noble service and has trained artists for the special objective that the things pertaining to divine worship, as signs and symbols of supernatural realities, might be truly worthy, becoming, and beautiful. Moreover, the Church has always regarded herself as a judge of the arts, discerning among the works of artists those which were in harmony with faith, devo-tion, and traditional religious norms and were to be con-sidered as suitable for sacred use. The Church has been particularly careful that the sacred furnishings should serve the dignity of worship in a worthy and beautiful way. She has admitted the changes in material, style, and ornamentation which were intro-duced in the course of time by the progress of technical art. Hence it has pleased the fathers to make the following decrees concerning these matters. 123. The Church has not regarded any one style of art as peculiarly its one, but has admitted the styles of all ages according to the natural talents and circumstances of peoples and the needs of various rites; and thus she has created through the course of centuries a treasury of art which must be preserved with great care. The art of our times and of all peoples is also to have free exercise in the Church on condition that it provides the sacred buildings and ceremonies with due reverence and honor. In this way it will be able to add its voice to that admirable chorus of praise sung in honor of the Catholic faith by great men of past ages. 124. Ordinaries should take care that in their fostering and encouragement of a truly sacred art, they seek for noble beauty rather than for sumptuous display. This also holds true with regard to sacred vestments and ornaments. Bishops should take care that the house of God and other holy places are kept free from the works of artists which are contrary to Christian faith, morality, and devo-tion and which offend the religious sense either because of their .depraved forms or because of the insufficiency, me-diocrity, or pretence of their art. When churches are built, diligent care should be taken that they are suitable for the celebration of the liturgical ceremonies and for the active participation of the faithful. 125. The practice should be maintained of placing sa-cred images in churches for the veneration of the faithful; nevertheless, their number should be moderate and they should be positioned in a fitting order so that they do not disturb the faithful nor foster devotion of doubtful ortho-doxy. 126. In judging works of art, local ordinaries should hear the opinion of the diocesan commission for sacred art and, if necessary, that of others who are experts as well as that of the commissions mentioned in articles 44, 45, and 46. Ordinaries should be vigilant to see that the sacred fur-nishings and valuable pieces of work are not alienated or destroyed, for they are the ornaments of the house ol~ God. 127. Bishops, either personally or through suitable priests gifted with a knowledge and love of art, should see to it that artists are imbued with the spirit of sacred art and of the sacred liturgy. It is also recommended that schools or academies of sacred art for the training of artists be established in those regions where it seems practical. All artists who, prompted by their talents, wish to serve the glory of God in the Church should always remember that they are engaged in a kind of sacred imitation of God the Creator for the edification of the faithful, for their piety, and for their religious formation. 128. Along with the revision of the liturgical books ÷ ÷ ÷ Liturgy VOLUME 23, 1964 589 Vatican Council H REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~90 mentioned in article 25, there should also be, as soon as possible, a revision of the canons and ecclesiastical statutes concerned with the external things pertaining to sacred worship, especially those which treat of the fitting and well-pl.anned construction of churches; the form and con-struction of altars; the dignity, placement, and safety of the Eucharistic tabernacle; and the suitability of sacred images, embellishments, and decorations. Whatever fits in less well with the liturgical renewal should be amended or abolished; whatever favors it should be retained or intro-duced. In this matter, especially with regard to the material and form of sacred furnishings and vestments, power is given to territorial conferences of bishops in accord with the norm of article 22 of this Constitution to adapt matters to local necessities and customs. 129. During their philosophical and theological studies clerics are to be given training in the history and evolu-tion of sacred art as well as in the sound principles on which works of sacred art should be based; in this way they will be able to appreciate and preserve the Church's venerable monuments and to give advice to artists who are producing works of art. 130. It is fitting that the use of pontificals be reserved to those ecclesiastics who have episcopal rank or have some special jurisdiction. APPENDIX DECLARATION OF THE SECOND VATICAN COUNCIL ON CALENDAR REFORM This, the Second Vatican Council, recognizing the im-portance of the desire that many have to assign the feast of Easter to a fixed Sunday and to have an unchanging calendar, has carefully considered the results which could follow from the introduction of a new calendar and now makes the following declaration: 1. This Council is not opposed to assigning the feast of Easter to a fixed Sunday of the Gregorian calendar pro-vided those whom it concerns give their assent, especially the brethren who are not in communion with the Apos-tolic See. 2. This Council likewise declares that it does not oppose the projects directed toward introducing a perpetual cal-endar into civil society. However, of the various systems which are being elabo-rated for the establishment of a perpetual calendar and its introduction into civil society, only those are unop-posed by the Church which retain and safeguard a seven-day week with Sunday and without the introduction of any days outside the week so that the succession of weeks is kept intact, unless in the judgment of the Apostolic See there are extremely weighty reasons to the contrary. Each and every one ol the matters contained in this Con-stitution was decided by the lathers of this Council. And We, by the apostolic power given to Us by Christ, together with the venerable fathers, approve in the Holy Spirit, decree, enact, and order to be promulgated what has been decided in this Synod for the glory of God. Given at St. Peter's on December 4, 1963. 4- 4- 4- Liturgy VOLUME 23~ 1964 591 PAUL VI .Concerning the Constitu-, tion on the Liturgy ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul VI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 592 APOSTOLIC LETTER GIVEN ON OUR OWN INITIATIVE DECREEING THAT CERTAIN PRESCRIPTIONS OF THE CONSTI-TUTION ON THE SACRED LITURGY APPROVED BY THE SECOND VATICAN COUNCIL SHOULD BEGIN TO TAKE EFFECT. The* sacred liturgy and its diligent preservation, pro-motion, and, when necessary, renewal have always been a matter of great concern to the supreme pontiffs who have been Our predecessors, to Ourselves, and to the pastors of the Church. This is shown both by the great number of well-known documents that have already been published and by the Constitution on the matter which was unani-mously approved by the Second Vatican Council in a sol-emn session held on December 4 of the previous year and which We have ordered to be promulgated. This concern for the liturgy flows from this considera-tion: "In the liturgy of this earth we share in a foretaste of' that heavenly liturgy which is celebrated in the holy city of Jerusalem towards which we pilgrims are journeying and where Christ sits at the right hand of God as the minister of the holy things and of the true tabernacle; to-gether with all the troops of the heavenly army we sing a hymn of glory to the Lord; when we honor the memory of the saints, we hope for a share in fellowship with them; we wait for the Savior, our Lord Jesus Christ, until He our life will appear and we in turn will appear with Him in glory." 1 And so it happens that as the souls of the faithful give this worship to God, the principle and source of all holi-ness, they are drawn and as it were impelled to acquire ¯ The original Latin text, entitled Sacrara liturgiara, is given in dcta dpostolicae Sedis, v. 56 (1964), pp. 139--44. ¯ Constitution on the Liturgy, article 8. this holiness, thereby becoming during tiffs earthly pil-grimage "emulators of the heavenly Sion." -~ Hence, it is easy to see that in this matter there is noth-ing We desire more than that the faithful and especially priests should first make a profound study of the Consti-tution We have already mentioned and then form a firm resolution to carry out its prescriptions in a fully con-scientious way as soon as they go into effect. Since~ there-fore, from the nature of things the knowledge and divulga-tion of liturgical laws is a matter which should begin at once, We strongly exhort the heads of dioceses together with their sacred ministers, those dispensers of the mys-teries of God,z not to delay in seeing to it that the faithful entrusted to them, each according to his age, state of life, talent, and education, should come to realize the inner strength and power of the sacred liturgy and should de-voutly take part, both internally and externally, in the Church's rites.4 As is evident, there are many prescriptions of the Con-stitution that cannot be put into effect in a short time since before that can be done ceremonies must be revised and new liturgical books prepared. In order that this work may be done with the required intelligence and care, We are establishing a commission whose principal work will be to see to it that the prescriptions of the Co~stitution on the Liturgy are perfectly carried out. Nevertheless, among the norms of the Constitution there are some which can be made effective even now; it is Our wish, therefore, that they be put into execution without delay so that the souls of the faithful may not be further deprived ol~ the fruits of grace to be expected there-from. Therefore, by Our apostolic authority and on Our own initiative, We order and decree that from the coming First Sunday of Lent, that is, from February 16, of this year of 1964, the following matters are effective, the usual suspension period being waived. I) With regard to the prescriptions of articles 15, 16, and 17 concerning liturgical formation in seminaries, in schools of religious communities, and in theological facul-ties, We desire that programs of studies for these institu-tions be drawn up at once so that beginning with the com-ing academic year these prescriptions will be carried out in an orderly and careful way. II) We also decree thatin accord with the prescriptions of articles 45 and 46, there should be set up in each dio-cese a commission which under the supervision of the Hymn for Lauds on the feast of the dedication of a church. aSee 1 Cor 4:1. See the Constitution on the Liturgy, article 19, + + ÷ The Liturgy VOLUME 23, 1964 593 ÷ ÷ ÷ Pbul VI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 594 bishop will have the task of increasing knowledge of the liturgy and of protnoting it. With regard to this point, it will sometimes be desirable that several dioceses have a common commission. Furthermore, insofar as it is possible, every diocese should have two other commissions, one for sacred music, the other for sacred art. It will frequently be desirable in individual dioceses to unite these three commissions into a single one. III) We also put into effect from the date given above the obligation according to article 52 of having a homily at Mass on Sundays and holydays of obligation. IV) We prescribe that there should be put into immedi-ate effect that part of article 71 according to which the sacrament of confirmation, if desired, can be conferred within Mass after the reading of the Gospel and after the homily. V) With regard to article 78, the sacrament of matri-mony is ordinarily to be celebrated within Mass after the reading of the Gospel and the giving of the homily. If matrimony is celebrated outside of Mass, the follow-ing points are to be observed until a completely new cere-mony has been drawn up: at the beginning of this sacred rite, after a brief exhortation,'~ the Epistle and the Gospel of the nuptial Mass are to be read; then there should be given to the couple the blessing which is found in the Roman Ritual under Title 8, Chapter 3. VI) Although the Divine Office has not yet been re-vised and renewed in accordance with article 89, still to those who are not bound to choir We give permission, ef-fective without the usual waiting period, to omit the Hour of Prime and to choose from the Small Hours the one that best fits the time of day. While granting this, We are fully confident that the ministers of sacred things will not in any way relax their inner devotion; hence, if they diligently carry out the duties of their priestly office out of love for God alone, they can rightly be considered as spending the entire day with their minds joined to Him. VII) Also with regard to the Divine Office, in indi-vidual cases and for an adequate reason, ordinaries can dispense their subjects, wholly or in part, from the ob-ligation of reciting the Office or they can commute the obligation to another.6 VIII)-Once more with regard to the praying of the Di. vine Office, We declare that the members of any institute of religious perfection who .by reason ol~ their laws recite, any part of the Divine Office or a Short Office that is See the Constitution on the Liturgy, article 35, § 3. See the Constitution on the Liturgy, article 97. modeled on the Divine Office and has been duly approved are to be considered as publicly praying with the Church.~ IX) Since according to article 101 of the Constitution those who are bound to recite the Divine Office may be allowed in various ways permission to use the vernacular instead of Latin, We think it good to specify that the various vernacular translations are to be prepared and approved by the competent territorial ecclesiastical au-thority in accord with the norm of article 36, §§ 3 and 4; what is done by this authority must be duly appi'oved or confirmed by the Apostolic See in accord with the same article 36, § 3. And We prescribe that this is always to be observed whenever a liturgical Latin text is translated into the vernacular by the legitimate authority We have already mentioned. X) Since according to the Constitution (article 22, § 2) the supervision of liturgical matters, within established limits, comes under the competency of various kinds of legitimately constituted territorial groupings of bishops, We decree that for the time being these are to be national groupings. In addition to residential bishops, all who are men-tioned in canon 292 of the Code of Canon Law have the right to be present and to vote at these national confer-ences; coadjutors and auxiliary bishops may also be called to them. In these conferences, legitimate passing of decrees re-quires a two-thirds majority of a secret vote. XI) Leaving now the matters pertaining to the liturgy which We have changed in this apostolic letter or have ordered to be done before the usual waiting period, We wish to note in conclusion that the direction of the sacred liturgy is within the competency of the Church alone; that is, within the competency of this Apostolic See, and, in accord with the norm of the law, of the bishops. Hence, no one else, not even a priest, is permitted to add, remove, or change anything with regard to liturgical matters,s We order that everything We have decreed in this motu proprio letter be held as valid and legal, all contrary things notwithstanding. Given in Rome at St. Peter's on January 25, 1964, the feast of the Conversion of St. Paul, in the first year of Our Pontificate. PAUL VI See the Constitution on the Liturgy, article 98. See the Constitution on the Liturgy, article 22, § 1, and article 2~,§ ~. The Liturgy VOLUME 23, 1964 595 PAUL J. BERNADICOU, s.j. Persons and the Religious Life Paul J. Bernadi-cou, S.J., is a mem-ber of Regis Col-lege; 3425 Bayview Avenue; Willow-dale, Ontario; Can-ada. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS If we come to understand the role 6f persons in Chris-tianity, we will be in a position to assess their role in the spirituality which underlies and motivates the religious life. For religious life is basically an intensified living of Christian spirituality. As such, it takes its shape and model--no matter what the varying emphases of the dif-ferent institutes--from the life and teaching of Christ our Lord. From authentic spirituality based on the teaching of Christ, therefore, we derive the charter for the proper place of persons in the life of a religious. The necessity to clarify so central a theme in the Christian life as the role of persons manifests the easy confusion to which man~ falls prey. Even in religious life, a life of the counsels dedi-cated to the closest possible following of Christ's own program ahd pattern of life, we can easily mistake the means for the end; we can forget to love persons in our endeavor to purify our love. Religious can become the victims of their formation and purification and as a result find themselves caught in a multiplicity of detailed rules and in an exactness of observance that deprive them of a clear view of the desired end of their way of life: to love people deeply, truly, and universally. We can too easily substitute our initial concern to apply the means and never arrive at the end. In a life as authority-centered and regulated as is that of a religious, scrupulous care for the disciplinary rules of the institute and a desire to please the ever-present superior may absorb the forefront of attention; we forget to relate and justify these means in the larger context of Christian spirituality: the love of persons. Or perhaps the needed purification by means of the self-imposed suffering of mortification and abnegation--now discovered for the first time--too fully occupies the mind! of a young religious: the stress on what he can and must do here and now to correct and improve his conduct as a professional Christian (that is, a religious). This together with a certain diffidence on the topic of love can become too permanent a state of mind. So a time of reevaluation must occur. The indoctrination in and emphasis on penance and prayer during the formative years are meant to lead one to a fuller and truer Christian love; they interiorize and actualize the life and vision of hith by helping one transcend his thoughtless and selfish fixation. But they are not ends in themselves: we must love persons--actually and genuinely--or cease to be our .vital, integral, devel-oping selves. And so the central role of persons and the topic of love, which in the early stages of one's formation are frequently considered too fraught with the possibility of self-deception and of a casual approach to celibacy, must be reinvestigated, then reintegrated into the domi-nant focus of spirituality. The New Testament, the authoritative document for Christian spirituality, attests the indispensable role of persons in the Christian life. From beginning to end, the New Testament unites the two commandments of the Old Law (love of God and love of neighbor) into the single commandment of the New Law: love for the hu-man person. This in fact is the form of the new command-ment given us by Christ. Thus St. Paul makes love of one's fellowman--bearing "the burdens of one another's fail-ing"-- the fulfillment of the law of Christ (Gal 6:9). And for St. John charity--love one for another--is the unique command given us by the Lord (2 Jn 5). In the Christian scheme of life, "If a man boasts of loving God, while he hates his own brother, he is a liar. He has seen his brother, and has no love for him; what love can he have for the God he has never seen?" (1 Jn 4:20). In the New Law, hu-man persons and interpersonal concern take on an in-estimably richer, supernatural significance for man. When Christ united the two commandments of the Old Law and placed their full realization in our super-natural love for human persons, He did not remove "one jot or flourish" from that law (Mt. 5:18). His new com-mandment is not a deletion or betrayal, it is a fulfillment (Mr 5:7 ft.). For He came as the truth teaching us more surely the way to the more abundant life (Jn 14:6; 10:10). In this respect, He has inaugurated a new age and a new covenant merited for us by His sacrifice on our behalf (2 Cor 5:15 ft.). His sacrificial death has founded the new community foretold by the prophets (Rom 1:2 ft.). This new community born in the Spirit raises the human per-son and human dialogue to a participation in God's own life and supernatural creativity (see 1 Cor 2 and 12). The new, undeserved, incomparably richer dignity ~rso~s VOLUME 2)~ 1964 ÷ ÷ ÷ P. ]. Bemadicou, S. 1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS which Christ has won for the human person was the wofl~ of His love-motivated incarnation (Phil 2:5 ft.). In this mystery of love which we will never fully fathom or sui[i-ciently appreciate, Christ joined both God and man and thus made feasible the fusion in His person of ~the two commandments of the Old Law. For He has told us that if we know Him, we also know and love the Father (Jn 14:7 ft.). And Christ we tome to know and love in our brother. In an unsearchable depth of wisdom and love that is His as the Son of God, Christ has chosen to identify Himself with the human person of our fellowman, par-ticularly if he be in need: "Believe me, when you did it to one of the least of my brethren here, you did it to me" (Mr 25:40). Precisely in this mysterious union of man and God we discover the awesome dignity of the human person: each person mediates Christ to us. This is a focal revelation in the new age founded by Christ. It is, therefore, by loving our fellowman--so Christ has willed-that we respond to the love of the God who has first loved us (1 Jn 3:16; 4:19). Appropriately, we return God's love by loving our neighbor in need. In our empti-ness, in our very non-existence, it was through our fellow, man that God first called us into existence and expressed His intent to love us forever. Through our family and larger social ties, God brought us into life, cared for us, raised us to the stature of men, and even presently in., structs and exercises us in His mysteries of love whicix are the earthly foreshadow of our heavenly glory. In par-ent, teacher, priest, friend, associates, and superior, God. daily expresses His love and leads us to Himself and the happiness of total friendship. By our most intimate hu-man contacts and friendships, God would entice us to the depth and durability of His friendship. We Christians and especially we religious are a chosen people--not of course by our own merit since He chose~ us before ever we chose Him (Jn 15:16). We have received the very best our fellowman could give us--the good news of Jesus Christ in its entirety. However inadequately we may have been taught or loved, we are the undeserving recipients of an insight into the ways of God and into the glorious destiny of the human person. And we have re-ceived these greatest of earthly gifts through the instru-mentality of our fellowman. Fittingly do we make our return of love for this great largess by our recognition of God's presence in the human family which has conveyed it to us. Beyond our most wishful dream or expectation, the human person is the giver of life to us. And so the unique dignity and inmost reality of each person is that he is Christ for us. Our habitual capacity to live this insight--though we cannot hope to fully com-prehend its rich import--is the measure of the Christian conviction within us. It is, in fact, according to this stand-ard that Christ our exemplar will judge us: When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit down upon the throne of his glory., and he will divide men one from the other . Then the king will say to those on his right hand, 'Come, you that have received a blessing from my Father, take possession of the kingdom which has been prepared for you since the foundation of the world. For I was hungry, and you gave me food, thirsty, and you gave me drink; I was a stranger, and you brought me home, naked, and you clothed me, sick, and you cared for me, a prisoner, and you came to me' (Mt 25:31-6). If we take Christ as seriously and committedly as He means to be taken, we will endeavor to increase our re-spect and reverence for each person since each has the potential to be an unique epiphany of Christ among us. Our hope and effort as representatives of Christ's causeb no matter what the form of our apostolate, whether con-templative or active--will be directed towards encour-aging each person we meet to achieve his full stature and self as a person: to mirror forth his never-to-be-repeated image and trait of Christ. We love each person not merely from a motive of loving Christ or His law, as if the true worth of a human person were found in a consideration extrinsic to his real sell:. No. In each person we love or would love the quality, the mark of his deepest, most genuine self: his capacity to show forth Christ in a way that no other can. In the Christian view of man, this is the authentic self of the hu-man person; for we live in the new age of the Spirit merited for us by Christ in which man has the inestimable call to be a member of His Mystical Body. The effect of our love enters more deeply into another than mutual encouragement and kindness. It is stronger and more curative than any balm we might pour into the wounds of our stricken neighbor, for we do not cause goodness to grow in each other simply by reason of a kindness adminstered and appreciated. Our love is much, much more profound: similar to and more intensive than parenthood in the natural order, our love actually fath-ers forth the Christness in another. Our Lord has told us: "I have a new commandment to give you, that you are to love one another; that your love for one another is to be like the love I have borne you" (Jn 13:34; also Jn 15:12; 17:11; 1 Jn 3:11). He means these words more surely and effectively than we generally allow ourselves to realize. Christ has actually chosen to express His love through that of His disciples: "Believe me when I tell you this; the man who welcomes one whom I send, welcomes me; and the man who welcomes me, welcomes him who sent me" (Jn 13:20; see also Mt 10:40). Our love thus reaches ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 23, 1964 ,599 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6O0 down into the inmost recesses of each other and-in a way we cannot fully understand---actually causes the very Godlife within another. We are father to the Christ in each other. Our supreme human privilege and responsi-bility as members of Christ's body, the Church, is to bring each other to life in the Spirit. God's people, the com-munity of the faithful, live in and communicate the Spirit to each other. Perhaps we best grasp the nature and function of our supernatural community in the Spirit if we compare it to the natural level of our incorporation into society. At this natural level, it is our association in the society of man that permits us to become real, vibrant, and human. It is only by reason of multiple and diverse interpersonal relations that we come into the world at all, are nourished, trained, and educated in the ways and values of human culture and civilization. We are very much the product of our mutual dependence in the natural sphere; this interdependence is the necessary avenue to our becoming a man and sharing in the goods of man. With the new life in the Spirit which follows upon our baptism into the Church of Christ, the function of inter-personal dependence takes on a new depth and fullness. We are custodians of the Spirit and bear it each to each. Because we live in the new age won by Christ, our human exchange of love prepares and disposes us and actually effects our entry into the life of total happiness in the fullest friendship we are capable of--the love of God Himself. The purpose of human love and friendship in this new community of the Spirit--most especially one would think of a religious community--is to witness and glimpse that complete love which is to come when the Spirit lives fully among us. Our love one for another awakens us to the love of God Himself. Assuredly, the supernatural efficacy of our love is pos-sible only because God works through those who live in His Spirit. If our love is like that of the heavenly Father (Lk fi:3fi), it is because we have learned how to love from God Himself (1 Th 4:9). And we have come to recognize the love of God for us only because the Spirit, sent us by Christ, opened our hearts to God's love (Rom 5:5; 15:30). He loves us because He has taken us as His sons: "Beloved, let us love one another; love springs from God; no one can love without being born of God and knowing God" (I Jn 4:7). And we return our filial love for the Father who has first loved us in our concern for our brother with whom Christ has identified Himself (Mt 25:40); for all of us together form the Body of Christ (Rom 12:5-10; 1 Cot 12:12-27): "And you are Christ's body, organs of it depending upon each other." Since the love of the Father is in us as a result of our new life in the Spirit, we are expected to imitate the works of His love. We may be indifferent to no man; as far as with God's grace we are able, we are to be perfect as the heavenly Father is perfect (Mr 5:48). With Christian con-viction we acknowledge and revere the potential Christ in each---especially in the needy and distressed who by Christ's own choice are more closely configured to Him. Christ's command of love goes even further: "But I tell you, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, pray for those who persecute and insult you, that so you may be true sons of your Father in heaven, who makes his sun shine on the evil and equally on the good, his rain fall on the just and equally on the unjust" (Mt 5:43-48). Christ expects our love to go beyond that of good pagans who love those who love them. Because we have faith in Christ's mysterious words, we transcend our superficial impression of another even though we die to self. In fact, our radical capacity to transcend selfish interest and mere natural insight and inclination is the index of the depth of our faith in Christ and His good news. The measure of our love for the human person in need--even though he be our enemy--is the sure yardstick of our love for Christ; it bears absolute testimony to our sincere persuasion of His truth. The central role of human persons, the indispensable role for human love in the life of a Christian must give us pause. Is our religious dedication leading us where we will most surely find Christ? Do we honestly look for Him in an outgoing love and concern for our fellowman in need: in our readiness to help and cheer the less gifted or suffering members of our religious family; in our thirst for racial justice; in our efforts to help those who can most use our apostolic presence; in our prayers and penance for the world's poor and oppressed; in our par-ental concern for the young entrusted to our care; and in all the other multiple contacts with human need and misery that call forth our Christian love for the dignity of the human person. Is ours an authentic witness to Christ in a clear love of and dedication to the world of persons and community? A Christian love for people is the only adequate motive for our use of the means religious life provides. In this perspective, penance and prayer are desirable curbs on selfishness and a needed pruning for a more abundant harvest of love. Each institute and every individual in an institute decides under the guidance of the Spirit and proper authority on the measure of prayer and penance, of action and contemplation appropriate to their form of apostolate. But a clear perception of the goal--a deeper and truer love--acts as a constant corrective to an im-mature or excessive reliance on means. Separation, silence, + + + VOLUME 2.~, 1964 60! + ÷ ÷ P. ]. Bernadicou, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS recollection, and self-denial would be perverted from their function if we were to think we might by reason of. them love God directly in a total isolation from His iden-tity with human persons--as if He were an abstract prin-ciple or remote authority whose only wish is that we serve Him in an exact observance of impersonal rules and o1~ our own scrupulosity. If we esteem the unique value of hu-man persons in our spirituality, we assure a touchstone of orthodoxy and authenticity--more than this, of a healthy balance, sanity, and integration of personality. Suffering surely has a place in the Christian economy. Whether accepted in its received forms or self-imposed: it has value as a means to the end of loving Christ in all, especially the needy. To take up our cross daily and fol-low Christ means sloughing--and it is painful--our worldly views and values in order to love human persons as Christ loves them. This is undeniably difficult; it is a light cross only for those who have made it habitual and who consequently raise it with conviction; then it cer-tainly brings the peace of Christ and the only genuine suc-cess of the human person. Never should suffering take the form of a stop in love-- this is the only pointless suffering and it is the suffering of hell. However unintelligible in its experienced presence, suffering is an aid to greater love, to a love that is deeper, truer, and more universal. It is meaningful because it can force us out of ourselves to a compassion and communion with human persons and on to a total absorption in the person of God, our final and fully satisfying love. The most cloistered religious knows he can find God only by loving mankind. The sequestered life of the contemplative is not a frustrated attempt to escape humanity, much less a guilt-driven attack on self; it is, rather, an intense apostolic life of prayer and penance out of love for one's fellowman. The Church has therefore named St. Teresa of Lisieux as the foremost patroness of the missions be-cause hers was a genuine Christian spirituality of dedi-cated concern for the human person in need. An appreciation of the role of persons and human love is also the essential basis for any adequate theory of a Christian humanism. Our apostolic involvement in the world of the temporal community takes its ground in the realization that Christ has strengthened and elevated man's community to a participation in the very family of God. The Christian apostle cannot overlook the social, cultural, and political substratum which makes it possible for him to forge the interpersonal dialogue by means of which the members of Christ's people communicate the Spirit to each other. Christianity does not set a damp on our natural desire for love and happiness; it is our completion and sublime exaltation into the higher world of community in the Spirit. By our honest and earnest attempt to live and love in the Spirit, we come to share in the hundred-fold and the foretaste of heaven. In this earthly consolation alone--freely given and undeserved--is the hard-won reward of the mature religious and the greatest triumph of the human person. In an active love for the human per-son we already share on earth in the eternity of love and friendship. 4. 4. Persons VOLUME 23, 1964 SISTER M. JUDITH, O.S.B. Work: A Becoming Process Sister Mary Ju-dith, O.S.B., writes from St. Joseph's Convent; 2200 South Lewis; Tulsa, Okla-homa 74114. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 604 Man must become. How many complications, mistakes, frettings could be avoided if man could simply be; it is this business of becoming that touches the mainspring o[ man's set of human problems. Despite some medieval superstition that sisters, by vir-tue of some grace of state, simply and miraculously are, the fact remains that they must suffer their share of becoming. What should they strive to become? Each, according to her unique potential, should become a person, whole and holy. There exists no scarcity of directives for her becom-ing process: writers, preachers, lecturers bombard her with a dizzying abundance o[ books, articles, sermons, and speeches about humility, obedience, maturity, and allied virtues. Development of these traits, however, is not ac-complished in some chaste vacuum or by some mysterious process of intellection; it rather takes place as the sister peels away the days of her life. Unromantic as the fact may seem, over one half of the waking hours of these days is spent in work. Therefore, it is in her work that the virtues take root and grow; it is largely in work that she will become. Other situations of her life--like making vows, forming a meaningful rela-tionship, experiencing the death of a loved one--may pro-duce more highly colored experiences; but the continuity and stability which must underlie the development of ma-turity are found chiefly in her workaday world. And so that part of her life should not be divorced from her "re-ligious" life. Nor is it enough to dismiss it with the pietism: "Make your work a prayer." That part of a sister's life which drains her talents, her physical and psychic energies, which fills most of her waking hours, lays claim to a pene-trating investigation; for "work environment will color a man's thoughts, determine his habits, crystallize his atti-tudes, facilitate or inhibit physical and mental health, and increase or decrease the effectiveness of his general social adjustment." 1 If worka is to be a significant means of becoming, two aspects must be recognized: the bbjective reality and the subjective reality. And two definitive actions must be taken: the initial choice and its accomplishment. The objective reality is that vast block of work to be done, the unceasing needs of society and of the Church: the needs, in other words, of the here-and-now Body of Christ which is ignorant, hurt, sad, lo~t; disfigured. Facing this overwhelming objective reality, the Christian sister (the adjective is employed advisedly) approaches with the subjective reality of her pittance of energy and talent, her temperament, background, and natural interests. With this unique outfit of characteristics, she will advance to teach, cure, comfort, lead, and make beautiful. In this approach is made the first definitive action: choice. Two persons are involved in such choice: the in-dividual person and the moral person or community. First, the individual person. Too often, a sister is re-luctant to make a choice; part of the so-called security of religious life resides in a form of irresponsibility that pa-rades as docility or obedience. Sometimes, too, a sister in misinformed piety subscribes to a yesteryear's theory that misery is the gauge of merit, that the more miserable one is in her work of obedience the more meritorious that work is. In neither case is the sister involved in the action of choosing, which action admittedly includes risk but which is imperative in becoming. The sister who realizes that grace builds on nature chooses. She knows that "each soul is intended to animate a particular body . [that] each soul has or is a substantial relation to a particular body." ~ This sister realizes, then, that she must exercise that faculty of soul called will or choice so that her soul can animate her body. A soul cannot enliven a non-think-ing, non-willing set of fleshed bones. She must determine where God expects her to use His gifts to her, not wait un-til a superior dictates a position for which the sister might or might not have suitable abilities. The sister who wills faces an almost unequaled demand for exercising honesty. Honesty, or humility, hard come by for most persons, is particularly difficult for women, sisters not excepted. Yet is it other than to humbly desire "to serve Him by means of the gifts He has entrusted to 1S. N. Stevens, American Management Association, Prod. Series, No. 119. u Although the principles expressed in this paper may be applica-ble to manual, social, and intellectual work, this study is geared to a consideration of professional or semi-professional work. a Jacques Maritain, The Person and the Common Good (New York: Scribners, 1947), p. 22. ÷ ÷ ÷ Work VOLUME 23, 1964 605 Sister M. Judith, O.S.B. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 60g [her]?" Arid can one serve without a previous admission of those gifts? The tested proof of honesty comes in such evaluation and admission. Ability and interest tests, though possibly an aid in determining one's area of con-tribution, remain impersonal and surface. One may, for example, possess a genius for organization but lack the "toughness" to withstand the censure inevitably laid against one in authority. Tests cannot illustrate this. Or she may love children singly but be unequipped physically to handle them en masse in a six-hour day classroom situ-ation. One thing balances against another. And, too, al-lowance must be made for acquiring traits. For example~ other things being equal, a sister may be able to learn fac. tual content, to perfect a method, to acquire patience. Tests cannot indicate such potential. In the final analysis, then, in the honest act of choosing, the sister must go into her own heart, close the door, and! confer with her Self. No breast-beating or confessing of faults can call forth honesty equal to that demanded in, the inventory experience of admitting and declaring the gifts of God which one bears in one's Self. How painful it can be, say, for a sister to announce that, yes, she does think she is equipped to be a superiorl Or that, no, she really is not suited to administrate the hospital, thank yOU. Willing such as this rescues the sister from anonymity, that menace which currently terrifies the world and which, if anything, is a more urgent threat to sisters whose very routine and habit can become allies to anonymity. While her choice, therefore, establishes her independence as a person with a unique contribution, it at the same time diminishes her "separateness" insofar as it enables her to share the cream of her talents in the total work of the community.4 To feel and to have others feel that one is important and that the traits one possesses are valuable is a basic human need. If such recognition in any group is important, how much more so is acceptance in a religious community. The primary significance of a religious com-munity is that it is an eschatological sign of heaven insofar as it is a group of persons living together in love. Not toleration but acceptance and approval precede love. "No more fiendish punishment could be devised," claimed Wil-liam James, "than that one should be turned loose in so-ciety and remain absolutely unnoticed by all the members thereof." ~ In fact, the reasons that a person, as person, ¯ ~ W. W. Marston in Emotions o! Normal People says that one of the nearest things to a person (in the case of consciousness) is his "poor outfit of powers and virtues. In naked isolation, they seem small and cheap. To be idle is to shut these poor powers in; to work is to open them up, to unite them with greater powers' and a cause." * William James, Principles o] Psychology, Vol. 1 (New York: Holt, 18g0), p. 2g~t. seeks to live in community are first that she feels the "inner urge to the communications of knowledge and love which require relationship with other persons," and that, sec-ondly, she needs the help which "she ought to be given to do the work of reason and virtue, which responds to the specific feature of [her] being." 6 Therefore, the exercise in becorning that stems from evaluating one's potential and choosing to some degree its actuation does not result merely in a better-mileage-per- hour program; it also results in a more-love-per-person community. This brings a consideration of the role of the second person, the community. It will produce nothing but frus-tration for an individual sister to decide how she can best serve Christ's Body unless the community provides free-dom for and approval of such action. There must be a free exchange between a community and its individual members. On the one hand, the sister is bound to the com-munity because, in a certain fashion, that whole provides the framework in which she is enabled to become a person. In fact, Maritain maintains that "the person is duty-bound, in justice, to risk its own existence for the salvation of the whole when the whole is imperilled.''7 The sister should not, then, act as a spoiled child, demanding that her ambitions be satisfied at any cost. Between the individ-ual and the community there must be a mutuality of ex-change and benefit. Even in the mathematical order, six is not the same as three and three. One is always part of two; wholes are made up of wholes. So the whole com-munity is made up of whole individuals. "It presupposes the persons and flows back upon them, and, in this sense, is achieved in them." Without this flow, there is no community. If a commu-nity refuses to redistribute human goods (one of which is wholeness) and just "takes in," it will achieve, insists Maritain, no emancipation except that of the "collective man." And that is communism. There must be commu-nity, not communism. There must be individual persons, not a "collective sister." Granted this, what, exactly, is expected of the commu-nity? Basically, to recognize the rights of the individual sister to know and to become herself, and to loosen, if necessary, the structure to permit the sister to make her choice and live it out. Even in communities strictly geared to one specific work like, say, teaching, there is room for the functioning of various sets of talents. Even in that narrow area there may be classroom teaching, supervising, administrating, researching, professional writing, special-ized teaching. e Maritain, The Person, p. 37-8. 7 Maritain, The Person, p, 59. 4- 4- 4" Work VOLUME 221, 1964 607 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister M. ~ludith, O.S.B. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Important as choice making is, however, the test of be. coming inheres in the continuity of the work. If the sister accepts the risky right of choosing, she must also take on the burden of making sure that the accomplishment of the work is also an accomplishment of her Self as a person, as a religious woman. As a person, she must be able to exercise her unique gifts, talents, energies and to make a contribution in gen-eral to society and in particular to her relatively small world of work and love, her community. As a woman, she must be able to bring up to conscious-ness her masculine qualities and to bring to full play her own set of feminine qualities. For if any human being is to reach full maturity, there must be a synthesis of both masculine (animus) and feminine (anima) traits. Who is unacquainted with the woman who is too "fe-male"? Feelings govern her decisions, spontaneous reac-tion supersedes human response, tears come easily as do fits of temper and flights of fancy. And who has not found sisters in this category? On the other hand, as communities of religious women are presently organized, a woman must take on some duties ordinarily staffed by a man. This may wrench the sister's masculine traits into an undisciplined development. Who has not witnessed the woman in whom dependability has turned to scrupulosity, courage to self-martyrdom, impartiality to unfeelingness, justice to cru-elty? Even without statistical support, it would be safe to calculate that the incidence of such virtue-run-amuck is high among sisters. G. G. Jung claims "that no one can evade the fact, that in taking up a masculine calling, studying, and working in a man's way, woman is doing something not wholly in agreement with, if not directly injurious to, her feminine nature." Threats to a woman's anima balance vary, of course, not only according to the work but also according to the per-son involved. In, say, certain administrative jobs, there exists, objectively speaking, a definite threat to the best. part of womanliness. Perhaps a conscious or unconscious realization of this fact is responsible for the growing trend in religious communities of working with men. Men school principals, lay advisory boards, male hospital administra-tors promise to become the rule rather than the exception. Some sisters, however, can function even in these positions without hurt to their feminine natures. No outside force, system, or test can predict the effect of certain jobs on cer-tain personalities; the individual sister must face these threats to mature personality-synthesis. She alone will know if a work is thus suited to her, if it allows for her Self's becoming a person who is a religious woman. On the other hand, most of the work sisters are in-volved in provides ideal situations for combining anima and animus traits. Teaching, nursing, doing social work summon her feminine traits of subjectivity, sympathy, tenderness, and understanding. These same works also require, in "varying degrees, exercise of her masculine traits of objectivity, courage, cooperation, dependability, justice. Therefore, most sisters should be able to discover a work suited to development of self. Only if she is able to accomplish becoming in her work will she be able to withstand the onslaught she opens up upon herself by her initial choice. She approaches her work with a fund of sympathy. She tri~s to relate herself to the sorrows of Christ's Body in the world by her feeling. But suffering, ignorance, ugliness are seemingly endless. She helps cure a patient today, and tomorrow his bed is occupied by another. She teaches English to forty students this year, and the next year forty-one file to replace them. She dismisses one unwed motherand must hold open the door to the next one trudging up the walk with the old story, the old weight. Year after year. It's like seeing one's self poured out into a sieve. In the face of this, a woman whose animus traits remain suppressed will likely resort to various neuroses or con-stantly seek different work in the futile hope that she can some place effect a lasting contribution. A woman whose anima traits are overpowered by the fury of overdeveloped masculine traits will, perhaps, react by developing a pro-tective hardness. It is the woman who has achieved, or is achieving, a personality synthesis who can make a real, conscious adaptation to such realities. It is she who is natu-rally equipped, too, for deep faith; she perceives that God provides, that the Body of Christ will be transformed, that God wills her to spend herself toward this omega point of creation in His plan. This is the faith the sister, in be-coming a whole person, must live by in meeting the ostensi-bly insurmountable suffering in the world,s To assume choice and accomplishment of work is to as-sume a weighty burden. It is, in fact, impossible to carry withottt aid. Evaluatory support comes to the individual in a process known as feedback. Moral aid comes in a system of living together known as community. Developed originally in connection with electronic com-puters and other servomechanisms, feedback has since been applied by psychologists to human beings. The im-portant feedback feature is its loop pattern: it loops back or feeds bacl~ to its starting point. For example, energy, starting from a person, is directed outward to some work. 8 Esther Harding in The Way o! All Women discusses this effec-tively. Although she finds psychological or anthropological answers to most problems, she admits that the overwhelming amount of sor-row a woman meets can be met "only by something which we must call a 'religious attitude.' " ÷ ÷ ÷ Work VOLUME 23, 1964 6O9 + + Sister M. Judith, O.S.B. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 610 Some indication of progress is then fed back to the person. Perception of this progress then increases or diminishes the amount of energy the person can again direct outward to that work. Feedback, if convergent (favorable), increases energy; if divergent (unfavorable), it decreases both psy-chic and physical energy. "Nothing succeeds like success" describes the effect of convergent feedback. If, say, a teaching sister recognizes from student response, peer respect, and principal com-mendation that she is successful in her work, she will in-crease her efforts. The convergent feedback creates more energy. It alleviates anxiety, builds self-confidence, and leads to accelerated effort. This is a simple, psychological fact. To desire to work without recognition is neither natural nor virtuous. There is a difference, however, in the favorable feedback needs of an immature and a ma-ture sister. The immature sister depends too constantly and too heavily on spoken or written approval. Her need becomes insatiable; and, with a pause in