Suchergebnisse

Issue 33.2 of the Review for Religious, 1974. ; Review ]or Religious is edited by faculty members of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right (~) 1974 by Review ]or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.75. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent Review Jor Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. R. F. Smith, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor March 1974 Volume 33 Number 2 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts, books for review, and materials for "Subject Bibliography for Religious" should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. Directed Prayer and the Founding Charism Norbert Brockman, S.M. Father Norbert Brockman is a staff member of the Marianist Center; 4435 East Patterson Road; Dayton, Ohio 45430. Among the growing movements among American religious in the past few years has been the directed retreat. In increasing numbers, religious have placed themselves under a director who has guided their meditation for periods as long as thirty days.1 The movement owes much to the Jesuits, who have taken leadership throughout the countr~ in reviving an approach to the retreat that is closely linked with their own renewal and spirituality.2 There have been spinooffs from the directed retreat movement that sug-gest that directed retreats are much more than a passing fad, although for some they will take on that character. The first of the side benefits of the directed retreat movement has been that religious of a number of congregations, especially women, are being trained in the method and approach of directing prayer. The Jesuits have established centers for this purpose, and programs for training, using the Ignatian retreat, are well patronized. A congequence of this is the flowering of directed retreats among women religious,, and the better training of for-mation personnel capable of working with mature nuns. Secondly, the directed retreat seems to bring many religious to long-term spiritual direction. Foi" the first time, for many religious, ~it has been possible--in a directed retreat--to consider spiritual direction as some- 1See, for example, Margaret Baker, H.V.M., "My Experience of a Directed Retreat," Review for Religious, v. 31 (1972), pp. 573-7; Sister Christine Freed, R.G.S., "I Feel like Singing Forever," Review ]or Religious, v. 32 (1973), pp. 1379-1384. '-'Thomas E. Clarke, SJ., "The Ignatian Exercises---Contemplation and Discernment," Review ]or Religious, v. 31 (1972), pp. 62-9. 257 258 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 thing other than crisis intervention. While one can comment only impres-sionistically, it seems that a real phenomenon of the past three years has been the increased desire among religious for spiritual direction.:' While the pattern is not so clear as to the expectations.of the religious seeking direction, the question of growth in prayer is always a serious considera-tion. The direction of prayer itself has an ancient and honorable tradition in the Church. From the earliest days of Christianity, the spiritual novice submitted himself or herself to a spiritual guide under whose direction growth in the life of prayer was undertaken. The stories of the fathers of the desert reinforce this strongly, and direction in prayer was for them an all-important issue in the relationship between novice and adept Chris-tian. The origins of this are obscure, but it would seem that the earliest forms of direction in prayer come from the baptismal catechesis, where the person responsible for the conversion of a neophyte not only helped in the education of the candidate for baptism, but particularly assumed the task of.teaching them the spiritual life. Together the two shared a period of prayer and 'fasting before the administration of the sacrament." In modern times, with the structure of the annual or other periodic retreat, various forms or styles of retreats came to the fore. The Ignatian r~treat has always had, in this period, a special place. It has been widely used b~, religious whose congregations are not Ignatian in spirituality, and its very basic Christian themes have made it equally.popular among lay-people. Although the preached retreat had become the predominant form, the notion of the directed retreat never died out, and its revival on such a large scale is in reality a return to an earlier Ignatian tradition. The Notion of the Directed Retreat The focus in the directed retreat is on the notion of "directed." It is a retreat in which the pfirticipant works with the retreat master in the man-ner of a s~iritual director. There is normally an hour-long interview each day, during which the retreatant's prayer is evaluated, directions and themes are~ given for further meditations, and the quality of the retreatant's prayer' is developed? As indicated above, although the nature of the directed retreat has ancient roots in the Church, it has been most characteristic o~ Jesuit re-aSee Sandra Marie Schneiders, I.H.M., "The 'Return' to Spiritual Direction," Spiritual Lile, v. 18 (1972), pp. 263-78. 4Michel Dujarier, Le parrainage des adultes aux trois premiers siO(les de l'Eglise (Paris: 1962), p. 377. 5Herbert F. Smith, S.J., "The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat," Review ]or Religious;,v. 32 (1973), pp. 490-7. This article is available from Review ]or Religious as a separate reprint. Directed Prayer and the Founding Charism / ~259 treats in recent years. The point needs to be made that the nature of this retreat is simply the direction of prayer itself, adapted to the peculiar de-sign of a retreat, a period of time in which a person withdraws from ordi-nary pursuits to develop more consciously and deliberately in the spiritual life. Admittedly, among American religious other values have also entered in,, but this has always been understood as the essential purpose of retreat. For, a religious working far from the center of his province~ in a small community, the value of fellowship is a real one, for example. Some province retreats resemble a tribal gathering in this regard, and others use a workshop model rather than the traditional one of withdrawal for prayer. The comments that follow will be placed in the context of directed re-treats, but they might as easily apply to much of the real work of spiritual direction. Direction in prayer, even the special, concentrated form of di-rected meditation used in directed retreats, is the heart of spiritual direc-tion. An aspect of regular ~direction, even if relatively infrequent, is sug-gestions for prayer, the joint evaluation of movements in prayer, the dis-cernment of these movements, and help in heeding the call to new levels of prayer. The purpose of this article, however, is not to explore the nature and values, of the directed retreat, but to discuss its use to inculcate the values from the founding charism of a particular ~religious congregation. The question of the nature of th~ directed retreat has been explored in depth elsewhere." What has not been investigated at any point is how the tech-nique of the directed retreat can contribute to the deepening of the ~ommit-ment of a religious to his/her °founding charism. Because non-Ignatian development of the directed retreat has been so°limited, the paucity of in-formation on the topic is understandable. What follows here is based on the author's study within the documents of his own order, as well as at-tempts to work with sisters of two other,groups attempting to find better means for developing their own spirituality within their members. The Founding Charism .In recent attempts among religious to heed the directives of Vatican II that they renew .themselves in the spirit of'their founders and foundresses, the emphasis has been placed upon research and the question of teaching the proper spirit of the order to cb.ndidates,r Along with this has gone the concern for finding newer expressions for the origina! teaching of the founder, while remaining faithful to his/her intent. This has produced some valuable materials in some groups, some false starts in others; there ~William A. Barry, ~S.J., "The Experience of the First and Second Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises," Review ]or Religious, v. 32 (1973), pp. 102'-9. See also the same author's "Silence and tl~e Directed Retreat," Review ]or Religious, v. 32 (1973), pp. 347-51; and Smith, "The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat." rVatican Council II, The Renewal o/Religious LiIe, no. 2. Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 have been elements of both renewal and deception in the experience of getting in touch with one's roots. In the directed retreat, the issue changes somewhat. The purpose of the retreat is not to analyze, speculate, or study. It is to experience the meaning of the life of the Lord in a renewed sense. It is to deepen one's prayer, and to deal with issues that affect the spiritual life. When we speak of a directed retreat designed to inculcate the values of the spirituality of a religious congregation, therefore, the point is that the important elements of that spirituality must be assembled in what may be new ways, intended to move the soul through prayer more than grouped in perfectly logical structures. The experiential dimension, and the very goal of the directed re-treat according to one's own charism, is to bring the retreatant to the ex-perience that the founder had in founding the congregation. One must experience the foundation within oneself as a truly authentic, congruent integration of the spiritual life. It should make sense, bring an interior peace, and strongly confirm one's commitment to this congregation at this time in history. Few religious have taken themselves, or been taken, through the experience of the founder or foundress.'By this is not meant that the privations or sufferings of the founder--the more dramatic ele-ments of his/her life--need be reproduced in some sort of role playing. Indeed, the point is the reproduction of the insight and inspiration of the founding charism itself. What elements of the Christian experience brought about the development that the religious knows as his/her spiritual legacy? How were the evangelical counsels and the gospel message ex-perienced by the founder in such a way that the foundation of this group became a means of incarnating these values? If the congregation is the incarnation of the values of the founder--an extension of his/her charism into history--how is it to be experienced, personally by the members and corporately by the community as a whole? The questions above zero in on the issues that the directed retreat can deal with, in terms of the founding charism of a congregation. What is ob-vious, then, is that the design of the retreat must be developmental, and that might well be, as stated above, quite different from the design used to teach the ideas of the charism, or to study them. Critical Elements of a Founding Charism What, then, are the elements of a founding charism that must be con-sidered in designing such a retreat experience? The Spiritual Exercises are a brilliant example and deserve to be studied, even by those whose spiritual tradition differs sharply from that of the Jesuits. The themes, from the "Two Standards" to the last consideration, are highly developmental. Each builds on what precedes, not so much intellectually, but in the context of faith. It is possible to find all the elements of the Christian life from conversion Directed Prayer and the Founding Charism / 261 to union with God. In short, a spiritual path is described. At the same time, the style of the retreat is congruent with the highly personal emphasis on decision and discernment. The Ignatian directed retreat is characterized (usually, although there are exceptions) by lone meditation, usually at some length, by minimal communal aspects, and by minimal liturgical life. The focus is on the individual coming to grips with his/her personal relationships with the Lord, with an acceptance of that Lordship in one's life, and in the development of a prayer life that nourishes and defines that relationship. What then are the elements of a founding charism that are critical to the development of directed prayer in this ~evelopmental sense? Four ele-ments surface in any investigation of this question: method of prayer, ascetical and/or devotional practices, a spiritual system, and theological concepts. These are the elements that the designer of the retreat prayer experiences needs to coordinate. The study that makes this possible should be on the part of the retreat director, and the retreatant should not be called o'n to do other than move immediately into the prayer experience. .Let us, then, briefly look at each of these elements of the founding charism in turn. Method of Prayer The first critical question is whether the founder taught a method of prayer, particularly a method of meditation. In many cases, what will be discovered is that the founder/foundress did .use a currently popular method of meditation, but that it was a matter of convenience in instruct-ing novices, and not an important element of the spirituality of the con-gregation. Here some communal discernment is necessary. In reading the founder's letters of direction, for example, or instructions on prayer, it is necessary to discover the significance of any proper method to the totality of his/her founding charism. If a distinct approach, emphasis, or technique is present, it should be integrated in the directed prayer of the retreat experience, For instance, a congregation consecrated to Mary might well have developed a receptive approach to prayer based on an understanding of Our Lady's fiat, a disposition of total availabi!ity to the Lord. It would hardly be congruent in such a case to suggest.an aggressive, intellectual type of mental prayer. It would surely conflict with many of the themes that the founding charism will c6ntain. Ascetical and/or Devotional Practices This area, like the last, deserves careful work to determine the con-tinuing value of the ascetical and/.or devotional practices of the founder. Things which are merely characteristic of the nationality or culture of the founder may be safely set aside, and tangential devotions may also be ex-cluded. After all, even founders and foundresses are entitled to devotional 262 / Review 1or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 expressions which are uniquely personal, and without having these pro-jected onto their religious foundations! In what sense is the devotion in-volved in the direction that the founder gave his/her early members? What is its theological content? A founder or foundress with a great de-votion to the cross, who writes and speaks of the cross in such a way that it permeates the spirituality of the order, is teaching something of greater import than a founder with a great personal devotion to a. patron saint or to a shrine. Similarly, the practice of taking names in religion may have been merely the religious convention of the time of foundation, or it may have had specific meaning~ Other ascetical practices are.to be similarly evalu-ated. In one tradition, the regulations of the founder about the diet may have been a simple indication of poverty within his .cultural context; in another tradition, the manner in which the question is treated might indi-cate that the retreat should include some fasting, if possible, and with cerr tain goals in mind. A Spiritual System The most obvious element is the spiritual system of the foundation. Did the founder have an approach to spirituality which he taught to the early members? What virtues did he consider important, especially, what aspects of the Christian life did he consider characteristic of his founda-tion? What were his interpretation and understanding of evangelical chastity, poverty, and obedience, and did this differ from the prevailing understand-ings of his time? Did the foundation include any other vows besides the three traditional ones, even though these may no longer exist in the con-gregation? What was the value that the founder/foundress was stressing by having additional vows? What was his/her notion of common life and community experience? What is the role of the apostolate in fostering the spiritual life? All these are part of the questions that must be asked in the process of constructing the spiritual system of the founder or foundress, as, usually in most cases, active founders have not written out the spiritual system in clear fashion. Besides exploring the documents of the congregation, however, the living experience of the early foundation is itself of importance. The story of the life of the founder is often of great value in determining what he meant by a certain teaching. Religious orders are, after all, not only com-munities, but a special modality of community--witness communities that show forth the transcendent dimension of Christian life. The witness of the early foundation, therefore, is of great importance as a form of teach-ing. Theological Concepts Usually, theological concepts do not appear in a founding charism as Directed Prayer and the Founding Charism / 263 such. Founders and foundresses are rarely interested in theology except as it reveals the person :of Jesus Or underlies a religious value. Nevertheless, founders are usually very concerned about fidelity to the deposit of faith. A renewed understanding of theological concepts in recent years may make it possible to enrich the understanding of the founder. The founding charism does not really change, but the religious order is called to fidelity to it, not to literal acceptance in the language, cultural norms, and symbols of the early society. As the Church grows in its understanding, of herself and her divine mission, so 'a religious congregation should show signs of growth in its self-understanding.'To utilize a theological concept such as the Eucharist without integrating the better insights coming from a renewed liturgy of celebration would be more than unfortunate. It would be .a denial of the fidelity'of the founder to the Church's teaching, because as he was faithful to ~the Church's expression of eternal truth in his time and culture, so the congregation, today must reproduce that fidelity. Again, renewed Biblical scholarship has made possible far greater sophistication in understanding the gospel message than heretofore. That cannot be ignored in studying the founding charism, merely because it has happened since the founder died! The °emphasis laid upon the experiential above is not to be interpreted as demeaning the importance of the intellectual as preparation for prayer. Anti-intellectualism is not a mark of the Christian, Quite the contrary, and the directed prayer experience will be the richer for the .hours spent by both ~director and retreatant in studying the basic teaching ,of the Church, especially in those areas that touch upon the founding charism. ~Fhe Retreat ~s Reflection of the Founding Charism The first of the elements of a founding charism was stated as the method of meditation or mental prayer. The idea of the importance of the ,congruence of this with~the total spirituality of the founder or foundress was stressed, but this idea can also be expanded~. The entire style of the directed retreat should reflect the founding.charism. The import/race of this cannot easily be exaggerated because of ~he'experiential nature of:the directed retreat. There" is a profound difference between the directed re-treat., as desert experien.ce (silence, lone meditation at great length, and so forth) and the directed retreat as communal',experience (common liturgi-cal celebrations,' some group discussion, and so forth). In among these contrasts are many modalities of directed retreat, of course. The point is that it is important to include those aspects which will most effectively help the retreatant to gro~w into the values which are the subjects of the prayer experiences. The spirituality that emphasizes a deeply communitarian-or service value will not come through successfully in a desert experience. This i~ not to say that the desert experience is not of value for religious f~'om adtive commui~ities~(far from it!), but only that a limited aspect of their spirituality is likqly to emerge in such a context. Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 Similarly, methods of discernment should be congruent with the found-ing charism itself. What was the method for discerning the will of God used by the founder or foundress? Was it a communal means, or one based on authority? Discernment itself has become an issue, both within the directed retreat movement and in other contexts? It is an integral part of the Spiritual Exercises, and would seem to be an integral part of the work of the director of prayer. Within a given tradition, the method of dis-cernment might well be prophetic or charismatic. More likely it will reflect an authoritarian tone, which would translate into the directed retreat as a form of obedience to the spiritual guide. This type of obedience itself needs to be understood, as it isnot the same as the obedience owed a superior under the evangelical vow. In some traditions, the means of discernment might be very communal, in such a way that group direction might be a compatible style for certain congregations using the directed retreat. This would be alongside the pri-vate interview, which is essential to the directed retreat. A final word should be added on the place of resolutions. Many re-ligious feel strongly that they should come home from retreat with clear resolutions for the future--a battle plan, so to speak. The presumption is so strong with many that it is an issue that should be frankly discussed with the director. It is certainly not necessary for the directed retreat; it is enough that there be an interior renewal and deepened commitment to the spirit of the foundation. Whether there are "results" or decisions on con-crete action for the future should flow from the needs of the person him-self/ herself. Too often it is merely another expression of a workaholic personality. Conclusion This has been a simple and sketchy view of the development of a directed retreat from the point of view of the goal of growth in the spirit of one's own order. As such, directed prayer is a powerful means of growth toward incarnating in oneself the values of the founding charism. It is a means of renewal that not only affirms one's commitment to religious life, but also goes far toward building and renewing the community through renewed religious, standing firmly in the tradition of the one who brought the order into being under God's grace. 8Criticism has been recently expressed by W. Peters, S.J., "Discernment: Doubts," Review ]or Religious, v. 32 (1973), pp. 814-7. See also James V. Gau, S.J., "Dis-cernment and the Vow of Obedience," Review for Religious, v. 32 (1973), pp. 569-74; David T. Asselin, S.J., "Christian Maturity and Spiritual Discernment," Review ]or Religious, v. 27 (1968), pp. 581-95; and John R. Sheets, S.J., "Profile of the Spirit: A Theology of the Discernment of Spirits," Review ]or Religious, v. 30 (1971), pp. 363-76. The last article (that of Father Sheets) is available from Review ]or Religious as a separate reprint. Prayer: The Context of Discernment Charles J. Healey, S.J. Father Charles J. Healey, S.J., is a faculty member of the Department of Theology; Boston College; Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts 02167. Discernment Today In our attempts to seek and find God in our lives and to live out our Chris-tian lives of faith, hope, and love, we are often involved in a process of rediscovery. There is not that much that is new for us in the sense of dis-covering something for the first time. But often the conditions of the times in which we live and our own felt needs combine to lead us to focus on a particular aspect of the spiritual life. Such, I would suggest, is the case in the area of discernment. It is certainly a term that has deep roots in the history of Christian spirituality. But ours is a period that has seized upon the process of discernment--perhaps too quickly and too glibly at times-- in the hopes that it might aid us in our efforts to love and serve God both as individuals and as communities, and to seek and respond more gener-ously to His will in our lives. This renewed interest in discernment should come as no surprise. First of all, there is the very visible desire of many to deepen their own union with God, to establish or reestablish what they consider the essentials and priorities in their lives, and to make any required decisions in a context of faith and prayer. In a time of great change, many are seeking to find strength and unity within themselves not only to cope effectively with their lives and all their responsibilities, but also. to maintain themselves as lov-ing and productive persons. Secondly, many communities are turning to the process of discernment as a method of helping them in their attempts at renewal as a community and as a basis for group decisions. But whether 265 266 / Review for Religious, ~olume 33, 197.4/2 it is a case of individual discernment or corporate discernment, it is impor-tant to stress over and over that the basis of any discernment has to be the deep and intense prayer of the persons involved in the process. The context of any true discernment is prayer. The purpose of this article, then, is to offer some reflections on discernment, using the word in the broadest sense here and focusing on the intimate connection between discernment and prayer. ontex! Is Prayer Discernment really makes sense only when it is situated in the context of prayer. Unless there is a corresponding desire to seek and find God continually in our lives and to deepen our awareness of His reality and presence, discernment can end up just being talk. The seeking and yearn-ing attitude of the Psalmist must penetrate our own lives deeply: "To you, my heart speaks; you my glance seeks, your presence, O Lord, I seek. Hide not your face from me" (Ps 27:8-9). There is, of course, a renewed in-terest and even a hunger on the part of many today in the area of per-sonal prayer; and this accounts in part for the renewed interest in the area of discernment. There are many indications of this all around us at the present time; and many are definitely expressing a desire for praye~r which springs from a felt human need and the presence of the Spirit in our midst, ever renewing, ever arousing. Recently I was listening to a taped conference on prayer by Thomas Merton in which he mentioned at the beginning that he ~did not like to talk a great deal about prayer. This was certainly not from any disinterest, for if there is any constant preoccupation and interest that emerges in his life and writings, it would be with the value and priority he constantly gives to prayer. But he wanted to stress the point that pr~yer for us should be something simple and natural, something as simple and natiaral as breath-ing. It is hard for us to talk about breathing since it is such a normal process of our lives and one wfiich we can easily take for granted. So, too, he feels should be the case with prayer. At times we can complicate it and make an issue or a cause out of it. But usually when we make a~ca~]se or an issue out of something, we oppose it to something else: "This is.prayer, this isn't. This is something sacred, this isn't." The f~us could then shift to the issue rather than the reality, and prayer could then be viewed as something complicated and artificial. Perhaps we can best consider prayer as the simple, natural, continual response of one who is,. convinced he be-longs to God and seeks to grow in union with Him, and the response of one who realizes he is a person possessed by a loving God. And it is in this climate, this atmosphere of prayer tl~at the whole process of discern-ment should be placed. The context is a very normal, full, and serious seek-ing after God. Pray'~r." The Context o[ Discernment / 267 The Process of Discernment ' Discernment, then, should not be considered a cause or an issue nor ev~en' a method in itself. It is a process in prayer by which one seeks seri-ously to know and follow God's will, to hear His call and faithfully and generously respond in the very real life situation of the person concerned. If l~ra~er should be a very human and ordinary experience, so too should b6 discernment. In this sense, it is a very simple process; and yet, on the other hand, it can be difficult in the sense that it presupposes constant efforts at'a deep and continuous union with God through prayer. This re-quires perseverance, patience, and willingness to expend time and energy. It' cannot be turned off and on like a water faucet if it is to be effective; it presupposes a firm basis of faith and the continuous seeking of the presence of the Lord. ~Alth0ugh discernment is a word that can come easily to the lips, it can still remain a rather elusive concept. Perhaps this is because it pre-soppos~ so much else. At any rate, we might recall Father Futrellrs defi-nition that discernment "involves choosing the way of the light of Christ instead of the way of the darkness of the Evil One and living out the con-sequences of this choice through discerning what specific decisions and ac-tions a~e, demanded to follow Christ here and now.''1 Thus discernment focuses on the ongoing attempts to clarify and ascertain God's will in our lives and seeks to specify what actions and decisions are required in the life of "on'e who wishes to follow Christ tothlly. The process presupposes an int'eflse desire, hunger, and willingness to seek God's will and to embrace it generously once one has come to a reasonable certitude regarding it. W~ might say it all comes down to our attempts to hear and respond to:the wo~'d of God in our own unique lives. But. if we are to be sensitive t~lGod speaking to us in the many ways He does.in our liv6s, we must first hear His call; we must listen quietly and give Him frequent opportuni-ties to speak to us. If we fire to b~ sensitive to God's presence and attentive to His touch, there must be an element of stillness and listening. Since this listening~aspect is so important for discernment, we should not be surprised to find this aspect of prayer being re-e~mphasized today.2 Many are ex-periencing the need today to. take time out from all their activities in order to turn within and seek God's presence within, to contemplate Him and to listen to Him in the stillness of their hearts. It is a kind of active receptivity as we let the radical truth of God shine forth with its own life within us. We seek to make the words of the P~almist our own: "In your light we see light." It is in this atmosphere .of stillness and presence that one can best determine God's call, God's touch, God's will. ~John C. Futrell, S.J., "Ignatian Discernment," Studies in the Spirituality o] Jesuits, v. 2, no. 2, p. 47. '-'See, for example, W. Norris Clarke, S.J., "Be Still and Contemplate,"~ New Catholic World, November-December 1972, pp. 246 ft. 2611 / Review [or Religious, l/'olume 33, 1974/2 Building on the Past As we seek to see clearly where God is touching us at a given time and where He is leading us and asking us to respond and follow, it is very help-ful to grow in the awareness of where God has touched us and nourished us0 in the past. Each of us has his or her own unique history in the hands of a loving God, that is, significant events, persons, books, Scripture pas-sages, and so forth, that have been a source of great strength and help. All of this constitutes our own faith experience of God; and the more it is brought to our conscious awareness, the more it becomes our own. Often in discernment workshops or faith sharing experiences, methods and oppor-tunities are presented to help individuals grasp more explicitly what they uniquely possess of God in their lives. One can call this by various names: one's core experience of God, one's beauty within, one's name of grace, and so forth. But it all comes down to the same reality: we seek to realize what we already possess, what is uniquely ours, and where God has touched us and loved us significantly. Once we are more aware of how God has acted in our lives in the past, we can more easily return in a spirit of prayer to be nourished and strengthened and sustained. What has sustained us in ~the past and what has touched us before, can sustain us and touch us again. This conscious awareness also helps us to be more responsive and sensitive to where God is touching us now, where He is leading us. We can begin to see a pattern and a continuity in our lives of faith. Above all, we be-come more aware of the profoundest reality of our lives, namely that which we possess of the power and love of God that has worked within us in the past and continues to be operative in the present. Discernment in prayer, then, is an ongoing process that seeks to find God and His will in our lives; it involves a constant seeking of God and an awaren(ss of His presence in our lives. Through discernment one seeks to hear God's continuous call, to recognize it as clearly as possible in order to follow it as faithfully and generously as possible. It seeks to answer the question: How can I best love and serve God in the present circumstances of my life. It is an ongoing process because our lives, our experience, our work, our relationship with God is an ongoing process. His Word does not come to us in a vacuum but in the concrete circumstances of our everyday lives. As Thomas Merton says in one of my favorite passages from his writings: Every moment and every event of every man's life on earth plants some-thing in his soul. For just as the wind carries thousands of winged seeds, so each moment brings with it germs of spiritual vitality that come to rest im-perceptibly in the minds and wills of men. Most of these unnumbered seeds perish and are lost, because men are not prepared to receive them; for such seeds as these cannot spring up anywhere except in the good soil of freedom and love.3 aThomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation (New York: New Directions, 1961), p. 14. Prayer: The Context of Discernment / 269 In a very true sense, it is only the faith-filled person, the contemplating person that is acutely sensitive to these seeds of God in his or her life. And for the soil of freedom and love to flourish in our own lives, we must con-stantly open ourselves to the Spirit of God through an abiding spirit of prayer. Not only must we seek to grow sensitive to God's speaking to us in the external events of our lives, but we must seek to grow in an awareness and sensitivity to the movements within ourselves as we react personally to the signs of His will and presence. How do my present reactions corre-spond to the felt experience of God that has been so much a part of my life in the past? Are my present movements in resonance with that source of peace, that sense of oneness and wholeness before God that I have ex-perienced before, that sense of belonging to God that has been so nourish-ing and sustaining in my life? Are they consistent with the normal signs of the Spirit working within us, the signs of "love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, humility and self-control" (Gal. 5:22-3)? These are some of the questions one seeks to clarify in order to fulfill the desire to seek and find the Lord and His will. The spiritual director can play an important role in assisting here, for at times we can be too close to ourselves to have the needed objectivity. The director can aid us in clarifying and objectifying our own experiences and interior movements and aid us to see where God is touching us, loving us, and indicating His presence and His will. A Sense of Freedom In addition to a deep and constant spirit of prayer, discernment also requires an attitude of freedom and detachment. The attitude of freedom I refer to is that which allows a person to give to God and His will the central place in one's life;, it is a freedom and detachment from all other things that would either prevent or hinder one's striving to focus On God. It is the sense of freedom that allows God to become and remain the cen-tral reality in one's life. The Psalmist speaks of this centrality with the words: "As the eyes of the servant are on the hands of the Master, so my eyes are on you, O Lord." It is the freedom that allows one to respond generously to Jesus' invitation to Matthew, "Come, follow me," and His words to the disciples of John the Baptist, "Come and see." Come and see and taste the goodness of the Lord. It is the freedom expressed in the words of the prophet Samuel, "Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening" (1 Sam 3:10), and the words of the Psalmist, "Here am I, Lord, I come to do your will" (Ps 40:7-8). We might note in passing that there can be an intimate connection between this spirit of freedom and a lifestyle that is marked by a spirit of simplicity. How does one grow in this spirit of freedom? Ultimately it is through a cooperation with the power of God's grace and love working within us. 270 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 But one important way is through a deepening realization that one is a loved sinner, that one has been touched and healed. A profound convic-tion of God's steadfast love and fidelity can be a very liberating force that enables one to turn to God and seek Him alone and His service in a spirit of simplicity and joy. This freedom grows in a context of lively faith and is nourished in prayerful reflection on God's goodness, mercy, love, and providence. Conclusion In general, discernment in prayer is an inward looking process; the focus is mainly on the movements and experiences of God within us. But the process must never stop here for there should also be an outward dimension of discernment. First of all, as in so many areas of the spiritual life of man, a healthy norm is: "By their fruits you shall know them." There is a confirmatory aspect of all discernment in the external fruits that are in evidence and the good works that are produced. Secondly, the great commandment,of love must always be kept in perspective, and a deepening union with God should lead to a deepening union with one's fellow man. An increasing sense of compassion for one's fellow man and his needs should flow from one's union with God. Finally, the process should lead to an increasing sensitivity to life and all its mysteries, to an increasing awareness of.God's presence in all things, and to our own growth as-con-templatives in action. A Norwegian Outpost: Maria Einscete M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O. Father M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O., is a Cistercian monk of St. Joseph's Abbey; Spencer, Massachusetts 01562. Our plane put down at Oslo and I soon bungled my way through customs, only .to find--no one. Communications had gotten a bit confus(d and now there was no one there. But everyone I asked seemed t6 know of him: "Brother Robert, yes, the hermit. He lives up in the mountains near Lake Tinn." And so I began my pilgrimage. Ten o'clock the next night I stepped down from a bus in the pouring rain and made bold to ask the young lady who alighted with me the oft repeated question: "Where is Brother Robert? . That way," she answered with a bold sweep of the arm as her hand pointed up a dark rise of conifers. I turned in the opposite direction to the friendly lights of an inn. It was a good choice. There among the youths gathered around the blazing fire was Jan. A couple years earlier he had been up to see the hermit with his pastor. He offered to be my guide. Good to his word, Jan arrived early the next morning with his little Volkswagen which took us as far as it could. Then we began to climb on foot. I was a bit embarrassed when Jan took my bag, but soon I was very grateful that he had--for otherwise I probably would never have made it. We must have climbed steadily, along an old logging trail, for forty-five minutes or more when Jan sudde.nly stopped and pointed back into the woods. We had actually passed our goal: Maria Einscete--Mary's Hermit-age. Maria Einscete was just a simple log cabin, one just like so many others in those forests. Larid in Norway belongs to the owner by hereditary right. It cannot be "definitively alienated. Most families living in the villages or on the lowland farms own stretches of woodland up on the mountains. 272 / Review ]or Religious, l,'olume 33, 197/.'-/2 In better times they kept men up there ,to care for the woods, but now most of these lumberjack's cabins are empty. One of these landlords, a kindly man, let Brother Robert use his abandoned cabin, plant some vege-tables, and dig a well. From the United States to Chile and to Norway Brother Robert, Father Robert Kevin Anderson, is a monk of St. Joseph's Abbey, Spencer, Massachusetts. He entered the Cistercian Order at the Abbey of Our Lady of the Valley back in 1949 when he was 17. He was one of the first choir novices professed after the community trans-ferred to Spencer. Frater Kevin, as he was called in those days, cared for the newly planted orchards and, after his ordination to the priesthood, for the newly planted brothers--as father master of the lay novices. But he had always experienced an attraction toward a more simple and radical form of monasticism. He went on to pursue this, first at St. Benedict's Monastery in the Colorado Rockies, then at the Monastery of Las Condes in the Chilean Andes. It was at the latter monastery that he first embarked on the eremitical life which he found to be his true calling. Later Father Robert sought deeper solitude in southern Chile; but the bishop there had some ideas of his own about how Father was to lead the eremitical life. So Father moved on to the land of his family's origins, Sweden. Here again, a hard-pressed bishop with few priests had his own ideas how a hermit-priest should live. And again Father moved, this time across the border to the diocese of the sympathetic and understanding Cistercian bishop, John Gran of Oslo. Until he could find a suitable site, Father Robert lived in a distant parish. Soon he found what seemed like an ideal place for a hermit: an island on Lake Tinn. But appearances can be deceiving. Living on an island meant dependence on others for all supplies, or keeping a boat for summer and an ice sleigh for winter. Then, too, the fine summer weather brought traffic to the lake. Father lifted up his eyes to the mountains, and soon ascended to Maria Einscete. The Hermit Life o| Father Robert Although feature articles and TV presentations have made Father Robert known throughout Norway and even throughout Scandinavia, he yet receives few visitors. The Norwegians respect and are inspired by his life of prayer and presence to God. They do not want to intrude. Besides, the ascent is difficult and the way known to few. The Catholic pastor, whose parish extends for several hundred miles, calls in from time to time. And of course, the good sisters find their way there at times; also, the search-ing young--from as far away as south France or America. Priests have occasionally come for retreat. And a pious convert lives not far from Father's mailbox and enjoys having him in to say Mass in her front room. A Norwegian Outpost: Maria Einscete / 273 But usually Bror Robert (as the Norwegians call him) is alone with his goats and his God. He goes down to the road to the mailbox every few days--and the owner of the neighboring box watches to see that the mail is collected, a sign that all is well with their hermit. Once a week or so, on skis in winter and a motor bike in summer, Father will go to the village for supplies. All the villagers know and love their hermit. They expressed real joy when "Brother Robert's brother" came to visit him. From time to time Father goes to Oslo to speak to the Dominican nuns, the only con-templative community in Norway. And once a year he goes south to the French Abbey of Mont-des-Cats to see his spiritual father. This was one of the conditions the bishop placed on his presence in the diocese as a hermit: that once a year he would spend some time in a monastery. Father Robert's life is very simple. He prays the hours quite as they always have been celebrated in the monastery, and offers Mass for all man-kind. He does some wood carving, mounts ikons, and practices the ancient Norwegian craft of weaving baskets from birch roots. He also translates books. He is a gifted linguist and has mastered both new and old Nor-wegian, as well as the local dialect. These occupations, along with Mass stipends, help him to keep body and soul together. At the time of my first visit Father Robert had been living in his log cabin for about a year. The only facilities were the woods. He had dug a well nearby and so had plenty of good water. But he confessed to me that he spent most of his time during that first winter chopping firewood--for his cabin had no inner walls and was very difficult to heat. The Spencer community helped him then to get a logger's caravan, which is not only much more snug and easier to heat, but which Father was able to locate higher up on the mountain where he can benefit from much more sunshine. The view from the new location, looking out across Lake Tinn to Mount Gaustaf, one of the highest peaks in southern Norway, is simply magnifi-cent. As the rays of the sun play on clouds, mountains, lake, and forest one is ceaselessly awed. This is indeed a Godly place--an ideal place for a hermit. The Monastic Presence of Father Robert This extension of Spencer Abbey and of the American Cistercian Re--' gion, this foothold of Cistercian life in Norway, is certainly something for which we should be most grateful and praise the Lord. The effectiveness of Father's monastic presence cannot be fully evalu-ated but it is certainly significant. This is rather surprising in a country where most are at best nominal members of a state church, and the few, very scattered Catholics tax the handful of devouted priests and religious who seek to minister to them. The latter, without exception, seemed to ad-mire and respect Father and find inspiration in his fidelity to his particular calling. But the Lutherans, too, revere him and seem to be grateful and 274 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 happy .that this man of God is in their midst. They relate stories of her-mits and monks who lived in this land before the Reformation and the Danish oppression, even of a particular hermit in the area of Lake Tinn. Even for these apparently religiously indifferent, ,the man of prayer living alone on the mountain is a sign of hope, of something better, higher, tran-scendent. And when the final option comes, hopefully, with perhaps only a vague and confused idea of what he stands for in their minds, and the grace flowing from his prayer in their hearts, they will reach out for that Transcendent Reality. Blessed be the Lord God . . . he has raised up a horn of salvation for Norway. Now that there is a Cistercian bishop and hermit, in Norway may we not soon have a regular cenobitic foundation? It is time the Cistercians returned. The Cistercians first directed their steps to Norway back in the twelfth century, in the Golden Age of the Order. And there are still significant remains ~of their presence. On the Island of HoevedCya in the Oslo Fjord, just a short ferryboat ride from the capital, are the ruins of an abbey founded in 1147 from Kirkstall,. The whole outiine of the regular build-ings is there. The walls of .the church reach up ten and fifteen feet, and higher at the comer tower. Through the insisterice of 'Bishop Gran the government now preserves this site as a national monument. It is a very beautiful site indeed. But historical sites, no matter how beautiful, are not enough. The Church of Norway, like every other, needs for its fullness the presence of living and thriving contemplative communities. Guided by the Lord, Brother Robert has made a beginning. May the Lord prosper what he has begun. Reflections on Bangalore Sister Mary-John Mananzan, O.S.B. From October 14-22, 1973, the Second Asian Monastic Congress was held in Banga-lore, India. Sister Mary-John Mananzan, O.S.B., attended the meeting and gives here her impressions of the Congress. Sister Mary-John is Dean; St. Scholastica's College; P.O. Box 3153; Manila, Philippines. This will not be a report on the Bangalore Congress in the usual sense, but rather a reliving of significant experiences and a sharing of insights gained. No amount of faithful reporting can capture the atmosphere of such a meeting. But .perhaps the sharing of one's impressions can give a glimpse into the dynamics of the ievent much more than a complete but detached description 9f the proceedings. Personalities Let me begin with the significant people who made an impression on me. Among the observers to the Congress were two Tibetan monks who rePr, ds.ehted thee Dalai Lama. They were Lama Sherpa Tulku and Lama Samdong Tulku. The one word that ke'eps coming to my mind to describe them is "genuine." I was struck by their authenticity, their trueness to them-selves, their utter lack of pretense. They went about with serene dignity, quiet friendliness~ and unfailing self-mast6ry. They talked with perfect frankness about the problems of their people in exile with feeling but with-out the slightest rancor againsl~ the invading Chinese. And with disarming simplicity, one of them asked in our small group discussions: "Please ex-plain to us what you mean by a personal God." The theological jar~gon did not seem to satisfy them, so during the coffee break I ventured an explana-tion which ran something like this: "Lama Sherpa, do you sometimes talk to the Absolute Reality?" 275 276 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 "Yes," he replied. "Do you think he understands you?" "Yes." "Well, that is more or less what we mean when we say that God is a person." He seemed to be more satisfied with this explanation. The lamas had a way of expressing their ideas in an unusually effective way. During the discussion on prayer Lama Samdong Tulku made the following remark: "I.got the impression that when you pray, you send your words to the Absolute Reality. We, we push ourselves to It." Another personality which, for me, stood out, was Abbot Primate Rem-bert Weakland himself. He was a most excellent presiding officer; more-over, his introductory and concluding talks showed his keen intelligence, his versatile scholarship, and his sobriety of judgment. He was most human. He joked with the seminarians of the Kristu Jyoti College where we stayed as though he were one of them but without losing his dignity. In fact I ob-served in him something I seldom observe in many superiors today--an unembarrassdd awareness of his authority and an unapologetic reference to it when he considered it useful to do so. Among the non-Asians who had adopted the Eastern way of monastic life, the one I considered most credible was Father Bede Griffiths. He went about in a most unobtrusive, unostentatious way without the slightest effort to edify or to preach. I find this significant because I felt that there can be a tendency among non-Asians who have insights about the indigenization of monastic life and liturgy which are in themselves authentic, to be over-zealous and therefore tactless in their efforts to conscienticize the people whose culture they have studied and adopted. I believe that there can be a very naive, uncritical adaptation to indigenous culture which, if cohpled with a lack of delicacy in strategy, could alienate the people because it ap-pears to them to be another and a subtler form of paternalism. When this is further accompanied by efforts to edify, then the people are positively repelled. Then one provokes reactions which may sound extreme and de-fensive, but are not wholly unjustified like: "Why do they give themselves to be more Eastern than the Easterns?" The adaptation of the Eastern forms of monasticism by monks and nuns in Asia is an important venture; but this must be undertaken with utmost delicacy, tactful strategy, and with what perhaps for Westerners will amount to an almost intolerable amount of patience. I was enriched by the friendship with Vietnamese monks and nuns who shared with me their spiritual adventures. They have left their b!g monas-teries in the hillsides and have come to live among the poor in the center of the city of Saigon. The nuns take in laundry and typing work to support themselves and the monks take turns in tricycle driving. Reflections on Bangalore / 277 The Theme of the Congress The theme of the Congress was: "The Experience of God." This was divided into subtopics .such as: Monastic Experience of God in Christianity and Other Religions; The Experience of God: Methods of Realization; The Experience of God in Community Life; The Influence of Asiatic Religious on Monastic Structure; The Experience of God and Social Responsibility; and The Contribution of Christian Monasticism of Asia to the Universal Church. These were discussed in small groups as well as in the general assemblies. Again I will not make an effort to summarize the discussions but rather pick out those which had an impact on me. First of all, I regained my respect for the word "monastic." Due to certain historical factors, the word "monastic" in certain circles had come to mean deportment, a pattern of behavior and a fuga mundi attitude. In the Congress, the main emphasis was on the single-minded search for God. There is a monastic dimension to every human being. For those who have come to an awareness orbit and who wish to fulfill this dimension of their being, there should be monastic communities whose structures are flexible enough to share their way of life even on a temporary basis. At this point, it is good to mention.what Bishop D'Souza expressed as the petition of the Indian hierarchy. The Indian hierarchy, he said, is asking the monastic communities to be: 1. eschatological signs (monks and nuns should primarily be men and women of God) 2. centers of liturgy 3. havens of serenity 4. examples Of simplicity of life and refinement 5. model communities for Christian living 6. houses of undiscriminating hospitality One thing that was realized in the Congress was the contribution that the non-Christian form of monasticism can give to the traditional Christian monastic" life. There are several elements of the Eastern form of monasti-cism which have been forgotten or not emphasized enough in the Western tradition. There is, for example, the importance of the techniques and meth-ods in the search for the Absolute. The role of the body in prayer that is very much emphasized in Yoga and Zen could'be given the same impor-tance by Christian monks and nuns. The existential view of the Absolute and the unified view of reality of the East could balance the more con-ceptual and dualistic view of the West. The importance of the guru in Eastern spirituality can likewise revitalize the role of the spiritual director. Father Raymond Pannikar summarizes the unique role of the East thus: "Just as Africa's contribution to the Church is sensitivity to creation and that of the West,. the discovery of the value of history; so the unique con-tribution of the Asian is to develop the dimension o] the spirit." 278 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 Shared Prayer The Congress was not just a series of intellectual discugsions on the experience of God: It was for many participants something of a spiritual experience in itself. Contributing tO these was, first, the shared liturgy which the different regional groups prepared, giving the ~vhole community an ex-perience of a variety of. indigenous liturgy "Indian, Vietnamese, Korean, Chinese. There were likewise opportunities to meditate in the, Zen' way, the Yoga way, the Tibetan Buddhist way, and in Christian shared prayers. Amid the variety of methods, ceremonies, symbols, °and gestures there was the unity of hearts in worship.~And then there were the interpersonal en-counters which occasioned the sharing of spiritual experiences, the creating oLbonds which gave the promise of lasting friendships.~There was thus the wonder of discovery of the other in each other. There were no resolutions, conclusions, or statements at the end of the Congress. As Father Abbot Primate said, Bangalore was more humble in its tone than the Bangkok Congress. Its open-endedness is a challenge to further reflection and to further action. And this challenge was expressed in the delegates' message to their communities which reads as follows: Message to Our Communities Together with Father Abbot Primate, Rembert Weakland, we, , gathered here at Bangalore for the Second Asian Monastic Congress, salute you with an Indian greeting:which echoes in our liturgy, SHANTI, PEACEF ,~ We would like to share with you the atmosphere of joy, openness and fraternity that prevails in this community, which grow out of peoples of dif-ferent backgrounds, not only of race and culture, but also of religious tradi-tion. We are fortunate to have at our meeting Cl~ri~tia'n monks and sisters of various countries, Tibetan lamas, Buddhist and Jain mdnks and Hindu swamis and sanyasis. We lived together, 'praying and discussing in mutual enrichment. We are amazed to realize that, amid very real differences of opinions and experiences, there is an overwhelming convergence of concern: THE SINGLEMINDED SEARCH FOR GOD. It is in this conce.rn ~that we experience a strong bond of unity. We consider it our task as monks to commit ourselves wholehea.rtedly to this search, and it is in this context that we accept the world around us and feel h sense o.f sol!darity with it. We have a role in bt~iiding up the city of man. This consigts in pointing out to man the path to God. In particular, we are to share with the poor in theii-°striving for human dignity and liberty. It has become clear to us that to realise these goals i.n our times calls for a radical openness.and flexibility in our religious life and structures. We are in a moment of challenge. If we fail to respond, we lose our right to exigt as monasteries. Your delegates will bring home to:you reports of the proceedihgs of the Congress. Understandably, these will kive but a glimpse into what really happened here. But, for many of us, this Congress has been a: real spiritual experience. ,.Your delegates can communicate this experience more effectively than any written .report. It is our earnest prayer that all the communities scattered throughout Asia will put into effect the insights gained during this Congress. Tliis may mean breaking away from fixed patterns, settink out like Abraham ihto ff new land. Reflecffon~ on Bangalore / 279 We strongly recommend openness to our brothers of other religious traditions who, as we have experienced here, have so much to offer us. We urge the rethinking of our way of life so that as many people as possible may have the opportunity of sharing with us our experience of God within the content of living and vital communities. Let us maintain the bonds of unity which have been established among us through our delegates. During these days we have thought of you and prayed for you. May our continued unity in prayer be fostered by renewed contacts with one another. Toward a More Authentic Sharing in Community Laurent Boisvert, O.F.M. Father Laurent Boisvert, O.F.M., is the editor of the excellent Canadian magazine for religious, La vie des corntnunaut~s religieuses and lives at 5750, boulevard Rose-mont; Montreal 410, Quebec; Canada. The article originally appeared in the March 1973 issue of La vie des communaut~s religieuses and is printed in translation here with the authorization of that magazine. The translation was made by Sister Clarisse Marie, S.N.J.M.; General Administration of the Sisters of the Holy Names of Jesus and Mary; 187 Chemin de Cap-St.-Jacques; Pierrefonds 940, P.Q.; Canada. The sharing of material goods, based on the needs of each individual or moral person, tends to express and intensify the fraternal bond which unites us as religious. However, in everyday living this sharing meets with ob-stacles which compromise, in varying degrees, its fraternal character. A review of them will help us to become more conscious of them and so favor, I hope, the building of that community of justice, peace, and love which all of us desire and which alone can tnaly be called "fraternal." It is not rare to hear religious ask themselves: How does it happen that our lives are so little changed by the many conferences, sessions, and work-shops in which we participate? These same religious insist that we present them not so much the fundamental values of religious life which they say they already know, but rather a way of integrating them into their lives. The reflections which follow relate to this first step: the "how" of living a more genuine fraternal community life, a step which consists in over-coming in oneself the chief obstacles to its realization. False Mental Attitudes When we insist, before community groups, that a distribution of goods 2110 Authentic Sharing in Community / 2111 be made according to the needs of each, some religious express amazement. It seems useless to them that we should come back to so fundamental an issue, and one that everyone accepts. No one can deny, however, that in spite .of acceptance in theory, certain religio.us, and a number sufficiently large to warrant the mentioning of it again, demand for themselves the use of all kinds of things, basing these requests, not on real need, but rather on the fact that other religious have and enjoy the use of. them. If someone has such and such a thing for his work, goes out so many times during the week, or wears clothing of such and such a quality, etc., others use the example of such religious to justify having the same things and acting in like manner. If one group needs two cars, another group made up of the same number of people will perhaps demand one, just because the first group has two, How can we explain this dichotomy between the theory of sharing goods according to need, and the contrary practice illustrated by the examples just given? The reason is, it seems to me, that the criterion for the distribution of goods, recognized at the intellectual level, has not yet penetrated the mentality of all religious nor modified their attitudes and their conduct. Certain religious accept the idea of pluralism in the forms of sharing, but their reactions are those of people accustomed to a uniform type of sharing. They still lack that which, for all of us, is most difficult to realize, namely a change of attitude. No modification of structures, how-ever radical, can dispense a religious from the effort required to bring.about this conversion. It is easier and faster to set up pluralistic structures for sharing than it is to transform a person accustomed to uniformity so that he becomes capable of understanding, of respecting and of favoring diversity on the level of persons and their needs, and of making the necessary applications. All of which helps us to understand that if, in our congregations, the adaptation of structures has in large measure been accomplished, the con-version of our ways of thinking has not. Some years of effort will still be necessary, years of patience and of tolerance, before the transformation of mental attitudes and of conduct becomes a reality. In spite of everything, some people will never know such a transformation, because they believe that such a change is an evil and not a benefit to be pursued. Charity re-quires that we respect them, and that we learn to live with them, in the wis-dom and great-heartedness of compromise which, under its° positive forms, is love. Inability to Estimate One's Needs Accurately It is not sufficient to want to share a community of goods according to the real needs of each one. For the actual realization of this principle one must be able to evaluate tfiese needs honestly and accurately. Some religious are more or less incapable of making such an evaluation. For some, the reason lies in the formation they received as young religious and the long 2112 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 practice of a poverty based on dependence. They had only to ask and to leave ,to ,authority to judge the legitimacy of their request. Once the su-perior had given an affirmative answer, they never questioned themselves again about their use of the things granted. -This dependence,, judged in our day excessive, has atrophied the sense of responsibility"of some and made them quite unable to determine their own needs: Today, when au-thority leaves them free to choose such and such a thing,, to do or not do such and such an. action, to go or not to go to such and such a place, they prefer no action at all rather then assume responsibility for it. Long and difficult will be,the liberating process which will one day enable them to judge their own needs, if~ such will ever be possible. ~ C-Certain religious, coming from poor families and having, lacked some of the basic necessities during their childhood, make up,for lost time and accumulate without reason a surplus of goods. They:even admit that they ask for things to make up for the lack of them experienced in the past.And so they fill their closets with items.for, which they have,no real need, but which give them a sort of psychological security. In this Way they com-pensate for the time when they sutIeredreal want. ~ ,, For other religious, the practice of a poverty consisting of going with-out, of detailed restriction for use; of meticulous control and uniformity, has brought ab6ut another ,excessive reaction in that they,are constantly asking .for things they don't really need and of which they never .seem to have enough. At the other extreme are those who considered this former practice of poverty the ideal one, and so refuse to accept any form of com-munal sharing based on a pluralism of real needs. Using False Criteria Again, for some religious, the relative incapacity of identifying their real needs results from the use of false criteria. They will say, in, order to justify a trip: all my brothers and,sisters went to such aoplace, though an-other might say~ with just as much truth: I cannot make that .trip since none of my brothers and sisters have ever been there. Can the single fact :that one's relatives have visited Europe constitute a ,valid reason for asking for a trip overseas? Or again, can the simple fact that one's parents have never taken:~some scenic trip within the province or state:~be sufficient reason for denying oneself ,such an outing? In both cases, the use .of the "family" norm, instead of helping, hinders the discovery of real needs. That one consider the situation of one's family is certainly not wrong, but to use it as the sole means of defining orie's Own needs and the ~type of relaxation one has a right to seek is certainly without justification. These .conclusions apply .likewise .to one's social and professional posi-tion. There are people who count on the life style of ~this double milieu to determine personal needs. If they: live inca neighborhood where~each family averages one or two color-television~, sets, a summer cottage', a snowmobile Authentic Sharing in Community / 2113 or~ two, etc., they think that they too have a right to these same things and wi!l use them, under the illusion that they are living their commitment to po~verty.,lf th~ey work in the.~schools or hospitals and if the majority~of their companions go to Florida every year, wear a new outfit every day, etc., they come to believe that such is Lequired of them too, and in their minds these things become necessities that must be satisfied. The fallacy .of such ~rea.soning comes,from the setting up of one's .social or professional sur-roundings as an absolute ~in determining personal needs. It ought to be evi-dent that even if all the teachers of the school have a car, and if all the families in the area have two television sets, I do not necessarily need the same things. It also ha.ppens that this met.hod of evaluating needs ac.cord-ing to a social or professi0nal milieu soon involves various forms of dis-crimination, ail.harmf.ul to .the ,building of a fraternal community. Let us add that economy, valid as it may be, often prejudices one?s judgment of personal needs. To know how to economize is a quality that most people of average means acquire through° force of circumstances, That religious should possess, it is nother surprising nor embarrassing.;Waste-fulness and .extravagance, as well as carelessness, have always been,.con-sidered faults. The error, in the case of the religious, is to purchase things, not because ~one may need them, but because they are on sale and that per-haps one day they will be useful. It is also true that this intention of econo-mizing has a way of multiplying needs. The Influence of Numbers ,, In visiting a number of local commu~nities I ~have ~liscovered that re-ligious in small groups have their real needs satisfied much more easily than do religious in.larger gr.oups: Although not universal, this situation is repre-sentativ, e of a number of congregations. Of course, there are many cases in which it is reasonable and necessary ¯ to take numbers, into consideration. For example, if the local authority in a community of one hundred persons is planning an outing which includes transportation and lunch~ it is obvious that one must consider the number of those who wish to participate. The influence of numbers can, however, become harmful to community sharing when., a particular type .of logic prevails as sometimes happens in larg~ groups, though it. may also be found in more restricted ones, too. For example, two or three religious.desire to obtain skis in order to satisfy.a real need for relaxation, so they go to the local authority with their req.uest only to receive this answer: I cannot authorize such an expenditure; just think of the money involved if the sixty religious of the house were to come asking for skis! This reasoning characterizes a mentality which cerl~ainly is not pluralistic ,'and which fails to respect personal needs. That two or three religious desire some skis in no way implies that all the others need or even wish them. The falseness of this reasoning is even more evident Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 when we realize that the community is made up for the most part of older people or of those who are ill. On pushing this kind of logic to the extreme, one ought to refuse a wheelchair to a sick person who really needs one because everyone else might want one too. This type of reasoning may also exist among some members of the community group. They refrain from asking for what they really need be-cause they say: If everybody were to ask for such a thing, the community could not afford it. However, it is nowhere written that all the religious of a house must have the same needs at the same time, and that to satisfy them one must buy sixty canes or sixty wigs at the same time! Why, then, should we suppose this uniformity and always act in view of the total num-ber? Wherever this kind of logic dominates, whether on the part of the superior or of the members of the group matters little, it makes impossible the practice of community sharing according to need. The Moral Weight of Salaries The religious earning a high salary seems to have a special facility for getting what he needs and often more than he needs, while the one who makes no financial contribution is sometimes too embarrassed to make known real needs. Other variants of this phenomenon are these: The re-ligious in a salaried service who works overtime may think it his right to keep and to use as he pleases at least a part of the extra money so earned; the one who has won a grant or money award will not fail to exploit his chance of obtaining favors; the religious who receives an "old-age pension" and the one who regularly draws some form of income may also use these to obtain personal advantages. The moral weight of money earned by a religious' likewise risks in-fluencing the decisions of the superior. Does he feel as free and no more obligated in evaluating the requests of the one who hands in a substantial check than he does in judging those requests made by members who make no such contribution? It would not be surprising if, in the first case, he finds a particular facility in saying "yes" at once and with a smile, while in the second case, he has a tendency to ask questions about the necessity of the items requested and to multiply his reflections on the observance of poverty. In allowing a lapse of time between turning in one's check and making a request for what one judges useful or necessary, the religious can help those in authority to avoid showing favor and granting to him as to the others only what he really needs. At the provincial level we occasionally see this tendency in operation in those cases in which authority tends to discriminate between local groups of varying incomes. Groups with significant revenues sometimes receive more easily the authorization for extra expenditures than another poorer group, though the actual needs of the two groups may be identical. If such is the case, it is evident that discrimination is practiced in dealing with local Authentic Sharing in Community / 285 groups, a situation very detrimental in the realization of a truly fraternal community. The Matter o~ Gi~ts It also happens that the reception of gifts sometimes prevents sharing according to need. The religious, benefiting from the generosity of family or friends, is often better provided for than the one who must depend solely on the community. In order to justify the keeping or the use of things received, the religious reasons that he got them gratuitously when he ought rather to be motivated by real need. If our poverty permits us to accept gifts, they must nevertheless be used for all without discrimina-tion. This means that the religious may not have more because he receives more, but that all needs be judged by the same standard and that all be treated in the same manner. Whether the .goods to satisfy our needs comes from within or from outside the community is of lesser consequence. Two other observations must be made here in regard to gifts. Certain religious still declare that the refusal of anything offered to them by their parents, friends, or others, always constitutes a failure against poverty, indeed an injustice to the congregation. As it stands, this statement is inaccurate. The refusal of certain goods offered is sometimes required by our commitment to poverty. Such is the case when an individual or moral person does not need that which is offered, and in addition, the donor re-fuses any transfer of his gift. Such is likewise the case when, in response to a real need, a religious is offered something which can in no way be justified by the norms of simplicity. The second observation bears on the "intention of the donor." The intention clearly expressed by the donor does not suppress or replace the authorization required for the keeping and the use of goods. A religious cannot go to Europe simply because his parents have given him~the money for the trip. If competent authority refuses him" the permission and if the intention of the parents about the destination of their gift remains fixed, there is nothing left for the religious to do but to refuse or to return the money. However, in the majority of cases, it is not necessary to be scrupulous about respecting the intention of the donor. Many people offer us small gifts (the notion of "small" varies considerably, of course) and say to us: This is for you, for your personal needs, clothing, recreation, etc. If we took the time to explain our way of life to them as a community sharing a common fund, they would probably be quite happy to allow one of our companions to benefit from their generosity.Though we rarely explain this to them, we can ordinarily, without any qualms of conscience, pre-sume their understanding acceptance and put in the common fund what-ever we receive. 2116 / Revie.w for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 On the contrary, the intention of the °donor must be respected when the gift is made in the form of an inheritance or legacy. Let us make clear, however, that the religious to whom these goods have been offered alway~ has the right to refuse them. He even has the duty to do so in a case in which the, acceptance of an inheritance or legacy, involves obligations ~otaily or partially in violation of his religious 9ommitments. We must also understand that. authority does sometimes have a word to say in our ac-ceptance or refusal of such goods. The Moral Weight of Competence, Position, and Conduct In this matter of sharing, the professional status of religious some-times operates in his favor. Experience shows that in certain cases the religious~ ,possessing special qualifications obtains what he needs more easily than does his confrere who lacks such competence; he may even receive a ~urplu~ while the other is deprived of basic necessities. We have no intention of condemning competence; but under pain of closing our eyes to reality, we must acknowledge that this competence does sometimes exercise a moral influence on those presenting their needs, inclining them to ask for more than they really need. It may also influence those whose role is to insure .a just distribution of material resources in their application of the principle of real need. Experience0shows us that a past office may become another pretext for keeping and us_ing certain goods. The religious whose work required a specialized library, for example, may have a strong inclina.tion to keep it even after he no longer occupies the position which once required it. The one who needed a car for his work will be tempted to continue to keep it even after he is transferred to another office which in no way requires its use. Certain personal itnd marginal benefits connected with having a car make it very .painful for him to give it up. Again it may happen that one's present position Fay serve as an oc-casion for the granting or obtaining.of favors either for self or for others. Thus a superior, as soon as he is named,.,may ask for a ~'oom with a bath attached. Is this to help him fulfill his office"moi'e efffctively? Is such an installation really needed for his work? If not, how can he justify requesting it for himself while refusing it to others. It is no more justifiabl~ for a superior to use the pretext of his office to receive and to keep as long as he wishes all the magazines that come to the house. How can one approve such action? If he were in charge of formation and if, with the consent of the community or of authority, he had a prior right or even exclusive right to the use of a magazine published for formation personnel, nobody would complain. But no one can accept, and with reason, that an individual in virtue of his office, keep for himself as long as he likes the newspapers and magazines :meant for the use of all. Such practice is an obstacle to fraternal sharing. The one whose function Authentic Sharing in Community is to build community ought to be the first to ~remove from his own life anything that might compromise it. Let me add as a last moral influence a particular type of conduct in which a few religious indulge when making a request to authority. Their tone, gestures, and manner in general can be so high-handed that it be-comes almost impossible for the superior to refuse, even when he judges superfluous the object requested. When dealing with such persons he per-haps says to himself: It is easier to grant them what they want at once than to put up with the endless scenes and references to the matter that they will make if it is denied them. The superior may even justify his action by saying that he consented in "order to avoid a greater evil. All the same, that will not prevent those in the community from believing that at times a dif-ficult disposition does get results. While we understand the delicate posi-tion of authority in these instances, we must also recognize that such con-duct on the part of a member of the group can be an obstacle to fraternal sharing as it prevents the application of the principle: each according to need. The Influence of Social Convention According to current styles and in varying degrees, social convention may also influence both the religious in determining his needs, and the su-perior whose role is to assure that fraternal dimension of communal shar-ing proper to a religious household. Ordinarily we find it easier to ask for those things~ accepted by social convention than for those outside it. The superior in turn has a tendency to authorize more quickly those things it approves than those which are indifferent or contrary, to it. In this way social convention sometimes exerts a destructive influence on the charitable quality which ought to characterize our sharing from a common fund ac-cording to individual needs. . In considering the influence of social convention on religious, it cer-tainly explains at least in. part their attitude toward smoking, for example. The religious who smokes normally receives the necessary tobacco even though the expense occasioned ma~, be as high as two or three hundred dollars a year. The need to smoke, createdand developed by him, no longer requires critical evaluation but is taken for granted; and when the com-munity budget is prepared, there is no hesitation about'setting aside im-portant sums for it. ~ : It is not at all,certain, on the other h~nd, that the philatelist would so easily be allotted a similar sum for the purchas.e of new stamps. How does it happen that we consent so easily to satisfy the needs of the one who smokes but refuse those of the stamp collector? The pressure of social con-vention would seem to be the exp!anation. Under pain of being considered out of step with the times, religious cannot ignore social convention completelyi but by conforming to it with- 2811 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 out discrimination they can create needs the satisfaction of which amounts to real slavery and causes surprise and even scandal to others. Religious ought to be free enough, for example, in the matter of dress to avoid mak-ing an absolute of an outmoded costume and to consider relative those fashions which social convention seeks to impose on them everyday. This relativity can be expressed in one's choice of classic styles, simple and few in number, and much less subject to frequent and costly change than those passing fads which are here today and forgotten tomorrow. If it is normal for religious to be aware of social usage and to observe it when in their exterior relations they judge it necessary or useful, they must make the necessary effort to prevent it from entering so deeply into their lives as to create an endless chain of new needs. Let it suffice to men-tion the use of alcoholic drinks. Rare are those social functions, meals, and evenings from Which these are absent. If the religious is not on his guard, in multiplying his social relationships, he risks developing an acute need for alcohol. In this case, satisfaction can never be regarded as liberation, but rather a most insidious form of personal slavery. A Lack of Empathy Lack of empathy is particularly noticeable on those occasions when a religious must submit to a superior or to other members of his group his personal needs in view of an evaluation or control. It may happen that one's first reaction is to make comparisons with one's own needs, forgetting that each one is unique and therefore different; And so the superior says: I don't understand why you want to buy this secular outfit; I don'~ wear one and I've never suffered from not doing so. Or again: I never went to hear such and such a singer; I don't see what advantage you can get out of an evening so spent. Such a person never tries to put himself in the position of the one asking in order to be better able to understand his needs. He seeks rather to impose his own values on the other person or again to convince him that he does not have such a need because as superior he himself never experienced it. Without exactly realizing it, the superior may set himself up as a sort of prototype whom the others would profit by imitating. In following this sort of logic, ought he not require others to be hungry at the same time he is and with the same intensity, to be sleepy when he is, and to require the same number of hours of sleep? People incapable of this empathy are quite unable to evaluate the needs of others. We might as well say at the same time that they do not know how to exercise the service of authority, since they will never be able to understand those whom they are supposed to help. They may think they understand others, but as a matter of fact they understand only that which they can project on others. In general the person with little empathy is intolerant, not through ill will, but through his inability to put himself Authentic Sharing in Community / 2119 in the position of others. In wishing them well, he may even impose on them things that may cause them serious harm. Exclusive or Prior Right to Use The use of certain equipment may be necessary for a religious in the fulfillment of his office. It is considered essential for his work and he could not give it up without compromising the task confided to him. Such usage is valid and his confreres readily accept his use of what is neces-sary; but if they see that he has reserved for his exclusive use things for which he has no real need, at least at certain times, feelings of discontent-ment and a sense of injustice are not slow in surfacing. An example will help to make my point clear. Let us suppose that my work requires the use of a car quite regularly. On the days when I don't have to make any trips, those times when I travel by plane, am I going to lock up the car when I could just as well let others use it? If I put the car in the garage and the keys in my pocket, and if I force my com-panions to take the bus for their trips when the use of a car would be much appreciated and a real convenience for them, can I say sincerely that I am living the principle of fraternal sharing? In order to justify my conduct, I can no doubt find many reasons: A car is something one doesn't lend to just anybody; I must keep the things I need for my work in good condition; no one knows how to take care of them as I do; it is often a costly business to lend one's equipment; thb community has other cars for general use; etc. Underneath these reasons, all of which contain some element of truth, there is perhaps another which I won't admit: an undue attachment which makes me a slave of this thing. Deep down I prefer its safekeeping to communion with my brothers. In fact, my refusal to put the car at their disposition, far from favoring inter-personal relations, risks destroying them altogether and setting up barriers which are difficult to break down. If, after such conduct, I dare to repeat that goods should be oriented toward the well-being of the group and the strengthening of mutual relations, I must admit that in practice I sub-ordinate persons to things. If in my work, instead of this exclusive right to the use of equipment, I exercise what may be called a prior right to its use, I will quickly come to realize to what degree this type of use and the mentality which it de-velops favor fraternal union. Nobody denies that there are certain incon-veniences in this kind of sharing, that one risks finding one's things out of order, not in the same condition as one left them, etc. However, be-fore committing myself to sharing, ought I wait until no such risks are involved? If so, I mi~ght just as well say categorically that I refuse to share. Of course, everyone recognizes the existence of an occasional case when it would be better to keep one's tools exclusively for personal use. Such exceptions, however, do not modify the general rule according to 290 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 which the religious ought to exercise a prior right rather than an exclusive one to the use of those things necessary for the accomplishment of his duties. The first recognizes and favors fraternal sharing, while the second usually cuts it off abruptly. The Proprietor's Mentality Every religious making use of community goods can say, and he has reason: This property belongs to me; it has been put at my disposition by a moral person called the "province" or "institute." He may be inclined per-haps, in ~order to justify his poverty before those who do not believe in it anymore, to exaggerate the inconveniences of such a situation and to keep silent about the advantages which it affords. Sometimes he will even cover up his possessive attitude with regard to certain things saying that they do not belong to him and therefore he cannot lend them. Under pain of deny-ing the evidence, we must admit that some religious seem to have a pro-prietor's mentality with regard to goods belonging to the province or in-stitute. Such a mentality is an obstacle to fraternal sharing. If, in order to illustrate my idea, I use the community treasurer as an example, it is not that this mentality is more widespread among them than among other religious, but because frequent reference is made to them when this topic is discussed. In fact, it often happens that the treasurer acts as if he were the proprietor of the community's goods. He feels free to ask ques-tions, even indiscreet ones, about the sums of money requested, while actu-ally it is his business simply to hand over what has been authorized. He scolds others for expenditures which he has no right to judge. He may even insist on an itemized account which normally is given to the superior. When he gives out money, his gesture is marked by a pained expression as if part-ing with it hurt him physicallly. If we describe it at its worst, we might say that in keeping the purse-strings, he seems to keep the whole community on a,.leash. This caricature, although rough!y drawn, is not entirely the fruit of the imagination. If I have exaggerated some situations, I have reproduced others with an accuracy that no one can deny. It is not surprising if religious, subjected to caprices of this kind, no longer dare ask the community even for what is necessary, but arrange to obtain it outside, or keep a part of their salary or gifts received, in order to satisfy their needs. The changing of the name "procurator" to "economist," "treasurer," "controller," or whatever, does not remedy the evil. The real problem is not one of vocabulary, but of one's way of thinking, and it is this that must be changed. The bursar must recognize, in theory and in practice, that the property confided to his administration belongs to the community., that his task consists in managing it with competence, and in distributing it amiably to religious whose needs have been approved by authority. His office must not be the scene of daily contention, but rather a place where love operates under the guise of both gift and welcome. Authentic Sharing in Commitnity / Let me express sincere appreciation to all those religious who fill their post as treasurer with competency, interior detachment, and in a spirit of service. Everyone knows that theirs is often a thankless task, and one we could not do without. In accomplishing it with that joy and tact which love knows how to exercise, they can do much towards the realization of the ideal of fraternal sharing according to the real needs of each one. Fear, Embarrassment, Shame, Scruples in Regard to Asking Strange as it may appear, there are still some religious who are unable to express their real needs, who prefer to deprive themselves of what they need rather than ask for it. These religious, either by temperament or for-mation, have developed in themselves a fear, an embarrassment, shame, or even scruples about asking. Among them are those who are not earning, and on this account dare not mention their needs. Some of them think of themselves as a burden to the community. While helping these religious to free themselves from whatever prevents them" from asking for what they need, authority must take the initiative, offering them and even giving them whatever they may need. If this is considered an exaggeration, it is better to fail on the side of kindness and attention than on that of indifference and privation. It is always easier to notice the people who abuse than those whom we abuse. There also exists on the part of some a certain shame and embarrass-ment about asking which may be the result of our manner of community living and sharing in the past. I understand the uneasiness of those of thirty, forty, fifty, and more who still ask local authority or the treasurer for stamps, letter-paper, tooth-paste, soap, etc., but such a practice of com, munity sharing can no longer be justified in the name of poverty. Though long since outmoded, it has not yet totally disappeared. In my opinion it would be so much simpler, so much more adult and reas6nable, to put all these things for common use in a place where each one could take what he needs as he needs it. It is useless to complain of possible abuse in order to refuse such an elementary practice. The existence of such abuse is inevitable, whatever the manner of living the principle of common sharing. Would it not be better that the abuses accompany an adult practice of sharing instead of a childish and embarrassing one? In conclusion on this point let me say that one of the gravest abuses of the practice of religious poverty is that form of dependence which encourages and even develops personal irresponsi-bility. The Application of Various Formulas for Sharing Though there are several formulas for the sharing of go~ds, I do not in-tend here to present the advantages and inconveniences of each. I wish only to point out that the manner of applying any valid formula is able to trans-form it into an obstacle to fraternal sharing. Take for example the individual 292 / Review ]or Religious, F'olume 33, 1974/2 budget. It is, for religious in general, a practical manner for determining needs and when approved, of receiving whatever is necessary to meet them. This does not mean, however, that such a formula is best for all the religious of an institute, or of a province, or of a local community. There are some people who find a personal budget more of a useless bother than a help in practicing religious poverty. Why impose it on them then? On the other hand, why forbid it to the rest of the community just because some do not find it helpful? In ~. word, fraternal sharing is not free when the individual budget is refused or imposed on all alike. In those communities in which, in order to respect personal needs, the community budget is made obligatory and the individual budget optional, uniformity may compromise the quality of fraternal sharing. As regards the community budget it is rare, thanks be to God, to hear people use the argu-ment of uniformity to obtain more, to grant or to refuse permission. Wherever uniformity is the sole criterion for making requests or granting authorization, fraternal charity in the treatment of local groups is often ignored. Though two communities may be made up of the same number of persons, it does not follow that the needs of one be identical to the needs of the other. To respect each group in its uniqueness requires ordinarily both diversity and plurality in the manner of treatment. It is the same for individuals. How can anyone justify uniformity in the amount of money granted annually to religious who make use of a budget? Let us take the matter of clothing, for example. The one who is small and well-built will surely have an advantage over another less well-proportioned, with bulges here and there, not to mention fiat feet! Some would remedy this situation by asking that the first person hand in what he has left over, and that the second ask for what he still needs. However, one must admit that the latter remains in an awkward position as it is always harder to ex-tend the hand to receive than to turn in a surplus. In the end, would it not be simpler and more charitable to leave each one free to evaluate his cloth-ing needs and to ask for the money necessary to take care of them. The individual budget plan by which a uniform lump sum is given to all religious also presents, in actual practice, certain facets detrimental to fraternal sharing. Let us suppose that each religious of a local community receives $2500 annually, and that it is left to him to allocate this sum as he sees fit. Such procedure risks creating unjustifiable inequality. Religious whose parents live a few miles away will spend very little to goto see them regularly, while another having parents living at a distance, can visit them only rarely and under pain of seriously jeopardizing his budget. Isn't this a form of discrimination? Another weakness inherent in this plan is that the religious who can economize will manage to procure all sorts of valuable objects (record-play-ers, tape-recorders, etc.) and will have the clear impression, even the con- Authentic Sharing in Community / 293 viction, that these belong to h, im. Of course, he will feel free to take them with him on changing residenc~. As a last obstacle to fraternal sharing, let me add the refusal a priori of approving several different plains and allowing them to be used within the local community as the memlSers judge best. One would respect individual needs more surely if some wer~ permitted to use an individual budget, while others were given an allowan+e for expenses, and still others received the money necessary as the need arose. There are some very deserving religious who do not have any use for a~ individual budget or for a regular allowance and who desire to continue to~ practice poverty by asking for things as they need them. We violate the fraternal quality of our sharing if we impose on them a plan which burdens rather than frees them in their service of God. Conclusion The practice of fraternal sfiaring to which we are bound bestows on our I . community of goods its evangehcal and religious significance. Indeed, it is in order to strengthen the fraiernal bond which unites us and to express it before the world that we have chosen to put all our possessions into a com-mon fund, and to share them according to the real needs of each one. The obstacles that this sharing mebts in practice prove that it is difficult for all of us, because of our sinful condition, to observe perfectly that which we desire with all our hearts. However, the rehg~ous who recognizes the diffi-culties and makes an effort to leliminate them from his life, demonstrates his faith in those values for whic~ the fraternal community stands and his de-sire to collaborate construct~ve, ly in building it, depending on the support of Jesus Christ, thecenter of oui" lives, for a more perfect realization of it. The General Chapter of Affairs Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., a specialist !n canon law for religious, writes from St. Joseph'.s Church: 321 Willing's Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. Pre-chapter Preparation : Pre-chapter preparation, despite its evident need, was almost univer-sally unknown before post-Vatican II general and provincial chapters. The delegates'to the general chapter should be elected hbout a year before the assehably of the chapter. This will make it possible to have the pre-chapter committees constituted predominantly of chapter members from the begin-ning. The superior general and his council, or a committee appointed by him, could have already inaugurated the work by securing the proposals from the members of the institute and having them arranged according to subject matter. These could be given almost immediately to the pre-chapter committees. The delegates may be elected earlier than a date determined in the constitutions, e.g., six months before the assembly of the chapter. This determination of time is a very accidental aspect of the law, and a rea-sonable cause excuses from it. The more fundamental content of such a law is to elect the delegates at a time that will give the best possible preparation for the chapter. I think myself that a committee of more than five is gener-ally less efficient. If the quantity of the work so demands, several parallel or sub-committees can be designated. As many as possible of those on a com-mittee should be competent in the field of the committee. Each institute should know from its experience of recent chapters and from the problems now facing it just what committees are needed. There should be a steering or co-ordinating committee. Other committees have been on the religious life, vows, constitutions, government, liturgy, formation, apostolate, finances, 294 The General Chapter o] Affairs / 295 retirement, and habit. Canon law has no legislation on committees. There-fore, it depends on the particular institute to determine the committees and their work; the members and chairpersons may be elected or appointed or be designated partially by both election and appointment; the chairpersons may be elected by the members of the particular committee. Manner of Pre-chapter Committee Preparation The one directing the pre-chapter preparation gives the proposals or chapter matter to the chairpersons of the pertinent committees, who in turn distribute them to the individual members of the committees to ~work up, dividing the matter as evenly as possible. Let us suppose that the following proposal has been assigned to an individual of the government committee: the term of office of the superior general should be reduced from six to five (four) years, with only one immediate re-election permitted. The committee member is to work up a report on this proposal in the manner of a secretary, an objective researcher, not as a supporter or antag-onist of the proposal or as a policy maker. The chapter makes the decision on enactments and policy, not the committee. The first thing the committee member does is to write down the number of the proposal, if these are num-bered. Identical and almost identical proposals are to be treated together on the same report. The committee member therefore next notes on the report the number that submitted it, for:example: 36 handed in this proposal for a five and 15 for a four year term. He then expresses the proposal in one statement or in parts but both in such a way as to permit a yes-no discussion and a yes-no decision. He next, under the heading~of sense, gives any ex-planations of the proposal, always being complete throughout the report but as ~clear and brief as possible. Submitted proposals, are almost, always wordier and more obscure than the example given above, but the term "im-mediate" in the example above could be briefly explained. He could well conclude the section on sense by a statement such as the following: The pi'oposal contains two ideas, a five (four) instead o1~ a"six year term andonly one immediate re-election. The heart of his report is in the following sec-tion, in which he gives all~ the reasons for and then all the reasons against the proposal, noting when any of these reasons has greater weight for or against the four than the five year term. He ends the report with his recom-mended decision: to be accepted, to be rejected, to be accepted with modi-fications. It is evident that the reasons for the acceptance or rejection are the favorable or unfavorable reasons he has already listed. He should add his reasons for suggesting modifications. Copies of this report are distributed to all the committee members. They are to be given adequate time for its study. When a sufficient number of reports are ready, they are to be dis-cussed in a committee meeting. The committee confirms, rejects in whole or in part, and corrects the report of the individual member, which thus becomes the committee report. The committee vote on the report and its :296 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 distinct parts should be included on it, e.g., 3 for, 2 against. Reports for all the proposals to be discussed in any period of sessions should be ready be-fore that period begins. These should be distributed to the capitulars at least on their arrival so that they can be properly studied. The failure to have such reports is a primary cause for the many unreflecting, inefficient, and slow general chapters we have had in the post-Vatican II years. Any religious experienced in chapters should see the need of reports of the type described above. They are demanded by evident facts. The primary such fact is that a chapter should make its decisions from convictions based on solid reasons. This will certainly not be attained unless there is a thorough investigation and study of the facts and reasons. It is also a sufficiently evident and most pertinent fact that many of the capitulars will not study the proposals beforehand. The reports will help to lessen their uninformed voting. Many capitulars will not be able to understand some proposals with-out such a report, for example, those who have had no experience in han-dling large sums of money can find financial proposals difficult to understand, and a religious who has not been in the novitiate since he left it thirty years ago will find. many ideas on formation most difficult to grasp. Proposals handed in by chapter members during the chapter should be processed through the pertinent committee in the manner described above. Subject Matter of the General Chapter of Affairs The norm of the practice of the Holy See for this has been the more im-portant matters that concern the entire institute. If the matter is not more important or does not concern the entire institute, it appertains to the ordi-nary government of the general, provincial, or local superiors. In the con-crete this matter has consisted of the proposals submitted by the members, provincial chapters, and the general capitulars during the time of the general chapter. The first observation is that the proposals under one aspect can readily be insufficient. Almost universally the proposals on a particular matter do not touch, at least adequately, all the more important aspects, difficulties, and problems of the particular field. Quite often they are concerned only with its accidental and lesser aspects. Very frequently also the admittance of a proposal will demand as a consequence or antecedently presume another proposal which has not been submitted. In all such cases, the pertinent com-mittee should add the required proposals, noting on each its committee source and the reasons why it was submitted by the committee. It is not very intelligent to have the submitted proposals as the subject matter, with-out designating anyone to point out and supply for the omissions and the lack of balance. In such a system, it can be almost a mere accident that the general chapter faces all the real problems of the institute. There has to be a way of rejecting very expeditiously the proposals that are less important and general or otherwise evidently inadmissible. Each The General Chapter of Affairs / 297 committee should list all such proposals submitted to it, and very early sub-mit this list to the co-ordinating committee. The latter should go over the lists and have them duplicated and distributed to the chapter members. Sufficient time should be granted for the proper study of the lists, and the chapter is then to be asked to reject all of them in the one vote. The per-mitted recourse against rejection should be of the following type. If a capitu-lar, not the one who submitted the proposal as such, believes that any such rejected proposal is worthy of a committee report and chapter discussion, he should hand in this proposal with his reasons for its repeated presenta-tion. The verdict on confirming or rescinding the rejection should not be made by the original rejecting committee but by the co-ordinating com-mittee. This will avoid having the same committee as both judge and de-fendant in the recourse. Greater Reduction of Matter Is Necessary The reduction of the work of the general chapter has to be much greater than the mere immediate rejection of proposals considered less important, less general, or otherwise evidently inadmissible in the past. No general chapter can s.atisfactorily handle a thousand or two thousand proposals. This is true even if the pre-chapter prepa.ration is most thorough and com-plete, The number of proposals that confronted very many post-Vatican II general chapters was prostrating. Nor is it sensible to think of more fre-quent general chapters; we have too many now. Not a great number of them have been religiously effective, and there is nothing in multiplication that augurs greater effectiveness. Perhaps the remedy is to cut down very severely the work of the general chapter to the particular matters that are very highly important and urgent and to give much greater attention to policies than to enactments and changes of enactments and laws in particular matters. Present Mentality Few will now even question the statement that we are faced by a crisis of authority. Pope Paul VI has often spoken~ of this crisis, for example: To mention another: there is the excessive emphasis on the right of the indi-vidual to do as he pleases, which leads to the rejection of any and all limits imposed from without and of any and all authority, however legitimate it may be (May 25, 1968, The Pope Speaks, 13 [1968], 222). In this way a mentality is spread which would like to claim that dis-obedience is legitimate and justified in order to protect the freedom that the sons of God should enjoy (January 29, 1970, ibid., 15 [1970], 54). Since therefore it is a visible society, the Church must necessarily have the power and function of making laws and seeing to it that they are obeyed. The Church's members in turn are obliged in conscience to observe these laws (December 13, 1972, ibid., 17 [1973], 376). This mentality of hostility tO authority and law is one of the very im-portant and urgent matters that a general chapter must face and strive to 2911 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 change, but it is also a fact that makes one question the enactment of many laws at present. Matters Excluded from the Competence of General Chapters Possessing Experimental Authority These chapters obviously cannot change ( 1 ) divine law, whether natural or revealed; (2) and without the previous appro'~al of the Sacred Congrega-tion for Religious and Secular Institutes these chapters may not put into effect anything that is contrary to the common law (canonical prescriptions, laws of Vatican II, and other laws and decrees of the Holy See); nor (3) make any change in the purpose, nature, and characteristics of any institute or in the Rule of an institute (Ecclesiae sanctae, n6. 6). Proposals These are made by the members of the institute and by provincial chap-ters. All are to be encouraged to make proposals; all are equally to be counseled to make only good proposals, and this means good for the entire institute. A proposal is to be judged by its content, but an obscure and un-duly long proposal is a certain indication of insufficient thought. The insuffi-ciency in this: case frequently extends to the content of the proposal. To find l~roposals a religious, should go over the life of the individual members and of,the community immediately with God, the community life, and the life of work. He should go through all pertinent books, e.g., the constitutions. He is to evaluate and to find ways to correct and improve the life of sanc-tity, the apostolate, the present policies and trends of the institute, its public image in the Church and in.general. He should evaluate, all innovations of the post-Vatican II years. Have they succeeded, failed, and in each case to what extent? Have the members of the institute become better religious, better participants in the community life, better apostles? What are the big problems facing the institute today? What is their solution? What is the re-ligious' effectiveness of superiors, their councilors, those in charge of forma-tion, of the works of the al:iOstolate? Is the tenor and style of life in the houses conducive to the religious life, the apostolate, a religiously satisfy-ing community life? Are your proposals solid, progressive without being im-prudent? Do they all propose freedom from something that is difficult and demands sacrifice? Proposals must be signed only and to the extent that this is com-manded by the law of the institute. A final day, well ahead of the opening of the general chapter, must be determined for the handing in of proposals. All, including general capitulars, should hand in their proposals during this tim& The general capitulars retain the right of making proposals during the chapter: Toward the close of the chapter, a date is to be determined be-yond which no proposal will be accepted. All of these provisions are to enable the committees to process the proposals properly and in due time. The General Chapter o/ Affairs / 299. The right to make proposals is determined by the law or practice of the particular institute. Those who do not have this right may suggest proposals, preferably in writing, to ~those who do enjoy the right. The latter may but are .not obliged to accept merely suggested proposals (see Review ]or Re-ligious, 23 [1964], 359-64). Position Papers and Questionnaires These were the high hurdle and wide stream obstacles in the procedure of. so many special general chapters, and few of these chapters landed fully on the opposite bank. Position papers were also at times a means on the part of committees of appropriating to themselves the policy making func-tion of the chapter. Questionnaires were frequently the substitution of a none too reasonable head count for a vote given because of convincing reasons. A background paper or questionnaire is only rarely necessary or advisable, e.g, an intelligent vote, for or against a particular proposal can demand a brief historical description. If so, the background paper should be prepared.~ Authority of the Superior General in Pre-chapter Preparation The superior general, assisted by his council, has authority over the entire pre-chapter preparation. This is evident from the fact that, outside of the general chapter, there is no one else on the general level of authority and from canon 502, which places the institute under his authority (see Ecclesiae sanctae, no. 4). Frequently at least a superior general gives ample delegation to. another religious to direct and supervise this preparation, e.g., to the Chairperson, of the steering or co-ordinating committee. However, the superior general can always lessen or~'withdraw such authority, lie may also always step in to correct and guide particular matters, individuals, or committees. Post-Vatican II general and provinc, ial chapters have often been vanquished in the pre-chapter preparation. The game was lost before it began. The superior general is not arbitrarily to interfere in or hamper the, work of the committees, but he should be completely aware of what is going on in all committees. He should be very sensitive to a too conservative or a too leftist~ approach and, even more practically, ~to a group that is unduly and wrongly influencing the pre-chapter preparation. ' Attaining a:Universal Voice in Chapters Especially since about 1965 we have had a constant clamor that the religious of temporary vows or other commitment be permitted to be dele-gates to the general and provincial chapters. This has been an outstandingly unreal issue of recent years.The clear fact has been that the young were talking in the chapters and pre-chapter preparation. The voice that was not being heard was that of the older and of many middle-aged religious and chapter members. This has been true also in other discussion groups, for example, local community discussions. Our need and problem of the-mo- 300 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 ment is to hear the older and the middle-aged religious. I doubt that this can be attained at this time except by having the chapter discussions start with small discussion groups. Each group should be composed of religious of all ages. This system would demand a sufficiently competent chairperson and secretary in each group, the report by the secretary of the group, and the distribution of copies of the reports of each group and of the composite report of all the groups before the common discussion of the matter in the whole chapter. The attainment of the most accurate and efficient procedure in this matter demands a very thorough study. Discussion groups are a time consuming means. They could be employed only for the more serious mat-ters. My own sincere judgment, based on the observation of chapters, is that such a means is necessary to hear the voice of the older and of many mid-dle- aged religious, especially of sisters. Part of the factual basis of this judg-ment is the lack of the older and middle-aged voice manifested very gen-erally in post-Vatican II chapters, that is, the effects that.revealed an inex-perienced, imprudent, and exaggerated origin. As far back as 1901, the Roman Congregations governing religious have refused to approve those of temporary vows or other commitment as dele-gates in the general and provincial chapters. Chapter Principles The preceding section on proposals lists fairly adequately the aspects and fields that can give rise to proposals. Proposals can also be drawn from the principles that should guide chapters, communities, and individuals, which we shall give in this section. The supreme principle is that all should seek the greater good of the Church and of the whole institute, not merely of some part of it or of some group in it. Seek the good not merely of the young, but also of the middle-aged and the aged. A high degree of differ-ence in some aspect of life that is verified in any particular country or re-gion should receive its proper consideration. This is to be true not merely of the United States but of any other country, of Germany, France, Italy, England, Japan. Differences do not exist in all aspects of life. The American has no less need of prayer and mortification than the Italian. Obviously no nation is to give the impression of being superior to all other nations. All should retain all the good of the past and be willing to accept all good ideas of the present and of the future. It is equally the duty of all to oppose anything that is useless or harmful to the institute or its members. Any false principle such as disobedience, especially if public, to the govern-ing or teaching authority of the Church should be immediately rejected. The goal in prayer is not freedom but a more universal life of constant prayer. The Holy Spirit guides practically all of us by the ordinary way, and this implies that our problems, difficulties and their solution are at least gen-erally ordinary. Little will be gained from a study of oriental mysticism or concentration or from emphasizing the charismatic. Much will be gained to The General Chapter o] Affairs / 301 the extent that it is realized that the difficulties in prayer are the very ordi-nary things of the lack of desire for sanctity of life, the unwillingness to make the sacrifices that such a life demands, the lack of a realization that prayer demands a constant effort, an impersonal spirituality, a poor introduction to mental prayer, a complicated system or machinery of mental prayer, a neglect of spiritual reading, a life that is merely activist, natural, secular, and similar ordinary things. If a chapter accepts open placement, how can the institute staff missions, colleges, hospitals, schools, homes for the aged? Can there be a generally satisfying community life when there is unlimited home visiting and unlimited going out for diversion? W.hy always leap to the new, the youthful, the leftist? Certainly sometimes the old, the moderate, the conservative is the true, the relevant, the practical. Why run to manage-ment consultants before you have tried a thorough investigation, study, and planning on your own? If any advisers gave false and imprudent advice, this advice can be the perfect mirror of what was wanted. List everything that your institute has adopted in renewal and adaptation. How many of these have helped the members to become better religious, better apostles, better Catholics? It is certainly not easy to start all over; neither is it any too comfortable to be on a plane that is speeding to certain extinction. The dominant thought of any chapter has to be the spiritual, the su-pernatural, the eternal not only with regard to the personal lives of the in-dividual religious but also to the apostolate and community life. Natural development and fulfillment and social work are important but not primary, nor are they the soul of the religious life or of its apostolate. Reject ideas and proposals that are disproportionately expensive. All experimentation in the Church and much more its worship should be carried out in a manner that is adult, mature, dignified, restrained rather than undisciplined and reckless, and not marred by the extremes of either the right or the left. The common saying is that religious dress is not an important question. This is true of religious dress in the abstract and considered merely in itself. In its effects and ramifications, religious dress, especially of women, is certainly an important question. In the past the error was to identify the old with the true, the good, and the relevant; the same error is verified now with regard to the new. Re-evaluate every post-Vatican II experiment and change. In-vestigate every question and adopt the solution that the facts demand or counsel; do not start off with a new structure or theory. The goal is only secondarily to renew and adapt the institute; the primary purpose must be to influence the religious to renew and adapt themselves. The thrust is pri-marily personal, not institutional. There is one essential test of past, present, and future experimentation. Does it produce greater sanctity of life, a deeper and wider community life, a greater spiritual effect in the apostolate? One of the most important qualities demanded in superiors and chapters today is the courage to stand with the wise and oppose the foolish. How many of your schools, colleges, and other institutions are very secular? Can you 302 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 justifiably allow this to continue and progress? Take anything and every-thing that is good and helpful from psychology and sociology, but never forget that they are no substitute for revelation, morality, or spiritual theol-ogy. How many factual studies were made that proved the later difficulties and defections of religious were found especially in those who entered im-mediately after high school? Honestly face the vocation problem and any of its causes that may exist in the individual and collective lives of your re-ligious. It is possible to emphasize the dignity of the married life without denigrating the religious life. Is the life style of your religious in conformity with the deep totality of the religious consecration? Do all things conduce to greater sanctity, better community life, and a more spiritual apostolate? Are we complaining about the lack of inspiration in the religious life after we buried it in selfishness, materialism, and naturalism? Adopt only what gives at least solid probability of success; otherwise your conduct is at least ordinarily imprudent or even rash. Procedure in lhe Chapter The chapter procedure should be kept as simple and uncomplicated as possible. The need of recourse to parliamentary procedure should be infre-quent, and each institute is now in a position to list the few parliamentary rules that are practical. The secretary of the chapter is to post the agenda for the sessions of a day at least on the preceding evening. It can be the understanding that the proposals or matters are to be taken in the order of the reports distributed to

Issue 56.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1997. ; Living NUMBER 6 Review for Religious is a forum for shared reflection ~n the lived experiehce of all who find that the church's rich" he~'m_ges .of spirituality ~upport tbei~ personal and apostolic Christian li6es. . The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, practical, or inspirationM, written front a~ tbeoflogical or spiritual or s6metimes canonical poin~ t of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis Universit3, by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPPEMA@SLU.EI)U Manuscripts, book~ 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 McDonot, gh OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information o,1 subscription rates. ¢1997 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 nse, 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 [br the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages .and Contemporary Living NOVEMBER-DECEMBER 1997 # VOLUME56 ¯ NUMBER6 contents virtues Solidarity--More than a Polish Thing Marie Vianney Bilgrien SSND sheds light on the importance of solidarity as a virtue, especially in the preparation of the Synod for America. The Paradoxical Courage of Ananias John L. Barber draws a picture of the disciple Ananias in which the various attributes of his courage guide us in our Christian following. working together 578 587 A Quilt, a Council, and a Church Margaret Mary Knittel RSM proposes that the processes of quiltmaking and the processes of organizations call for an ever active interdependence among equal people before a loving God. Community--Healthy or Dysfunctional? Joel Giallanza CSC makes some practical observations about the choices we make for a healthy community life and describes various causes of dysfunction. 599 The Elderly among Us Eagan Hunter CSC reflects upon the importance of the elderly ~x~ among us for the vital continuity of our religious life. Revie~v for Religious 605 614 being missioned Interreligious Dialogue and the Jesuit Mission Thomas Michel SJ explains the beneficial implications of interreligious dialogue and describes the personal transformation that results. Misery Meets Mystery in Montenegro: A Survival Guide for North American Religious Annette M. Pelletier IHM pictures the "reason" for hope in the flourishing of consecrated life in North America by describing her experience of the people of the Peruvian pueblo Montenegro. perspectives 623 Itinerancy, Stability, and the Freedom of No-Where Brian J. Pierce oP examines the ascetic freedom common to apostolic itinerancy and monastic stability, the freedom both to go wherever God's Spirit moves us and to stay put wherever we have come to see that God dwells. 636 642 Grass-Roots Religious Jeanne McNulty OCV presents reflections on some new ways of living consecrated life. Jesus, Frogs, and Dancing Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ tells of the rich experience of an ever developing relationship with Jesus that deepens our love of God and love of neighbor. departments Prisms Canonical Counsel: Habit and Habitus: Current Legislation Book Reviews Indexes to Volume 56 November-December 1997 prisms Jesus Christ is the beginning and the end, the alpha and the omega, Lord of the new universe, the great hidden key to human history and the part we play in it. --Paul V-I, homily in Manila, 29 November 1970 ~esus presents us Christians with two inestimable gifts: familial intimacy with God and a share in divine vision. St. Paul speaks of God giving us wisdom to understand the mystery, "the plan he was pleased to decree in Christ, to be carried out in the fullness of time: namely, to bring all things in the heavens and on earth into one under Christ's headship" (Ep 1:9-10). Overwhelmed with the vastness of the vision, we rightly focus on the gift of intimacy. But, as we come to the end of each liturgical year, we receive reminders about the twinned vision which our relationship with Jesus entails. The many Gospel incidents of his curing blindness imply our need for Jesus to give us ever greater sight along with a deepening love relationship. One of the Gospel titles which Jesus elicits from us throughout our lives is "Teacher." As we continue to reflect on the Scriptures and receive graced insight into relationships and situations of our daily life, we become aware that Jesus remains our teacher as he was for the people during the time of his public ministry. A teacher provides information, presents new ways of seeing things, and makes connections with previous experiences, allow-ing further insights to develop. Through the gift of the Spirit, Jesus. continues giving all the richness of divine perspective. The Spirit's action gives hope to the church, whose vision is always in process of renewal. Through the focus of scripture readings during this changeover from Ordinary Time to Advent, the church faces each of us with our personal responsibility to examine whether we continue to deepen our relationship with Jesus and Review for Religious whether we allow Jesus to keep expanding our vision. The ques-tion for us: Do we seek out Jesus as our Teacher? If we enter into Matthew's final-judgment scene, how does Jesus find us "seeing" and dealing with our fellow men and women? With our aware-ness of ecological balance, how responsible are we to an envi-ronment given over to our care? Does "all things being created in him" affect our attitude of reverence in exploring Mars or some galaxy in the future? We talk about "getting stuck in our ways." We sometimes car-icature it as a special problem for the older person, but it has no age boundaries. We see children quickly get into certain ritualized ways of playing. We certainly know such patterns in our own behavior. In fact, prejudice is a fixed way of seeing or of relating. In the face of personal and historical evidence, it is a paradox to be engaged in a growing relationship with Jesus and at the same time to cling to prejudice. Does prejudice signal to us that we may be trying to focus myopically on the Jesus relationship without let-ring Jesus be Teacher for us? We may forget that faith vision is a grace always to be prayed for. Perhaps we have placed ourselves more in the position of Peter refusing to let his feet be washed, and we too need to hear Jesus' reprimand that unless we allow him to wash our feet (that is, allow our relationship with Jesus to affect our way of seeing and of acting) we will end up having no rela-tionship with him. We need to be challenged by the Pauline vision to enter into the divine pleasure of reconciling everything--both on the earth and in the heavens--in Christ. At the close of a liturgical year, as we listen to the Gospel accounts of end times and final-judgment scenes and then move on, in Advent, to the careful preparations for God's entering into our human history in Jesus, we realize anew how we are called to play our part in the cosmic vision--what St. Paul called "the mystery of Christ," the divine de, sign of salvation. Like St. Paul, we too want to make Christ known, hoping to make every human being complete in Christ, since in him--the image of the invisi-ble God--we see God's image of what it means to be human. And in our Christmas awe we continue to pray that we may have eyes to see that Mystery Incarnate, "the fullness of him who fills the universe in all its parts.'? David L. Fleming SJ The editors and staff of Review for Religious wish all our readers a most blessed Christmas and New Year! Noventber-Decevnber 1997 MARIE VIANNEY BILGRIEN SolidaritymMore than a Polish Thing virtues For too long, people have equated the concept of solidar-ity with the Solidarity Union Movement in Poland in the 1980s. On the other hand, many people have not paid any attention to solidarity because they thought of it either as a Polish thing or as just a passing event. For a few years solidarity generated written articles and symposiums after Pope John Paul II named solidarity a virtue in his 1987 encyclical Sollicitudo rei socialis. Can one birth new virtues in our religious tradition? I suspect one can, if one is pope and writing an encyclical. So maybe sol-idarity is a Polish thing! In any case, interest in the virtue soon died down. I know this because in 1994, when I was in Rome writing my dissertation tided Solidarity: d Principle, an Attitude, a Duty, or The Virtue for an Interdependent I4rorld, I seemed the only one interested in it--especially as a virtue. Yet there is a new surge of interest, due to the linea-menta prepared for the Synod of America titled Encounter with the Living.Jesus Christ: Vday to Conversion, Communion, and Solidarity. In the lineamenta, solidarity is referred to as a principle, a duty, and a virtue. Individuals and groups are urged to practice solidarity "to channel effective aid to groups and nations which suffer from poverty." Solidarity as a virtue is "a morally necessary reaction to the exis- Marie Viarmey Bilgrien SSND, director of the Hispanic ministry office in the diocese of Baker, may be addressed at P.O. Box 823; Madras, Oregon 97741 Review for Religious tence of injustice in social conditions" that affects many individ-uals and nations. Emphasizing the fact of interdependence, the lineamenta stresses that solidarity must be practiced not only by individual persons, but by entire peoples and nations, inasmuch as the world is economically, culturally, and politically more and more interconnected. What one country does regarding migra-tion, the use of natural resources, the drug trade, genetic manip-ulation, international economic relations, and so forth affects many other countries. The lineamenta stresses that solidarity is part of the church's social teaching and is to be practiced by everyone (§55); it explains as does Sollicitudo rei socialis that, if we want to undo the structures of sin so prevalent in our world, the solution lies in the moral realm. Just as sins of individuals create structures of sin that take on a hideous existence of their own, "an all-consuming desire for profit and thirst for power," so too acts of the virtue of solidarity by individuals, groups, and nations can build up structures of virtue that have a "decisive influence on economic programs and policies, on social communication, on culture, on healthcare, and so forth" not only locally but also nationally and internationally. It will be interesting to see how the idea of solidarity plays out in the meetings and documents of the Pan-America synod. Solidarity has a longer history than most people realize. It appears five times in the Latin of the Vatican II documents: twice in Apostolicam actuositatem, §8 and §14, and three times in Gaudium et spes, §§4, 32, and 57. In reading the texts one can glean that solidarity has an important spiritual dimension. It is a part of charity and has an individual and a universal dimension. It creates a responsibility to act. Jesus' incarnation shows his and God's sol-idarity with humanity. Our response to that gift is the practice of solidarity, recognizing that we are one family, that we have received gifts and talents to be used cooperatively--for the good of the whole family. Paul VI used the idea of solidarity extensively, especially in Populorumprogressio (see §§17, 43, 44, 48, 62, 64, 73, 80, and 84). It also appears in the Italian translation of Pius XII's encyclical Summipontificatus in 1939. He understood solidarity as the unity Jesus" incarnation shows his and God's solidarity with humanity. November-December 1997 Bilgrien ¯ SolidaritymMore than a Polish Thing of the human race, our.common origin from our Creator, sharing a "common habitation, this world of ours whose resources every-one has a natural right to enjoy., as they are needed for preser-vation and self-development." John Paul has been writing about solidarity since 1969. In his book The Acting Person, in describing personal development, he devotes a whole chapter to the necessity of attitudes of both oppo-sition and solidarity for the true and complete development of mature persons. In naming solidarity a virtue, he gives it greater importance. What does that mean? Solidarity as an attitude, duty, or principle only helps people to do the right thing, but as a virtue it helps them to become good. Duty implies decision and action, but virtue implies a disposition, a power, a perfection. Duty asks, What should I do? Virtue asks, How should I be? Virtue helps us do the right thing for the right reason. Solidarity is a virtue not only for individual persons, but also for groups working together and for nations in a world that is ever more interdependent. Solidarity is the virtue that can move society to the good. Solidarity is the virtue that can transform persons and society. In describing the virtue in Sollicitudo rei socialis, John Paul says that it is the response to relationships in a world that is inter-dependent; "it is a firm and persevering determination to commit oneself to the common good" (§38). He adds that the virtue is valid only when we recognize others as human persons, equal in dignity; when we feel responsible for those who are weaker--the poor (§39). In two paragraphs he lays out the components of the virtue of solidarity: interdependence, the common good, the dignity of the person, the preferential option for the poor. Solidarity recognizes that people, nations, all of creation are interconnected. What happens in one area of the world can have tremendous effects in another part. The actions of individuals, nations, and blocs of nations either increase the structures of sin (thirst for power, all-consuming desire for profit, ethnic wars, unjust wages, inhuman working conditions, patterns of violence and sexual abuse) or can build up structures of virtue (cooperative efforts to bring about a more just world and preserve the integrity of creation: the United Nations, groups concerned about ecol-ogy, peace-and-justice commissions, and so forth). Solidarity as a virtue recognizes people as equal in dignity and worthy of respect. Solidarity as a virtue sees each person as a Review for Religious member of the world family, as an image and likeness of God. Instead of looking at others as simply other, solidarity helps us to see them as neighbors, as brothers and sisters. From this flow the importance and necessity of working together to preserve the human family and the integrity of creation. Some of this can be seen in the work of the U.N. as it sends groups to work with refugees or promote peace between warring eth-nic groups. One sees the virtue in Doctors with-out Frontiers, who work in many parts of the world, and in other volunteer groups promot-ing health, education, and housing in poor coun-tries of the world. In accepting and recognizing the human dignity of each person, there must be a focus on those who are poorest. Both John Paul and Paul VI noted that their eyes were opened to the poor during their travels to Latin America and India. When one stands in a different place, one sees differently. Moving out from the Vatican palace to the streets of Calcutta and the barrios of Rio de Janeiro changes the view. Their eyes were opened; their awareness of people's suffering intensified. After those journeys, both popes talked more and more strongly about the necessity of "an option for the poor." In Sollicitudo rei socialis John Paul explains that a preferential option is not an exclusive option, but is a "firm and irrevocable option." Solidarity with its component of an option for the poor helps us to see the wider issues, the intertwining of systems and structures that oppress the poor rather than raise them up. Somewhere, in solidarity's judgment, the poor have a role. It is not true solidarity if the poor are overlooked or treated with conde-scension. In each judgment that is made, each action taken, one should ask: How will this affect the poor? The real goal of an option for the poor is to move beyond helping them and provid-ing care. The goal is for the poor to be authors of their own actions, to make their own decisions, decisions that are effective in moving them from poverty to participation in society. The goal is for them to be no longer .treated as children incapable of tak-ing care of themselves, but to participate in decision making so that the effects of solidarity are felt by all and begin to reshape the unjust structures that keep the poor poor. Only when the poor Solidarity recognizes that people, nations, all of creation are interconnected. November-December 1997 Bilgrien ¯ Solidarity--More than a Polish Thing are treated with full dignity will the virtue of solidarity begin to flourish in all its splendor. What is at stake is the common good, the good of all and the good of each individual, and solidarity is the virtue that commits everyone to the common good. Solidarity directs nations to sub-ordinate their national interests for the good of the planet, for the good of all. Solidarity directs individuals to transcend their greed and selfishness and focus on the good of the whole. Our years of selfishness, of greed for power and money, have caused havoc in the environment and have placed future genera-tions in jeopardy. No one can quash worrisome questions about the "greenhouse effect," about the dangers of the ozone level in the atmosphere, and about unknown effects of massive deforesta-tion and the continuous piling up of industrial waste. We continue to kill our planet. The widespread experimentation and manipula-tion in the biological sciences has outrun our ability to make moral decisions. Those decisions or indecisions will have for future gen-erations repercussions that we cannot predict. Solidarity is the virtue that can bring us to a greater consciousness of the importance of our moral decisions. Solidarity, by focusing the common good, reminds us that the differences of race, gender, ethnicity, culture, and economic status do not have to be divisive. Solidarity is the virtue for the third millennium. It has the capacity to inform interdependence in such a way that persons, peoples, countries, and nations will relate to each other equally, as members of the same family. Solidarity as a virtue orders actions and relationships towards the common good. It is the virtue that can transform a world of unjust structures, structures of sin, into structures of virtue, structures of justice, family structures. The general secretariat of the Synod of Bishops in its working paper has begun to answer the call of John Paul to unite all peoples of the Western Hemisphere and offers the practice of solidarity as one of the ways to solve the massive problems and inequities of the two continents. Conversion, communion, and solidarity in, with, and through Jesus Christ will be important on the journey into the third millennium. Solidarity is only the beginning. Review for Religious JOHN L. BARBER The Paradoxical Courage of Ananias anlthe pages of the sacred text, we find many courageous, but so human, people. One .such bold, authentic person was Ananias of the Book of Acts. The prelude to his encounter with Paul (then named Saul) is recorded as follows: A disciple called Ananias who lived in Damascus had a vision in which he heard the Lord say to him, "Ananias!" When he replied, "Here I am, Lord," the Lord said, "You must go to Straight Street and ask at the house of Judas for someone called Saul, who comes from Tarsus. At this moment he is praying and having a vision of a man called Ananias coming in and laying hands on him to give him back his sight." When he heard that, Ananias said, "Lord, several people have told me about this man and all the harm he has been doing to your saints in Jerusalem. He has only come here because he holds a warrant from the chief priest to arrest everybody who invokes your name." The Lord replied, "You must go all the same, because this man is my chosen instru-ment to bring my name before pagans and pagan kings and before the people of Israel. I myself will show him how much he himself must suffer for my name." Then Ananias went. (Ac 9:10-16)~ We know very little about Ananias, other than what we glean from this short account in Acts; he was "a disciple" of Jesus and lived in Damascus. Rather than being a longtime citizen of that city, our Ananias may have been a refugee from the persecution of Christians in Jerusalem. Though this is uncertain, we will John L. Barber, a lawyer, married and the father of two college-age sons, is also a lay minister at St. Paul's Episcopal Church. He writes to us from 600 Nokomis Court; Winston-Salem, North Carolina 27106. November-Decentber 1997 Barber ¯ The Paradoxical Courage of Ananias Saul is not only a real person, but also a symbol for the challenge to move from what we know, from safety, into the unknown and risk. --y-72J assume that he was indeed one who had fled from religious oppression. From Paul's address to the Jews of Jerusalem, we learn he was also "a devout follower of the Law and highly thought of by all the Jews living" in Damascus (Ac 22:12). Apparently his name was a common one, for in Acts we meet two other Ananiases. The first appears in chapter 5--Sapphira's husband, who lied to the Holy Spirit--and in chapter 23 we encounter the other, the high priest who ordered Paul struck on the mouth. In the same type of human plight in which our faith is tested, the constancy of Ananias was tried. In this sense Saul is a metaphor for those predicaments into which we must walk, involving a difficult or dangerous person or situation and presenting some risk from which we fear harm. The potential injury we face may not be as grave as the arrest and imprisonment that Ananias dreaded. Nonetheless, to us it feels and seems harmful, and we are afraid. As we journey on our Christian pilgrimage, all of us must face our own fear-provoking Sauls. Who are these Sauls for us? They are those places and people to which we would not go, were it not for God leading, moving, and stirring us and urging us to grow. They are life passages and problems we would not engage in, were it not for God inviting us or interrupting our lives. Saul may appear in life passages such as a midlife crisis or that time when the last child leaving home creates what is commonly called "the empty nest." In these interruptions we lose our bearings. Our "Saul" in them is the challenge of finding our direction again and reorienting ourselves. They might be crises like a divorce or the death of a spouse or loved one, the loss of a job or dissatisfaction with one's career. In these situations we face Saul when we are forced out of our ruts to seek new or renewed meaning for life. Saul is not only a real person, but also a symbol for the chal-lenge to move from what we know, from safety, into the unknown and risk. He is a sign for that time in life when our devotion to God demands concrete but hazardous action. We may find our Sauls in people with whom we have some Review for Religious confrontation, particularly if we are conflict avoiders. On the other hand, the Saul could be a confrontation with our own selves as we meet the challenge of seeing the truth in our own failings and weaknesses, limitations andsins, and dysfunctions and addic-tions. The dangerous Saul might be the challenge of learning healthier ways of relating and living. These types of self-con-frontation, in which we face the painful reality in our own hearts, can require even more courage than conflict with others. Typically, life's Sauls, in the guise of hard and risky challenges, involve both types of encounters: encountering self and encountering another person or some passage or crisis. For both of these, fortunately, we have a guide in the person of Ananias: he faced his own fear and Saul as well. A pattern for a bold Christian spirituality, he presents, when viewed from dif-ferent angles, a multidimensional courage. What, then, were some of the facets of his intrepidity? His Christian courage involved at least five attributes: openness before God, obedience, reluc-tance, calculated surrender, and the gift of grace. Openness before God The characters of the Bible portray many different stances or postures vis-~a-vis God. The prophet Jonah tried "to get away from Yahweh" (Jon 1:3). In Genesis, after Adam and Eve suc-cumbed to temptation, they hid from the Lord God who came to them "walking in the garden in the cool of the day." Ananias, on the other hand, was neither taking flight nor hiding. While he may have fled the persecution in Jerusalem, he did not flee from God. The Lord did not have to say to him, "Ananias, where are you?" as he did to Adam (Gn 3:8-10) or unleash "a violent wind on the sea" as he did against Jonah (Jon 1:4). Instead, Ananias had laid, himself bare before God, saying, "Here I am, Lord. Speak, your servant is listening." This "I-tere I am, Lord" stance in the presence of God is the courageous spirituality. Living "out there," in front of God, is the stalwart posture of discipleship. It is scary to live openly before God. What sins will God allow us to see? How will the glow of his love and the heat of his righteousness feel on our faces? What sufferings that our broth-ers and sisters endure will we, too, be privileged to face? What will the Lord ask us to do? For example, we pray earnestly, longing to hear God as clearly as Ananias did. Then, L.f-73 November-December 1997 Barber ¯ The Paradoxical Courage of Ananias when we do, we are hesitant to do what God has asked of us. We question God, saying, "Lord, did you really say what I thought you said?" or "God, I wanted you to speak to me, but I really don't want to do what you asked." Hiding from God among the trees of the garden is the spir-ituality of fear. Taking flight from God is the spirituality of escape. Openness before God is the spirituality of Ananias. Obedience The obedience of Ananias flowed out of his openness before God. This aspect of courage led to another, that of obedience. Courage for the Christian is different from bravery in other con-texts. For the believer, courage is connected to our obedience to God. An outgrowth of Ananias's openness was his vision in which he heard God speak, a time of intent listening for and to the voice of God. According to author Henri Nouwen, there is a com-monalty between obedience and intent listening. The word obe-dience springs from the Latin ob-audire, which signifies intent listening? Such intent listening is an act of courage in itself. For, if we begin to listen, we may come to know the sound of God's voice. And, if we come to know the sound of the voice, we may actually hear it. And, if we hear what God has to say to us, we are left in a dilemma of response and answer, as was Ananias. Reluctant Courage In our society we tend to view brave people as those who have no fear. In fact, the word "fearless" is a synonym for "courage." Yet, if we wait until we have no fright or consternation before we take a particular action, we will never act; for who among us is never afraid? This, however, is all-or-nothing thinking. Instead of being either valiant or afraid, we are simultaneously both3--valiant and afraid. Bravery, in truth, is action in spite of fear. In the face of the terror which looks us straight in the eyes, courage is a life stance or attitude which enables us to go to that dreadful place where God may be leading and we otherwise would not travel. For Ananias, bravery existed coexisted with his fear. He was obviously afraid of Saul, who journeyed to Damascus "still breath-ing threats to slaughter the Lord's disciples" (Ac 9:1). Having ReviewforReligious heard the Lord, Ananias responded by saying, "But, Lord, let me point out a few things to you. This Saul is a dangerous man. He might arrest me and put me in prison. I've already fled Jerusalem to get away from persecution, and now you want me to walk straight back into it." There is no evi-dence that Ananias ever got over being afraid of Saul. Although he was reluctant in his fear of Saul, Ananias nevertheless responded in faithfulness to the voice of God. He went to Saul in and with his fear. Following the example of Ananias, courage for the Christian exists not in overcoming our human- Courage for the Christian exists not in overcoming our humanity, but in our humanity. ity, but in our humanity. For the Christian, courage lives where there is obedience to the voice of God in spite of a very real dread. A Calculated Surrender For the Christian, courage is also an ambiguous place of ten-sion between knowing and counting the costs of our obedience, on the one hand, and, on the other, surrendering to consequences of our listening to God that are yet unknown. It is action flowing out of a paradoxical wisdom and foolishness. Whatever we might say about Ananias, he counted the cost of obeying God. He knew the risks. About our Ananias, there was a certain sophistication and wisdom. He had a firm grip on life as it really is, including the ugly part, particularly if he was a refugee from the persecution in Jerusalem. As a realistic person, his brav-ery was not a gullible one. Arrest, prison, stoning, persecution-- he knew very well what he might be getting into if he obeyed God and went to Saul. He was regardful of the reality of this man, who "entirely approved of the killing" of Stephen and "worked for the total destruction of the Church" by going "from house to house arresting both men and women and sending them to prison." (Ac 8:1 and 3). While he was well acquainted with the kind of man he was, his encounter with Saul also held a very real terror of the unknown and unfamiliar. Ananias did not know whether he would survive this ordained meeting or be stoned to death. Though we count the costs of our obedience, we still cannot know the ultimate out- Noventber-December 1997 Barber ¯ The Paradoxical Courage of Ananias come. The future cannot be envisioned. An old Jewish proverb says that "man plans but God laughs." Despite our best planning we cannot eliminate all surprises and exigencies. For the Christian, courage involves surrender into the hidden outcome of our obe-dience. In our confrontations we must know the risks we face. We are called to be wise as serpents. At the same time we cannot fore-see all the risks, and so our courage must have some element of surrender in it. In facing others we miglit lose our jobs, endure retribution, or suffer alienation in relationships. In the passages and crises of life, we might be forced from our comfortable lifestyle to one of greater risk as well as service and deeper mean-ing. In discovering ourselves as we really are, we may feel the heat of God's gaze with an intensity similar to the sun shining through a magnifying glass. Discomforting it is to see both the chaff and the wheat of the ripening crop of our own lives. Ananias's intrepidity was not naive, but one rooted in reality. Nonetheless, it involved a letting go of his life and relinquish-ment to God. If we are to be brave Christians, we must enter the place of tension between counting the cost and surrender. Gift of Grace We return to the name Ananias. For actors in the Biblical drama, a name was significant. So it was for Ananias. His name is derived from the Hebrew name Hananiah, meaning "the Lord is gracious" or "the Lord shows grace." For us to hear God's voice, the Lord must speak--which in itself is a special grace. With its limited resources, our own courage can take us only so far. Then, in order to heed the sound of God's voice, we come to the point where our humanity needs a healthy dose of grace. God's gra-ciousness is our access to Christian courage that is required of us if we are to be disciples. Grace is the window through which we step from hiding before God to the presence of God. Grace is the threshold which we cross from a fearful inaction to an obe-dience of reluctant courage. The irony of Christian courage is that it requires both a personal achievement and a gift from God. Living openly before God, Ananias of Damascus exposed him-self to hear whatever the Lord might say. Once he heard the voice of God, he responded in obedience. But his response was a human one of courage in its reluctance and hesitancy in its bravery. Review for Religious Realistic in his intrepidity, he both knew the risk and counted the cost of going to Saul. At the same time, he abandoned himself to the unknown consequences. Then he relied on God's grace so that he might be obedient to his voice. To varying degrees we are all Ananiases, whom William Barclay called "one of the forgotten heroes of the Christian Church." The mystery is that we are persons of paradox--as was Ananias; reluctantly courageous, calculated in our surrender, and obedient through grace--as was Ananias. Notes ~ Scripture quotations are from the Jerusalem Bible. 2 Seeds of Hope: A Henri Nouwen Reader, ed. Robert Durback, p. xxix. 3 I am indebted to Maurice Briggs MA for this insight about "all or nothing" or "either!or" thinking ove? and against "both/and" thinking. Rev. Briggs is a member of the faculty in the Department of Chaplaincy and Pastoral Education at North Carolina Baptist Hospital, Winston- Salem, North Cai'olina. Advent Cave Plato knew about the dark, how we prisoners face the wall in chains, only the fire b~hind us letting us see the m~oving shadows we call real. Far above, looms the door to light, reachable only by those who turn ~ away,from all they know. Wisdom, who lived in the cave at Nazareth where parents made a home and carried water to thefire, sitting at night in quiet, thoughts and the animals dozing near embers, the dying light, after a day of learning the real, calls us to turn and face the door. Evelyn Mattern November-Deconber 1997 MARGARET MARY KNITTEL | A Quilt, a Council, and a Church working together The quilt movement should be preserved as a col-lective enterprise with an ethical concern. If taken seriously as women's art, quilts cannot be perceived and enjoyed as isolated aesthetic objects divorced from the relationships of women to each other and to the rest of humankind. Quilts emin~ently pose the question of how one behaves in the asking and viewing of art. --Radka Donnell, Quilts as Women's Art Twenty years ago I took several tries at developing skills "for the home," sensing at first blush of midlife that my. more productive impulses would require something for my hands to do in my old age. Firs~t, there were the needlepoint classes, ~e.~n quilting. Quiltmaking is not for the faint of heart. As a dropout from Advanced Quilting, I can attest to the shaky feeling in the knees when faced with what appears to be an infinite number of steps. This quiltmaking episode would be instructive. As I have come to understand them, both quiltmaking and organizations involve mutuality and interdependence as essential pro-cesses within their respective collective enterprises. A Collective Enterprise In quiltmaking, the mutuality and interdependence of the women are reflected in th~ final product. Design, tex- Margaret Mary Knittei RSM works as a grants consultant for nonprofit organizations. She may be addressed at P.O. Box 634; Geneva, Illinois 60134. Review for Religious ture, color, and template come together through their hands, through their spirit shaping. "Quilts are healing because they accept the uniqueness, the positive difference, and the mortal limit of each human being."1 A quilt's design, texture, color, and template over a period of time will collect these human beings and express their individualities anew. Design, texture, color, template .become interdependent, one with the others, to bring beauty to the whole. The overall design of a quilt needs a working principle, a template, to express the color and'the texture, to specify the difference. One shape, a tri-angle for example, can be the basic design of countless quilts~ The textures of various fabrics add to color and design, with the template giving the basic shape. Color in all its bold or modest hues as textured by the various materials gets a specific shape and then is pieced'into a growing design. The mutuality and interdependence among the quiltmakers affirm them all. Positive differences go somewhere into a future, not wasting time with empty words of control; rather, they speak of vision. Limit recognizes this is a bordered piece, this quilt, and we its .shapers affirm the grace of the moment~, knowing it could be the grace of a lifetime. .Quiltmaking is a healing image, one that includes authentic conversation, meaning-filled relationships, among the people sharing the brganizational life of a parish, a religious community, a church. "Religion here is the sensation of being one with the whole, of belonging, not of subjection.''~ The virtues of quilt-making are the virtues of a healthy human organization. A Demo~cratic and Affirming Mission . Radka Donnell says in her perceptive book: "To the work of piecing quilts I was silently called, and i( took me years to sort 6ut the problems it revealed and the-difficulties it created. The early groups of contemporary quiltmakers were inspired by a sense of mission. If not expressly feminist in each case, this mission certainly was democratic and affirmative of each individual quiltmaker a'nd each quilt. (p. 6) The metaphor of quiltmaking can remind us of the Second Vatican Council's challenge to the church to accept both its divine mission and the human organization called to participate in thLa$t-7-9 November-December 1997 Knittel ¯ A Quilt, a Council, and a Church mission. Facing problems and difficulties, it is an organization capable of error, of hurt and pain, in search of truth, in sea.rch of healing and grace. During the thirty and more years since the council's call, at times its substantive energy seems depleted and diminished; but ultimately, in the hearts of people, the message will never be muffled or suffocated. The post-Vatican church as organization, as. human organi-zation, seems destined for democratic and affirming conversa-tions. That kind of, change and growth lies in the hands of all believers, as people seated as equals around a corporate quilt. If we are quiet.like the quiltmakers, we still hear, from the heart of the council, that call, that sense of being missioned, to the inclu-sive and respectful goodness of lives lived to the full in the sight of God. Our lives continue on, and as we look desperately for mileposts we acknowledge we are still on the way. Concerns for democratically and respectfully affirming connections become earnest calls for better ways of being together, whether it be in a parish, a religious community, or the church universal. Religious organizations, as human organizations, need to face their corporate humanity. A corporate way of being human is important, whether we admit or deny the fact, whether we like it or not. The foibles of people's human interaction can be acutely felt at an individual level. Often, however, corporate humanity recognizes the problems only after many have been hurt. Words like "low morale" or "uncooperative" become blame tags. The dilemma for leadership is that, when you blame, you do not lead. The nature of bureaucracies is to maintain power, no. matter what the cost. The church needs to ask itself just how bureau-cratic it wants to be. If it chooses to be increasingly pastoral, it will find that parishes, religious orders, dioceses, and the church uni-versal will raise new questions, demand new ways of~behaving. Within a bureaucratic church organization, the individual-- parishioner, ~priest, vowed religious, bishop, employee--will mat-ter less than the maintenance of power: posturing, identifying totally with power, seeking to dominate. To survive, members might feel they must be subservient in one way or another. Within a bureaucracy the common good is co-defined with the maintenance of the organization itself. More time and energy are given to protecting a bureaucratically bungled decision than to thinking through afresh what is happening. Things as we hard known them remain the same. In the face of an entrenched Review for Religious bureaucracy, the better educated, the more aware, may leave. Feeling tokenism and lack of care, they may go off, re,searching for their soul. For those who stay, the mission seems dissolved within the bureaucratic. Doing the task mindlessly and relating to self, oth-ers, and God make it all bearable. Fair Dealing Radka Donnell makes this observation about quiltmaking: To be interested in the theory and practice of quiltmaking means to look for fair dealing between women, as well as between men and women. It indicates a readiness to fight against all obstacles preventing us from creating a better world together. (p. 72) One systems view of organizations sees them as made up of four equal subsystems, mutually interdependent in their rela-tionships. These four separate and different subsystems are called the task, the structure, informal groups, and the individual. These four separate and different subsystems function optimally when all are equal to one another in importance and mutually interde-pendent in their relating. If one of these subsystems puffs up, the whole system is affected. The other subsystems get leaned upon, diminishing their contributions within the whole. If one of these subsystems withers, the functioning whole likewise suffers, gets skewed. Parishes; religious communities, and the church universal as human organizations are distinct systems. Each could be said to consist of the four subsystems of task, structure, informal groups, and the individual. The Task as Subsystem. The task in a. religious community would be its charism, the unique mission of a community as per-ceived within the Catholic tradition in its particular context. Similarly, a parish has a particular local task to accomplish. A contemplative group of religious women varies from an active one, and0an inner-city parish from a suburban one. While each participates in a still larger system, locally they are themselves separate organizations. Over time numerous activities accrete to any organization, but its central mission remains. Confusion, dif-ferences, outright hostilities occur when an important question is not acknowledged or goes unasked: "Just who does the sending, November-December 1997 Knittel ¯ A Quilt, a Council, and a Church the missioning?" Is it God, a founder or foundress, this hospital, a church, the history of a town or city? The Structure as Subsystem. The second subsystem to be looked at here is structui'e or governance. Within a community or a parish, we all know the persons making up the structure. Vv'hether community government be elected or discerned, it finds itself in Whether community government be elected or discerned, it finds itself in a quandary of expectations from membership, and from itself. a quandary of expectations from mem-bership and from itself. Likewise, a new pastor looking around for the first time feels various expectations arising. Leadership needs to lead, but, when it does, its performance may not fit pre-conceived notions. Then leadership may be tempted to resist the future; to lean back and maintain the present, and hence to end up reissuing the past. Leadership in the ideal sustains the vision of the common good, which in itself is a process both democratic and affirming. A structure ideally assumes lines and processes of accountability that are at .once just and active. Leapfrogging .and micromanaging from a0distant central office can bypass managers and commit-tees on the scene and violate the rights of the organization itself. Again, if local people .spontaneously blurt out their evaluation of an associate pastor at a parish council meeting, they bypass proper procedures and strip away the individual's right to an appropriate evaluation of job performance. The structure, we need to remem-ber, is one of four equal and interdependent, subsystems contex~ tualized within an organization. Informal Groups as Subsystem, The informal groups in an orga-nization would be various clusters of individuals espousing simi-lar norms and sanctions among themselves. They appear neutral in a well-functioning organization, manifesting as they do a nat-ural affinity of persons. Sometimes, however, an informal group skews an organization, a company, a religious community, or a parish by losing sight of the larger task, the mission, the com-mon good, and seeking its own way of goverfiing the whole. The informal group may try to impose its own values on the majority in any number of ways: by inclusion, exclusion, intimidation, and oppression, by pushing to be the most holy, the most dedicated to Review for Religious the poor, the most attentive to keeping the church intact, the most pro-life. Many masks can disguise the will for power over others, and an informal group in any organization can obscure and even obliterate the vision. The Individual as Subsystem. The fourth subsystem within this model of organization is the individual. Individuals and the moti-vations they bring to the organization impact the entire system. The recognition of the variety of motivations at play within any group can be a sobering and staggering realization. From studies on the impact of opportunity in organizations, we know that the "anointed" in organizations, those high flyers who move quickly through ~the ranks, are given life through our desire to observe them as winners. We endow their ideas and words with more credibility. We entrust them with more resources and better assignments. We have already decided that they will succeed, and so we continu-ally observe them with the expectation that they will con-firm our beliefs.3 The anointed individual in this language of organization-as-system distorts the life of the organization, overshadowing struc-ture, informal groups, task or mission, and other individuals. Other members give over their .truth, their experience, and, in thus surrendering their individual dignity, they suffocate the pos-sibility of democracy or the achievement of the common good. The anointed individual becomes a god. Within a church or reli: gious organization the confusion of gods for God needs contin-ued sorting. Self-Healing Among her comments about quilting, Radka Donnell says: The.more the system gets into high gear, the more self-he~ aling is needed. (pp. 126-127) In church organizations, isolation and wrongly constructed obediences sometimes intensifies the claim of the few to be anoint-eds. A particular organization's structure, informal groups, and task or mission could conceivably be dominated by an anointed; in this mix, religious language might be used to cover ambition, to anoint the anointed. A wonderful scene from the movie Richard 111 swipes at the capacity of religious language to cover up. Richard, pretending to be secluded and hard at prayer, emerges to be "convinced." to November-Dece~nber 1997 Knittel ¯ A Quilt, a Council, and a Church accept the English throne he has serpentinely plotted and mur-dered to acquire, Knowing that people consider him in some way the anointed one, he now considers himself a god. He becomes increasingly foreign to those around him, and later he meets defeat in battle. Have we ever looked on when a locally anointed individual (now apparently feeling godlike as well) strongly inserted irrele-vant and impertinent opinion into a community or parish com-mittee, spilling the work of months down the drain? Numbers of those very committee members, still ~motionally inclined to attribute greater knowledge and perhaps even a cosmic wisdom to the anointed one, may find themselves recoiling in disarray. Can we recall an experience in our lifetime when an individual crashed through the lines of accountability appropriate to structure, manipulated informal groups by feeding them what they want to hear, and used language of mission or church or patriotism to keep the advantage? Is this the call of the prophetic, we. wonder, as we give over our own individual power to this other individual, the anointed? "Prophetic ministry consists of offering an alternative perception of reality and in letting people see their own history in the light of God's freedom and his will for justice.''4 The test suggested is whether the anointed gives space for us to reflect courageously on our 'individual histories "in the light of God's freedom." To con-tinually strive to see one's own history in God's light will be to know our own history, our own experience, anew each time. This is not a blaming game, an unhealed existence, or a quick fix with aphorisms, but a genuine opening in my life, your life, for healing, for Jesus the Christ. Self-healing is not a plastic therapy for believers, but an engagement with a living. God. The question remains: Does the message of an. anointed one leave room for all these variables, for the lights of a freeing God? Margaret Wheadey contrasts the "anointed" individual within an organization to the "dead" individual. Others in organizations go unobserved, irrevocably invisi-ble, bundles of potential that no one bothers to look at. Or they receive summary glances, are observed to be "dead," and are thereafter locked into jobs that provide them with no opportunity to display their many pote.ntials,s A post-Vatican II church unfurled to Catholics a new way of being, and we need to revisit those challenges. Dying to self, we Review for Religious have come to increasingly realize, never meant not unbundling our own gifts, our own graces, as we become acquainted with them. Our own baptismal anointing as Christians, no longer a vague memory, becomes a constant call. But, alas, we knew that struggling to be "undead"--not be to an anointed, just to be undead--would have its own price, Declaring the king to be naked in a bureaucracy brings life-mark-ing, career-reversing implications. A question, a deviation, could bring death-dealing expulsion from the informal life of the group or from the larger organization itself. Each person having and wanting to have influence, each want-ing to "see their own history in the light of God's freedom," becomes incessantly difficult if declared or assumed to be among the "dead." The equality of persons within an organization is the paradigm for the equality of each subsystem in the model offered here. Puffing up one impinges upon all the others. Withering one depletes all. Equality equates to mutuality among members. The Incessant Pursuit The church, embracing sinners in her bosom, is at the same time holy and always in need of being purified, and inces-santly pursues the path of penance and .renewal. (Lumen gentium, §8) The processes of quiltmaking and the processes of organiza-tions call for an incessant pursuit of mutuality and interdepen-dence among women and men equal before a loving God. The Second Vatican Council invited the church of the 20th century to know both its humanity and its wonder. If parishes, orders of women and men religious, and the church universal in a post-Vatican II church accept themselves as corporate human organizations, they will steadily come to under- Stand the strengths and pitfalls that accompany such aggregate groups, The rich heritage of the church cannot afford to forget that it is an organization of human persons. Such forgetting rehearses feudal futility. There is both frailty and strength in its organizational life. At the level of shared humanity, frailties and strengths within any group will always be fa!i'ly evident. To deny this shared humanity is to set up the religious organization as exempt from the foibles and frets that indeed call on God for its life principle. Novetnber-Decentber 1997 Knittel ¯ A Quilt, a Council, and a Church "The church, or, in other words, the kingdom of Christ now pres-ent in mystery, grows visibly in the world through the power of God" (LG §3). To deny the church's humanness is to deny the power of God. As we continue to unpack that sublimely historic event we fondly call "the council," there is more to do, more to remind others about, more for ourselves to be .reminded about. The Roman Catholic Church as a religious organization, ceasing to gloss over its frail corporate humanity, will come to understand its corporateness at a more profound level. The church as a human organization will come to truly trust in the mystery of its shared life of faith in Jesus the Christ. This living quilt we call "church" calls to a people deeply conversant with a living God. Notes I Radka Donnell, Quilts as Women's Art: A Quilt Poetics (North Vancouver, Canada: GaIlerie Publications, 1990), p. 425. 2 Dorothee Soelle, Theology for Skeptics (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1995), p. 28. 3 Margaret J. Wheadey, Leadership and the New Science (San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 1994), p. 60. 4 Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1978), p. 110. s Wheatley, pp. 60-61. Subscriptions to Review for Religious can now be ordered or renewed by I~AX and.paid for by MasterCardor ~sa. FAX the order form inside the back cov~r~ or CALL our office with, you~r.tcgedit carol numbi~r:.? o. FAX: 314-~-7-7362 ¯ PHONE: 314297727363 Review for Religious JOEL GIALLANZA Communitym Healthy or Dysfunctional? ~or these reflections about community living in religious .~. orders and congregations, I propose what may seem a curi-ous biblical passage, the one that concludes with "Very well, pay Caesar what belongs to Caesar--and God what belongs to God" (Mr 22:21). We are more accustomed to texts on loving one another or bearing one another's burdens or remaining united and at peace among ourselves or reconciling with one another whenever necessary. All those principles and practices are very important for the life of a healthy community. From this text, however, two :practical norms can be drawn which also are impor-tant for life in community: appropriateness and balance. These two norms are tightly intertwined, like a fine weaving; in fact, both can be drawn from those same words of Jesus: "Pay Caesar what belongs to Caesar--and God what belongs to God." First, appropriateness: We do not give to Caesar what belongs to God or to God what belongs to Caesar. In community we can bring realities into~our life together which are not really appro-priate precisely because they are misplaced: for example, unfair expectations of someone or of one another as a group; unwill-ingness to share or communicate something which by our pro-fession we commit ourselves to share and communicate; personal agendas, with their accompanying attitudes and perspectives, and emotions, which may really belong in ministry or to only one of our relationships or somewhere else altogether. Joel Giallanza CSC writes for us once again from: Congregation of the Holy Cross; Via Framura, 85; 00168 Roma; Italy. November-December 1997 Giallanza ¯ Community--Healthy or Dysfunctional? Serious personal reflection and realistic self-knowledge bring with them the ability to answer this simple question: Where does what I am experiencing--this issue, this feeling, this concern-- belong? Where will it be most appropriately articulated and addressed? Inappropriate placement of issues, feelings, and con-cerns generates an inadequate response. Then all frustrations sur-rounding them will be intensified as they continue to be unaddressed. Second, balance: We give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God at the same time. Of the two points, balance is the more challenging, even on a daily basis. Most of our time and energy as apostolic religious are invested in ministry. This is important, given who we are as religious com-mitted to continue the mission of Jesus in the spirit of our founders and foundresses. Nevertheless, we do need to remind ourselves from time to time that each of us has only one limited pool of time and energy. Too easily we can fall out of balance by expending the maxi-mum of our quality time and energy in ministry--or on some-thing else--and simply neglect community or prayer. While that might never degenerate into complete negligence; we may grad-ually adopt a very minimalist approach to community. Then, from time to time, we may feel shocked that those with whom we live every day have changed or rearranged this or that without our having been consulted. Conveniendy we might forget to ask our-selves if we were sufficiently present, available, and interested when those decisions were being formulated and then imple-mented. Community life can be joyful and it can be painful; at times it can be the greatest of blessings and at times the heaviest of burdens. But never has there been a guarantee, that it would be easy. As long as we are human, working to live closely with other people, appropriateness and balance in approaching our commu-nity life will continue to be significantchallenges. "Pay Caesar what belongs to Caesar--and God what belongs to God." We may not always make that payment perfectly, but we are responsible for making the effort 'to live community with the appropriateness and balance which can facilitate the love and unity we seek. Though other things must also be included, these are principal ingredients that determine the quality of life and health within a community. Review for Religious Quality of Community: Healthy or Dysfunctional? Very little, if anything, about community is theory.It is work to live with one another. But through our commitment it is meant to be a work of the heart. The alternative is that members care lit-tle about one another and about the space in which they live. Gradually each individual b~comes the center of a personal uni-verse which has minimal contact and communication with the other personal universes in the vicinity. Then all the theories about community and loving one another constitute little more than fine words carried on hot air. , Community life, then, can be healthy or dysfunctional. These present thoughts will focus on some characteristics of a healthy community and on some earmarks of a dysfunctional community. The following sets of contrasting characteristics represent spec-trums present in all communities. They are presented here only as a stimulant for further reflection and discussion vis-h-vis the specific experiences and contexts of actual local communities. The health or dysfunction of a community is evident from its location on the spectrum. Determining that location is not a random, arbi-trary exercise; it emerges from the members' individual and com-munal self-knowledge, hgnesty, self-examination, and willingness to adapt. Only then can the members decide what adjustments will facilitate living more effectively as a healthy community. Community or Computer? Communication, sharing and processing information, has a major influence on the health or dysfunction of a community. Healthy choices and decisions are based on sufficient and appro-priate, information and clear communication. This assumes gen-uine listening, not simply hearing. Attentive listening enables us to analyze and respond to. someone's words with understanding and love. , , The alternative is not :merely a failure to listen, though that will be part of it. Much more, the alternative strips the entire interchange--the information sharing and the personal decision making--of any affective, human quality. We may react mechan-ically to what we barely hear, quickly making preliminary and sometimes permanent judgments. As individuals and as a com-munity, we may focus,only on facts, with little regard for how all this decision or this expressed opinion will affect the people involved. Then we are no longer a community, but a computer. November-Decentber 1997 Whether the members are a "community or a computer depends upon how they share and deal with information among themselves, how they communicate with one another. A healthy community remains focused on people; it puts information at the service of people. A dysfunctional community operates much like a computer, focusing on the precision and,.processing 6f infor-mation; it tends to view people as servants of that information. A healthy community strives always to choose and decide wi.th understanding and love. By contrast, a dysfunctional community may be efficient, but is not likely to be person oriented. What needs to be done gets done, but with little regard for the vari-ables of human personality, for people's preferences and per-spect. ives, for the rich nuances that the talents and experience of the individual members could provide. Efficiency may be an important value, but it is no guarantee against dysfunction; only love can prevent that. The quality of communication among community members colors the atmosphere, the climate, the spirit, of their residence, marking it as either a home or a hohsing facility: In turn, that atmosphere affects the quality of relationships among 'the mem-bers and thus the witness,they present to'the world around them through their presence and ministry. Assessing the quality of com-munication within a community is among the mos~t effective and direct means of improving the overall health of that community. Community or Condominium? When the members actively establish and actually engage in their communal lifel the community's ;health benefits d.ireetly. Several elements are involved: first, common call and mission. The healthy commianity understands its call and articulates its mission. This becomes a source ofenergy and provides meaning and direction, with far-reaching implications for every dimension of religious life, from personal and communal lifestyles, to voca-tion promotion, to decisions concerning ministries and the use of financial resources. By contrast, a dysfunctional community drifts without a clear sense of where it is going or how it wants to present itself to the world around it. As a result, irreconcilably wide gaps develop among the lifestyles and philosophies of the various members and local communities and jeopardize the very fibers holding the com-munity together. Efforts to identify and maintain any common Revie~v for Religious call and mission are not a priority among the members of a dys-functional community. A second element of community health is mutual respect. Members have a certain maturity and respect one another's per-sons, possessions, and perspectives. This is not to imply that there will be constant and. consistent agreement; that is not realistic. Respect has more to do with recogniz-ing, accepting, and even honoring the differences among the members than with arriving at some superficial level of agreement. By contrast, a dysfunctional commu-nity has replaced respect with recipe. Its members work hard to redesign one another according to some image or stan-dard' they hold which may have nothing to .do with the ideals put before them by the life and example of the founder, or the constitutions, or the experience and capabilities of the members. Redesigning one another consumes much time and energy that should be directed elsewhere., ~ Third--this expands the preceding point--a healthy community celebrates " the 'members' giftedness. Rejoicing in one~ another's gifts is a concrete expression of respect. This assumes that we have made the effort to know one another's gifts; further, this effort involves sharing and communicating with one another. The challenge here is to go beyond knowledge toward: affirmation and even promotion of one another's gifts. This is possible only if we are secure and comfortable with ourselves, with our own individual gifts and goodness. By contrast, the members of a dysfunctional community tear down one another, not so much through specific hatred or dislike, but because of personal insecurity, being uncomfortable with one~ self. Jealousy and envy emerge from .low self-esteem and superfi-cial self-knowledge. If we feel and come to believe that Our gifts or talents are insufficient and inadequate, we may be tempted to build up ourselves by tearing down others. This may be quite subtle: a roll of the eyes, .a nod of the head, a sigh that commu-nicates "There he/she goes again!" In time the only comfort zone The quality o.f communication among community members colors the atmosphere, the climate, the spirit, of their residence, marking,it as either a home or a housing facility. Nov~nber-December 1997 Giallanza ." Communi~--Healtb~ or D~Cunctional? we may experience is when we maintain our distance from one another. We are polite, but politic: never disturbing or unsettling one another, but also never challenging and ultimately, never really knowing and loving one another. Fourth, a healthy community does, of course, provide and allow space--physical, psychological, and spiritual--for the mem-bers, as individuals and as a community, to be alone and silent, to pray, think, reflect, and relate to God. Maintaining and respect-ing such space requires a level of maturity and comfort that does not equate community with constant togetherness nor reduce it to comfortable superficiality. By contrast, a dysfunctional community sacrifices environ-ment and atmosphere to organization and structure. Though everyone has space, the community does not seem to be alive. There is no sense of an appropriate ambiance, a balance between the private and public forums of the members. Privacy tends to degenerate into secrecy, and public times together become safely and securely sociable. Shared prayer and significant interaction among the members are minimized or routinized to assure the completion of requirements without the responsibilities of com-mitment. Fifth, a certain spirit characterizes a healthy community. The atmosphere, the spirit, of a healthy community encourages the members to feel at home with one another, with the physical space, and with the rhythm of life. This spirit speaks more loudly to prospective members and occasional guests than any other aspect of the community's life. If our guests do not perceive that we .feel at home in this space and with this rhythm of life, then they are not likely to feel at home either. The questions confronting us are direct: Do we feel at home here? Is this an atmosphere which encourages~us to contribute, to be open, to trust? If not, why?- By contrast, a dysfunctional community has a climate from which members try to escape in one way or another. This is most clearly observable when the balance between presence and absence collapses. Personal activities of the demands of ministry are allowed to expand and overflow so that it becomes difficult if not impossible to be present for the community meetings, common meals and prayer, and other gatherings and celebrations as well. Away from the community, members feel more alive, and they feel a heaviness when it is time to return. They find it emotion-ally and spiritually draining to live in this community setting. Review for Religious Sixth, efforts to preserve unity indicate a healthy community. Recognizing the work and the sacrifice involved, the members enter willingly into one another's lives through appropriate self-revelation and compassionate listening. And they willingly make the time for that work and sacrifice. By contrast, a dysfunctional community no longer invests time and energy in the quality of its life. Its members may be quite civil and sociable, but they do not form significant affec-tive and spiritual bonds with one another. Their residing together is merely a coin-cidence of time and space rather than a reflection of a deeper commitment to one another. Given the importance of these six characteristics of a healthy community, when dysfunctional cl~aracteristics are dominant, we no longer have a commu-nity but a condominium. Everything appears to be in order, well organized, running smoothly, and comfortably .appointed--but the place is merely a habi-tation, not a home. Everyone is self-con-tained. People pass one another and exchange all the acceptable courtesies and If our guests do not perceive that we feel at home in this space and with this rhythm of life, then they are not likely to feel atohome either. appropriate pleasantries, but maneuver away from any deeper sharing. Obviously, a dysfunctional community can neither attract nor nurture healthy vocations. Those who desire to live in this way could easily find what they want in a well-managed and efficiendy operated condominium. Community or Cold Storage? Life in community necessitates some personal and communal qualities. Though any list is somewhat arbitrary, I would suggest that members of any healthy communit~ have some basic quali-fies that facilitate and sustain their relationships with one another. In their personal qualities, the individual members of a healthy community will have a rich diversity. These qualities, moreover, will vary from community to community. They will, however, include mutual affection and affirmation, willingness to apolo-gize and to forgive, fostering friendships, generosity, compassion, and joy. All these and others communicate a distinctively posi- Novetnber-Dece'mber 1997 Giallanza ¯ Community--Healthy or Dysfunctional? tive response to two simple questions: Am I / Are we happy in this way of life? Would others perceive that we are happy and enthusiastic as they observe our everyday life? This is not to deny the human reality of the striving of us all, with various ups and downs in community life, prayer, ministry, the vowed life, and personal relationships. Admittedly, these qualities may not always be fully evident in us, but it ig essential that we have a commitment and a willingness to make constant efforts to develop them. By contrast, a dysfunctional community seems only to exist, to survive. It does not give the impression of flourishing with all the warmth and beauty of human relationships. It appears to be merely a group of people occupying the same space together, but never encountering one another on a deeper level that calls them to life. A dysfunctional community does not and cannot commu-nicate that the members are truly happy to be living and carrying out their everyday tasks and responsibilities. Communal qualities do not differ significantly from the per-sonal qualities necessary for healthy community. In fact, they reflect the interaction of those personal qualities among the mem-bers. The health of that interaction is especially evident when community members genuinely enjoy one another's company and are generously hospitable to others. They plan for time together on a regular basis, and they safeguard that time as a priority. VChat they do during that time together is not as important as their tak-ing the time to be present and attentive to one another. That attentiveness will overflow so tha.t guests feel welcome to activi-ties of the members' common life. By contrast, the members of a dysfunctional community find time together to be a chore, and so they reduce it to a minimum, either by unchallenged design or through the deterioration of relationships. It would not be uncommon to find much loneli, ness in these situations, loneliness that is compensated for by hav-ing all or most of one's primary friendships outside the local community. In a healthy context, loneliness can teach us and chal-lenge us to deepen .our relationship with the Lord and sharpen our compassion for and sensitivity to the loneliness of others. In a dysfunctional community, however, loneliness takes a very dif-ferent direction: it tends to breed discouragement and depres-sion which lead to compensatory behaviors. Vv'hen a group gives little or no evidence of these personal and communal qualities, they have cold storage, not community. Review for Religious They live together, but only as if in suspended animation, with-out those human qualities and interactions that bring life and happiness and growth to a community. Even if the members of a local community are not aware of this and do not acknowledge it, their guests will see it, and, most certainly, so will those who are considering a vocation to their way of life. Given the realities, of society,today, many of those considering a vocation to religious life come from environments that have little human warmth, little sense of family. It is. unlikely--if they truly want to live in a healthy way--that they would commit themselves to a life of cold storage in a dysfunctional community. Community or Committee? Community is a straightforward reality. If we do not take the time and energy to create it, if we do not take responsibility for it and take initiatives for it, then it will not really exist. Community is never the result of spontaneous generation, nor does it work by automation. The mem-bers of a healthy community do not abdi-cate their right and duty to make, maintain, and monitor the quality of their common life. They accept the idea that reflection together, sharing, and bonded-ness are key elements in the health of community life. By contrast, a dysfunctional commu-nity seems to drift as the members wait for someone to do something, to take responsibility for moving the community forward. On occasion, some issue or sit-uation becomes a crisis before the members mobilize enough to respond reasonably. For instance, the demands o.f ministry may have been allowed to control the scheduling of regular times together for reflection and sharing, or some members' manipu-lative behaviors may have been left unchallenged for so long that the community now manifests a growing collective passivity. The challenge here is to decide if people's lives together will be a community or a committee. "Committe~" here means a tem-porary group formed for a particular purpose. Its members address an issue or perform a task and then they disperse. Maintaining relationships is not a committee's function; in fact, that could Community is never the result of spontaneous generation, nor does it work by automation. Noventber-Dece~nber'1997 Giallanza ¯ Community--Healthy or Dysfunctional? hinder its efficiency and effectiveness. In the case of a community, however, failure to maintain relationships compromises its capac-ity for being a prophetic presence and witness in and for our world. Community or Convenience? There is a genuine asceticism involved in building and sus-taining a healthy community life. This asceticism has some com-ponents. First, the qualities of love and unity in a community must be personal and individual before they can exist commu-nally. If as individuals we take personal responsibility to foster these qualities by helpful activity, then the group we belong to will do so too. In a dysfunctional community there is a wide gap between talk about responsibility and the reality of what is actually done. Everyone may say "we" do such-and-such, but, in reality, only a few take any initiative or action in response to the situation or issue at hand. Second, within a healthy community, care and concern are given generously and appropriately. Generously, because they are directed to each individual within the community. Appropriately, because they are adapted to the particular situations, personalities, and needs of the individual members. The sensitivity and aware-ness at work here are mutual, respectful, and inclusive. Third, individual, active participation is essential to healthy community life. If individuals do not participate in community meetings or contribute to common decisions, they get in the way of healthy community life. Really, there is not much middle ground in this regard. Silence and passivity are not automatically harmless to the quality of community life, Members of a dysfunctional community are passive partici-pants. Every dimension of their consecrated life--prayer, daily interactions, conversation at meals, attentiveness to guests-- reflects a general lack of energy and interest. The members put their energy and interest outside the community. Two means for facilitating this asceticism are personal accountability and effective conflict resolution. Calling one another to accountability is never easy to do, but it does mark the care and concern, the participation and love, of a healthy community. In a dysfunctional community, life together is lived at Review for Religious the lowest common denominator. Community members do not challenge one another, either because of fear or because no one wants to be challenged. Then the whole community will be only as strong as the weakest member; it will make progress only at the pace of the slowest one. Effective conflict resolution is indispensable. A community with absolutely no conflict is not perfect, it is dead!_How con-flict is dealt with in community can weave the members together into a magnificent tapestry of healing and love, or it can tear them into so many scattered pieces of cloth with no common threads. Often a small event or issue, left unaddressed, becomes infected over time, changing a community from health to dys-function, from bondedness to brokenness. If we are unwilling to practice the components of this asceti-cism and use the means that help us do so, we are no longer speak-ing of community, but of convenience. The dysfunctional community protects and promotes and projects a life of conve-nience. Therefore, whatever is inconvenient--whether it is related to prayer or practicalities of living together or personal relation-ships-- never reaches the level of consideration as a community priority. Convenience can assure that no one is upset, but it also guarantees that people will grow in only minimal ways. The Choice before Us The quality of our community is not a onetime choice; we must choose to live in love with one another day in, day out. If we do not make that choice daily and affirm it by our actions daily, we begin to live something else. Eventually our life together becomes ~omething else: a computer, a condominium, cold stor-age, a committee, or a convenience. We become something, but not community. We give witness to something, but not to unity and love. The choice is ours. We know well the words of Deuteronomy 30:19 calling us to "choose life." Sirach, too, .expresses bluntly the choice before us: If you choose, you can keep the commandments, and to act faithfully is a matter of your own choice. God has placed before you fire and water: stretch out your hand for whichever you choose. Before you are life and death, and whichever you choose will be given to you. (15:15-17) November-December 1997 Giallanza ¯ Community--Healthy or Dysfunctional? Three questions can assist us in reflecting on our individual and communal response to that life-or-death choice which is ever before us. First, what brings us together? VChy are we here? Is it our faith in Jesus and our desire to live that faith through this religious community and its mission? Or is this life simply a way to do a ministry--teaching or nursing or social service or pas-toral work or whatever? Admittedly, our faith in Jesus and the work we do are not mutually exclusive; but the question here con-cerns the foundation of our life's identity and meaning. Second, what keeps us together? Is it our love for one another and our efforts to support one another in living the way of love? Or is it that we have no alternatives and have become comfort-able? Or are we afraid to consider any alternatives? Having no alternatives and being unwilling to consider other options are not good indications that we have made a healthy and mature choice of what we are doing. Third, what flows from our being together? Is it the prophetic witness of our faith in Jesus and our love for one another? Or is it: our accomplishments? The compliment paid to the early Christians was "See how they love one another!" not "See how much they get done!!~ Healthy community is built and sustained by faith and love and witness. Dysfunctional community is concerned only with the work to be done, the status quo, and the results of what is done. Only a healthy community can project Christian life and human warmth and prophetic witness. These thoughts will close with the Gospel te~t which opened them: "Very well, pay Caesar what belongs to Caesar--and God what belongs to God" (Mt 22:21). Because he is referring to a Roman coin, Jesus speaks in terms of payment. His words remind us that healthy community costs something--we will have to pay. A healthy community costs each of us individually because we must constantly give of ourselves,° thus making our commitment to one another real in our attitudes and our actions. COmmunity costs us collectively because we must commit ourselves to make our life together a witness of love and peace and unity. Together we must call one another to this commitment. Dysfunctional com-munity is free of charge. Healthy community costs something. Individually and collectively, we must determine our willingness to make the necessary payment. Review for Religious EAGAN HUNTER The Elderly among Us Tue, we always have had elderly religious among us. But ~ two factors have changed the emphasis. First~ everyone is living longer, in the secular world and in the religious life as well. In 1900 only four percent of the total general population was over the age of 65--one in every twenty-five. By the year 2000 it is projected that as much as thirteen percent of the total :general population will be over 65. Life expectancy has been extended. It is projected that those arriving at age 65 today can expect to live approximately 16.3 years beyond that age. Second, the median age of religious communities is getting older, changing the dimen-sions of the concern. These two factors have made aging in reli-gious communities a more visible, more widely known concern. The problems faced by elderly religious are not necessarily a matter of increasingly poor health. Even though more vulnerable to ill health than in their earlier years, many continue to live healthy lives into very advanced years and some almost until death. Growing old is physiologically and psychologically inevitable, but these changes vary from individual to individual, with no pre-dictable'pattern emerging. Physiologically, advancing years bring problems of lessened mobility, gradual diminishment of the senses (especially sight and hearing), weakened ability to think and remember, Increasingly, heart problems and strokes occur, bones weaken, and arthritic and other impairments increase. Most older religious seem able to adjust more rapidly to various changes in their physiological world than in their psychological one. Eagan Hunter CSC is professor of education at St. Edward's University; 3001 South Congress Avenue; Austin, Texas 78704. Novonber-Deconber 1997 Hunter ¯ The Elderl~ amon~ Us Many times the decline of physical powers causes a brother or sister to remain somewhat isolated within his or her religious house, out of the "mainstream" and interacting less frequently with others. In the religious life we have been taught that one of the major facets of our existence is our contribution to the ministry and apostolate. Our religious formation tends to make us become self-sufficient. When the necessity asserts itself of cutting back on former activities once managed quite easily, older religious may experience feelings of depression, of uselessness. They may feel themselves a burden to others and no longer able to do their fair share. They seek ways and means through which to make some form of contribution to the common life and to the ministry. Sometimes there is a tendency for younger people to assume tasks which the elderly could do if provided sufficient extra time. In the interest of efficiency and effectiveness, we may become impatient and take the tasks out of their hands. Thus for the elderly the depressing feeling of 'not being able to contribute their part becomes magnified. Younger religious must seek ways to continue incorporating the elderly into the community's daily activities. The contemplation of retirement involves a psychological state, a sense of psychological withdrawal from the demands of one's ministry or occupation and the entry into a totally new ori-entation towards oneself and one's work. The taking of this step in our work-oriented society indeed is a milestone event and a very sensitive process. It marks a turning point in one's adult life, a shift from the middle years to old age. The extent to which retirement is viewed as a positive life transition depends much upon the attitudes of the individual. Some have more difficulty adjusting to retirement than others. Some are reluctant to retire, for their work seems to give their lives structure and meaning which is seen as becoming void in the future. What decisions need to be made when facing this stage of one's lifespan? What choices are available to the individual? Such a transitional adjustment incorporates a process of con-templation and evaluation of life's meaning and purpose, one's vocational call to service. It involves integrating the many expe-riences, meanings, and facts of one's life. It brings into focus one of the most incomprehensible concepts of all--one's own human. mortality. Such an adjustment involves acceptance of one's life with dignity and without too much regret for things not done, roads not followed. This reorientation phase of adjUstment should Review for Religious involve exploring new avenues and ways of being involved. The elderly who are well educated and who have enjoyed their work life will desire to continue some type of positive experiences related to that former occupation, but with lessened participa-tion and responsibilities. I had a great-aunt who was a nun. For some sixty years she was a successful teacher and administrator. With the limitations of advancing old age and the resultant physical losses, it became necessary for her to surrender one by one those things which she loved doing and did well. I can remember visiting her in their infirmary before her death. While we were talk-ing, a younger nursing nun entered the room with a tray containing a stack of small plastic cups used to give medication and a small bowl of soapy water. My aunt had insisted that she still could make a contribution, and this was her way. As we talked, she carefully and slowly washed and dried each cup. A contented smile of pleasure filled her face when the nursing nun returned an hour later to pick up the tray and complimented my great-aunt on the help she was to them. Even this litde bit meant much to my elderly aunt. She still was a con-tributing member of her religious community in her own little way. In my own religious community, we have a brother who cel-ebrated his hundredth birthday in 1996. For many years he was an active teacher, administrator, religious superior. In addition to the task assigned him through his ministry, he reached out in other ways to those around him. Before entering the religious life, he had been a member of the Souza band. It was this gift of music he shared with others over the years of his religious life through playing in various civic musical groups and symphonies. After a major stroke, one of his primary goals was to rehabilitate his muscular coordination to the degree that once again he could make joyful sounds to the Lord on his cello. Prayer, music, and his community became the center of his retirement. He continues to have many gifts to share with others, and share he does. Many of us feel the limitations that the ac6ve demands of our ministry place on our personal time. We sometimes feel there is not sufficient time to pray. But, for many of our retired religious, Younger religious must seek ways to continue incorporating the elderly into the community's daily activities. November-Decentber 1997 Hunter ¯ The Elderly among Us time is what they have most of--so we must plug into this spiri-tual "powerhouse." We must stress to the elderly religious that their contribution is to storm heaven in behalf of the concerns and problems being encountered by those in the active ministry. They can pray and are happy to assume this role of petitioner. Seen in the proper perspective, the lives of our older reli-gious need not be brooding or unhappy. We must give them our support and understanding, realizing the emotional tensions, phys-ical trauma, and disease which have become so much a part of their lives. We must remember that these are the community's elderly of today, and that the elderly of tomorrow will be us! How would we want to be treated? Younger religious must be careful not to participate in a form of age stratification within our religious communities. Such strat-ifying may be seen in the general society, with people being divided into classes and castes of various sorts. In such a society it becomes the norm administered to qualify or disqualify indi-viduals for desired roles and positions. Age is a significant variable in such social stratifications and becomes an operative factor in the qualification or disqualification process. Many of our elderly once held leadership roles in commu-nity undertakings. Through age discrimination such religious may feel that their expertise and experiences are no longer sought, that their role in community has been terminated. We must real-ize the symbolic value of their witness roles. It is their footprints that led our various religious communities to the roles we fill today. The elderly hold a vital position in the continuity of our religious life. Vatican Council II speaks, of the heritage of our various religious orders and congregations. We are asked to turn~ to the sources of Christian life, to the inspirations, conceptions, traditions, and ideals of our founders, as well as to those who fol- ¯ lowed later in our histories. We are asked to restore these to our religious life through modifications that meet contemporary reli-gious and social needs. The elderly among us are those who helped mold our particular institute into what it represents today. They,:are our living heritage, our legacy. Thus we must continue to reach out in order to -benefit from their years of knowledge and understanding of our particular mode of living the religious~ life. Their guidance and insights form a treasure which we cannot afford to ignore or'discredit. The elderly religious among us have seen their family mem- Review for Religious bers as well as their religious associates die. More and more of their generation is disappearing. Feeling the loss of these loved ones, they come face-to-face with their own mortality. The pos-sibility of one's own death becomes a factor of life. When young, we tend to believe we are indestructible--death is something asso-ciated with old age, and we are young. Time passes and the pos-sibility of one's death becomes a reality. Our religious beliefs provide us with a solid and positive creed. The Vatican Council stresses that we have been created by God and that, through the passion and death of Jesus, the terrors of bodily death have been conquered. If we live this life fully, we will be restored to whole-ness and a sharing in .the divine life which lies beyond all corruption. "Hence to every thoughtful man a solidly established faith provides the answer to his anxiety about what the future holds for him. At the same time faith gives him the power to be united in Christ with his loved ones who have already been snatched away by death. Faith arouses the hope that they have found true life with God" (Gaudium et spes, § 18). The resultant insights make it easier to develop one's own coping mechanisms for dealing with the future. Yet death remains a mystery. Our goal should be to assist the elderly to reflect upon their life's achievements done in the name of our Lord and to reflect upon the truths of Christianity related to the meaning of life and death. As Erikson points out, the last stage of the human life cycle encompasses old age and the retirement from the pro-ductive years of life. He sees this last stage as ego integrity.versus disgust and despair. The positive outcome of this last stage is an acceptance of one's self and one's life without bitterness or regret. It is a coming to terms with i:he approaching finality of one's life. It incorporates the avoidance of the negative feelings that one's life has been wasted, the avoidance of discontentment about one's limited accomplishments, the "road not taken," the task not done. Upon going blind, Milton feared that God would chide him for wasting talents and gifts that were now lying useless in him. An inner struggle went on until Milton reached the conclusion that, rather than rejecting the role given him by God, he simply needed to accept it. He phrased this acceptance exceedingly well The elderly among us are those who helped mold our particular institute into what it represents today. November-December 1997 Hunter ¯ The Elderly among Us when he said, "They also serve who only stand and wait." This quiet acceptance is difficult, for most people are action oriented. In the declining years of our lives, God is not asking anything heroic. Rather, he is asking for the quiet acceptance of one's infir-mities, one's physical disabilities and limitations, one's sufferings and pains. St. Paul expresses this acceptance when he says, "I find my joy in the suffering I endure for you. In my own flesh I fill up what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ for the sake of his body, the church" (Col 1:24). This submission and acceptance can be raised as one's gift to heaven. This is a task we all can do. These elderly religious have preceded us in the labors of our ministries. The burdens ~they carried frequendy were heavy. They did not trudge; they strode onward, for they were people of faith and hope. Approaching the end of their individual journeys, they need our support, our understanding, and our willingness to assist. This we must be willing to give them in their time of need. Simply this is all they are asking of us. To Mary, Journeying (A Visitation Song) "For all your ways~ are beautiful . " Be with us in the morning as with joyful hearts we travel tq carry Christ within us in silence and in song. Be with us as we labor on the hills and in the valleys with your care and with your mercy to all within our world. And when evening shadows lengthen, be our strength as still we journey to our God whose arms await us in the darkness of your peace. Louise Finn CND Review for Religious THOMAS MICHEL I Interreligious Dialogue and the Jesuit Mission "All good theology is autobiography" is a phrase often repeated today. If theology is a reflection on our faith and its implications, then the personal history of how God has acted and is acting in the life of each of us is the starting point for theological understanding. Moreover, as Jesuits, it has been a part of our communitarian spirituality from the beginning to "share our desires," that is, to speak with each other about the great things we want to do for the Lord. From this starting point I would like to share the spiritual desire that has dominated my relationship with God in prayer and work for the past quarter century. It is the desire for greater understanding and love between Christians and Muslims and my desire to make a contri-bution to that end. being missioned Transformation through Dialogue As a Jesuit and a priest,I am today a product of inter-religious dialogue. The way I live my Jesuit vocation is the result of twenty-five years of sharing life with Muslims, discovering the spiritual riches they possess, learning from them, being challenged by them, and at the same time Thomas Michel SJ, secretary of the Vatican Secretariat for Interreligious Dialogue, originally presented this article as a talk to young Jesuits in both Manila and Rome. He may be addressed at Curia Generalizia; Compagnia di Ges~a; C.P. 6139; 00195 Roma PRATI; Italy. ¯ November-December 1997 Micbd ¯ Interreligious Dialogue and the ~esuit Mission having occasion both to bear witness to my faith in what God has achieved for all people in the person of Jesus Christ and to explain to them my understanding of what it means to be a disciple of Christ. In more recent years my apostolate has taken me beyond encounter with Muslims and more and more into dialogue with Jews, Hindus, Buddhists, Taoists, and the followers of indigenous religions. When I reflect on what has been going on in my life, I see God forming me and transforming me by his grace, over and over, into a person different frbm what I "alas at the beginning of my interreligious journey. I am conscious that, when I teach courses on Islam or when I speak about Muslims, what I say and how I say it are different from the words of someone who has not had my experience of coming to know the Muslim community from the inside. When someone says something tha( pu~ts down or denigrates Islam unfairly, I ~nd myself reacting spontaneously and even emotionally, because they are talking about people that I know, people who have welcomed me into their lives, people whom I love and who have shown love to me. When Muslims are insulted, I feel insulted; when they are wronged, I feel wronged; when they undergo a tragedy, I suffer with them. When something good happens to them, I rejoice with them. When Muslims do wrong, to themselves or to others, I feel ashamed and beg God's forgiveness. When real dialogue occurs, no partner is left unchanged. When I see how much God has enriched my life and deepened my faith through my being in dialogue with others, it is a great source of hope and encouragement to me. For the same Holy Spirit who has been active in my own life is also at work in the lives of my friends of other faiths, using our encounters to touch them too and transform their lives. Most of the time we do not see evidence of this. We work in hope, which is, after all, trusting that God is invisibly active in this world. But God knows that we need encouragement from time to time and gives us "feedback" to keep our hopes alive. About four years ago I received such a .response from Said Khorramshahri, a pious Iranian Qur'an reciter. I had gone to Tehran to represent the Vatican at a national function and was staying about two weeks. Said, a graduate student in English, was assigned to interpret for me at the meetings and conferences that made up my schedule. Review for Religious During this time Said and I had many opportunities to talk about all sorts of things: life in Iran and in Rome, sports, politics, music, our own personal hopes and desires~ and, of course, what is deepest in our lives--our faiths. We shared deeply and hon-estly, and I could often feel the presence of the Lord when we were in conversation. When I returned to Rome, he wrote me a long letter saying that he never imagined that God would use his encounter with a Catholic priest as the instrument by which to pro-foundly change and deepen his outlook on life, faith, and his relations with others. I real-ized that I was not the only one who recog-nized that God was present and active in our encounters. This pious Muslim also saw that God was with us and that "our hearts were burning within us" from the movement of God's grace: I offer this experience merely as an exam-ple. Every Jesuit--every Christian--who has been involved in interreligious dialogue to any extent can tell comparable stories. If my experience has been mostly with Muslims, others could testify to some strikingly similar" experiences of God's activity gathered over the course of their years in dialogue with Buddhists or Hindus, Jews or Baha'is, or followers of the tradi-tional religions of Africans or Native Americans. The point is that, when we truly open ourselves to God in dialogue with another, the Holy Spirit takes over and guides the encounter. As the document "Our Mission and Interreligious Dialogue" puts it, "Open and sincere interreligious dialogue is our cooperation with God's ongoing dialogue with humanity (OMID §5). When we truly open ourselves to God in dialogue with another, the Holy Spirit takes over and guides the encounter. The Need for a Document The document of th~ 34th General Congregation "Our Mission and Interreligious Dialogue" is remarkable. For the first time in Jesuit history, the Society as a whole explored the inter-religious dimension of our Jesuit mission. Certainly, there were always some Jesuits who were involved in various forms of inter-religious dialogue. For a few it was their main apostolate, but for most it was something in which they were involved when they Novetnber-Dece~nber 1997 Michel ¯ Interreligious Dialogue and the ~esuit Mission had extra time, an apostolate they added on to their main duties. Dialogue was often considered a kind of luxury in the Society, of secondary importance to works such as schools, seminary and theological education, parishes. It frequently happened that stu-dents who were interested in carrying out studies on other reli-gions were assigned to other, "more important" fields of study like Scripture, theology, and philosophy. Most of us .involved in dialogue have had the experience of hearing a fellow Jesuit tell us we were wasting our time. "Why do you bother with Muslims?" I have been asked; "you will never convert them." Some comments have seemed to presume that interreligious dialogue and proclamation of the gospel are incom-patible activities, or that dialogue somehow undermined or com-promised the church's mission of evangelization. These questions show that the goal of dialogue was not well understood. It was confused with a type of soft sell, a way to insinuate ourselves into another religious community in order to make converts, or it was seen as a lack of commitment to bear witness to our Christian faith. Dialogue and PrOclamation One of the first issues that the general congregation had to take up was the way int.erreligious dialogue is related to the work of evangelization. It is in this context that the goal of dialogue can be understood. In the one evangelizing mission that Christ gave to his disciples, dialogue and proclamation of the gospel are two distinct aspects. Neither can replace the other. "They should not be confused, manipulated, or regarded as identical, as though they were interchangeable" (OMID, §7). Just as dialogue is not meant to replace proclamation of the gospel, so the duty to pro-claim the gospel must never preempt or negate the work of engag-ing in dialogue. The document describes dialogue as "a new way of being church," in which we discover the "deeper dimensions of our Christian faith and wide~ horizons of God's salvific presence in the world" and engage in activity that "grasps the deeper truth and meaning of the mystery of Christ in relation to the universal his-tory of God's self-revelation" (OMID, §7). What this dense the-ological statement means is that God is at work in the lives of all those who sincerely seek him and that sometimes God's grace Review for Religious produces anyplace in the world people of great holiness, gen-erosity, and love. God carries out this saving work among people of other faiths through the Holy Spirit, who makes use of the religious tradi-tions that people follow to lead them farther and farther along the path of true holiness. Sometimes a person's knowledge of God's saving work in Jesu's Christ precedes: the person is bap-tized and receives the fullness of the Holy Spirit. More often the Holy Spirit precedes people's knowledge of Christ. There is no contradiction here: it is the One God who is at work, whether in Christ'or in the Spirit. Quoting the bishops of Asia, the GC34 document says: "It is the same Spirit, who has been active in the incarnation, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus and in the church, who was active amongst all peoples before the incarnation and is active amongst the nations, religions, and peoples today." We see, then, that the deepest motivation for dialogue is to recognize the Spirit of God wherever the Spirit is at work in the world today and to praise God for the generous action of the Spirit. When we meet Muslims, Buddhists, Sikhs, and others who bear the fruits of the Holy Spirit in their lives, our reaction should be to praise and thank God. Time spent with sincere believers of other faiths is time spent in discovery of the many and varied fruitsalove, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, gentleness, faithfulness, self-control--~at the Spirit continues to produce in the lives of other believers. Four Types of Dialogue and Their Goals "Interreligious dialogue," as the document points out, is not one thing, and the document outlines four basic types of dialogue. The goal of each type is not exactly the same. The dialogue of life is a dialogue on the plane of being, and the goal i~ living together in peace, mutually enriching each other by bearing witness to the values we stand for. The dialogue of action is on the plane of doing--working together to oppose whatever enslaves and degrades people, defending the weak, accompanying the poor in their struggle for justice. Its goal is to build together societies formed in accord with the will of God and in reverence for human dignity. An example of the dialogue of religious experience is what was going on during my time with Said in Iran. The goal is for those November-December 1997 Michel ¯ Interreligious Dialogue and the ~esuit Mission in such dialogue to open themselves fully .to God's movements (God's personal history in the life of each person) so that the Spirit can use them to touch and transform the persons. The dialogue of theological'exchange is to .clarify points of con-vergence and divergence, to overcome misunderstandings, half-truths, and distortions, and to come to a greater appreciation of each other's spiritual values (OMID, §4). It is not meant to arrive at a common formulation, to gloss over the differences between religions, or to find a common denominator on which we can all agree. The irreconcilable differences that we discover should nei-ther surprise nor discourage us, since we acknowledge from the start that each religion, is unique and offers its particular com-plex of doctrines and way of life. Dialogue in Patience and Hope If dialogue is about love (OMID, §6), then it is by examining the qualities of love that we learn the attitudes that must accom-pany our efforts at dialogue. In his great hymn on love in the First Letter to the Corinthians, St. Paul lists some of the qualities of love. It is. significant that the first quality on Paul's list is patience: "Love is patient, kind . oIt is important to spend time reflecting on the quality of patience, because lack of patience, in my opinion, is one of .the great causes of failure in dialogue. Patience includes more than not looking for quick results. I would rather say, "Do not look for results at all." In the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna tells Arjuna, "Do your duty conscientiously, and do not be concerned about suc-cess or failure?' We might paraphrase this advice by saying that the document "Our Mission and Interreligious Dialogue~' challenges Jesuits to "throw yourselves into this activity, without counting the cost or trying to measure the results." We engage in dialogue because it is our duty as disciples of Christ. As the OMID document puts it, dialogue is an integral element of our Jesuit mission in the world. We are people of hope, .one of the three greatest gifts that God has given us. We work in the hope that God will use our efforts in a way pleasing to God to advance the comingof God's reign in the world. Sometimes we hear people say, "What have you accomplished after all these years of dialogue? There are still religious tensions, ,conflicts, and wars." Review for Religious ~ The same could be said of other aspects of our mission. Those working for justice know that--despite years and years of tireless effort, sacrifices, even martyrdoms, despite vast amounts of time and energy spent--we are still confronted with countless forms of -injustice, oppression, and exploitation in the world. Recent years have even produced new forms. The occasional victories seem few in comparison with the rampant injustices still existing in almost every society. Does this mean that all those efforts at building more just societies have been in vain? No, we recognize ~that we have to keep on struggling in every age, culture, and nation to oppose injustice and defend the oppressed and marginalized. , It-is a similar case with interreligious dia-logue. At the same time that relations between the followers of various religions become better in one place, new conflicts and tensions break out elsewhere. Regions that have had long tra-ditions of people living together in peace sud-denly find themselves enmeshed in religious wars. On the other hand, reconciliation does occur where there has been conflict. People do learn to forgive and move beyond the past. Some peo-ples do find, often through much painful searching and with many setbacks, ways to live together with their neighbors of other faiths. We have all inherited two attitudes that make the effort at dialogue more difficult: One is the modern business ethic of quick and concrete results. In business, people feel they do not have time to wait. If they do not get the job done and done fast, a com-petitor will get an edge on them. People have graphs and tables .and prbjections to show how soon they can expect results. If they fail to achieve them in the time allotted, they go back to the draw-ing board to revise their policies. But it does not work that way with human relations. Things take time, and our efforts may be building a basis of fellowship whose benefits can be seen only in the future. The second attitude that makes dialogue difficult is an attitude of historical optimism that has dominated the philosophy of his-tory in this century. In this view, humankind, through education and technology, is continually evolving towards greater maturity, openness, and well-being. Obscurantism, ignorance, and violence are characteristics of primitive society and bound to be super- We engage in dialogue because it is ourduty as disciples of Christ. November-December 1997 Michel ¯ Interreli~ous Dialogue and the Jesuit Mission seded. In interreligious terms, many Catholics saw the period of the Second Vatican Council as a time when the old religious con-flicts would become a thing of the past. Dialogue would be the instrument of an inevitable result, putting an end to the misun-derstandings and divisions that kept us apart. Patience and Dialogue It seems to me that, if we Jesuits are going to make a contri-bution towards greater interreligious harmony, we must have a more realistic attitude. Dialogue will not solve all the religious conflicts in the world, just as our struggle for justice will never put an end to all forms of injustice and oppression. Rather, dialogue is something that must be carried on in every, society, in every age. Understanding and respect must be built anew in every gen-eration. The challenge will never come to an end, because sin is a part of who we are as humans and, where there is sin, there will be suspicion, hatred, and conflict. The need for patience is not only seen at the macro level of societies and nations. It is also the case in our personal dealings with people of other religions. We are all so full of suspicions, fears, and preconceptions. It takes much rime to get beyond these, to break down the natural resistance that we all bring to dialogue. If people seem unwilling, indifferent, or even hostile to invita-tions to dialogue, we should not be surprised. The burden of his-tory that we all bear is an obstacle that cannot be overcome quickly. We should also not be surprised if dialogue encounters seem superficial or seem to be characterized by an insincere politeness. This indicates that a level of trust at which we can relate hon-estly and deeply has not yet been built. That too takes time and much patient effort. We human beings are not willing to share what is deepest in our lives with people whom we are not yet ready to trust. Until we are convinced that the others will .treat our sharing with due respect, we tend to keep things at a nonthreat-ening, surface level. Only through the slow and laborious pro-cess of forming friendships and building trust do we arrive at the point where people can break through their latent distrust to begin to share frankly and honestly. But, if we Christians are motivated by Christ's love, we will find the determination and perseverance we need, for; as St.Paul says, "Love is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes.?' Review for Religious I mention these negative factors, the effects of sin, because interreligious dialogue, although an exciting adventure of dis-covery of the manifold ways in which God lavishes his grace upon humankind, is also a path on which we encounter obstacles, set-backs, and frustrations and painful forms of self-discovery as well. When we are rebuffed, it is not easy to forgive. When we are misunderstood, it is not easy to go back again and again. When confronted with our own limitations and those of our commu-nity, we are tempted to give it all up and retreat to easier ways of life. However, as Jesuits we have a source of strength that we did not have even four years ago. We have the commitment of our whole Society--of our friends in the Lordmto engage in this aspect of our mission. We are helped to do so by our Ignatian vision that comes from our personal relationship to Jesus Christ. We are urged by the 34th General Congregation to develop a "culture 'of dialogue in our approach to believers of other reli-gions that should become a distinctive characteristic of our Society, sent into the whole world to labor for the greater glory of God and the help of human persons" (OMID, § 17), ' What a tremendous ideal to live for! What a challenge we have set for ourselves! ~Ours is the .generation, living immediately after and formed by General Congregation 34, that can make its document "Our Mission and Interreligious Dialogue" a vibrant part of our Jesuit mission in the world. Many foreign missionaries depend upon,people like you who donate subscriptions for them to Review for Religious. To start a subscription for a deserving missionary, please send $24 to: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Blvd. ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108 To pay by credit card, phone: 314-977-7363. November-December 1997 ANNETTE M. PELLETIER Misery Meets Mystery in Montenegro: A Survival Guide for North American Religious oes consecrated life possess the latent power to continue evangelizing North American culture? Current literature on the topic suggests that the "holy experiment" of founding a culture on evangelical values has turned ominously unholy. The pioneer barks that brought (he Pilgrims, Quakers, and Shakers are saidto be aimlessly adrift, having lost their orientation to the Holy. On the other hand, the heritage of integration evident in the cultures in the Southern Hemisphere, where Santa Fe (Holy Faith) was the principal colonizing feature, suggests the power of the sacred to perdure despite a history marked by gore as well as glory. Upon returning to the United States after a time of mission-ary experience in the cultures to the south, one senses how deep the ache for the Sacred is in North American culture. The pro'- gressive deconstruction of the core values and virtues that made the experiment holy suggests that our culture may have lost its. :heart.~ ',Although you express tous what is most precious to you, you do not realize how far we are from where you are," remarks Fred, Henri Nouwen's "world!y" friend for whom he composed his profound reflections, on what it means to be the beloved chil- ~ren of the Holy,G~od present in secular culture. "You speak from Annette M. Pelletier IHM c0nsid~rs this article, following upon her 'contributions to our Septembe~:-October 1993 and July-August 1994 issues, to be the conclusion of a trilogy on Mystery in relation to conse-crated life. She may be addressed at Convento Santa Rosa de Lima; E. Montenegro; Apartado 18-0703; Lima 11, Peru. Review for Religious a context and tradition that is alien to us . Many, many questions need: to be answered before we are able to be fully open to what you say about the life of the Beloved.''2 What is to be the role of us who are called, consecrated, and sent to proclaim such "belovedness" in this deconsecrated world; of us whose specific task it is to offer radical eschatological testi-mony of the coming of the kingdom? 3 Peter, a designated, author-itative witness of that kingdom (realized 'in the presence and per-son of Jesus), reminded his early Christian community "to always be ready to give a reason for their hope" (1 P 3:15). What, then, would be the reason for our hope that the consecrated life will con-tinue to exert a positive influence on a heart-less culture, one that seems no longer to have experience of the "Holy"? The "reason" for my hope. for not just the survival bat the flourishing of consecrated life in North America escapes the concrete directions suggested by the many and various scientific analyses of consecrated life that appear fis part of a search for a definitive future, The "reason" for my hope springs from what I and many oth-ers have "seen and heard" (1 Jn 1:3) of the Mystery of God made manifest in the misery of the absolute poverty in one of our sis-ter cultures in Latin America, Peru. Montenegro, a densely pop-ulated pueblojoven or asentamiento humano (shanty town) situated about forty-five minutes by bus from Lima, owes its misery to both Shining Path terrorism and the disastrous effects of "fujishock" economics on those who have fled from terrorism in the Peruvian sierra during the last decade. No sociological anal-ysis explains why the pueblo children still danced for the fiestas in their school, Fey Alegria 37, and the sisters and the teachers and families stuck together in hope despite the extreme poverty and the designation of the zone as "red" during the darkest days of the reign of terror.4 One "reason" for hope, then, can be the simple fact that this pueblo and its fragile institutions have survived, despite the unholy One "reason" for hope, then, can be the simple fact that this pueblo and its fragile institutions have survived, despite the unholy cultural influences of terrorism and hunger. November-December 1997 Pelletier ¯ Misery Meets Mystery in Montenegro cultural influences of terrorism and hunger. Here is hard:evi-dence, provided by real people who survived' to live, instead of living to merely survive. The madres solteras (single mothers) who raise children of partners who abandon them for another; the youth who are old before they have a chance to be young; the knot of little children who play on the step of the mission-house door--none of these Montenegro dnawim have access to analyt-ical research charting their survival or demise. They simply live their reality, struggling to survive, struggling to find. meaning. Without the luxury of an education, they meet Mystery in their misery on Mystery's 6wn terms. Even though most of them will never really better their lot in life according to North American standards, they seem not to have lost. the reason for their hope. Yes, large numbers may eventually resort or succumb to every vice that a culture of absolute poverty provokes. Yet there :are those who do survive with their dignity as human beings intaci:. Who are they? How are they able to survive? What do they have to say to the religious missioned to the first world, who also seek to survive, but in a culture whose very richness impoverishes the attractiveness, the beauty, the dignity, and the grace of a way of life in love with Life itself?. Could the observation ofMircea Eliade, the famed scholar of religious anthropology, be true: that the evo-lution of modern cultures has generated an atmosphere of intel-lectual elitism in which detachment from the patterns of traditional religion severs Western culture from its core values and belief systems? 5 So what recourse do persons consecrated to the Holy have if they are to survive the consequences of Western culture's demise? The Word had a special word for the religiously lettered and learned Who came by night to ask him questions about signs seen hinting the advent of a new world within the world. To the Nicodemus-like, Jesus counseled that the lettered and the elite turn and become like a child. Anyone privileged to see, hear, and touch the children who, despite the misery of their absolute poverty and the scourge of terrorism, sing and dance in the desert cannot help marveling at the mystery of their "unreasonable" rea-. son to hope. What do they, the "little ones," the ones immersed in the misery of absolute poverty, have to say about the mystery of their survival? Could it be that their link to traditional popu-lar religion provides them with the treasure which cultures to the north have lost: a reason for hope?6 , Review for Religious Who are these ragtag "children of the dust" gathered on the luxurious slab of cement gracing the mission-house front door? From early in the morning until late in the night, this mob of ragamuffins never seems to wonder about "survival," despite the dubious nature of their next meal. They do not have time to worry. They are obviously too busy creatively constructing their own livable-in-the-now reality. The ever plentiful stones and rocks are transformed in,their imagination to sports cars and trucks. Rags and bits of scrap paper adorn a gringa-faced "Barbie" in highest fashion. So actively engaged in living life to the hilt, these tawny tots are too busy having fun to be concerned about surviving. Sure, they are hungry and ill clad. By our standards they are woefully abused by family systems that claim "the more I beat you, the more I love you." But they are too resiliently cre-ative to let abuse or malnutrition get in the way of living. The ".proper7 things they deserve as fundamental rights--healthcare, education, food--hardly get a thought. One hesitates to say it, but, to almost every visitor, these kids on the step are definitely having fun. Their joy, laughter, unsuppressible desire to befriend anyone, especially foreigners visiting the mission house, betrays the secret entry of Mystery into their absolute misery. Their grasp on an unseen reason for their hope renders ridiculous the first-world worries about where God and religion and the church might fit in a deconstructed culture. "Multiphrenia" is one malaise the Montenegrinos never get. The inner' chaos caused by too much input from too many conflicting media sources promoting ever changing values is a postmodern misery they miss.7 Take, for example, ten-year-old Lorenzo, a victim of his father's abuse. Every so often Lorenzo is whacked in the face. with an iron pipe for not bringing in his share of the family keep. How could little Lorenzo, every visitor's fast friend, keep smiling, jest-ing, and joking despite the ugly scarson his ever dirty face? The Mystery of God peeks through his misery in his nonconcern for predictable "survival." That unerasable smile insists that God's Mystery is manifest even in this most undeserved misery. Just what is it that keeps that smile on his face--and so many others like his!--in this desert valley of so many, many tears? Does his smile betray a reason to hope that we cannot, yet, see? These stepkids also deal with the reality of too few resources and personnel to assure them of a viable future. Most children are without parents until late in the night, when Mom or Dad or November-December 1997 Pelletier ¯ Misery Meets Mystery in Montenegro live-in mate come

Issue 29.4 of the Review for Religious, 1970. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to I~EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63to3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 3at Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania tgxo6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical appro,'al by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri ¯ 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright ~) 1970 by REVIEW FOR RELtO~OUS at 428 East Preston Street~ Baltimore, Mary* land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at additional mailing offices. Single copies: $1.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two years; other countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to p~rsons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, where a~eom-panied by a remittance, should be scat to REvz8w ~oa RE~m~ous; P. O. ~x 671; Bahimo~, Ma~land 21203. Changes of addr~, b~n~ co~es~nd~ce, and orders ~t a~¢ompanitd ~ a rtmittanee should be ~t tO REVIEW ~R RELIGIOUS ; 428 East ~eston St~t; BMfmo~. Ma~land 21202. Manu~ripts. ~ito~al cor- ~s~ndence, and ~ks for ~iew should ~ sent to R~v~w ~oa R~m~ous; 612 Hum~ldt Building; 539 North Grand ~ul~ard; Saint ~uis, Mi~u~ 63103. Qu~dons for answering should be s~t to the add~ of the Qu~fio~ and ~we~ ~tor. JULY 1970 VOLUME 29 NUMBER4 MOTHER MARY FRANCIS, P.C.C. Creative Spiritual Leadership If we are going to talk about creative leadership, we shall first of all want to clarify what we mean by leader-ship and what we mean by creative. That these are not self-evident terms or even pr~sen.tly readily understand-able terms should be obvious from an imposing current witness to creative leadership envisioned as an abolition of leadership, and a transversion of creativity into annihi-lation. While it is true enough that, theologically ~and philosophically speaking, annihilation is as great an act as creation, hopefully we do not analogically conceive of our goal in leadership as being equally well attained by annihilation or by creativityl As God's creativity is to cause to be, something that was not, our creativity as superiors who are quite noticeably not divine, is to allow something that is, to become. As a matter of fact, we assume a responsibility to do this by accepting the office of superior. Much has been and is being written and said about the superior as servant. This is so obviously her role that one wonders what all the present excitement is about. Quite evidently, Otis role, this primary expression of leadership, has been for-gotten by some superiors, even perhaps by many supe-riors, in the past. But why should we squander present time and energy in endlessly denouncing such past forget-fulness? Let us simply remember truth now, and get on with our business. One characteristic of creative leader-ship is to point a finger at the future rather than to shake a finger at the past. St. Clare wrote in her Rule more than seven hundred years .ago that the abbess must be the handmaid of all the sisters, not pausing to labor so evident a fact but simply going on to give some particulars which have a ve.ry modern ring: the abbess is to behave so affably that the sisters can speak and act toward her as toward one who serves them. That dear realist, Clare of Assisi, who Mother Mary Francis, P.C.C., is federal abbess of the Collettine Poor Clare Federation; 809 E. 19th Street;. Roswell, New Mex-ico 88201. VOLUME 29 1970 497 ÷ ÷ Mother Francis REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS passes so easily from blunt warnings about such un-monastic natural virtues as envy, vainglory, covetousness, and grumbling, to airy reminders that it is no good get-ting angry or worried about anyone's faults as this merely deals charity a still severer blow--that dear realist had obviously run up against so~ne personalities who were "handmaids" sufficiently formidable to discourage any-one's rendering them personal recognition in this area. The abbess is supposed to be lovable, for St. Clare en-visions a community where sisters obey a superior be-cause they love her and not because they dread her. This was quite a novel as well as a radical theology of superior-ship in Clare's day. And if it remains radical today, it is a great shame that it sometimes remains novel also. The medieval saint makes so much of this point of the lovable-hess of the superior that she returns to it in her dying Testament, begging her successors that they behave them-selves so that the sisters obey them not from a sense of duty but from love. It's not just the same thing she is saying again, however. You note that whereas in the Rule she does not want any fear or dread of the superior, in the Testament she rules out dutifulness as well. It has got to be a matter of love itself. Who, after all, would want to be loved out of a sense of duty? It would be in-suiting, really. Any normal superior would rather be loved in spite of herself than because of her office. St. Clare makes quite a point in her brief Rule and Testament of describing the manifestations of this lovableness she so insists upon. She gives us her idea of creative leadership. And its present practicability may make us want to pause and clear our throats before the next time we utter that bad word, "medievalism," as an indictment. Besides the general affability which Clare describes in Rule and Testament, she underscores an availability rather beyond and considerably more profound than the "let's sit down in the cocktail lounge and talk about salvation history" mentality. St. Clare wants an on-site superior who is "so courteous and affable" (there's that word again) that the sisters can tell her their troubles and need~, seek her out "at all hours" with serene trust and on any account,--their own or their sisters'. This last point is particularly arresting, considering again that this is a medieval abbess delineating the characteristics of a creative superior as she conceived those characteristics in about 1250, not a 1970 progressive-with-a-message. Clare did not favor isolationism in community. Each of her nuns was supposed to notice that there were other nuns around. And she called them sisters, which was quite original in her day. She favored coresponsibility quite a while before the 1969 synod of bishops, taking it for granted that the abbess was not to be the only one concerned for the good of the community, but that it belongs to the nature of being sisters that each has a lov-ing eye for the needs of all the others. Again, there is her famous saying: "And if a mother love and nurture he~ daughter according to the flesh, how much the more ought a sister to love and nurture her sister according to the spiritl" Yes, it does seem she ought. And maybe we ought to be as medieval as modern in some respects. For some medieval foundresses did an imposing amount of clear .thinking on community, on sisterliness, on the meaning of humble spiritual leadership which we, their progeny, could do well to ponder. So, there's affability, availability, accessibility. When we read St. Clare's brief writings and savor the droll confi-dences given in the process of her canonization, we can conclude that this superior often toned her sisters down but never dialed them out. Then, St. Clare insists that the creative spiritual leader be compassionate. There is no hint of a prophylactic de-tachment ~om human love and sympathy nor of that artificial austerity which pretends that to be God-oriented is to be creature-disoriented. No, Clare says of the su-perior: "Let her console the sorrowful. Let her be the last refuge of the troubled." Note, she does not tell. the contemplative daughter to work it all out with God, and that human sympathy is for sissies. And she warns that "if the weak do not find comfort at her [the abbess'] hands," they may very well be "overcome by the sadness of despair." Those are quite strong terms from a woman who did not trade on hyperboles or superlatives and was no tragedienne. Again, she has something v~ry plain and very strong to say about responsibility. For we had better not talk about coresponsibility unless we have understanding of primary responsibility. "Let her who is elected consider of what sort the burden is she has taken upon her and to whom an account of those entrusted to her is to be rendered." So, Clare will have the superior clearly under-stand that she has a definite and comprehensive responsi-bility to a particular group of people, a responsibility which is immeasurably more demanding than counting votes to determine the consensus. She is supposed to cre-ate and maintain an atmosphere in which sisters can best respond to their own call to holiness. Obviously, she can-not do this alone. But she is the one most responsible for making it possible for each sister to contribute her full share in creating and maintaining this atmosphere. She is the ,one who is particularly responsible for not just al-lowing, but helping the sisters, and in every possible way, to r~alize their own potential. ÷ ÷ ÷ Leadership VOLUME 29, 1970 499 + + + Mother Frands REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~00 If I may deliver to any possibly frustrated or depressed superiors some glad tidings out of my own small experi-ence, I beg to announce this finding: Sisters are not as hard on superiors as many dour authors make them out to be. They do not expect perfection in the superior. They are, as a matter of fact, quite ready to pass over the most obvious faults and failures in the superior as long as they know she loves them and would do anything in the world for them, and is herself struggling along with them to "walk before God and be perfect," and having just as hard a time as they with this quite exacting but certainly thrilling divine program. Isn't it, after all, singularly ex-hilarating to have been asked by a God who has witnessed all one's past performances, to be perfect as He is perfect[ But that is an aside of sorts. The point I was making is that sisters will sooner forgive the faults of the warm-hearted than the "perfection" of the coldhearted. At least that is my personal observation. It is not faults that alienate people, it is phoneyness. And may it always alienate them, for it is nothing to make friends with. Now, if the superior is set to create and to make it possible for the sisters to help create an atmosphere suited to the response to a divine call to holiness, this atmog-phere will have to be one of real human living. For the only way a human being can be holy is by being a holy human being. I believe one of the more heartening signs of our times is the accent on humanness. For one of our tiredest heresies is the proposal that the less human we are, the more spiritual we are. Another aside I am tempted to develop here is a reflection on how we describe only one type of behavior as inhuman. We never attribute that dread adjective to the weak, hut only to the cruel. .But I had better get on with what I was saying, which is that dehumanized spirituality is no longer a very popular goal. This is all to the good. However, we shall want to be sure when we talk enthusiastically about the present ac-cent on real human living in religious life that the quali-fying "real" is not underplayed. It needs rather to be underscored. Certainly we would evince a genuine poverty of thought to equate real human living with ease. On the other hand, there is evidently a direct ratio between sacrificial living and real human fulfillment, between poor, obedient living and joy, between ritual and liberty, between the common task and real (as opposed to con-trived) individuality. Genuine common living in reli-gious life is not the witness of the club, but of the com-munity. Its real proponents are not bachelor girls, but women consecrated to God as "a living sacrifice holy and pleasing to God." Our blessed Lord emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant. And no one yet has ever been fulfilled by any other process than kenosis. Beginning with the Old Testament, history affords us a widescreen testimony to the truth of the binding and liberating power of sacrifice. It binds the individuals in a community together, and it liberates both individuals and the community as such into the true and beautiful expression of self-ness which is what God envisioned when He saw that each of His creations was very good. History shouts at us that self-ness is not a synonym but an antonym for selfishness. May we have ears to hearl Just as nothing so surely situates persons in isolationism as establishing a mystique of ease and a cult of comfort, so does nothing so surely both promote and express genuine community as sacrificial action, whether liturgical or do-mestic. This generation feels it has come upon the glori-ous new discovery that the world is good. It is indeed a glorious discovery, but not a new one. St. Francis, for one, discovered this in the thirteenth century. But if joyous Francis owned the world, it was precisely because he never tried to lease it. It is essential that the creative superior be a living reminder that our situation in time is not static but dy-namic, our involvement in the world urgent but not ulti-mate, our service of others indicative rather than deter-minative, and our earthly life not a land-lease but a pilgrimage. Somewhere or other I recently read that the one good line in a new play whose name I happily can-not now recall is the one where a character looks at a plush-plush apartment hotel and remarks: "If there is a God, this is where he lives." I seem to detect a bit of this mentality in some of our experimentation. This would be only mildly disturbing if it pertained to the kind of luxuriousness that keeps periodically turning up in his-tory until a new prophet-saint arrives on the scene to de-nounce it and expunge it from the local roster. What is deeply disturbing is that we are sometimes uttering brave and even flaming words about identifying with the poor at the same time that we are rewriting just this kind of past history. But that is another small aside from the large issue, which is real human living and the sacrificial element that is one of the most unfailing preservatives of that "real" in human living. The material poverty and inconvenience just alluded to is but a minor facet of the idea, but I do think it is a facet. Do any of us lack personal experience to remind us that the poorest communities are usually the happiest? Nothing bores like surfeit, nothing divides like ease. If it is true--and it is!--that the religious community does not rightly understand its vocation unless it sees it-self as part of the whole ecclesial community, the cosmic VOLUME 29, 1970 50! + ÷ ÷ Mother Frands REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS community, it is equally true (because it is the same truth turned around) that the religious community will be to the ecclesial community and the cosmic community only What it is to itself and in itself. The creative leader will want to accent this to her sisters so that they can accent it to one another. Not verbally. Just vitallyl we shall be to the Church and to the world only what we are to each other, no more and no less. And what we are to each other will inevitably serve the Church and th~ world. Every superior is called to be a prophet. Perhaps we could even say that this is her highest creative service in allowing and assisting others to realize their potential and release their own creative energies. Now that we are all nicely educated to understand that the prophet is not the one who foretells the future so much as the one who says something about the present, the creative superior's prophet role becomes not only clear but uncomfortable. Jeremiah would doubtless have had a much higher popu-larity rating if he had limited his observations to a pleas-ant, "Shaloml" It is so much easier to say "Shalom" than to say "Do penance, or you shall all perish." Of course, it is best of all to prophesy both penance and peace, but we shall have to keep them in that order. And our own ef-forts to achieve that real human living which has to be rooted in penance and sacrifice give abundant testimony that peace is indeed a consequence of penance performed in love, of sacrifice as a choice of life style rather than just a choice among things. Obviously, obedience is the profoundest expression of sacrifice. And maybe one of the biggest mistakes that eventuated into that maternalism in religious communi-ties which has had us running such high temperatures in recent press years, is that of supposing that obedience is for subjects only. Allow me another aside to interject here another small idea I have been nurturing. It is, that "subjects" is a very poor word substitute for "sisters" and of itself precipitates a whole theological misconception of what and who a superior is. Subjects are persons ruled over. However, a servant does not rule. We need to get rid of the monarchical connotations of "subject." And if we begin by getting rid of the term "subject," we may be already better equipped to understand that the superior, as servant, is the first "abject.in the house of the Lord." Once we establish her as abject, we shall perhaps be less ready to label her "reject." A creative superior will have to excel in obedience. It is part of her role as prophet. She must obey others' needs at their specified time according to their manner and manifestations. She must respond not just to the insights God gives her, but to those He gives her sisters. She should obey their true inspirations as well as her own. She ought to be obedient to the very atmosphere she has helped the sisters to create. For we can never establish a communal modus vivendi and then sit back to enjoy it. Life, like love, needs constant tending. Life needs living as love needs loving. This very thing is essential to crea-tive leadership. Charity is a living thing and, therefore, it is always subject to fracture, disease, enfeeblement, paralysis, atrophy, and death. The prophet is more called to procla!m this truih and to disclaim offenses against this truth than to wear a LUV button on her lapel. It is much easier to waste a LUV banner at a convention than to tend and nurture love in those thousand subtle ways and by those myriad small services for which womanhood is specifically designed, in which religious women should excel, and to which religious superiors are twice called. Real human living which the creative superior is called to promote, can never be anything but spiritual, sacri-ficial, intelligently obedient, and--yes---transcendental. We need not be wary of the word or the concept. The new accent on horizontalism is well placed, for many of us seem to have got a stiffening of the spiritual spine with past concentration on verticalarity. Still, if we adopt a completely horizontal mentality, we are apt to drift off to sleep as concerns genuine spiritual values. After all, the position is very conducive to sleep. We are most fully human when we are vertical. Yes, we reach out horizontally, but our face is upturned to Heaven. The really lovely paradox is that it is only when our eyes are upon God that we are able to see those around us and recognize their needs. They are, after all, each of them "in the secret of His Face." It is a vital serv-ice of creative leadership that it emphasize the essentiality of the transcendental element in real human living. In fact, we could more accurately talk of the transcendental character of full human living than of any transcendental element. The term of our d~stiny is not on earth. There-fore, we shall never rightly evaluate anything that per-tains to earthly existence unless we see it or are attempt-ing to see it from an eternal perspective. And we shall never really live humanly unless we are living spiritually. Certainly we shall never have a religious community that abounds in warm human affection and mutual concern unless it is a religious community concerned primarily with the kingdom of God. We can properly focus on one another only when we are focused on God. For to be fully human is to share in what is divine: "He has made us partakers of His divinity." The most natural superior is, therefore, the most super-natural. And real human living must be based on a val- 4- VOLUME 29, 1970 503 Mother Francis REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ues system that is transcendental. In these days one need scarcely look far afield to discover what becomes of com-munity when the values system is not transcendental. A group of individual women, each doing her thing, is' by no means the same as a community which has a thing to do. To such a community, each sister brings her own creative contribution, and in it each realizes her creative potential. And a servant of creativity is needed for all this. There is much more to be said about creative leader-ship, and others are equipped to say it much better. One can only speak out of one's own experience and with one's own limitations. However, it has been my observa-tion that cloister6d living does offer a certain insight into humanity which is sometimes different from that of per-sons whose professional qualifications doubtless exceed those of the cloistered nun. It's quite predictable, really. We ought to anticipate expertise in human living from those who have chosen to achieve human living in such close quarters. We should expect some spec~ial insights into humanity from those who see it at such dose range and on such limited acreage. So perhaps these simple thoughts may have some small point to niake. Let me add, then, only a final word about the realiza-tion of creativity and about the full expression of human living. We've talked about sacrifice, penance, obedience, transcendentalism. Recently, our sisters ran up against an example of a truly fulfilled human being. This was a priest in his seventies. At thirty, he'd got drunk. And a ,series of really devilish events conspired to turn that one mistake into a tragedy for which he was not responsible. He was used by bigots, manipulated by the circumstances they precipitated, and he was deprived of his priestly faculties. He sought help from his bishop who said it was all very sad, but he really could not do anything. He took it to Rome and got put in a file because, though it was all very sad, there was no canon to cover it. He turned to fellow priests who agreed it was all very sad, but they were very busy and there was nothing they could do about it. (I am very rejoiced to report that one Franciscan ~riar did try, desperately, to help.) No priest ever had more provocation to bitterness. He was the example classique of being treated as a number and not as a person. So, who could blame him that he wrote such vitriolic articles after he left the Church? Anyone could understand his contempt for the hierarchy. And when he sneered at the Roman Curia, you could only say that, after all, he had really had it. Only, the fact is, he did not leave the Church, nor did he write vitriolic articles, nor did he sneer. For forty years he lived the obscure life Of a workingman. He went to Mass each day. And he persevered in faith. God crowned that faith with exoneration of the past and the restoration of sacerdotal privileges only after~ forty years, but one can speculate on the interior crowning when one knows that this priest now offers dally Mass w~th tears that are neither self-pitying nor bitterly s~lding. He's just happy. He's just grateful. And he has obviously ex-perienced more personal fulfilment than any[of the local protestors, for he is beautiful to behold. And this is not to say that wrongs don't m~tter or that protests should never be lodged. It is merely] to offer for consideration the evidence of what suffering]and silence and unshakable faith can do in the line of creating a .I fully realized human being. Maybe supengrs need to point.up these things a little more than some] of us some-times do. ! I am scribbling some of this manuscript ag I watch at the bedside of a dying sister of ours. It's my !first experi-ence as abbess with death. And somehow all reflections on religious life, on community, on leadership, ~n creativity are turned upon this one deathbed in this one small cell. I lind it a very revealing perspective. Sister l~as a way of pointing at the ceiling regularly. And whdn you ask: "What do you see? What is there?" she does ~ot check in with a "vision." She just says: "Joyl" That is the direction to seek for it, if you want to lind it on earth. 4. VOLUME 29, 1970 JOHN D. KELLER, O.S.A. Some Observations on Religious Formation and Spirituality John D. Keller, O.S.A., is the rector of the Augustinian Study House; 3771 East Santa Rosa Road; Camarillo, California 93010. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS There has been a great deal written and great amounts of private and public discussion on the subject of religious formation and spirituality in recent years. I hesitate, therefore, to add to an already prolonged dialogue. But I am encouraged to submit these observations to the wider review of the readership of this journal quite simply be-cause they are not those of an onlooker or expert but of a p.articipant.1 And they are not springing from the mem-ories (be they good or bad) of one person's own period of formation. I write as a member of a large diocesan seminary col-lege faculty and as rector of a small house of studies in which and out of which both clerical and non-clerical candidates are living life in community and preparing for the active ministry. I am not an expert, am not a scholar: I write not as sociologist or statistician or psy-chologist. I have a short memory as regards my own semi-nary and religious formation; with it I am not dissatisfied. For the past three and a half years I have been involved in establishing and guiding a rather minor innovation in the religious formation of candidates for my own order. For this lack of expertise I make no apologies for, I would judge, it is well that we hear more from those who come from the land of untidy students, not neat theory. It is a land where individuals correspond to no profile and frequently, alas, do not respond to the analyses and predictions of the community position paper makers. There is frequently quite a distance between theory and reality, between the goals and philosophy and plans of 1 This ~rticle is adapted from a talk given at the annual meeting of R~gion V (Western) of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men in Honolulu, Hawaii, November 3-5, 1969. community study groups and their implementation: pro-posed causes do not always neatly bring abdut their pro-posed effects. My intention is not to rehearse what is ~already (per-haps painfully so) known to you: Houses of formation, as the Church, are in a time of change, innovaltion, and ex-perimentation; initiative, Eersonal choice, ",apostolic ex-periences, questioning, persbnal growth, widening of re-sponsibilities, psychological, counseling ard all on the upswing and have occasion,ed, along with other realiza-tions and "discoveries," chafiges and propose~d changes in religious formation and approaches to th~ life of the Spirit. ' I would like to discuss some observations'I have made ¯ in living with and working with candidates and at the same time indicate the dire'ction of my thl~nking. Father Cuyler's recent report for CARA indicdtes that my thoughts are not without companyfl but there are cer-tainly many points of view. My experience i~ with college age candidates for a men's religious fxatern~ty, but these observations seem applicable in most cases ~o women re-ligious as well. I have grotiped my remarkS¯ under these three headings: the candidates; "format"lon~ ; and spirit-ual life. The Candidates It is axiomatic that our candidates are prgducts of our times. They are articulate; they have been ra,ised on visual media; many come from un'settled home cofiditions; they I are casual in their convers~ttion concermng sexual mat-ters; they respect honesty tb a high degree;' yet they are frequently infected with the cynicism which is prevalent in our society; and like youth of every age they are strug-gling with the personal resolution of the~ discrepancy between ideals and reality.,, ' A study of statistics indicates the number ~of candidates is lower than most of us hi~ve, perhaps been accustomed Io o to. What is most difficult t~ make a determination on is whether or not the quahty is better or, worse. Optt-mists have suggested that we have fewer candidates, but they are of better "quality'(--whatever that! might mean. Optimist or not, my observations are threefold: (1) Many candidates are coming forward with far less "background" as regards their prior religious formation than before. There are fewer presuppositions we might make as regards their general religious belief and prac-tices prior to their becoming.candidates for~ the religious life. The same may be said as regards their family train- I g Cornelius M. Cuyler, S.S., The Changing Direction o] thv Semi-nary Today (Washington: CARA, 1969). .I-÷ ÷ VOLUME 2% 197'0 ]. D Keller REVIEW FOR R[ LIGIOUS ing with regard to manners, use of time, their study habits, recreation, family life style, family authority roles, and so forth. These facts are facts of experience. It is not to say, necessarily, that life in community will be more difficult; but it does say that the trend toward longer pe-riods of probation and orientation is called for. There is a great deal that has to be "got used to." And we must be very patient. As regards background, there is a certain ambivalence in many candidates from another quarter. They are af-fected by a certain "image-lag." The monastic and tradi-tional concepts of priest and religious are still frequently present to the man considering seeking admittance to the religious life. Yet, for the most part, the candidate meets not the bell and cowl, but the call to be his own man and shirtsleeves. The men quickly adjust and very soon one-up us with their call for sandals and beards, but this is a crucial point for many as one image dissolves and the search for a new and more realistic one takes place. Candidates must be taken as they are and from where they are. The need at the moment, as perhaps it was also in the days of our own formation period, is for tremen-dous amounts of firm patience. (2) A second observation on our candidates: They ap-pear to me to be no more nor no less generous than other persons of other times and other places and in other walks of life whom I have known. To oversell their generosity at the offset is to provide the seedbed for the bitterness and resentment toward our new members which is sometimes disturbingly present both among men in the houses of formation and superiors of communities. Our candidates are aspirants--aspiring toward the ideal of Christ's generosity--but they are frequently selfish, their motivation (like ours) is not always 100% pure. And so in the proposing of our programs and in the formulation of policy, we want no penal colony; we do not want to poison the well of our trust in the possibility of doing good with a Lud~eran conception of man's ne'er-do-well nature, but we must accept the fact that selfishness and ignorance do coexist with a man's desire to make a gift of his service and of himself. High ideals coupled with selfish or inconsistent behavior do form a part of the men who wish to join our fraternities. This should not cause alarm: To help resolve this is one of the reasons for their being in training. (3) Our candidates, generally, come 'with the intent of joining in with us. They do want to be a part of what is going on in the religious family. A delicate process must be going on in which the men do feel that they are mem-bers of the fraternity according to their present commit-ment. They must be exposed to the community's mere- bership; join in (in differenlt capacities) the work of the fraternity; be closely linked with the style of life and values of the community. But at the same ume their in-volvement must not be too rapid: predetermined patterns and strong identification with the status quo might cancel out the fresh and renewing insights and contnbutxons of young members; premature inclusion might, make neces-sary withdrawal from the group more difficult or the need to withdraw less apparent; full exposure to all the prob-lems and "intimacies" of the family are not appropriate for the recently arrived and ~often can be a source of dis-traction for the real person,al work at hand. The need for committingl oneself to something is real and we dare not involve ourselves, once having accepted a candidate, in stringing hi.m along indefinitely. Candi-dates should become less and less strangers in our midst and more and more our friends and brothers, or they should leave. The task of formation is also that of inte-gration. Formation" The very notion of "formation" is under attack from some quarters: formation involves being "conformed to"; there is a mold, then, and the program is the cookie punch. Formation, then, is a, threat to the person and his own unique realization of himself. Formation, therefore, is bad and one more examp~le of the dehumanization of the individual not only present in the world but here too in the religious life. That is how the argument runs, and it is buttressed with innumerable examples from the folk-lore of community and convent. If this is what formation is.thought to be, or what it has been, it deserves condemnation. But this argumentation against formation may be refined; examples brought more into line with present practice; the extension of its con-demnation reduced--in gen,~ral, made more reasonable; and it will contain a more s~rious threat to what, I feel, must be involved in the intro~duction of new men into our fraternities. Candidates are joining a pre-existing group of men. They are joining themselves to and identifying them-selves with certain expressed, values and goals. There is a conformation element in the introduction of members to the community. This is related to the discussion by Branick of task and formation in the fine article pub-lished in the RrvlEw FOR I~LIGIOUS last year) This is a fact, I feel, which should not be minimized (personalized, yes, but not minimized). On the contrary, we must at- *Vincent P. Branick, S.M., "Formation and Task," R~vmw RELIGIOUS, V. 28 (1969), pp. 12-20. ,4- 4. + Formation VOLUME 29, 1970 509 ÷ 4. ÷ I. D. Keller REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 511) tempt to give in theory, practice, and the lives of our members a clear representation of our goals, our values, our style of life, our standards--who the community .is. We have an obligation to do this: The candidate has to make a judgment, and he has to be a real sharer in or tending toward these values, goals, and so forth or we cannot hope that his life among us in the future will be a happy one. This brings up a problem which is not the subject of these remarks, but which must be faced: We must have a rather clear understanding of who we are and what we stand for as a community. This does not have to be pre-sented in verbal fashion. In fact it is most convincing when it is seen (not read or heard); but if we have no standards, if we are not clearly standing for something, perhaps we should call a moratorium on accepting candi-dates. All of us are aware of the changes taking place in our houses of formation as regards house rules and discipline. I believe most of us agree with the general thrust of these moves and changes; we accept the rationale behind them. With them as a backdrop I would like to make the fol-lowing observations: (1) Freedom of choice and personally confirmed activ-ity are essential to growth in maturity. But people do make objectively bad choices. And when, with reason, a person's choice is thought to be a bad one, he should be told so. And if a person consistently makes bad choices, his candidacy should seriously be questioned. (2) Frequently candidates' principal occupation is that of studies. It is urgent that the academic program be ex-cellent, that it be demanding of the best the student pos-sesses. The good candidate wants to work; he is being prepared to work in the vineyard; if the candidate finds himself unable to work, he and his superiors, may take this as indication that he is not called to the brotherhood. (3) The period of training is real training for. There is a need, at times, for explicit correlation of the training and the work of the apostolate. This is particularly true of men in the college years. Not only the demands of the future apostolate, but also the present need of these Chris-tians to express their Christian concern for fellowman suggests the desirability and the practice of "apostolic works" during the years of formation. It is well that this be with men of the community already in the field; in works which are allied to the present and future works of the fraternity; that it be work with supervision and encouragement; that it be work with specific goals in mind and which meets the real needs of people in the area. But the experience of many is that this work can easily become overextended, irresponsibly carried out, and serve more as steam cock for seminary pressures than re-sponse to the needs of others. This is not to minimize the value and need of apostolic works. On the contrary, it is to say that because they are important, they deserve greater attention. (4) Part of formation today must include training in the forms of religious obedience which are taking shape in our orders. If the form adopted is one which is relying on consultation with the community, a kind of collegial-ity and consensus, then men must be prepared to accept this responsibility and share in it intelligently. What must be developed, in view of failures in practice which I have witnessed in our own formed communities, is the accept-ance of the fact that regardless of the form in which deci-sions are reached (perhaps after discussion, consensus, and voting), .there is follow-through: though perhaps now seen as more "horizontal," obedience is still a virtue of religion and a normal extended expression of the will of God. (5) In general, there is a great need in formation for more leadership, not less. For the most part, students want more models, more example. They need more en-couragement to reach higher. In this regard I would rec-ommend highly John Gardner's two books Excellence and Self-Renewal.4 And so while authoritarianism will never do, there is in some parts a crippling vacuum of inspiring leadership and demanding standards. Spiritual Lile From "formation" I would like to move on to the sub-ject of the spiritual life. And as I do I would like to call attention to the principal point I wish to make, and at this moment violate. Formation and the spiritual life should not be taken as separate elements of introducing new members into our life. There are elements of discipline and training which we can separate and discuss as it they were separate. But the overriding impact upon the candidates in the house of formation must be that all is marked by the Spirit. We are brothers because we are all possessed by the same Spirit: our rules, discipline, relations between older and younger members, concern for each other, should all be formed by and judged against the Book of Life and the book of our life together. In this regard, conformity to good educational prac- ' John W. Gardner, Excellence: Can We Be Equal and Excellent Too. Renewal: The Individual and the Innovating Society (New York: Harper and Row, 1956). Formation VOLUME 2% 1970 4" 4" ÷ ~. D. Keller REVIEW FOR RELIGIOU5 tice seems imperative. Theory and practice must go side by side. And if we must err (as human it is), far better to be heavier on practice than on theory. Let the house of formation practice a real poverty, let the students realize the cost of living, the budget and the crimp of doing without--far better than theorizing. Let there be good liturgy in the house and let it be a central work and con-cern of the community--far better than a course in lit- There might be one exceptionmthe matter of prayer. Many students are inexperienced in the practice of forms of prayer encouraged in our lives. This most personal and delicate area must receive special attention. If riot, we in-troduce the. possibility of impersonal prayer and innumer-able "periods of prayer" which become education in non-prayer. All of our houses, but especially our houses of forma-tion, should show forth this authenticity: 1.ire in the Spirit finds expression in the life of the community--a kind of symbiosis where there is an unconscious flow and tele-vance of one to the other. In all the seminaries and houses of formation I have come in contact with recently, there is a noteworthy point of emphasis being given in the task of spiritual formation. This is the increased importance and use of what has tra-ditionally been called "spiritual direction." It goes by dif-ferent names and the priests and religious involved in it have varying competence, but its value as being very per-sonal and very helpful is quickly appreciated by our can-didates. Though conferences and classes remain necessary in providing a familiarity with our religious tradition, no house of formation should neglect this tremendous oppor-tunity, nor should religious superiors neglect the effort to provide easy access to the spiritual counselors our young members need. One final point with regard to the spiritual life--the much discussed question of religious chastity and celibacy. My experience in discussing the matter with college stu-dents, candidates for the diocesan priesthood and for the religious life, has been that it is far more a problem for journalists, theologians, and men who are already celi-bates than it is for these men. That is not to say that they do not have trouble with the virtue of chastity, nor diffi-culty in whether or not to make the choice for celibacy, or whether or not they are Opposed to celibacy as an obliga-. tory thing. It is to say that they can see celibacy held as both an ideal and a requirement and feel that they can make a personal, non-compelled, and religiously mean-ingful choice in favor of it. This contradicts the conclu- sions of the recent CARA study on the Seminarians ot the Sixties," but I report to you my personal experience. General Observations I would like to bring these remarks to a close with several general observations on our present situation. There are many possibilities for styles of formation. Most communities are presently in the midst of inaugu-rating revised programs. What needs to be said is that most probably many forms will "work" and different combinations of elements can overcome the deficiencies of a program. Students are willing to overlook the inade-quacies, or at least give them their understanding, as long as we show ourselves aware of them and attempt to compensate--and all the time show the interest which proves we care about them as candidates for full mem-bership and our brothers now. Houses of formation and formation programs are not, nor will they be, perfect. As our congregations and the Church herself, the house of formation will always stand in need of reformation. This fact itself can be educative for our students: houses of training will not be ideal, as life in the ministry and full membership in the commu-nity will not be ideal. This might be a source of rein-forcement for the sense of reality in the candidate needed for mature living and decision. In these moments there is a great need for leadership and encouragement in the works of formation as there is in the Church in general. For new members in particular, uncertainty and hesitancy on the part of those to whom they turn for leadership can be not only crippling but also compound the lack of sureness (despite their some-time's cocky appearances) which surrounds the young. In conclusion, may I point out the obvious and be ex-cused for underlining that which stands in bold print: In the selection of personnel for houses of formation, hap-piness in their own calI must be the primary requisite for such an appointment. And yet one more point: most of our houses have small groups of students and even where the groups are large the cadre system is frequently being employed. This means total immersion for the members of the staff and large amounts of wear and tear. Each member of the entire community does well to attempt to offer them his understanding and cooperation. This, fre-quently, is a very large contribution to the task which is vitally important to all of us, that of initiating new mem-bers into our fraternities. ~Raymond H. Potvin and Antanas Subiedelis, Seminarians ]or the Sixties: ,,1 National Survey (Washington: CARA, 1969), p. 89. + + + Formatlo. VOLUME 29, 1970 HUGH KELLY, s.J. The Heart oj Prayer ÷ Hugh Kelly, is on the staff of St. Francis Xavier's; Gardiner Street; Dublin 1, Ireland. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 51,t "Lord, teach us how to pray." "When you pray say 'Our Father' " (Lk 11:1) That isa petition we must constantly address to our Lord. We must not expect to be taught how to pray once and for all so that we could exercise the art at will, as if we were masters of it. We must constantly be trying, ex-perimenting, learning. Of course if things between God and us were as they should be and as they once were, then prayer would be the most spontaneous, the most natural act of our life. It would not need to be learned. It would be as spontaneous as the smile of a child to its mother; as natural as the thrust upward of the cornstalk to the heat and light of the sun. There was something of that quality in the prayer of the Psalmist. The world about him spoke at once to him of the Creator. Everything in the universe pointed to God and invited him to pray. The sea, sky, earth, the'trees, the storm, the snow, the animals --all of these reminded him that he must praise God for them. Such a prayer was as natural, as necessary, as the act of breathing. It had not to be learned. It was a func-tion of man's activity. For reasons we need not stop to consider, that quality is no longer found in our prayer, or very seldom. Our relations with God are not so spontaneous. Man has so changed the world that it is difficult to see the hand of God in it. As a result prayer has become a complex thing, an art, that has to be learned and practiced with effort. Consider the excellent book of Cardinal Lercaro, Meth-ods of Prayer. It is a study of the different ways of prayer proposed by some of the recognized masters of the spiri-tual life. Each has his own approach and method of pro-cedure. But such methods could not be called spontane-ous or simple. They are elaborately studied. One of the masters, treated of by Lercaro is St. Ignatius. Here is how this saint introduces a prayer, the first meditation in the Spiritual Exercises: "This meditation is made with the three powers of the soul, and the subject is the first, second and third sin. It contains the preparatory prayer, two preludes, three principal points and a colloquy" (n. 46). Whatever the merits of such a form of prayer it could not be called simple or spontaneous. When we consider these different methods, which are so complex and so systematic, we may well ask if there is not somewhere in them a core or kernel of a purer prayer. If we unwrap the different layers, the steps, the tech-niques, shall we find at last something that is the heart or essence of prayer? "Is there.an essential prayer?" asks Y. Congar, O.P., "total, simple, which exceeds and em-braces all particular prayers?'; (Jesus Christ, p. 98). Is there something at the centre of each method, which is the same for all and which constitutes them true prayer? Something which, if absent, will leave them merely empty methods or systems? None of the commonly received definitions of prayer seem to give us what we seek. The definition of St. John Climacus, which is accepted by the catechism, that "prayer is an elevation of the soul to God" implies too much of a deliberate effort--that it is a matter of our own efforts and our own mmauve. It might equally apply to the study of theology, especially as it says noth-ing about love. The definition of St. Augustine comes closer to our aim: that prayer is a reaching out to God in love. Here there is indicated something spontaneous and natural; the role of love gets its recognition. But perhaps it speaks too much of our need of God and may be trans-lated too exclusively into a prayer of petition. It conveys the image the saint expressed in his phrase menclici Dei sumus--we are God's beggars; we stand before the Lord with outstretched hands. Our need of God is total; but our indigence is not our only approach to Him or our most immediate; it is not the ultimate root of our prayer. The words which kept St. Francis of Assisi in ecstasy for a whole night, "'Deus mi et omnia,'" "My God and my all," are certainly close to the heart of prayer. But they miss the essential constituent and inspiration of our prayer, that it is made to our Father. Obviously it is from our Lord alone that we must learn what is the heart of prayer. "Lord,. teach fis how to pray." It is instructive to note the promptness with which He answered that request, as if He had been waiting for it: "When you pray say 'Our Father.' " The condition of our most perfect prayer must be our assurance that we are addressing our Father, that we are addressing Him as Christ did. We are thus availing ourselves of the privilege which Christ won for us. When He said to Mary Magdalen, on the first Easter morning beside the opened empty tomb, "I ascend to My Father and to yours," He summarized His work of redemption: He ex-pressed the full dimension of His achievement. When we ÷ 4- Heart ot Prayer VOLUME 2% 1970 Hugh Kelly REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS say "Our Father" with the assurance which His Beloved Son has given us, we no longer pray merely as creatures, we are not considered by God as the beggars who stand at the door, still less as the puppies which catch the scraps falling from the table. We know we are the children of the household who have their rightful pla~e at the family board. Consider how our Lord emphasized the fatherhood of God in the Sermon on the Mount. The chief purpose of the discourse was to instruct us in our role as children: "That you may be the children of your Father, who is in heaven." Stretching out His hands to the simple folk, the fathers and mothers who sat around, He asked: "Which of you would give your child a stone, when he asks for bread? or a scorpion when he asks for a fish?" We can sense the movement of indignant rejection of such con-duct, in their faces and gestures. No, no; they would never dream of treating their little ones in that way. And then He points the lesson: "If you, evil though you are, can give good things to your children, how much more your Father in heaven will give good things to those who ask?" The little spark of love in a human father's heart which will urge him to be good to his child, what is it to the love in the heart of our Father in Heaven, from whom comes all parents' love? Nemo tam Pater, there is no father like God, St. Augustine reminds us. How much His Sonship meant to Christ, we gather from every page' of the Gospel. It is the source of His joy, confidence, exaltation. It is the support of His strength, His endurance, His resolve to carry out the mis-sion for which He was sent into the world. His life was entirely oriented to the will of His Father, was totally responsive to it. That orientation, that dependence, is His chief lesson to us. We too are sons of God and it should be the deliberate effort of our spiritual life to give our divine adoption its true place in our dealings with God, and not least in our prayer. "Our Father" might well serve us as the true heart of prayer. But there is another phrase of Christ, equally short, and perhaps even more full of suggestion, which might well give us what we are seeking. He spoke the phrase on the occasion of the return of the disciples from the short trial mission on which He had sent them to the cities of Israel to prepare the way for His own coming (Lk 10:17; Mt 11:25). Seeing their naive, childish joy in their suc-cess--" Lord, even the demons were subjected to us"--He thanked His Father for revealing to those little ones the spiritual truths He had concealed from the wise and prudent: "Yes, Father, so it was pleasing in your sight." Ira, Pater: "Yes, Father." This is His shortest prayer, and it is perhaps His most comprehensive one. It gives us His abiding attitude of mind to His Father. It reveals that His soul and spirit were always open to the Father, al-ways fully responsive to the Father's will. At first sight they indicate merely a mood of resignation and accept-ance, such as He showed especially in Gethsemane and on Calvary: "Not My will but Thine be done." But the words "Yes, Father" have a wider and deeper connota-tion. They cover all the emotions and reactions which were His as He looked on His Father's face. They ex-pressed not merely acceptance and submission; they con-vey approval, admiration, joy, praise, and most of all a loving agreement with all His Father is and does and asks. "It cannot be questioned," says Yves Congar, O.P., "that the prayer of loving, joyous adherence to the will of the Father was coextensive with the whole earthly life of Jesus" (Jesus Christ, 'p. 93). Perhaps in these words "Yes, Father" we too can find the heart and essence of our prayer and in some remote way may learn the prayer of our Lord. After all we are sons of the Son; we have within us His spirit who inspires us to say "Abba Father" --we may then without presumption make bold to say "Our Father" or "Yes, Father." These phrases indicate a prayer which is contempla-tion. They give the attitude of a soul which is facing God, looking at Him, listening to Him. "All prayer," says Y. Congar, "is communion in the will and mystery of God. This essential prayer consists in being receptive and wholly offered to God, so that He might be God not only in Himself---but also in His creatures" (Jesus Christ, p. 98). This prayer opens out the soul to catch the influ-ence of God. It looks to God expectantly to see, to learn, to receive, to respond, to admire, to accept, to praise, to approve, to thank. It mirrors in some way the riches of God. It will try to express itself sometimes in our Lord's words: "All My things are Thine and Thine are Mine" (Jn 17:10); sometimes in the words of the Psalmist: "What have I in heaven but Thee and there is nothing upon earth that I desire besides Thee" (Ps 72:26). St. Francis expressed this attitude to God in the words "Deus mi et omnia"--"My God and my all." Thomas "~ Kempis has voiced it in his great hymn of love: "A loud cry in the ears of God is that ardent affection of soul which says: My God, my love, Thou are all mine and I am all Thine; enlarge me in Thy love" (Imitation III:5). This is a rich prayer in which the constituents of all other kinds of prayers are found. It can register adoration, praise, thanks, petition, reverence, submission, offering, accept-ancemall the different moods of the soul when it feels its proximity to God. The phrase "Yes, Father" gives an at-mosphere, an attitude which "is one of total prayer, in which seeing and self-directing to what is seen, receiving ÷ ÷ ÷ Heart oy Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ ÷ ÷ Hugh Kelly REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS and self-giving, contemplation and going out from self, are all present, indistinguishably at the very core" (von Balthasar, Prayer, p. 65). This is substantially the re-sponse to the call of God. It is the response of the boy Samuel: "Here I am, for you called me" (1 Sam $:5). God made the first advance to man and spoke to him in His word: a word of love, an invitation to hear what God had planned and designed for His creatures~"Prayer," says von Balthasar again, "is communication in which God's word has the initiative and we at first are simple listeners. Consequently what we have to do is, first, listen to God's word and then through that word learn how to answer" (Prayer, p. 12). When this prayer of contemplation, of presence, reaches a certain degree of intensity, as with the mystics, it will be beyond the reach of analysis or explanation. The soul will remain passive, absorbed in God, knowing only how sweet it is to be so close to Him. But that state of intensity will not be frequent. Normally those who pray in this way are able to give some account of their meeting with God, to distinguish certain forms and fea-tures of prayer, and to realize how rich it is. We have access to the Father only through the Son. We are the sons of God because we share the sonship of Christ. Our prayer then must have the qualities of the prayer of Christ--we can speak in His words and make His prayer ours. The Father will recognize the prayers of His adopted sons as the blind Isaac recognized the voice of his younger son. There are certain notes and tones very frequent in the prayer of Christ which we must make our own. The Mass mentions these prayers explicitly: "He gave you thanks and prayers." And the Gospel testifies abundantly to them. They should be the chief features in our prayer. We should praise God just because He is God and most worthy of our praise. Our praise is the expression of the desire we have that He may be God in Himself and in His creatures. It is the theme of the first part of the Lord's prayer; it is the most frequent prayer of the Psalms. It is the highest, the most disinterested form of prayer. It is the opening note of the Magnificat, the prayer of our Lady spoken when the mystery of the Incarnation was at its newest. If prayer at its best is a loving attachment to God's will, then the prayer of praise must be the fullest attachment to God's will because it is God's will primarily that He should be God. The prayer of thanks may often be a variant of the prayer of praise. "We give Thee thanks for Thy great glory" the Church proclaims in the Gloria. We thank God for being Himself. Even if we owed nothing to Him, He would be most worthy of thanks just for being Him- self, the all powerful, the all perfect. But while fie is ill-finitely great He is infinitely good to us and therefore we must never cease to thank Him. That was the abiding mood of our Lord's soul: "Father, I thank Thee that Thou hast heard me. I know that Thou hearest me al-ways" (Jn 12:41). Our prayer then as sons of God must be as far as we can the the prayer of the only begotten Son, whose Sonship we share. It must express the fullest at-tachment to the will of the Father. It must be compact of adoration, submission, acceptance, all of these as expres-sions of love. We are justified in thinking that our Lady's prayer was of this kind, but in the highest degree. Her prayer was in a unique way a prayer of presence. It was fed from a double source. There was her interior union with the Holy Spirit who had come upon her and had done mighty things for her. But her interior contemplation of God and His design in the Incarnation was immensely deepened by her contact with her Son, the Word made flesh tlu'ough her. In a unique way she was in contact with the Word of God. She was more in contact with it than St. John and could give a greater testimony than his "What we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life--the life was made 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" (1 Jn 1:1-2). In the visible presence of her Son she was always gazing on the Word, always listening to it. We are told explicitly of her study of Him, how she kept all His words and deeds in her heart and turned them over in con-templation. This was most truly a prayer of presence. She had but to open her eyes and ears and her mind would be flooded with light. How deeply would His words and deeds speak to one so disposed to hear, to a handmaid so responsive to the Father. When she turned over in her mind what she saw with her senses, what floods of light, what insight and consolation came to her. Who could tell of her growth in the knowledge of God in the long silent years at Nazareth? What more appro-priate prayer could she make than "Yes, Father" in which she gave a wholehearted approval to God's designs? On the eve of His passion Our Lord could give a sad repri-mand to the Apostles--"So long a time have I been with you and you have not known Me." We feel that He could not have given such a reprimand to His Mother though her insight and knowledge were gradual and ever grow-ing. Her prayer must have been an openness to God, a love of His will, a resolve to accept it and do it that could be found only in one so deeply concerned with the eternal designs of God. + 4- + Heart o] Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 519 Perhaps in such phrases as "Our Father" or "Yes, Father" we are at the heart 9f prayer and can find in them that which was the core of all the methods. Perhaps if we bypass the preludes, the techniques, the preliminaries, and enter 'at once into the presence of God and greet Him in such words, we shall experience that our prayer will become what it should be: natural and spontaneous, a genuine communication with God. Perhaps we are too eager to do the talking, to tell God "various things He knows already." We try to take the lead in the interviews --we expect God to be the patient listener. But surely this is a reversal of roles: "What do we do, when at prayer, but speak to a God who long ago revealed himself to man in a word so powerful and all-embracing that it can never be solely of the past but continues to resound through the ages?" (yon Balthasar, Prayer, p. 12). In the words, "Yes, Father" or "Our Father" we take up the true atti-tude of prayer. We stand before God, we listen to Him, we wait to know His will and His good pleasure; and these short forms of prayer will reveal our response to His word, our docility and submission, our gratitude and praise, and first and last our love. 4. 4. Hugh Kelly REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 5~0 ROBERT J. OCHS, S.J. Imagination, Wit, and Fantasy in Prayer Robert: How do you mean? voices? Joan: I hear voices telling me what to do. They come from God. Robert: They come from your imagination. Joan: Of course. That is how the messages of God come to us. riG. B. Shaw, St. Joan. This article is in the nature of a plea, even a kind of court plea, for a fcesh look at what used to be called dis-cursive prayer. Inasmuch as it is a court plea, it is a plea of "not guilty." This fresh look might exonerate dis-cursive prayer of two charges commonly leveled against it: of being dry meditation and of being the lowest rung on the prayer ladder, a step quickly taken on the way to the higher prayer of quiet. As we shall see, these two charges are not unconnected. If discursive prayer runs quickly dry, it is no wonder people look for something higher and it deserves its bottom rung. "Exonerating discursive prayer of guilt" is a metaphor. But exonerating those who practise it from their guilt complex is not. They do feel vaguely guilty before God and themselves when they are unsuccessful at it; and when successful they still feela kind of-inferiority com-plex about its lowly status, a feeling that by now they should have advanced beyond it to the prayer of quiet. They feel the only way of progress is up, and so they re-peat their occasional efforts at the prayer of quiet, with middling success. There would be scant harm in this if the prestige of the prayer of quiet did not relegate them to the role of spiritual slum dwellers, blocking their imaginations from exploring the possibilities which lie hidden under the forbidding category of "discursive prayer." This plea has two parts. One is to broaden the scope of discursive prayer to include fantasy, affective reactions (annoyance, complaining, rebellion as well as fervor; 4- 4- 4- Robert J. Ochs, S.J., is a faculty member of Bellar-mine School of Theology; North Aurora, Illinois 60542. VOLUME 29, 1970 521 ÷ ÷ ÷ R. 7. Ochs, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS desolation as well as consolation), and, not least, wit, an imaginative use of our heads. The other part is histori-cal, a look at the original narrowing of scope of dis-cursive prayer in the 16th and 17th centuries, which soon brought religious writers [ace to face with the widespread "problem of dryness" and issued in the recommendation of the prayer of simplicity as a solution. Not that it was a bad solution. The prayer of quiet is an excellent method for those who can use it. Leonard Boase's book The Prayer of Faith, recommending it again so persuasively-some years ago, came as a real release for many. But I would venture a guess that for every person who was liberated by it, two others eventually felt them-selves hampered, and dissipated their efforts to explore further in a discursive way. And Father Boase's sugges-tion that the night of sense (which includes a night of the intellect), an intense but brief period for great souls like John of the Cross, lasts a lifetime for the common lot, sounded like a sentence to an unlivable life in the twi-light. Boase conceived the work of the mind and imagina-tion as a linear, undialectical, and conflictless a.bsorption of the truths of revelation, that reaches its saturation point rather quickly. It is pretty much limited to medi-tation "in the sense of methodical, analytic study of sacred truth" (p. 47). Not surprisingly, such a simple absorption process can hardly be expected to last a life-time, and before long "the sponge is full" (~i6). Further activity of the mind can only lead to boredom, and so one had best turn to a quiet contemplative view of the whole. Reading Boase one gets the impression that the evolution of prayer is all rather tranquil and uneventful. No doubt our poor prayer seems to prove him right. And yet, one cannot help suspecting that beneath the placid surface of our not very exciting prayer a passion-ate world is seething. The itinerary Boase sketches (ad-mittedly, I am caricaturing this excellent book a bit) takes us along the periphery of this turbulent interior world instead of through it. One has only to recall the eventful cri~es which mark the milestones in any psychoanalysis to sense that something is missing. Ronald Laing has sug-gested that for all our interiority we moderns are living in another Dark Age, before the Age of Exploration of the interior world. The model for "appropriating the faith" might well be exploration and confrontation rather than simple absorption. The eminent historian of modern spirituality, Louis Cognet, has recently tried to get at the origins of this atrophy of discursive prayer. In some homey and yet polemical pages (Les probl~mes de la spiritualitd; Ch. 5; also La prikre du chrdtien, Ch. 8--both Paris: Cerf, 1967), he has attacked what he feels to be a centuries old misunderstanding. The anti-meditation bias arose out of a series of historical accidents in the 16th century and has narrowed the scope of prayer ever since. As he tells it, theology in the late Middle Ages had taken on a highly rationalistic form, becoming a domain of specialists, cut off from interior sources. Spirituality was divorced from it, and therefore divorced from any searching theological activity. Methodical prayer, using simple meditation man-uals, was introduced to provide the uncultured with something more accessible. Thus "meditation" came to be associated with this new idea of untheological prac-tical prayer. Its practice spread so that even the educated depended on these manuals for prayer. By the time so-called mental prayer had become general practice, the impression was also well established that it built on a narrow intellectual base~ The theologically educated lived split lives. However imaginatively they might use their wits otherwise, "mental" prayer engaged their minds very little. Frustration was not long in coming. Cognet is struck by the simultaneous emergence all over Europe of a new problem for the religious writers of this period~ the prob-lem of dryness and disgust. Theorists had to find a way of explaining and coping with the distaste which seemed to afflict educated people who embarked on mental prayer for any length of time. The generally accepted so-lution was to suppose that discursive prayer was just an elementary stage. Dryness was taken as a sign that this stage had served its purpose and should be left behind for more simple forms. Discourse in words and images was to give way to a contemplative look. This scheme became generally adopted during the 17th century. We find it in St. Teresa and John of the Cross whose authority has made it accepted in treatises on prayer down to our own day. It was a good solution for the problem so conceived. It served to highlight the special nature of the prayer of quiet, for which many had a real capacity. But others who could not follow this way out, whose prayer re-mained obstinately discursive for all their efforts to fol-low the "normal" trajectory toward the prayer of sim-plicity, felt condemned to the meagre means available at the elementary level of the spiritual life. Cognet claims that this inferiority complex has hampered growth in prayer ever since. A realignment is therefore called for, Cognet insists. We must especially remind ourselves that the "traditional view" is relatively modern, and ruled by a particular view of prayer conceived to answer concrete problems of the VOLUME 29, Z970 4. ÷ 4. R. I. Ochs, sd. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS late Middle Ages and early Modern period. It was not always so. As far as we are in a position to reconstitute the prayer, of St. Augustine, for example, we must con-clude that he remained'discursive all his life, for all the contemplative aspects of his'prayer. This discursive form did not keep him from the heights of prayer. Nor did it keep Cardinal Berulle on an elementary level. Above all, we should emphasize that these psychological forms of one's prayer.are secondary, that it is one's relation to God in prayer which is fundamental. We should encourage a freer, more pragmatic attitude toward these forms, and arrange them less into stages. The psychological mani-festations of one's relationship to God are more a matter of temperament and style, and even of periods of one's life, which follow a rhythm back and forth from dis-cursive to "contemplative, rather than a set progression from one to the other. Even St. Teresa wrote abundant narratives about her prayer; and Jeanne de Chantal, after a period when she could not start the Our Father without falling into ecstasy, used discursive forms in the same way as the rest of us. Obviously, more is at stake in correcting this mis-understanding than freeing discursively oriented people from their inferiority complexes. (It is a bit hard to imagine vast numbers of people consciously suffering from the classical division into stages, in our contempo-rary scramble for any form of prayer which makes sense.) What is at stake is breaking open the category of dis-cursive prayer, giving scope for people to explore it with more confidence of finding something. At stake is healing the rift between theology and prayer in our own religious sensibility, learning to pray with our minds as well as our hearts (and theologize with our affectivity as well as our heads). There is no mindless prayer of the heart. Human affectivity is saturated with meaning. Closing the gap between spirituality and theology means breaking down prejudices built into the Christian prayer consciousness over generations, prejudices that thinking in prayer can only be idle curiosity, speculation about bloodless truths, asking impertinent questions pi-ous minds were never meant to ask. But there is the book of Job to make it clear that our minds were meant to ask. Surely a great curiosity about divine things is not foreign to prayer. Man was meant to argue with God. The Lord even demands that His people ask an explanation from him. The prophets had questions to put to the Lord who called them. And Mary answered the angel with the question: "How shall these things be?" Besides the prejudice against asking questions in prayer, there is another against using the imagination. Imagination and fantasy could well be what is required to bring heart and mind back together in prayer. Both theology and spirituality, as they are now, suffer from not being sufficiently tooted in the imagination. Discursive prayer does employ imagination and fantasy, but in a feeble, and, one might say, witless way. What is needed is a bolder use of fantasy.in prayer, a parallel to the bold-ness recommended above in asking questions of God. The Esalen Institute, for example, has uncovered re-markable abilities to fantasize in outwardly bland people. Its use of fantasy can teach us something. In guided fan-tasies, for instance, any blocks that occur are looked on as highly revelatory. A person embarking on a fantasy trip through his own body may suddenly find his body impenetrable, or, once inside, find he has no access to his heart. The important element to note here, for method, is that the person follows his fantasy, that there are things the person can and cannot do spontaneously in fantasy, because of their meaningful affective charge. This is much more concrete than our usual attempts to imagine our-selves present in a gospel scene where we try to elicit "appropriate" feelings and, when they are not forth-coming, dismiss our inability unreflectively as just an-other bad meditation. Closer to what masters like St. Ignatius must have had in mind is one case I am familiar with, where a man who had been unable to pray for years began a retreat by imagining himself at Bethlehem but found he could not enter the cave. Feelings of un-worthiness, and of simply not being welcome, blocked his fantasy at that point. He and his director interpreted this, not as an inability to "make the contemplation," but as a sign that he was praying; and he continued to imag-ine himself barred at the entrance to the cave in his repe-titions of the contemplation. After two days of this, dur-ing which the resentments and hopes of his whole past life welled up within him, he reported that he was in-vited to go in. The fantasy, with the block and its resolu-tion, was so much the man himself that it became the carrier for a real encounter and meant the turning point of his spiritual life. These short examples of how the use of mind and imag-ination might be broadened are, of course, not cited merely as .gimmicks, but hopefully as indications of a wider dimension and as reminders of how sluggishly we have used them in the past. Limitations of space preclude elaborating them more. Numerous qualifications would also be in order---discernment to avoid equating the in-terior world with God and our feelings with his Holy Spirit. But God does speak to us in our thoughts and. imaginations, or He cannot reach us at all. + ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, As a conclusion let me cite the words Robert Bolt gives to Thomas More in A Man/or All Seasons: "God made the angels to show him splendor--as he made animals [or innocence and plants for their simplicity. But Man he made to serve him wittily, in the tangle o[ his mind." The way through a tangle is discursive and dialectical. + + + R. 1. O~h,, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JOSEPH T. FORGUE, F.S.C. Religious Life and the Educational ApostOlate Apparent to many engaged in the task of reformulation of the structures of the religious life is the inadequacy of mere personalism to remedy mechanical institutionalism. What seems to be necessary is an approach at once task oriented while incorporating the wide range of personal concerns. The following--an interpretation of the docu-ment The Brother of the Christian Schools in the World Today: A Declaration-- is offered as a model of just such an approach. What are the brothers? It might be said that they are men who, with lucid faith and burning zeal, serve the poor through Christian education, by establishing them-selves as a disciplined community. To be sure, there are many persons with lucid faith and burning zeal; many who serve the poor; many committed to Christian educa-tion; and there are many disciplined communities. The Brothers of the Christian Schools, I suggest, are a unique dynamic convergence of faith and zeal expressed through Christian education on behalf of the poor, facilitated and sustained through the mechanism and mystery of dis-ciplined community life. Christian Education in Service of the Poor In the first place there is the logical and historical pri- ÷ ority that leads to understanding the brothers' coming ÷ together as task oriented. To be sure, the quality of their + corporate lives must go beyond the task; but the task-- Christian education in the service of the poor--is the ini-tial and sustaining motivation for the community. To b~ concerned with an educational task is to partici- ¯ pate in the cumulative process of building the "new age of mankind." It is to foster the development of the noosphere, that network of human cohesion based on the twin dynamism of knowledge and love. To educate is to 527 Joseph T. Forgue, F.S.C., is a faculty member of Chris-tian Brothers Col-lege; Memphis, Tennessee ~8104. VOLUME 29, 1970 ¯ J, T, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS provoke and to evoke an ever increasing growth in criti-cal self-consciousness, to elicit insightful understanding of the structural realities of the world. Education that is in the service of the poor is educa-tion which recognizes that the thrust of history pulsates primarily among the poor. Education that is Christian is education which recognizes that all structures are on be-half of persons, aiding them toward personal and com-munal growth in responsible freedom. Christian educa-tion in service of the poor responds to those who suffer from the imperfections in society and understands that to realistically participate in its task, there must be real and co-ordinated contact with all strata of society for the sake of societal change. The educational task of the brothers, then, ought to be both comprehensive: urban, rural, suburban; and far-reaching: formal and informal. Urban education seeks to minister to the persons who suffer most immediately the brunt of the radical trans-formation in the human self-image caused by the tech-nologization of society. The historic thrust of the broth-ers adds the further dimension: a preference for the. poor of the inner city. Rural education seeks to foster the em-pathy and radicalization necessary for those not touched directly by urban awareness--and this to develop a sense of responsibility for the solutions to the problems of the city. The educational task in the suburbs--similar to the rural task---seeks to promote a sense of unity with, and responsibility for, the city. The result aimed at: the shat-tering of isolationist attitudes reinforced by provincial governmental boundaries. In order to reach all the people, the comprehensive ed-ucational task must be far-reaclfing. The brothers are called to operate through the academic framework of the school (formal education) and to include as an integral dimension of their work various educational endeavors that are outside the regular academic structure (informal education). Disciplined Community Just as historically John de La Salle was confronted by the educational task that was needed and in meeting that need discovered the need for a task force, so the contem-porary need of Christian education in service of the poor requires the existence of a disciplined community. The interpersonal dimensions of men risking their lives to live together in celibate community are not to be slighted, but such dimensions are not the reason for the brothers' coming together as an institute larger than one community. If such were the reason, the need for cor-porate structure apart from or beyond the "local group" would be unnecessary. Hence in describing the Brothers of the Christian Schools such considerations are omitted. They are presupposed as necessary for any human com-munity; they do not specify the uniqu.eness of the or-ganized religious life. The Brothers of the Christian Schools are disciplined-- that is, they have structured aspects of their living to-gether to hold up to themselves the continual demands oI the educational task. Traditionally such discipline has been called poverty, chastity, and obedience. Under the rubric of poverty, the brothers deny them-selves the personal use of individual salaries based on the market value o~ their work, pooling their regular moneys to manifest that they have staked their lives upon each other. Chastity refers to their decision.to live a non-family life style, symbolizing (and making really available) openness to personal mobility to insure meeting the fluc-tuating needs of the corporate task. Subjecting the indi-vidual direction of their careers to the approval of the corporation, the brothers under the rubric of obedience have decided that their individual efforts on behalf of mankind shall be united to, and co-ordinated with, the corporate task. To the traditional disciplines are added two others: one corporate: liturgy--the other personal: meditation. In liturgy the community agrees to meet in communal wor-ship. That is, it agrees to attempt to understand its re-sponse to the world in terms of meeting the demands of the Mysterious Unconditioned. The community under-stands its mission as the mission of the Church: mediating through the dynamic presence of the Spirit, the Father as revealed in Ghrist. Besides the communal necessity to come to grips with the presence of mystery, there is the demand for each to do so in his unique "being addressed" by God. Hence the need for meditation. The disciplined community is a community: which necessitates the decision to enter into regular, serious, personal dialogue on the part of whomever the demands of the corporate task have called to be comrades. There is the concern that comes of risking one's life upon the persons who share the taskmthe concern which enables the brothers to sustain their lives of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Further, the community is composed of brothers who wholeheartedly participate in the common work required when men live together, who foster the formal and in,or-real study and thought necessary for developing corporate self-understanding of their life in Christ, and who, fi-nally, simply let their hair down together in joyful cele-bration of their comradeship. VOLUME ~9 1970 ]. T. Forgue REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 550 Faith and Zeal The members of a disciplined community who are en-gaged in the corporate task of Christian education on be-half of the poor manifest the spirit of faith and zeal. The faith of such brothers is the free response they give to the experience of being addressed at the very core of their selfhood by the Absolutely Unconditioned--me-diated in our traditions by Christ. Further, such faith is global since it understands the free response to be neces-sarily comprehensive, relating to all men everywhere--a catholic faith. The faith of these brothers is futuric since they understand that their free and global response is to the demand that they live their lives on behalf of the fu-ture of men--to build the Body of Christ. The free, global, futuric faith has yet another dimen-sion: it is grateful. Such faith rests upon the gracious cumulative presence of God in history; it is a faith me-diated in time by the Church. Finally, the brothers rec-ognize their faithful response to be ambiguous, always under scrutiny, ever in need of perfection through the systematic prophetic questioning of its authenticity--a faith on the brink of unbelief. Just as the brothers' spirit of faith has five marks, so may the power of their zeal be sustained and characterized in a fivefold manner. The zeal of the brothers is manifested by their remain-ing articulate about the multiple dimensions of their professional field--education--and the specific academic discipline of their speciality. Since effective work demands coherence and specifica-tion the zeal of the brothers is characterized by planning. They must decide to operate on the corporate and indi-vidual level in response to the researched needs of the world as reflected in the specific areas they find them-selves. Such operation must be systematically efficient and highly co-ordinated. The brothers must be guided by the spirit of Romans 5:1,5, living the reality of zeal in terms of patience and persistence. They must suffer the presence of obstacles to their goals, take heart in the struggles they meet, and develop a sense of humor that will keep them from b-solutizing any aspect of their task. The brothers, giving every calorie of energy to their task, will live in the hope which is born of worthwhile effort. Finally, the zeal which sustains a group of Christian Brothers must develop a sensitivity to the real needs of the poor in their midst: that they might burn with a zeal that is salvific for men. Unknown to them will be de-structive fanaticism or self-aggrandizing complacency. Conclusion Such is a suggested model for understanding the broth-ers and their being-together. Unless religious operate out of some such corporate understanding; unless they ac-tually do act with an impact that is at once local, regional, national, and international; then there seems to be little justification for the life style they have chosen. + + ÷ vOLUME 29, 1970 CHARLES A. SCHLECK, C.S.C. Community Life: Problematic and Some Reflections Charles Schleck, C.S.C., lives at 2300 Adeline Drive; Bur-lingame, California 94010. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The problem of community life in religious institutes today is beset by many different factors both those of an environmental and ideological nature. There are first of all the conflicting currents of pressure with which man is faced in our contemporary societyA There is, for example, the problem of mobility, the fact that men can and do move around much more quickly than before, from one job to another, from one profession to another, from one place of residence to another. There is the consequent "need for change" which this very fact of mobility can easily cause. And very often connected with this, and fol-lowing from it, there is the experience of solitude or loneliness, plus the consequent uneasiness which this causes, not to say anxiety and anguish. There is the pro-found need for love and acceptance, and men are willing to do almost anything in order to get this. At the same time we find the presence of fear, the fear of being ab-sorbed by the impersonalism of our society, the fear of being rejected by others, fears which account for the rather bizarre and defensive behavior of so many, and fears which also account for the profound superficiality and veneerness of the relationships which persons do have--even those relationships which are entered into as an act of protest against other interrelationships. So often our relationships today are often marked by many words, and the doing of many things together, but by very little real personal communication or communion-- of the kind which leaves us free and which leaves others free as well. Thus, many persons in our society today live in real 1See K. Jaspers, Man in the Modern Age, Doubleday, 1957; Marcel, Man against Mass Society, Gateway, Chicago, 1962. solitude, and this throughout their entire lives. This is due at least in part to the sociological uprootedness in which they are almost forced to live. Solitude is never more painful than in many of our larger cities where many complain that they can never be alone, and yet, in reality, are almost always alone, that is, without any real communication or communion of a spiritually and truly satisfying nature. There are others in our society who are psychically incapable of being alone, or of recollecting themselves, or of becoming aware of their true sitnation in the world. Life outside a crowd is for them untolerable, so untolerable that they feel a kind of a pressure or com-pulsion to do everything that everyone else is doing, especially those persons or those groups with whom they identify socially. Thus their frequentation of the same bars, or theaters, or dubs or discotheques and so forth. It is not that they really desire these things necessarily, but they simply must do them because of their need to be "with people" and their fear of being alone. Yet for all this frequentation and for all these encounters, there is little or no real profound and personally satisfying com-munication or communion, whether there be the com-munication or communion of man with man, or that of man with God3 Another reason for the problematic in community life today is the advent and current cult of the many insights into man given to us in and through the existential and personalist philosophies of our time. These teach us that there are three involvements that characterize the exist-ence of modern man who is bodily-spiritual. There is first of all the involvement of man in the world. Even man's knowledge of God comes from the world in which he is rooted by reason of his bodiliness. He cannot even be thought of in his total reality unless the world is also perceived or thought of together with him. In fact, even his redemption or salvation is connected with the world, because man is redeemed as a being-in-the-world, or a being involved in the world. In fact, it is through man that the whole of creation shares in the redemption and salvation. For sanctity or holiness which is the fulfillment of man involves not merely the offer of Christ but the response of man as well. Again there is man's involvement in community. He is quite aware that he is dialogical, that he is not simply a being-in-the-world, but a being-in-the-world-with-others, that he is a listener as well as a speaker. He does not stand alone in society; he stands always in relation to others in society. While he possesses his own personal and indi-vidual natnre, and this in a unique way, still he cannot =See Ignace Lepp, The Ways o] Friendship, Macmillan, N.Y., 1966, pp. l,gff. ÷ ÷ ommunity " Li~e VOLUME 29. 1970 ~. A~ Schteck REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS develop his nature or his person alone; he can do this only in and through the human community, that is, through other human persons. He sees his environment and his becoming and development, as intimately linked up with presence, the presences and influences of other persons, or with the interactivity of many interpersonal relationships. If man has selfhood, he is given this so that he may encounter other human persons who by their presences and interactivity will contribute to his whole-ness and personal fulfillment. No man is an island; and if his personal talents and capabilities are to unfold, if he is to become himself, completely this person which at first he is only potentially, if he is to become uniquely and personally creative, then the unique powers and gifts he has must be awakened .and stimulated to growth through the presence and interaction of others. And thirdly, there is man's involvement in history. There is not one moment of his life when man can be said to possess his own existence fully. What he is now, he became as a result of his past, and it is what he is now --including this past--that leads him on toward the fu-ture, a future to which he is even now already reaching out. Thus, every human life bears the stamp of outside forces, even though it is also internally being shaped by God and by the individual himself. Man's being and person are being shaped not bnly by the apparently autonomous forces of God and himself but also by the coexistential forces of his living moment, those of the hu-man community in which the forces of history are accu-mulated. While man's decisions are free, they' are not made in any kind of vacuum. They have their roots in the soil of human society and its history. And this means both the past and the future as well as the present, since the past and the future enter into our here and now de-cisions to a great extent, greater than many of us imagine. Man lives historically or in history, and he is involved very much in the ebb and flow of history. In short we find many currents impacting on man and his situation in the world today, currents that almost force themselves on us in spite of ourselves. There is the emphasis on personalism, the search for personal fulfill-ment or happiness, the need for independent and respon-sible action, the insistence on the primacy of the person over the society--at least when this is considered in its form of institution or organization--which is considered as being at the service of the person. There is the em-phasis on fellowship, on the sacramentality of our brother, on brotherhood in the sense of togetherness, collabora-tion, teamwork, complementarity, mutual enrichment, or completion, through interpersonal relationships and ac-tivity. There is the preoccupation of modern man with the "world" and the need for religious who are trying to be fully human and Christian to enter as completely as possible into all that is human and can be consecrated to God. The world is our world and we hold a serious responsibility in reference to what it is going to become, and we hold this in communion and cooperation with each other. Therefore, we must be involved in the world and in the human community--in order to become per-sons ourselves and in order to help shape the destiny of man in history, in order to help others become persons themselves.3 Still another source of the problematic regarding com-munity life in religion is the manifold way in which the expression "community" is understood by different per-sons today. As we find in so many other areas of human relationships, our problem often becomes a linguistic problem--we use the same word and yet we do not mean the same thing. The theologian or canonist will mean one thing by the word "community" whereas the sociologist or the psychologist might mean something quite distinct; and possibly the cultural anthropologist might mean something different from all these. And then again, dif-ferent theologians or different canonists, or different so-ciologists or different p?ychologists or different cultural anthropologists might mean different things by the same word. What the theologian refers to when he uses the word "community" within the sphere of his science is a group or corporate entity that we know and regard in and by and through the light of faith, or a community or group that is established and built on a faith vision of one kind or another. What the canonist will mean by the word "community" is a group of persons that lives together following certain norms or laws established by the com-petent authority empowered to establish those rules and regulations. Yet a psychologist or a sociologist would be speaking of something entirely other, of a group of per-sons or an association of persons viewed according to the norms and principles of the behavioral science which they represent. For a good number of psychologists, the word "commu-nity" would refer to a group of persons whose quality and depth of interpersonal relationships would establish them in some kind of communion of unity, personal unity or unity and communion of persons. Thus, they would stress the sacredness of the person, his need to be ful-filled within an expansive and free community. They would stress that persons are ends in themselves, im-portant for who they are as well as and even more so 8See Otto Semmelroth, S.J., The Church and Christian Belie], Deus Books, Paulist Press, N.Y., 1966, pp. 81-3. + + + Community Life VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ ÷ RENEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~536 than for what they do. They would stress that a diversity of works and personal talents is a good thing in a group, precisely because this variety evokes the actualization of the full range of the human potential which exists within the group and because it also creates the possibility for adaptive changes within the group enriching its total view and being and action. They would also stress the fact that the insights of the person-members serve the community, that personhood is a process, a reality that is not achieved simply in virtue of existing together, but rather by personal exchanges, the kind that imply ac-ceptance of change within the persons "and also a realistic knowledge and acknowledgment of human fallibility. They would emphasize that self-revelation and accept-ance of others, far from working to the destruction of the unity of the group, enhance both the person and the group or community as well. In fact it is these very things that provide the basis for continuing growth in under-standing and love on the part of the various members of the group. The sociologist would be concerned with community within the framework of group formation and operation. He might tend to emphasize the professional and the adult relationships of the members and tend to look at the group in terms of its ability to carry out goals and ob-jectives with some kind of e~ciency. Or he would tend to emphasize or look at a community as a social group phenomenon which identified or did not identify with this or that value system. For example, among the many distinctions which sociologists have made to clarify the social reality of "community" was the introduction of the notions of "gemeinschaft" and "gesellschaft." The first term refers to a community in the sense of a communal collectivity based on diffuse emotional attachments exist-ing between the members. The second term refers to a communal collectivity that rests primarily on the con-scious choice of specific objectives on the part of the membership. This division might approximate what we often call a division of community into a community as home, and a community as service organization. The sociologist is often far more interested in the second kind of "community" than in the first, that is, in the associational community or "gesellschaft" than in the emotional community or "gemeinschaft." Affective rela-tionships are and will indeed remain important to the sociologist, but he does not see them as constituting the totality of human existence, that if they did, they would soon lead a community to becoming dysfunctional or non-functioning, reduced to a kind of love-in experience or amateur group therapy unit rather than an adult associa-tional group having specific objectives. He would see that in some circumstances the affective relationslfips and the constant search for these on the part of a group would simply tend to desu'oy effective performance on the part of the group and to render their associational objectives impossible or difficult to achieve. He would stress that there should be organic solidarity in the membership of the group, and this such that there would be more than mere juxtaposition, but rather an interdependent divi-sion of labor, the key to which would be not that diversity in which each part goes its own way, but that kind of diversity in which each part is deeply concerned with meaningful exchange and for the good of each part, but for this good in reference to the good of the whole. The sociologist is very much concerned with preserving the sovereign demands of the common good together with the dignity of the person. To employ a rather practical example: A sociologist would see that in the case of liturgical experimentation by different groups, this should be concerned with the functional or service con-tributions which this group is making to the larger whole, and not with its own personal wishes or the indi-vidual affective relationships which exist ~znong the cele-brating group. He could easily accept the principle of a pluralistic liturgy based on the notion of vocation or profession, in which each societal role and its contribu-tion to the life of the totality would permit diversity and " yet stress organic solidarity, for example, a Mass for pro-fessionals, for factory workers, and so forth. But he would also tend to consider that it is a fruitless task on the part of liturgists in their attempt to achieve togetherness in the liturgy to try to define their problem in terms of supernatural charity becoming translated into human emotion. A person need not feel affection for another in order to have charity toward this other person, nor need charity always express itself in a social relationship which is defined as affective. Christian love may impel a man to lend a helping hand to another, but this is quite an-other phenomenon than that of holding hands for the sake of holding hands. Though the temptation to unite these two forms or expressions is very great by reason of an appealing and yet rather false idealism, liturgical forms must respect the fact that this equation is fre-quently impossible. The good Samaritan did not form an I-Thou relationship with the man who fell in with thieves, at least if we accept this according to the terms of some psychologists. He bandaged his wounds, put him on his pack-animal, took him to an inn and gave the inn-keeper money to cover the expenses, and went on his way.4 'See R. Potvin, "The Liturgical Community: Sociological Ap-praisal," in Experiments in Community, Liturgical Conference, ÷ 4- Community Li]e VOLUI~IE 2% 1970 4. To further complicate the linguistic problem or the problem of and in communication, the word "apostolic" has also undergone an evolution in meaning. In the New Testament it involved two elements: (1) a kind of juridi-cal element, that is, a commissioning by Christ for some form of leadership in the Church; and (2) a kind of charismatic element, that is, a vision or experience of the risen Lord. The word "apostle" and its corresponding adjective were more or less limited or concentrated on a certain well-defined group of persons in the first genera-tion of Christian history. Gradually, however, the word took on other meanings. It referred to what could be traced back to the Apostles, for example, their writings, their doctrines, their traditions, and so forth. It was later on extended to refer to the Roman See, the Roman Pon-tiff, and finally to the Roman Catholic Church described as the "apostolic Church." Later on in the Middle Ages the word "apostolic" was used to describe a life or life style that was conformable with that instituted by the Apostles of the primitive Church. Thus the monks were Wash. D.C., 1968, pp. 90-3. "Many people use the word community to imply a group welded together by affective bonds, a love-in whereby emotional attachments are generated and maintained. Christian community and the cultic symbols which surround the eucharistic feast should not be reduced to a notion of community with affective overtones . It is unfortunate that the word com-munity and family should be abused as much as they are. The problem is not simply one of definition since the meaning of the words can and does differ in various contexts. The confusion re-sides in the arbitrary conjunction of the elements of one meaning with those of another, and in not realising that they are often mutually exclusive. The end result is frequently little else than stagnant unrealism which precludes the understanding of the social and spiritual realities which are being discussed. Thus the totality of the community of God's people is not a community in the strict sense of the word. Its unity is not the unity of affective homogeneity. It is not emotional attachment nor that of primary, deep, total relationships between people. It is not the unity which arises from the sharing of common territory--all contemporary definitions of community. These exist within the community of the faithful, but they are not that community, nor can their characteristics be at-tributed to it as such. In fact we are in the secular city of God and we have moved from a tribal unity with its kin-like bonds to the unity of the technopolis. As Harvey Cox suggests, there is another alternative to Buber's dichotomy between an I-It relationship and the I-Thou encounter. It is the I-You relationship which is at the base of the secular city. The unity which is characteristic of the contemporary world is a functional unity of diversity whereby people are of service to each other, and one which can be devoid of affecfive connotations, which at times must be devoid of such personal overtones if the common welfare and the 'interests of our fellow men' are to be achieved. Sociologists would say that such unity is based primarily on associational and not communal rela-tionships. In other words, it is not necessary that the baker know personally and like the plumber for the two to be of service to each other. It is even conceivable that if they did their mutnal service might be less efficient." thought to be living an apostolic life by reason of their practice of the common life and preaching. And they were said to be living in conformity with the first community in Jerusalem. While it is true that these elements--com-mon life and the ministry of preaching--were found in diverse ways in different groups, so long as these two ele-ments were in some way present, the group was said to be living the apostolic life. In the sixteenth century the word was again slightly modified. It began to refer to those persons or groups of persons who were sent by the Church to preach the gospel and to live or practice the virtues which the fulfillment of mission entailed. It was not so much a question of their imitating the life of the Apostles, but rather of participat-ing or sharing in their mission. Even semi-cloistered nuns spoke of themselves as having the "apostolic" spirit, cause they participated in the spirit of the apostolic mis-sion, namely, the redemption of mankind. Finally, the word "apostolic" received another altera-tion in recent times. With the advent of Catholic Action, the laity was said to have an "apostolic vocation." It would seem to be this use of the word "apostolic" that brought into being its highly "quantitative" aspect. Some persons were said to be more apostolic than others. Some works were said to be more apostolic than others. And finally some groups and' even religious institutes were said to be more or less apostolic than others depending upon the degree to which they engaged in external works. Under Plus XII an attempt was made to correct some of the inadequate implications of such a use of the word. He spoke of completely enclosed communities as leading a life that was essentially and wholly "apostolic." Thus the word "apostolic" would seem to admit of several essential elements, one ontological--a life that is con-nected with the inner life of the Church, with the life of agape or charity; and the other phenomenological--the various concrete ways or expressions in which the life of agape or charity can be expressed and mediated both in being and operation by persons, or groups, or even re-ligious communities. While we should be able to distin-guish one or other element in the word "apostolic," it would seem to be the wiser thing not to dissociate them from one anothbr, or dichotomize them in our practical attitudes. This could easily give rise to a triumphalism of one kind or another, contemplative or active, and both of these could simply establish more snob clubs in a Church where we already have enough. This linguistic problem or problem in communica-tion is not limited to the area of community. We find it existing in many other areas today. In regard to the area of family planning, for example, during the years in 4- 4- 4. Community lilt VO~UM~ ~, ;~o C. d. $chleck REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~40 which the papal commission met, it was quite obvious that there were problems, and serious ones, involving the use of language and words and expressions. Words used were the same, but the ~neanings and emphases, the cate-gories and selective placement of values connected with these words, were extremely diverse.5 This linguistic problem is a real problem. And it would seem to me that because we do not spell out the exact and rather well-defined limited idea or meaning which we have in using the word "community" we come to the rather quick and open conflict concerning the idea of "community" which we experience today. An approach, for example, that would be primarily sociological would easily emphasize an aspect of community or group asso-ciation that is the object of the science of sociology, and it would tend to emphasize the tools and instruments which this behavioral science normally employs. The same would be true if a psychologist Were to approach the same problem. Yet the theological dimensions of community, and the theological presuppositions of com-munity life within a religiously motivated group of per-sons, or a group which faces community with the back-ground of a faith vision, for example, sin-redemption, the ambiguity of man in the world, the manifold dimen-sions of the evangelical counsels, and so forth, might be ignored, even perhaps purposely or intentionally; and this, not because of any hostility toward these dimensions on the part of the experts involved, but simply because these dimensions might not be the specific area of con-cern or competence of a psychologist or sociologist. Yet the practical impact of this presentation could bring about a rather different net result than would be proper or correct; it might bring about a primacy of an entirely different value system as far as "community life in a re-ligiously motivated and assembled group" than should really be the case. The fault would not lie with the sciences or the experts in question, if and when they operate within the limited and specific sphere of their competence, but in the imperialistic attempt on the part of any one of them to make itself or himself supreme where and when it or he is not supreme. The same thing would be true in the case of the Scripture scholar or theologian if they attempted to pronounce on some topic or point which was a point of these sciences and not neces-sarily that of revelation. Thus, there are many complexities within the total understanding of "community life in religion," many of which are perhaps approached much too facilely and ~ See Donald N. Barrett, "The Sociology of Religion: Science and Action" in Sociological Analysis, Winter, 1967, pp. 177-8. without much depth of insight as to the real subtleties of the problem. There are theological or revealed dimen-sions of the idea of "community" which would show that the call to community is not really something special in the sense of unique to religious, such that only they are called to express this reality. All Christians are called to express it, even though not all are called to express it within the framework of associations such as religious are called to be. Moreover, this Christian approach or re-vealed approach to community would show that the Christian ethic gives to already existing human relation-ships new dimensions and exigencies by transforming them through a new specifically Christian basis: the life of the Pneuma of Christ. Secondly, there are other dimensions besides the re-vealed one. There are the behavioral dimensions men-tioned above, sociological, psychological, cultural, and so forth. And finally, there are juridical dimensions in-volved in the notion of "community," that is, certain legal requirements or dimensions established by the agency which gives a group its status, public or civil or ecclesial. In the case of religious communities of public vows, we are told that they are by definition stable forms of life, or stable life styles providing their membership with an organized way of living the evangelical counsels. And thus it is quite reasonable to expect that there would be in their case juridical dimensions to establish and as-sure this stability. This note is referred to in the Per[ectae caritatis and in the sixth chapter of Lumen gentium as well as in Ecclesiae sanctae. By reason of the religious community's being a public and official organ of the Church-sacrament, the hierarchical element of the Church gives it something of the incarnational structure and composition which the Church itself was given by Christ. It is for this reason that the hierarchical element of the Church approves not merely the soul or the spirit dimen-sion of a religious community's life style, but also the fundamental delineations of its body expression or its bodiliness--this for reasons of distinction, and comple-mentarity, organic solidarity, and related identity. The reasonableness of this juridical dimension for publicly approved religious institutes or communities does not mean that the counsels or a life dedicated to Christian service cannot be lived outside such a framework, or within a community or association of persons having no official or public approbation. Such groups have always existed in the Church historically, either by choice of the persons themselves who did not want any such approba-tion for one or other reason; or by choice of the approv-ing agency or arm, estimating that such a group or groups 4. 4, 4- Community Lite VOLUME Zg, 1970 541 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS do not have that degree of stability which they feel war-rants public approbation, at least for the time being.B These are only some of the factors involved in the problem of community and in the problem of man in community, of man looked at in the totality of his personality and condition. It is a problem that will never see any completion or perfectly satisfactory solution. But it would seem to the present writer that many of the problems or at least some of them which religious com-munities are facing today in their desire for renewal could better be resolved by a more clear-cut understand-ing of just what the problem is, or better, just where the sources of problematic lie. Then there must be a re-assertion of certain ideas, especially those of a theological nature, which are involved in the establishment of a community that gathers its members together for religious motives or purposes, those revealed within the Scriptures. In the expression "religious community" the adjective "religious" is just as important as the adjective "rational" in the expression "rational animal." And while it is true that this adjective does not describe all the dimensions and complexities involved in those associations of persons which we call religious institutes or communities, it does point to that dimension which distinguishes these kinds of associations from other kinds not based primarily on religious motives; Consequently, in the remainder of o This does not mean that one may not question the advisability of certain decisions regarding disciplinary and other such matters, for example, the current questioning regarding the legally im-posed uniform pattern for all apostolic institutes. Seeking a greater flexibility in the new legislation for the application of the particu-lar charisms of each institute is one thing; operating as if this were already an accomplished fact, without asking the permission to ex-periment contrary to the Code where this is requested by the compe-tent authority, and thereby facing authority with a fair accompli is quite another. If modern man claims to be so mature, it would seem that the presence of courtesy should be more present today than before. At times one wonders whether this is true. ~ In one of his weekly addresses the pope referred to one of the problems of our times as the phenomenon of anthropocentric reli-gion: "Religion must be by its very nature theocentric, oriented toward God as its first beginning and its final end. And after that toward man, considered, sought after, loved in terms of his divine derivation and of the relationships and duties which spring from such a derivation . To give in religion preeminence of humani-tarian tendencies brings on the danger of transforming theology into sociology, and of forgetting the basic hierarchy of beings and values. I am the Lord your God, and Christ teaches: You shall love the Lord your God. This is the greatest and the first command-ment . It should not be forgotten that to let sociological interest prevail over the properly theological interest can generate another dangerous difficulty, that of adopting the Church's doctrine to hu-man criteria, thus putting off the intangible criteria of revelation and the official ecclesiastical magisterium" (Address of July 10, 1968, Documentary News Service, Oct. 28, 1968). this article I would like to consider some oI the following areas: the nature of community life in religion, its pur-poses, and its ability to be expressed in different ways. The Nature of Community Life in Religion The early Church looked upon its community life as the expression or actualization of the commandment of Jesus--"That they may be one as you Father in me and I in you, that they may be (one) in us." s The very nature of community life in religion demands not just a juxta-position or lining up of persons; nor does it refer merely to a group that has come together for professional serv-ices of teaching or health care or social work of one kind or another. Nor does it refer to a group of merely naturally compatible personalities, or to persons who are forced to live together by reason of some kind of juridical or legal system of incorporation. It implies, rather, a community that has for its model and image the mystery of the Most Blessed Trinity. There we find per-fect oneness and perfect relationship, and yet also, perfect distinction--all of which are essential to constitute their mystery and meaning. The theological notion of community life is aimed at far more than the establishment of a herd mentality, or a common status in reference to material goods, "or to a rule or to certain visible interpersonal relationships estab-lished on certain natural grounds, even though these are in no wise to be excluded. It implies far more than mere interest groups living together, such as teachers or nurses or social workers, even though any one or several of these aspects might be found in community living, at least to some extent. Community life in religion demands that the members of the community live with each other in religion as the Father lives in community of life with His Son and with the Holy Spirit. It asks that the mem-bets of the group show clearly that the charactoe or~sucally Christian commandment of fraternal ~hariotry agape which is the end of the New Law reflects" or corresponds with the characteristic dogma of our Cl~ristian faith, the mystery of the Most Blessed Trinity. For a religious com-munity is one that is constituted or created by agape, in agape, and for agape. And agape is God's love shared in or participated in by men, and becoming operative in reference to other men. Agape is intimacy with God and with other men as God would love them Himself. It sur-passes purely natural sympathies, and dominating or in-stinctive antipathies, making us see other men as sons of God, sharing the divine good with ns and called to share in the society of the elect with ourselves. Agape makes us "Jn 17:20-1. ÷ ÷ ÷ Community Lile VOLUME 2% 54~ ÷ + + C. A. $chleck REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS regard the next person not as a stranger but as our brother, as part of ourselves, as one who is united to us by divine life and whose good we desire as we do our own, good. The Purposes o[ Community Life in Religion Coming to the purposes of community life in religion and viewing them within the framework of revelation, we find that there are a number of objectives which it tries to realize. Not all of these are equal, nor are they all found in exactly the same way .in different religious institutes. Briefly they would seem to be reducible to the. following: liberating or ascetical, charismatic, and apos-tolic. The Liberating or Ascetical Dimension The liberating dimension of community life in religion is quite evident even after only a short experience of living with others. We are quite aware that even in spite of ourselves, it does strip us of much disordered self-love which is at the root of all sin. It provides us and almost forces us to practice the various expressions of real agape, real faith, and real hope in its daily human expressions: Love is patient, love is kind, love is eager but never boast-ful or conceited; love takes no pleasure in other people's sins, but delights in the truth. It is always ready to ex-cuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes.9 The common life, in all its demands, acts as a marvelous means for self-giving and opening oneself more and more to and onto others. For most religious it is in practice the most constant occasion they have for personality build-ing, for self-denial, and self- and social-integration that lies at their disposal within the religious life. And this is true not merely in its domestic aspects, that is, in sharing work in the house, or recreation, of life within the frame-work of the religious residence, and common prayer in its various forms, but also in its service aspect, that is, in the common enterprise of the group.10 Community life in religion asks for collaboration with others in an operational community, such as a school or hospital or possibly a more loosely structured apostolate, such as social work. It usually involves a community in which the members have to fit together for a common work. This often means doing some things that one does not always like doing. It also involves that one be pre-pared to face the likelihood that often there may not be the exact kinds of diversions, distractions, ~'elaxations, and so forth that one would especially like. There are ~ I Cor 14:4ff. 1°See J. Coventry, S.J., in Religious Formation, Blackfriars, 1963, "Modern Individualism and Comxnunity Life," p. 37. reasons for this, other values which the community is at-tempting to give witness to: for example, eschatological values, Christological values, ascetical values, ecclesial values, those which are in keeping with the community's total mission within the Church. This ascetical or liberating aspect of community life forms part of the community's witness to the death-resur-rection mystery of the Lord. It witnesses to the fact that persons of different backgrounds, training, intellectual and social capabilities, can still live in Unity and commu-nion, in fact are called to li#e in unity and communion, and this in Christ and through Him, not primarily be-cause of mutual compatibility, but because they are called by the same agape and molded by the same agape. Con-sequently, religious are not entirely free---eVen though they freely accept this limitation of their freedom with the frustrations that this is inevitably going to mean--to reshape or arbitrarily modify their situations, seeking out the most congenial possible local community or select circle of collaborators. Such an approach to community life in religion is like matching blood types and would be just about as evangelical and gospel-motivated. Now in saying this I do not wish to give the impression that some of the attempts being made to establish smaller living groups is opposed to the gospel. It can be a good thing, especially when the motives are very much in keep-ing with the gospel values, a better image of poverty, a better spirit of personal and communal prayer, in short, if the motives are primarily for the establishment of a better religious atmosphere, and this not merely as a kind of an unfounded dream, but as a realistic probabil-ity. Moreover, such a group could provide for a better. sense of belonging. But here we must question the forma-tion of small fraternities among religious which are based primarily and almost exclusively on other values, socio-logical and psychological. The writer would still wager an educated guess that ev

Issue 66.3 of the Review for Religious, 2007. ; Spiritual Legacy Challenges The Feminine Apostolic Direction QUARTERLY 66.3 2007 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ Pontifical College Josephinum 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2007 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~gournalof Catholic Spiri~uali[y eview for religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Webmaster Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Clare Boehmer ASC Martin Erspamer OSB Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD Miriam D. Ukeritis csJ QUARTERLY 66.3 2007 contents prisms 228 Prisms legacy spiritual 230 Christian Mindfulness Ernest E. L~lrkin OCarm shares an understanding of Christian m~ndNlness that integrates this spiritual practice with recollection, the practice of the presence of God, and the sacrament of the present moment. This article is published in a slightly different edited form as chapter eight in Larkin's posthumously published book, Come'i~. plative Prayer.for Tod~y: Christian Meditations, Medio Media, 2007. challenges 248 Clericalism ,and the Religious Life Edward L. Krasevac oP discusses how various entidements that are mar,ks of "clericalism" manifest theinselves in seven different styles of living out the ministerial among male religious who are priests, priesthood Questionfs ,o' rR e felc t i o n is/Dcussion 265 Conversati],'ons on Eucharist Patrick Scan~ Moffett CFC suggests some ways of reviewing the role of ~e daily Eucharist in our lives as we face possible days when there is no Eucharistic celebration accessible. Prayer Review for Religious 276 283 the feminine ~ Mary and the Magnificat Damian C. Ilodigwe proposes that Mary's life challenges us to take seriously the responsibilities that accompany the privilege of being a Christian. Margaret, the Woman of Becchi Leo Hereto SDB relates the story of Margaret Bosco, the mother of John Bosco, and her influence on the beginnings of the Salesian mission. 288 apostolic direction Discernment in Common as Cooperative Inquiry David Coghlan SJ introduces cooperative inquiry as a form of action research that is compatible with the kind of faith activity that discernment is and accords with how discernment in common may be conducted. 302 Early Jesuit Strategies John P. Mossi SJ points out that early Jesuit strategies found in the Spiritual Exercises and Jesuit directives regarding discretion and empathic listening can be helpful in fostering reform and unity today. Questions for Reflection/Discussi0n 316 32O departments Scriptur,e Scope: The Great Journey in Luke's Gospel Canonical Counsel: Sharing Information in Confidential Matters 326 Book Renews 227 66.3 2007 prisms 228 P. rayer is a subject that merits consistent attention by writers in every age. In our own time it probably would take quite a long bibliography to list the titles of books written on prayer in any one year. In this issue of our journal, we feature the last article on prayer written by Father Ernest Larldn OCarm shortly before he died (1922- 2006). The article itself has been published as the eighth and final chapter of his book pub-lished posthumously, Contemplative Prayer for Today: Christian Meditation, Medio Media, 2007. Father Larkin's interest in prayer and his shar-ing of insights and personal experience mark his apostolic ministry of teaching, writing, and con-ducting retreats. Larkin served on our advisory board from 2001 to 2005 when because of health reasons he excused himself a year early from finishing his term. As editor I was especially delighted that he had agreed to serve on the advisory board. Surely he brought the gifts of his Carmelite her-itage, his teaching acumen, and his rich pasto-ral experience. But for me Father Ernest Larkin brought much more. He had been my mentor, along with Father Kieran Kavanaugh OCD, and my dissertation director during my doctorate Review for Religious studies at Catholic University of America. Both of these men initiated this Jesuit into the world of spirituality and mysticism, especially viewed from a Carmelite perspec-tive. I am forever grateful. Because of the intensity of dissertation supervision, Ernie Larkin and I spent a good deal of time together. He was always gracious, he was evidendy holy, and he could be gendy demanding--a most wonderful set of qualities to get a doctorate student to finish his dissertation on time. One example. After reading and research for one semester, I met with Ernie Larkin, who announced that he wanted a first chapter written now in two weeks' time. Weakly I protested that I still had more reading to do. He smiled and said I could read and I could also write. Ever thereafter I was kept to a regular schedule, and I finished within the semester. We always remained friends, though seldom interacting until he accepted my invitation to be a board member. Why would Ernie want to be remembered especially for his interest in and contribution to our lives of prayer? He would simply say that our most important relationship is with God. If a relationship is to develop and deepen, it demands time spent together. Conversation is most important as a way of sharing, but sharing takes many forms, often just being together in rest and in activity. We are talking about prayer, sometimes with words, at other times with still presence. Prayer, our relationship with God, was the center of Ernest Larkin's life. As he often said, "pray and God will ¯come." That is what he shared with us, even in his final book. May he be enjoying his eternal presence with God, the God of his life. ¯David L. Fleming SJ [229 66.3 2007 ERNEST E. LARKIN Christian Mindfulness spiritual legacy 230] Several classic disciplines in traditional Christian spirituality cultivate attentiveness and awareness of God and divine things. They are recollection, the practice of the presence of God, and the sac-rament of the present moment, all venerable exer-cises in the Christian life. Recollection, a concept and practice dear to St. Teresa of Avila, means in her words that "the soul collects its faculties together and enters within itself to be with its God.''1 She goes on to say that the soul is "cen-tered there within itself." Recollection allows one to meet God in the depths of one's being. The practice of the presence of God is cultivating alertness to one of the many ways God is pres-ent and relating to that presence by brief acts of recognition and prayer. The sacrament of the present moment sees each activity in life as an opportunity to meet God. Mindfulness is similar Ernest E. Larkin OCarm wrote on aspiratory prayer for us a year ago. He died shortly after writing the present article. Revieva for Religious to these three practices, but with its own emphasis. As a Christian practice it is a newcomer on the block. Its name and its particular approach come from the East, particularly from Buddhism. Christian mindfulness adds to God's presence special attention to the concrete and finite aspects of each action. The present article examines Christian mindfulness for the light it throws both on Christian Meditation itself and on conduct between the times of formal meditation. Mindfulness is precisely what we endeavor to do in the practice of Christian Meditation, in which saying the mantra is the prayer. In the rest of the day, we~ cultivate mindfulness to make it a prominent feature of our ongo-ing consciousness. The older practices highlight awareness of God's pres-ence and will be a diredt line of communication between the person and God. Here lies a possible limitation, which might be called abstractness. It is too easy for the remembrance of God's presence, especially on the run, to be a mere nod of the mind to a theological truth with minimal resonance in one's being. Mindfulness offers the missing piece, namely, a real presence to what one is doing at a given moment. Mindfulness emphasizes the presence of our total selves in the moment. Actually true recollection demands this too, but the full presence is too easily forgotten. Mindfulness will not let us forget this aspect. So the two disciplines, recollection and mindfulness, together and separately, emphasize full commitment of one's whole being to the moment at hand. They demand the aware-ness of one's self, the actidn, and the God who is there. The shorthand for true recollection and Christian mind-fulness is presence to the moment, a phrase we hope to elucidate in this paper. Presence to the moment is concentrated or focused attention; it means being "all there." Often we are only 66.3 2007 Larkin ¯ Christian Mindfulness Presence to the moment is concentrated or focused attention; it means being "all there." half there, present in body but miles away in thought. John of the Cross alludes to a well-known scholastic adage when he writes that "the soul lives where she loves more than in the body she animates.''2 The schoolboy is already out on the playing field as he impatiendy looks at the clock and waits for it to strike the end of the school day. In mindfulness we are present in love to what we are actually doing. We are present contemplatively, that is, with our whole person-- body, soul, and spirit--and not just with our mind or half-hearted will. We do not act absentmindedly or on automatic pilot. True presence is steady, nondiscursive attention, which at the same time is relaxed and self-possessed. St. Th4r~se of Lisieux is a perfect example of mind-fulness. According to Ida Friederike Gtrres, she "accom-plished the apparently impossible feat of being, every moment, in a state of sharply focused, intensely controlled alertness, and at the same time completely spontaneous in all that she did.''3 Monica Furlong says that Th4r~se gave up fantasies and impossible dreams in favor of living in the present and making her little acts of love and acceptance. "Her 'Little Way,'" she writes, "was, in some curious way, the reversal of everything she had been taught, the inflated form~of Christianity with its dreams of sanctity and mar-tyrdom. Now she saw that all you were asked to do was follow the will of God, whatever it might be, and to give yourself unreservedly to that life and to no other.''4 Thgr~se, according to her novice mistress, was "mys-tic, comic, everything . She could make you weep with Revi~ for tCetigious devotion and just as easily split your sides with laughter during recreation.''5 That is full presence to each chang-ing moment of the day. Hans Urs von Balthasar concurs with these words about Th~r~se: At each moment, her sole concern is to carry out the will of God as it was revealed to her second to second. ¯. Th~r~se never tries to dominate the course of events. In a very womanly fashion, she simply tries to receive everything, and to receive it lovingly. For her, every moment comes so fresh and immediately from the hand of God . [Th~r~se writes:] "I just keep concentrating on the present moment. I forget the past and preserve myself from worries about the future."6 There are also plenty of examples of the opposite of mindfulness. Here is one example from Tilden Edwards from the comic strip Calvin and Hobbes.7 Calvin does not like to relate to real experiences, because they are not clear; they are unpredictable and hard to figure out. He prefers to stay on the outside of things, and that is why he likes life filtered through television. That way he doesn't have to think. He can follow the action with "_,lazed eyes and partial attention. Everything is neat ano tidy, but very superficial. Reducing reality in this way is to take the mystery out of life. It is to fail to be fully present to the moment. Mindlessness is lazy thinking or failure to think at all. It allows one to gloss over things. But if we want to live intentionally with commitment to what we are about, we have to gather up ourselves in recollection and be involved in what we are doing. It is a short step to being in touch with the God hidden in the moment. That is what the Christian practice of recollection and mindful-ness attempt to do. Two entries in Thomas Merton's journals illustrate the contrast between mindfulness and mindlessness. They 66.3 2007 Larkin ¯ Christian Mindfulness occur at the end of the time he was working through an experience of falling in love with a young woman, the nurse who cared for him in the hospital. He registers in detail the emotional roller coaster he was on over a period of several months. Toward the end of the struggle he made this entry, which is an experience of mindfulness: June 15, 1966 . . . This morning for the first time, really since going to the hospital, I have real inner free-dom and solitude--I love M. but in a different way, peacefully and without disturbances or inner tension. I feel that once again I am all here. I have finally returned to my place and to my work, and am beginning once again to be what I am.8 Contrast this presence to himself with the fragmentation a month later, indicating that the struggle to deal with his emotions was not over: July 14, 1966 . . . Noted general dispersion and dis-tractedness all yesterday, obviously [because of being busy on errands in town], and all night. Only recovered a real awake mindfulness after about 3 hours of reading etc. this morning. The other state was of an anxious, disoriented consciousness, not properly centered, and making erratic and desperate acts calling on God, try-ing to recover orientation, thinking of M., questioning self, fearing consequences of imprudence etc.9 Note how Merton tried to regain mindfulness from his distracted mind by reading, reflection, and no doubt prayer. The need is to enter into one's, self; just being busy is a challenge, but often an excuse for many-mindedness or mindlessness. Mindfulness is one form of pondering events in the way Mary does in the Gospels. It is not enough to be amazed as the shepherds were at Bethlehem. We have to ponder them as Mary did and enter into them, seeking understanding, tuning in to the divine presence mani-fested there. We need to listen with a third ear and sit with mystery. Each moment is a revelation, a unique gift Revie~ for Religiou~ from God. We enter it with wonder and gratefulness and with a receptive heart. This is contemplative living; it is living in God's presence and cultivating the moment. Buddhist Mindfulness Mindfulness has an Eastern flavor and is practiced there in various styles of yoga and meditation and martial arts. In its Eastern practice it has a different philosophi-cal foundation and a different goal from the Christian form. But the Buddhist practice is transferable to a Christian setting by the simple but immensely important addition of the presence of - God. In Buddhist mindful-ness the only object is to be totally present to what one is doing. It does not make any reference to God, because Buddhism is non-theistic and has no personal God. The Absolute, the God of the Buddhists, is outside their purview of reality; God is unavailable and totally unknowable, beyond the grasp of the human mind. So Buddhist mindfulness settles for seeking total presence to the moment without distraction or divided attention. We believe that we can learn to be present from this practice, but also to include God in the presence. In this way we are baptizing it for Christian usage. We call it Christian usage. We call it Christian mindfulness. Our standing Christian tradition teaches us to go to God through creation, through the finite and the con-crete. All experience of God is mediated. The East can tell us something we always knew. It can help us see our tradition in a new light and realize how important the finite and the.concrete are in the spiritual life. We find The more down-to-earth i,we are the less we fly off in flights of fancy. 66.3 2007 Larkin ¯ Christian Mindfulness 236 God by going through the human. It is only a manner of speaking for us to say that we get beyond creatures to find God. Our goal is ultimately awareness of the Trinity and participation in life with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. We attain this goal best by paying attention to the vehicle that brings us there, that is, our created activity. We are helped by being rooted in the existential moment. We are a sacramental people. The more down-to-earth we are, planting our feet squarely on the ground, the less we fly off in flights of fancy and the closer we are to reality and therefore to God. We are an incarnational people, and we believe we find Christ in every crevice of the human condition. Since the incarnation, and espe-cially since the resurrection, Christ is at the center of the universe and part of every human action. Listen to these words of Karl Rahner, who puts them in the mouth of Christ: "I am the blind alleys of all your paths, for when you no longer know how to go any further, then you have reached me, foolish child, though you are not aware to it."~° We find Christ by going through, not around, creation. This is to follow what is called the "analogical imagination" by writers like David Tracy, or the "Catholic imagination" by William E Lynch SJ or Andrew Greeley. Mindfulness helps us reclaim our birthright. The Buddhist teaching on mindfulness can help us see these truths more clearly. A signature example of the Buddhist mode is wash-ing the dishes when you are washing the dishes. It is the quaint trademark ofthe Vietnamese Buddhist, Thich Nhat Hanh, in his book The Miracle of Mindfulness. He writes: While washing the dishes, you might be thinking about the tea afterwards, and so try to get them out of the way as quickly as possible in order to sit and drink tea. But that means you are incapable of living dur- Review for Religious ing the time you are washing the dishes. When you are washing the dishes, washing the dishes must the most important thing in your life. Just as when you are drifiking tea, drinking tea must be the most important thing in your life.ll The inner meaning of the Buddha's teaching on mind-fulness is found in the Sattipatthanda Sutta, and it is summarized in the following words of a Buddhist com-mentator: Mindfulness deepens mental concentration (samatha) in the direction of meditation insight (vipassana). In mind-fulness the disciple dwells in contemplation of the body, feelings, and thoughts. Through being concentrated and mindful of these factors of our life, and by clearly comprehending through insight their true nature, the hate and greed, of sorrow and grief, is overcome and Nibbana [nirvana] is attained,lz Samatha and vipassana describe two different kinds of Buddhist meditation, the former seeking tranquillity and the latter insight.13 Both goals are the fruit of total pres-ence. Listen to Nhat Hanh's description of washing the dishes: "While washing the dishes one should only be washing the dishes, which means that while washing the dishes one should be completely aware of the fact that one is washing the dishes.''~4 The total presence is the heart of meditation in the East. A similar presence, but with the addition of a Trinitarian component, is the goal of Christian Meditation as taught by John Main. When I engage in the practice of Christian Meditation, I do not imagine God or anything else. I simply try to be totally present to my deepest self and to the God who dwells there. To the extent that I am successful, I am giving my full focused attention to my interior being and to the Trinity. I am not thinking about God or about any thing. I am practicing contemplation, that is, I am in communion with the real and the Real. 66.3 2007 Larkin ¯ Christian Mindfulness 238] It is important to know that John Main does not equate contemplation with special psychological experience of God. Contemplation for him is an existential act; it is participation or communion with God. In true mindful-ness I am acting at the level of my being's spirit, and I am truly free and loving. I touch both the reality of God and my own deepest reality. Free and loving presence to the present moment is the essence of mindfulness and meditation. You wash the dishes to wash the dishes, intentionally and with as little distraction as possible, not to impress your neighbor or even to provide clean dishes. These motives are extrane-ous and pertain to the future. You want to stay in the now. To accomplish that you need to be present to yourself. Here is a wise story from Mobi Ho, the translator of The Miracle of Mindfulness. She recalls in the preface an inci-dent when she was cooking furiously and had to stop and search for a missing spoon. She was obviously agitated. Thay came into the room and smiled and said, "What is Mobi looking for?" "The spoon," she answered, perhaps a bit petulandy. Thay answered with another smile: "No, Mobi is looking for Mobi.''15 Why Mindfulness Is Important Our distractions come from our divided and disordered selves. Our desires are the product of our many-minded-ness, and this in turn comes from our lack of integration. Our desires need to be integrated with our whole person and with what we are about at the moment. Our thought needs to be one-pointed and simple, an accomplishment that takes practice,, discipline, and grace. Practice in meditation and in mindfulness will develop the virtues needed and give me a handle on my desires. Perfect mindfulness will neutralize the warring factions within me and let me be absorbed by what I am doing. Review for Religious In this latter case I will have achieved what the psycholo-gists call the deautomatization of my desires. This means that I have neutralized the impulses and desires I do not want. Instead I can concentrate on my true wishes. The unwanted desires dry up and atrophy for lack of nurture.16 From a moral or spiritual point of view I have let my faith inform and animate all my behavior. I have attained true freedom and perfect love. I have achieved what John Cassian called purity of heart. Nhat Hahn celebrates the personal freedom in mind-ful activity in these words: The fact that I am standing there and washing these bowls is wondrous reality. I am being completely myself, following my breath, my presence, and con-scious of my thoughts and actions. There is no way I can be tossed around mindlessly like a bottle slapped here and there on the waves?7 The Christian adds the further element of the good inten-tion and remembering God's presence. I am present to God and receiving the impact of his presence, which is a fact before and after I am aware of it. I do not consti-tute that presence. I am alive with the presence of God. This aspect is not something extraneous and accidental. It belongs to the nature of things, to the immanence of God in all of creation. God's delight is to be with the children of this world, in our sorrow and in our own delights. This presence is for our sakes and our salvation. Christians emphasize the presence of God in all things, but they may tend to forget the envelope that contains it. Persons, actions, events are the medium through which God comes. The given moment is the only place one can meet God. In God there is no time, only the eternal now. God lives in that now moment on the other side of the veil that separates time from eternity. We enter the ves-tibule of that "now" when we concentrate on the present 66.3 2007 Larkin ¯ Christian Mindfulness 240 moment. Our beloved God is there, and it behooves us to be there as well. To enter the now moment is to let anxiety fall off our shoulders and to be renewed in hope by touching the God who loves us. The more that a person possesses herself, the more present she can be. She must be "all there," alert, aware, attentive, in a word, fully present. Intellectualizing or head knowledge is of little value. An abstract recall or thinking about God's presence in the here and now is not enough. The knowledge must be holistic and experiential, beyond mere thinking, beyond mind alone. What we need is heart knowledge. I am more than my thoughts or my mind, and therefore I must not identify with my mind or my ego. In mindfulness we stand before the Lord, "watching and waiting." We do not control the relationship, and we are there to receive a gift. Every moment is a gift from God, and we are aware of that fact. Every moment can be an occasion of contemplation, that is, an opportunity to realize God's love. The contemplative walks in the pres-enceof God in a moment-to-moment experience of God's love. The condition for the gift is to be present there, body, soul, and spirit. Mindfulness fights the enemies of wholeness and culti-vates full presence to God. The enemies of wholeness are what divide us, such as our addictions and compulsions, our unfreedoms and attachments, our sins and imperfec-tions. They undermine our love of God. Mindfulness faces these temptations head on by maintaining attention to the call of faith. We are thoroughly present to the moment because it is God's call for us at that time. Mindfulness recognizes distractions, calls them by name, then lets them pass, all the while gently focusing on the moment. As focused or nondiscursive attention, mindfulness helps us rise above what John Main calls the "monkey chat-ter" of the distracted mind. Mindless persons are unrooted Revie~ for Religio~s and tmcentered, so they tend to flit about from one distrac-tion to another, dissipated in their energies, prisoners of unrecognized consumerism and self-glorification. Mindless persons live outside themselves and engage only the part of themselves that is needed to satisfy the passing whim. They tend to be dilettantes and escapists. They have no depth or solid ground within themselves on which to rest commitments. They are more vulnerable to the winds of change around them and readily given to worry and anxiety simply because they do not realize that "God is near" (Ph 4:5). Excessive "busyness" is lack of mindfulness. Busyness is a cultural demon of our time, an escape or excuse from the hard work of concentration and the duty one is trying to avoid. Busyness is a wolf in sheep's clothing, because it looks like virtue but actu-ally is a whole array of self-interest clustered around pride or self-indulgence. It is an ego trip and the enemy of charity. Look more closely at its manifestations and you will find a driven and com-pulsive spirit that hurts one's health, peace of mind, and awareness of others. Over-busy persons are trying to prove themselves by the sheer quantity of their output. The more they do, the more they feed their self-satisfac-tion, basking in the imagined plaudits of the multitude. There is little charity in this addiction, appearances to the contrary notwithstanding. The motivation in busyness is ego-enhancement, the desire to impress, even to show up the neighbor, Busyness is ersatz zeal. The reason why mindfulness is good and its opposite bad is that one is the expression of the true self and the Our unfreedoms and attachments Undermine our loveof God. 66.3 2007 Larkin * Christian Mindfulness 242 other the offspring of the false self. The true self comes from the deeper strata of our being, from our spirit, and it carries body and psyche with it. Thus it incarnates more of ourselves in its choices than does the splintered false self. The true self acts from the heart and not from self-deception or flee-floating emotions. It acts virtuously because it is rooted in God. Sensibility, our superficial self, is the home of our false self, because ego is at home there and ego goes its own way. The false self is self-serving by nature. It comes out of primitive experiences of life that set in place ways of coping with threats to one's security or self-importance. Our sensi-bility has to be redeemed and put at the service of charity by being ordered and integrated into our lives. Then the ego serves rather than seeks to be served. In these cases the true self has taken over. Wholeness has been restored and the Holy Spirit has become the fountain of living water spring-ing up to eternal life (In 4:14 and Jn 7:3 6-3 7). Mindfulness is a sign that the good spirit is in possession. How Do I Get It? One important final question is the practice: how do I become more mindful? The answer is: cultivate a vibrant spiritual life. Mindfulness is a by-product of mature holi-ness. But are there special means for growing in the prac-tice and skill? How can I become more mindful? I want to suggest two special means. One is meditation itself; the other is the basic condition of all prayer, purity of heart. These are the two arms for embracing God, the pincer movements of the spiritual life. They will bring us to mindfulness. First, mindfulness is the outcome of faithfulness to the two periods of Christian Meditation each day, since medi-tation itself is explicit and prolonged mindfulness. Practice makes perfect; obviously meditation will foster the habit Re~ie~ for Religious of mindfulness. Conventional wisdom says: find God in daily prayer and you will find God everywhere. The Sufi came out of his prayer room and said: I went to the mar-ketplace and found God everywhere. The contrary is also true: without prayer life you will not find God. General mindfulness throughout the day is a diffuse presence to God. How could this be maintained, if it is not nourished by a focused or concentrated presence? How be mindful of God in the comings and goings of the day if one never takes time to meet God face-to-face? We need to focus on the Lord, to come aside and find rest for our souls. Otherwise we will not recognize God when he appears in the disguise of other people or works of charity. The two periods of Christian Meditation come from a long tradition. One of the outstanding teachers of recol-lection, the contemporary and early teacher of Teresa of Avila, Francisco de Osuna, recommended two periods of formal meditation a day, each of them an hour's length. Osuna writes: "You are to retire into your heart and leave all created things for the length of two hours, one hour before and the other after noon, at the most quiet time possible."18 During the rest of the day the mind is to be occupied with lectio divina, the author agreeing with St. Bonaventure that "no one can call himself devoted to the sacred passion unless he spends most of [the day] contem-plating it in one manner or another."19 The two hours a day suggested by Osuna may be beyond the possibilities for many people, and periods of twenty to thirty minutes have proved workable for most people today. The second way to cultivate mindfulness is. purity of heart. It is as important as formal prayer, because the measure of one's purity of heart is the measure of one's prayer. Again this is the constant teaching of the Christian tradition.from John Cassian to Teilhard de Chardin. What is purity of heart? It is detachment, and specifically affec- 66.3 2007 Larkin ¯ Christian Mindfulness Affective detachment comes from effective detachment, tive detachment. This is the freedom of the will before choices. This freedom is cultivated especially by effective detachment, which is the actual renunciation of what-ever stands in the way to one's service of God. Affective detachment comes from effective detachment. In the Western traditon, renundation is the way to recol-lection. Writers like Frandsco de Osuna, Teresa of Avila, and John of the Cross underline the gospel teaching that we must leave all things to follow the Lord. A recent exponent of this age-old tradition is Pope Benedict XVI, who put the teach-ing in fresh language to his interviewer, Peter Seewald, shortly before the death of John Paul 11: "When it comes down to it," Cardinal Ratzinger said, "everyone has to undergo his own Exodus. He not only has to leave the place that nurtured him and become independent, but has to come out of his own reserved self. He must leave himself behind, transcend his own limits; only then will he reach the Promised Land, so to speak,m° Christian teachers generally emphasize the physi-cal renunciation of legitimate goods and pleasures, such as marriage or possessions or worldly honors; they call for the renunciation of all desires. These are refrains in their writing, and modern readers are easily put off by such total demands. But contemporary readers need to be reminded that these classic directives are always in the context of God's will. God's particular will for each person is the controlling factor for renouncing goods. The wholesale rejecton of desires applies to disordered desires. Discernment identfies the immediate will of God, and this is the criterion for choices. 244 Review for Religious The language in this tradition can betray us. Osuna, for example, presents recollection as the way to divine union, and it involves transcending, that is, going beyond all creatures. The person must be "blind, deaf, and dumb to everything that is not God." We need to "guard the heart with all vigilance, unburdening and clearing it of all created things, so that the one who created it may emerge with the life of grace.''2~ The cost of divine union is "not less than everything." The sweeping language might make one think that the whole of creation must be rejected. Not so, these authors tell us. The everything to be by-passed is the all that is in competition or opposed to God. The teaching on recollection attributes the same high efficacy as mindfulness, but also makes the same demands for its functioning. Karl Rahner in an essay on the Holy Eucharist says that recollection demands letting go of all false and harmful things.2z The teaching is founded on the pas-chal mystery, the death and resurrection of the Lord, which is "the innermost law of our lives." Baptism initiates us into this mystery and the Holy Eucharist renews the commit-ment. Eucharistic life, he writes, embraces the total profane life of the Christian, the "everyday" of the followers of Jesus. We die and rise with Jesus Christ, not only at Mass and in Holy Communion, but in our everyday behavior. How can we manage so sublime a calling? Rahner's answer is recol-lection, which he defines as "withdrawing into ourselves" and from there making the right choices at each moment. Withdrawing into ourselves is not copping out or fleeing the scene. It is being our true selves and living intentionally. Get beyond the distractions, turn off the constant radio, stop the "empty talk and gossip," avoid wasting time with worthless reading, and pull back from the "over-busy and all devour-ing fulfillment of one's duty, [from the busyness which is] an excuse for avoiding our real duty."~3 Enter into yourselves, so that you are your true selves. 66.3 2007 Larkin * Christian l~lindfulness 246 Recollection is no flight from life, but "ricing uP to ourselves as we really are, confronting ourselves instead of seeking solace in chatter, conversations, mere external dissipations." Holy Communion commits me to "accept my everyday just as it is. I do not need to have any lofty feelings in my heart to recount . I can lay my everyday before [God] just as it is. in all its pettiness and trivial-ity." z4 Christian recollection is another word for Christan mindfulness, and these two are at the heart of our search for God that comprises the two daily periods of contem-plative prayer that are Christian Meditation. Notes I The Way of Perfection 28.4. 2 Spiritual Canticle B, 5.3. 3 Cited from Ida Friederike G6rres's Hidden Face in John Donohue SJ'S article "Th~r~se of Lisieux, Doctor of the Church," America 177 (13 December 1997): 16. 4 Monica Furlong, Thdr~se of Lisieux (New York: Pantheon Books, 1987), p. 96. s Cited in Donohue, "Th~r~se," p. 16. 6 Hans Urs von Balthasar, Two Sisters in the Spirit: Th~r~se of Lisieux and Elizabeth of the Trinity, trans. Donald Nichols and Ann Elizabeth Englund (San Francisco: Ignatius press, 1992) pp. 66-67. 7 "Valuing the Living Moment," Shalem News, cited in Kinospirit (November 1995): 2. s Learning to Love: The~ournals of Thomas Merton 6, ed. Christine M. Bochen (HarperSanFrancisco, 1997), p. 84. 9 Merton, Learning, p. 95. 10 The Great Church Year: The Best of Karl Rahner's Homilies, Sermons, and Meditations, ed. Albert Raffelt (New York: Crossroad, 1993), p. 51. 11 Thich Nhat Hahn, Miracle of Mindfulness (Boston: Beacon Press, 1987), p. 24. 12 Ven. Dr. Dhammarakkhita, "Mindfulness and Loving-Kindness Meditation," The Gethsemani Encount~ ed. Donald W. Mitchell and James A. Wiseman OSB (New York: Continuum, 1998), pp. 35-41, at 35. 13 William Rehg SJ, "Christian Mindfulness," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 34, no. 3 (May 2002): 1-9. Review for Religious 14 Rehg, "Christian." is Rehg, "Christian." t6 Philip Novak, "The Practice of Attention," Parabola 15 (May 1990): 10-12; Arthur J. Deikman, "Deautomatization and the Mystic Experience," Psychiatry 29 (1966): 324-338. ~7 Thich Nhat Hahn, Miracle, p. 4. ~s Francisco de Osuna, The Third Spiritual Alphabet, trans. Mary E. Giles (New York: Paulist Press, 1981), p. 388. ~90suna, Third, p. 177. 20 Paul Elie, "The Year 0fTwo Popes," Atlantic Monthly 297 (January- February 2006): 71. 2, Osuna, Third, p. 132. 22 Karl Rahner, "The Eucharist and Our Daily Lives," Theological Investigations 7, trans. David Bourke (New York: Herder and Herder, 1971), pp. 211-226. 23 Rahner, "Eucharist," p. 221. 24 Rahner, "Eucharist," p. 222. Metronome Fingers nimbly running up down over ebony and ivory Unfolding medleys of joy mourning glory Euphoric allegro highs., soaring Plummeting . soulful adagio lows Soothing largo interludes inviting Carefree scherzo playfulness., dancing With rhythmic rhapsodic blues Tapping to the tempo Of happy-go-lucky whim or deep contemplation A symphonic score of a life grace-fully written Melodically enjoyed harmonically played Ticking to a metronome's beating heart. Walter Bunofsky SVD 66.3 2007 EDWARD KRASEVAC Clericalism and the Religious Life challenges Many descriptions and definitions of clericalism have been suggested since the Second Vatican Council, and a number of them seem to have this characteristic: a sense of entitlement,1 as if the priesthood were something other than a ministry of loving service in imitation of Christ or as if its center of gravity were in something other than such service. Indeed, I understand clericalism largely if not exclusively as a spu-rious entitlement, an entitlement to privileges that do not stem from the following of Christ in his ministry of service, but rather from prosaic aspects of human nature.2 Clericalism has often been understood with reference to secular or diocesan pastors and their relation to the people under their pastoral care, 248 Edward L. Krasevac OP is professor of theology at the Dominican School of Philosophy and Theology at the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley, California. In 1987 he wrote for us about Eckhart and John of the Cross and in 2002 about the relation of temperaments to lib-eral/ conservative stances. His address is 2301 Vine Street; Berkeley, California 94708. ekrasevac@dspt.edu Review for Religious to their peers and bishop, and to the structures of the diocese and church, rather than with reference to reli-gious priests, who usually live a quite different style of priesthood, one heavily influenced by the structures and charisms of their religious institute. But I surmise that clericalism is alive and well among religious priests also, although it is heavily colored--and often camouflaged-- by the dynamics of religious life) Clericalism is not the only source for the entidements I will describe below, but I think it is often operative in the seven styles of being a religious priest that I will describe. Each of these styles manifests habits that undermine the service character of the priesthood. The types are not exclusive, and some of us bear characteristics of more than one in our lives as priests. In what follows I hope to stir up self-knowledge among religious priests so that our priesthood may not easily become something other than it was meant to be. In reflecting unwarranted entidements, the various types appear "negative," but positive elements appear in them, too. I will take note of these in the hope of showing that at least some of the types are legitimate ways of being a religious priest. The Ambitious Priest The "ambitious priest" loves the possession or exercise of authority, with the accompanying prestige and perqui-sites. Some priests seek the simple possession of author-ity (in the congregation as a superior or in the church as a bishop); other priests seek not only the possession of authority but also its exercise. The religious priests who are ambitious only for the possession of authority often lack the drive and discipline to exercise it effectively; they are content with the prestige and perks of office. Their ambition may stem from a desire not to have to obey others or from their own insecurities. These priests are t249 66.3 2007 Krasevac ¯ Clericalism and the Religious Life Ambitious p iests are usually committed,to values of collaboration, consultation, or collegiality in! the exercise of authori usually not energized by authority itself. It is not author-ity itself that draws them, but rather the accoutrements of authority. Their possession of authority does not make them dangerous--they generally do not hurt others or the common good by their exercise of it--but, negatively, their office is not used for the good of their brethren and those the congregation serves. Other ambitious priests seek authority precisely in order to exercise it, and are often energetic and talented (they may, of course, also be interested in the prestige and perks of office). There are many reasons for this type of ambition: a need to control others, a desire to redress per-ceived injuries done to them by their brethren, the imposition of their own deeply felt values on others (in cases where more collegial methods of persuasion have failed), or sim-ply the exercise of power for its own sake. Ambition in these cases is usually ambition for author-ity as power over others in contrast to authority as service to others. And so ambitious priests, in either of the senses just described, are usually not committed to values of col-laboration, consultation, or collegiality in the exercise of authority,4 but tend to understand it as a personal privi-lege that should be possessed and exercised according to their own best lights and interests. Ambitious priests can have two quite different rela-tionships to ministry. In some cases they are not much involved in ministry at all, at least not very effectively, Review for Religious because they always have their eyes on "what's next," the further rung of the ladder (which requires, among other things, lots of time and energy given to internal politics). Those they serve often feel that they are only half listen-ing or responding, because their heart is elsewhere. In other cases ambitious priests throw themselves into min-istry because they know that a crowded rdsum6 can bring advancement sooner. But this success assumes effective- . ness that can be measured quantitatively, such as financial or building success. Nonetheless, ambitious priests in the second sense are often disciplined and hardworking and can appear outstanding in ministry. The entitlement operative here is for authority as power over others: a priest deserves to exercise authority and receive obedience, even if that authority and obedi-ence are not direcdy exercised in the service of his breth-ren or those whom he serves in ministry.5 Although ambition for authority as power over others is a false entidement of clericalism, ambition for author-ity as service to others may well be warranted, taking the form of actively seeking office or accepting it when prof-fered even against one's desires. Since holding office in the church these days is more often a burden than a blessing, the church needs those with the talent, motivation, and ¯ generosity for service to step forward. But, since ambition for power can be present under the mande of ambition for service, strict personal honesty is crucial. For this, dia-logue with others is essential to discerning Whether I wish to serve others in seeking or accepting a particular office, or rather wish to serve myself. Part of this discernment might be to ask myself whether I am willing to forgo perquisites of office that are not necessary for its effective exercise, or am willing to step aside if a more appropriate candidate emerges. Ambition for authority in the church requires, it seems to me, that people go through such 66.3 2007 Krasevac * Clericalis~n and the Religious Life a searching and often painful purification before being allowed to have authority in our lives. The gentleman priest is usually not bossy, and may be quite humble in his relations with others. The Gendeman Priest or Priest of Leisure As the ambitious priest loves the possession or the exercise of power, the "gendeman priest" loves the good life in at least some of its forms. Fine restaurants, the opera or symphony, the art museum, a rich social life among those who are well educated and well-off are often characteristic of this style of being a priest, as is a penchant for travel to culturally rich destina-tions. It is also impor-tant, when the gentleman priest is at home, that the table be a good one and there be enough employ-ees (or other religious) in the house to serve his needs in a style that might recall servants of old. Ministry is important to such a priest, but usually is carefully controlled so as not to interfere with the gentleman priest's other pursuits. He does not consider the real possibility of "breaking a sweat" in the Lord's vineyard, and the ministry of service is often seen as a distraction from more important callings. Comfort is important to the gentleman priest, and a decent cash flow is obviously required; poverty is not the queen of his vows. As in all forms of clericalism, a strong sense of entitlement is operative in the gentleman priest, an entidement not so much for authority as for a lifestyle that befits his education and tastes and, needless to say, his understanding of the priesthood. ¯ On the plus side, the gentleman priest is usually not very bossy, and may be quite humble in his relations with Review for Religious others.6 He is often a pleasant fellow, gracious and gener-ous to others in spontaneous and endearing ways. He is generally a person whom it is hard to dislike, and can be a delight in community (when he's there). The gende-man priest is, after all, a gendeman, one who is sensitive to other people, thoughtful, polite, well mannered. He treats others well and brings to religious life and ministry the values of culture and respect for others. And because, in the familial atmosphere of religious life just as in the domestic family, the familiar and familial may conceal or seem to excuse insensitivity to others in word and action, the formality that the gentleman priest brings--an infu-sion of genuine courtesy to and respect for others--can be a boon for both our communities and our ministries. The Gossiping Priest We religious talk a lot to each other, and a lot about each other, and about those whom we serve. This is a normal and essential part of the familial in our communal life. We should be interested in what our brothers are doing, in their ups and downs, in the joys and sorrows and accomplishments and failures of their lives. It is only when we have such knowledge that we can respond fra-ternally to them in their needs, and sometimes get some comic relief as we laugh at their foibles. Conversation and the knowledge of each other that flows from it are essential to the common good of our congregation and to the good of the individuals within it. The "gossiping priest" also loves to converse, but for very different reasons, sometimes having to do with "inno-cent curiosity," sometimes from less charitable motives (knowledge can hurt others as well as help them). Even in the case of curiosity, however, much damage can be done both to other individuals and to the common life by such conversation. Information may come to light and 66.3 2007 Kra~e~ac ¯ Clericalism and the Religiou~ Life damage or destroy a brother's good name by the very fact that it does come to light. Violations of privacy can often result from the need to know what everyone else is doing, and why; great amounts of energy can be expended in creating and maintaining elaborate networks of commu-nication, energy that could better be focused elsewhere; such networks can easily lead to an exclusivity in the com-munity that direcdy damages the common life; and the effectiveness of superiors who are trying to deal charitably and jusdy with complex personal problems of the breth-ren can be compromised by such a "need to know." In other words, "innocent curiosity" may have anything but innocent effects, and the gossiping priest (whose life is largely based on knowing and conversing about the lives of others) is too often not honest with himself concerning the reasons for and the effects of his gossip. In addition, the possibility that the confidentiality of privileged con-versations-- say, that of chapters--may be broken in the course of gossiping has a chilling effect on the freedom of a community to deal effectively with its legitimate but sensitive concerns. The entidement here is for knowledge of other peo-ple's doings, usually for the very sake of that knowledge. A priest, after all, is almost by definition one to whom secrets are communicated, one who is supposed to be privy to matters of conscience. The devastation that can be caused by the gossiping priest is in direct relation to those weighty privileges which are abused by the false entitlements of clericalism.7 More positively, in most cases the gossiping priest's life is centered on the concerns of his community, whether at the local or regional level, as on his family--and this is a good thing. In a time when the pressures are great which lead to detachment from the community and to "private life," the gossiping priest witnesses in his own Review for Relig~o~,~ way to the value and importance of our life together in the community, for the community is the major concern of his interests and his conversation. Once purged of its negative effects, the conversations of the formerly gos-siping priest can become genuinely community building and enhancing. The, Romantic Priest This manifestation of clericalism in the religious priest normally applies to those whose experience of the church is postconciliar, because the "romantic priest" is largely driven by nostalgia for the past--for what he did not per-sonally experience, but has read about and longs for. The romantic priest is not usually concerned with matters of doctrine or even authority (and thus is not necessarily a legalist); rather, he is more concerned with matters of dress, style of liturgy, the particular traditions and prac-tices of his congregation, the dignity of his priesthood, aesthetic matters, and certain (traditional and sometimes dying) devotions. He is often genuinely pious, one who is committed to his vows and the way of life that they entail. But the romantic priest loves to play a role which is largely defined by these kinds of things, and above all by the past. The complexities of contemporary life in the church and world hold little interest for him, as do the complexities of most ministries; his world and his inter-ests lie elsewhere. The entidement here is for the power to define the priesthood idiosyncratically, that is, in relation to his per-sonal interests rather than in relation to the following of Christ and the needs and interests of those whom he serves in ministry along with the needs of his brothers and sisters in religious life. The romantic priest is preoccupied with the dignity of his priesthood and tends to impose his romantic view of the church, the priesthood, and the fol- 66.3 2007 I&asevac ¯ Clericalism and the Religious Life lowing of Christ on others, both those whom he serves in ministry and those with whom he lives in community. The romantic priest brings to his community and to the church important values of Catholic culture that many people today miss; he brings a strong sense of tradition and its place in Catholic life. Grounded in something other than the contemporary and the rapidly changing, the romantic priest's rootedness in the genuine values of the past assures that he will not be enamored of every new fad in liturgy or ministry; he sees the present from the perspective of the past, because of his lively sense of the past, and can be an important witness to contemporary Catholic culture, if he does it with balance and without the entidements of clericalism. The Narrowly Focused or Dependent Priest On the face of it, the "narrowly focused priest" is a good priest indeed (much like the romantic priest). He is often quite dedicated, disciplined, prayerful, obedient, and in some (perhaps narrow) senses responsible and chari-table. He does everything that is explicidy asked of him in community and in ministry: he does what he is told, follows the rules, and is thus seen as a responsible priest, even a fine one. One of the roles he does not normally fill is to take the initiative either in ministry or community life. Others-- usually religious superiors (whom he scrupulously obeys) and statutes of his congregation--set the parameters for what is required of him. To deal with the inevitable and complex problems that arise in ministry and in the life of his community is not his calling; this is what supe-riors are for. The problems of community life in par-ticular-- at both the local and provincial levels--are their concern, not his. Further, the narrowly focused priest is often afraid to acknowledge the existence of problems Review for Religious within the ministry or community, because he might then feel the obligation to face them. Hence he may be naive about people in general and naive in choosing those who will bear the authority in his community. Much like the romantic priest, the dependent priest shies away from the complexities of real life, but rather chooses to live in a different world defined by his explicidy spelled-out obli-gations; he is content to bury his head in the sand and let others face the difficult challenges of the ministry and the common life. In both cases there is a kind of escapism to ideal worlds. Although incorporating many of the genuine values of the priesthood and religious life, the dependent priest is a burden on his community precisely insofar as he "leaves it to others," thereby escaping his own responsibility for the common good. Superiors of dependent priests appear "burned out" because they are left to deal with the dif-ficult and often intractable problems of their communities without concrete help or support. Their congregations can be severely damaged by the na'fvet6 that elects incom-petent or otherwise unworthy superiors because depen-dent priests prefer to remain uncritical regarding the real needs of their community and the character and ability of those whom they elect. Entitlement here is for the privilege to define one's obligations as priests and religious in the narrowest of terms, terms which, require litde personal responsibility, litde stress, litde compromise of one's ideals of an essen-tially trouble-free and straightforward ministry and com-munity life. The narrowly focused priest is very close to being a fine priest. He is not normally ambitious, nor a gossip, nor embittered, nor a legalist; rather, he is often humble and obedient, and loath to meddle in the affairs, of others. He generally prizes the "regular life," and lives that life 66.3 2007 Kras~ac ¯ Clericalis~n and the Religious L~fe in a disciplined and balanced way. He is, in a word, com-fortable in his role as a religious priest, largely identifying with it. And he serves both his community and those in his ministry in predictable and necessary ways. Perhaps the key to understanding and overcoming the dependent priest's perceived entidements is in recognizing that "not being of the world" as a priest and religious does not exempt one from having to deal with many of the problems of the world that nevertheless appear in com-munity life and in ministry. These problems cannot be ignored, nor quarantined to be dealt with by others. They are often very real and must be engaged as they arise, even if such engagement cause ruptures in the carefully worked-out and much respected routines of the narrowly focused priest. The Enforcer Priest One of the roles of the ministerial priesthood is to render judgment on people and their acts in the light of the gospel and the church's teaching and with a view to their repentance and salvation. The "enforcer priest" takes this role seriously and is constantly concerned that the misdeeds of others (both the laity and his own brethren) be corrected. Since he rarely if ever takes time off from this mission, his presence is generally felt to be a burden by those around him; he is rarely challenged, however, as his very presence is usually intimidating. Although judgment is a necessary aspect of the priesdy role, the enforcer priest seems preoccupied with it (and often with the punishment that should follow) to the extent that he forgets its end: human salvation. This can happen when judgment is isolated from or allowed to dominate mercy, when the enforcer priest lacks self-knowledge of his own need for mercy, when the ambiguity of all human actions in the external forum is forgotten, when prudence Review for Religious fails to suggest that a particular intervention may be inef-fective or even counterproductive regarding the person's overall good, or when he assumes an almost infallible ability to interpret the law (moral, canonical, liturgical) and its application to a particular situation,s The enforcer priest may be preoccupied with error and judgmentEboth in what people think (orthodoxy) and what they do (orthopraxis) for - a number of rea-sons. He may be threatened by the actions and beliefs of others to the extent that they are perceived to call into question his ° own (perhaps frag-ile) values, beliefs, and lifestyle. He may be emotion-ally unable to live with diversity, ambiguity, and the lack of psychological certitude. He may have fears of ecclesial anarchy if laws are not swiftly and effectively enforced. The entidement here is the ~resumption that a priest may speak for Christ and the church without mercy, with-out prudence, without the nuance that comes from expe-rience and compassion, that he may apply the letter of the law without regard to its purpose, and that (in some cases, at least) he may judge others without first judging himself with rigorous honesty. On a more positive note, fraternal correction is a gos-pel imperative and a crucial need in most religious com-munities (and, of course, in the church at large). We are Alfhough judgment is a necessary a~pect of t~ prestly role, the enforcer priest seems preoccupied with it to the extent that he forgets its end: human salvation. 66.3 2007 260 responsible for one another's well-being in all its aspects. But fraternal correction--if undertaken prudendy, effec-tively, and in a true gospel spirit--is also a particularly difficult task. One who corrects one's brother or sister risks anger, alienation, and the loss of friends. It is much easier to ignore the true needs of one another and to just get along with them peacefully. Real courage is necessary to practice fraternal correction, which sometimes compels us to confront those who need confronting for their good and for the common good. The enforcer priest can show us the way to this responsibility, provided that the cleri-cal entitlements associated with this style of priesthood are held in check. The enforcer priest must learn not to undertake fraternal correction according to his own likes or dislikes, desires, insecurities, preferences, or ideologies, but rather for the sake of the other's true and necessary good, or that of the community, and without intent to embarrass or punish. The Embittered Priest The "embittered priest" has been deeply hurt by cer-tain experiences in ministry or in the life of his religious community (usually the latter) and has tenderly nourished that hurt for a number of years. Perhaps he was slighted by notable others (whether in authority or.not), perhaps never given the responsibility in ministry or community that he thought he deserved, perhaps denied a second term as superior, or perhaps he has just never received the respect from others that he thinks he deserves. As a result, the embittered priest has largely disen-gaged himself from both ministry and community life. He "deserved better" in his many years of priesthood and has now "opted out" of the life that has treated him so poorly. Often older, and sometimes suffering from illness (including alcoholism), the embittered priest is unhappy Review for Religious himself and cannot but make those around him--who are often the ones taking care of him--unhappy also. He sees his clerical entidement as coming from the very fact that he is a priest and religious, rather than from his achievements, character, or talents. He feels this enti-dement so deeply that without it he must withdraw from his basic responsibilities as a priest and religious (although he still feels entided to the rights that his canonical status entails). The life and experiences of the embittered priest point to the reality that we do hurt each other in religious life and that the wounds we inflict can be lasting. We all have different tolerances for being hurt, and we need to be sen-sitive to the harm we can do to others less resilient than ourselves. In addition, the continuing presence of these men in our lives calls us to care for them in their distress even when they neither want nor appreciate our help, but need it. They call us to be Christ in ways that we might not otherwise be. Ideals and Compromises Our following of Christ and our loving ministry in imitation of him in the particular way characterizes the ministerial priesthood is a high ideal, one difficult to achieve and always at risk of compromise. The com-promises we sometimes make may simply stem from our manifold weaknesses and lack of love and then be rec-ognized, repented of, and borne in stride as we take up pursuit of the ideal once again. But our compromises may also stem from our conceptions of the priesthood itself and hence may be more difficult to recognize and repent of. These compromises stem from the ideologies of cleri-calism, 9 ideologies that affect the exercise of the priest-hood of Christ in particularly invidious ways. It is only by recognizing the clerical compromises in the ways we live 66.3 2007 Krasevac * Clericalism and the Religious Life 262] our priesthood in our religious communities that we can begin to address them)° Notes i It is interesting that a sense of entidement is a classic character-istic of all forms of narcissism. 2 How do these entidements arise from clericalism? Perhaps par-tially from an exaggeration and ideologizing of the sacramental differ-ence that holds between the ministerial priesthood and the priesthood of all the baptized, perhaps because priests who have "given up all" for the sake of the kingdom come to believe that they "deserve" some-thing by way of entidement in return, perhaps because the structure of secular society with its manifold entidements has unduly influenced the life of the church 3 Dynamics such as the manifold forms of governance in religious institutes; those institutes' often rich cultural heritages and particular liturgical, doctrinal, and aesthetic traditions; the familial contexts of most forms of religious life, with many religious living closely with each other for many years; and the educational and cultural possibilities generally available to religious priests, and also their mobility. 4 The roots of the word "authority" have to do with "causing to grow." This has obvious meaning for parents' authority over their chil-dren, but it also adds depth to the idea of authority as service; supe-riors and bishops bear a special responsibility to deepen the faith and the personal development of those over whom they have been given authority. 5 The desire for power that stems from clerical entidement may take a different form in religious priests who do not seek authority for themselves, but for those whom they will be able to control. Generally intelligent and shrewd, they care little for the prestige or perks of office, but seek control of those in office, perhaps because they believe that such power is a right of their intelligence and farsightedness. Often this ambi-tion stems from a fear that their brethren will not "get it right" through the normal democratic processes of deliberation and election, or from a fear that if their enemies were elected they would be vulnerable to their attacks. This ambition can also stem from their unwillingness to accept public accountability for their positions and actions. The dynamics of entitlement, however, are essentially the same in all cases of ambition-- entitlement for power over others rather than in service of others. 6 A variation of the priest of leisure is the "hobbyist priest," who loves, not so much the good life of culture, but other aspects of the good life, such as a fascination with computers or a preoccupation with Revie~v for Religious domestic concerns. Hours, days, even weeks can be spent on equiva-lents, with little attention given to traditional responsibilities of the priesthood. Here the hobby provides not a well-deserved respite from priesdy work, but a substitute for it. The entidement issues are essen-tially the same: the priesthood "deserves" (if not requires) a life of leisure, the time and resources to pursue their interests largely unfet-tered by the ministry. 7 One further negative dynamic often present in the lives of gos-siping priests is that they become friends with others who have similar habits of gossiping. Their friendship is not about something good that can lead to their growth as human beings and as religious and priests, but about something that can compromise their friendship at its core and impede their growth in goodness. 8 Unlike the romantic priest, the enforcer priest usually is a "legal-ist," that is, one who is so preoccupied with the letter of the law that he forgets the end to which the law is ordered (ultimately the realization of the good of human salvation) or sees it to be of secondary importance. A certain .myopia prevents the enforcer priest from understanding the relation of means to end, the relative nature of the former to the latter. The enforcer priest and the romantic priest usually believe that oth-ers should live according to the values they think important (values of right belief and conduct / romantic, values). One difference is that the romantic priest is usually not inclined to impose his values on others and is content to live according to them himself and to persuade others of their merit in more subde ways. 9 Ideologies are "views that serve to rationalize the vested interests of some group." "The ideology both justifies what is done by the group whose vested interest is served and interprets social reality in such a way that the justification is made plausible." Peter Berger, An Invitation to Sodology: A Humanistic Perspective (New York: Penguin Books, 1963), pp. 54 and 130. ~0 As mentioned above, a sense of entidement is a classic character-istic of all forms of narcissism (both individual and group), and hence one may expect that narcissistic attitudes will be part and parcel of the phenomenon of clericalism. This is displayed most clearly in those cases where the priesthood is understood as being primarily about the self rather than about Christ and service to others. In these cases the priesthood is seen to be primarily about me and hence is "defined" in terms of my needs and my desires, rather than the needs and desires of those I have been called to serve. In both the gendeman priest and the gossiping priest, there is often a fascination with things "churchy," that is, with the accidentals or outward trappings of church life; this may be true of the romantic 263 66.3 2007 Krusevac * Clericalism and the Religious Life and enforcer priests as well. This concern with "churchiness" may be an enduring aspect of clericalism and is probably bound up with the narcissism that is characteristic of clericalism--focus on the self in its more superficial aspects. Questions for Reflection]Discussion Whether I am a priest or someone exercising ministry in the service of the church, do I find myself described in one or other of the categories proposed by Krasevac? How would I want to add to Or negate some of the qualities? What other major catergories would I want to identify? Do people see a kind of "clericalism" in religious life as lived by both women and men? What forms does this "clericalism" take in religious life? How might we live differently if we religious were to be free of such a designation? 264 Review for Religious PATRICK SEAN MOFFETT Conversations on Eucharist T~Eucharist in its entirety, inclusiveness, and uni-sality is an integral engagement of the worshiping Body of Christ. It constitutes the singular act, par excel-lence, of the believing community. The lay people, priests, and religious of the Roman Catholic Church understand the Eucharist to be the source and summit of the spiritual life (LG §11, Catechism §1324). The Eucharist, and for many centuries the daily Eucharist, has provided aspirants to holiness with sustenance, moral instruction, corporate bonding, and strengthening of belief. No Mass today? On days when there is no Eucharistic celebration accessible, daily communicants might welcome, alone or with others, spiritual engagements that include some of these elements: word and act, thanks and praise, offer-ing and communion. Should such days multiply, daily communicants may need to revisit the grounding of our spirituality. Patrick Scan Moffett CFC wrote for us in 1984 and 2001. He may be addressed at Christian Brothers; 4949 N.E. 2nd Avenue; Miami, Florida 33137. 66.3 2007 ~loffett ¯ on~er~atiom on Eucharist 266, As we extrapolate current trends in priesdy vocations and the growth of the people of God, we perhaps see a time when Eucharist as we know it today will not be readily accessible to much of the church. Some feel called upon to anticipate such an eventuality by reducing the frequency of their own participation in Eucharist. For some formation directors, that decision is extended to those whom they prepare for future service to the church. Others prefer to engage fully in what is currendy avail-able, trustful that either the trends will change or that they will be blessed with the strength to confront such challenges if and when they occur. Age will be a factor in deciding for oneself. Older men and women might see no need to alter a way of life that can safely carry them through their remaining years. Deciding for others calls for serious discernment. No matter which strategy is chosen, we will do well to review the role of daily Eucharist in the spiritualities that have helped to shape .our lives and those of our dis-tant and more recent ancestors. Theologians, canonists, spiritual writers, and spiritual directors have much to contribute to a reexamination of theories and praxes of Eucharistic spiritualities. Conversations on Eucharist, such as those referred to in what follows, could be useful starting points. For purposes of this article and from the perspective of a psychologist, I will offer some preliminary samplings of the interface of Eucharist and the ongoing processes of belonging and self-definition. Varying perspectives will suggest what might need to be considered before defining new paths to holiness. The Eucharist in the lives of daily communicants Recently I have been inviting some daily communi-cants to engage in extended conversation about the place Review for Religious of Eucharist in their lives. The questions I ask and my understanding of responses they evoke are surely con-ditioned by my experience as a religious and as a psy-chologist. What I recognize as themes of agency, identity, relationships, belonging, and development have deeper and richer meaning both for those who are speaking of their insights and for their listeners, who bring their own experiential and intellectual perspectives. The selection of participants is by no means a random sample. Preliminary conversation has indicated that they have been daily commu-nicants for a significant '~ part of their lives and that they are comfortable in sharing their thoughts and feelings. Those who welcome the invitation need little prompting. They readily attest to the ~ centrality of the Eucharist with respect to most of the other engagements of their day. They describe the Mass as bringing together the sacred and the mundane, the joys and the struggles, the fears and the hopes, the hurts and the healing that shape their day. As the initial response concludes, I ask if any moments in the ritual have particular significance for them or bring together what they have just described. Some respond immediately, others pause and then report resistance to singling out any part of the entire experience. One religious, responding to my probing on such aspects of special focus during the Mass, identified the moment of Communion and what he saw as the "all too brief time after Communion." He went on to note that his ordained friends, on the other hand, tend to place the i ask ifany moments " in the ritual have particular significance for them. 267 66.3 2007 Moffett ¯ Conversations on Eucharist 268 emphasis on the Consecration or the Invocation of the Spirit over the gifts. I ask myself and.others: Who are the protagonists in this sacred event? We begin in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. How is the Trinity experienced? Who is With me at Eucharist? Who else is present :around the altar, in the pews, dispersed about the earth, or in the heavens? Who comes from afar, or from long ago? Who of my sisters and brothers, family, friends, neighbors, coworkers, acquaintances are especially present to me during the Mass? Whom do I make present with my thoughts, memories, and prayers? I understand that part of my role is to gather guests from the highways and the alleys. All are welcome. The Master seeks a full house for the sharing of the banquet. Levels of belonging Belonging, as an action and as a consequence of group engagement, contributes to the identification of both the individual and the group. Each member has a creative role in the formation of both the "I" and the "we." Eucharist ritualizes and celebrates who we are as a people and who we are becoming. Observers of human development chart stages of growth. Infancy, childhood, pubescence, adolescence, and young adulthood are seen as steps toward full maturity. So too in groups there are successive levels of belong-ing.~ Members move from acceptance to participation, from participation to engagement, and eventually from engagement to proprietorship. Individuals understand themselves increasingly in terms of the group. Eucharist provides a forum for affirming membership. I have been accepted into the people of God. I am a Catholic. I do what Catholics do. I believe. My engagement in the lives Review for Religious of my brothers and sisters in the church expresses the essence of who I am and who we are. We are the Body of Christ. While there might be a sense in which we "make belief," Pope Benedict XVI has urged caution: Here I think it is very important to stress one essential point: no one believes purely on his own. We always believe in and with the church. The creed is always a shared act: it means letting ourselves be incorpo-rated into a communion of progress, life, words, and thought. ¯. We must let ourselves fall, so to speak, into the communion of faith, of the church. Believing is in itself a Catholic act. It is participation in this great certainty, which is present in the church as a living subject. ¯ . . Day after day we must deepen our communion " with the holy church and thus with the Word of God . Only when we are united in the church do we belong to the church, do we become members of the church, do we live by the word of God which is the life-giving force of the church. And those who live by the word of God can only live it because it is alive and vital in the living church) Identity Those schooled in scholastic philosophy might recall the struggles around the principle of individuation. Prime matter, the amorphous "substance" common to all being, affords no differentiation as such. Form (anima) serves to distinguish between levels of being, but is common to all members of the same stratum of being. To arrive at differentiation, attention is directed to the baecceitas, the "thisness" of a particular being. Form is imposed on the universal matter in the here and now (see Th.Aq., De Veritate 2.6-7). The action yields an individual being. What might also be attributed to the seemingly infinite possibilities of constellations of DNA is explained as deriv- 269 66.3 2007 Moffett * Conversations on Eucharist ing its uniqueness from the moment of incarnation. Word is made flesh and dwells among us. At some moment in time and in a particular place I am, we are. A series of events earns me a name, a role, and a his-tory. They bond°me with clusters of other human beings, groups among whom I have an ever more distinct place as both individual and member. I belong to a family, a group of friends, of associates, a community, a country. I am an alumnus, a professional, a supporter of causes, a member of a party, or perhaps one of the group that shuns such memberships. These group-forming events may be circumstantial or intentional. I do not choose my family. My first friends tend to be those in Participation in daily Eucharist confirms an aspect self-definition and en ga ged,me in a process of ego ,extension. the immediate vicin-ity or at my school. Gradually I become more selective. I go away to a university. I choose a profession, opening new possi-bilities of bonding. I marry. I am ordained. I join a religious congregation. Each choice helps to define me and also the others I include when using the first per-son plural. Participation in daily Eucharist confirms an aspect of self-definition and engages me in a process of ego extension. 270 Prayer in the first person plural The Eucharistic ritual may be viewed as an exercise in gathering. Whoever is present joins with the priest and others "in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit." Each successive "Amen" serves to expand and to confirm this bonding among those who Review for Religious seek mercy, offer praise, listen to the word, and proclaim "Thanks be to God." Together we express our belief in all that defines us individually and collectively as people of God. We ask God to hear our prayers. The celebrant invites us to ask that our sacrifice be acceptable. We lift up our hearts to the Lord. From the end of the offertory through the Eucharistic Prayer, the first person singular occurs only in the words of Jesus: This in my body, my blood. Do this in memory of me. We unite in the Memorial Acclamation and begin to acclaim our larger sense of who stands with us in the pres-ence of our God: our ancestors, saints, angels, all who have gone before us, our sisters and brothers, the church throughout the world. Together in the unity of the Holy Spirit we proclaim the great Amen. The Our Father makes repeated use of the first person plural. The first person singular returns with the Communion. I am not worthy, but I will be healed so that I may join with the others in sharing the bread. The ritual concludes in the communal blessing, again in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit and with a com-munal Amen. In union with the holy sacrifice of the Mass throughout the world In the conversations on Eucharist, the daily partici-pants often express the belief that what is happening in their local church or chapel is part of a larger, continu-ous gathering of the church throughout the world and throughout the ages. They refer to the Last Supper as the initiation of an event that is as much a present reality as it is the deposit of the faith of their ancestors. Several reli-gious have noted that, while religious formation helped shape their understanding of Eucharist, they brought the practice from their families. 271 66.3 2007 Moffe~ ¯ Conversations on Eucharis~ They go on to indicate that the time of the Mass itself is not necessarily when they have the most powerful expe-rience of the presence of the Lord. They speak of cen-tering prayer, lectio divina, or moments in ministry or service as the source of a joy that they will later bring to the Eucharist. Visits to the Blessed Sacrament The preservation of the Eucharistic species for pur-poses of cult is minutely regulated by tradition and decree. Today's priesthood, the ordained and the nonordained participation of the laity, has reset the bounds of the sacred. Devotion takes new forms. The liturgy empha-sizes the immolation of the sacrificial Victim and the communal consumption of the divine banquet. Our times are marked by fewer priests, fewer celebrations, multifunctional worship spaces, limited visiting hours--scarcity issues and vagrancy concerns. Ecumenical unease marks practices that others might not distinguish from idolatry or superstition. And yet churches in retirement areas are reporting that the chapels of the Blessed Sacrament are centers of vibrant and steady worship. Youth leaders attest that silent time before the Blessed Sacrament has a unique attraction for many of today's adolescents. They willingly participate in quiet beholding. Behold announces some of the more powerful moments of the Scriptures. Adam and Eve have such a moment, and it evokes fear. Jacob experiences the Lord poised over Youth leaders attest thdt silent time before the Blessed Sacrament,has a= unique attraction for many of today's adolescentd. Review for Religious him and marvels: "Indeed, the Lord is in this place, and I did not know" (Gn 28:17). Mary is shaken by the words of the annunciation and responds, inviting reflection on what she is experiencing. "Behold the handmaid of the Lord." Generations have waited to behold the Wonder Counselor, the Prince of~ Peace. John the Baptist identifies Jesus: "Behold the Lamb of God" (Jn 1:35). And years later a peasant is asked to explain a daily ritual. Coming home from work in the fields, he visits a chapel, slips into a pew, and simply sits for half an hour before the tabernacle. To what end? "I look at Him and He looks at me." Perception The beholder and the beheld enter into a moment of profound access to each other. Each delights in the other, the Creator and the created, the Redeemer and the redeemed, the Spirit and the confirmed. Past and future converge in an experience of the divine Presence, Self-absorption? Me and Jesus? The communicants claim that the Eucharist makes it much more. There under the sign of bread are the lives of those, united in banquet and sacrifice, who do all in memory of the Lord: the priest called from among the people to articulate their hurts and hopes, one with. them in uniting their daily lives to that of Jesus, believers and those helped in their unbelief, those commemorated, the living and the dead, a communion of the faithful. This is the Body of Christ, the people of God, the church. Here I am at once at home and in the world, with those I know and love, with those I do not know but seek to love. We forgive and are forgiven. Agency Conversations afford an insight into the perceived "agency" of the speaker.3 In describing my actions I 66.3 2007 Moffett * Conversations on Eucharist acknowledge aspects of my engagement that come from within. I choose to go, I seek out, I attend, I listen, I pray. I work past dis.tractions, past reservations about the celebrant or my fellow congregants. Yes, I am an agent in the process. Those who accompany me are also agents. We chose to act together. The Lord is, in a similar sense, the principal agent of the Eucharist. Paul teaches that the Lord whose kingdom is among us and whose will is being done on earth and in heaven is transforming us as individuals and as a group. Scriptures reveal a God who is "forming a people particularly his own" (Tt 2:14). We profess that as we engage in Eucharist the Lord is doing great things among us. In the last analysis my agency is simply one of consent-ing to what the Lord is doing to me, to us. Here a psychol-ogist invites others to carry forward the conversation. Choosing to stay the course--the joy of the journey This brief summary of what I am hearing from a very small set of the faithful brings us back to the conclusion of the first recorded conversation on Eucharist. John had Jesus' listeners requesting "Give us always this bread." Jesus indicates that they do not fully understand what they are asking. '¢I'his is the bread that has come down from heaven; not as your fathers ate the manna, and died. He who eats this bread shall live forever" (Jn 6:59). Jesus challenges his listeners. Some depart. Others join Peter, a bit perplexed, but willing to stay the course: "To whom shall we go? You have the words of everlasting life.We have come to believe and to know that you are the Christ, the Son of God" (Jn 6:69-70). Peter does not always get it right. Paul calls him to task on the issue of who is invited to the feast (Ga 2:12). A postresurrection conversation on the way to Emmaus moves two early disciples. They seek out the others and Review for Religious share with burning hearts what happened along the way and in the breaking of the bread (Lk 24:33). That conver-sation continues and needs to continue in our day. Notes 1 P.S. Moffett, "Promoting Agency among Children and Adolescents at the Margins" (Invited Address, American Psychological Association), Journal of Pastoral Counseling 30 (1995). 2 Discourse/speech of Pope Benedict XVI with the Clergy of Rome, 2 March 2006. See the Vatican web page. 3 Dan P. McAdams, The Stories We Live By (New York: William Morrow and Company, 1993); David Bakan, The Duality of Human Existence: Isolation and Communion in Western Man (Boston: Beacon Press, 1996). Prayer Lord, do you now therefore, speaking through my lips, pro-nounce over this earthly travail your twofold efficacious word: the word without which all that our wisdom and our experi-ence have built up must totter and crumble~the word through which all our most far-reaching speculations and our encounter with the universe are come together into a unity. Over every living thing which is to spring up, to grow, to flower, to ripen during this day say again the words: This is my Body. And over every death-force which waits in readiness to corrode, to wither, to cut down, speak again your commanding words which express the supreme mystery of faith: this is my Blood. Teilhard de Chardin, The Mass on the World from Hym .of the Universe, p. 23. 66.3 2007 the feminine DAMIAN C. ILODIGWE Mary and the Magnificat 276 The church teaches us that the Blessed Virgin Mary was assumed into heaven body and soul at the end of her earthly life, to share in the glory of her Son. This is what the solemnity of the Assumption celebrates. It is the victory of Christ over sin and death. Mary was the first beneficiary of this victory, and that is why God preserved her body from decay, not allowing it to undergo corruption. But the victory of Christ is also our victory, as the church affirms in the mystery of faith when we proclaim "Dying you destroyed our death, rising you restored our life, Lord Jesus, come in glory." Like several other feasts of Mary, the Assumption underlines the place of Mary in Christian life. This derives from her privileged choice as the Mother of the Savior. It is not as if she was chosen for this important assignment Damian C. Ilodigwe'is a priest and a lecturer in philoso-phy at Ss. Peter and Paul Major Seminary; P.M.B. 5171, Secretariat P.O; Ibadan, Nigeria. dammychuks@yahoo. tom Review for Religio~s because of anything she was. The choice was gratuitous, depending wholly on God's grace. It is only fitting and proper that mankind should also honor her after she was so honored by God. From the text of Mary's song of thanksgiving in response to the greeting and commendation of her cousin Elizabeth, it is evident that Mary was not oblivious of the significance of her ~privileged choice. She was aware that it was the work of the Lord. And the reality of her choice filled her with immense gratitude and appreciation, to which she gave expression in the celebrated words .of the Magnificat: My soul proclaims the greamess of the Lord, and my spirit exults in God my savior, because he has looked upon his lowly handmaid. Yes, from this day forward all generations will call me blessed, for the Almighty has done great things for me. Holy is his name, and his mercy is from age to age for those who fear him. (Lk 1:46-50) Mary, Privilege and Responsibility We share in the sentiments of appreciation that Mary expresses here. We all enjoy one privilege or another, and, when we come to appreciate the value of what we have, it is often with gratitude. Consider, for instance, the joy of motherhood or fatherhoo& It is a unique privilege to be the father of a child just as it is a unique privilege to be the mother of a child. None of us ever chooses our parents. They are one of those things that are given to us. In the case of his only-begotten Son, God. made the choice of his mother and Mary was the woman. But the joy of mother-hood is not in any way diminished. On the contrary, it is elevated to a greater height because Mary's child is not just any child, but the savior of the world, the Son of God. It is one thing to say that .the joy of motherhood is unique. It is another thing to be a good mother. One is a 277 66.3 2007 llodig~e ¯ Nlary and the ~lagn~at privilege and the other is a duty. For every privilege there is a corresponding responsibility. Being a good mother is the responsibility that goes with the privilege of being a mother. In the case of Mary, she not only enjoyed the privilege but was also a good mother. She took seriously the duties that follow from being a mother. And this we can confirm from the various episodes in the life of Jesus right from the moment of his conception to the time he was buried.1 What we notice is an inseparable union between mother and Son, with the mother doing all she could .to care for her Son. She shared in the sufferings of her Son and remained with him when the going became tough and everyone deserted him. Little wonder she is called the mother of sorrows, given that she was fully united with her son in his passion. The two hearts were one in suffering. It is only logical, then, that when Jesus achieved his glory he should make sure that his mother shared in his glory. This is the logic that underpins the mystery of the Assumption of Mary into heaven. We can regard it as an explicit reward for Mary's fidehty,z True, by the privileged choice of God, she became the mother of Jesus, being preserved from original sin. But it was .by her own cooperation with the grace of God that she preserved her virginity and remained sinless all through her life, so that in her we witness the triumph of life over death, a result that awaits all who walk in the footsteps of Christ. 278 The Example of Mary and Our Contemporary Situation We might ask what all this means for us. The truth is that we too ~are privileged to be followers of Jesus. It is a privilege to be a Christian, and by virtue of our being Christians we carry Jesus in,our hearts. Jesus dwelt in the womb of Mary for nine months and through this medium Review for Religio~ was introduced to the world. Mary's womb was the origi-nal .locus of the mystery of the incarnation. The Word took flesh first in the womb of Mary before he was born in Bethlehem. By the power of divine grace, this same action takes place when we are baptized into the death and resurrection of Jesus. The Word made flesh makes our heart his abode and dwells with us and among us, and through us he is intro-duced to the world. So it is always a unique moment when we step forward to receive Jesus . in Holy Communion. This moment is fundamental to the definition of our Christian identity in the sense that it invites us to become what we receive. While it is a privilege to bear Jesus in our hearts, we need to ask ourselves how well we fulfill the duties deriv-ing from this privilege. We need to ask how we are living as Christians. I suppose this is where the life of Mary speaks to us. We should be concerned to know whether we are giving our best to our Christian commitment. There is no question that the challenges of being a Christian are enormous. They call for a great deal of sacrifice, and it is unlikely that we shall measure up unless we are supported by the grace of God. To love God with all our hearts and serve him with a single-minded devotion is not something easy. It will often require us to do what we would rather not do. And sometimes it may mean having to put off our plan and agenda in order to allow God to have his place in our life. It means preferring God to self and to any other human being. This is what it means to love God in all things and above all things. ~ It is a privilege to be ,. . ~ a Christian, and by virtue of our being Christians ¯ we car~Jesus in,our hearts. 279 66.3 2007 Ilodigwe ¯ Mary and the Magnificat Given her status as protodisciple of Jksus, we can confidently turn to her to teach us how to be disciples of her Son. 280] The demand is radical. But we need not be afraid because in Mary we have an example of one who has passed through this challenge. We see, for example, how she strug-gled through the challenge of accepting God's plan and putting aside her original plan of marrying Joseph. It is not as easy as it sounds. We must consider that it was really a painful choice, as it will be in deciding for God in difficult circumstances in our life. With Mary, however, her faith was the secret of her success. We cannot forget easily her celebrated fiat, which should be our own attitude to all that life brings to us, especially when it seems to run contrary to our desires. "Let it be done to me according to your word" (Lk 1:38) was her response to the angel's invitation to be the mother of Jesus, despite all the confusion and trouble that the thought of this caused her. It is always best to prefer the will. of God to our own will or the will of any other mortal. We may not see the point immediately, but it always turns out that our peace truly lies in the will of God. There are probably no saints who did not come to realize this basic point at some time in their life. It is the same point that St. Augustine expresses at the summit of his search for God when he says, "Our hearts are made for you, O God, and we remain resdess until we rest in you." This has remained the deepest spiritual truth that all disciples of Jesus must learn if they are to attain the life of blessedness, which is the ultimate reward of discipleship. Mary was the first to teach this lesson and live it out by the manner of her life. Review for Religious Thus she was not only the Mother of Jesus, but also the first disciple of Jesus. She was the first to follow him as he deserves to be followed. And in following him she did not spare herself. She gave everything she could give, so that the bond between mother and Son was no mere physical bond, nor was it a mere biological bond. True, they were bonded physically and biologically. Yet the most crucial bond proved to be the spiritual bond, since mother and Son were one in heart and mind. Because of this deep spiritual bond, the mother was prepared to be spent for her Son and, true to Simeon's prophecy, her heart was pierced with sorrow,6 so that like the man of sorrows she became the mother of sorrows, identifying most fully with her Son's predicament (see Lk 2:21-3 5). On one occasion Jesus had been teaching, and there came a message that his brothers and sisters were waiting to see him. In his characteristic manner, he turned to the crowd and responded by asking, "Who are my brothers and sisters?" He then went on to answer that "my broth-ers and sisters are those who do the will of my Father." We may say the question is startling. But the answer conveys his meaning, that the spiritual bond is more important than the biological bond, so that it is not our physical affiliation with Jesus that matters as much as our spiritual affiliation with him. Of course there is no opposition between the two. Yet to ignore the claim of the latter at the expense of the former easily empties discipleship of its true meaning. We must say that Jesus' emphasis on the spiritual serves to preclude this possibility. No one other than Mary under-stood the demand of both affiliations. Indeed in her we find an excellent integration of both demands. Beyond the fact that she was the mother of Jesus, she sought above all to realize the will of God in her life even at the cost of great pain and sacrifice. 66.3 2007 Ilodig'we ¯ ~/~ary and the ~Vlaffnificat Given her status as protodisciple of Jesus, we can confidendy turn to her to teach us how to be disciples of her Son. We can turn to her to teach us how to love and serve her Son with all our heart. As she was always there for Jesus, she is always there for us, since by the gift of her Son she has also became our mother, and what a good mother she is! She continues her work still on behalf of us her children from her heavenly throne, where she reigns with her Son in the glory of the resurrection. She continues to labor to ensure the fulfillment of her Son's wish that all people be saved. Thus, on a day such as the solemnity of the Assumption, we must ask her for the grace to grow in our knowledge, love, and service of Jesus. We must ask her to obtain for us the grace to be faithful to our Christian commitment, so that at the end of our lives here on earth we shall .have the privilege of entering into the glory of the Lord. Notes ' See Federico Suarez, Joseph of Nazareth (Abingdon, England: Scepter, 1982), chapters 6-7. 2 See Mark Miravalle, Introduction to Mary: The Heart of Marian Devotion and Doctrine (Santa Barbara: Queenship Publishing Company, 1993), chapter 2. Review for Religious LEO HERETO Margaret, the Woman of Becchi Mthargaret Bosco was the mother of John Bosco, e diocesan priest who began the Salesian soci-ety for the education of poor and abandoned youth in Turin, a congregation that soon spread through Italy and around the world. Today it is in 192 countries. Hugh of St. Victor declared in the 12th century that the aim of all human activity is the recovery° of Eden and that Eden's very nature is to be unchangeable. In the garden two persons, a man and a woman, failed. The story is stark as narrated in Genesis 3:1-20. In John Bosco's life a woman played a most important part. It is a hundred and fifty years since this woman, Margaret Occhiena, passed away, but her profound influence remains in the Salesians of St. John Bosco. When we think of vocations to the priesthood and to consecrated life, we must never underestimate the feminine dimension. Vocations seem to spring from the womb of women devoted to God and his divine will. When her father in his patriarchal way decided on marriage for his daughter, Leo Hereto SDB writes from Don Bosco Technical Centre; Postal Box 124; Apia, Samoa. 66.3 2007. Hereto * Margaret, the Woman of Becchi 284 Margaret Occhiena married the widower Francis Bosco, a young farmer twenty-seven years old. He had lost his first wife after six years of marriage and was left with a three-year- old son, Anthony. At her marriage in June 1812, Margaret was twenty-three. This marriage saw the birth of Joseph in 1813 and John on 16 August 1815. Francis was to die in May 1817 after suffering what appears to be some type of pneumonia. Before dying he asked Margaret to "take special care of our baby John, who is just twenty-one months old." At twenty-nine Margaret was left with three children, her stepson and her own two boys, and her mother-in-law, the children's "Nonna." Her catechetical method was not what she learned from books, for she was unable to read, but she empha-sized living in the presence of God. The children were taught the importance of duty, openness to others, and never to say no to anyone in need, whether that person was a beggar or a fugitive from the police. Margaret would spend the night with dying people, holding their hands and consoling them. Her children were three dif-ferent characters. Anthony had lost his mother at three and his father at nine, and these deaths had left a scar on his character that made him hostile and nasty in the family. He was "like a bear with a sore head." When his grandmother ("Nonna") died in 1826, he often became violent. He had a deep dislike for his stepbrother John. When John set a book down on the table, the young man would toss it with a great deal of bravado into the wood stove, stamp his foot, and say, "We are workers, and only workers are accepted in this house." Margaret treated this little "Pharaoh" with great calm and concern, never beating him for his misbehavior and always treating him with great kindness as her husband's son. Anthony would sometimes hurl cutting and hurtful words at Margaret, often using the Italian word for stepmother (matrigna), a Review for Religious word with harsh and insulting overtones. Margaret never made an issue of this, but treated him gently but firmly. The Time of Great Decision. In 1835, as John reflected on his vocation, he felt the appeal of joining the Franciscans who had a center among the hills of Piedmont. Poor peasant that he was, he knew that his mother would find it hard to provide the fees for the seminary at Turin. So,he met the prior of the Franciscans, who made him sit for an examination. He passed it very well and was ready to begin his pos-tulancy that year. When John's parish priest heard about this desire of his to join the Franciscans, he rushed to Mama Margaret and told her in shock of her son's proposal to become a Franciscan. Faithful parishioner, the good lady listened to him and reflected on what he said. Later that day, when John came home, his mother with womanly wisdom said, "I have nothing to say to you regarding your vocation, except that you should do what God inspires you to do! Do not be concerned on my behalf. You owe me nothing. Never forget that I was born in poor circum-stances and have lived in poverty all my life. I am happy to die poor. I tell you this seriously. If you ever become wealthy, I shall never cross your doorstep!" John went to the seminary. After his first Mass at Becchi, Margaret had something to confide to her son. "John, you area priest. You will be , "!Neve~rforget that I was born in poor circumstances and ~ ' havk lived in poverty all my life. , i am happy to die poor." 285 66.3 2007 Hereto ¯ ~largaret, the Woman of Becchi 286] celebrating the Eucharist, and so you will be closer to Christ. Remember, John, that to begin to celebrate Mass is also to begin to suffer. You will not realize this at once, but you will gradually become more and more aware of it." In 1844 John finally finished his postsacerdotal stud-ies and began his apostolate for the benefit of boys and young men. He found that without some type of hostel his work for boys would be in vain, He managed to buy a place, the "Pinardi shed," in the "red light" area of Turin. Close to this shed was the villa Gioiosa, notorious for the characters that fitted into this industry. Don Bosco gradu-ally built up a kind of club consisting of boys who were orphans or were seeking work in the big city or had been driven there from the countryside that had been ravaged by drought in recent years. Spending time with these young men, he would have heard people cry, "What are you doing with these young-sters?" His mother was the answer to this problem. She was fifty-three years old, matron or rather queen in her home at Becchi, surrounded by her children and her chil-dren's children. But, when asked by her son to be a part-ner in his apostolate, she packed a small basket with her few clothes, her folded wedding dress and not much more, and went with him to face the chaIlenges of an apostolate among the rejected of society. With this wise mother of his, he would discuss things. And she did the cooking for two hundred, mending their torn clothes, looking after the sick. She became so involved in this apostolate that to.some it seemed rashness or misdirected faith. When a poor beggar came to the door looking for food, Margaret looked at her wedding ring and gave it to him to help feed his large family. Love is limidess. Her wedding dress sym-bolically became a vestment for the Lord. As the rough and at times uncouth young men streamed into the shed at night, she would offer them a thought for the day. Review for Religious In Salesian tradition this became what is called a "good night" (buonanorte) In November 1856 the little lady of Becchi was fast fading away. With deep faith she received her son's bless-ing and the anointing of sick. On 25 November, at sixty-three years of age, this woman of grace gave her soul back to God. Like Monica she asked John not to fret over her going but to remember her at Mass. In her little room were a few old clothes, patched and repatched. Pope John Paul II said of her, "She was a woman of God." Sonnet for the Fall The story of our ancient discontent, Or myth, or fable, or a rueful guess, Catching the heart's sense of slow, sad descent, From fresh to stale, from much to less and less; The arriving, never quite where we went, Words, never quite sufficient to express Exactly what we mean, or thought we meant, The failure even of seeming success. "You'll learn," we tell our children and they will, As we have learned, whose parents learned it, too - The lesson only living can instill, Teaching us Augustine's prayer anew: Lord, thou hast made us for thyself and we Fall, ever, till we fall to rest in thee. Ian T. White 66.3 2007 DAVID COGHLAN Discernment in Common as Cooperative Inquiry apostolic direction 288 The special issue of The Way Supplement in 1996 reflected on the experience of communal discernment. After what it described as a tidal wave of enthusiasm and unrealistic expecta-tions in the 1970s, it noted that "the process of group discernment now holds real possibilities for effective understanding and action."' It is in this context that I explore discernment in com-mon and introduce cooperative inquiry, a form of action ~esearch which is compatible with the kind of faith activity that discernment is and accords with how discernment in common may be conducted. The word research is associated in most peo-ple's minds with theories. Research is conducted in the world of ideas and their formulation. This model has shaped the social sciences since the 17th century. Research, on this model, examines David Coghlan SJ is a lecturer in organizafon development at Trinity College, Dublin. His address is 129 Morehampton Road; Dublin 4, Ireland. dcoghlan@tcd.ie Review for Religious an "objective" truth which exists outside of the world of the researcher and is disconnected from the action of everyday life. Research techniques are thus concerned with objective impartiality, with forms of knowledge that can be defended propositionally and so are considered to be valid and to apply universally. Social sci-ence no longer works with this model alone. When postmodern-ism began to emerge some thirty years ago, people became more aware of language, and in particular of how our experience is influ-enced as much by the language we use as by any objective reality. Others have come to regard human inquiry as seeking knowledge not simply for its own sake, but also for the enhancement of good practice in everyday life. Now, it is argued, is a time for science in action rather than just about action.2 Action research is such a science in action. Action research is research that aims at both taking action and c~'eating knowledge or ,theory about that action. What Is Action Research? As the name suggests, action research is research that aims at both taking action and creating knowledge or theory about that action. The outcomes are an action and some new knowledge, not knowledge only. In effect, action research is about creating forms of inquiry that people can use in the conduct of their lives and involves changing what we take as knowledge. It reflects a con-cern for an "action turn" to replace the linguistic turn of postmodernism.3 It has origins and roots in diverse fields: the social psychology experiments of Kurt Lewin, 66.3 2007 Coghlan ¯ Discernment in Common the pragmatic philosophy of John Dewey, the emergent field of organization development, the liberationist work of Paulo Freire, Catholic action, liberation theology, and feminist thought.4 Ignatian spirituality and action research have a lot in common, and action research contributes to spirituality research. There are some striking overlaps between motifs of Ignatian spirituality--a spirituality in which "action" is a central motif---and the features of this new pattern of thinking in the social sciences called "action research.''5 There are striking convergences between the idea of action research and Ignatian teaching about the interplay of prayer and action. The technical concepts developed by action research theory help sharpen the reflection encour-aged by Ignatian spirituality. Though the methods of the social sciences are sometimes reductive, either ignoring the religious or else translating it into other allegedly more accurate terms, the epistemology and processes of action research are quite appropriate to the knowledge born of grace and religious faith. In this vein, it can be proposed that there is an Ignatian approach to social science. It has been apparent to me for many years that Ignatius was very modern in his approach to reflexive inquiry. This article is a development of an earlier one and continues the endeavor to bring Ignatian spirituality and action research together.6 The purpose is twofold. First, I want to introduce a stream within action research prac-tice, balled cooperative inquiry, and show how it can have close links to discernment in common in the Ignatian tra-dition. Second, I wish to advance further the articulation of an Ignatian approach to social science research so that the practice of discernment in common may be given a voice as research. The contribution, therefore, is to those who undertake research in spirituality and may use action research in researching discernment in common. Review for Religiou~ One contribution that action research theory, can make to Ignatian spirituality comes from the idea that an integrative approach to research incorporates three differ-ent practices, which are called "first person," "second per-son," and "third person.''7 Ignatian first-person practice is concerned with how people find God in their own expe-rience. Ignatian sec- ~ ond-person practice focuses on people's relationships in their shared inquiry about their life together as Christians. Ignatian ~, third-person prac-tice moves beyond the direcdy personal ~ and seeks to enrich the life of the church and the world. In this article, I introduce cooperative inquiry as a form of second-person practice to link with Ignatian second-person practice of discernment in common. The knowledge born of faith and prayer (experien-tial knowing) is expressed in presentational form through our images of God, through the language of our prayers, through religious art and music. This experiential and presentational knowing is articulated in propositional form in the statements of our faith, in the creed, in how our beliefs are formulated and understood through theol-ogy. All this is expressed in practical knowing as we apply ourselves to trying to live the Christian faith. Action research, too, works with ways of knowing that go beyond the propositional form that we think of as research.8 With this brief summary of links between Ignatian spirituality and action research, I now introduce cooperative inquiry as a specific stream of expression within action research. Action, rese arch works with ways :of knowing that go beyond the propositional form , that we think Of'as research. 66.3 2007 Cogblan * Discernment in Common 292. Cooperative Inquiry9 John Heron and Peter Reason define cooperative inquiry "as involving two or more people researching a topic through their own experience of it in order to (1) understand their world to make sense of their life and develop new and creative ways of looking at things and (2) learn how to act to change things they might want to change and find out how to do things better.1° As John Heron puts it, "it is a vision of persons in reciprocal relation using the full range of their sensibilities to inquire together into any aspect of the human condi-tion with which the transparent mid-body can engage.''1~ In cooperative inquiry each person is a co-subject in the experience phases by participating in the activities being researched and a co-researcher in the reflection phases by participating in generating ideas, designing and managing the project, and drawing conclusions. Cooperative inquiry goes something like this. 1. A group agree on what they want to explore. The group may be formed specifically for this purpose. The group talk about their interests and concerns, agree on the focus of the inquiry, and develop together a set of questions or proposals the members wish to explore. As an example, Reason mentions a group of obese and post-obese women who met to explore their experience, how they were stereotyped in society, and how it was difficult for them to obtain appropriate attention from doctors. 2. The group bring actions from their everyday situ-ations into the inquiry after initiating some actions and observing and recording the outcomes of their own and each other's behavior. 3. The group members as co-researchers become fully immersed in their experience. They may go deeper into the experience, or they may be led away from the original Review for Religious ideas and proposals into new fields, unpredicted action, and creative insights. 4. After an agreed period engaged in phases two and three, the co-researchers reassemble to consider their original questions in the light of their experience. Cooperative inquiry works on iteration, or cycling through the four steps. Repetitions--perhaps between six and ten cycles on an inquiry topic--can help toward better understanding of an issue, an improved grasp of the whole issue and its parts. An important element of cooperative inquiry is that it works with the different ways of knowing we discussed earlier. In cooperative inquiry, inquiry is deeper and richer if the different ways of knowing work together, "if our knowing is grounded in our experience, expressed through our stories and images, understood through ideas which make sense to us, and expressed in worthwhile action in our lives."12 Cooperative inquiry is a way of doing research that is radically different from the traditional way. It involves people examining their own experiences and action in collaboration with others who share similar interests and concerns. The heart of the learning process is threefold.13 First, learning takes place through iterative cycles of action and reflection. Second, this learning takes place in a cooperative inquiry group of peers who provide mutual support and challenge. Third, through the process partic-ipants develop a quality of self-reflective inquiry whereby they learn to attend to their own experience and learn how to learn from experience. Heron emphasizes that there is no one account of cooperative inquiry and that his comprehensive presentation should not be construed as the account.~4 This is an important point, for it opens up the possibility of exploring discernment in common as cooperative inquiry. 293 66.3 2007 Coghlan * Discernment in Common Having presented a brief outline of action and research and a general introduction to cooperative inquiry, I now explore how cooperative inquiry and the Ignatian tradi-tion of discernment in common may be linked. To do this They held, as principle thatGod l .,. is kind and gift-giving~ndI ~ / that they should earnestly ;~ seek what God wantedoff ~hern~ .,,. ~ I focus on one partic-ular discernment in common, namely, that of the early Jesuits who met in 1539 to discern their future as a group.~s It is not my intention to focus on discernment in common as such, nor to explore its nuances and processes, nor to do a textual analysis or engage in discussions of the Deliberation's place in the development of discernment in common.~6 In this article my aim is first to introduce the Deliberation in summary form and second to see if the elements of cooperative inquiry can be found in the Deliberation. 2,94 The Deliberation of 1539 On 13 August 1534 at Monmartre in Paris, Ignatius and his six companions pronounced vows of poverty and chastity and a vow to go to Jerusalem, and then they dis-persed. In January 1537 the seven, joined by three others, met in Venice. They spent the next two years in Venice and Rome, preaching and working with the poor. This group of priests was held together by the love of Christ, dedication to apostolic work, the authority of the pope, and the leadership of Ignatius. The time came when dis-persal was imminent, for the pope planned to send them in response to requests from bishops all over Europe. The question was whether this would be the end of the group Review for Religious as a~ group or whether it would seek to establish itself more formally as a group. In 1539 the group deliberated on what it wanted to do. There was a diversity of nationalities in the group, French, Spanish, Savoyard, and Portuguese, and there was diversity of feeling and opinion. Accordingly, the first issue they dealt with was process. They held as principle that God is kind and gift-giving and that they should ear-nestly seek what God wanted of them. There were prepa-ration steps and procedure steps. During the day each man would meditate and reflect on the questions and in the evening share his thoughts with the group and in par-ticular share his reasons and judgments. The intention was that "all with one mind would embrace the truer way of thinking, tested and commended by the more powerful reasons and by majority vote" (187). The first question they confronted was whether to bond together so that geography would not separate them or to cut their ties and disperse. "In the end we estab-lished the affirmative side of the question, that., we ought not split apart what God had gathered and united" (192). The reasons were their shared history and the signs they saw of what God was doing in them. The second question was whether, along with their vows of chastity and poverty, it would "be advantageous [to] pronounce a third vow, namely, of obedience to some-one from among us" (194). This opened up the ques-tion of authority in the group and, in effect, whether the group would form a religious order or not. "Then we had persisted in prayer and thought for many days without hitting on any satisfactory resolution of our uncertainty. We. started to cast about for better ways of working out such a resolution" (195). Given the impasse they were in, would it be better for the group to go away to a hermitage and be secluded, 66.3 2007 Cogblan ¯ Discernment in Common 296 Each was to ready himself through prayer, Masses, and meditation to reach the or should they stay in the city and continue their apos-tolic ministry, or should they delegate a few to reach a conclusion on behalf of the group? They opted to stay in the city and continue their apostolic ministry and give half of every day to their deliberation. Each was to ready himself through prayer, Masses, and meditation to reach the right dispo-sitions. Second, none of the companions was to communicate with any-one else about the issue. right dispositions. Third, each was to think ' ~, ' of himself as a stranger ~ to the group and so to be more objective and not caught up in the emotions of a group member. These preparations were to enable each member to make an individual contribution to the whole process, presenting his personal view. When the group convened, it used another proce-dure, also aimed at shifting the impasse. "Each one was to declare all the disadvantages which could be brought against obedience [by vow, to one of our group], all the reasons which presented themselves, and which anyone of us had found in his own private reflections, meditation, and prayer. What he had gathered, each in his turn was to make known" (201). "On the next day we argued for the opposite side of the question, each one putting before the group all the advantages and good consequences of such obedience which he had drawn from prayer and medita-tion. Each took his own turn to present his reflections" (203). Eventually they reached their outcome. "During many days, from this side and that, we worked over a mass of Review for Religious data related to the resolution of our problem, we exam-ined and weighed the more forceful and important rea-sons and took time as usual for prayer, meditation, and reflection. By the Lord's help, we did at last, not [just] with a majority judgment but without a single dissenting voice, come to this conclusion: Obedience to one of us is highly advantageous and highly necessary in order to ful-fill more effectively and exacdy our primary desire of ful-filling God's will in all details of life, in order to preserve the Society more assuredly, and finally in order to pro-vide properly for all the detailed matters of spiritual and temporal business which arise" (205). The Deliberation took almost three months. As Jules Toner comments, the success of the more fully developed method for discern-ment was not only the reformulation of the process from the first question in order to deal with the more complex second question: it was also their establishing a method that they used on many other questions over a longer period of time (208). The Deliberation as Cooperative Inquiry Now I discuss how the Deliberation may be viewed in terms of cooperative inquiry, drawing on the four-point process that I oudined above. The first point is clear. A group had an issue that its members needed to explore together; the group met to seek where God was leading it, whether toward dispersal or formal ties between its mem-bers. While it had an informal leader of great influence in the person of Ignatius, the group met as peers. Second, it did not convene just to make a management decision but to engage in a reflective process that included each

Issue 45.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1986. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REview ~oR RELIGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1986 by R~v~w ~oR RELiGiOUS. 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 (postage). Airmail (Book Rate) $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVtEW FOIt RELIGIOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor May/June, 1986 Volume 46 Number 3 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW I~UGtOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J,S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW Folt RELIGIOUS; 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. Our Lady of Wisdom Donald Macdonald, S.M.M. ,, Father Macdonald's "The Price of Poverty" appeared in this year's January/February issue. Last May/June saw another Marian article by Father Macdonald entitled "Mary: Our Encouragement in Christ." Father's address rdmains: St. Joseph's: Welling-ton Road: Todmorden: Lancashire OLI4 5HP: England. ~ recall being kindl~, received in a convent, but the longer I stayed there the more uncomfortable I felt, because for apparently aesthetic and liturgical reasons ~there was no room in the chapel for a statue or picttire of Our Lady. It was frankly embarrassing to pass Our Lady presiding over a hymn-board ~n the corridor outside while i was free to go into the chapel without a blush. It°made no sense. One should not exaggerate the place of Our .Lady but neither should she be underrated. So, in a generally compli-mentary book-review, the reviewer remarked that while the author rightly spol~e of devotion to Our "Lady as inseparably part of Christian life he "rather overstresses the idea of Marian m'~sticism." One wonders how he knows that, since mysticism touches levels of e~perience much of which must be left unsaid. Can anyone throw a tight ring around personal expe-rience particularly at those depths? On the day his engagement was announced, G. K. Chesterton wrote the woman he was to marry that "I think it is no exaggeration to say that I never s~iw you in my life without thinking that I underrated you the time before." t This is a superb compliment for anyone to receive, especially from a mindsas rich as Chesterton's. Clearly he saw depths in the girl 321 ~122 / Review for ReligiouMs, ~Iiy-June, 1986 unseen by her butcher or dressmaker. Lo~,e, presumably,' gave him the necessary insight: Such God-gi~en insight is needed to understand anything of Our Lady in the providen.~e of God, particularly if we accept that "insight is an attempt to think in the present a. .breakthrough requiring much intellectual d~smanthng a, nd dislocationa .c.c.ompanied by a sense of surprise., genuine perception . He who thinks that we can see the same object twice has never seen. Paradoxically, insight is knowledge at first sight." 2 This is surely borne out by experience. Father Peyramale, the parish priest of Lourdes, knew more ,of the faith than Bernadette Soub~rous, just ¯ as the superiors of the novice Catherine Labour+ had a wider experience of religiouslife than did she. NO ldoubt, too, biblical scholars in the time of Th~r'ese Martin knew more al6out Scripture than she did, but who today among the contemporaries of!those three girls could claim to approach their insights into the ways of God? Can anyone quantify their subsequent influence for God and for g~od? One spoke patois, another not 9t all publicly .u.ntil shortly before she died; while the third wrote of what she knew in three note-books onl~ because she was as.ked to. Eacti of these women's lives was illumined by a vision of Our Lady who left her distinctive mark on all three, not least in their wholly sane, understated, selfless lives. What Bernadettelsaid of herself could be said of all of them including Our Lady "When 3~ou have finished with the brush you put it behind the door"--except th~at God has other plans. Their influence widens. The risk for thee c,ontempor~ry religious might be in leaving "the brush behind the door." What has been called "chronological snobbery" can obtain here to3. The insights of the latter part of the twentieth century are assumed to be superior to thos~ of peasant, country or middle-class ,y, oung women in nineteenth~entury France. Following the sam~ ~qogic, Our Lady can be dismissed as possil inevitably~limited by her lack today, and by her geographical God is present in each life. It is tliese women are to be conside ~ly a Galilean peasant girl whose insight was of formal ~ducation,~as this is understood locafion~ That assumption should be tested. this that makes the difference and by which red. Of each of the four women it could be said: "She was a woman uprig, ht, outright." "Her will was bent at God'](G. M. Hopkins, "Margaret Clither'ow" an unfinished poeo). The strengthl,.vulnerability and powerful pulse httracting them can be felt in that last monosyllabic line. There is no need of any Cultural baggage in order to sl~are what they see. Neither the water-tables feeding the wells of Nazareth n~or the politics of nineteenth-century France m.atter. Anyone in the company of these~ women may.be drawn by what Our-l_ady of Wisdom / 323 they see, glimpsing in each cage~perhaps "the Christ-ed :beauty of her mind" (G. M. Hopkins op. cir.). They travel light. The will of God is the point: "Let it be done to me according to your word" (Lk 1:38). Perhaps we cannow consider Our Lady as a reflection of the presence of God. The Gift of Wisdom It has always been difficult to speak of the presence of God not least because a finite mind is trying to express an awareness of transcendence. One biblical, tradition which attempted this was the ~Wisdom literature (includihg Job, Proverbs, Qoheleth, Ben Sira, Wisdom and some Psalms), Beginning in cultures outside Israel as basically advice to the young man Who would make his way in the world (a "Young, Upward Mobile Man's Guide to the Galaxy" perhaps), when taken into Israel it was inevitably recast through belief in the underlying presence of God as the basis of reality. So "the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom" (Ws 9:10), that is putting God first as against the practical atheism .of the person for whom '~'there is no fear of God before his eyes" (Ps 36). From this standpoint, God's presence was seen in creation, the history of Israel and in individual lives under the guise of wisdom, latterly personified'in a. female figure. God's presence as expressed in Wisdomwas to be seen everywhere:' "She herself walks about looking for those who are worthy of.her . in every thought of theirs coming to meet the~m" (Ws,6:16-17). "Wisdom is quicker to move than any motion; she is so pure, shepervades and.perrfieates_all things. She is a breath of the power of'God . untarnished mirror of God's power, image of his goodness . Herself unchanging, she makes all things new" (Ws 7:24-27). "l resolved to have her as my bride, I fell in love with her beauty" (Ws 8:2). "My counselor in prosperity, my comfort in care and sorrow. I love those who love me; those who seek me,eagerly shall find me" (Ws~9:17). Slowly to reflect on those lines is to glimpse the intimacy and reality of God's presence in a sacramental world. Such insight is a personal possession. They know of whatthey speak. So in the creation of the universe by God: "I was by his side, a master ~craftsman delighting him day by day, ever at play in his presence, at play everywhere in his world, delighting to be with the sons of men" (Ws 8:30-31). Such a universe, then, is no alien, monolithic force hostile to mankind but a place in which God is present, delighting to be with his creation. Experiencing life in this way, God's presence is seen as delightful, as life now obviously has meaning since it is underwritten by God. "I came forth from the mouth of the Most .High and I covered the earth like mist . Then the creator of all things instructed me . He said, 'Pitch your tent in Jacob'. I have breathed out a scent like choice myrrh. I am like a 324 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 vine putting out graceful shoots. ApprOach me you who desire me, and take your fill of my fruits, for memories of me are sweeter than honey, inheriting me is sweeter than the honeycomb. They who eat me will hunger for more., they who drink me will thirst for more. Whoever listens to me will never have to blush, whoever acts as I dictate will never sin" (Si 24:38, 13, :17, 19-30). Again, such reflection on life in the light of faith findsGod's presence everywhere awesome and mysterious, yet beautifully attractive. As the figure of Wisdom is now personified it might be dismissed as yet another imperfect image, a crutch to lean on when looking for God's presence in the mystifying world. But surely there is no need nor is it intended to imagine anything at all. This is no television commercial with a female figure ,cavorting across the screen advertising some product. The insight given by Wisdom and remember, following Abraham Heschel, that insight is to see for the first time--is so much richer and nuanced and is to be understood on another plane: Insight not eyesight, and imagination is wanted now, to see beyond and above the imagery. The gift of Wisdom is meant to give just this taste for and insight into the presence of God in every aspect of reality. God is there in every moment eager to make his presence known. Having "pitched" his tent among us, his presence is such that once tasted one can only "hunger for more." Obviously:for the Christian this. speaks of Christ in every line, particu. larly as Paul and John present him, but, traditionally this was seen too in the person of Our Lady of Wisdom. Such Wisdom writings were to be found in the liturgy of her feasts. The personified figure of Wisdom was seen in'her, and as expressed in the liturgy, the faithful were invited to delight in her as a. supreme expression of God's presence among us. Cen-turies of meditation on the Wisdom writings instinctively suggested Our Lady. It was a delightful, pleasant, accessible world combining the world of transcendence with the encouraging familiarity of a faithful mother. God's presence as reflected in her indicated that potentially there were no heights we could not scale even though our insight was at best imperfect. It was a lovely atmosphere she brought with her as she was seen among us as one of us, rejoicing in God her Savior (Lk 1:47), and we with her. Few would deny that that is less so now. The atmosphere has changed. In Catholic liturgical, literary and devotional life the lovely, wondering, ever reiidy to be surprised insight of an earlier time seems to have been replaced by the prim, puritan regimentation of an old-fashioned school-room. Instead of an ever-deepening insight needing all the resources of Wisdom literature to try and express what was felt and experienced, today one has the impression that not afew of our pastors, teachers and cate- Our Lady of Wisdom / 325 chists who occupy the commanding heights and lower slopes of everyday teaching in the Church, have seen Mary once--and seen her "plain." They might have come ashore from The Mayflower yesterday. The approach to Our Lady today reeks of the catechical-center and schoolroom. It is all reminiscent of a certain type of teacher so accurately sketched by Charles Dickens, who asked a girl who had spent her young life with horses and knew and loved them, to describe one. She was incapable of coming up with the only answer he would accept: "Quadruped. Gramini-vorous. Forty teeth~ namely twenty-four grinders, four eyeteeth, and twelve incisive. Sheds coat in the spring . Hoofs hard, but requiring to be shod with iron. Age known by marks' in mouth. Thus (and much more).''~ How many of those who flock each year to the Kentucky Derby would recog-nize that either? Though the teacher is perhaps overdrawn, it does not mean that the point is overplayed. The issue was real and perhaps still is. To present Our Lady chiefly in terms of Model Christian or Model of Believers is not wrong but deadens a relationship. To speak of anyone in such categories isolates them from the rest' of us. Models automatically distance themselves. They are to be looked up to, rarely made part of oneself. To speak principally of Our Lady in such terms is to put her on a pedestal in a most damaging way: apart from, static, of yesterday rather than today; whereas traditionally within the Catholic community she was of God and of us, truly a present inspiration as we delighted in her com-pany. So Mary, Model of the Church, while true, is of the classroom not of life. It is, too, not unfair to remark that when she is spoken of as "Woman of~Faith" or "Model of Believers," this carries strong overtones of the contemporary defeatism wherein faith, before it can~be reckoned as authentic, is laced with a strong solution of doubt. None really sees, so the best that can be done is to pool. insecurities, as even the best of us are in the dark. Our Lady, by association, is correspondingly diminished. Yet faith in biblical terms was never the vague hope that Someone might be there to make sense of life in an at times frighteningly puzzling world. Rather was it the bedrock assurance that God is there and we are real to him, even though often unfelt and unknown by us. Trust, therefore, is at the heart of the biblical reality, and on this the Jewish and Christian communities were built. The best of both communities enfleshed it. Our Lady too embodied the prophetic vocation, helping us in the task .of realizing that ~we live in the universe of His [God's] knowing, in the glory of attachment" (Jr 1:5).~ So the community enjoyed her company, welcomed her and delighted to hear anyone speak well of her. She could appeal to anyone, whether from the cachot of Bernadette, the countryside ~126 / ReviewJ'or Religious, May-June, 1986 of Catherine, :or the middle-class household of Th6r~se. Today the colors are subdued, a pale reflection of what they once were. The use of the 'W, isdom writings to express what was felt about her has given way to such warmth as there is to a winter's sunlight. Now she is almost exclusively spoken of as "Mary," and one cannot help feeling that much has been lost in the contemporary would-be organized Church that was freely available to everyone in an earlier, possibly more untidy home. The wonder of insight is missing. ~.It is, of course, explained that one owes it to non,Catholics to be careful in the way we speak of/to her. This is true. Yet it should be recognized that there are real differences between .us both in faith and atmosphere, stemming from faith as a way of life not an academic code. The ethos of the evangelical Protestant, for example, is not easily expressed in terms of Greek Orthodoxy's devotional life. Both are valid traditions, but they are undeniably different. Yet if one has the good fortune of belonging to The Ecumenical Society of.the Blessed Virgin Mary it may prove a revelation to see and hear how easily Christians of every denomi-nation speak of her. I, too, very much value the invitation given me some years ago to belong to the Methodist Preachers' Fellowship, and find within its integrity, respect and support that it is possible to speak of Our Lady. (The Methodist Neville Ward, it will be remembered, wrote in Five for Sorrow, Ten for Joy, a very fine book on the rosary). It is "megaphor~e diplomacy"---publicly shouting at one another--tliat is to be feared, not in expressing how one genuinely bdieves and lives within a context of respect and understanding: I wasat a Protestant school until I was twelve and have,the highest regard .for what I was taught there, The local minister would drive us in his car to Mass, unasked, on really_wet wintry Sundays--and he later became moderator of the Church of Scot-land. So perhaps I may claim first-hand experience of the Protestant ethos and .am far from unsympathetic to it. It is a strange paradox.that while the eighth chapter of Lumen Gentium and the later Marialis Cultus, to say nothing of the present Holy Father, express a recognizably Catholic feeling and continuity, so unlike much of current teaching and. devotional life, somehow there has been a break from what once was, and the person of Our Lady has been almost lost in the concept. To see Our Lady then reflected in the feminine figure of Wisdom is to see in her a transparent reflection of the transcendence and immanence of God's presence, She is n6where and she is everywhere. This may puzzle some who consider in so broadening her significance that it may somehow Our Lady of Wisdom / 327 lessen her value in the'community. This might be so if she is seen as just. one specific piece on the chessboard, somehow .to be welded into aft'overall strategy. But the reality of theoChurch, of course, is of a community created and indwelt by the Spirit of the living God. It is a living organism in which we each relate to'one another in 12hrist through grace-enlightened knowl-edge and love. Our Lady; supremely orie with the will of God, is therefore an influential channel of ttiat life: "And when Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, the babe leaped .in her womb; and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy. Spirit" (Ek 1:41). Seen in this light; therefore, coming from the heart of the Christian community, she is never an inquisitive aunt, obtrusive neighbor nor cling-ing friend. Nor is she a static figure with. her own particular niche in the wall, to be referred to now and agai'n. As th6 lovely feminine figure of Wisdom Owing more to insight than eyesight or imagination is lost in the wonder of what she suggests, so too Our Lady. Sowhen G. M. Hopkins in a well-known poem comparing her to the air we breathe, spoke to her as, World-mothering air. a'ir wild . Fold home. fast hold th3~i'child. he is talking of life and limitless freedor~ not limitation. He is not-advocat-ing a stranglehold distancing one from God, caught up in Mary's apron strings in'a state of permanent adolescence. Rather does she, as ~lid Wis-dom, mediate the presence of God that perhaps has to be experienced to be understood. The traditional prayer, "Virgo respice, Mater, adspice, audi nos, O Maria. " perhaps.puts it at its simplest. One scarcely needs a translation to feel that prayer convincingly suggesting on her part atten-tion, anticipation, concern, fellow feeling, x+hich, while relishing her company, is at the same time an act of faiih in the underlying reality that "He who is mighty has done great things for me. and holy is his name"(Lk 1:49). Gift of The Spirit Perhaps the °point may~be further underlined by considering God's presence as expressed in the experience of Spirit,, A thesaurus could find many words to 'express it life, breath, wind describing an intangible reaiity. As an expression-of God's presence it indicates that it can be experienced everywhere but never held. The Spirit of God brought this universe into being, and the: same creative Spirit was responsible for the existence of the community of Israel, inspiring within it particular individ-uals to, perceive the presence and guidance of God~ So "God would speak with Moses face to face, as a man ~peaks to his 'friend" (Ex 33:11). As a result of this intimacy he was instrumental in helping to build the commun- ~121~ / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 ity. Similarly, on receiving the prophetic spirit, "Elijah arose like a fire his word flaming like a torch" (Si.48:1), empowering.,him almost single-handed to hold ca'fly Israel together against colossal! odds. This influence of the Spirit of God suggests that a man is taken out of himself, often despite himself. As Amos, probably the first of the writing prophets, put it: "The lion roars: who can help feeling afraid? The Lord God, speaks: who can refuse to prophesy?" (Am 3:8). Enlightened by the Spirit of God .withinthe community of Israel, such people were given such insightSnto their own age that in the name of God they felt compelled to speak and act. The eyesight of most of their contemporaries was blind to what their God-given insight enabled them to see in a world illumined by~ God's spirit. As the Spirit of God dwelt within the heart-,of Israel so no less emphati-cally says St.~-Paul. was the Spirit present within the Christian cgmmunity. As God was present in the Holy of Holies of the Jerusalem temple so Paul tried to open the eyes of the Corinthians to the° wonder of his presence among .them: "Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's Spirit dwells in you. God's temple is holy, and that temple you are" (1 Co 3:16-17). God present among s~uch people individually and collectively points the wonder of it all in view of who they we?e: "not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful., of noble birth" (I Co 1:26). Nondescript, marginal people for ~he most part--as was said of the unfortunate boxer. '~not even a household name in his own house'--God evidently "chose what is foolish . . . weak . . . low and despised" (I Co 27-28). Enlightened by the wisdom and Spirit of God as a member of that community, Paul does not apologize for its surface crudi-ties as his insight enables him to see within to the Spirit's indwelling presence. It is a creation of God, and like all his gifts "can only be under-stood by means of the Spirit" (1 Co 2:14). Reflecting long and often as he must have done on what was being created in and around himself, Paul comes to see that "the Spirit reaches the depths of everything, even the depths of God . . . Now. " . fie have received the Spirit that comes from God, to teach us to understand the gifts that he has given us" (1 Co 2:10-12). This is a phenomenal insight as Paul wrestles with the almost inexplicable to aid the Corinthians' self-under-standing. Their lives are radically touched and empowered by God, mo~Jing from the depths of his Spirit to theirs. Meaning little to others in view of their lack of status, they mean everything to God. And it was this same Spirit. which enabled Paul never to be quite beaten by the constant bread and butter inconsistencies, and. to see the reality beneath._ It is all, Paul reflects,, ~eminiscent of the wisdom of God which so often seems to stand logic on its head. lts linchpin is the crucified and risen Christ "whom God Our Lady of Wisdom / 329 made our wisdom" (1 Co 1:30) in the face of a disbelieving world. Such insight~does not come from the schoolroom or marketplace. It is a gift from God enabling "those'who are called. [to see] Christ thepbwer of God and the~visdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than men" (I Co 1:24-25). This same pattern is true of Our Lady. She is to be understood ihen from within the community. An ostensibly nondescript person from unre-markable Nazareth if one considers the circumstances of her calling, yet the inner reality can only be gauged insofar as one is given to see what is meant when "The Holy Spirit will come upon 'you, and the power of the Most Highs:will 6ve'rshadow you" (Lk 1:35-36). The creative spirit of God which once brought this universe'into existence, now through her willing co6per-ation (see Lk'l:38), brings to birth a new creation in her Son. Such is the effect of the Spirit's power and presence that "the child to b~ born will be called holy, the Son of God" (Lk 1:35). This is the defining feature of her life: Mother and Son are inseparably linked. One with him at birth, home and crucifixion, she is found within the early Christian community pray-ing. So it has been for centuries as she ~is seen among us preeminently lovable and faithful, empowered by wisdom and the Spirit. The Christian community has responded accordingly, as in every nation under heaven all generations have called her blessed (see Lk 1:48). Today in much contemporary .teaching and practice, the brush appears to have been put back behind the door. It is not without significance that this has happened at a time when the values of the numinous, transcend-ence, silence and worship are under severe pressure. Mainstream liturgy, teaching and devotion have virtually nothing to say of the contemplative. Such a need is fostered from the edge, not the center. When influential numbers of our pastors, teachers and opinion-formers generally, seem to lack any obvious feeling for the contemplative, it may beno surprise that they display or encourage little warmth for Our Lady, Seat of Wisdom. ~Vhen meaning has to be on the surface and immediately comprehended, it is perhaps inevitable that so rich and varied traditions of the Church, not least as regards Our Lady, have given way to a subdued monochrome world. : Let Your Gaze Become My Prayer Perhaps all of this may be finally summarized in a few lines from a prayer of St. Anselmto St. John the Evangelist, asking for the love of God: "Ifthen, sir, your gaze has more good in it than my prayer has devotion, let your gaze become my prayer."5 This is a very fine expression of the role of Our Lady, the saints and our fellow-Christians in the Church, one person 331~ / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 in Christ. with ourselves (see Ga. 3:25-28). The individual Anselm asks the aid of the evangelist .John, whom he sees in faith to be now wholly caught up in G6d:.So he asks th~it his own self in his prayer be taken up into sharing what St, John sees. °He speaks to John but looks beyond him following the evangelist's gaze. Love has been described as two people looking in the same direction. What they see draws them togetherenabling them to live as one in a new reality. This we have here. Anselm's prayer is felt to be inferior to John's vision so he asks that "your gaze become my prayer." This, inthe main, is what is meant by Our Lady's patronage. Filled from her conception with the ~,isdom and Spirit of God in vieW of her voc~ition as Mother of God, her whole being reflects the Orie who has mad~ her who she is as she rejoices in God her Savior (see Lk 1:47)i One person in Christ with her, the Christian; and anyone genuinely.asking her he!.p._;'_w.a.n._t.s_t_.o~be taken into her being and held by what she sees "Let your gaze become my prayer." So easy to relate to, inviting, the individual to come in his or her own way, her life is givenomeaning by her Unflinching attachment to the will of God in good days and bad. Such a person is no obstacle between us and God if her gaze becomes our prayer, as the words and images drop away before the holiness of God. One can, of course, with the apophatic tradition, which maintains that it is impossible to say anything of God other than that he is, try to put everything that is not God into a "cloud .of forgetting" leaving only a naked intent for God. So our Lord, sacraments, Our Lady, Scripture, saints--:-~ everything must go. "If you see the Buddha kill him." Well yes, but even the Engiish mystic who expressed this so supremely well, giving as the bottom line between oneself and God, "Worship God with all you have got. All-that- you-are-as,you-are worshipping ail-that-he-is-as-he-is," has his reality first defined in Christ, and must recognize therefore that "it is God for his own loving purpose who puts both. the will and the action into you" (Ph 2:13):6 Whether he adverts to it or not, the ontological reality underpinning his:every movement and prayer is Christ in whom "all things were created. :. He isb(fore all things and in him all things hold together. He is the head of the body, the Church,' (Col. 1:16-18). Reality is thus held in the overarching Christ who reconciled us to God by "making peace by the blood of his cross., by his death" (Col 1:20-22): Blood and death together are irrevocable, costly and messy (so much so that the sensitivities of the Jerusalem Bible translators cause them to omit "blobd"), ~butit was precisely in Christ's crucifixion and resurrection that he can now "present you holy and blameless and irreproachable before him [God]"(Col 1:22)? We are unforgettably marked with the sign of the cross, In Christ, therefore, is found 'the very oxygen enabling us to breathe the air Our Lady of Wisdom/~ 331 of God. One admires the climber attempting Everest, but one knows that he could not set foot on the lower slopes, far less reach the summit without-oxygen. It is never seen but it is always there, and in Christ we are sup-ported by a whole ~loud of ~vitnesses, prophets, apostles, saints among whom is preeminently the Mother of God. They interact with us in Christ in every moment of every day whether we are conscious of it or not. There is no need of mental images of Paul, Our Lady, or even Christ himself. Attachment to Our Lady in this context should not be seefi as a limiting form of prayer. To see her so is possibly to have a fixed, static view of Christian reality not unlike the wooden, materialist outlook of popular nineteenth-century science. The truth of science as glimpsed today is so wonderful and mobil~ that much of it cannot even be imagined, yet its beauty clearly enthralls many, light years away from the earlier approach. Immaturity ~s the problem. We are, for the most part, too pedestrian. But in this lies our salvation. Everyone in Christ is for us. It may be a sign of the times that in an .age full of self-assertion we find it hard to believe that anyone can be self-effacing. But the GOspel reality is just that, "For all things are yours." whether Paul, Bernadette, Catherine, Th~rEse or Mary, "or the world or life or death or the present or the future, all are yours; and you are Christ's; and Christ is God's" (1 Co 3:21-23). We are, perhaps most of us, infants in Christ, with at best an.imperfect, grasp of God loving us i.n Christ, unable without wisdom and the Spirit to see the simplicity of ,Paul's insight, holding all of reality in the present moment in-Christ. But we know the claim that the child has on Christ. And in this above all, surely he is at one with his mother. NOTES tMaisie Ward, Return to Chesterton, Sheed and Ward, 1952, p. 34. 2A. Heschel, The Prophets Vol. 1, Harper and Row, 1971, p.x6. 3C. Dickens, Hard Times, Chap. 2. 4A. Heschel, op. cit. Vol. 2, p. 267. 5B. Ward, The Prayqrs and Meditations of St. Anselrn--Pfayer to St. John the Evan- 'gelist (2), Penguin, 1975. ~ 6C. Woltors, The Cloud of Unknowing and Other Works and The Epistle of Privy Counsel, chap. 4, Penguin, 1978 . 7C. A. Anderson Scott's plausible observation with regard to St. Paul in general is instructive: "The allusion to the blood of Christ, here (Rm 3:25) as in other passages~in Paul, is probably connected with.the overwhelming impression which Paul had received as a spectator of the Crucifixion." Footnotes to St'. Paul (CUP, 1935): Personality, and Religious Adjustments in Older Candidates Matthias Neuman, OS.B. Father Neuman, well known to our readers, whose latest contribution, "The Holiness of Saint Francis: Spiritual Vision and' Lived Suffering,, ~appeared in the issue of September/October, 1985, contin'u6s to teach at Saint Meinrad Seminary; Saint Mein-rad, lndiana :47577. For the past four years my primary occupation has involved directing the pre,theology program in our s.,eminary. This special year-long program ffims to prepare a certai:n group of young men for entrance into a regular course of theological studies for priesthood. These are candidates who already possess their college degrees but who have had no course work in philosophy or theology--or any exposure to a regular spiritual formation program, The very existence of college-graduate or pre-theology years in seminaries bears witness to a significant shift in recent vocational patterns. Fifteen years ago my first-year theology course would have had one or two "older" individuals; they were routinely mixed in with the students who had graduated from various college seminaries. In a decade and a half those one or two have swollen to better than half the first-year classes in many theologates around the United States. This means that a significant portion of today's priesthood candidates are waiting to "test" their possible ~voca-tions until after the college years and after some significant work and societal experience, A similar phenomenon appears among applicants for religious orders of women and men. Almost any meeting of formation personnel deals with some issue or problem concerning "older vocations." Indeed it is not uncommon for a formatiOn directress to be younger than several, of her charges. 332 Adjustments in Older Candidales / 333 While many observers applaud this shift in vocational process, and both priestly and religious recruiters have begun to plot ways of casting their nets in these newly-discover6d waters, the formidable challenges of providing a solid and effective regimen of formation should not be glosse~l over quickly. These men and women come to seminaries and religious houses at a considerably different stage in life than do graduates right out of high school or college. It will not suffice to merel~ ~transfer previous spiritual, academic and social formational methods to ~this new wave, for they bring quite different problematics for spiritual formation, academic programs and general adjustment to religious institutional life. The first year of formation in particular needs to pay.close attention to: l) the backgrounds of these people, 2) the life transitions they are experiencing, and 3) the adjustment problems they will most likely encounter. The first three sections of this article ~ill address these topics in more detail,~and the concluding section will offer some suggestions for helping the candidates themselves to manage this initial transition period more effectively. Backgrounds The ages of these older vocations may range from the mid-twenties to the mid-seventies. (Several were even ordained irf their 80s!) However the bulk of such callings has been in the 25-45 age bracket and I will focus most of my comments on that group. *~- ' 0 Perhaps the first major item format.ion personnel should~-~recognize is that these people-~'even at age twenty-five generally possess a somewhat. solidified personality structure. This doesn't necessarily imply that their personality structures are well-shaped oreven healthy, but simply that they have been hardened to an extent by the pressures of work, societal survival and recreational interactions. Educational research has tended to show that the first two years after college exert, a significant hardening, and even. a temporary halt, to attitudinal and conceptual growth. This can be seen as a natural result of mov~ngfrom the more fluid world of college into a societal context where work-pressures demand a~more fixed cast to one's goals, plans and attitudes. Thus, these individuals differ from the far more malleable candidates trained in the seminary or academy systems of years past. Even though they are obviously considering a major career shift by investigating a priest-ly or religious calling, they usually retain a good deal of .their solidified personality structure. They may not-even be aware of how habitual they have become in. patterns 9f relationship, daily routines and general atti-tudes. Those who have lived alone for even two or three years have devel-oped private habits of socializing and personal recreation which mayclash 3~14 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 strongly with the regular demands of community living. These st~rongly formed !ife-patterns also emerge in the realm of spiritu-ality,. It is not unusual for these men and women to have already expe-rienced in a variety of ways a verY powerful presence of Godin their lives, a Eresence that has been both sustaining and nourishing, a divine presence that has been greatly responsible for calling them to a switch of life-tasks. Many older candidates attest to some kind of "conversion experience" that brought them to this new way .of life even if they had been "possibly considering it." for years. This conversion experience and presen~c.e of God usually has shaped.their personal .spiritualities to a great extent. In particu-lar, the styl~es o.f prayer they favor are generally associated.with the qualities of that particular presence of God, e.g., God in nature~and an individual mystical prayer, God° in a conversion from sinfulness and a prayer of penance, God in~ .familial tradition and a structured devotional prayer. Without. being reflectively aware of it,osuch reasong have usually con-jured up an image of either priesthood or religious life that is primarily an intensification of their personal spirituality. (For example, one young man, age 30, who was converted by his reading of the New Testament~defined the primary task of the priest as teaching the Bible to people.) A formation direct_or may find these candidates to have imperceptibly meshed together~a particular style of prayer, a favored presence of God, and an implicit image of priesthood or religious life. The tight interweaving, of these factors .can cause average to severe problems in the adjustment to a formation pro-gram; the tampering with one item (e.g., teaching different prayer styles or a v.ariant image of religious life) may be perceived by candidates as a threat to the spiritual background and religious experience that gave them their new spiritual impulse. Perhaps the most-common example of the above dynamic occurs in trying to instill a sense of the value and importance of common prayer. Few of my priesthood candidates come with much appreciation or experience of the Liturgy of the Hours. Living as individuals in society, they have usually forged strong patterns of private prayer. Introducing them into the common morning and evening prayer of the semin.a.ry occasions a crisis for some each year. Common prayer does not,meet their "personal needS"; it co~mpetes with private prayer; their former sense of closeness to God gets worn away. Some begin to feel very hostile toward the seminary for ruining their intimacy ,with God:and thus threatening their vocation. It will have to be a sensitive formation program that can "deconstruct" a. person's reli-gious background, i.e. break it into its compon.ent parts, so that the indi-vidual may assimilate'in a healthy~way.the spiritual components of a sound priestly, or religious-order spirituality. Adjustments in Older Candidates 335 People who have worked for even a few years at a competitive job in the societal labor force will accumulate some, highly fixed patterns of routine daily life. The schedule of most jobs mandates some regularity. Daily and weekly habits of work, r~creation and friendships give rise to a network of personal supports that soften the challenges of life. These supports, or "strokes" in the recent psychological lingo~ help to carry a person°through ~the down times of regtilar living. Similarly persons who in an-intefise occupational setting, such as a social case worker, personnel rfianag~r or teacher, may have silently linked part of their adult identity to these supports. - One of the standard planks for a personal identity is the positive affir-mation we receive from the,. significant individuals in our lives (family, friends, mrntors, students).We call on this affirmation regularly~if the pressures ~of our job consistently erode bur well-being and identity. The entranize into a seminary or religious house removes persons from both the comforts of their habitual routines and the necessary strokes of signifi-cant others. This abse~ce may give rise'to a profound gense of loneliness or even abandonment. Perirds of confusion and depression soon compliote matters even more. An insightful formation program needs to be con-stantly alert to these possibilities, and d~velop ways of ?egularly informing and assisting candidates to understand and' process these and similar experiences. A report from a meeting of Midwest seminary rectors in 1981 summa~i"- ized nicely a g,bbd numbef of additional background issues which these priestly candidates bring to the seminary (and religious life). ,. Experience indicates that the can~didate who has made applicatipn for theology school without previous seminary experience possesses all or some of tile following characteristics: he has little or~' no experiefice, in community living; he has not had or.has had little experience of spiritual direction and is concerned about his ability to use the direction offered him; he perceives' himself as very much an outsider in the seminary com-munity; he is unfamiliar with the special language employed both in the professional life of the seminary, e.g., academics and liturgical practice, as well as commufiity living experiences; often he is a man of practical expe-rience. with varying ability to deal with issues on a speculative level; if he is older, he might well have an exaggerated sense of his age; he is more conservative in his spirituality particularly if a recent "conversion expe-rience" has led him to ~hear the call to priesthood; he has high anxiety conceriaing the de~cision which he has recently made to enter the seminary.1 Although much more could be said about background, I will limit my observations to the preceding comments. Formation personnel should 356 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 remember that these older candidates may be more mature and worldly-wise than ~th0se fresh .o~ut of college: but they bring their ~unique bevy of problems with them. Many of these difficulties are frequently connected to a hardened personal and religi6us identity and the unconscious manner in which various factors get meshed (e.g., prayer style, validity of conversion, and expectations). Frequently these problems boil to the surface when candidates get fitted into the regulated worlds of the ~eminary or religious community. (NB. Seminaries and religious houses may ~be psychologically highly regulated even without minute daily schedules. Long periods of the day may be free and unstructured, but those hours are also 7"filled" .with pow.erful academic, ministerial and spiritual expectations. Such a day is regulat.ed not by schedule but by official expectation.) None of the above.problems should be considered insoluble. In my experience the great majority of candidates can successfully negotiate these personal and religious challenges. But the formation program as such needs to positively assist.,these men and women to identify accurately what is happening in their lives. These transitional adjustments are not usually vocational crises, and sudden hostility toward the seminary, religious community or individual superior is not always a problem with authority. To understand what is happening emotionally a clear presentation to them of the range of personal transition going on needs to be conveyed. Multiple Transitions As the previous section mentioned, a young man or woman coming to seminary or religious community after several years of work and societal experience will confront a variety of transitions. Usually the candidates are somewhat aware and a bit apprehensive about the challenges ahead and they are ~bgnizant Of what they have "given up." Howeverl up6~ arrival at their new place of r~sidence they can be overwhelmed with the thrill of a new religious start.Having left the world where one struggled to survive religiously in a secular and cynical culture, they begome exhilarated in the environment of a supportive, like-minded community. Even the most dis, tant hopes of spirituality and ministry suddenly seem possible. (Every year each new group ,of candidates within .the first two weeks wants to add even ¯ more prayer services to the school's. Eucharist, morning rand evening prayer.) Thus the man~, transitions of life get forgotten ina tidal wave of religious fervor, but the transitions are still going on silently and relent-lessly. In time they frequently turn that tidal wave into a scorched desert of barren feeling. The transitions' are frequently more complicated and subtle than the Candidate realizes. The first transition is the move from a secular world Adjustments in Older Candidates / 337 with its pockets of popular religiosity into an encompassing ecclesiastical religious world. In the former situation faith and religious practice have served as powerful, value-laden forces ttiat supported, protected and nour-ished the individual; in the latter situation religious practice is :a constant, pervading element of almost every waking activity. An ecclesiastical reli-gious world often fails to separate the trivial and the important, the special and the ordinary, the cynical and the solemn. It's religion twenty'four hours a day! One ~young man said, "I've talked more God-talk in the last six months than in my previous twenty~six years combined. It's blowing my mind!" This religious overload takes its toll on the psychic system: the young man or woman may begin to feel he or she has lost that "something special" which faith provided. When all'is religious, nothing is religious! They may become distressed by their first in-close dealings with religious practices that are, routine, cynical and sometimes blatantly hypocritical. Their inexperience at differentiating motives and practices within a total ecclesiastical world can make them feel that the only way out is global rejection. The formation program needs to regularly help the candidates express and process their feelings towards the total religious community. Individuals obviously vary, but my students generally show signs in three weeks to a month of inner turmoil over their newfound ecclesiastical world. ,The transition to an ecclesiastical world will slowly induce other nega-tive ramifications. Young ,adult candidates begin the initial year with an amount of confidence they have built up in maintaining their faith com-mitment against diverse social presst]res. It is not unusual for some to have had to justify their vocational change to family, friends and coworkers; repeated justifications build in them a certain sense of well-being about their commitment. Other people publicly acknowledge them to be more religiously oriented for going to a seminary or convent. But upon entering the total ecclesiastical world, they soon perceive themselves as complete novices in more.ways than~one, They listen to conversations or classes filled with" church jargon and they soon judge themselves to know practically nothing about faith or religion. Liturgical customs befuddle them and they are embarrassed to ask names of objects, vestments or devotions that ¯ everyone else seems to know"intimately. Three months ago they were explaining many aspects of the Catholic faith to' coworkers; now they can easily perceive themselves as religiously dumb or incompetent. This partic-ular transition may contribute to their conservative stance, which is really a means of salvaging some vestige of religious dignity from their past. This transition, likeo all of them, can be jolting, but it can also be worked through. ~i31~ / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 Another key transition is the movement from one fixed social setting to another. Seminaries and religious communities tend to be enclosed, regu-lated societies (by laws or general expectations or both). Daily schedules and societal routines, such as meals, common prayers and social relation-ships can be vastly different from the social style that older candidates have become accustomed to. The-predominance,of same-sex relationships causes real hardships to some; the absence of children or family settings may be bothersome; the lack of free, unstructured evenings or weekends or the lack of a car and its freedom disrupt.the previous.ways that individuals had dissipated tension. That tension now accumulates and begins to boil within. ¯ I have found that on6 of the largest and most troubling transitions for young adults is the entrance into a trainin.g'program where theend is preparation for a. public role, along with the public evaluation that role requires. The priesthood as public leadership in the Chtirch and the eccle-sial witness of a religious community both demand evaluations of, persons seeking to enter those positions. Many older candidates have never thought of their religious pursuit through this lens,~-having confined their religious practice to a predominantly interior, individual and privatized realm (as is the fashion ofmost religious practice in the United States).2 The communal environment of seminaries and religious communities is saturated by the air of evaluation. Evaluation procedures are everywhere in current practice: academic, personal, spiritual, and so forth. All individuals must evaluate themselves (and others).on an annual basis. Each priesthood candidate will undergo an overall evaluation by faculty, and formation personnel on such matters as intellectual competence, social skills, pastoral abilities and spiritual growth. Externalization of what has often been a highly privatized religious realm can be terribly upsetting for the young adult. Some simply cannot see that,such matters should be evaluated publicly; the intense individualism of their religious background and expe-riences reacts strongly. Others become oversensitized, fearful. They worry about expulsion for unknown: reasons or accusation .by some Grand Inquisitor. Still others .may become hesitant because they°'fail to separate the realm of public behavior and standards from interior faith and direc-tion. A criticism about their lack of social abilities~can be "understood" as a criticism about °the integrity of theif~faith. A good. formation program should work with candidates to help them both understand and interiorize the meaning and demands of assuming a public leadership role, or the public demands of community~belonging. One young man said, "I just don't ~want to. be ste.reotyped~." I responded. "Sorry, it comes with the job." Many of these young adults who grew up in Adjustments in Older Candidates / 339 the age when traditional Catholic distinctions had slipped into shadows do not know the distinctions between "internal" and "external" forum. This must be carefully spelled out, and repeated from time to time. Even with all this, the appreciation of what a public religious leadership role demands does not occur without prayer, struggle and guidance through spiritual direction. The appreciation and interiorization of a public religious respon-sibility (beyond that of a private, personal spirituality) possesses all the elements of a significant conversion experience in life.~ To truly recognize the priestly ministry or the vowed religious life as constituting an ecclesial figureis also to accept thgse lifestyles as embodying~a responsibility to the whole Catholic world and Catholic tradition; this reaches considerably beyond a personal arid private" religious obligation. It requires an accep-tance and interiorization of public behavior, skills and attitudes which relate as much to the community of the Church as to my personal relatiom ship with God. Life transitions do pile up on the young adult who arrives at a seminary or religious community and seeks to discern a prssible calling to priest-hood or vowed life. We have considered several of the major ones: into an encompassing ecclesiastical world, from one fixed social setting into a quite different one, arid into a ~climate of higlfiaiablic evaluation. The anxieties generated by these transitioris can become severe, as the rii~xt section will show. For the l~resent fie simply need to note them and recognize that a Victic of directly addressing these transitions needs ~to be a constant com-ponent of both the formational and spiritual-direction program for these young adults. The Trauma of Transition For more than a decade the Alban Institute in Washington, D.C.I has studied the dynamics of "transition technology" in ministerial situations (e.g. from seminary to par!sh; from associate to pastor,,from one parish to another)) Leaders of the°institute recognized that those occasions when a person moves from one "known" social setting into a new and relatively unknown social setting constitute some of the most ~vulnerable periods in an individual's life. Although many organized-church traditions have fre-q uently moved, individuals from place to place as a matter of policy, little has been.done to help them make effective transitions to their new ministry or enable them to manage the sometimes severe traumas which may occur. (Th'e "grace of obedience"~was thought to effect the desired rebalancing:) The research of the Alban Institute has shown tl~at beginmngs in a pastoral situation are important; that the first months of adjustment frequently determine one's long-range adaptation and effectiveness in a new setting. 340/ Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 (In fact, more and more dioceses and religious houses are coming, to recognize the incredible influence of the first full-time placement.) Much of this research on transition technology becomes extremely relevant to young adults entering seminaries and religious communities for the first time. My particular seminary program deals with about thirty youngmen a year. l.would say it is.common for better than half of each group to feel some uncomfortableness over the transitions the$, experience. Their dis-comfiture may range from mild annoyance to severe personal upheaval. It is not unusual for an enthusiasm of the first weeks to slowly diminish and give wayto a growing diso'rientation. Some begin to.worry that they made a mistake, and the seminary .becomes a fearsome, t~rapping situation because their previous job has.been discontinued and their housing sold or leased. Others just ask over and over, "Why am 1 here?" and can't seem to find a satigfactory answer. A few may worry that their entire faith is crumbling; they can't explain sudden doubts which appeared where only months before there was absolute conviction. This time of doubt and dejection is frequently accompanied~by physical symptoms. Nagging illnesses like colds or upset stomachs pop up; physical weariness becomes the order of the day. Changes in bowel habits or sleep-lessness can increase anxiety. A transition experience cuts across all dimen-sions of life: physical, psychological, social and spiritual. We must understand the effects of social transitions on all these human areas,,and be ready to help people negotiate them. Psychologically, in a period of transition, by definition a young adult coming from secular societal life to the seminary or religious community, his or her daily patterns of life have all been removed, and new patterns do not immediately emerge. In certain aspects these individuals are like.immi-grants, slowly searching and experimenting for new roots. This time change may cause strong internal feelings to erupt. Some individuals Who previously held positions of authority and responsibility in the societal work force now feel the disorientation and worthlessness that lack of authority and status may bring. And there is no work or service in their new life to compensate. The sudden displacement of responsibilit.y may spark feelings of worthlessness or humiliation. (~Karl Marx had a valid insight in saying that a good deal of our personal identity comes from the socially significant work we do.) Lastly, the h~avy outpouring of psychic energy that goes with meeting new people, places and routines day after day leaves everyone tired and feeling a bit drained, and that weariness usually compounds the other negative feelings. This trauma of transition is not unusual, neither is it .a test that will, Adjustments in Older Candidates / 341 necessarily overwhelm a certain percentage of candidates. If these persons understand the probability of its occurrence at some time ~n their first year, do some preparation, and know some techniques of personal management, they are~able to handle it with a modicum of discomfort. One last point.should be watched: there it a quite normal dynamism of expectation which may w6rk havoc in situations of transitions, and I have frequently noticed it in pre-theology candidates. These young men often come from societal settings where they have been able to exercise some Christian service and engage in personal spirituality projects on a limited scale (perhaps in a parish volunteer setting or a Christian social-action group). When they enter the seminary and begin formal preparation for priesthood, their expectations escalate and they "assume" an immediate increase in Christian serviceand spirituality practices. But with full-time classes and school activities they are soon doing less actual ministry than before, and their personal prayer gets mixed up by the communal obliga-tions mentioned before.4 Psychologically their expectations are "gunning" the spiritual motor, so to speak, but socially they are in Park, and they find that they are grinding themselves down. This dynamic needs to be watched and worked with by formation personnel and spiritual directors. Older candidates need to formulate sl6~vly and patiently a "plan of identification" just as the Alban lfistitute counsels new ministers to work gradually towards formulating a plan of ministry for their new pastoral assignment.5 Just as six months is a recommended period of grace bef6re initiating parish changes, it is p]-obably a reasonable time-allotment for new-candi-dates before they attempt to assess (and escalate) any personal expectations they place o'n themselves. Suggestions for Personal and Spiritual Management The perception that older priesthood and religious candidates require qualitatively different kinds of formation programs is an ,idea that has already taken deep root among vocation and formation personnel. Signifi-cant strides have been made in many areas like course instruction and communityqiviiag requirements. I fiaerely hope to add a bit to this growing body of knowledge b~ suggesting some tactics and strategies to assist these individuals working through their initial adjustment or transition phase. These comments are more often applicable within the first six months of entry into seminary or religious community. The first strategy, in the line of preventive medicine, is quite simply knowledge, an awareness that some transition-anxiety will probably occur no matter how fine and enthusiastic the first weeks may be. There will undoubtedly be a great diversity in how individuals manage transitions; for ~149 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 some the adjustments may be slight, but few will have no problems what-ever. Simply to have in one's awareness a basic grasp of the multiple transitions, and how these transitions produce p~rsonal stress will provide guidelines for interpretation and action. To diagnose a difficulty ~icc.urately. is the first essential task in any kind of counseling. In this instance it may offset the further anxiety that can result if the young persgn feel.s that his or her vocation or faith is disintegrating. A second level o.f strategy would articulate a set of tactics that °might assist the young adult inthe midst of transition stresses to cope with these pressures. These tactics are similar to managing any "survival situation.TM They can be briefly summarized: 1) Lowe.rpqrsonal expectations. Instead of escalating their demands upon themselves to pray more fervently, work harder and do more service to others,, efforts should be made to cut back on these eoxpectations temporarily. The key here is to conserve physical and psychological energy for the tasks of psychic self-preservation. These indi-viduals are already operating at a reduced, energy level (due to the drain that social transitions exert), and there is no way they can successfully meet escalatedexpectations. Repeated failures merely compound guilt and nega-tive feelings, 2) Increased rest. The bodily systems are the foundation for psychological and emotional health as well as for making accurate judg- ¯ ments. When emotions are depleted, the body needs rest to coalesce strength and rebuild proper balance. For a time one may have to sacrifice other elements in the daily schedule in order, to get some additional rest time. 3) Pay attention to building daily routines. One of the reasons for high energy drain in transition times is that ever~h.ing is. ne,.w (people, places, schedule, social expectations). An inordinate amount of attentive awareness goes into "meeting" new people and performing even simple daily tasks. Habit or routine is Of value precisely to relieve that constant outpouring. Seek to regularize daily work-times, eating .and rest habits, companions, and so forth. 4) Spiritual direction and counseling. It always helps to talk tlirough problems, especially with a person who can provide a wider frame ~of reference. It does take some humility to asks. for help, particularly when one wanted so much to get off to a fabulous start in a new career. 5) Remind yourself that perserveranc.e is a Christian virtue. The young adult might remember that he or she has ~already made a very significdnt personal decision (to seek a testing of priesthood or religious life) and that decision should be stuck to "in good times and in bad," as any promise ought to be. A third, strategy would be to:recognize that a dynamic similar to the grieving process needs to tran_spire in the person. For many of these older candid~ites there is a break and removal,from friends, supports and joys of Adjustments in Older Candidates living. A sense of loss may strike them~ sharply as the first bloom of seminary or religious-community life wears off. The classic stages of the grieving process denial, anger, bargaining,,depression, acceptance cab find analogues in this context: fighting the onset of discouraging feelings, anger at the institution or superiors, bargaining to find some accomodating way, and so forth. Formation personnel should help candidates to realize that such feelings may be part of the natural adaptive process and not simply a rejection or d~nial of their vocations to priesthood or religious life. At particular moments it helps to say clearly ~hat one must give oneself permission to be discouraged or angry or depressed. That~acceptance may be necessary if an individual is to work the grieving process to a resolution and a newfound balance. Finally, a major theme of the pre-theology or novitiate year, which can be successfully introduced when the candidates are a couple of months into the program, is that of Christian conversion. A goodly number of older candidates arrive at their respective ecclesia~stical institutions as the result of some form of conversion experience, and so they often feel that the major part of the conversion process is behind them. The theological understand-ing of conversion as lifelong, process, with the tougher steps still ahead, becomes more graspable as the first sheen of the year wears off and people settle into the long haul Of personal and ministerial formation, lndeed conversion becomes more challenging the deeper it penetrates into our hearts and souls. Later people may look back and realize-that the expe-rience which brought them to seminary or religious community only cracked the surface. The more difficult and richer stages lie yet in the future. The preceding strategies are some helps I have found in aiding candi-dates to grapple with and conquer the onset of transition anxieties in their first year of seminary or religious community. By no means are they meant to be complete and exclusive. The formation literature that deals with this new form of religious and ministerial candidate grows steadily in breadth and depth; these reflections are intended to be one voice in that continuing conversation. NOTES ~"Candidates Entering Schools of Theology Without Prior Seminary Experie.nce," Report of Midwest Catholic Seminary Rectors (Duplicated Copy-1981), pp. 2-3. 344 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 2John Coleman "The Situation for Modern Faith," Theological Studies 39 (1978), pp. 601-632. 3AIban Institute materials 'include a series of pamphlets and workbooks by Roy M. Oswald: Crossing the Boundary Between Seminary and Parish; The Pastor as New-comer; New Beginn(ngs: Pastorate Start-Up Workbook. 4A similar process can transpire in religious community candidates even though they experience common prayer as a part of their ideal. This happens when an individual has so meshed his or her religious self-identity with a particular form of private prayer, that they are perceived as inseparable. It can be more difficult to unravel these situa-tions in religious community settings because of the difficulty of finding some "sabbati-cal time" to do the rettiinking and revaluing. 5Ro3/M. Oswald, New Beginnings: Pastorate Start-Up Workbook (Washington, D.C.: Alban Institute Publications, 1977), pp: 33-65. 61 have dealt with these dynamics further in " 'I'm Just Making It': Survival as a .Spiritual Value," REVlEW FOR R E~.~G~OUS 37 (1978), pp. 277-278. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions land II Address: by Patricia Spillane, M. S~ C. Price: 151.25 per copy, plus postage. Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. SL Louis, Missouri 63108 Extremism in Ignatius of Loyola Tad Dunne, S.J. Father Dunne, who previously taught systematic theology at Toronto's Regis College, is now Director of Novices for the Detroit Province. He may be addressed at Loyola House: 2599 Harvard Road: Berkley. Michigan 48072. Retreats can be deceptive. Wewithdraw from our daily0meanderings and ascend to some lofty point from which we can see, from a spiritual perspec-tive, where our journey has taken us and where it is going. We may feel a need for an outlook quite opposite to oar culture's, even extremely so in some sense, if we are to live a vibrant spirituality in the midst of the world. From that vantage point, we search the gospels for some absolute ideal against which to test our everyday activities. And usually we come away with a vision simple and uncompromising. Then we come down from the heights, and before long we start work-ing on a balance between these opposites: not too talkative, but not too silent; not a workaholic, but not lazy; don't jump to conclusions, but don't accept everything mindlessly either. We look back on our retreat from quite a different perspective than we had while we were in it. Then we saw ourselves as refusing to com, promise with the world; but now we feel maybe just a little more faithful or a little more loving, and we count that small gain as our humble best. IS this retreat desire for some spiritual extreme an illusion we amuse ourselves with while p.erc.hed far above the harsh realities of the city? Or is the opposite true: that our adaptations to everyday realities compromise something in us that is precious in the sight of God? Ignatius of Loyola was one person, among many others in our history, who pushed for the no-compromise attitude: ~6 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 Just as people of the world who follow the world love and seek with such great diligence honors, fame, and esteem for a great name on earth, as the world teaches (hem, so those who are progressing i9 the spiritual life and truly following Christ our Lord love and intensely desire everything oppo-site (GE 101).~ This sounds impressive, but many doubt that we can make such a ¯ black/white distinction today. Unlike Ignatius in his day, we perceive a certain continuity between religious values and secular values. Our society's hospitals, its welfare systems, our efforts to eliminate poverty and to estab-lish political grounds for world peace all point to a growing convergence of what "the world" and what Christians intensely desire. Indeed, a case could be made that it is chiefly because of Christian values that the Secular City is gradually taking on humane, even spiritual goals for the human race. So should we regard Ig.natius' contentious approach to life as just a temporary stance made necessary by the chaos of the Church and of society in his time? I would like to argue a strong "No!" Strong, because unless we see some practical usefulness to an "everything opposite,, attitude, we would lose our sense of what is radidal about being Christian. We would gradually grow accustomed to "the world" as it is, and lose our critical 'sense. We w6uld have no razor-edged criterion for weighing practical alter-natiVes in ourapostolates. But what exactly does Ignatius mean by "everything opposite?"Para-doxically, he also counseled balance in many areas of life. So we can legitimately ask in what sense ought we be spiritual extremists, and in what sense men and women of prudent balance? Although I focus m~inly on Ignatius, I have no doubt that most°of the spiritual giants in human history would know what Ignatius was talking about. A Dialectic of Desires First of all, this "everything opposite" attitude does not refer to external social or cultural realities. It does not mCan that we should be opposed to all modern institutions just because they are "of the world." In any cage, these are always a mixed product of intelligence and ~aliqe, of good will and stupidity, and so in their regard we try not to throw out the baby with the bath. What Ignatius is talking about is rather ~ithe inner realities of consciousness. The "everything" which ought to 15e opposite to the "world" means inner desires. The disciple's desires ought to be completely opposite to the worldly penchant in us to "love and seek with such great diligence honors, fame, and esteem for a great name bn earth,~as the world teaches." Let me explain this more .fully. On the one hand, we revel in praise, we take pains to protect our Extremism ih Ignatius of Loyola/347 reputations, and we easily pour our energies into making a name for ourselves. On the other hand, rebukes chasten us, insults sting us, and injuries humble us. However, even when these humiliations are unjustified, we do have to admit that the shock to our pride does have a therapeutic element in it. In some small way, we need a come-uppance now and then. To be "put in one's pldce" can shatter self-defeating illusions we cherish about ourselves. What is very important to notice here is thatwhat honors do to ore: sense of ourselves, and what put-downs do, "are completely opposite. It is these opposing senses of'ourselves, I believe, that Ignatius means°by "everything opposite." Wl~at Ignatius gives in the General Examen, he expands upon in the meditation on the Two Standards (SE 136-148).2 There he shows how different acquired tastes about lifestyle usually lead to quite deep and quite opposite longings abo~t one's self-awareness. On the one hand. the taste for m0ney'leads to a desire for a great name. On the other, the taste for poverty usually leads to a longing for a certain anonymity the kind that frees a person to live without crippling self-concern. And beyond the great name anti th~ little name lie the r~al objects of one's deepest love what Ignatius calls either a.life of pride or a life of humility. Learning the Dialectic of Desires ~ Now few people recognize that, in faCt, they long either for pride or for humility. In"one's everyday choices,, most things seem morally gray, with-out serious consequefices., And yet they do add up to a direction in one's life, a direction that sooner or later reveals whether a person is self-centered or not. So it takes some reI:le~tion to real'ize for oneself that underneath a great number of apparently harmless concerns there lurks one's fundamen-tal inclination to pride. Likewise it takes some measure of self-reflection to notice the interior movements that in fact are a person's desire for humility. Once both these movements are recognized,° we can see that they are entirely opposite pulls in consciousness. Moreover, we can then begin to recognize that this dialectic of desires fihderlies our every activity, and see how it profoundly determines the person we become and the stamp we leave on our world. Given the'importance of this self-education in inner movements, it is no wonder that Ignatius prescribes more meditations on the Two Standards than on any other in the Exercises. ~ Still, we must admit, despite repeated meditations on the Two Stan-dards and nur~erous exhortations on the value of resisting the pull to ownership and to be held in high esteem, even the spiritually mature do not easily maintain.such a dialectical attitu.de toward their inner movements. And so we must ask why an "everything opposite" attitude is so difficult to 348 / Review.['or ReliL, ious~ May-June, 1986 live out. One reason is that we have failed to see the point of the Two Standards meditation. We may shave "done it" during a retreat and felt we got the point. Perhaps we understood Ignatius' view of the spiritual struggle very well and saw its connection toomaking choices in life. So we act as though it is enough to grasp the concept of spiritual struggle; we sincerely hope to bring the concept to bear in our everyday situations. What we forget is that life is concrete, not abstract. The people and the situations around us are a profoundly mysterious jumble of grace and malice, requiring in-depth reflection every day. Mediiation is .not analysis. Nor is =t simply ar~ appreciation of an abstract vision. Rather, meditation should be an ongoing and strenuous exerc=se in understanding the interac-tion between our concrete surroundings and our inner struggles. Ignatius, in fact, appeals very little to the concept of struggle. By that I mean that he does not analyze the meaning of "acting a, gainst" considered as a principle from which actions can be determined. It is one thing to acknowledge that life is a struggle, but quite another to name exactly what we are struggling with each day. In his practice and teaching of discernment Ignatius seldom appeals to an abstract rule of life. Instead, he appeals to imagination and to history to show that life is essentially a dialectic of desires, because he wants us to realize it in our own lives. For example, in the General Examen, he asks that the candidate for the Society of Jesus "ponder" how helpful it is to imitate the humiliated Christ. Does "ponder" mean conceptualize and ar~.lyze here? Not at all. The candidate is asked to imagine spiritually advanced men and womer~ and to notice how in fact they "intensely desire" to be clothed exactly as Christ, because of the love they bear him. lgnatius does not tell the candidate to imitate Christ humiliated and poor. He directs him only t,~ im.agine what the loyal disciple desires. Likewise in the Two Standards, the retreatant imagines the "servants and friends" of Christ, how they are naturally attracted in the direction opposite to pride, and how they attract others in the direction of h~mility.' I believe that ~Igriatius is trying to help the retreatant distinguis~h between several otherwise nameless, interior experiences. By focusing on the disciple instead of the Master, Ignatius clearly means to have us consider which Of our inner experiences, among the many that occur, corresponds to that particular attraction to Christ which the true disciple experiences. In other words, he wants us to discriminate among inner desires, not apply some facile, clean-cut rules about behavior. I said that Ignatius appeals also to history to teach us about these two pulls in consciousness. He does this in two ways. First, he directs a~tention Extremism in Ignatius of Loyola to the purposes which motivated Jesus in his work on earth so that we might better imitate him. True disciples "desire to resemble and imitate our Creator and Lord Jesus Christ. since it was for our spiritual profit that he clothed himself as he did" (GE.101 ). Notice that lgnatius calls Jesus "our Creator." This makes the choices of Jesus for poverty and humiliations a deliberate revelation of how we can best fulfill the purpose of our creation. Our Creator, Jesus Christ, came with this express purpose--to "give us an example that in all things possible we"might seek., to imitate and follow him, since he is the way that leads us to life" (GE 101). For Ignatius, God desired to enter human history in person, taking on the only condition that truly gives life, a condition of poverty and humility. If there was any doubt which inner desire one can depend on, now we see clearly that Jesus Christ freely and wisely chose .poverty and humiliations. History now has a model-member to guide it~ Jesus Christ, not just Lord but Creator as well, in imitation of whose interior .desires we find real life. Ignatius appeals to history in another manner which;although it is less obvious in the texts, underlies everything in the General Examen and the Exercises. Like St. Paul, he boldly sets his own historical experience and that of his first companions as the measure of what abnegation means in the concrete. In Chapter. Four of the General Examen, which Ignatius wrote with the overall intention that novices accept the idea of abnegation,3 we find this reason given: "For where the Society's first members have passed through these necessities and greater bodily wants, the others who come to it should endeavi~r, as far as they can, to reachthe same point as the.earlier ones, or to go farther in our Lord" (GE 81). In other words, the candidate is told that he is entering a community which is not leading itself; it is being led by God. Like Israel, the Society's founding historical expe-rience is normative for the Society's continuing style.Therefore for the simple reason that God moved the early companions to love poverty and humiliations in order to achieve the humility of Jesus, so too shOuld the later companions, because this is not just human work but the very labor of God nbt only in our psyches but in our history too. Isee two kinds of meditations which these reflections should prompt. First, we should learn for ourselves how to recognize when ~we are pulled toward humility and when towards pride. To do this, it may help to compare our~own inner experience to that of deeply spiritual persons. Their outwardly simple and self-effacing lifestyle is a manifestation of a militant obedience, to a deep and steady love within. Authentic people avoid applause, not because they are shy but because they are courageously maintaining a spirit which is very precious to them. Second, we should meditate on the various stories in which God acted ~ / Review for Religious, Ma.v-June, 1986 for the Church through Ignatius, or through any of the men and women who understood the struggle within. Their story is part of our history, and our story draws its meaning from that shared history. God indeed has entered history permanently, not only in the person of Christ Jesus but also in the hearts of our spiritual ancestors. Ignatius and his companions, in particular, recognized that their experience of begging and mockery gave them great joy. And why? Because they felt a concrete share in the expe-rience of their~Creat0r and Lord. Once they decided to form a community, they wrote constitutions with the purpose of structuring, as far as possible. a continual reenactment by its members of their'often difficult yet greatly joyful desires. We can read Scripture in the same way. By attending to the inner experiences which lay behind the texts of Scripture, we can recognize the two pulls of consciousness and the meamng of each, For example, when Jesus heard the woman cry out, "Happy is the womb that bore you and the breasts that nursedyou!" he replied, "Not as happy as those who hear the Word of God and keep it!" (Lk 11:27-28). As I read it, this text says that the ~hief concern of a happy consciousness is inner obedience, not family loyalty nor pride in the fruits of one's labor.- For another example, we hear the reading from Wisdom, "I esteemed her [wisdom] more than scepters and thrones:. I loved her more than health or beauty" (7:8-10). What else is this wisdom but, the constant desire to live with ,the regular humiliations that come with living in the truth? Once we understand that what we call "salvation" is in fact the outcome of a tension in consciousness, we can read any scriptural stories and recognize familiar inner movements in ourselves. In this fashion, by seeing our pres-ent experience in the light of the gospels, we can grow to love the humble, self-transcending path. An Empirical View of the Dialectic Having said all that, there .still remains a nagging question. Many deeply spiritual men and women in fact have meditated in this way, have lived in actual poverty, have been stung by the insults, and know the joy that can accompany these experiences, but they regard this as a persono! asceticism only. They possess only vague notions of what the humble way has to do with peace in the world and the ongoing struggle of cultural and political leaders, to achieve it. Perhaps they believe in the~principle that pride pulls down nations, but they have no mental frameworkfor under-standing how it does so. Nor do they perceive how anyone~'s humility might everbuild up a nation. As a result, while they may live out a dialectical attitude ih their personal.lives, they can make no connections between it Ertremism in Ignatius of" Loyola / 351 and contemporary political science, psychology, sociology and economics. And so they seem to ache for the world but know nothing about how to improve it. Our world, after all, is thoroughly empirical, unlike Ignatius' world. which it seems, doted more on eternal verities. Were Ignatius alive today, 1 believe that besides appealing to imagination and to history, he would add a functional explanation of how the dialectic of desires underlies social progress and decline. That is, he would seek to explain how an inner penchant for doing without funds or fame works to bring about a redemp-tion in Christ Jesus that would mean something to this world. Or. to use his terms, he would explain what role ',discernment of spirits" plays in "redeeming" the world: To work out that functional explanation of how discernment of spirits facilitates redemption, we have to express the movements of the good and bad angels in terms that the average person can find in experience; °There are two experi.ences in particular which we must point out. each repr_esent-ing a pull or drawing in consciousness on the side of Christ's standard. First- is the experience of intending the truth. This experience relates to an extremely broad range of objects, and yet, as experience, it is quite distinct from many other kinds of inner experience. To "intend the truth" means to want to know reality, to search for answers to questions, and to respect the truth when we find it. This intending, this search, this respect, pulls against a counter-drift in us which settles for simple answers, for impressive words, for tricky, solutions, and for comforting illusions. Second is the experience of intending the good. This too relates to a ¯ broad range~ of objects and yet is quite a distinct feeling in consciousness. We ;'intend the good" when we weigh options for the sake of discovering what is objectively the best choice. In doing so, .we pull against ~ counter-tendency which seeks the merely satisfying, the subjectively comfortable. To want the truly good often means to choose a more painful path, but a better .one. And the criterion we use .to tell which is better is not only an examination of pros and cons.but also and chiefly, I believean expe-rience of fulfilled,or frustrated desire in our hearts. With these two experiences in mind--the intention of truth and the intention of good we can analyze how an "everything opposite" attitude works redemption in concrete situations, and how a failure to be strongly contentious prevents redemption from taking over. Let me illustrate this in several different areas of life. Some Illustrations To a great extent we all have difficulty with our feelings. Speaking for 352 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 myself, whenever I meet a stranger at a party, I seem to listen to our conversation with one ear and to my inner apprehensions with the other. It doesn't work very well because I often say things I immediately feel foolish about. Just when I hope to make a good impression, 1 feel I make a bad one. This happens because my mind was not fully on what we were talking about. I was also thinking about how to feel accepted, and so I blurted out things unrelated tothe topic of our conversation. Things are not much better with friends either, particularly when it comes to dealing with anger. When a friend gets angry with 'me, I want to strike back or at least defend myself. But neither reaction helps me under- 'stand what has gone wrong, and this failure to understand only makes it that much harder to work out an amicable solution. The ideal, of course, is to be able to acknowledge the truth of my own feelings and the feelings of others. This means workifig both to name the feelings and to pinpoint what the feelings are focused on--not an easy task for anybody. Negative feelings in particular are often repressed, and yet they are our best indicators that something of value is going ~ wrong. Because they are meant to alert us to harm, we should take them seriously, making every attempt first to acknowledge them and then to understand what they are all about. But this requires a no-compror~ise attitude towards those, pulls inside us which spring to "defend our poor egos. Those pulls create illusions which seduce us and cushion us against taking the sometimes painful responsibility~of facing the truth and doing our real best. For another illustraton of how dedication to reality and to objective worth helps bring order and sense into an ot.herwise ch~aotic situation, consider how communities tend by nature to be self-centered. As a com-munity we may be very realistic and quite responsible where each other are concerned, but this does nothing to prevent us from being aloof and oblivious to outsiders. Every community tends to reinforce its owri biases, to congratulate itself on its victories, and to speak a language full of value judgments 'that no one questions. Members seldom wonder whence its resources come and where its garbage goes. They seldom question whether or not its enjoyments are paid for by the sweat and malnutrition of foreigners. Unfortunately, for all the values inherent in community, there is very little in community itself that directs it beyond itself. These powerful gravi-tational forces toward self-centeredness can be found in communities of all sizes: couples in love, large families, ethnic groups, labor unions, nations-- and even religions. But all such communities live among other communi-ties. They contain subgroups, and they belong to larger groups. Wittiout some cultural commitment to the larger, more common good, subgroups Extremism in Ignatius of Loyola / 353 cut back their good will and limit their creativity to what benefits them-selves alone. So the normal demand for large-scale cooperationis regularly sacrificed for some small-scale gain: first for this and then for that faction. Sadly and ironically, once this game of competition between groups begins, none of the groups benefits as much as each of them might have, had they all shared their wits and their good will with one another. Historically, self-centered communities have enlarged their vision and commitments only when they have been provoked from within by a prophet. Usually.the prophet gathers a select community of like-minded people together to become the leaven in the dough. But before the prophet speaks a single word or calls a single disciple, he or she bbeysan inner pull toward truths and values that run counter to the prevailing attitudes. Prophets have reputations for being contentious. They get that way because they already fight an interior battle between illusions that are familiar and truths that are strange, between old, accepted ways of treating people and new, more dignified ways. So they cry out to the people they love, calling them to realize that they are playing a no-win game with other groups. When prophets are successful, a reform movement will get under, way only insofar as it deals with the community's concrete relations to other groups. The measure of its success will be the degree to which it demolishes any self-centered myths which its own authorities may propagate in the name of community strength or unity. But its members have to wake up intellectually. Only when they recognize these myths in themselves and wage an interior war against them will this peaceful revolution be~in. For my final illustration, I want to highlight the inner struggle that takes place in what we call the deep thinkers--scientists, historians, philo-sophers, and theologians, both the professional and the amateur. Contrary to popular opinion, deep thinkers often do not have an astronomically high I.Q. They work slowly but steadily. Nor are they born "bright;" they become aware of long-range implications and complex problems only by a steady fight against their minds' drift toward the easy answers. Again, you can see my point. On the one hand, we all experience a pull " toward a bogus form of knowing; the kind that relies on memory, rhetoric and bluffing. On the other, we also experience an "entirely opposite" pull towards asking honest questions, and searching for the best explanations, fighting against any worry that someone else .might beat us to a solution. We all have felt the desire to belittle intellectual inquiry and to disregard journals of opinion; even as we secretly wish we had the staying power to work for a more than surface understanding of the world around us. We cannot excuse our anti-intellectualism on the grounds of mental 3~4 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 dullness. The so-called "dull" can be extremely bright when it comes to practical and immediate concerns, Here lies the road to pride again. On its own power alone; our intelligence would n~ver stop asking questions about anything, no matter how remote. But when, the fruits of our reflections are not immediate and palpable, then a prideful concern for our own welfare forces its way in and compels our intelligence to surrender. We yield to the forces in our consciousness that move us toward easy answers, silly responses, and. make-believe solutions. While we all recognize these pulls in ourselves, we should notice what happens when psychologists, histbriians, political scientists, economists and the like give in to them. Their shortsighted solutions to human crises 'make life more miserable not just for themselves but for countless other human beings. Yet no jury indicts them for malpractice. No preacher denounces them from the pulpit. Instead, we give them the benefit of the doubt that ~'they did their best." But upon their interior obedience to the canons of truth--an obedience monitored by themselves alone--hangs the future of anyone whom their theories, and policies' touch. From this large-scale perspective, we can see better that every time someone settles for'merely partial answers to problems, he or she usually introduces a solution which itself needs fixing by someone else. Of course, this is only a general explanation of how bad situations get worse, but it does explain how a contentious spirituality can work to better the world we live in. Only an "everything opposite" attitude towards this downhill intel-lectual slide will regularly bring about .intelligent and long-range solutions to the problems that beset God's people. Conversion to the Dialectical Attitude "Everything opposite" means a conversion--one that requires some-times anger but often gentleness to maintain. It means recognizing that oners interior is a battleground of two opposing kinds of movements, whose :outcome has direct manifestations in one's psychic health, one's prophetic spirit, and one's intellectual freedom. These, in turn~, have a direct .effect on:family harmony, social justice and on the broad philosophies and theories that shape out: human institutions. The conversion ought to be total,.because there is no event in our everyday lives which does not derive its meaning from how we responded to it. As Christians, we stand in a peculiar relationship to.~this conversion to a dialectical .attitude. The functional explanation givrn above, of how dis-cernment of spirits works to create a better world, could stand on its own without any~reference to Christ Jesus. This is an asset insofar as Christians can share a vision, a language, and a praxis with non-Christians--which Extremism in Ignatius of, Loyola we must certainly do if we are to tackle issues of social justice with any seriousness. Such cooperation can even be the beginning of a dialogue about ultimates in truth and goodness leading to the Good News of Christ Jesus. But a functional explanation by itself is also a liability insofar as Christians might forget to name just who it is who moves the soul to face the truth and do one's true best. So it seems incumbent upon theologians and catechists to express the age-old doctrine of redemption in Christ Jesus and the Spirit in functional categories drawn from the dynamic~ of con-sciousness and the workings of history. This is a large order, but fortu-nately one already, being taken up by many today. A final word of caution: Such an "everything opposite" attitude is not learned overnight. It takes time to name which inner experiences corres-pond to "intending the truth" and which to wishful thinking; which to "inte,,nding the good" and which to securing the merely comfortable for ourselves. And we learn by our mistakes. But Without the slightest exag-geration we can say that in this matter there should be no compromise. Only an extremism about our inner movements can give us the day-to-day balanced judgment and love that redeem the world. ~ NO~ES ~ General Examen. This document was written by Ignatius for the purpose of teaching candidates for the Society, of Jesus what Jesuit life Would require. It was meant to be given:in a retreat setting, requiring some serious meditation. See George E. Ganss, ed., The Constitutions of the ~Society of Jesus (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970) pp. 75-118. My references above refer to paragraph numbers. 2Spiritual Exercises. See Louis 3. Puhl, ed., The Spiritual~Exercises of St. Ignatius (Wes.tminister, MD: The Newman Press, 1959), References are to paragraph numbers. 3Joseph de Guibert, The Jesuits: Their St~iritual Doctrine and Practice (Chicago: Loyola UniverSity Press; St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1964) p. 141. The Spirit of Holiness Living in Us E. A. Ruch, 0 M.L Father Ruch teaches philosophy, at the National University of Lesotho (P.O. Roma 180; Southern Africa). He has just completed a study leave in France. Spiritual theology distinguishes three stages in our progress towards holiness: The purgative (cleaning) stage which consists essentially in a breaking-away from sin, not merely out of fear of divine punish-ment, but out of a God-given awareness of God's love for us; The illuminative stage in which we grow in a personal understanding of who God is, an awareness which always culminates in the realiza-tion that "God is love"; The unitivestage which is a personal love-response to God's love for us and thus a gradual transformation of ourselves into true children of God sharing in his divine nature. Holiness is infinitely more than just being a good man, someone who meticulously obeys the law of God. We live in a redeemed world, a world already reconciled with God, but in which we are called to "become the goodness of God" (2 Co 5:21). This is why the standards of holiness which Christ sets us are much higher than those of "the Scribes and the Pharisees" (see Mt 5:20-47). Jesu~ has come to complete the law, to raise it io a level which we cannot attain by our human strength. Indeed, he expects us to be "perfect as (our) heavenly Father is perfect" (Mt 5:48). He wants us to become "fully developed, complete, with nothing missing" (Jm 1:4). He wants us to "be holy in all [we] do, since it is the Holy One who has called [us], and Scripture says: be holy, for I am holy" (I P 1:IS). We must not, therefore, confuse a high standard of moral purity with holiness. Moral purity is only the starting poittl on our way to holiness. The Spirit of Holiness / 357 Beyond our human struggle for justice and goodness, there is a gift from God which transcends all human limits. Let me try to exploin this by means of a parable. Let us suppose a diver who, having stripped off his everyday clothing, is preparing tb plunge into the pool. Undressing does not make a diver. It is only when he has left terra firma and confided himself tothe new element, viz. water, that his life as a diver begins; for it is only a beginning. Let us now follow the diver's experience under water. He begins to discover the marvels of the underwater flora and fauna: a truly new world opens: to him. True, he also begins to discover the dangers of this life, but the beauties he discovers are more than a match for the risks incurred. More and more he finds pleasure in diving and in exploring this new world. And yet, every once in a while he has to return to dry land to refill his compressed air cylinders and to take a rest in his own, more familiar world. Let us now imagine such a diver being gradually transformed into an "aquatic animal," i,e, into a kind of new man, capable of living, breathing and working under water in perfect ease, not even wishing to return to his formerly familiar, yet highly toxic atmosphere of nitrogen, oxygen and carbon dioxide. Life under water has become a "second nature": it is now his "real" life and his original one would be considered as "abnormal." He is now a new creature "fully developed, complete, with nothing missing" who no longer wants to leave his newly acquired mode of existence, and who finds "life outside" meaningless, boring, heavy and poisonous. He now "lives and moves and has his being" in God. He has "become like him, because he sees him as he really is" (1 Jn 3:2). We have here a neat image of growth in holiness. First of all, God, through his Spirit living in me, prompts me, urges me to "take the plunge" and to be '~baptized in the Spirit." He then begins the long process of revealing the beauties and risks of life in and with God. Finally he initiates that transformation into his own life which will only be completed in eternal beatitude, but which is already partially shared through faith in the joy of discovering the life of God in us. I would now like to show the role of the Holy Spirit in these three stages. The Purification When John the Baptist preached the metanoia; q.e. the "turning-around," the "about-face" which is required in our sinful life, he strength-ened his preaching with the effective symbol of immersion into the water of the Jordan as a sign of personal cleansing. But John also knows that he cannot achieve more than mere moral purity. He is still a man of the Old ~1511/ Review for Religious; May-June, 1986 Testament ("The least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he is" (Mt 11:11))~ We are called to much more than moral purity and John proclaims his role as Precursor of the one who will baptize "with the Holy~Spirit and withfire" (Mt 3:11). The symbol of fire a~ an element of purification is well known throughout the Scriptures: More effectively than water, because it goes to the hearvof the matter and not only to its surface, fire cleanses from within. It burns away the impurities as one,burns the chaff after winnowing (Mt 3:11-12).~ .~ Fire as a ~ymbol of the Holy Spirit is, of course, well known from the Pentecost event and the "tongues of fire." Another purifying force in spiritual life is the loneline.ss, suffering and silence of,the "desert experience." Like the people of Israel who have to be purified of their Egyptian habits through their forty years of wandering through the desert, so also Jesus himself was "led by the Spirit out into the wilderness to-be tempted by the devil" (Mr 4::1; Mk 1:12 and ~Lk 4:1). The Spirit will invite us too from time to time to retire into solitude and silence, because this is the precondition for hearing the voice of God which would become inaudible in. the hustle and bustle of our daily, life in our,~nervous and tension-filled world. And just as fire is painful when it burns away impurities, so ~the solitude of the desert is frightening. St. Teresa of Avila insists very strongly on the importance of "the grace of quiet" for spiritual life (Way of Perfection, ch. 33). St.John also points at another necessary purification: to bring the desires of the flesh under th~ control of the spirit: Unless ~ man is borfi through water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of heaven. What is born of the flesh is flesh; what is born of the ,.Spirit is spirit (Jn 3:5-6). Thus purification is part of a p(~ocess of acq~iiring a new life (see v. 3). "l:he real life is not the one given by the flesh; only'"the Spirit. gives life" (J~n 6:63). Above all, purification from sin is a condition for receiving the gift of ¯ theo~Holy Spirit. Therefore Peter announces to the people at Pentecost: You must repent .and everyone of you must be baptized in the name of Jesus 'Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit (Ac 2:38). In reverse, the Holy Spirit is specifically given to the Apostles to,enable them to forgive sins: Receive~the Holy Spirit. For those whose sins you forgive they are for-given; ofor those whose sins you retain, they are retained (Jn 20:22). ~' We are fighting a running battle against the forces of evil. We are the The Spirit of Holiness / 359 accused in an endless courtcase in which Satan is "the accuser of'our brethren., who accuses them day and night before God"(Rv 12:10). But this a~:cuser has been "thrown down" (ibid) by the Holy Spirit who is our Advocate. Because the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of Truth while the devil is the "spirit of disorder" ( I Jn 4:6) and of "falsehooi:l ~ind murder" (Jn 8:44).~ In our fight with the spirit of evil who tries to turn us away from God. the Advocate "will be with you forever, he will be continually at your. side. he will be m you" (Jn 14:17). ~hus the Holy Spirit appears also as the one who sustains us in our temptations, who provides us with arguments to beat the devil. Even when we fire facing evil earthly powers, we need have no worry, because "ttib Spirit of your Father will be speakir~g in you" (Mt 10:!8-20). Like a good advocate he will prove the "opposition" wrong(see Jn 1~:9-11), by convict-ing the world ofits sinfulness and consequently of the fact that without Christ's victory the world is meaningless and lacks all ultimate purpose. In his epistle to the Romans St. Paulexplains this purifyi~ng role of the Holy Spirit by stating that the Hrly Spirit takes people who are living by "the law of sin and death" which is characterized by "the misdeeds of the body" (Rm 8:1, 13)and he makes them "spiritual": Your ~nterests. however, are not in the unspiritual, but in the spiritual. since the Spirit of God has made his home in you. In 'fact. unless you possessed the Spirit of Christ you would not belong to hire. Tl~ough your ¯ body may be dead it is because of sin; but if Christ is in you, then your spirit is life itself because you have been justified: and if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, then he who raised Jesus from the dead will give life to your own mortal bodies through his Spirit living in you (Rm 8:9-10). The Spirit does not only transform our soul and cleanse our mental habits our thoughts, our feelings, our emotions he also "spiritualizes" our bodies to prepare them for the resurrection. Our bodies became mortal "because of sin"; the cleansing from sin through Christ's "Spirit living in us" is the cause of our immortality.~ What are the spiritual transformations which the Spirit operates in our souls? St. Paul opposes the spirituality and holiness of the Old Testament and that brought about by Christ's Spirit living in us. The Spirit transforms our "spirit of slaves" livingin fear, into a "spirit of.sons" who have been "set free"(Rm 8:14-23; see 1 Jn 4:17-18). It is a new attitude with regard to the law that takes hold of us: we do right not because_ we are afraid, but because we love. On the other hand, and for the same reason, i.e. love, this freedom is never licentiousness, because we are living in the Spirit: If you are guided by the Spirit you will be in no danger of yielding to 360 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 self-indulgence, since self-indulgence is the opposite of the Spirit . . (Ga 5:16). In other words: the presence of the Spirit in us does not justify bad behav-ior, but should enable us to avoid bad behavior. Hence also Paul's claim to the Corinthians that no on~ can curse Jesus and be in the Spirit of Jesus (1 Co 12:3). Paul's whole apostolic life was dominated by his struggle to make the new converts realize this new dimension brought about by faith in Christ: an externally imposed Law is replaced by the promptings of the Spirit from within (see Ezk 36:26-27; Jr 31:33). The true Christian is doing good because the Spirit moves him from within his very freedom. Even our faith in the Gospel is the work of the Spirit and it is this faith, rather than outward observances that justify us (Ga 3:2). It is a pagan (or an Old Testament) attitude to do good or to refrain from doing evil out of fear of hell, or in order to curry God's "favors," rather than out of inner convic-tions growihg out of love. A Christian attitude stems from the Spirit within us and from our readiness to let the Spirit become active and effective in us and through us. Since the Spirit is our life. let us be directed by the Spirit. We must stop being conceited,, provocative and envious. (Ga 5:25). The Spirit which he sent to live in us wants us for himself alone (Jm 4:5); (literally: 'The Spirit. yearns, earnestly for our love'). No one who has been begotten by God sins: because God's seed remains inside him. he cannot sin when he has been begotten by God (1 Jn 3:9).2 But God will not sanctify us without us. It is from within our freedom that God acts and lives in us. We must collaborate with his promptings, for God has an infinite respect for our free will. Nor is it sufficient to have received, the Holy Spirit once and for all, like some kind of seal, medal or honorific title. He has to live in us. We have to grow in him by letting his influence in our lives become more and more continuous and pervasive. It is precisely this growth which supposes an inner cleansing. We cannot serve two master~; at the same time: one must diminish if the other is to grow. As long as our life is cluttered with worries, with sins, with ourselves, with the world, with pleasures and so forth, there is little room for God to grow in us. He is not going to sneak into our life, as we gradually clean out the house just ahead of him. We have to make a clean sweep before God arrives. But we are afraid of the apparent spiritual poverty, of the empti-ness, of the echoing hollowness within us. The Spirit gives us the courage to empty ourselves (see Ph 2:7) so.that we might experience God making irruption into our life. The blood of Christ, who offered himself as the perfect sacrifice to God The. Spirit of Holiness / 361 through the eternal Spirit, can purify our inner self from dead actions so that we do our service to the living God (Heb 9:14). In short: the first level of the Spirit's action demands, but also produ-ces an inner cleansing, a reorientation of our lives, an openness to the guidance of the Spirit and a readiness to be transformed. Without this there simply cannot be any.growth in spiritual life, because without it we are not capable of putting ourselves into a listening attitude towards God, and without_ this listening attitude there will not be that inner enlighten-. ment whereby God wants to make' himself personallY known to us. Enlightenment and Learning Si. John presents us the Holy Spirit as the'Spirit of truth: "I shall ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate3 to be with you forever, the Spirit of truth whom the world cannot receive since it neither sees nor knows him; but you know him, becauSe he is with yo.u, he is in you. [he] will teach you everything and remind you of all 1 have said to you" (Jn 14:15-16, 26). This theme of the "world" which cannot see God ,recurs often in John. The world is blind to God because it is too much concerned with other, rela, tively unimportant things. The Word of God is the true light which many people refused to receive (Jn 1:9-13). But there are also those whb, throughout the history of salvation, have let themselves be enlightened by the Spirit of God. The Holy Spirit inspired the prophets (see Lk 1:67; Ac 21:4; 28:25;.) and the writers of Scripture. He guides the lives of those he inhabits (see Lk 2:25-26) and he leads Jesus himself through his ministry (Lk 4:14, 18)oand makes him,utter prophetic words (Lk 10:21). Indeed it is the Spirit who, in the form of a dove, points at the Messiah as the voice of the Father is heard at.Jesus' baptism (Mt 3:16-17; Mk 2:10; Lk 3:21-22i Jn 1:32-34; ~1 Tm 3:16). It is by the Holy Spirit that Jesus performs his m.iracles (Mt 12:28). In short: the Holy Spirit makes us become aware of Jesus,as the Messiah and of his redemptive role. This is why the Gospels are so 6utspoken against those who "sin against the Holy Spirit" (Mt 12:32; Mk 3:28; Lk 12:10) because this sin blinds us to the revealing and illuminating role of the Holy Spirit without which we cannot reach God nor pr.ogress in holiness. ("No one can say 'Jesus is Lord' except by the Holy Spirit" 1 Co 12:3). In other words, the sin against the Holy Spirit makes God's essential work in our life, viz. our sanctification, impotent. Jesus has proclaimed the Good News to us: he is the Good News, but we are incapable of fully grasping what this means unless the .Spirit opens our eyes: It is for your own good that I am going, because unless I go, the Advocate 369/ Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 will not come t6 you; l~tit if I do go, I will send him to you . I still have many things to say to you, but they would be too' mucfi for you now. But " when'~the Spirit of trt~th comes he will leadyou to the complete truth, since he will not be speaking as from himselfbut will only say what he has learnt . Jn 16:7-15 (passim). ~ " ~- We clearly see the effect of the Spirit on the apostles at the moment of the Pentecost event!~ Now, the coming of the Holy Spiritdoes not imply the revelation of neff doctrines, but the creation of an inner receptivity and capacity for underst~hding the Good N~ws of Christ in a more personal way:. You have been anointed by the Holy One, and have all recei'bed the knowledge'., you do not need anyone to teach you; the anoiming he gave you teaches you everything; you are anointed with truth, not with a lie. (1 Jn 2:20, 27). Thus the Holy Spirit generates faith, the ability to listen and to hear, in us and she convicts the "world" of its basicsin of unbelief (see Jn 8:21, 24, 26; 15:22). In reverse he convinces the believers of Christ's divinity (see Jn 10:33; 19:7) because l~y returning to the Father in his human bo.dy, Jesus shows that his true home is in heaven (see .In 13~ 1; 20:17). Finally the Spirit gives to the believer the unshakable confidence in the power of God who has overcome the empire 6f evil. Thus, by revealing the glory of Christ and enabliiig us to b~elieve in Christ, he makes us listen to him who reveals to us the glory of the Father. The Acts of the Apostles have been called the "Gospel of the Holy spirit." They are full of incidents in which the Spirit illuminates the minds and heart~of~the apostles and of the believers. Let us me~'ely'mention a few of them almost at random. He gives to the believers the gift of speech in foreign tohgues (Ac 2:4), he inspires the words of the apostles (Ac 4:8.31), he gives Stephen an, irresistible power of argumentation against his detrac-tors (Ac 6:10) as Jesus himself had predicted (Mk 13:11; Lk 12:H-12). On several occasions the Spirit gives people the ability of predicting the future (Ac 21i,~; 11:28); he guides the decisions of the Church in admitting pagans (Ac-8:29, 40; ~10:19, 44-47; 11:12-16; 15:8),'in limiting the relevance of the Jewish laff (Ac 15:28) and in determining the mission of Paul to the pagans (Ac 13:2 sq; 16:6-7; 19:1). Occasionally he gives very precise g~uidelines for th~ apostolate (Ac 8:28). But ~bove all the Holy Spirit reveals himself internally to those who receive him, usually in baptism, by giving them the power of praising God in words-inspired by God himself [the gift of tongues](see Rm 8:26-27; Ac 9:31; 10:44; 19:1-7.). Indeed one could say that the Holy Spirit was clearly the power behind the expansion of the ~early Church. The Spirit of Holiness / 363 This power is usually revealed and released in a prayerful atmosphere. Throughout Acts, one gets the impression of a people moving about in an inner spiritual dynamism, open to God, ready to expect any kind of mira-cles. Of course they are_ ordinary human beings like you and me. They sometimes become almost obsessively enthusiastic (like the Corinthians), while others (like the Gala~tians) remain fearfully attached to traditions. In this they do not differ all that much from the Churchof today! But there does seem to be a genuine desire throughout the early Church to let the Spirit rule the life of the faithful. St. Paul himself tells us that he is not bothered by his weakness, precisely because he" knows that he can always let ttie Spirit and the power of God Speak and pray in and through him (Rm 8:26-27). He knows that he is not preaching his own ideas nor by his own power, but by the power of God (1 CO 2:3) and that "the Spirit reaches the' depth of evet:ything, even the depth of God" (1 Co 2:10). This is why he chides Timothy for his timidity: God's gilt was not a spirit of timidity, but the Spirit of power, and love. and self-control (2 Tm 1:7).~ And~just as the Spirit give~'to the preacher the words to preach, to the prophet the message to proclaim and to the teacher the doctrine to teach, so also he gives to the listeners the inner .power to understand with heart and mind, and the wisdom to apply what has been taught in their personal life: May the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of ~lory, g~ve you a spirit of wisdom and perception of what is revealed, to bring you to full knowledge of him (Ep 1:17,). Out of his infinite glory, may he give'you the power through his Spii'it for your hidden self to grow strong, so that Christ .may live in you through faith, and then, planted in love and built on love. you will with all the saints have strength to grasp the breadth and the length, the height and the depth . (Ep 3:16-19). By thus gradually growing, in God's wisdom, we will be filled with the '~utter fullness of Ggd" (ibid v. l~J). ,, But God ca~ only fill us with his wisdom, !f we have let ourselves be emptied of the wisdom of the "~orld." Hence,the purification stage.must precede and will itself grow in _proportion to the gradual~growth in "enlightenment." We can only grow "little by little" (Ws 12: !-2). Secondly we mus~ play our fa,irt by taking a humble, listening and receptive attitude in sile~ace ~nd. patience. And thirdly, the Holy Spir!t comes to each one of us personally, but always within the context of and for the sake of the whole Church, the Body of Christ (see 1 Co 14), because "God is Love" and v~hatever he does in us and through us,~in on13~ take place within a 364 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 love-relationship, This is why love is the greatest commandment, but also the greatest of all gifts of the Spirit: the gift which not only includes all others, but also the only one which is to remain forever (1 Co 13). We 'do not receive the Holy Spirit for our exclusive personal enjoyment, but for sharing him with others through apostolic action. As Jesus says to his apostles: You will r~ceive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you, and t~en you will be my'witnesses (Ac 1:8). More than half the passages in the Acts which speak about the Holy Spirit mention him in a directly apostolic context. This is also why the Holy Spirit is presented in such an intimate relationship with the Church that Peter can say: "It has been decided by the Holy Spirit and by ourselves." (Ac 13:28), while the Book of Revelation affirms: "The Spirit and the Bride [= the Church] say: 'Come'"-(Rv 22:17). A final point worth mentioning in the present context: If it is true that the illumination by the Spirit is proportional to our emptying ourselves of our own ideas, then it is easily understandable why the poor in spii-it are given preference in the kingdom of heaven (Mt 5:3),~ why "these things" have been hidden frrm the worldly wise and revealed to children (Mt 11:25) and why only children can enter the kingdom of heaven (Mt 18: !-4). Union in Love The Christian religion is not merely an ethics, i.e. a list of actions to be done or avoided. Jesus' struggle with the Pharisees (see Mt 5:17 sq and 23:13-32), as well as St. Paul's arguments to show the powerlessness of the Law to save us (e:g. Rm I-7) are proof enough of this. Nor is Christianity merely a beautiful doctrine dogmatically proclaimed a~d faithfully but blindly accepted: If I knew all the mysteries and all science, and if I had the fullness of faith. but without love, lam nothing (! Co 13:2). God wants to call us to a new life. I~e wants to change our identity from within, not merely our mode of external behavior. He wants us to be reborn "through water and the'Spirit'' (Jn 3:5) so as to enable us to enter into the kingdom of heaven. It is through the Spirit of Goal that this "rebirth" as children of God takes place: The Spirit himself and our spirit bear united witness that we are children of God. And if we are children we are heirs as well: heirs of God and coheirs with Christ, sharing his 'suffering so as to share in his glory (Rm 8:!4-17; see Ga 4:6~7). The Spirit is our passport for our new. "ciiizenship," because we have been The Spirit of Holiness / 365 stamped with the seal of the Holy Spirit of the promise, the pledge of our inheritance which brings freedom to those whom God has taken for his own to make his glory praised (Ep 1:13-14). Of course in this life we still know God only "dimly, as in a mirror" (1 Co 13:12), and yet e~,en in this limited way, God already reveals himself to us from within, from his presence in us through the Spirit: We know that he lives in us by the Spirit that he has given us (! Jn 3:24). We can know that we are li~ing in him and he is living in us, because he lets us share his Spirit (! .In 4:13). The Spirit is .an" experienced reality. Even the places and buildings where the early Church was gathering "were shaken" when they were "filled with the Holy Spirit" (Ac 4:3 I) and the Holy Spirit is often described as "falling on" people (Ac 10:44; 11:15). It is like falling in love: it is an experience difficult to explain to someone who has never experienced it. The kingdom of God is therefore not merely something to be expected in the life to come. We are already living in this kingdom, which can be identified with equal right with the Holy Spirit and with the Church, provided the Church is not merely seen as an administrative structure. St. Paul refers to our transformation into children of God as something already realized: We were buried with [Christ] in baptism [and we]'have been raised up with him" (Col 2:12-13). However, this new reality demands, right here and now, a new mode of life: Put off your old nature which belongs to your former manner of life. and be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and put on the new nature, created after the likeness of God iri true righteousness and holiness (Ep 4:22-24). We are incorporated into the Spirit (Rm 8:1, 9. We are "temples of God"( 1 Co 3:16; 6:19). We have been 'Zraised up with Christ" (Col 3:1). It is for this reason that all "Paul's moral instructions are so severe. Moral instructions and calls to holiness are one and the same for Paul, and they center, as .one can expect, on the two commandments of love of God and~ love of neighbor. Because of the Spirit dwelling in us, we are able to love God and to love our neighbor with the same kind of love with which God himself loves us: The love of God is poured out into our hearts by the Holy Spirit who is given to us (Rm 5:5). The first thing that changes in our new, Spirit-filled life, is our relation- ~166 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1986 ship with God in prayer: The book of Genesis tells u.s .of Enoch~ who was livinga life of such 'intimacy with God that he was absorbed into God, that he vanished in him (Gn 5:24). The original familiarity with God as des-cribed in paradise is re,stored. We learn to relate to God truly a~ our Father because ,"God has Se.nt the Spirit of hi~ Son into our hearts crying 'A~bba! Father!'" (Ga 4:6; .see Rm 8:26). Our ~vorship is no longer tied to places, times, rituals, and'words, but becomes "worship in0 spirit a.n~d in truth (b~ecause) God is °soirit" (Jn 4:24). Above' all, our worship ~s no longer dominated by fear because ° love will come ~o perfection in us when we can face the day of judgment without fear; because eVen in this worm we have 'become as he is. In love ~there is no fear', but fear is driven out by perfect love" (1 J'n 4:17-18; she "~ Rm 8~21~29)~ So to pray in the Spirit of God (see Ep 6:18) means to pray in an attitude of fearless love: God is love and anyone who lives in love lives in God and God lives in him (l Jn 4:16).~ This means thaLGod lives in us-and we live in him, but also that as a result weare transformed into God's essentially loving nature. This transforma, tion will not only reveal itself in our relationship with God, but also in our relationship with our fellowman. We are living a lie if we claim to love God, to be a child of God, while not loving our neighbor: We can ,be sure that we are in God only when the one who claims to be living in him is living the same kind of life as Christ lived (1 Jn 2:5-6). Now God's love for us was revealed when God sent into ,the world his' only Son so that we could have life through him . Since God loved us' so much~ we, too should love one another . As long as we love one another, God will live in us ~'nd h~s love will be complete in us. (I Jn 4:10-12). This whole,newdoving relationship is planted inu~ by the Holy Spirit living in us and e.nabling us to grow in him and thus to become more and more ,like Christ whose .Spirii he is. ¯ If we live by the truth .and in love, we shall "grow in all ways into- Christ ~, who is the head by whom:the whole body is fitted and joined together. "~ So the body grows until it has built itself up in love (Ep 4:15-16):~ . This body,,building itself up and. growing in love, is the Church. This is also why the gifts and charisms are to be used for "the common good" (see 1 Co 12:7; 14:3r4, 26) and are of no account without the cha,rity which~gives The Spirit of Holiness / 367 them meaning (1 Co 13). Jesus wanted us to be perfect "as our heavenly Father is perfect" (Mt 5:48) and he summarizes the whole Law and the Prophets in the commandments of love (Mt 22:40). Our growth in perfec, tion can therefore only be a growth in this twofold, love and this growth is essentially God's work because we have been chosen by the prox)ident purpose of God the Father to be made holy by the Spirit, obedient to Jesus Christ and sprinkled by his blood (I P 1:2). The lives of the Saints are beautiful illustrations of this powerful and effective dwelling of the Holy Spirit in the soul. In all their differences, they have struggled through these three stages of growth in holiness. Some have put more emphasis, on their sinfulness and on the need for inner purifica-tion; others have spent most of their life trying to penetrate deeper and deeper into the knowledge of the mysteries of God, not only with their intellect but with their heart and their whole being: All have been led towards a life of intimate

Issue 44.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1985. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, M O 63108-3393. REvlEw FOR RELIGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1985 by REVlEW FOR R ELIG~OU~ 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 REVIEW FOR REt,tGtOUg P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor May/June, 1985 Volume 44 Number 3 Manuscripls. books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent Io REVIEW F'OR RELtGIOUS; 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 REVtEW t'OR RELt~tOUS; 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. The Charism of Peter at the .Service Of Unity In an ex.change.of Ch~stmas gceetlngs with his "b~:other~ and collaborators" of the Roman Curia, Pope John opaul II reflected at length about the Church and about his niinistry in the Church. The text is based upon the translation of L'Osservatore Romano, 21 January, 1985, pp. 6ft. Dominiasprope est (The Lord is n~arl Ph-4:5). The celebration of Christmas, now fit hand, h~is brought us together once again for this fine custom of exchangin~g good wishes.'.~With minds filled With gratitude we ~repare to kneel before the crib along with the sh'epherdg during this Holy Night, near which the '~Vir~in Mother," proclaimed by'the prophet Isaiah ('Is 7:14), keeps watch with ~ageraffe~ction. 'We knowthat in this fragile Infant still unable to ~peak thei-e comes to me~ us the Etet:nal Word'of'God, ttie uncreated Wisdom Who rulesthe univd~se. He is the Light of God who "shines in darkness," as the Apostle Jdhffsays--adding'immediately with bitter realism: "But the dark-ness did not accept it." L~ght and darkness confront each Other before the manger in which that Infant lies: the.light of truthaffd the darkness of error.°It is a confrontation which does not admit of neutrality. Each one must ChoOse which side to take. It is a choice in which each stakes his 6r her future. The Infant of the Crib, become an adult, will one day say: "If~ou live according to my teaching, you are t~rul~ my disciples; then you willkhow the trfttl, and the trtith will set you free" (Jn 8:31 ff.). ~ ' ~ " The Woi'd of God, in becoming flesh in order to fiaak'e his dwelling among us (see Jn 1:14), comes to bring us the inestimable gift of the knbwledge of the truth: the truth about him,~nd the tr~iii~abotit us and about our transcendent ,destiny. Man cannot.build up himself or his free~io~n~ except on the foundation of this truth. It is therefore a~ exir~meiy'precious girl, one to be safeguarded 321 322 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1985 and defended. The loss of even a part 0f that integral truth beating in the heart of the Infant "wrapped in swaddling clothes" in the manger would mean that man puts at risk the full realization of himself to a greater or lesser degree. The Church, knowing herself to be the depository and guardian of this truth, is aware of this. She therefore feels invested with a special mission, one which makes her the duty-bound subject of a special service to humankind. To each generation newly arrived to inhabit the earth must she reveal the marvelous plan that God has prepared in his only Son, a plan which will benefit every. child of man who is willing to accept in faith the wonderful initiative of God's love. For this reason the Church, and in her especially the Roman See of Peter, keeps watch at the cradle of Bethlehem. She keeps watch so that these trans-cendent values which the Creator has offered to humankind--truth and free-dom in truth, which is to say love--may not be obscured, much less distorted. She keeps Watch so that, despite all opposing currents, these values may be constantly revivified and be ever more affirmed in the lives of individuals and of families in both the Christian and civil communities and thus in the life of the entire human family. The Church has both a complex and.~unified,awareness of thes~e valpes, as has been emphasized in a well-known passage of the Dogmatic Constitution Lumen Gentium, the twentieth anni~,ersary of which occurred just a month ago (November 21). Paragraph 13 of this fundamental conciliar document recalls the Church's attitude with regard to "the abilities, the resources and customs" proper to the variety of peoples. The Church sees in them "gifts" which the various cultures bring to h~er, and she is therefore happy to take them to herself, even though she is committed to purify, strengthen and elevate them. In p~a. rticular, for the sake of that character of uniyersality, which adorns and distinguishes her, the Church is mindful that she must harmonize these "gifts," bringing them into a higher unity :so that they may cOntribute to the progressive affirn~, afion of the one kingdom of Chi'ist. And hence it is that "in virtue of this catholicity each individual part contributes through its special gifts to the good of the other parts and of the whole Church. Through the common sharing,of gifts and through the common¯ effort to attain fullness., in ~unity, the whole'and each of the pa~s receive increase." . o There is more. Continuing along this line of.thought, the text pres~ents a ¯ fundamental thesis of Catholic ecclesiology. It p.oints out that '.'within the Church particular churches hold a rightful place; these chhrches ream their own traditions, without in any way,.0pposing the primacy of the~Chair of Peter, which presides over the whole assembly of charity and protects~ legitimate differences, while at the same time assuring that such differen~s do .not hinder unity but rather contribute toward it." It would be difficult to expre~ss tills any, more cl~ariy c~r profou'ndly: the universal Church is present~ed ~s a ~ o.mmunion of (p~articular) chu~rches and indirectly as a communion of nations, languages and cultures. Each of these. The Charism of Peter at the Service of ~]nity / 393 churches: brings°its own "gifts" to the whole, just as individual scientific and'~ socihl conquests, as also'the goals of civilization as these are gradually achi, eved, all. make their contribution. Pluralism in the ChurCh So m~h emphasis is given today to ttie "special" Christian experiences of particular church~s in the socio-cultural context in which ehch of them is called to live. These specific experiences--it is stressed---con~rn the Word of God as this is to be .read and understood in the light of the data which emerges from one's existential jofirney. They concerti liturgicalfprayer, which must draw from the c~ltfire to which belong the s*gns, acuop~s and words used m adora-uon, worsh|p and celebrat|on. These experiences concern the theological reflectmn which~ m .turn must have an influence on categories of thought typical' of each ~ulture. And Anally the~ special experience~ concern.~ecclesi~ii' communion itself, which is rooted in the Eucharist, but whose concrete devel-opme~ n~t ~lepend~ on ihe historico-t~nporal condiii6ns which derive from it~ insertion into~the ambience oi" a particular country or of a specific region bf.the world. These are. int~erestmg pei'spectives" because 9f ihe lines of theologicai inves-tigation ,which they seem to open regarding the unfathomable mystery ?f the Cil~urch, ahdeven more because of the possibilities they offer to the°faithful to p~'r~ivg~nd to own ever more fully ihe immense ~ch~s of the new life broughi~ by Christ. ~ But these_ ar~e perspectives which, in order tc~i be fruitful, presume respect for affinescapable Condition: Such ekperiences must not be li~,ed separatei~ or independently of, much less in oppositton to experiences hved by churches ~n oiher par~s of~the world. In order to be constituted as authentic experiences of Church,~(hese entail the necessity of being in har~mony with those ~,hich othe~ Christian~ intouch with other cultural contex(s fe~l called to live in order to be faithful to the requirements which flow fromthe one identical mystery of Ch~s~. This affirmation touches a central°point of Catholic ecclesiology and bears rgeapl"e atetinrd~egn. c~i'eos ~insd cuolgnetr ainrY " itsoo l,tahtieo encisc{le's(o~roileongtya tOi0fn st'h, eb rS eecvoennd t oV faat~,coarn " cCepnutrnicfud-.' In, its paragraph 13, cited above, Lumen G~ntium stresses the possibilities. inherent in a wholesome pluralism. However, it also very clearly, specifies' its limits. True pluraligm is never a divisive factor, but an element whichcontrib-_o ute~ to the building up of unity Within the universal commur~ion of the Church. Communion of Minds, Communion of Hearts - In fact, there exists among individual particular churches an ontological relationship of mutual inclusion. Each particular church, as the realization of~ the ore Church of Christ, is in some way present in all the particular churches "in and from which churches comes into being the one and ohly Catholic 324/ Review for Religious, May-June, 1985 Church" (LG 23).~ This ontological relationship must be carried over onto the dynamic level of its concrete life, if the Christian community does not want to enter into contradiction with itself. The basic ecclesial choices of the faithful of a community must be able to harmonize with the choices of the faithful of other communities so as to give rise to that communion of minds and hearts for which Christ prayed at the last Supper: ~. as you, Father. are i~h me, and I in you~' ! pray tti~they may be [one] in us . tha~t their unity may be compli~te" (Jn 17:21, 23). A particular task bf the Apostolic She consists precisely in serving thik universalunity. Indeed, it'is here that the ~specific office and, we may even say, the charism 6f Peter and his successors lie. Was it not to him that Christ said before the dark night of betrayal: "I have pray6d for you that your faith may never fail. LYou in turn must strengthen, your brothers" (Lk 22:32)? lnd~ed he is the "~ock" on whichChrist willed~to build his Church (see Mt 16:18). It is precisely°fi:o~m the foundation' that the iniegrated si"rength of the efitire edifice is expected. For" this reason, in a dialogue charged with pathos' ,.afte~ the ~esu,rrection, Jestis left to Peter the demanding responsibility: "Feed my lambs . feed my sheep" (Jn 21:15ff). Certainly, the one Supreme Shepherd is the Incarnate Word, Christ the Lord~ And so, with spontaneous fervor the pope'makes h~s own,the words of St. August.ine: "Vobis pastores'sumus, sed sub illo Pastore vobiscum Oves sumus. . . Vobis ex hoc loco doctores sum'us, sed sub ill un'o Magistro.in hac schOla vobiscum condiscipuli surnus" (For you we are shepherds,"biat, unde/ that Sheph,erd, with you we are sheep . For you., we are teachers, but, under that ofie Master . with you we are fellow disciples Enarr in Ps 126:3). This i:10es not eliminate the fact, however, that in the Church each has his own specific .task for which he must one day answer to'Christ. Over the centurie~ the popes have deeply'felt their responsibility for the s'ervice to Catholic bn~ty that was entrusted to them'~i and have soughtto: provide" ~ ford:it in many ways~as by surrounding themselves ,with experienced collfiboratot~"the better to meet the multiform responsibilities of their office. ° Recently, in response to suggestions from the.Conciliar Assembly, we gave exPr,ession to the desire to "internationalize" the Curia, so that'th~ presence of offici~als coming from various parts of the world might'facilitate dialogue with churches living on various co'fiiinents. This morning 1 have the pleasure of meeting with a select representation of the organizafioffg into which the Roman Curia is divided. I gladly welcome the opportunity, beloved brothers in'(~hrist2 to e~press my appreciation to you and to thank you'fo~:'ih~ cOmpe~t~int collaboration which you so generously offer me in the daily fulfillment of the duties inherent in my ministry. The Ministry of Peter . ~ With me you live that "anxiety~for all the churches" which constituted the t'daily tensiofi" of the Apostle Paul (see 2 Co 11:28). This constitutes the daily The Charism of Peter at the Service of Unity /325 tension of every,pope. ~Indeed, it is ~for the Successors of Peter to ensure the convergence towardg the center of th~ Church ofthose many "giffs" to which allusion was made in the conciliar texts we cited. And again it is for them to make provision for those;same gifts to flow outward to the various members of :Christ's Mystical Body, carrying to them new impulses of fervor and of life. There are ordinary means for addressing this apostolic task, among these being ad limina visits. Thus, during.the, present year I have had the pleasure to receive the episcopal conferences of Costa Rica, Oceania, El Salvador, Taiwan, Togo, Lesotho, Peru, Greece, Sri Lanka, Venezuela, Argentina, Chile, Guinea, Ecuador, the AntilleS, B_o!iyia a.nd Paraguay. ' There are also extraordinary means, among which the pope's visits and pilgrimages to .particular churches on the various continents are proving espe-cially effective. Still keen in my mind i~ the pleasant memory of my apostolic journey at the beginning of May to Korea, Papua New Guinea, the Solomon , Islands and Thailand to share the concerns and hopes of the young and promising churches of those lands. Also of significance was the journey during" the month of June which took me to Switzerland and enabled me to strengthen~ the bonds of communion between the See of Rome and the noblechurches of that:nation. Also unforgettable are;the emotions I experienced during my journey :to Canada, when I encountered both those who live their faith in the heart of.a highly evolved ~society and with those who received the gospel message in the context of ancient native Civilizations. Important finally, even if rapid, was the journey in mid-October when, after touching Spain, I reached Santo Domingo, the land from which, almost five centuries ago, evangelization spread into the :New World. On that occasion, too, I was able to meet the people of .Puerto Rico. ~ It is .with joy that I also recall the pastoral visits I made during the course of the year. in Italy: to Bari, Bitonto, Viterbo, Fano, Alatri and then; at the beginning of October, to the churches of Calabria, and finally, in November,~ my pilgrimage to the places sacred to the memory of St. Charles [Borromeo], marking the fourth century of hi~ death. The Apostolic See also maintains a dense network of contacts with all the particular churches in its constant concern not to lose any "gift from above" ,(see Jm 1:17), while at the same time safeguarding the priceless treasure of the Truth of God, along with everything of permanent validity which this has caused to.germinate in the fertile soil of generations of Christians down through the centuries. Neither preconceived prejudice nor deplorable ignorance, there-fore, butconstant ~attention to,"what the Spirit says to the churches" (Rv 2:7)! And this in order "that everything which authentically comes from the Spirit may benefit the entire composite of ,Christ's Mystical Body. Teach the Faith in Its Int grity , , In the context of these reflections we must emphasize ~ also the special responsibility which the :entire episcopate has--cum Petro et sub Petro (with $26 / Review f~or Religious, May-June, 1985 Peter and under .Peter)--with regard to the "deposit~0f thefaith~" entr.usted by Christ to theChurch to be integrally eared for and faithfully taught to genera-tions of people in every age. How can we not recall, the solemn words with which Jesus took leave of the Apostles at the moment of his return to the Father'?. These constitute a precise charge: "Full authority.has been given to me both in heaven and on. earth; go, therefore, and make disciples of all the nations. Teach them to. earry out everything I.have commanded you" (Mt 28:18ff). ' Everything! Nothing of the "deposit."_ can be set aside~ tampered'with or neglected. Aware of this, the Apostle Paul addresses to his "disciple Timothy the . categorical imperative: "Depositum custodi!" (Guard what hasbeen committed to you! 1 Tm 6:20), and impresses on him: "I charge you toopreach.the word, to stay with this task whether convenient or inconvenient-~correcting,°reprov-ing,- appealing--constantly teaching.and never losing patience" (2 Tm 4:2). ° Indeed, the faithful of each historical era are exposed to the temptation ' "not to tolerate sound doctrine" and to "surround themselves with teachers who tickle their ears, refusing to listen to the truth and wandering off,to fables" (see ibid, vv. 3 ff). / Our age is also exposed to this temptation¯ An exact duty therefore falls .upon today?s~ shepherds and guides of the People of God: to defend the authenticity of gospel teaching from all that contaminates and distdrts it. Certainly we must be able to recognize and accept the "grod" that our generation is able to express in order to "purify, strengthen and elevate it." The Council reminded us of this (see LG 13). BUt we must also reject courageously whatever bears the imprint of error and sin, whatever coniains substantive threats to truth and to human morality, whatever spreads thrrugh society, ~whether by deceitful maneuver or with arrogant high-handedness, attacking the dignity of the person and the inalienable rights of individuals and of nations. ¯ The Church has the duty to keep watchAn order to defend,the integrity of the .faith and .of Catholic doctrine, warning against the deceits which seek to contaminate it. This is a specific task of hers which she cannot renounce. "Promoting~Truth Is the Duty of the Church The Holy See, for its part, carries out this duty of promoting and protecting the depositU~mfidei (deposit of faith) with the help especially of the Congrega-tion for the Doctrine of the Faith. As is known, following upon the Second Vatican Council, t.he procedures which the'Sacred Congregation fbllows in examining persoffs and writings submitted to its judgment h.ave been somewhat modified with the intention of offering every guarantee to interested persons. The protection of the truth, which is the Church's sacrosanct and indispensable duty, is not achieved by passing over in any way the dignity and rights of the person. Anyone willing to look with unbiased objectivity cannot ,but recognize, The Charism of Peter at the Service of Unity also in the context of recent events, that in its interventions this Congregation is constantly inspired by ~trict criteria of respect for the ~persons with whom it must rela~te. What can be hoped is that an equally respectful attitude,be always accorded .by those persons toward the Congregation itself when they comment, in private 6r in_ public, on its work. The same principle should apply to every member of the ,People of God, since this Congregation intends nothing other than to safeguard from danger the greatest good which the Christian possesses: the. authenticity and integrity of his faith: It is certainly of great importance that there be established within the Church a sincere and open dialogue among the various components of the Pegple of God. ~This dialogue, however, must be understood as a way to search for what is true and just, not as an ~occasion to indulge in words andattitudes scarcely compatible with an authentic spirit of dialogue. Everyone: must always keep in mind the,duty that each has with regard to truth, most of all.that truth which God has revealed and of which the Church is theL~guardian. ¯ The Option for the.Poor Before. concluding, 1 would also like to mention another 0point~whidh is especially being heard today, the "'preferential option for the poor." During the Second Vatican Council the Church has solemnly proclaimed that she.makes this option her own declaring: "[Like Christ] the Church encompasses with love all wh~ are afflicted with human suffering and in the poor and afflicted she sees the image of her ~poor and suffering Founder. She does all she can to relieve their need and in them she.strives to serve Christ" (LG 8). ¯ This ~"option,~'~. stressed so strongly by the episcopates of Latin America today, has been repeatedl); confirmed by me, following the example of my unforgettable predecessor, Pope Paul Vl. I gladly take this opportunity to repeat that the commitment to the poor constitutes a dominant theme of my pastoral activity, a0constant concern accompanying my daily Service to the,. People of God. I have madeand continue to make this "option" my own. I identify .with it. And I feel that this could not ~be otherwise, since it is the Gospel's eternal message. This is what Christ did. This is what Christ's Apostles. did. This is what the Church has done throughout her two-millennium history. In. the face of today's forms of exploiting the poor the Church cannot remain silent. She reminds the rich as well of their precise duties. Made strong with the Word. of God (see Is, 5:8; Jr 5:25-28; .lm 5:1,3-4), she condemns the many injustices which, unfor{unately, even today are committed to the detri-ment of,the poor. ., ~ Yes, the Church makes her own the preferential option for the poor. A preferential option, notg carefully. Therefore not an exclusive, or excluding option--b.ecause the mes_sage of, salvation is meant for everyone. It is an option~ furthermore, which is essentially based on the Word of God, and not on criteria offered by human science or by adverse ideologies which often reduce the poor to abstract socio-political or economic categories. 328 / RevieW for Religious, May-June, 1985 It is an option, nevertheless, which is unwav~ering and irrevocable. As I said recently in Santo Domingo: ""The pope, the Church, and her hierarchy want to continue to act on behalf of the poor, their dignity, their elevation, their rights as persons, and their aspirations to a social.justice'that can n9 longer be delayed" (L'OsservatOre Romano, EngliSh edition, November 26, 1984, p. 8). Nevertheless, the Apostolic 'See which, because of 'the special mission entrusted to it, closely shares in the experiences of the Chfirch in the various regions of (he world, knows that the forms of poverty, to which modern man is'~ subjected are manifold, and4t feels a moral obligation also in i'egard tO these other forms ,of poverty. Alongside, and, so to speak, in the face of the poverty against which the Episcopal Conferences of Medellin .and Puebla have raised their ~oices, there is also the poverty which stems from the privation of those spiritual goods to which the human person by nature has a right. Is that individual not poor who is subjected to totalitarian regimeS which deprive .him .of those fundamental freedoms in which his dignity as an intelligent and responsible person finds expression? Is that person not poor who is wounded by:otfiers in' his-0r her interior relation to truth; in his or her conscienc~e, in his or her most personal convictions, in his or her religious faith? '., " "' ' This is what I pointed out in my previous interventions, most especially in the Encyclical Redemptor Hominis (no. 17), and in the discburse delivered in 1979 before the General Assembly of the United Nations (nos.,14,20), when 1 spoke abfut the violations inflicted today in the"sphere of man's Spiritual goods. There is not only the poverty which strikes the body; there is another;and more insidious one, which strikes the conscience, yiolating the,most intimate sanctuary~of personal dignity. " In this context of the Church's authentic option for the poor must we ¯ include an event which has, aroused a great deal of int(rest this year: the p~blication of the Instruction regard, ing Certain aspects of the "Theology of Liberation.," . ,This document, contrary to some distorted interpretatiofis which have been given it, not only is not opposed to the optio~i for the poor,~ but rather constitutes an authoritative confirmation of'it, and at the same time effects a clarification and a deepening, of it. By emphasizinffthe intimate and constitutive bond whjel~i°unites freedom to truth, the Instruction defends the poor from ill.uSory and dangerous ideolog-ical proposals of liberation which, beginning with real and dramatic situations of poverty, would make of them and their sufferings only a pretext for new, and sometimes more serious opp?ession: The reduction of the Gospel message to the mere socio-political dimension robs the poor of what constitutes their shpreme right: to receiv~ from the Church the gift of the whole truth about the human person, and hbout the presence of th~ living God in human history.~ The reduction of the human being to just the political sphere, in fact, constitutes a threat not only to the dimension of his "having" but also to his ¯ The Charism of Peter at the Service of Unity / '329 "being." As the Instruction ri~ghtly affirms, the totality of the message of ":salvation alone can guarantee also the totality of human liberation (XI, 16). It is for this liberation that the Church has fought and is fighting at the side of the poor, making herself the advocate of their violated rights, the inspiration for social works of~every kind for their protection and defense, and the voice which proclaims the word of God, which summons everyone to reconciliation and penance. It is not by chance that the Apostolic Exhortation which I recently pub-lished against the background of conclusions reached by the Sixth General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops propose~ yet again the fundamental evan-gelical theme of conversion of heart, l did so ~in the conviction that the first liberation to achieve for man is liberation from the moral evil which nests in his heart, since it is there that also lies the cause of "social sin," indeed of every oppressive structure. In this commitment to human liberation from all the forms 0f poverty that frustrate the: full realization of the person, theChurch is sincerely and confi-dently open to dialogue With everyone. She declared this to be her intention by the lips of Pope John XXIIIwho constantly ~tretched outwards in the search for "what unites rather than what divides" humankind; she repeated it in the voice of Paul~ VI who dedicated his first Encyclical, Ecclesiam Suam, to this subject; finally, she confirmed it with an especially authoritative pronouncement in the Second Vatican Council which stated that "[the Church] can provide no more eloquent proof of its solidarity with, as well as its respect and love for the entire human family., than by energizin~ it in conversation" that i8 based on the dignity of the human person and on the profound significance of his activity in the world (see Gaudium et Spes, nos. 3 and 40). .The one who, in the unfathomable divine plan, sits today on the Chair of Peter confirms his own intention to contihue the way of a respectful and sincere dialogue with the modern world arid with those who can speak for it and represent it, because he relies on the possibilities for good inherent in human nature and on the renewing power of Christ's Redemption, which is at work in history. Indeed, it is my profound conviction as I said in my message for the 1983 World Day of Peace--that. 'dialogue is a central and indispensable element in the ethical philosophy of'htiman persons, whoev(i- they may be" (no. 6). In order for this dialogue to be fruitful, however, the competencies of other parties must not be infringed upon, and the Church herself, "by reason of her role and competence, must in no way be confused with the political commu-nity, nor bound to any political system," and precisely for this reason does she remain "the sign and the safeguard of the transcendence of the human person" ( GS 76). The Encounter with ChriSt Permeated by the light and the warmth which emanate from these truths, 330 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1985 ,we set foot on the threshold of the stable of Bethlehem. He who is born in "poverty" asks us to turn our thoughts and hearts towards the varied forms of poverty which oppress.humanity today. He asks us to go to meet this humanity. "Jesus Christ. made himself poor though he was rich, so that we might become, rich by his poverty" (see 2 Co 8:9)¯ ~ Only by making room for, Christ in our own lives and in the lives of our communities will we be able to resolve the problem of the many, forms of poverty from which we suffer, will we truly become "rich," that is, fully, human. The true,problem, however, remains this: to recognize Christ's right to citizenship in each of the various '~worlds" which make up the'modern world. He and he alone possesses the secret for filling our every "poverty"and arousing in our hearts 'the joy of the true wealth, which, in the last analysis, is the treasure of love¯ . May Christmas bring., to the sons a~d daughters of the Church and to all men and women on earth, a foretaste of the indescribable peace of that new world to which the temporal birth of the Son of God happily and irrevoc-ably gave a beginning. May the Holy Virgin, who carried the Incarnate Word in her womb, prepare us to welcome him with deep faith and grateful love. A Gift of Stilln~s The flame from the candle bums steady and bright: It remains that way until a gentle breeze ¯ . comes its way, and it begins to, fliCker. The flickering is a speaking out and a reachi,ng out fo~ a stillness-- that Stillr~ess has but to be present, touchable, available, gentle. :. How much am 1 like that flame-- at times steady, reaching out, . at times burning bright-- and many times flickerin!! I need 0nly be touched by the Stillness.of the Flame of flames-~ ° Then my light becomes~radiant, penetrating, atz,one with the Light of lights. I have been made a Christ,ed flam!! 'I have been gift.ed with Stillness! Sister Regina Hlavac Mother Scton School 100 Creamery Rd., Emmitsburg, Mp 21727 The Mass in "My Cathedral" Pedro Arrupe, S.J. Father Arrupe is well known to our r~aders. In failing health, his resignation from the office of General Superior of the Society of Jesus was .accepted by the 33rd General Congregation of that Society' in September, 1983. "l~his article and introductory comment is I~ased on a chapter from In Him Alone Is Our Hope: Texts on the Heart of Christ (1965-1983), by Pedro Arrupe, S.J., with a foreword by Karl Rahner, S.J.; see Reviews in this issue, p. 466. . These intimate notes of Father Arrupe were jottings written in the course of 1981. °The ailing General hasnow consented that these notes, however incom-plete, ~be made public. In these pages we are able to glimpse how spontane-ously Father Arrupe has lived his intimacy with 'Jesus Christ in the celebration of the Eucharist in his oratory. " This little private chapel of,Father Arrupe, his "cathedral, "had been for Arrupe the powerhouse of in'calculable energy and dynamism for the ~whole Societp~ of Jesus, a place of inspiration; and a source of comfort and strength. This was the place where, for seventeen years, Father Arrupe performed the most important act of his daily routine--the celebration of the Eucharist. As though talking to himself, in these jottings the writer pauses at salient moments of the liturgy, having all the time the body of the Society in his mind. United to the Heart of Christ--he writes--he felt himself to be a mediator between God and the, Society, and understood better what St. Ignatius had in mind when he set down as the primar);~duty and function Of the General: to be "closely unitedwith God our Lord and intimate with him in prayer and in all his actions,, that from God, the.Fountain of all good, the General may so much the better obtain for the whole body of the Society a large share of his gifts and grace.s, and also a great power and efficacy for all the means which will be used for the;, help of souls"'(Constitutions, n. 723). A mini-cathedral! Just eighteen feet by twelve. A little chapel which had .331 332 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1985 been prepared after the death of my predecessor, Father Janssens, for "the new general'--whoever this was to be! Providence willed that I should bethe one. I am grateful to the person who had the idea; he could not have interpreted the wish of this new general better! The planner of this tiny chapel may have desired to give th~ new general a quiet and convenient place to celebrate Mass in greater privacy, where he might visit the Blessed Sacrament without leaving his rooms. Possibly the planner did not think how much thi~ little oratory would be the fountain of incalculable power and dynamism for the whole Society, a place of inspiration, consolation and strength---even a living room! This was going to be my room for relaxing in the most active leisure,. where, doing nothing, .everything is done! Just as the idle Mary, drinking in the Master's words, was so much more active than her sister Martha! This was going to be the room where the Master's glance and mine cross each other-- where one learns much in silence. The general would have the Lord all the time, every day, next tO .him-- with just a partition between them: the very Lord who was able to enter through the closed doors of the Cenacle, who made himself ~rese~t among his disciples, the One who would be invisibly present in so many conversations and meetings in my office. They call this little room "the private chapel of the general." But it is a teacher's chair (c6tedra) and a sanctuary: Thabor and Gethsemane, Bethlehem and Golgotha, Manresa and La Storta. Ever the same, ever different! If its walls could speak! Four walls that enclose an altar, a tabernacle, a crucifix, a Marian icon, a zabuton (a Japanese cushion), a Japanese painting, one sanctuary lamp. Nothing else is needed, that's all: a Victim, a sacrificial altar, the Stan-dard of the Cross, a Mother, a burning flame that is slowly being cofisumed while giving light and warmth, and love expressed by two Japanese characters: God/Love. Here is a program of life: a life being consumed in love, crucified with Jesus, in Mary's company, being offered to God even as the Victim which is offered to the Father day after day on the altar. In recent years 1 have often heard it said: "Why visits to the Blessed Sacrament if God is everywhere?" My answer, sometimes unexpressed, is: "Really, they don't know what they are saying. God is indeed everywhere, but 'come and see' (Jn 1:39) where the Lord dwells: this is his house." My appeal is not to arguments and discussion, but to the experience of living in the house of the Lord: "One with much experience will speak with understanding" (Si 34:9). ¯ "The Teacher is here and is calling for you"(Jn.l 1:28). Here those requests. rise s~ontaneously: "Lord, teach us to pray" (Lk l lr:l); "Explain tO US the" parable" (Mt 13:36). When we hear his words, we understand the expression of popular enthusiasm: "No man ever spoke like this man" (Jn 7:46),~or that of the Apostles: "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life" (Jn 6:68). Then one understands by experience the significance of that sitting at the Lord's feet and listening to his teaching" (Lk 10:39; see Lk 24:32): 7he Mass in "My. Cathedral" / 333 This "cathedral" is the theatre of the most important act of the entire daily routine: the Mass. Christ is the true and supreme priest, the Word made man. It is a divine attribute to be contained in the smallest place and not_to be circumscribed by the universe. This tabernacle or little tent is not too small.for him, but the entire universe is not big enough to hold him. Each Mass has an infinite value, but under some personal circumstances and in ,some special moments this quality of infinitude .is felt more deeply. There is no doubt that the ~fact of being General of the Society of J~sus, with its 27,000 men consecrated to the Lord and totally dedicated to collaborate with Jesus Christ the Savior in all sorts of difficult apostolates, which may at times lead to sacrificing life in ~o.bloody martyrdom, carries with it a weight of responsibility and a profound sense of universality of its own. I Shall Go to the Altar of God In union with Jesus Christ, I, a priest, carry witl~in myself the entire body ofthe Society. The walls of,this littld chapel look as though they would crack. The tiny altar seems to be.come ~that heavenly "altar on high" iEucharistic Prayer I) where the prayers, of all tl~e members of the Society ascend to the Father "by the hands of his~holy a, ngel.".My altar resembles "the golden altar before the throne" (Rv 8:3)~ referred to in the book of the Apocalypse. If, on the one hand, I feel myself, ~s St. Igna~us would have it, "a sore and ulcer" (Spiritual Exercises 58), "nothing but an obstacle" (todo imped(mento), on the other hand I also find myself identified with Christ, "designated by God a high priest" (Heb 5:10), "ho!y, ,blameless, unstained, separated from sinners, exalted above the heavens" (Heb 7:26), "who has entered, not into the sanctuary made with hands, but into Heaven itself, now.to appear in the presence of God on our behalf".(Heb 9:24). With Christ I find omy~elf ~t.oo a "victim": "I saw standing before the throne., a Lamb as,though it has been slain" (Rv .5:6). The Mass begins on this altar; suspended, as it were, between heaven and earth. If I look upward, I can see the heavenly Jerusalem: Wits radiance l!ke a most rare jewel, like jasper:.clear as crysta!" (Rv 21: l~l). But ~I saw no temple in the city, ~for its temple is the Lord God, and the Lamb is its sanctuary" (Rv 4:2~2-23). If I look downward, I see "human beings~ on the face of the earth, in such great dive.rsity in dress and in manner of acting. Some a~e white, some black; some at peace, some at war; some,weeping,so~e laughi.ng; some well, some s~ick; some coming into the w6rld, and some dying.? (SpEx 106). I am profoundly impressed at seeing from this altar, thus suspended between heaven and earth, all the members of the~Society in the world, toiling and suffering in the midst of their endeavors to help souls, ~sent th~:oughout the whole world to spread his sacred doctrine among all men, no matter what their state or condition" (SpEx 145). How I wish that from this altar blessings may fall as a mighty cascade, graces of light and strength that they need at 334 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1985 eveiy moment. In this Mass Christ will offer hirrigelf, and I wiih him, on behalf of this worldand this Society of Jesug'. Again, if I raise my eyes towards th~ heavenly Jerusalem, I see God's infinite hdliness, "the Three Divine Persons, seated on ~he royal th~ohe of the Divine Majesty, looking down upon the whole surface of the earth and behgldi~ng all nations in great blindness" (S~Ex 106). Meanwhile the clamor of "We have sinned" surges all the time from the face of the eh'rth~ a clamor tha~ resOufids with the rumbling of a ca~ract: ~the thur~der of thy cataracts" (Ps 42:7); "Then I heard the noise., of many waters and tlie sound of mighty thhnderpeals~ (Rv 19:6). When I feel myself, like the "servant of Yahweh," bearing ~the sins of the Society, chiefly during my generalate, and my own countless person~ilgins', 1 appear "despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief, and as one from whom men hide their faces." (Is 53:3). Meanwhile I wish it might be said of me, as it was said of Jesus: ."0port him'was the chastisement that made us whole" (Is 53:5); "He was oppressed and hewas afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth" (I~ 57:7). Thus while I hear the great'penitential act of the Society: "Wd have finn&l, and hax~e acted perversely and wickedly" (l K 8:47), I feel myself "the last of all, ,as one untimely born, unworthy of being called 'a son of the So~ciety'" (~see I Co 15:8-9). This is precisely the feeling that pCrmits me to sympathize with the fallen and the straying, and to grasp the whole meaning of those words of the leiier to the Hebrews: "He can deal gently with the ignorant.and 'wayward since he himself is beset with Weakness, he is bound to offer sacrifice for ~his owh sins as well as for thos~ of the people" (Heb 5:2-3). '" ' "° Christ becomes "the mediator of the n~w covenant" (Heb 9:15). I, too, in union with the heart of Christ and in spite of ever~hing, 1.feel mYself to ~be a mediator, and understand why St. Ignatius designat~es, as the l~fimary function of the General of the Society of Jesus, that "he should be clbsely united with GOd our Lord and intimfite with him, that from the Lord, the Fountain of All Good, the general may',.so i~uch the better obtain foi the whole body of the Society, a l~irge share of his gifts and gra~s, and'algo a great power and efficacy for all the meahs which will be used for the help of souls" (Const 723). My position between God and. the Society of Jesus, as a pribst and during the celebration of the Eucharigt, is that of a "inediatOr between God and men," to "govern the whole body of,the Society . This he will do~rimarily'by his prayer which is full of desires and by his s, acrifices, to 'obtain the grace of preservation and development. : and on his own part he should hold these means in high esteem, and have great confidence in our Lord, since these are the most efficacious means of gaining grace from hi~ Divine Majesty, the source of what is longed for" (Const 789-790). The office of general thus considered appears in all its~ depth and in clear light: "Morning by morning he awfikens my ear. The Lord God has opened my ear" (Is 50:4-5). Aware of my being°a priest with the servant Of 7he Mass in "My Cathedral"/335 Yahweh, "I do notwish to be rebellious or turn.backward; I offered my back to the smiters, and my cheeks to those who pull Out my beard. I hid not my face from shame and spitting" (see Is 50:5-6). But how consoling it is to read in the sacred text: "When he makes himself an offering for sin, he shall see his offspring, he shall prolong his days; the will of the Lord shall prosper in his hand; he shall see the fruit of the trav~iil of his soul and be satisfied; by his knowledge shall, the righteous one~ my servant, make many 'to be accounted righteous,, and he shall bear their iniquities" (Is.53:10-11). The Offertory ~" I experience the profound feeling ofstandin~ before the God of mystery (arcano),.the~4gios athanatos (Holy Immortal One) and the Deus absconditus (the hidden God).- I feel that he is present in me and loves me as a father, that he is the fouritainhead of all life, and that' he accepts my offering. As I raise the paten, I.try to penetrate with the eyes of Christ, and with the light of faith, through the infinitude of the universe to the very heart of the Tririity: -"Blessed ~re 3;ou, God of all creation; through ydur goodness we have this bread to offer:."At the same time those .words,from the former offertory text come to my mind: ".-. which 1, thy unworthy servant offer to thee, the living and true God." All my unworthiness, faces,'me again: "despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief' (Is 53:3); "and he shall bear their iniquities" (Is 53:11). You know everything, Lord! As I raise the paten, if'seems to me that all my brothers ,gaze~at it., feeling themselves to be present:?'., and for all those around me." The paten seems to expand as "my innumerable sins and negli-gences" and those of others are accumulating along with the aspirations.and desires of the whole SoEiety. Like'Moses, lfeel that "I am not able to carry all this people alone; the burden is toffheayy for me" (Nb 11:14). I feel as though the hands of all the Jesuits of the v~orld would help me to sustain this most heavy paten, loaded with sins.but also with desires, hopes and petitions. I seem~ to hear the Lord say to me, as he said to Moses: "I will.take some of the spirit which is upon you and put it upon them; and they-shall bear the burden of the people with you, that you maY not bear it yourself alone" (Nb 11:17). And then, as though the paten would become lighter--or my arms stronger I am able~tb lift the patenhigher as if to place it nearer to the Lord. "And also for all faithful Christians, living and dead . and for the salvation of the whole world." I almost feel like fainting when faced with human malice and sin. 1 need that you. stretch out 'your mighty hand, Lord. "I stretched out the heavens alone, ~I~ spread out the earth. Who was with me?" (Is 44:24). Sustained by this powerful hand, I shall be able to carry on: "This bread will become for us the Bread of Life." I now take the chalice with the wine which will be changed into the blood of'Jesus: "Blessed are you, Lord, God of all creation. Through your goodness we have this wine tb offer., it will.become our spiritual drink." t 336 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1985 This wine, fruit of the vine pressed down in the winepress and fermented, will be converted into the blood shed on the cross. This chalice, symbol of that cup that caused you to shed blood at Gethse-mane, .and that was so bitter that you wished you would not have to drink it, Will soon becrme the chalice of your blood~poured out for the salvatior~ of the world. Into it are now poured .the sufferings of so many Jesuits who, crushed in their turn, have given or shall give their lives for you in a bloody or unbloody manner, their tears,,their sweat., a foul, unsavory mixture,which, when united with your blood; will become pleasant and sweet-scented--the aroma of Christ (2 Co 2:15). ~: "We know that this is to be our lot. ,~to suffer affliction" ( 1 Th 3:3), but irresistibly impelled by your charity "for the love of God overwhelms us" (2 Co 5:14), we choose and beg "to be received under your standard . and bear insults and wrongs, thereby to imitate you better" (see SpEx 147): Certainly you have heard our prayer, for the cup is overflowing, but charity makes us to be "overjgyed with all our.affliction" (2 Co 7:4). This chalice, converted for us into,"a°fragrant offering and sacrifice" (Ep 5:2), is accepted by you as an offering pleasing to God (see Ph 4:18) and will become for us "our spiritual drink." ,, .~ Thu~, bowing before the throne of the Trinity, I can.say with the whole Church: "In the spirit of humility and. with a contrite heart, let, us be received by thee, O Lord; and grant that the sacrifice we offer in thy, sight this day may be pleasing to Thee, O Lord God." Our sacrifice--of Christ, of me, and of the whole Society, asa body united' in the charity of the Holy Spirit, members and head with Christ (see Const 67,1.). United also with "the bond of obedience"(Const 659)~ by which we all, as one man, offer the daily holocaust of our lives, "in which the entire man, without any reser~vation, offers himself in the fire of charity to his Creator and Lord (Letter on Obedience; March 26, 1553: MI Epp IV, 669-681). Our personal sacrifices, united in the da.ily community holocaust, constitute a total sacrifice-- our sacrifice of praise (Eucharistic Prayer IV). Preface and comecra~ion ,, From the heart itself of the Society spontaneously arises that acknowledg-ment: "Father, it is truly meet and just, it is our duty and our salvation always and everywhere to give you thanks:" Our song of praise would join tliat of the angels and blend it into a harmonious choir, every member of which sings in his own voice in.a multitude and diversity of tones, similar to that impressive, chorus formed by that "great multitude which no man could number from.all the tribes and peoples and tongues., crying out witha loud voice, 'Salvation belongs to our God who sits upon the throne, and to the Lamb'" (Rv 7:9-10). Our song would join also ~that.of the Society triumphant in heaven, and that of all the saints: "Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and might be to our God for ever and ever! AmenL' (Rv 7." 12). The Mass in "My Cathedral"/337 Following on this mighty chorus, I.seem to hear a striking silence. "Be silent before the Lord God! For the day of the Lord is at hand; the Lord has prepared a sacrifice and consecrated his guests" (Zp 1:7). "Be silent, a.ll flesh, before the Lord!" (Zc 2:1,3). "There was silence in heaven for about half an hour" (Rv 8: l). Let us, therefore, keep in the silence of our heart, as Mary did (Lk 2:51), everything that is .going to take place on "this altar .in heaven" (Eucharistic .Prayer IV), the mystery of the Passover, in which "Christ was immolated," the mys_tery of the Redemption of the world, the mystery.of the highest glorification of the Father.~"And they were filled with wonder and astonished at what had taken place" (Ac 3:10). The sublime moment of the consecration is drawing near.,In union with the whole bgdy of the Society,0identified with Christ, I hold the host in my hands and pronounce the words "This is my body"--my body, that of Christ; "This is thecup of my blood'--a solemn moment which can be noted only in awesome silence. ~ Christ converts the bread into his body and the wine into his blood, but the one pron.ouncing the sacramental words is I! This identification with him is such that I caia'say, "This is my bod~,,'-' but it is Christ's body! My inner self, is all ablaze--as if I felt the Heart of Christ beating instead of mine, or within ¯ mine! As though his blood was coursing through my veins at the moment of consecration! ~The mystical, sacramental separation of the body and blood of Christ is a reality and a symbol, but he who receives the body receives the whole Christ and he who receives the blood receives the whole as well. The redemption of the world was thus accomplished: incarnation, death, paschal mystery, ~salvation. All this is repeated at this moment in my hands. _I remain "filled with astonishment," yet "I believe, Lord,~help my unbelief (Mk 9:24). Christ in my. hands! The Lamb that takes away the sins of the world is not on the "highest throne" of the Apocalypse, but in my hands, as bread under the sacramental species I believe! At the moment of consecration the perfect glorification of the Father takes place. This will soon be exp,ressed in the doxology: "Through Christ, with him, and in him, in the unity of, the Holy Spirit, all glory and honor~is yours, Almighty Father, for ever and ever." . At this solemn moment I pause a while "in order to reflect and ponder upon what presents itself to ~mY mind (SpEx 53). How does the world appear from this altar? How does Jesus Christ see it? In order to understand this I mus.t enlarge my hear~ to world proportions. Like the Heart of Christ, the heart of the body of the whole Society must be enlarged, and with it the heart of each one of us. Ours must be a heart that embracesall men without exception, as did the Heart of Christ "who desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth" (1 Tm 2:4), so that finally "there shall be one flock, one shepherd" (J~n 10:16). From this altar, between heaven and earth, one gets a better vision and 338 / Review for Religion, May-June, 1985 understanding of the needs,of men and women in the ~,ast ~vorld;:one sees and ¯ unders.tands, now in a new light, the impoi't of that universal'mission: "Go into all the world and preachthe Gospel to the whole of creation" (Mk 16:15), I. personallyfeel myself, as it were; hurled into the world, hnd withi!me the whole Society sent to the wide ,world. Thisqs its target, its~allotted tfisk, until it return again to g!orify the Lord; once the'battle-'for tile kingdom is won. " My ears keep ringing with those reassuring statements:'~"I ~send~ you"~ (Jn 20:21), and "I am with you.always" (Mt 28:20). These words fill ourhearts:. with donfidenc~, My incomparable:companion is Christ'himself; wh6 is pregent not only on this altar but within 'me, filling me with his divinity, and he: sends me to those Who'did not receive him (see Jfi 1:11). 'My response can 6n13~ be: "Lord; whai would you have meto do?" (Ac 9:6),'~and "What ought I t0do f6r Christ?" (SpEx 53). '" :~:- "~ ~ The body of the Sbciety;" in its full awareness of being sent and°strengthened with the power of God, feels rejuvenated and full of vigor and zest; it feels the blood' ~fChrist coursing through its veins, and the fullfiess of thi~ Spirii of Christ pbs~essing its~ve~y being, as if propelled by the rush of a'mighty wind (see Ac 2:2). ~Who.~vill be able to withstand this Society if it faithfullyfollows the line of mission pointed out to it by the Lord?The Societyknows~thai~the life of its members is:that of "men crucified to .theworld and to :'wh6m-the world is crucified" (see Ga 6:14), and that no one will be able to withstahd "the~ wisdom and the Spirit who speaks" in such men (~ee Ac 6:10), nor r~gist their Voice (Jdt 16:14): ~- , ~ The Our Father . ' The Father bfthe Society: all sons of the same Father, of the Father:who, at La Stortia, asked:the Son, loaded with the cross; to receive l~natiti~ as his servant, thereby confirming the name'of "Society°of Jesus.-': The Our Fathe'rqs the perfect pra3~er'for the individual and for the commufiity. "- Who are in heaven: A Jesuit must always look'hehvenwards. There is ,his Father and his fatherland. Our entire life is for. the kingdom. " ", 'You'r kingdom dome: All our labors would be of no avail without the di~ihe help in establiShing this kingdom. The whole Society asks for this grace.most earnestly because it knows that the success of all its undertakings hinges on the answer to this°farayer. Your Will lie done: We must cooperate with the divine will--for Wliiehit is necessary that we know it. ~ Give us, Lord, tlib sense of true discernment for knowing'at every moment what your will for Ug is. 'Keep on enlightening us to find ~our will, and~iving us the strengtli.~o fulfill it. ~ The Society's on13~ goal is the carrying'out of your will--your wilFmani-fest~ d in various ways; but especially through obedience. My responsibility, as Superior General of the Society, is very great,indeed. "To him all auihpHtyis given ad aedifica?idnem (for building up)!" (see Const 736). Your will'b~ done: The Mass in "My Cathedral"/' 339 may ,I never be an obstacle; may I never disfigure, misrepresent, or mistake your will for the Society. It is very painful to think that this might happen. Keep me faithful to your teaching, and ''never let me be parted from you" (the ,prayer°before Communion). ~ ~ . o I onside.r this to be a most necqssary grace. Therefore, bowing before the paten which holds your Body, I repeat this prayer again and again: Death a thousand times rather than to be separated from you! "As the Lord lives. wherever my lord the king shall be, whether for death or for life, there als0 will your servant be" (2 S 15:21)~ ~ With my eyes fixed on the consecrated Host; I present it to the brother who accompanies me in the celebration, and who takes the place.rof all the Jesuitk--just as with the first disciples who,saw Jesus when John the Baptist drew their attention to him. There they saw a man; here we see only a piece of bread. This is an act of true faith: believing against what we see. The act of faith in the Eucharist is indeed "a hard saying; who dan listen to it?" (Jn 6:60). No; Lord, faith in the, Eucharistic, Mysteryis not hard. It is rather a source of immense joy: "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words ofete rnal life" (Jn 6:68). I believe! "Lord, I am not Worthy, but only say the word and I shall be healed" (see Mt 8:8), just as you ,healed the centurion's servant. The Society believes that you are~Lord; and wants to. shelter ~you under its roof: in our houses, in our churches in which we want to visit you and contribute to your glorification and cult.'~And.especially the Society wantsto sbelt~i~ you in the hearts of each one .~f us, and .in the tabernacles of each community, where they will-keep,.you .company and seek from you light, comfort and strength to carry out the mission you have entrusted to them. ~ ,, Enter, Lord, under the roof of your ~Society. We need you. There are so °many crises of faith, so mhny sophisticated'interpretations parading as scientifi-cally theological! At times even Christian piety is made light of, as though ,.these manifestations of solid and.~ lgnatian faith were antiquated superstitions. "Anti, my soul shall be saved:,~ Lord, do,not permit the Society,to.yield in this matter, or degenerate from ~what St. Ignatius wanted it to be. Eooking fixedly at thi~ white.Host, I fall on my knees; and 27,000 Jesuits° kneel with me, saying, with the Apostle Thomas; from the bottom of my soul, ~and with .unswerving faith: "My Lord and my God" (Jn 20:28). May the Body of Christ Bring Me to Everlasting Life Lord, keep the whole Society; keep me especially, since you have given me this office of such great responsibility. Communitarian communion; identifica-tion with Christ; a food that is not transformed but transforms. Body of the Society "Christified'--all united and converted into Christ himself. What bet-ter "union of hearts"! (Const) 655). "For me to live is Christ'~ (Ph l:21), now more than .ever. How well Nadal's observations fit in here! "Accept and diligently exercise 340 / Ri~view for Religious, May-June, 1985 the union wherewith the Spirit of the Lord favors you regarding Christ and his powers. Thus you may come to perceive in your soul that you understand through his intellect, will by his will, remember through his memory, and that your entire self, your existence, your life and your actions are realized, not .in you, but in Christ. This is the highest .perfection in this life: power divine, happiness beyond compare" (Nadal, MHSI, Orationis Observationes~ n. 308, p. 122). With this identification of the Society and of each member of the Society with Christ, our aposto!ic activity and our help to souls will gain in efficacity. Our words will be those of Christ who knows which is the suitable word at every moment. Our-plans and manner of apostolate will be precisely those with which th~ Lord will inspire us, which cannot fail to be fruitful--a "Society of Jesus," truly of Jesus, one with him. The Blessing of Almighty God How consoling and moving for me, as identified with Christ, to impart the .blessing, his blessing, to the universal Society, a blessing which cannot fail to be efficacious. This blessing goes to you, workers of the Lord's vineyard, scattered throughout the world and beset with so many difficulties: to you, who are bound to the bed of suffering by pain and infirmity, who offer~ your prayers and afflictions for souls, and for the Church and the Society; to you superiors, who bear a heavy responsibility, and have been entrusted with a task not easy in the present time; to you who are in charge of the formation of our young Jesuits, who are shaping the Society of tomorrow; to you coadjutor brothers, who, in a decisive movement of our history are going through a:profound transformation, and ~who are serving the Church and the Society with so much dedication and selflessness; to you young scholastics and novices~in whom necessarily rests.the hope of the Society for the future, in which 0yot~°ought to be men dedicated to the Church and to souls, in the ,Society deeply, imbued with the .spirit of St. Ignatius; to you very especially, who live in countries deprived of true feedom, who need to feel that the Society is very near to you and values your difficult ministry and testimony; to all of you in the furthermost corners of the world, in the most hidden rooms in our houses, in th~ remotest stations in the jungle. May the blessing of Almighty God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit descend upon you and remain with you always. The Mass in my cathedral is ended. "Go and set the world on fire!" Vocation: Where Gladness Meets Hunger J. Peter Sartain Father Sartain. ordained four years ago, is presently Director of Vocations for the Diocese of Memphis. He may be addressed at the diocesan offices: 1325 Jefferson Ave.; P.O. Box 41679; Memphis, TN 38104-1679. For the past three years I have vacationed with Mike, a friend from seminary days and a priest of another diocese. Inevitably our vacation conversations have turned to the subject of vocation: how~ we had both .discovered the importance :of staying in touch with the roots of our vocations meaning not simply that we felt called to be diocesan priests, but on a more profound .level, that we felt called' at all. We know each other well en6ugh ~o confront~and challenge each other as we discuss possible directions~for our ministry in living out our call. At times we would speak of specific hopes and dreams, our clearest p~ayerful perceptions of our call. Thus it was~that Mike told me he had a deep desire to live a simple lifestyle in community, to Work with the very po6r, and to have some experience ¯ of the desert. In the months that followed this conversatiofi we corresponded about his efforts to start a Catholic Worker community in'his diocese. Event~- ally those efforts,proved unfruitful~ or at. least ill-timed. That was little more than a year ago. F0i'4he past ten months Mike's letters have been postmarked "Zimbabwe," where he was sent with a team from his diocese:to inaugurate a mission. The mov,e happened very fast, but ~e both knew it was right. Not long ago Mike wrote that he realizes his new.ministry is just what he had hoped for--he shares the poverty of those he serves, Who are among the poorest of the, pbor; and the "desert" within is fed by the desert without: his territory has not~een rain in more than two yearS. It.is a difficult mission, and 341 ~42 / Review for Religious, ~May-June, 1985 the transition has not been without its struggles, ~ ~ My friendship with Mike, our sharing with one another the movement of God within us and our pra~,erful support of each other have taught me a great deal about my call and about "vocation" in general. In this article'I will reflect on an understanding of vocation which has proved helpful for me and those to whom I minister as Director of Vocations for my diocese. I do not propose to address every aspect of a complete theology of 9ocation but to offer a frame-work which may help contextualize one's understanding of his or her call to service in the Church. Gladness and Hunger In Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC Frederick Buechner proposes an insightful definition of vocation: "The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet."1 -From the moment I read it this definition struck deep chords within me, for it resonated with my experience of myself and of the Gospel. God calls each one of us to authentic happiness and to service; and these two dimensions of God's call meet in an honest and prayerful search fortruth~ ~ Discovering Our Deep Gladness If anyone wisbes to come after reel he must deny his very self, take up his cross, and begin to follow in my footsteps. Whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life,for my .sake will find 4t (Mt 16:24-25). ~ . Jesus" challenge of self-denial has always intrigued me as.I have,sought to deepen my. response to. his invitation to "come after me." Teilhard d~ Chardin . . . lays ddwn two ~ospel imperatives, self-developnient and " renunciation. The first call of'the Gospel, he says, is'to utilize our talents, develop our, " gifts, and construct our human life. Only then does the call to total ab_negatio_n make sense. We are called to renounce everything and give our life to,,tally back to Ggd. But we must first possess ihat life in~ order to give it away3 At the center of each Christian vocation is an on-going call to know oneself. No response to God's call can be immediately whol#, in the sense that none of us is totally in touch with our_ livesat any one point in. time, especially in the. early, stages ofoformation. One who ~senses a call from God, then, ~ begins a life-long process,of gaining self-knowledge. I believe this search for'self-knowl-edge, when seen in the light,of the search for God and a lovefor God's creation, becomes~a,search for one's "deep gladness~? Authentic happiness lies not in doing what makes me happy but~in being f~ully whorl,am--learning the truth about myself and living it for God and his people, ~possessing" my life so that I can give it back to God. This search can, take place~ authentically only in the context of prayer. "l:hose who pray are inviting the Spirit into their lives; and those who invite the Spirit into their lives are inviting the truth--about God, about themselves and. about the world around them . . Vocation: Where Gladness Meets Hunger The. Fear .and Freedom of Truth There can"exist simultaneously within us a deeply curious,ahd burning need to know ourselves and a consuming fear about what we will find within. ffhere can be~the suspicion that~ what we will find will be unacceptable, or unlovable, or at least something other than that for which w6 had hoped. Nevei'theless,o;the Christian who, genuinely struggles0to follow the Lord will cbme~face-.to~face ,with truth. Living~the Gospel means learning the truth, for as we seek to enflesh the words of Jesus, the Word of Truth enlightens us. If you live according tb my teaching, you are ii'uly my disciples; th'en yo~ will know the ~itruth, and the truth will set you free (Jn 8:31-32). ~° ' Jesus ~ys, "The truth will set y0ia free." Jesus the Truth liberates; it'is lies which enslave. We do not have to look far to see that lies really do ensla e: ~t is the lie that says: "All people are not fundamentally equal" which perpetuates policies and practices of discrimination across the gl6be; it° is theqie that sa~,s: "Unlimited possessions are my due" which causes half the world to go to bed hungry each night; it is the lie that says: "Deep within each of i~s there is some unspeakable ugliness" which can keep us frotri being-freed~-by the ~truth. Lies en~lave, the trtlth sets fre~; and one cannot come to a saving encounter with Trtith 0with0~it facing the truth about-oneself. ~ The"call to~cbnversi~)n can be wrongly interpreted as a call to becoming 's~)ihething I am not, as tho, ugh, somehow, my 'natural condition as God's child. include"~ "unacceptability." But con~,ersion does not m~an becoming acceptabl~ to Gbd. This misapprehension can'be abetted by a pervasive but distorted view 6f the~ human person which carries tile body/soi~l dichotohay to the ultimate degree. Then it is that I become c0n~inced that my body is the worldly/sehZ "~tial/sinful 15art of my existence, and my soul is~the othei'~-worldly/spiritual/i'e-deemable part. Such a view of the human person ~ould only' lead to an unhealthy spiritual dualism which pretends' that only "good" tho~Jghts and "positive" feelings are "worthy" of Gbd; "bad" thoughts and'"negaiive" feelings are therefore to be avoided, even denied at all costs sinc~they originate in the d~irkness of that'"~)ther" part of my being, the part of me which God tolerates but does not cherish. SuCh dis~tortions militateagainst any substantial growth toward wholeness, and th~ Christians who are enslaved 6y them will meet continually with frus-tration' as~ they~find that their "unspiritual" bodies arid "worldly~ thought~ s~mply will not go away. For them, the search for triJ~ih will be a frighte~ng enterpri~; a journey into an unfriefidly and ungodly void. " ~ F6~tUh~tel~, G~Sd does not have designs solely on,our souls. P~ul mak6s this clear in the closing blessing o~" his letter to the Th~ssalonians: May the God of peace make you perfect in holiness. May he preserve you whole and entire, sprat', soul,'and body, ~rreproachable at the coming of our Lord Jesus Chris. He who calls us is trustworthy, therefore he will do it (! Th 5:23-24). For the true disciple of Je'sus conversion rather mean~ transformation in :344 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1985' Christ; it embraces a new way of liying in love. Conversion does not mean denying who I am, but acknowledging thar.I am not whole without Jesus, and accepting the wholeness he wishes to bestow on me. Moreover, conversion involves, being fully who I am--holy and unholy--in.Jesus, and discovering in prayer and life with others that only in confronting the truth about myself and holding that,truth up to the light of the Gospel will I be truly free and "deeply glad." The full truth is that I am the sinner redeemed, the enslaved set free, the beloved called t6 love. For ma~y people coming to that full truth is not easy. For them truth is something to be feared, not embraced. ,~They are frighten.ed by the nagging suspicion that at the center of their hearts and heads there is really s0m~eone wh~ is~unattracfive and abnormal, someone certainly not called by God. They are haunted by the~ fear that at the center of their lives there is no "deep gladness," but only a painful sadness. The Fruit of.~Honesty The fear of truth is played out jn a number of w.ays in.houses of formation. It can be manifested in anger, defensiveness, a purely passive submissiveness to authority, and everything in between. Formation ministers, then, r~ust be honest people people so in tune with the freedom of truth that they create an environment which values and demands~b, onesty in every forum. In evaluating ~ndidates they must speak the truth gently but directly~ realizing that any-thing but.clarity is useless and potentig!ly even harmful. They must make evident in themselves the sine qua non, that one must be honest in prayer, spiritual direction, ministry,friendship and self-evaluation; that avoiding the-risk involved in revealin.g oneself to another means avoiding growth, avoidihg a liberating and truth-filled gladness. It goes w, ithout saying that professional counseling~-and the opl~ortunity to inte~rate~ it with spiritual direction--should be readily available for those ministers whrwish to avail themselves of it. To avoid the truth about oneself is to feel, hu.nger yet refuse food. The Church needs ministers who want t~ face the truth. . In writing just now of coming to know oneself I have not mentioned the obvious that the Perso~n who really knows him or herself wil),hapl~ily dis-cover that they really do possess even ~unused talent and untapped potential. I have seen many extremely talented peo~ple--people whose i~bility was widely known and often praised who neverthel'ess were deeply unhappy. They were blind to their talent because they were convinced that the truth about thehaselves was not acceptable. Th~y'~oncluded that any praise directed to them was given only out of sympathy or out of "Christian charity." Often they busied them-selves 'doing too ma~y. things, and their hyper-activit~, ~left~them tir, ed~ and unfulfilled--and sad. Our talents will remain untapped and any use of them apologetic until we discover deep within us ~he uncompromised and joyful love of God. We Vocation: Where Gladness Meets Hunger / 345 ca, nnot discover that love until we seek, with the help of Others, ,to know ourselves honestly. And we cannot hope to know ourselves unless we pray, inviting the Spirit of Truth to abide in us. Henri Nouwen has written: Only in the context of grace can we face our sin; only in the place of healing do we dare show our wounds; on|y with a single-minded attention to Christ can we give up our clinging fears and face our own true nature. As we come to realize that it is not we who ¯ live, but Christ who lives in us, that he is our true self, we can slowly let our compulsions melt a~way and begin to experience the freedom of the children of God.a "Deep.gladness~ comes with the incredible revelation that Christ is our true self and that he calls us from within. Our~deep gladness resides foundationally in kno.wing the truth about our-selves and discovering in that truth the overwhelming love and acceptance of God. The truth frees us from the lies which enslave us and enables us to use our talents Confidently and generously. It causes us to boa~st in the weakness which i~ntensifies ou~r hunger for.God. It teaches us tooffer totally to God what we know to be ourselves. And it liberates .us to see clearly the hungers of the world and to minister to those hungers with a burning gladness. A Hungry World ' I sometimes feel uneasy around the poor, partly because they unwittingly remind me. of my comfortable lifestyle and partly because they challenge me to live a life of true justice. An experience during my seminary~days in-Rome had a profound effect on me in this regard. On the feast of the Epiphany I had gone with a group of seminarians to St. Peter's Basilica for the celebration of the Eucharist at which the pope would be presiding. Halfway through the Mass a friend ~became oill and had tO return tothe seminary;I decided to a.ccompanyohim. Shortly after leaving tl~e basilica we noticed a small, shabbily-dressed woman following us; she appeared to be one of the many poor who live on the streets of Rome, At first we paid little notice, but'~Padually sh6 drewl.up tb within a few feet of us. We assumed that she was going to ask for money, burmuch to our surprise she simply inquired of my friend, ''What's wrong with you?" When he explained that he was not feeling well she took us both by the arm and led us hurriedly to a nearby bar. She ordered two glasses of hot milk into which she stirred several 'teaspoonsful of sugar, and~ three large cream-filled pastries (one for herself). Now we assumed we would be asked to~.~pick up the tab, but tb our total amazement she paid for everything. After admonishing us for not taking better care ofourselves'she told us to eat and drink up.~Then she said she had to be off to Mass because it was a feastday. We never saw her again. That little Italian woman taught"me as much about love as anyone I can remember; she spontaneously and joyfully nourished a hunger I did not know i had: the need to learn to love spontaneously and without conditions. Mother Teresa of Calcutta has written: "In heaven we will all be surprised to find how our poor have helped us to become Christ-like in love and compas- 3~16 / Review f or Religious, May,June, 1985 sion.,4 On that Epiphany l~witiaessed a simple, Christ-like love, and I learned something more about my vocation. ,4 New Vision Self-knowledge is the foundation of the spiritual life; but that is not to say that spirituality is merely a gutsy, prayer-laden introspection whose purpose is to help one feel good about oneself. Prayer itself is suppos~ed to be a two-way street, l seek to know myself that I might possess the life I am giving back to God; I pray that I might know the God to whom I am giving myself; through prayer and self-kngwledge I allow God to open my eyes to the hungers -bf his people~ and hear Jesus' call: "Feed my lambs." The progression, then, is circular: living the Gospel helps one know the liberating truth about God, self and others~ and the.resulting free, dom allows one to learri how t~ live the Gospel more frilly. Nouwen has rightly observed that in ministry one makes visible~vhat is seen in contemplation: "The contemplative life'is a life witha vision, and'~the. life of ministry is a life iri Which this vision is revealed to others."5 Through prayer the eyes and heart of the believer~are gradually transformed into the eyes and heart of the Lord; and having acquired this new vision the beli6ver makes it palpable in life and ministry. Having seen with God's eyes "the hung~e~ of God's people, the Christian senses~a call to'attend those hungers-:-because-iri the faces of the "hungry" is seen the face of Jesus himself. Letting the Lord shap~ our vision or better, 'cure our~blindne~s is a gi~adual process and an important l~art of ~onversion. I'think of the story of the blind man at¯ Bethsaida: , ¯ When they ~irrived at B~thsaida, some people brought him a blind man and I~egged him to touch him. Jesus to6k~the blind man's hanOI and led him outside the .village. Putting spittle in his eyes he laid his hands on him and asked. "Can you see anythingT~The man opened his eyes and said~ ~I can see people but they look like walking trees!" Then a second time Jesus laid hands on his eyes, and he saw peff~ectly; his sight was restored and '~e could see ever3~hing clearly (Mk 8:22-25). Mark .uses this story to illustrate that the disciples~of Jesus only gradually open their eyes~ to ,see ,things as he sees them, just as the blind man 0nly gradually received his sight through repeated contact with Jesus . ,At its heart, conversion means,allowing the Lord to shape our vision through prayer and a~truth-seeking.meditation on his word, and then respond-ing to what we.see. A ~'~ne~w vision" does not mean that things external to us have changed, but that we see things in a new~ and proper light. In ,his poem "Journey of the Magi" T. S. Eliot presents the retrospect of one of the astrol-. ogers who had traveled to Bethlehem to see~the Christ-child; what he had ~een changed and unsettled him: ,~ o, All this fffis a long time ago, I remember, And I would do it again, but set down This set down This: were we led all float way fo'r Vocation: Where ,Gladness ,Meets Hunger /347 "'~irth or Death? There was a Birth, cei~inly, We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death, ' " ¯ . But had thought they were different; this Birth was Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our deatl~.' We returned to" our places, ,these Kingdoms, But no longer at ease here~ in the old dispensatiofi, With an alien people clutching their gods. I should be glad of another death.6 Thevision of Jesus is an unsettling vision, a vision marked by an active ' impatiqnce and a passionat~ dissatisfaction with,r,tbecondition of the worl, d~It is a vision which abhors indifference and is ariimated by hope. It is a vision which can s!ngle out the individual in the nameless~ suffe~ring crowd, and embrace an entire people, having seen one h~urti~g face. It is a vision of compS|ling truth and compassionate l~'e. Our Vocati6n in Jesus It iS precisely~in ~he unsettli.ng ambiguity of a vision which is hopefu~l in the face of hunger that we sense our vocation. Here it is that we hear the Lord telling us to transform our impatience and disSatiSfaction inio active love, as he has done before us. Here we begin to know that it would make us "deeply happy to respond m the name of God to the hunger~ we see. Here we realize that our vocation is, m fact, the vocation of Jesus himself. Ifi the synagogue at Nazareth Jesus revealed his vocation through a passage from the pr.oph~y of Isaiah: The,Spirit of the Lord is upon me; therefore he has anointed me. He has sent me to bring gl~d tidings to th~ poor, to proclaim liberty to ¢hptives, Recovery of sight to the blind ." and release to pnsoners, ~ - ,,. .To announce the year of favor from the Lord (Lk 4:18-19)~, Having been~anointed with the Spirit of Truth, Jesus'finnounced that his vocation was to bring glad tidings to the poor and hungry, freedom to the enslaved, and new vision to the blind. He lived his vocation, and he calls others to do likewise.~. ' '~ Christians discerning their vocaiions must be attentive to the signs of the ¯ times with the sabne.prayerful passion with which'they seek to know themselves. They must be students of culture and current events as well as theology, and they' must strive for a, sense' of compassion which, is world-wide in its scope. God's love ki~ov~s noclass distinctions or' national boundaries. Vocation ministers have a responsibility to challenge those in'formation to understand the prophetic nature of the Gospel, and t~o reject as !nadequate any view of ministry which seeks tl~e salvation of the soul but not of 1he whole person or of society. The attention given to the Church's social teachings today helps candidates for ministry understand the un-evangelized condition of the 348,/ Review for Religious, May-June, 1985 world and the perspective wh!ch is offered to that situation by.the Gospel. Our ~social tradition does not offer specific solutions to every social problem, how-ever, nor should it. Candidates, then, should be given tools to evaluate for themselves what tfiey see around them in light of the Good News. I have learned the most ih life not from people who taught me what they thought, but from people who taught rn'e how to tl~ink. Ministers who have been given tools to think for themselves will be not only more self-confident but ultimately more effective. Like the Beadle Moch~ in Elie Wiesel's Night they will learn tO"pray to the God within me that he will give me the strength to ask him the.right qtiestidns."7 If I value the freedom of truth I will respect the freedom of others." Hunger is not only global and physical, nor is it found only in tenements or on street corners; it is als0 fotihd in the Church. A friend recently.told me that one reason he is considering the priesthoodis because he sees a c.rying n~ed for strengthening communities of faith on the parish level. As a professional.in his early 30s he knows how difficult it is to find support for Gospel values in the marketplace, and his experience of parish life has not always given him or his peers the community support and insight needed for applying the Gospel to everyday life. As he strives to be a better Christian he is often struck by the success of other Christian denominations in formihg communiiies of ~uppon and e~an-gelization. He sees the pri.est ~s a ledder of the faith cbmmunity and recognizes his own talent foi" leading, communicating and creating community. He is asking whether for him priesthood might be the place wherehis gladness and a real hunger meet. The hungers of the world are as many and varied as our gifts. The specificity of one's vocation will emerge as self-understanding and self-love grow into an appreciation of what one has to offer God's people. Truth will meet truth in prayer when self-knowledge comes face-to-face with a cldar, unsettling, inviting vision of the hungers of the world. And that truth will be enlightened by the confident hope won for us in the paschal,mission of Jesus. "What Is Needed Is Trust" Another fruit of prayer and the Christian life is trust. Trust enables us to remember God's deeds on our behalf and gives us confidence that he will care for us now as he has in the past. It enables us to take steps which otherwise we ~would be terrified to take---especially when a vocational~choice confronts us. Answering God's call.means choosing to love in whatever way.love is needed-- it does not mean choosing a new job; and trust in God is needed in order to say "yes" to such an unclea r future. In one of Mike's recent letters he was reflecting on our ministries, his in a mission in Zimbabwe and mine in vocations and personnel work in Memphis. He wrote: Both of us planning and preparing to be parish priests now end up in ministries we each would never have dreamed of and would have run full tilt from if we'd gotten wind of it~ Vocation:~ tVhere Gladness Meets Hunger / 349 before ordination. Maybe that's why Jesus said "Today has enough troubles of its own"---what is left out in that verse is ~lf you knew the troubles of tomorrow you'd be scared to death." Funny they 'don't print t, hat stuff in the Bible. Must They Look for Another? Captive in Herod's prison John the Baptist sends his disciples to Jesus to ask him a question which both scandalizes and indicts us: "Are you 'He who is to come' or do we look for another?" (Mt 11:3). Jesus responds by pointing out the x;ocation he is fulfilling: Go back and report to John what you hear and see: the blind recover their sight, cripples walk, lepers are cured, the deaf hear, dead men are raised to life, and the poor have the good news preached to them (Mt I 1:4-5). The Baptist's question is asked today in countless languages and is born of countless hungers. Jesus responded in his day by, telling John to see in his ministry the fulfillment of Isaiah's prophecy. In our day we can hear our vocation in the question. The Spirit of Truth °helps us discover our deep gladness in sharing the victory of Jesus with God's hungry.world as only each of us can do. NOTES I Frederick Buechner, Wishful Thinking: A TheOlogical ABC (New York:. Harper &' Row. Pub-lishers, 1973), p. 95. ~Ernest E. lmrkin~ O. Carm., Silent Presence: Discernment as Process and Problem (Denville, New Jersey: Dimension Books Inc., 1981), p, 13. ~Henri J.M. Nouwen, The Way of the Heart (New York: The Seabury Press, 1981), p. 30. 4Mother Teresa in a letter to a group sponsonng a~ fund-raising activity on behalf of her ministry. ~Henri J.M. Nouwen, Clowning in Rome (Garder~ City, New York: Image Books, 1979), p. 88. 0T. S.'Eliot, "Journey of the Magi." in T. S. Eliot~."~ Se'lected Poems (Near York: Harcourt~ Brace &" World, Inc., 1964), pp. 98. 7Elie Wiesel, Night (New York: Bantam Books, oi982), p. 3. Mary:= Our Encouragement in Christ Donald Macdonald,= S:M.M. FAther Macdonald'is~vdil kno~,n to our readers. His=How It Strikes a ContemlJomry" appeared. in the January/February issu~ of ifiis yeai. He may .be addressed at St. Joseph's;,Wellington Road; Todmorden, Lanc,; OLI4 5HP; England. ,, Whatever the origin of the phrase "When the disciple is ready the teacher will appear," it seems to be universally valid. If ! am not using the bread and butter which is immediately at hand, I need not expect nourishment from richer more ex~)tic food to be found elsewhere. It will prove indigestible to a starved or weakened system. Equally, having used whatever is available I am perhaps ready for more_substantial fare. Saint Paul ~aid as much centuries ago: "l fed you with milk not solid food; for you were not ready for it; and even yet you are not ready" (1 Co 3:2). The variety of retreats, seminars, courses on offer to-religious today worldwide can illustrate this. Some go to them looking for what they cannot properly give. Not all take as mui:h as they had hoped back to their everyday lives. By the~ same token it is not unfair t'o say that not all of those offering guidance on these courses are qualified to do ~so. Academically they may be ¯ competent and their teaching technique'acceptable, but, presumably, what the Christian enquirer is looking for is more than a combination:of these two skills. One need scarcely go to a Christian institute for that. This is in no way to denigrate the academic, but to suggest that it may not be enough to throw light on the meaning of Christian existence. To restrict the guidance to that level may be to largely miss the point. With so many voices competing for the religious' time and attention how is one to choose? How best use what may be on offer? In the light of the opening sentence it might be practical to heed its-implicit warning. Rather than first scan the brochures and programs with a view to finding light and encourage-ment elsewhere, why not ask oneself.how one is using the resources of one's 350 Mary: Oub Encouragement in Christ own neighborhood? Supposing I choose to go on a course in a twelvemonth from.now, how can I be sure that I am today making best use of what my ordinary environ-ment offers? This would be a.genuinely worthwhile preparation for wheat is. to come. We are open to so very many influences, from the prophets and evange-lists to the anonymous advertiser and third-rate magazine. What other people think can be a dominant influence, none the less powerful for being much of the timeun.~recognized. Is there, therefore, a Christian influence for good in my local area that I-have not tapped and, maybe, ignored? Undoubtedly; there may be several, but I wish to suggest that, unfortunately, perhaps Our Lady may be such for some of us. This is regrettable as "Mary. is. clearly a teacher of the spiritual life for individual Christians."~ A Guide Must See For anyone to,offer guidance presumablyone ~nust see ~A light speaks i'or itself. Arguably one reason for the lack of vocation and commitment among some re!igious is that they, do not see. "As our Congregation is now I,would not encourage anyone to join," is a remark widely heard: A sister at-a gathering of religious,was struck by the sad, tired, almost featureless faces of so many. She thought,of~her.mother and sister who had,lived particularly hard lives, yet seemed,,younger and more alive than her.religious sisters about her.Within such a context~it is unrealistic to call people to follow when self-evidently they do not see the way: "If the tru~mpet gives an.uncertain note, who will get ready for battle?" (1 Co 14:8). ~ There is a degree of insecurity in all of us. The~best of us has but partial vision, "for we walk by faith not by sight~ (2 Co. 5:7). It is all the more encouraging therefore to live in the company of a woman who has known the ¯ fearful insecurity that day-to-da~ life can present, and within that situation,has seen God. "Blessed are the pure of heart ,for they shall see God", (Mt .5:8). Our Lady, immaculate from the moment .of her conception has, therefore, never been coarsened by sin, and has been given in full measure the blessing of seeing God. Her heart was a sheer capacity to receive whatever God would give her: "Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with you., for he who is mighty.has done great things for me" (Lk 1:28, 49). She is thus alert and alive to God ~eyond anything we can understand. So full of the Holy Spirit, that the Word of God once taken root in her heart became enflesl~ed in her body, so that "the child to be born will be called holy, the Son ofGo'd" (Lk 1:35). No creature has ever assimilated the Word of God so complete!y "a.s the Holy Mother of God and the worthy Associate of the Redeemer."2 In other words, "God who had special!y, chos~n~me ~vhil~ still in my m~ther's v~omb, called, me through his ~race hnd chose to reveal hi~'Son in me" (Ga 1:15). If those words ar,,6 true of aul whht d~ they say of Mary? Her entire person is "clothed i~God'i ~hb, i,n her case especially, has taken every thought . . . prisoner, captured to be brought into obedience to Christ" (2 Co 10:5). So, at one with the will of God 352/ Review for Religious, May-June, 1985 that she is instrumental, in the providence of God, in bringing into~the world a .neck creation in her Son: "For anyone who is in Christ ther~ is a new creation; the old creation has gone, and now the new one is here. It is all God's work" (2 C,o 5:17). She is'the mother of God, a new creation in Christ. Following the biblical tradition, one so pure must see so Clearly. It is God's Spirit who enlightens."The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will Overshadow you" (Lk 1:35), says it all, Her eyesight she shares with most of us. Her insight isa giftfrom God. The unutterable, andin her case, unfettered holiness of God is so present to her, "that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit Within you which you' .have from God. You are not your bwn" (1 Co 6:19). So the Spirit generates the capacity~to See God every-where in a sacramental world, from the joyful expectation of the ~birth-of her Son, to standing crucified with him on Calvary. To see is, therefore, not necessarily to understand, butto b-eliex~e whole-heartedly arid commit oneself totally to God present in every circumstance, so "that I might live to God, I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I wh6 live;~but Christ Who lives in me; and the life Inow live in the flesh I lix~e by ;faith in the Son of God who lo~ed me and gave himself for me" (Ga 2:19-20). Once true of St. Paul, how much more of Our Lady? Her humanity really earths her among us ~s her faith, and so her insight, finds her blessed among us all. She believed, entrusted God with the gift of herself--"Lo me, God's hand: mayd~'---in the lovelywords of Julian of Norwich's translation which seem to express the. courage in vulnerability of every young person with life before them.3 The result is a person wholly "dead to sin and alive,to God in Christ Jesus" (Rm 6:11~). As such, she will leave an enduring mark on the human race, representing light for so~ many as over the centuries "deVotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary is an indication of the 'Church's genuine piety., because it takes its,origin and effectiveness from Christ~ finds its complete e~pression in Christ, and leads'through Christ in the Spirit to the Father.TM Much of this is beautifully focused in Psalm 131. She,might have sat for the portrait,~ ~ O Lord'my heart is not proud nor haughty my eyes. ~ I have not gone after things too great ',n,or marvels beyond me.~ Truly I have set my soul in silence and peace. As a child has rest in its mother's arms, :even so is my soul. " This is the mind of one ~ho sees. Thei~e is no~ a :superfluo~s .word. Eve'ry-thin~ per~pheraihas been stripped away leaving a faith which is'real without b~i~ig"~m~talli~:. MuCh (hat th~ world might ~c~ffei" has been seen and seen through. There is no ~uggestion' bf fear of life, ri~the~ its 'acceptance. :~'Hae 'po~t fiyes life,, takes his stahc~ ~th~n it, not escaping from it. Silence and peace are both powerful and positive possessions'~sugg~ting Mary: Our Encouragement in Christ'/ ~great assurance--in the poet's cage, in God'. His faith is such that it best expresses itself in the child asleep in his mother's arms, the symbol offserenity and trust~ We will never know the price thepsalmist paid for such faith, but the image he presents unmistakably reflects the genuine article. This is why it can speak to us of Our Lady. It is the single gaze of one who looks oh life,from within the vantage point of faith in God, in h~er case, "because God by calling you has joined you to his Son Jestis Christ; and God is faithful" (1 Cb 1:9). Here is the"un~hanging core of changing circumstances: The, religirus looking for a guide to Christian living could' gain much if willing to open themselves to such~agaze "an immense reservoir of silence and pe~ice tested b~y life. The Blessed Virgin Mary offers a calm vision and a reassuring word to modern man."5 This comes from the heart of existence, as Christian reality would have us see that "you are the body of Christ and individually, members 6f it. If bne member suffers, all suffer togethei'; if one member is honored all rejoice together" (1 Co 12:26-27). Remarkably; both Our Lady and the individual religious are "neither male nor,female; for you all one in Christ Jesus" (Ga 4:28). Whatever concerns one concerns the other, and prirticularly in Our Lady's case, the law of the body is lived to "owe no one anything except to love one another" (Rm 13:8). This governs the interchange between them, taki.ng nothing away from ~her preeminent place in the com-munion of saints."6 It isall of a unity as in a living body, yet neither loses their identity. The medium of exchange is knowledge and love heightened in grace, and nothing in human experience is more personal than that. - So the image of mother ~nd child, powerful in any culture, represents a genuine Christian reality. It needs only to be seen to be understood:~ ~and going into the house they saw the child with Mary his mother" (Mt 2:11). :~.'. "But standihg by the cross of Jesus [was] his mother" (Jn 19:25), one in flesh and spirit with her Son"at so many levels. ,, "In the Virgin Mary everything is relative to Christ and dependent upon him. 7 That same stance in Christ sh~ takes with us today--however life treats us: The compassionate mother, "so oned in love" ~'ith us in her Son, not least in our suffering and insecm'ity, can bring a depth' of realism to~ the present moment which can transform it in faith.8 Hilaire Belloc superbly expresses what many have seen when, incensed ata Protestant bishol5 ordering the removal from a church of a statue of "a female figure with a child," he felt impelled to respond: Prince Jes~s in mine agony Permit me, broken and defiled Through blurredand glazing eyes to see A female figure with a child. "Ballade of Illegal Ornaments" This is, of course, the prayer of one who sees one of the most comforting realities of the Catholic faith. The vision is from within the everyday Christian community. Belloc's singular poetic gift may express it, but it stems from his common Christian faith. Reality really is like that. There is a realism, purity, ~.354 /Rg.viewfor Religious, May-June, 1985 warmth and concern in the engagingyulnerability and strength of mother and cliild that can clarify the Christian °vision. H,~ere the religious ~n stay today, making grateful, explicit acknowledgme_nt in wooder, that "now the life you have is~hidden with Christ in God. ~.,.~ he is your life" (Col 3:3).,.It is a pr,esent reality not a future hope, seen solely by faith. It is su~,ely no footnote but must follow~ logically, that God having created suc.h a delightful person must-want her known and loved. Clea.rly she means everything to her Son, and whatever the human .race aspires to as all generations call her blessed,.it comes a poor sec0nd~ to how God has loved her in.~Christ. "He wills it to be known ,that all whodeligh(in him should delight in her too, with the same pleasure he has in her and she in him."9 In this instance the medieval~mys.tic only~articulates what the authentic Catholic voice has always known. ¯ G'~do."loved tier for his own sake andhe loved her for our sake too: he gave h~r to himself and he gave her also to us."~0 The disciple was only the first of many who having heard the.crucified Christ say "Behold your mother," from that instant takes her into his own home (see Jn 19:27). For so many she "can walk into the.heart without knocking," as Chesterton said of Doctor Johnson. A Guide Knows The Path An additio.nal, reason for deepening our awareness of the presence of Our Lady is that. because of her calm, God-centered gaze she can help us put together the pieces of a sometimes fragmented life. Part of the ~reason for atte_ndin.g courses and seminars is the hope of learning how to cope with the puzzling present. She, is an ,integral, if ancillary, part of "God in Christ. " reconciling the world, to himself"(2 Co 5:19). She can thus help us see Christ~, ~as~from his conceptiowto ascension and subsequently,,she is intrinsically part of his life, not some external charitable "meals on wheels'? servic~e. Some seem to,see M~ry as a distraction, almost a maverick, drawing attention away from what God has done for us in Christ. So, for example, a London based journalist once wrote of the visit of Pope Paul VI to Fatima,that this wasa clear sign that he should resign. By going there the pope showed that he was obviously afraid of, the contemporary.world and for the Church's place in it, and so he visited ,Fatima as a man might regress to childhood when the adult world becomes all but unbearable. , One did wonder at this opinion when newspapers carried reports oLa million or so people at Fatima at the same time as the Holy Father. One should, of course, be careful of countingheads, but it might ~have given the journalist pause, pontificating from a typewriter in London, exercising power without the responsibility which burdened the pope, to consider whether at least some of those pe0ple~saw something which he did not? "Devotion to the ~Mother of the Lord becomes for the,faithful an opportunity for~growing in divine~grace, and this is the ultimate aim of all pastoral activity."~ Another ,journalist, writing of the present pope's evident ttevotion of, Our Mary: Our Encouragement in Christ / .355 Lady, sees it as something specifically of the man, and not for the' ChUrch. It stems, the journalist"believes, from losing a sick mother when he was nine, -having no sisters, and the on the whole harmful influence of Saint ~Louis-Marie de Montfort'steaching, as well as the particular history of Poland/,Although Pope~ John Paul is a twentieth-century figure, because of~his backgroimd, and not"least the tragic history of Poland leaving such an individual ma'~k on his devotion to Our Lady, "the rest of us can only look on admiringly and wonderingly.''~2 Again, should one be surprised at the journalist writing~so confidently and patronizingly for "the rest of us," speaking presumably for the Christian Catholic world? It is just possible that the pope; too, carl assess the psychological, theological and national influences on himself at least as well as~ the journalist, and has come to a different conclusio~i. One might also consider that whatever influences produced such a twe~ntieth-century Christian man, might be welcomed in a cofitemporary Church suffering i~large part from loss of nerve. Journhlisti~ opinion,is legitimately free. It is un]'air to the'writbr and unwise of the reader to read it as Gospel. o One recalls thejou~rnalist G. K. Chesterton writing of Mary and thdconvert. He came across a rather garish image' of Our Lady in Italy when he wa~ hot yet ¯ a Catholic. "I never doubted that thig was the figure of the ~Faith; that she embodied as a complete human bein~ still only human all that this Thing had to say to humanity. The instant I remembered the Catholic Church I remem-bered her; when I tried to forget the Catholic Church I tried to forget her; when I finally saw what was nobler than m~y fate;the freest and liArdest~of all my'actsbf freedom, it was in front o'f a gilded and very gaudy little imhge of her in'the port of Brindisi that I promised the thing thht 1-would do if I returndd tO my own land."~3 Chesterton delighted ifi the title'0f Catholic and journalist, and Our Lady did:not ~'ragment the faith ,for him. Of course one might research Chesterton's pdsgibly romanticiz6it picture of~ English history, ~is attachmi.~nt to Geoffrey Chaucer, his domestic circumstan-c~ si andso construct an explanation of why.he believed as he did. But ~iould that tell the whole story? OneO~an build'virtually anything on ass~mptidn and inference. The subjective is in the eye of thebeholdei'-.-and assess'0r, tbo ~' wh6 ventures what is at l~e~t an0educated guess. Meanwhild' life ig to be li~ed~= ~2hesterton could never have kept his feet and 'his humor in'his contemporary~ wdrld ona diet of rom~intici~srri, no more than Woiild ~the present pope who tias been brought up in a particularly hard ~cho01. Such men-know'what :the~ believe. Life has tested it. In every individual Christian experience, surely space has to be allowed for" the'presence of the Holy Spirit. This0is~the one Constant factor in everyorfe's life which can never be properlyasgessed. The column may add up to Our satisfac-tion, but in any account of the individhal Christian life the ~fnswer can only be provisional',~a~ so aiuch" can never be known, "for the Spirit reaches, the'depths of everything,~even the depths of G6d . 'Now instead of the spirit of the world we have received the Spirit that comes from God; to teach us to under, 356 /"Review for Religious, May-June, 1985 stand the gifts that he has giyen us" (1 Co 2:!0, 12). The Spirit gives light enabling us to see. If those words are true of the ordinary Christian and Corinth seemed encouragingly full of such pe0ple.---what do they say of Mary? . They speak .volumes for ourselves. They deserve~ time for wonder, reflection and assimilation. Consider a woman who never at any instant put self-will in the way of t6e Spirit's enlightening, energizing presence? As ever, the best that can be sai~ of the Christian is preeminently true of her, as ~'God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit which has been given to us"- (Rm 5:5). Here lies the key to Our Lady as a guide to the Christian, helping to find a ,w9y among so many conflicting paths. Many, enlightened by that same Spirit, "above all . . . had recourse to the Virgin,s intercession in order, to obtain from the Spirit the capacity for engendering Christ in their own souls,"~4 She is~ seen radiating the glory of God. There is no suggestion of the esoteric or the Gnostic. Mother and child imply responsibility. Their needs are .imme-diate and practical. The religious, enlightened by the Spirit to respond to such a God-given presence, will be none the worse f6r the cold douche of realism such company brings. God,is always, in th~ situation but never at our beck and call. Mother and Son have walked every step of the road on earth, "obedient unto death, even death on a cross" (Ph 2:8). Familiarity in their case breeds affection and compassion enc.ouraging us to integrate life in faith. A Guide Leads Home Finally, besides helping the religious to see an~l integrate life in God, Our Lady can also reflect the radiance of God's glory. As with the earlier word "delight, fu!," "radiant" is not immediately associated with faith. This isin part because., while the transcendent is real, it is continua~ lly neglected though never in Our Lady's c.omEany. Her personal experience of God left an unfor-gettable imprint upon her. "For:it is the God whq said, 'Let light shine out of darkness,' w.ho has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge.of the glory of God inlthe face of Christ" (2 Co 4:6). ff the impa, ct of God in Christ ¯ on Pau~l can~, only be compared to the creation of light, what do those words say "of the Blessed Virgin's free consent and cooperation in the plan. of redemption .w)5 Realityis Christ-centered. Everyone and everything is illumined by his light enab~ling us to see what God islike (glory). The present.moment is then transformed. We need such light to see what,is really ~there, to begin to gfimpse Christian existence. OutLady's .strong, selfless, evocative presence can only help, "for it is not ourselves that we are preaching, but Christ Jesus as the Lor.d, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake" (2 Co 4:5). The words are Paul:s_but the sentiments Mary's too. There is the perspective in which she lives one person in Christ with ourselves. The contemporary religious does not have, a.surfeit of authentic Christian support t9 afford to neglect such a person. And this, let it~be empfiasized, is to be-found in the heart of the Church now, quite literally for the taking. When Paul then goes on to marvelously outline what should be basic Christian experience if only we ~.w,~.h_e speaks Mary: Our Encouragement in Christ / 357 above all for Our Lady, as indeed he speaks for us: "And we with .our'unveiled faces reflecting like mirrors the brightness of the Lord, all grow brighter and brighter as we are turned into the image that we reflect; this is the work of the Lord who is Spirit" (2 Co 3:18). Here is genuine Christian visior~, tl~'e'meaning of religious life. The glory of God in Christ transfigures us progrdssively insofar as we ar~ open to the love of God in the present moment~ Life is God giving himself to us in Christ in every circumstance not excluding death. 'Living in faith in Such a world we become like what we see. "Now we are seeing a dim reflection in a mirror; but then we shall be seeing face to face. The knowledge that I have now is imperfect; but then I shall know as fully as I am known" (1 Co 13:12). That knowledge and vision Our Lady now enjoys t~afisfigured in God. The religious might wish that of the many influences on him~known or unknown, the light of God in such a person might not be the least, "for it is impossible to honor her who i~ 'full of grace' (Lk 1:28) without thereby hofior-ing in oneself the state of grace, which is friendship with God, communion with him and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. It is this divine grace ~vhich takes possession of.the whole man and conforms him to the image of~ the Son of God. (Rm 8:29; Col 1:18)."~6 ~ Living like this implies that contemplation is basic. "Contemplative" does not mean arcane, esoteric, unreal. It is the attempt to live in the present, aware of what~is there; alive to God in Christ now, rather than pining for.a past memory or future hope. Wherever we are God is. The conteml61ative sees the connection. Categories of timd, place, occupation, structure, people, no longer 'shackle as the moment is transfigured in Christ. To the outsider with no faith, it may seem to be attempting to rationalize a welter of characters and evefits into a rather complex artificial plan, rather like the coach planning tactics before a game. But given faith working through love (see Ga 5~6), the Christian finds it progressively simple, though not easy, rather like the player moving almost by reflex once tlie game begins. The time for discussion,is over. Nowis the time for action. To be effective.the need is for interior silence,~stillness and assimila-tion or how else can ond r~cognize what is happening? If there'is,no center only'the peripheral can register. The world of Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven might be accessible inthe room in which this is being read, but unless the radio is turned on, and turned to the correct wavelength, it will n~ver be heard.To be unaware of such a world is a pity. To be conscious of it, yet unwilling or unable to switch-it on is real impoverishment. Religious life today may be a Chastening experience, though none the worse for that, perhaps humiliating us~ as we~at last see that nowo~'my one hope and trust is that I shall never have to admit defeat, but that .now as always I shall have the courage for Christ to be glorified in my body whether by my life or by my death. Life to me of coursb is Christ" (Ph 1:20-21). We need~help. We have help if only we see what i~ there. Looking elsewhere for guidance in seminars, retreats and courses is sensible and worthwhile, all things being equal, but, as 1 have tried to suggest, perhaps &~$ / Rey~w for Religious, May, June, 1985 secondary. Even the qssential restructuringof religious~ life may do more for the .system than for the individual~if it leaves me untouched (see, Perfectae Carita-t/ s, n. 4).~A rebuilt community reflecting subsidiarity, psychological well-being .and~pr.acti~! relevance may not be ,enough for meaning eyen if it is for occupatign.~ The danger lies in taking my identity from what I am doing or ot.ber people's estimate of what I am doing. As has been seen so.often these past twenty ye~.rs or s0, once circumstances c~hange, so, too,, can the religious, who~:~nhappily, fiod themselves virtually naked, alone and afraid as the struc-ture which gave th~em stability changes yet again. Their identity came essentially from 0u~ide of th~emselves. What does one do? Build another structure? -.Yes, in part, but as an imperfect person in an imperfect world I cannot expect too much from that. The new model is using the same all too familiar building material. Much better, surely,~to~shouldo'~.more personal responsibility as did Our Lady, who, "in her own,,Particular life, she fully and responsibly accepted the will of God (see Lk 1:38). the first and the most perfect of Christ's disciples."~7 As i cannot realistically legi.slate for anyone else, what room for maneuver, do I have myself?. The scope is immense. ~. . A contemplative reading of the Gospel might suggest that the worid is harsher than,ever we believed possible. Our Lord, we recall, was_crucified with his mother ~s~nding beside him. That is horrific and all too recognizable today. The patterh '.is plainly set out in the Gospel, "for we were so utterly and un~bearably crushed that we despaired of life its'elf., but that was.to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead; he delivered us. '~ and he .will deliver us; on him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again" (2 Co 1:8-10). Note the tenses of those verbs! There speaks authentic Christian experience up to and including the present day. Perhaps I have to make-that experience mine as did Our Lady, St. Paul and countless others? It is a recurring cycle and can ferrify the individual"botl~ in fact and in anticipation. The natural tendency is to run away to another job, anotheg~course, another structure, another place, another explanation. While very understandable, the Gospel does not suggest that salvation is found in that. If there~is any validity in what has been written here, why not look within ones~elf? Since I am christened, perhaps there is more going for me than-I have yet known? God is in every sit .uation everywhere. God is to be glimpsed in.Our Lady~ Saint Paul, the sisters who taught me catechism as a child, and in so many mo~. True, God needs none of these to reach me, no more~than he need use Church or sacrament. But I do need guidance, encouragement and vision. .I need_ .light. Inevitably this means that I need people: ~for .I longto see you . twant to be among you to receive encouragement myself through the influence of'your faith on me as of mine on you" (Rm4:l 1-12). ~ .Left to myself, with my scaled-down model of God made largelY, in my own image, my religious life might be spent with the small changeor petty cash of experience. What a pitiful waste! Whereas with the strong, challenging, Mary:. Our Encouragement 'in Christ understanding presence of Our Lady at the heart of the ~hurch as reflected in the Gospel, I migh[ (will?) find in her_~omp~ny a light which ha§.brought so many to her Son in the centuries of the Church. One in Christ through baptism, even if only partially glimpsed, will show that she is no more of a static fixture in a stained glass window than I am myself. It is not' the juxtaiaosition of immobile figures in a quasi,infinite hierarchy. There is no need to attempt some uneasy collage. That is for a museum not the Church. "Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?. So that as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life?" (Rm 6:3-4). "All of us" are alive in Christ! Our Lady, so graced by God as to be supremely one in him, is therefore especially alive and active. The clo~er one is to Christ the more one is alive and active. She compels no one. She is simply there. As to the cautionary opening sentence of this article--the Christ!an disciple by reason of need alone ought always to be ready for help. Sub tuum praesidium is a very ancient prayer. NOTES ~Marialis Cultus, C.T.S., London: 1974, n. 21. ~ 21bid, n. 15. ~Julian of Norwich, A~Re'velation of Love, ed. M.rGlasscoe, Exeter: 1976, eh. 4. ¯ 4Marialis Cultus, Introduction, pp. 8-9, .'~ .5lbid, n. 57. 61bid, n 28. " 71bid, n. 25. o s Julian of Norwich, op. cit., ch. 18. 9Julian of Norwich, Revelations of Divine Love, e~l. C. ~/oltors, London: 1973, ch.~25. ' iOMari~lis Cultus, n. 56 " ~ ' °. " ~qbid, n. 571 ,2p. Hebblethwaite, "The Mariolo~y of Three P0pes,t' Way Supplement, No. 51, October, '1~984, p. 68. " ~3G. K. Chesterton, The Well, and the.Swallows, London: 1906, p. 176. ~ ,, ~ ~Marialis Cultus, n. 26. ~5lbid~ n. 6.~ : ~Ibid, n. 57. ~Ibid, n. 35. Information to.,Transformation: An Integrated Spirituality for theoReligion Tea cher J. J. Mueller, S.J. Father Mueller came to St. Louis University's Department of Theological Studies in the summer of 1994 from Gonzaga University (Portland) where he had been teaching theology. He may be addressed at St. Louis University; 3634 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, MO 63108. Most articles begin in predictable ways: a statement of purpose, a thesis, a definition, or perhaps a description of the topic ~at hand. This one will be different, not to be different but to shake the cobwebs from what we have become familiar with. Let's begin with a flight of the imagination. Imagine yourself as a visitor from another planet on ~mission to investigate th~ educational habits of earthpeopl~. You have visited the North American continent because it has beautiful blue oceans bordering it which doi~ exist on your pl~anet, and as long as you have to make a long trip in the galaxy you might as well choose a beautiful setting. While fact-finding, you discover that there are two educational systems. You have visited the public school system and now it is time to visit the private system, particularly the Catholic schools. You are beamed down.to from your spaceship to the school (where 5;ou' are piesently teaching). Looking at your school, you as the other-world visitor discover a teacher who does not exist in the other system: the teacher of religion. Your curiosity is piqued. You conclude that by occupation these teachers of religion serve a unique educational role and distinguish the character of Catholic education. Perhaps they have special power in the society? No, it seems that the occupation of a teacher of religion is a powerless job; that more than 99% of the population does not seek the job but wants others to accept the job. Perhaps a teacher of religion cams more money, then, because the job is so selective? No again. 36O o ~ Information to Transformation Religion teachers earn less than most people and even less than fellow teachers. ~Well, perhaps a teacher of religion is a terrible service jobthat no one wants but ."someone has to do it?" Wrong again. The schools themselves state that the reason they are a rival education~il-system is precisely to educate students with rrespect to religion. As a'~isitor from another planet, you are becoming frustrated trying to analyze exactly what the teacher of religion is. Underpaid, overworked, and not receiving the i~ppreciation he deserves, a teacher of religion does not resemble any other occupation. Perhaps, then, a teacher of religion is a kind of spiritml person unique to .this society? No again. Religion teachers seem to be no better or worse thhn anyone else. They don~tbecome presidents or even principals,' let alone bishops or saints. There may not even be a patron saint for religion teachers. Then perhaps religion teachers are like grandparents who keep tradition alive and transmit wise moral norms? Wrong again. Reli-gion teachers are often considered iconoclasts, reactionaries, andparents can be heard to utter the judgment: "They donX teach the doctrine that I learned at school." With the spaceship ready io leave, you have to make the final report. Y6u write, "Religion teache~:s are the most unique teachers inall the earthly world. They function as teachi~rs but are more like spiritual leaders. It ~secms that humans aren't chosen for this role but, instead, a few offer to commit themselves to this role thereby becoming public symbols of what life is all about. By occupation, they seem to represent what is distinctive of Catholic education. They carry the traditions of the earth and at the same time create the possibil-ity of a better future. Perhaps they could be summed up as those in education who work at informing students about the'transforming quality of human life. With this report, the visitor returns to a planetofar, far away. My flight of the imagination has less to do with an exercise of the imagina-tion than a new congtruct by which to appreciate the unique role of the teacher. of religion in our world. Our alien's report that "humans aren't chosen for this role but, instead a few offer to commit themselves to this role"expresses what I think is the essential element in religion teaching and the topic that I wish to address. The teacher of religion is one who commits him or her self to the occupation of transforming others. As a commitment, the occupation most resembles a vocation, i.e., a "calling." We use the word~ vocation in education--for example as in vocational training--to signify occupations. I mean "vocation" both in that sense--a person has, an occupation or job as a teacher, andin the sense of a spiritual charge--a person responds to a faith community to discharge faith responsibil-ities of that community. The teacher of religion then lives the dual role of teacher and minister. it seems to me that some reflection should be done on the integration"of these two responsibilities in light of the commitment. In theological talk we are speaking about'spirituality. Spirituality means the behavioral.living out of. 362 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1985 Christian faith through particular religious convictions and commitments. Although many possible spiritualities exist and more wiil occur, I believe that the teaching of religion makes a consistent claim for an integrated spirituality that brings together the various respon.sibilities, or obligations, ~of a church, school, family, and individual wherein life is interpreted. At the same time the responsibility proceeds in the same manner: from information to transforma-tion. In sum, an integrated spirituality unifies the pr~ocedural dynamic_ within the various communities 'of interpretation. Rather than speak about how to teach religio.n, this presentation focuses upon.the religion~teacher. The concern is not the pedagogy in.the classroom, i.e., how to present material, but how. to live both inside and outside the classroom influenced by the commitment to teaching religion .within a faith community.~The model of spirituality that I offer comes from the model of student-te~acher relatignship of Jesus and hisofollowers: what we call disciple-ship. Discipleship as Jesus defined it in action is.unlike any other. ~The relation-ship between Jesus and his disciples reflects the relation of Jesus to God. Discipleship to~day continues to take as its model the relationship of Jesus to God and the disciples' relation to¯ Jesus. The relationship of Jesus to the F~ather, and the disciples to Jesus has three stages: God calls a person in a given situation, one hears in a situation, and then that person is sent out or what is called missioned. Part I: God Call~ Us ° The first important factor is that the teacher of religion is a Christian who believes. Never is a religion teacher considered a mere communicator of knowledge. The teacher is expected to be living alife of faith. Very~ simply, to live a life of.faith implies an ongoing commitment to the self-communication of~ God. For the Christian, the interpretation of belief resides in Jesus Christ and the power of his life that flows out actively in our own day through the Holy Spirit. The believer then becomes a disciple in the twentieth century in continuity with Jesus' life,.death and resurrection. To be a disciple, according to the synoptic Gospels, implies "to pick up one's cross and follow me." What, is the nature of this cross for disciples? In mode~rn language we~might describe it as the "cross of reality".where God calls us in our situation today. If you will imagine~ ~a cross like Jesus died on. with horizontal and vertical lines, then the disciple, like Jesus. embraces the extremes of each crossbar with most of the body centered in the middle. The four dimensions of the cross of reality are: backward, forward,, inward and outward. These are the four extremes that comprise our situation to hear God and respond accordingly. Backward Backward : means the past. It implies two thousan~l years of Christian tradition inserted into a longer historical tradition wherein .I find myself today. Information to Transformation / 363 I am.born into the :middle of a' story that is unfolding, Hence the weightof that tradition rests upon me. I am an individual believer within that tradition and I possess a communal identity. The teacher of religion is not free to discard this tradition and the identity which, flows forth: whether Scrii~ture, the doctrinal history of the Church, or the history of the Church herself. Because we are constantly being re-created in~ continuity with our past, we .Christians have long memories that speak of .God's continued interaction with us: If ], am. to respond as a disciple today, I :cannot betray.my past. Forward Forward means the future: It implies .that Christians do not stan~d still like settlers but move ever outward like pioneers. As pilgrims "on the way" who journey through life with feet solidly set upon the earth, we seek thekingdom~ of God where love reigns and,empowers everything. Hence~ Christians are-people of hope who depend upon the re-creative actipn of the Holy Spirit to make all things new. The teacher of religion proclaims this forward transfor-mation of life in love as .the purpose of all that we do . ~ Inward . ,~, , ~ ~ -~,~Inward means the individual.° It implies that God has given me_~lJrimary-responsibility over my own self. I make the decision either to center everything in,my life in God or not. My physical environment'which is called a body, my~ psychological and emotional life;and myspirit comprise my inwarddimension. These o.too are influenced~ by-other .factors such as family, chemicals, ~disease, temper~ament and love. Hence, beinga Ch.ristian implies being totally in.touch with the various dimensions of.what constitutes me as a human beingin order to hand everything of my self over to the Lord.The teacher of religion is a believer who continually works on this inward dimension of handing his or her very self totally over to the Lord. - Outward ~ ,~ Outward means other people. It implies all the social relationships which comprise human life. No one is an island and Christian belief never stops with the,individual. It is thoroughly corporate, first in those who believe called church°and secondly in the connect

Issue 42.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1983. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty mem.bers 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. REV|EW FOR RELIGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus,.St. Louis, MO. © 1983 by REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOrdS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year; $17.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year (postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW Fort RELIGIOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor Sept./Oct., 1983 Volume 42 Number 5 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Bivd'.; 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 Rt:vlt:W EOn Rt.~LIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Letters of Gratitude-- II Robert F. Morneau The issue of September/October, 1982, carried the beginning of an experimental series of "Letters of Gratitude" addressed to various authors who have been important to Bishop Morneau's own spiritual development. Reader response has encouraged a continuance of this series. Bishop Morneau may still be addressed at Ministory to Priests Program; 1016 N. Broadway; De Pere, WI 54115. This series of letters of gratitude continues the purpose of an earlier series, i.e. to express my appreciation to certain authors who have enriched my life and to encourage the readers of these letters to read the primary sources of these authors. These Letters of Gratitude are written to Augustine of Hippo, Ra~'ssa Maritain and Dag Hammarskfi~id. Augustine (354-430) shares his innermost life with us in his famous Confessions. This masterpiece speaks to all ages and articulates movements of the inner life. that are universal No one can read this classic without being changed. Raissa Maritain (1883-1960). the wife of Jacques Maritain, has left us two precious treasures in her Raissa's Journal and We Have Been. Friends Together. The first of these works records the daily experiences of a deeply sensitive and spiritual woman; the second work narrates the story of key people who .influenced her own life as well as her husband's. The third letter of gratitude is addressed to a former secretary general of the United Nations. Dag HammarskjSld (1905-1961) was a distinguished statesman and advocate of international cooperation. In his famous Markings, HammarskjSld, candidly and with consummate skill, shared his journey. The depth of his spiritual life and the range of his concern are moving indeed "Two roads diverged in a yellow wood . "so the poet Robert Frost tells us. We cannot travel many roads personally but we can vicariously. And it is on the road that we share many hours of dialogue and rich experience. The 641 642 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 companionship of Augustine, Ra~'ssa Maritain and Dag HammarskjOM is well worth having, if only for a few minutes or a few hours'.; Augustine Hippo, North Africa Dear Augustine, I write in gratitude for the candid and direct sharing of your journey in the Lord. How many hearts have been touched through your confession of sin, confession of God's goodness, confession of deep struggle will probably never be known. But I write you to say that I am one who has been moved and challenged by your story; your conversion has led to my own. ¯ Where to begin? With the people who were instruments of the Lord, with the historical context of time and place, with the struggle toward freedom that drove you from darkness to light? Perhaps the last point presents a pattern that helps to explain the whole. You share well how you were held in the bonds of slavery on various levels. First of all, the slavery of sensuality! Passionate by nature and living in an environment that would activate the seeds of license, you were held fast by the desires of the body. In this darkness. you struggled for so many years and, even after the grace of conversion, continued to struggle violently with concupiscence. In this weakness you found your strength because, in the frustrating powerlessness of it all, you were forced to turn to the Lord for true liberty. God's mercy helped you not to become discouraged in the fight for purity and light. A second slavery, much more binding than the first because so much closer to the heart .of your person, was the hold that your intelligence had on you. If your finite mind could not reason to something, then that something had no value, indeed no existence. Your reason reigned supreme, thus your inability over many years to read Scripture. Not conforming to your rigid laws of logic, you lacked the simplicity to comprehend spiritual reality which was immaterial. These chains held you fast and, once again, only through the working of grace, teachers and certain philosophies were you able to be set free and to allow faith to give go. vernance to your rationality. Here we see that your strength became your greatest weakness, keeping you from Truth. The Lord in his own timing drew you into the embrace of love, and there you also found truth and purity. The two slaveries that held you captive, sensuality and rationality, also are the forces that sweep through our times, incarcerating our spirits and our lands. These forces have also moved through every age and thus your autobiography is for every season because it touches so deeply our experience. Letters of Gratitude / 64~1 Your modeling is so important because it reveals that order and peace can be had, that slavery excludes true happiness, that victory can be achieved with effort and grace. ¯ Just as you have touched many lives, likewise many people had a powerful hand in shaping your mind and heart. I think of your mother, Monica, loving, praying and pursuing you in great fidelity. God rewarded her and you with that powerful experience at Ostia--sheer grace. I think of Ambrose, bishop of Milan, whose fatherly tare and keen sensitivity helped you to work through your intellectual crisis. I think of the life of St. Anthony whose example of deep asceticism and total commitment caused your heart to burn for action. I think of Adeodatus, your brilliant son, whose death caused your heart such deep. grief. I think of your concubine and her deep love and fidelity toward you, severed from you by the dictates of culture--whatever did happen to her? I think of Alypius, your dear friend, with whom you shared so deeply and who later became bishop of Tagaste, your home town. I think of St. Paul whose writings helped to finalize your conversion. This awesome compahy made their mark; your receptive spirit eagerly took in their gracious gifts. Several incidents in your life are symbolic of deep patterns. The stealing of pears, relatively insignificant in and of itself, reveals the mysterious realm of motivation--to steal not because of the fruits but because of peer pressure. In narrating this event, you manifest a profound grasp of human psychology, a deep grasp of self-knowledge. You teach us here to go beyond our actions and thoughts .and to discern the deeper recesses of our,behavior: moving from the "what" to the "why," which in turn reveals our true values. Then you share that powerful mystical experience, communal in nature, that you and Monica had shortly before her death. Together in conversation you entered deeply into discussing and experiencing the dwelling place of God, already tasting in this life what was to be forever. How you must have treasured that moment throughout the rest of-y.our life, a touchstone experience against which to judge your many future dec~slons. Then you speak of reading Cicero's Hortensius, a work that inflamed your soul in its search for wisdom. Herein we see the importance of a single book in our lives, able to set us in a direction never before pondered. You tell further of Alypius' compulsion in regard to gladiatorial shows; how this otherwise kind and learned man was held captive by a game. In this you were taught a lasting lesson, one that touched the core of your person: freedom is a precious gift that must be carefully tended or it is lost. Given all these circumstances and people, the most compelling reality in your life was the ever present hunger you had for God--more accurately, God's hunger for you. Your sensual and intellectual passions and avarice could not be satiated; always you came away empty and unfulfilled. It was your spirit that ached for meaning and presence, the meaning and presence of a Person. Only God could fill you but the sensuality and rationality had to accept that radical poverty of spirit that makes room for God. The charting of your 644/ Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 journey, with the carefully described anguish and pain that necessarily accompany growth, is a helpful log for all of us, your fellow pilgrims. Your legacy has been prodigious." ~)61~mbs of comprehensive theology, vas~ and subtle philosophical reflection, powerful exegesis on the word of God, stirring exhortations, a model for community living, moral discourses of a challenging nature. But for me your greatest legacy is your humanness. Within the genius of cognitive excellence, we find a human heart that is torn and twisted by the winds of human experience. Your confessions are free from pretense, from the too common masking that infects most of our lives. For this the centuries are in your debt. You tell us that it is possible to reach the heights of holiness within the maze of failure and trial, within the morass of sin and slavery. You brought all of your life, n° part being excluded, to the Lord, and he healed and blessed you. It was your heart and not your head that became the portal for divine encounter. Your desire and passion for love was, at bottom, the key to your life. The only regret that I sensed came from your late loving. As long as history lasts, these words will touch the human heart: Too late have I loved you, O Beauty so ancient and so new, too late have I loved you! Behold, you were within me, while I was outside: it was there that 1 sought you, and, a deformed creature, rushed headlong upon these things of beauty which you have made. You were with me, but I was not with you. They kept me far from you, those fair things which, if they were not in you, would not exist at all. You have called to me, and have cried out, and have shattered my deafness. You have blazed forth with light, and have shone upon me, and you have put my blindness to fligh!! You have sent forth fragrance, and 1 have drawn in my breath, and I pant after you. I have tasted you, and I hunger and thirst after you. You have touched me, and I have burned for your peace. (254-255) Your fond admirer, RFM Death language My heart was made dark by sorrow, and whatever 1 looked upon was dea-th.~ My native place was a torment to me, and my father's house was a strange unhappiness. Whatsoever I had done together with him was, apart from him, turned into a cruel torture. My eyes sought for him on every side, and he was not given to them. 1 hated all things, because they no longer held him. Nor could they now say to me, "here he comes," as they did in his absence from when he lived. To myself I became a riddle, and 1 questioned my soul as to why it was sad and why it afflicted me so grievously, and it could answer me nothing. If I said to it, "Hope in God," it did right not to obey me, for the man, that most dear one whom she had lost, was more real and more good to her than the fantasy in which she was bade to hope. Only weeping was sweet to me, and it succeeded to my friend in my soul's delights. (98) 1 had learned from you that nothing should be held true merely because it is eloquently expressed, nor false because its signs sound From The Confessions of St. Augustine, translated and annotated by J. G. Pilkington, M.S., by permission of Liveright Publishing Corporation. All rights reserved, 1943. Letters of Gratitude / 845 Prelense Fear Anger Disposition Integration Friendship harsh upon the lips. Again, 1 learned that a thing is not true because rudely uttered, nor is it false because its utterance is splendid. I learned that wisdom is like wholesome food and folly like unwholesome food: they can be set forth in language ornate or plain, just as both kinds of food can be served on rich dishes or on peasant ware. (119:120) That man of God (Ambrose) received me in fatherly fashion, and as an exemplary bishop he welcomed my pilgrimage. I began to love him, at first not as a teacher of truth, which 1 utterly despaired of fir~ding in your Church, but as a man who was kindly disposed towards me. (130) But as often happens, just as a man who has had trouble with a poor physician fears to entrust himself even to a good one, so it was with my soul's health. (138) What another man would take as an occasion for anger at me, this sincere young man took as a reason for becoming angry at himself and for loving me more ardently. Long ago you had said and had inserted it into your books, "Rebuke a wise man, and he will love you." (143) From experience, 1 knew it is no strange thing that the bread that pleases a healthy appetite is offensive to one that is not healthy, and that light is hateful to sick eyes, but welcome to the well. (174) It is one thing to behold from a wooded m~untain peak the l~nd of peace, but to find no way to it, and to strive in vain towards it by unpassable ways, ambushed and beset by fugitives and deserters, under their leader, the lion and the dragon. It is a different thing to keep to the way that leads to that land, guarded by the protection of the heavenly commander, where not deserters from the heavenly army lie in wait like bandits. They shun that way, like a torture. In a wondrous way all these things penetrated my very vitals, when I read the words of that least of your apostles, and meditated upon your works, and trembled at them. (180) Let a brother's mind do this, not a stranger's mind . Let it be that brotherly mind which, when it approves me, rejoices over me, and when it disapproves of me, is saddened over me, for the reason that, whether it approves or disapproves, it loves me. To such men will I reveal myself. (23 I) II Ra~'ssa Maritain France Dear Ra~sa, I write in gratitude for the insights and sensitive reflections that are contained in your journal and autobiographical writings. I have read them with excited interest and deep admiration. My only hesitancy in picking up 646 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 your journal was my concern as to whether or not you really wanted it read; your husband Jacques and your friends decided after much thought to publish it. Though questioning the principle behind their decision, I in no way question the advantages that flow from such intimate conversation. A most powerful pattern expressed in your journal revolved around the .experience of suffering. I refer both to its intensity and pervasiveness. Not having had such experiences, 1 doubt that I comprehend its full import or the depth of such pain. What seemed to be central to such a way of life is your ability to accept, in grace, that suffering as part of God's plan and, in some way, to be able to identify with the Lord in the tasting of the pain. Otherwise the result could well have been deep resentment and hostile anger. You have taken a universal human experience and dealt with it in a healthy way. Such modeling is important in an age that tends to flee from all suffering at any cost. I have tasted and now savor your response to this path of pain; your courage throughout the ordeal is inspiring. I reflect, too, on your sister who lived with you and your husband. Unheralded, without great talent, fulfilling the role of servant, she represents an entire core of people in higtory who, through their quiet dedication and humble service, have made it possible for others to be creative and productive. Your sister was fortunate in being appreciated for who she was and what she did, an uncommon fate for many like her. These unsung heroes and heroines whisper of the many flowers that are "born to blush unseen." How did you come to integrate your personal relationships so well? Did it involve a painful struggle? In reading your journal it becomes obvious that God had priority in your life; he was indeed the ground of your being; all of life's meaning came from your deep faith. Yet, from other reflections you have shared, your husband Jacques and other individuals were extremely close to you as you were all friends together. Theoretically this is no problem: love for God and our fellow creatures is certainly not exclusive. Yet on the practical level, given the reality of making choices that necessarily exclude other options, such balance in our lives is not easy to come by. Perhaps you could send me further reflection on this. Two incidents from your life impressed me deeply. One was the time you and Jacques were studying at the university in Paris and in your searching were unable to find sufficient meaning for life. So intense was the search that you both opted for suicide, if you could not find meaning. Such was the seriousness of your endeavor and such was the grace given by God that you discovered Thomistic thought. Cpming out of this rich theologic and philoso-phic loam you were to find a perspective sufficiently sustaining that suicide no longer remained an option. Our own age stands in need of meaning-systems to provide us with a reason to live, a reason to die. The great metaphysical and cosmological questions continue to haunt the human mind and heart, prodding us until some type of resolution is found. Too often suicide becomes a "viable" option. Recently I heard of several people who had picked up some Letters of Gratitude of Jacques' works. He has become an instrument for passing on a wealthy tradition enabling the human spirit to deal with movements towards insight and hope. Your personal contributions to the poetic world have served the same purpose. The second incident that sounded a chord in me was the remark that Bergson made to you: "Always follow your inspiration." What a challenging statement, one not free from danger as he realized when sometime later he commented that he could not say that to just anyone. Your interpretation of the advice was to always act freely so that your true self could emerge. What wisdom when we are in touch with our deepest selves; what danger when, on some superficial levels, our personality seeks expression regardless of the effect on ourselves or others. At bottom, in a faith context, our inspiration is not really ours but the Lord's. Without knowing it, Bergson became an instrument of God calling you to foster and nourish a discerning heart, a core element in the development of the spiritual life. Inspiration is a fact, a part of everyone's experience; how it is interpreted and whether or not it is responded to depends upon the disposition of each person. You responded well to the movements of God's Spirit. Simplicity, as a virtue and way of life, was a constant call for you. What simplicity as well as its sister, purity, mean, boggles my mind. Certainly they are inseparable but they contain such mystery and are so grace-laden that it is hard to describe their essences. To will one thing, to be transparent, to possess unmixed motivation and a sense of detachment--all of these are hints and clues. Only experience allows their meaning to enter the heart. By contrast, complexity disrupts our !onging for the simple as compromise discolors the pure stream of love. Testing the reverse side of the coin draws us painfully into the poverty of our lives. Your writings are expressions of deep honesty. You state what you feel and think, not what others might expect you tO say. In going before God, you bring your real self, warts and all. In dryness of spirit you bring your emptiness and nothingness before the Lord. In the joy of friendship, you recognize its source with gratitude. All these reflections center on one thing: truth. Again the confidence that truth can be comprehended; certitude is possible. With the truth comes freedom from moral, psychological, and spiritual paralysis. Time and again the hunger and thirst for truth, which at bottom is that infinite desire for God, emerges and demands constant bnergy. You, your husband and friends were searchers; your find has been graciously shared with us. Three loves helped to shape your life: theology, philosophy and poetry. Many individuals helped give you insight into these three loves: Thomas Aquinas, Plotinus, Augustine, Pascal, Bergson. My heart rejoices to find the formative influence of poetry in your journey: It brings the soaring and majestic flights of theological insight and philosophical reflections back to the concrete and specific. This happy triumvirate makes for a well-rounded disciple of the Lord. 641~ / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 You were a part of an exciting movement within the Church. The goal was a quality spiritual life based on strong principle and dedicated service. One senses the importance of community and friends in such an adventure. Herein is a lesson for our times: spiritual growth happens through deep participation with and among a community of believers. The search is painful but the joys are deep. Your contribution has not been forgotten; more, it continues to touch many hearts. Deep peace always, RFM Ego Virtue God Envy God Peace Truth Experience The ego is an obstacle to vision and possession. (28) Yesterday 1 had a good morning. Once again when I recollect myself, 1 again find the same simple demands of God: gentleness, humility, charity, interior simplicity; nothing else is asked of me. And suddenly I saw clearly why these virtues are demanded, because through them the soul becomes habitable for God and for one's neighbor in an intimate and permanent way. They make a pleasant cell of it. Hardness and pride repel, complexity disquiets. But humility and gentleness welcome, and simplicity reassures. These "passive" virtues have an eminently social character. (71) I get nowhere by looking at myself; I merely get discouraged. So I am making the resolution to abandon myself entirely to God, to look only at him, to leave all the care of myself to him, to practice only one thing, confidence; my extreme wretchedness, my natural cowardice leaving me no other way open to go to God and to advance in good. (83) A proud man envies the superiority which surpasses him. A humble one, on the contrary, loves good wherever he finds it, and by this love, in some sense appropriates it to himself. I enter into the presence of God with all my load of misery and troubles. And he takes me just as I am and makes me to be alone with him. (225) Sources of peace: God and trees. (328) But before all else, I had to make sure of the essential thing: the possession of the truth about God, about myself, and about the world. It was, I knew, the necessary foundation for my life; 1 could not, without letting the ground be washed away from under me, give up the pursuit of its discovery. Such was my deep instinct. And by assiduous work must I prepare myself to receive the hard secrets of the spirit. All the rest, 1 thought, would follow, would come in its time--music, the sweetness of the world, the happiness of life. (3 I) 1 began to read Plotinus outside class with great joy. Of this reading one single dazzling memory stands out for me, and throws all the rest into shadow. One summer day in the country, I was reading the Enneads. I was sitting on my bed with the book on my knees; reaching Citations from Ra~'ssa "s Journal are reproduced by permission of the publishers, Magi Books, Inc. Letters of Gratitude / 649 lnspiratibn Honesty Fa~h Suffering one of those numerous passages where Plotinus speaks of the soul and of God, as much in the character of a mystic as in that of a metaphysician--a passage I did not think of marking then and which I have not looked for since--a wave of enthusiasm flooded my heart. The next moment I was on my knees before the book, covering the passage I had just read with passionate kisses, and my heart burning with love. (96-97) One day, trembling all over, I went to Bergson to ask his advice about my studies, and even more, no doubt, about my life. It was the first time 1 had ever done anything of this kind. A few words of what he said to me are forever engraved in my memory. "Always follow your inspiration." Was this not to say, "Be yourself, always act freely'?. Much later, when I reminded him of this advice, which 1 had set about following indeed, Bergson, smiling at his imprudence, said kindly: "That was not advice I could have given to many people . "(97) Bloy appeared to us as the contrary of other men, who hide grave failings in the things of the spirit and so many invisible crimes under a carefully maintained whitewash of the virtues of sociability. Instead of being a whited sepulchre, like the Pharisees of every time, he was a firestained and blackened cathedral. The whiteness was within, in the depth of the tabernacle. (I 19) 1 think now that faith--a weak faith, impossible to formulate consciously--already existed in the most hidden depths of our souls. But we did not know this. It was the Sacrament which revealed it to ¯ us, and it was sanctifying grace which strengthened it in us. (178) This question of suffering in Beatitude, and of suffering in God himself, had already been raised by Bloy in Le Salutpar les Juifs. This conjunction of suffering and Beatitude is allowed neither by theology nor by Aristotle. Beatitude means absolute fullness, and suffering is the cry of that which is wounded. But our God is a crucified God: the Beatitude of which he cannot be deprived did not prevent him from fearing or mourning,~or from sweating blood in the unimaginable Agony, or from passing through the throes of death on the Cross, or from feeling abandoned. "Every imaginable violation of what one is accustomed to call Reason can be accepted from a suffering God," says Bloy in Le Salut. (189) III Dag HammarskfiSM c/o United Nations Building, New York Dear Secretary General, I write in gratitude for the markings of your life which you so carefully ¯ noted in your now famous diary. While busy with the affairs of the/world, while leading the United Nations in its struggle for an elusive pea(e, while 650 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 interacting socially and professionally with thousands of people, you took time to trace the movements of your spirit. Did any of your knowledgeable associates suspect the depth (or even existence) of your spiritual life? Was there anyone sensitive enough to feel the pulsating rhythm of your mind and heart? Perhaps their blindness and your own reticence kept too well hidden your dialogue with God and with life. And, as often happens, only after death is life fully manifest! We have the blessing of your journal which tells the story, a story that both inspires and challenges. So many themes! So many movements! The struggle with self and against self not being the least. Enslavement to pride and vainglory that so strongly contended with the haunting desire for self-surrender. Given your giftedness and international recognition, the self found humility no easy virtue. Yet you were able to name the struggle, you were able to admit your intrinsic weaknesses toward egoism and this already provided impetus to new freedoms. What a powerful instrument your journal must have been in this whole process. By it you kept in touch with the truth and that very truth was the gateway to authentic liberation. And even more deeply, within that whole struggle with self, was your relationship with God and your deep faith. Slavery to self was not broken through mere human discipline and strength. At the core of your religious life was the desire for purity and its most noted effect, transparency. No admixture of foreign elements into one's nature, thought or behavior. God was pure; he was love which is the essence of purity and permits transparency. You sought this God in faith, knowing that constant contact with him would bring about a personal renewal. Nor was all this a rugged individualism: all action is social, all holiness involves the well-being of other:s, all are part of a large symbiotic existence. As a youngster, I recall hearing in the dead of night the haunting whistle of the freight train cutting through the darkness with its small beacon of light. So, too, in reading your markings, I sensed the loneliness that is part of the lot of those chosen to lead. Genius and responsibility remove the engine from the rest of the cars and cause a perception among the masses that fails to take into account the real inner self. That loneliness finds expression in your reflections and these reflections come from the silence of the night. Whatever the pain, silence and loneliness are elements in the atomic formula that spell a rich imeriority. Without these qualities superficiality and mediocrity predominate. Every so often we come across vast visions contained in a nutshell; multiple truths captured by an adage; diverse beauty gently painted in a masterpiece. Your prayer is a rich theological gold mine: Give us A pure heart That we may see Thee, A humble heart That we may hear Thee, A heart of love That we may serve Thee, Letters of Gratitude / 651 A heart of faith That we may live Thee. (214) The emphasis is not on the mind or action but on the heart. Herein lies the wellspring of human life: what happens in the heart determines our fate. Thus we truly see when our hearts are pure; we hear for the first time when our hearts are humble; we serve well under the condition that our heart has made room for love; we live in God's piesence if in our heart there dwells the gift of faith. How simple! How profound! How challenging! And all of this is gift: "give us"! Not a selfish prayer made only for one's own growth, but a collective prayer asking for all peoples these gifts of single-mindedness, rich obedience, deep affectivity and spiritual vision. Only so blessed can peace come to the world; all politics must be grounded in spirituality, if any meaning at all is to be had. Resistance is for many of us a way of life. We resist our limitations, we feel hostile to the unknown, we are non-accepting of those things that do not fit into our plans. So much time and energy are consumed through the negative force of resistance that there is little, if any, left over to live a positive life. We shout a continual no to life and wonder why we are not happy. You related how one day you stopped this pattern in your life and shouted (or whispered) your yes. (205) In that moment of surrender all was different, all was new. However ambiguous and undefined this religious experience was--you were not clear as to who even put the question--that leap into affirmative acceptance was the point of conversion. A new person was born that day and with it came the precious gifts of meaning and freedom. What would, be your response to the condition of world government as it exists today? Was all your work worthwhile? Despite the powerlessness of the United Nations, despite the wars that go on daily and the fragile peace in the non-military sections of the planet, despite the narrow supercilious nationalisms causing incredible blindness, your work was not in vain. Your expertise, dedication and world consciousness have made their mark and furthered the cause of peace that is absolutely crucial for the family of man. The ideal has been kept alive and your contributions to the common good are inestimable. Hopefully, others will follow who will carry on this ministry to world peace and justice. The ultimate meaning in life which emerged time and again from your journal is love. Beyond obedience, beyond fear, beyond openness to life is this great force and power of radical care. Without it, division and alienation rage; with it, there comes the joy and peace of those who touch and have been touched by God. The beauty of life is that love found expression in action which you see as "the road to holiness" for our times. You walked it well; may we be but a step behind. With gratitude, RFM 652 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 Friendship Lislening Love HMmor Love Growth Within-hess Purity Holiness Obedience Instrumentality Fa#h Hum~ Every deed and every relationship is surrounded by an atmosphere of silence. Friendship needs no words--it is solitude delivered from the anguish of loneliness. (8) The more faithfully you listen to the voice within you, the better you will hear what is sounding outside. And only he who listens can speak. Is this the starting point of the road towards the union of your two dreams--to be allowed in clarity of mind to mirror life and in purity of heart to mold it? (13) Perhaps a great love is never returned. Had it been given warmth and shelter by its counterpart in the Other, perhaps it would have been hindered from ever growing to maturity. It "gives" us nothing. But in its world of loneliness it leads us up to summits with wide vistas--of insight. (42) A grace to pray for--that our self-interest, which is inescapable, shall never cripple our sense of humor, that fully conscious self-scrutiny. which alone can save us. (43) Our love becomes impoverished if we lack the courage to sacrifice its object. (56) If only 1 may grow: firmer, simpler--quieter, warmer. (93) To be able to see, hear, and attend to that within us which is there in the darkness and the silence. (97) To be pure in heart means, among other things, to have freed yourself from all such half-measures: from a tone of voice which places you in the limelight, a furtive acceptance of some desire of the flesh which ignores the desire of the spirit, a self-righteous reaction to others in their moments of weakness. (109) In our era, the road to holiness necessarily passes through the world of action. (122) Beyond obedience, its attention fixed on the goal--freedom from fear. Beyond fear--openness to live and beyond that--love. (129) Rejoice if you feel that what you did was "necessary," but remember, even so, that you were simply the instrument by means of which He added one tiny grain to the Universe He has created for His own purposes. (143) We act in faith--and miracles occur. In consequence, we are tempted to make the miracles the ground for our faith. The cost of such weakness is that we lose the confidence of faith. Faith is, faith creates, faith carries. It is not derived from, nor created, nor carried by anything except its own reality. (145) Humility is just as much the opposite of self-abasement as it is of self-exaltation. To be humble is not to make comparisons. Secure in its reality, the self is neither better nor worse, bigger nor smaller, than anything else in the universe. It is--is nothing, yet at the same time one with everything. It is in this sense that humility is absolute self-effacement. (174) From Markings, by Dag HammarskjiSld, translated by Leif Sjoberg and W. H. Auden, by pernaission of Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. All rights reserved, 1964. Crisis in Personal Prayer: Reflections of Pope Paul VI J. Michael Miller, C.S.B. Father Miller is an Associate Professor in the Department of Theology of the University of St. Thomas, where he may be addressed: 3812 Montrose Blvd.; Houston, TX 77006. Shortly after his election to the papacy twenty years ago, Pope Paul VI confided to his friend Jean Guitton, "Montini has disappeared, Peter has replaced him."~ Of his interior life, consequently, we know very little: no Journal of a Soul, no published diaries, few unedited notes. The silence that had always surrounded his own life of prayer became absolute after he was elected pope. Nothing undoubtedly would have embarrassed this shy, inward man more than the revelation after his death that he often wore a hair shirt under his white cassock3 The fascinating spiritual biography of the pope who led the Church in its most tumultuous days since the Reformation remains to be written. Can nothing then be said about his prayer life? its difficulties? its structure? its emergence from a soul steeped in the anguish of the twentieth century's alienation and loneliness? Not a buoyant optimist as was John XXIII, Paul VI disappointed those who desired a charismatic, powerful personality to lead the Church in the wake of his popular predecessor. Especially in the last years of his pontificate, his tired and stilted movements (caused by painful arthritis) inspired little optimism. He was accused of being indecisive, lackluster, too progressive and too reactionary. Sharply aware of the "formidable burden" of his office and of his "apparent incommunicability," Pope Paul was thus no stranger to humani-ty's doubts and anxieties. Despite his reticence and his quasi-mystical assump tion of the ministry of Peter, Paul VI has nonetheless left us some reflections on the contemporary crisis in the practice of personal prayer--instructions which he shared with the people of God over the course of fifteen years of catechesis, exhortation, and homily. We can glean from these talks, which he 653 654 / Review for Religious, Sept,-Oct., 1983 wrote himself, some understanding of his own prayer life of which they are an echo. His remarks on prayer spring from a soul enmeshed in this "sad, dra-matic, and magnificent earth," as he described human existence in his last will and testament. The pope was a sensitive and compassionate man whose life of prayer was filled with a serenity and hope which belie those who thought him to be crushed by his own sense of responsibility and the suffering of both the Church and the world. While Pope Paul elaborated no systematic doctrine on prayer or the spiri-tual life, he consistently exhorted the faithful to pray and dedicated numerous discourses to the specific theme of personal prayer. On occasion he set aside for the topic two, three, or even four discourses in succession--as in August 1969, Eastertide 1970, or after Pentecost in 1976. The Holy Year of 1975--its preparation, realization, and aftermath--also stimulated his reflections on prayer. Nonetheless, Paul VI never presented a long and sustained theology on this theme such as that which John Paul II delivered in 1980 on marriage and sexuality in the opening chapters of Genesis. For this article, then, I have organized thematically material drawn from disparate talks over Paul's fifteen-year pontificate (1963-1978). At every point my primary interest is to allow the penetrating insights, concise and chiseled language, and ever-present serenity of Paul VI to speak for themselves: they reveal the contemporary person before personal prayer, the difficulties it entails, and its fundamental conversational structure. Is There a Crisis in Personal Prayer? Not infrequently Pope Paul lamented the declining practice of prayer in the modern world. He noted "with regret that personal prayer is diminishing'~ and that "unfortunately today many people no longer pray, do not pray at all. ,,4 In several discourses on prayer he mentions this decline and uses it as his point of departure: "A simple enquiry on the religious habits of the people of our time would yield sad findings on the complete, or almost complete, absence of personal prayer in a very large number of persons, now alien to, and alienated from, all expressions of inner religious feeling.'~ The crisis reaches "even those who are consecrated to the Lord [who] pray less than was once usual.TM Yet, despite, this grim evaluation of the contemporary situation, Paul VI did not take refuge in complaint. Instead he observed attentively in order to discover the reasons for the decline and, finding the reasons, to encourage hopeful signs wherever they appeared. More the pastor than the judge, he wanted to draw Christians, especially the young, to return to per-sonal prayer. Because Paul VI did not divorce his ministry from service to the world, he sought to reawaken humanity's thirst for the interior life by leading it to dis-cover in its own sterile experience of the world the foundation for prayer. He therefore tried to explain why modern men and women find it so difficult, so joyless to pray. Again and again he returns to his own straightforward ques- Crisis in Personal Prayer / 655 tion: "Why js interior life, that is the life of prayer, less intense and less easy for people of our time, for ourselves?''~ His assessment spurred him to try to ac-count for this unfortunate situation and thereby turn it to pastoral advantage. Reasons for the Crisis While Pope Paul never neatly outlined all the reasons for the contempo-rary crisis in prayer, his many discourses, however, reveal at least five explana-tions which touch the heart of the matter: Exteriorization. According to Paul VI, "we are brought up and educated to live exterior lives.TM A concentration on the marvelous and exciting things of this world has so displaced "equal training in the interior life" that few know its laws and satisfactions. The decline in practice is less a matter of man's deliber-ate unwillingness to pray than of his preference for more gratifying diversions. The ~'fascinating" media of film and television, for example, militate against the cultivation of a prayer life. If these media are watched "assiduously or obsessively," he says, they can "take the place of speculative thought, fill the mind with empty fantasies (see Ws 4:12), and urge it on to what it has seen." The human mind is reduced to the sensory world alone and "exteriorized." Given this situation, Paul goes on to ask, "Where is there any room for spiritual life, prayer, dependence on that prime principle which is God, when the consciousness is habitually crowded with these intruding and often futile and harmful images?"~ This first point is simple: a mind and heart filled with vain images leaves neither room nor interest for prayer. Materialism. A "deluded consideration that reality, the whole of reality, is that of the sense order, that of temporal and material experience" increases humanity's obliviousness to its spiritual depths. Crushed by work, study, and absorption in worldly affairs, we are in danger of closing ourselves to the transcendent, to the call to prayer. When knowledge is reduced to physical and quantitative laws, and God is "excluded as the transcendent Principle of the universe, and therefore also of every free and wise intervention in the world of our experience," Pope Paul then asks, "how could man address a word to the unknown God, try to dialogue with him, invoke his loving Providenc.6?" Whenever nothingness is proclaimed at the summit of the universe, he con-tinues, then people are "made incapable of prayer." Instead they are forced to strengthen the "mystification of self-sufficiency."0 Materialism and secularism lead to "putting prayer out of public life and private habit.TM Scientism. The frequently vaunted capacity of science to explain everything without reference to a transcendent cause calls into question the value of imploring a provident and personal God. Paul VI often follows the Thomistic .nodel of first outlining and then answering objections squarely. He comments, ~or example, that we have "to keep in mind the classic and usual objection nowadays, about the uselessness of prayer for us modern men, who by means of scientific progress have a knowledge of. the cosmos and human life ~hich makes it useless to have recourse to God to intervene in the scheme of causal- 656 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 ity, over which we ourselves either have control or know its fatality." After thus fairly presenting the objection, he answers that science "does not deem the influence of divine action superfluous in the play of natural causes, but recog-nizes it and to a certain extent., postulates it, invokes it, prays to it with increased understanding of divine and human things."~2 Paul VI refused to concede that science and technology could provide a satisfactory excuse for not praying. Rather, he insisted that scientists should not curtail the metaphys-ical and: mystical possibilities raised by the depth and precision of their disci-plines. If honestly undertaken their study should lead them not to silence but to dialogue with their Creator. Lack of a Religious Sense. Coupled with the exteriorization of the human mind, secularism, and scientism is a decline in humanity's "basic religious sense." Without this sense a personal spiritual life is impossible. Even before a person consciously prays, the person must have "that perhaps vague, but deep, mysterious and stimulating sense of God which is the basis of prayer."Is Because this religious sense is the atmosphere from which our thin voices can be raised in prayer, Pope Paul admonishes everyone to "try to find the routes leading to the religious sense, to the mystery of God, and then to colloquy and union with God.TM A world which excludes the mystery and beauty of God sweeps away the foundation of the interior life. Social Activism. Another Pauline explanation for the declining practice of prayer is the false emphasis some Catholics place on social conct~rns. The pope of Populorum progressio (1967) and Octogesima adveniens ( 1971) warned that social activism threatens to displace the interior life of prayer. Those who maintain that charity towards one's neighbor is enough are tempted to regard prayer as an obstacle to action, "as if they were competing for time, now scarce." Quite simply, according to Paul, prayer is "an indispensable coefficient of apostolic action."15 Without prayer, loving communion with Jesus Christ, the Church is unable "to contest a society in which everything is staked on apparent efficiency."~6 Without prayer, the Church would be "some kind of philanthropic humanism, or some sort of purely temporal sociological organi-zation,"~ 7 but it would not be the Body of Christ which worships the Father through the Son in the Holy Spirit. Signs of Hope Despite the "formidable, but false" reasons why many people neither want to pray nor know how to pray nor do pray, the Church remains a "prayer association." It is in and through the Church, according to the pope, that humanity "has found the authentic way of praying, through Christ the sole high priest, that is, the way of speaking to God, of talking with God, of speaking about God."~8 Anchored deeply in the life of the Church and aware of her spiritual fiches, Paul VI was nevertheless able to discern within contem-porary secular experience an opening to prayer that many others brushed aside as irrelevant or unredeemable. Not satisfied with a mere description of the Crisis in Personal Prayer crisis, he always tried to dig deeper, to unravel, to make explicit the implicit, to reveal the hidden. The key to his theological and pastoral method was his indefatigable desire to "rescue" the potential of every twentieth-century philo-sophical and cultural movement--to unearth its latent possibilities. What many perceived as weakness or indecisiveness was really the pope's ability to grasp the multi-sided complexity of the modern world and his seeking to read the "signs of the times." In his discourses on prayer he applied his own method: to bring into focus the ways in which contemporary experience, especially that of the young, has within itself the capacity to promote a loving dialogue with God rather than a monologue with nothingness. Paradoxically, then, the modern spirit contains the seeds of its possible redemption. During the Holy Year, Pope Paul commented on the plausibility of a reaction setting in among young people which would turn them once again to the practice of personal prayer. Spontaneously alienated by the empti-ness of denying God, "these young people come forward, sad and tormented by the need of a real religion, which will make it possible still to talk to God, to pray to him, to know that he is accessible and close, provident and loving."19 Rather than despair at their denial of God and of the possibility and power of prayer, Paul VI chose to encourage them to reach deeper into their own experience and acknowledge their inner thirst for God. At a Wednesday audience two years before his death he said: Is there not, perhaps, at the bottom of the contesting bitterness of so many young people today a state of mind that is lamentation, poetry, invocation, which it seems permissible to classify under the sign of prayer, a sign that has survived the hurricanes of modern disillusionment? Yes, the temple of prayer opens its doors to the men of our time, and they, most certainly, feel that it would be wonderful to go in again. But they are hesitant: how dare they? And how to pray?--they think. It is worthwhile accompanying them and inviting them again to pray with us30 Ever anxious to accompany and encourage, Pope Paul perceived that "a need, an orientation, a sympathy for some form of prayer is being born again in the heart of the present generation.'~ From the experience of alienation can emerge a rekindled interest and thirst for the Living God. Such sentiments are certainly those of a man confident that truth will eventually prevail. In a moving description of the desperation of the young and their world, Paul VI strives to discern in their pleas an unacknowledged but real prayer raised to God. He recognizes in those who "hear no other call but that of a wasteland, on which they have fallen in an attitude of listless sadness to testify to the unhappy emptiness of their existence . a kind of existential moan of their innate desire to live, to survive." He does not hesitate to call this "a prayer; yes, a prayer conscious only of the desperate devaluation of every magnified modern experience, a kind of De profundis, to the atrocious inner torment." Like the Athenians who did not recognize the objective orientation of their longing (see Ac 17:23), so today the young do not often recognize in 65~1 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 their alienation their "innate, anguished need of Life, transcendent, rising again, divine." From out of the depths of this human anguish, according tO the pope, the possibility arises of encountering "a mysterious wayfarer, exhausted under a cross, who repeats his paradoxical but fascinating invitation: 'Come to me! And I will give you rest'" (Mt 11:28).22 In the very cry of those seemingly without God is revealed the first fashioning of prayer. Always intent on reaching to the crux of the matter and belie.ving that the human person "remains radically religious, essentially oriented towards the quest for God, towards a relationship with him, and therefore eager for, and capable of, personal prayer," Paul VI regards the spontaneous cries of the heart as the beginning of authentic prayer, the ''prayer-spark" which "bursts forth from the soul" in an "almost explosive" manner. Even for those untrained in religious conversation such a cry is a minimal, sometimes unno-ticed, expression of the soul's conversation with God.23 In this way, Paul seems to suggest the presence of a kind of"anonymous prayer" in the soul of many of his contemporaries. According to him, the drama of twentieth-century thought leads either to the failure of desolate skepticism or to "a science of God, which cannot remain just inert and passive, but experiences the logic, the vital urge to express a word; a word addressed to God: a call? praise? an attempt at dialogue? In any case, a prayer.'~4 If people would but open their eyes and their mind, they would discover in their own groans the beginning of prayer. Prayer as "Intoxicating Dialogue" Though Paul VI neither provided a manual on the practice of prayer nor described its dynamics in any detail, he frequently recalled the fundamental structure of personal prayer as God's call and an individual's response. The pope often reminds his listeners that even before a word is on our tongue, God himself is within us in "that mysterious and indescribable appointment which God, the one and threefold God, deigns to make with us, for filial and over-flowing conversation within our very selves."25 God reveals himself to us from within; he is closer to us than we are to ourselves. Paul never tired of calling to mind the mystery of the divine indwelling as the condition which makes all praying possible. Everyone needs to learn to pray inside oneself and by oneself, because God is with us inviting and beckoning us to interior.persona! p.m_ y~er. Despite our laziness, our being "slow and restive interlocutors," as the pope says, it is God who precedes and loves and goes in search of us first.26 Paul Vl's emphasis on personal, private prayer stems from his keen awareness that "the essentia! crossroads at which there is a meeting with the religious mystery, with God, is within us, in the interior room of our spirit and in that personal activity we call prayer.'~7 Liturgical prayer can never replace internal awareness and dialogue with the God who encounters us from within. Both God's sending of his Son in the Incarnation and of his Spirit at Pentecost provoke a "listening" in the heart of the believer. After listening to God's invitation, the pope said, "we cannot remain silent and inert" but must Crisis in Personal Prayer / 659 seek to respond.2s Paul VI was fond of referring to prayer as "conversation" or "dialogue"---terms dear to his theological method as it emerges, for example, in his first encyclical, Ecclesiam suam (1964). The simplest raising of the heart to God is already prayer when the mysterious Other is addressed, however inarticulately, as "thou." Nor is the individual disappointed "with the new joy of an intoxicating reply: Ecce adsum; here I am."~9 Prompted by the Spirit to recognize God within, and then to address him, the person is comforted with a reply. God listens. Dialogue unfolds "through filial conversation and concen-trated silence with him."~0 Prayer, then, is simple, austere and loving conversa-tion, an "intoxicating dialogue.TM In an address directed to rekindling the religious sense among men and women of today, Paul describes the dialogue which follows upon a person's awareness of God: Prayer is conversation: a conversation carried on by our personalities with the invisible companion, of whose presence we have become aware: the holy Living One, who fills us with awe and love, the indescribable Godhead, whom Christ (see Mt 11:27) taught us to call Father through his priceless gift of revelation)2 With his customary care to answer objections anticipated in the minds of his listeners, Pope Paul insists that prayer is authentic only when coupled with trust. The fear that our words are "a voice in the darkness" or merely "despair-ing poetry" is real. But once we remember that prayer begins with God and is established by Christ, it cannot be a monologue. Our very response is necessar-ily a dialogue.33 The "essential pattern of prayer" is that of a "conversation between God and the person,"a conversation which arises from a bilateral and beneficial relationship anchored in God's graciousness and an individual's trust.~ This model of prayer is readily accessible to contemporary human experience; it needs only to be'unlocked and directed to the God who waits. Conclusion Thus spoke Paul VI on prayer. To paraphrase St. John (20:30), there are many other things which Pope Paul said about prayer, but they are not ~ecorded in this article: his unceasing encouragement of liturgical prayer as the outflow of personal prayer, his esteem for the practice of simple vocal prayer, his promotion of Marian prayer. All these themes, and many more, together make up the rich legacy ori prayer which the pope bequeathed to the Church. Though not always highly original in his instruction, he taught assiduously the value and need for prayer if contemporary humanity is to survive. Paul VI restated traditional doctrine with a vigor and finesse attuned to our contem-porary self-understanding. More than all else, however, his calm and confi-dence that God is working through our barrenness to invite us to prayer is an encouraging testimony that from the very poverty of our existence might emerge the riches of loving dialogue with the Triune God. 660 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 NOTES ~Jean Guitton, Paul VI secret (Paris, 1979), p. 12. 2Ibid., p. 15. 3The Teachings of Pope Paul VI, vol. 3 (Vatican City, 1971), p. 145 (22 April 1970). All subsequent references are to the collected works published in ~e Teachings of Pope Paul VL I I vols. (Vatican City, 1969-1979, also reprinted by the USCC). The date of the original papal discourse follows in parentheses. 4Teachings 8, p. 86 (30 July 1975). ~Teachings 7, p. 14 (23 January 1974). 6Teachings 2, p. 219 (13 August 1969). 7Teachings 2, p. 220 (13 August 1969). STeachings 2, p. 220 (13 August 1969). 9Teachings 2, p. 228 (27 August 1969). ~°Teachings 8, pp. 8687 (30 July 1975). ~ Teachings 2, p. 223 (21 August 1969). ~2Teachings 7, p. 147 (23 October 1974). ~3Teachings 2, p. 226 (27 August 1969). ~4Teachings 2, p. 228 (27 August 1969). ~Teachings 9, pp. 105-106 (8 September 1976). ~rTeachings 8, p. 415 (12 November 1975). ~TTeachings 3, p. 144 (22 April 1970). ~STeachings 3, p. 143 (22 April 1970). ~gTeachings 8, p. 87 (30 July 1975). ~°Teachings 9, p. 67 (9 June 1976). ~ Teachings 7, p. 19 (30 January 1974). 2~Teachings 7, pp. 145-146 (23 October 1974). 2aTeachings 7, pp. 14-15 (23 January 1974). ~4Teachings 9, p. 66 (9 June 1976). ~STeachings 3, p. 145 (22 April 1970). 26 Teachings 7, p. 15 (23 January 1974). :T Teachings 2, p. 221 (13 August 1969). 28Teachings 7, p. 17 (30 January 1974). ~gTeachings 2, p. 221 (13 August 1969). ~°Teachings 2, p. 225 (21 August 1969). ~ Teachings 8, p. 63 (2 June 1976). J~Teachings 2, p. 226 (27 August 1969). J~Teachings 7, p. 19 (30 January 1974). ~Teachings 9, p. 68 (16 June 1976). The "Active-Contemplative" Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63106 Jungian Types and Forms of Prayer Thomas E. Clarke, S.J. Father Clarke, theologian, writer and lecturer, is well known for his work with renewal efforts in a variety of communities. He now resides in a small pastoral community where he may be addressed: 126 West 17th St.; New York, NY 10011. It is well known that Jungian spirituality--approaches to human and Christian development which draw on the insights of Carl Jung--is experi-encing a high point of interest and influence.~ More specifically, the Jungian psychological types are attracting many, especially as these types are identified by the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI), a preference measurement perfected over several decades by the late Isabel Briggs Myers.2 More particularly still, there is considerable interest in describing forms of prayer which correspond to the categories of the Jungian typology.3 In this context the present article seeks to identify and reflect on ways of praying which correspond to the functions and attitudes of the Jungian schema; it will also offer some suggestions and cautions towards the further exploration of such correspondences. It is written not only for those who are already acquainted with their MBTI types, but also for those seeking a basic explanation of this instrument in its usefulness for prayer. These observations are based on a dozen retreat/workshop experiences of six days which have sought to aid Christian growth by correlating Jungian type-categories with Gospel themes and Christian practices. They are also meant to supplement what has been said in a recent book transposing the retreat/workshop into print.4 The scope of this article is quite limited. First, it does not profess to know how people or groups belonging to any one of the sixteen types actually prefer to pray or, still less, ought to pray. Secondly, it does not seek to correlate each of the sixteen types with one or more forms of prayer. The basis of the correlations here suggested will be the four functions, with some consideration of the attitudes of introversion and extraversion. 661 66~ / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 The article does, however, go beyond the previously mentioned literature in three ways. First, it will speak not only of the prayer of individuals but also, though less in detail, of prayer in groups and in liturgical assemblies. Secondly, it will raise the question of prayer as a form of leisure, hence as a time for making friends with the shadow side of one's personality. And thirdly, it will raise the question of forms of prayer for individuals at different stages of life's journey. A Preliminary Observation One final preliminary re~ark needs to be made, on the method of correlation followed in our retreat/workshop, in the chapters of From Image to Likeness, and in the present article. Jungian theory and the Christian Gospel are two quite distinct and heterogeneous interpretations of what it means to be human. The properly behavioral and the properly religious dimensions of life are irreducible one to the other. Even where common terms, drawn from either sector, are used, we must be wary of assuming a univocal sense. Carl Jung presented himself principally as pursuing the science of the soul. Jesus Christ is God's Word of salvation, the founder of the faith community which bears his name. Nevertheless there are between the insights of Jung and the teachings of Jesus significant affinities, likenesses, analogies. As in the case of Plato and Aristotle, Darwin and Marx, penetrating Jungian insights into the human condition can meet, and be met by, facets of the Gospel. The method employed here, then, is one which centers on such resemblances. My impression is that much of the energy generated within Jungian spirituality today derives from the exciting discovery that these two basic perceptions of our humanity often converge in remarkable ways. The convergence on which we will focus here is that which obtains between the characteristics of each of the Jungian functions and different forms of Christian prayer. The Jungian Types My guess is that most readers of this article have already been introduced to the Jungian types either directly or through some such instrument as the MBTI. But a brief summary may be helpful, at least to those not acquainted with the types. Carl Jung's clinical experience acquainted him with the fact that while we all engage in common forms of behavior we also differ notably from one another in our behavioral preferences, and hence in the way in which we grow humanly. He used two generic terms, perceiving and judging, to designate the alternating rhythm, present in each person, of a) taking in reality, being shaped by it, and b) shaping reality, responding to it. Each of these two postures was specified, Jung postulated, in two contrasting functions. Perceiving (P) was specified as either sensing (S), the Jungian Types and Forms of Prayer / 663 function through which, with the help of the five senses, we perceive reality in its particularity, concreteness, presentness; or as intuiting (N), the function through which, in dependence on the unconscious and with the help of imagination, we perceive reality in its wholeness, its essence, its future potential. Judging (J) was also specified, in either thinking (T), by which we come to conclusions and make decisions on the basis of truth, logic, and right order; or in feeling (F), which prompts conclusions and decisions attuned to our subjective values and sensitive to the benefit or harm to persons--ourselves or others--which may result from our behavior. All four of these functions, Jung affirmed, can be exercised by way of extraversion or by way of introversion. He invented this now celebrated distinction to describe the flow of psychic energy inlany given instance of behavior. In extraverted behavior the flow of energy is from the subject towards the object of perception or judgment. In introverted behavior, the flow of energy is in the opposite direction, that is, from the object towards the subject. What makes the difference is not precisely whether the target of our perception or judgment is something outside ourselves or within ourselves, but which way the energy is flowing. Rather commonly, the impulse to share one's perception or judgment immediately with others or at least to give it bodily expression, signals the presence of extraversion (E); while a tendency to gather the perceiving or judging behavior and to deal with it within oneself marks introversion (I). Working independently of Jung, and on theoretical foundations previously explored by her mother, Isabel Briggs Myers developed an instrument which, on the basis of a preference questionnaire, indicated how the respondent prefers to behave in given situations. The typology is based on four sets of polar opposites: extraversion/introversion; sensing/intuiting; thinking/feeling; judging/perceiving. In tabular form: E-I S-N T-F J-P The four pairs of opposites in varying combinations yield sixteen types, each of which is identified with its code e.g. ESTJ; ISFP; ENFJ. In the process of decoding, which we cannot describe in detail here, one arrives at the order of preference of the four functions (described as dominant, auxiliary, third, and inferior), as well as the attitude (introversion or extraversion) of the dominant function. Thus one person's most preferred behavior will be extraverted feeling, another's introverted intuiting, and so forth. Also worth noting is that when the dominant function is a perceiving function (sensing or intuiting), the auxiliary function will be one of the two judging functions (thinking or feeling), the third function will be the other judging function, and the inferior function will be the perceiving function opposite to the dominant 664 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 function. A corresponding pattern will obtain where the dominant function is a judging function. This is one way in which Jung's view of"compensation," or the tendency of the psyche towards balance, is verified. Extensive research and testing, especially with respect to the professions chosen by people of various types, enabled Isabel Myers to construct profiles of the sixteen types. These in turn have won for the M BTI an extensive use in the fields of career guidance, personnel policy, and the dynamics of groups and organizations. The key psychological insight on which the MBTI capitalizes is that people's behavior, development, and relationships are strongly affected by their preferences in perceiving and judging, as well as by the extraverted or introverted character of the respective preferences. If one makes the assumption that persons are capable of enlightenment and growth through free exercise towards more human ways of living, this psychometric tool then becomes a vehicle of human development. Such is the conviction which has sparked enormous interest in the MBTI in recent years. Out of the work of these two American women has emerged the Association for Psychological Type, whose membership has reached 1500, and which has sponsored five biennial conferences for discussing numerous aspects of the typology. One of the interest areas provided for in APT covers religious education, spiritual growth, prayer styles, missionary service, and similar themes.5 With this brief outline of the various functions and the two attitudes which qualify human behavior, we now turn to correlating each of the four functions with forms of Christian prayer. In the case of each of the functions we will ask: What are some of the forms of prayer--individual, group, and liturgical-- which correspond to this function? Sensing Forms of Prayer Forms of prayer corresponding to the sensing function will be, in general, those ways of praying in which we pay attention to present reality in a focused way, whether with the help of the five external senses or through a simple perception of interior reality. Here are some examples of what we may call sensing prayer. l) Vocalprayer, such as the recitation of the psalms or the rosary, will be sensing prayer when the posture of the one praying is characterized by simple attentiveness, a certain contentment with each passing phrase, and an eschewing of rational thought, imaginative scenarios, and strong emotional investment. Sensing prayer tends for the most part to be simple, quiet, undramatic, contemplative, and down to earth. Vocal prayer, whether the words are recited aloud, gently murmured, or just expressed within, are apt vehicles for exercising this side of our personality. 2) The "prayer of simple regard" is a traditional term used to describe a kind of prayer which, I would suggest, has ~he characteristics of sensing prayer. It consists in just "being there," present to present reality, especially to God within the mystery of divine presence. It needs no words (except perhaps to Jungian Types and Forms of Prayer / 665 recall one from distraction) and does not involve strong y~arnings of the heart, but in simplicity accepts the "sacrament of the present moment." 3) The prayerful "application of the senses" may also be an exercise of sensing prayer. But here I understand this term as referring to the use of the five exterior senses, or any one of them, on their appropriate objects. The first part of Fr. Anthony de Mello's widely ready book Sadhana contains many such exercises which he lists under "Awareness.TM The sense of touch, for example, may be prayerfully exercised just by letting myself become aware of bodily sensation, beginning perhaps with the shoulders and working down to the soles of the feet. Touch is also exercised when I attend to how, in breathing, I feel the air as it enters and leaves the nostrils. Listening to sounds in a quiet posture of receptivity and enjoyment is another instance of sensing prayer. Provided I have entered this exercise with faith, I do not need to have recourse to the thought of God or to any devout feelings, even though, as Ft. de Mello suggests, a variation of this exercise might consist in hearing the sounds as God sounding in all the sounds made by nature and humans. Thus the chatter of voices, the purr of a motor in the basement, or the thunder of a ride on the New York subway, can be grist for the mill of sensing prayer. Something similar may be said for gazing as a form of sensing prayer. I may look at objects of devotion, at pictures in a book or album, at faces in a crowd, at the beauties of nature. Even taste and smell can be vehicles of prayer for a person exercising faith with a heightened consciousness. 4) Sensing prayer can also draw upon the interior sense, our capacity for paying attention to what is going on within us. Focusing on our breathing or our heartbeat can be a point of entry. Then we may choose simply to attend to what is happening in inner consciousness, to the words, images, or feelings which spontaneously bubble up from the unconscious. Sometimes this kind of exercise can induce a gradual slowing or cessation of inner chatter, and we can for a while just listen to the silence within. We may even come to a happy interior verification of the Quaker motto, "Don't speak until you can improve on silence." Sometimes people ask with regard ,to such exercises, "Is it really prayer?" Even if it were not, it would not be a bad way of disposing ourselves for prayer. But when it is situated within a life of faith and for the purpose of expressing and deepening our faith, it can be prayer---excellent prayer---even though we do not name God, converse with God, or experience any devout surge of the heart. Sensing Prayer in Groups So far I have been suggesting sensing forms of prayer for the individual. But groups can also pray with an accent on sensing. Various kinds of vocal prayer such as litanies or the Office in common, especially when they are engaged in with simplicity and even with a certain routine, enable the members 666 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 of a group to meet God and one another through the sensing function. It is also possible to create prayer services in which each of the five senses has its place, as, for example, by listening to the tinkle of a bell or to a guitar quietly strumming; by devoutly kissing a crucifix or extending a handclasp of peace; by smelling incense or flowers; by tasting a sip of wine; by focusing on the lighting of a candle. Sensing prayer in common leaves aside what is highly cognitive or interpersonal or imaginative. It calls the group to be together with a great deal of simplicity and quiet awareness of God, one another, and the environment. Sensing in IJturgical Prayer There are times when people come together in larger groups to pray, and particularly to participate in the official or public prayer of the Church. When we celebrate the Eucharist and other sacraments and the divine Office in large assemblies, prayer takes on what I would call a societal character, in contrast to the interpersonal character of prayer shared in small groups.7 The general thesis which I would propose is that a well-celebrated liturgy needs to attend to all four functions. Ideally, each participant and the congregation as a whole should have the opportunity to exercise both sensing and intuiting, thinking and feeling, in extraverted and introverted ways. In the present aspect, sensing prayer, liturgical celebration will meet our humanity when it evokes the exercise of the five senses in a congruous way by inviting the participants to look, listen, touch, taste, and smell, all in a fashion which nourishes their faith and deepens their solidarity. There is no need here to detail how apt the celebration of the sacraments in the Christian and Catholic tradition is for meeting this need of human personality. My impression is that consequent upon Vatican II the effort to break out of liturgical straitjackets sometimes brought an "angelism" insensitive to the importance of the senses in good eucharistic celebration. Heightened attention to the homily tended to move celebration excessively towards the cognitive, to the neglect of the sensate, elements of good celebration. To some degree we are today recovering the importance of the life of the senses in liturgy. This Jungian approach to societal prayer can assist in that recovery. Intuiting Prayer Intuiting prayer may be described as contemplative prayer drawing upon fantasy and imagination, as well as what might be called the prayer of emptiness or the "prayer of the vacant stare. The Jungian tradition uses the term "active imagination" to designate those behaviors in which we let images and symbols freely emerge from the unconscious and flow in consciousness. The term "active" could be misleading, if taken with a connotation of control or shaping reality. There is a sense in which this use of imagination is not active but passive, as the person's posture is one of receptivity. The orientation of such prayer is to what might be, to futuresdreamed of rather than planned. As Jungian Types and Forms of Prayer / 667 the five senses and the interior sense are the vehicles of sensing prayer, so the gift of imagination is what carries intuiting prayer. But, in my opinion, the intuiting function can be at work in prayer even when images are not freely flowing. The vacant stare into space aptly symbolizes a contemplative posture in prayer which is aptly subsumed under intuiting prayer. In such prayer the mind is not occupied with thoughts, the imagination is not delivering images or symbols, and the heart is not strongly surging toward the good. Such prayer of emptiness appears to differ sharply from the prayer of a simple regard, even though both forms are characterized by an absence of thoughts, images, and strong feelings. The difference consists in the focused or unfocused character of the gaze. To use a playful distinction which I once heard Brother David Rast employ, in the prayer of simple regard we are now/here, fully present to the present actuality of life, whereas in what I call the prayer of the vacant stare we are no/where (recall that the Greek term for nowhere is Utopia). Centering Prayer In this context it is worth asking just where "centering prayer" as developed by Fr. Basil Pennington is best situated from the standpoint of the four Jungian functions.8 My own inclination is to view it as a form of intuiting prayer. It is true that centering prayer makes use of a word in the journey to the center; and, as we shall see, the word in prayer belongs primarily to the thinking function. But here the word is functioning not as a mediator of rational meaning but as a carrier of the spirit to the beyond. Centering prayer .has a predominantly unfocused character and brings us to a certain emptiness. Hence I would put it with intuiting prayer. All of this having been said, here are some examples of intuiting prayer for the individual. 1) We have just discussed a first form, centering prayer in the proper sense. 2) The familiar "contemplations" of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius are appropriately listed under intuiting prayer. But it needs to be noted that these contemplations of the mysteries of the life of Jesus belong also to feeling prayer, as we will see. The imagination is exercised with freedom, but with a view to drawing the heart in love. It is the feeling function, we shall se~, which relates to the past through reminiscence. Perhaps a large part of the power of the Ignatian contemplations consists in the fact that both the dreaming imagination and the heart are drawn on to energize the retreatant engaged in the process of "election." Something similar may be said of the contemplation of the mysteries of the rosary. The imagination freely recreates a scene which contains in symbolic form deep Christian values. 3) Various kinds of fantasy in prayer have an intuitive character. Anthony de Mello's book here again contains some interesting exercises, Christian and non-Christian, under the general heading of "Fantasy." Some which might appear at first to be quite macabre can be a source of intense joy and peace: 661~ / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 attending your own funeral, or the "fantasy on the corpse" which Fr. de Mellow borrowed from the Buddhist series of "reality meditations." 4) Ira Progoff's "Intensive Journal," both in the sections devoted to dealing with dreams and in the various kinds of dialogues, offers an abundance of forms of intuiting prayer. The dialogues may be said to combine intuiting and thinking prayer, the latter because of the dialogue form of the prayer. 5) Praying with the help of symbols engages the intuitive function in a way that can energize us greatly. The journey, the cave, the house, the tree, the Cross, the City--these are just a few of the symbolic possibilities of intuitive prayer. Books of the Bible such as the Fourth Gospel and the Book of Revelation are a source of abundant Christian symbols which can be explored in prayer. 6) Finally, one may prayerfully explore God's call by asking the question, "What would it be like if . " envisaging oneself in alternative human situations, dreaming of new ways of one's pilgrimage. Intuiting Prayer for Groups Many of the approaches to intuiting prayer just described for the individual can be adapted for groups which are praying or prayerfully reflecting together. For example, a community which has gone off to the country or to the shore for some time together might have a very meaningful time of common prayer by having each member bring back some nature-object which symbolizes something important for that person. In planning for the year ahead, a community might put to itself the question, "What would it be like if . "making sure not to become too quickly pragmatic and sensible in dealing with the dreams of particular members for life in common. Another exercise of intuiting prayer in common might be to invite each member to select a Scripture passage which is symbolic of some aspect of the community's life, and to share the passages, taking care to be contemplative, without the need for discussion or response. Intuiting in Liturgical Prayer Lyrics from two well-known religious songs aptly characterize the intuitive element which ought to be present in any liturgical celebration. "Take us beyond the vision of this moment." and "Look beyond the bread you eat . "This note of "beyond," or (in Hopkins' poem, "The Leaden Echo and the Golden Echo") "yonder," corresponds to the eschatological quality of Christian faith. In sacramental celebration, it is the complexus of ritual gestures and of symbols which principally contains the invitation to dream, to be open to a limitless future which is God. Psychologically, this facet of good liturgy is effectively present when the congregation as a whole shares, in joyful hope, this unfocused contemplative expectation of future blessing. Though it may find verbal expression, for example within the readings of the celebration, its primary vehicle will be symbol, inviting to the "vacant stare.~ Jungian Types and Forms of Prayer / 669 Feeling Prayer Forms of prayer which correspond to the feeling function are rather easily described. They will be exercises of prayer characterized by affection, intimacy, and the devout movement of the heart. More specifically, feeling prayer takes place when the exercise of memory in gratitude or compunction brings us back to the roots whence our values are derived, when we come back home, so to speak, in the mysteries of the Gospel, the origins of a particular religious heritage, or the sources in our own personal life through which the gift of faith came to us. The third section of de Mello's Sadhana contains an abundance of such exercises of prayer. Here is a briefer listing of some forms: l) Any form of prayer in which affective dialogue takes place, with God, with Jesus or Mary or any of the saints, or with those who have been important in our personal life, verifies this kind of prayer. In the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, the contemplation of the mysteries leads to such affectionate "colloquy," in which the grace being sought includes a growth in intimate love. 2) Aspirations, when they are repeated with a view to stirring the heart, are a second way of exercising feeling prayer. The "Jesus prayer" of the Eastern tradition, when said with a view to engaging the affections, is a major example. 3) One can also wander "down memory lane" in one's own life, recalling the persons, the experiences, the behaviors, which have had great influence on one's growth. Such prayer of the heart can often be combined with the exercise of imagination, as we recreate a scene of childhood, for example, or tender moments later in life which make us grateful. Gratitude and compunction are the two distinctive graces of such kinds of prayer. For each one of us, the past contains both the gifts of God, especially in the form of the goodness of persons, and our failure to respond trustingly and generously to those gifts. 4) All of us have favorite hymns and songs, and sometimes in solitary prayer our hearts can be deeply mox~ed by singing them quietly, or letting their melodies flow through our inner consciousness. 7he Feeling Function in Group Prayer When groups pray together with some regularity, it can help occasionally if the prayer is directed toward the heart. This calls for discretion, of course, for even when the members know each other well there will remain considerable differences in the ability and desire to manifest emotion in common prayer. But experience will show just what is possible and desirable. Music and song is an easy vehicle, usually unembarrassing. The group might listen to an endearing hymn, or to some instrumental music which appeals to the heart. Story telling, the sharing of personal history about a theme important for the faith life of the group, is another simple and easy way of being together in an affectionate way. 671) / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 Spontaneous prayer, in which people are free to pray aloud and from the heart, can also deepen the bonds of affection within a community, and strengthen the common commitment to shared values. This is an appropriate place to mention the relationship of spiritual direction. At least in a broad sense it is part of the prayer life of both the director and the one being directed. It calls for the engagement of all four of the functions. But, inasmuch as it is an intimate relationship of two persons of faith and aimed at the fostering of Gospel values in the life of the person being directed, it calls particularly for the exercise of the feeling function. This is not the place to discuss the question of friendship within this relationship of spiritual direction, apart from observing that there are contrary views on the subject. But, whatever discretion may be called for to preserve the character of the dialogue as one of spiritual, direction, it remains a situation where the feeling function is expressed interpersonally. Feeling in Public Prayer From'what has already been said readers will be able to describe for themselves the aspects of liturgical prayer and other forms of public prayer which correspond to the feeling function. There is significant difference, of course, between the face-to-face prayer of a small group and the largely anonymous quality of public prayer in large assemblages. There will be corresponding differences, therefore, in the ways in which this side of our humanity finds expression. In my opinion, one of the imbalances of recent years with regard to our expectations of liturgy is that we have often expected it to nourish intimacy in ways beyond its power. Concomitantly, we have tended to lose contact with the deep enrichment which can come to our affective life from such experiences of faith. However one may be personally disposed toward the large gatherings of charismatics which have become such an important part of public prayer and worship, it needs to be said that the charismatic movement is more effectively in touch with this facet of our humanity than most people are. Some of the scenes in which John Paul II has been involved in his worldwide travels provide a further illustration of the energy which flows from religious values through societal prayer and worship. In particular, hymns sung by thousands of voices can be memorable in their impact, as anyone who has been to Lourdes or Rome can testify. The Thinking Function in Prayer I have left the thinking function till last for a few reasons. One is that I find it to be neglected and even, at times, disparaged. Why this is the case is understandable in relationship to the rediscovery of the life of feeling which has taken place in Roman Catholic circles in recent decades. Prayer had, in many respects, become too "cognitized," partly through a reduction of the Ignatian tradition to what was conceived as the Ignatian method of prayer as Jungian Types and Forms of Prayer / 671 exemplified in the well-known schema of a nineteenth-century Jesuit general, John-Baptist Roothan. In any case the thinking function in prayer has a rather poor press nowadays. Even Anthony de Mello writes, A word about getting out of your head: The head is not a very good place for prayer. It is not a bad place for starting your prayer. But if your prayer stays there too long and doesn't move into the heart it will gradually dry up and prove tiresome and frustrating. You must learn to move out of the area of thinking and talking and move into the area of feeling, sensing, loving, intuiting? Ft. de Mello is faithful to this conviction, for his book is divided into three parts, corresponding more or less to the sensing, intuiting, and feeling functions. There is no section on thinking prayer. Doesn't something more positive need to be said about our capability of meeting God through the rational mind? Surely it is no less important a part of God's image in us than the life of sense, feeling, and imagination. And, within the unity of the person, it is intimately linked in its workings with the operations of these other facets of our humanity. But instead of arguing theoretically for a place for thinking in prayer, let me offer some examples of how one may pray with the rational mind. l) A clear instance of thinking prayer for the individual is the famous "First Principle and Foundation" of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola. I can ponder it during a period of prayer and, first, try to appreciate its simple logic in the linkage of purpose, means, and attitude. After savoring its truth I can then examine my life to see where there is order and-where there is disorder, and just what area calls for the struggle to be free from inordinate affections. Knowing that I cannot free myself, I can turn to ask God's help. Then I can make a few practical resolutions touching some steps on the road to freedom. Such highly cognitive activities in prayer are really prayer, and not merely preliminaries to prayer. 2) Prayer may also take the form of setting down a personal charter or set of basic principles by which I wish to live, e.g., "Every human being I meet is worthy of my respect." Periodically I can review this set of principles in order to evaluate and improve my fidelity. 3) I may choose also to draw up for myself a plan of life, which would include a daily or weekly schedule of prayer, reading, provisions for work and leisure, practice with respect to money, and so forth. 4) From time to time I may wish to take a book of the Bible, and, with the help of a good commentary, carefully and systematically over a period of some weeks seek a deeper grasp of God's word, attending to the structure of the work, its cultural setting, the precise meaning of terms, and so forth. I may wish to write my own paraphrase of the book, or use the text as the basis of my own reflections. Most of us are accustomed to contrast prayer and study. But when study of God's word takes place within a life of faith and for the purpose of fostering faith, I believe that it lacks nothing of the reality of prayer itself. 679 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 Thinking Prayer in Groups Not all group prayer needs to be self-revelatory and strongly interpersonal in its character. The common recitation of the Office or prayer of the Church is a good example of communal thinking prayer. Such prayer is characterized by clear structure, orderly procedure, and the absence of strong emotions. While it would be untrue to say that affectivity is absent, what prevails is a sense of meaning and purpose. Especially when such prayer includes reading a passage from Scripture or from some other source, the mind's desire for meaning is being fed. Spiritual reading, which is another form of thinking prayer for individuals which might have been mentioned, can also take place within a group united in faith. Thinking in Liturgical Prayer Liturgical celebration, especially when it occurs in larger assemblies of people, takes on a societal or public character. The very term liturgy conveys this, of course. Inasmuch as the movement from the private to the public in all dimensions of our life involves a significant shift of behavioral attitudes, it brings to the fore the thinking side of our personality. As we begin to relate to people outside the circle of intimacy, it becomes necessary to create conven-tions, etiquettes, structures, which provide us with supports and safeguards as we relate to larger and more anonymous gatherings of people. It is for such reasons that our liturgical celebrations contain a good deal of structure and ritual gesture, and tend to be less highly personal than informal prayer in small groups. More of the thinking side of our humanity needs to be engaged when we celebrate the Eucharist and other ceremonies on a large scale. Similarly to what was said previously about sensing prayer in public worship, I think that we can be helped to understand both the tensions and the failures which have characterized our experience of liturgical worship during the past few decades if we bring to bear on them an understanding of personality types. At the risk of being simplistic one might say that the Tridentine liturgy had become ossified and institutionalistic in its absolutizing of the thinking mode of public worship. This made it understandable that, in the swing of the pendulum in recent decades, we experienced some loss of the basic sense of structure, decorum, and ritual which needs to preside over our public prayer. Some (not all) of the negative reactions to the kiss of peace probably stem from an uneasiness lest the distinction of private and public worship be overlooked. The present juncture, I would say, is a time when we need to recapture, without returning to rigorism and institutionalism, the rich energies of a thinking kind contained in our sacramental and liturgical traditions. We will pray much better in public if we prize this aspect of our .humanity and of our Christian prayer. Jungian Types and Forms of Prayer Further Considerations Up to now this article has offered principally a correlation of forms of prayer, chiefly individual but also interpersonal and societal, with the four functions of the Jungian personality types. As has already been said, we should be wary of too easy identification of any of the sixteen types with one or other preferred way of praying. It is not one's type alone but a variety of factors which affect our attractions in prayer. Two of these factors will now be discussed briefly. They concern 1) prayer as an exercise of leisure; 2) prayer in the stages of human development. Prayer and Leisure One plausible theory which one hears voiced in Jungian circles would have it that, when we turn from the areas of work and profession to the exercise of leisure, there is a spontaneous inclination in the psyche to move from a more preferred to a less preferred side of our personality. In terms of the functions this would mean, for example, that a person whose work or ministry calls for a great deal of extraverted intuiting--being with people in situations which call for a good deal of creative imagination--will spontaneously seek relaxation after labor by some quiet exercise of sensing: baking a cake with careful attention to measurements, or working at one's stamp collection, or hooking a rug according to a given pattern. Similarly, someone whose work is highly analytical and impersonal, let us say in dealing with a computer, might want to relax by sharing a Tchaikovsky concert or a TV sitcom with a few friends. Such a suggestion makes a good deal of sense, especially in view of the natural mechanisms of compensation which seem to be built into our psychic life. If one then adds the similarly plausible suggestion that prayer is or ought to be an exercise of leisure, then we would appear to have a useful criterion for evaluating our forms of prayer, and for suggesting new approaches to prayer, particularly when we seem to be getting nowhere. In such a view, we might profitably ask ourselves from time to time whether our behavior in prayer does not tend to be too much a compulsive continuation of the kind of behavior which we prefer in our work or ministry. And we might, if such is the case, deliberately seek ways of praying which helped to disengage us from such compulsive patterns. Someone whose primary gift, for example, is introverted intuiting, and who spends a good deal of time in the course of the day exercising that gift, might deliberately choose some extraverted sensing forms of prayer, for example, praying the rosary with simple attention to the words, the touch of the beads, and so forth. Or someone whose ministry makes heavy emotional demands---caring for the senile or the retarded, or counselling disturbed people, for example--might find some interior exercise of thinking prayer to be balancing and eventually attractive. One small suggestion regarding this experiencing of leisu're in prayer. It should take place, like all prayer, not by violence but by attrai:tion. It might well be that, though one appreciates the value of shifting gears when one 674 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 approaches prayer, it is not so easy to disengage from one's favored behavior. One might have to make an entry through the preferred function, especially an auxiliary function, before learning to exercise a less preferred function, especially the inferior function, in prayer. This use of the auxiliary function to wean us away from too exclusive a reliance on the dominant function is part of a Jungian strategy of individuation. It would seem to be applicable to strategies in prayer. For example, if thinking is my dominant function and I exercise it abundantly in my work, I may find myself attached to it even when I come to prayer. Instead of directly trying to rouse myself to feeling prayer, I might begin by letting my auxiliary sensing direct my gaze to particular objects, interior or exterior, which in turn and in due time may stir my heart to affective prayer. The philosophy of non-violence has an important area of application in prayer. Prayer and Development Numerous are the theories which, in the present century, have sought to plot the course of human development, in its cognitive, affective, social and ethical aspects. The well-known names of Piaget, Maslow, Erikson, Fowler, and others have provided rich insights into the various facets of growth. One characteristic of a Jungian perspective on development is that, in the light of the diversity of personality types, it will be wary of imposing a monOlithic pattern on the wide variety of human preferences. When prayer is viewed in this light, there are some salutary cautions and perhaps some qualifications of long-standing assumptions .about progress in prayer. Dr. W. Harold Grant has, for some years, been investigating the hypothesis of our ~pe.riods of differentiated human development, starting at age six and ending at fifty, with major switching points taking place at twelve, twenty, and thirty-five. In each of the four periods, according to the hypothesis, the person would be developing one of the four functions: the dominant in childhood, the auxiliary in adolescence, the third function in early adulthood, and, from the age of thirty-five on, the inferior function. The hypothesis includes also an alternation of introversion and extraversion in the successive periods. Prior to age six and subsequent to age fifty development would be taking place more randomly, and not selectively, as in the four periods between six and fifty. If one accepts this as a plausible hypothesis, some implications for forms of prayer at the differe.nt stages of life would seem to be present. First, one would be open to the possibility that the spontaneous employ of sense, imagination, reason, and affection in prayer may not be uniform for all persons or types. Any such prevailing assumption that growth in prayer takes place first by the use of reason and imagination and then, in a darknight experience, by their cessation, might have to yield to a view which acknowledges more diversity in the way in which the attachment/detachment phenomenon takes place in different types of personalities. Jungian Types and Forms of Prayer / 675 Secondly, the hypothesis may help to throw light on crisis periods in people's prayer lives, by suggesting that the emergence of a new function-- especially of the inferior function about the age of thirty-fiv~e--may be signaled through the decline or collapse of previously fruitful ways of praying. It might also suggest that the person involved in such a crisis might do well to explore some alternative ways of praying, ways which would be in keeping with whatever function was seeking to find its place in consciousness. Let us think, for example, of persons in whom feeling is dominant, experiencing something of a crisis in prayer around mid-life. They might do well, with the help of a. director, to exercise their thinking side in prayer, for example, by keeping a journal in which reflection on the meaning of what they are experiencing, or meditation on the meaning of some scriptural passages, was cultivated. It should be obvious that these two factors, touching the question of leisure and the question of diversity in human development, do not exhaust the sources which make for different experiences in prayer. Factors stemming from each person's unique personal history will be at least as important in deciding what course we wish to chart in prayer. And ultimately, as has already been said, it is the attraction of the Spirit of God at every juncture of life which is the primary determinant of how we choose to pray. Conclusion But if it all comes down at last to attraction, why bother consulting the Jungian types for help in praying? For two principal reasons. First, such a consultation will make us wary of being misled by stereotypes of prayer and of progress in prayer, and particularly of the monolithic character of many descriptions of growth in prayer, even among the great classics. And secondly, when persons are in a time of crisis or barrenness in prayer, they may be helped in dealing with the situation if they have had some practice in a variety of ways of praying, and if they realize the affinity between these various ways and the different functions within the Jungian personality types. With the reservations we have indicated in this article, acquaintance with one's type through the MBTI can help foster better praying. NOTES ~See, for example, Morton Kelsey, The Other Side of Silence, (New York: Paulist, 1976); idem, Transcend: A Guide to the Spiritual Quest, (New York: Crossroad, 1981); John Sanford, Healing and Wholeness, (New York: Paulist, 1977); idem, The Invisible Partners, New York: Paulist, 1980); Wallace B. Clift, Jung and Christianity: The Challenge of Reconcilation, (New York: Crossroad, 1982); John Welch, Spiritual t~'lgrims: Carl Jung and Teresa of Avila, (New York: Paulist, 1982); Robert Doran, "Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality," P~vtEw FOr RELtatot/s 38 (1979), pp. 497-510; 742-52; 857-66. 2See Isabel Briggs Myers, Gifts Differing, (Palo Alto: Consulting Psychologists Press, 1980). 676 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 3See Christopher Bryant, Heart in Pilgrimage: Christian Guidelines for the Human Journey, (New York: Seabury, 1980), pp. 182-195; Robert Repicky, "Jungian Typology and Christian Spirituality," REVtEW FOR REMGtOVS, 40 (1981) pp. 422-435. 4See W. Harold Grant, Mary Magdala Thompson, Thomas E. Clarke, From Image to likeness: A Jungian Path in the Gospel Journey, (New York: Paulist, 1983). SAPT publishes a newsletter, MBTI News, for its membership, and is based at 414 S.W. 7th Terrace, Gainesville, FL 32601. 6See Anthony de Mello, Sadhana: A Way to God, (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1979). 7See Thomas E. Clarke, "Toward Wholeness in Prayer," in: William R. Callahan & Francine Cardman, 7he Wind ls Rising: Prayer Ways for Active People (Hyattsville, MD: Quixote Center, 1978), pp. 18-20. sSee Thomas Keating, M. Basil Pennington, Thomas E. Clarke, Finding Grace at the Center, (Still River, MA: St. Bede Publications, 1978). 9De Mello, p. 13. The Time for Figs There twinges in my heart A pity for that fig tree--barren-- Caught up within the eyes of Christ, Cursed by his lips. There echo in my soul Defenses for the tree's unburdened limbs Held light against the sky-- Perhaps because it's I who am the fig tree, content to wait the seasons out. But now is the time for figs-- Season or not-- IX, e looked for the sun too long, Yearned for the rain to come and comfort me, The earth to gather and to nourish. It is the time for figs-- The hungry and the weak pass by And the blossoms are an empty, bitter food. It is the time for bearing. Oh, Jesus. look again on me And cause in me such heaviness of fruit That it shall fall unreached for round your foot. The season is ripe: It is the time for figs. Sister Ann Maureen. I.H.M. 11201 Academy Road Philadelphia, PA 19154 Prayer of the Paschal Mystery: Sorrow in the Risen Lord's Company David Hassel, S.J. In this article Father Hassel continues to explore the subject of Radical Prayer (also the title of his recent book). His last article for us, "The Prayer of Daily Decisioning: Hungering for God's Will," appeared in the issue of May/June, 1983. He continues to live and teach at Loyola University, where he may be addressed: Jesuit Community; Loyola University of Chicago; 6525 North Sheridan Road; Chicago, 1L 60626. Prayer, taken radically, is a deep attitude towards life, a basic way of living in the world with God and with others. Thus prayer of reminiscence is characterized by an attitude of thankfulness; prayer of Christ's memories (Gospel prayer), by a deep wanting to companion Christ; prayer of listening-waiting., by a strong trusting in God's graciousness; prayer of contemplation; by an aCtitude of welcome to God and his worldJ How, then, would one characterize the attitude behind the life and prayer of the Paschal Mys~ery.'~ . One of the presumed grand masters of the spiritual life, Ignatius Loyola, 3 . challenges, even shocks, us when he describes the life of the Paschal Mystery and thereby implies the type of prayerful attitude of humility which, he thinks, animates this life: The most perfect kind of humility [its third stage] consists in this . Whenever the praise and glory of the Divine Majesty would be equally served, in order to imitate and be in reality more like Christ our Lord, I desire and choose poverty with Christ poor, rather than riches; insults with Christ loaded with them, rather than honors; I desire to be accounted as worthless and a fool for Christ, rather than to be esteemed as wise and prudent in this world. So Christ was treated before me.3 At first sight, this third stage of humility, i.e., this prayerful attitude of Paschal- Mystery life, appears to be incredibly negative. It is seemingly a rejection of contemporary incarnation theology which so strongly emphasizes creativity and the resurrection. In Ignatius' description of the Paschal-Mystery life, the 677 6711 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 crucified Christ seems alone to occupy one's vision, and the good Christian appears to ambition nothing more than poverty, ignominy, and degradation. In such a pessimistic, if not inhumane, way of life and prayer, Christ's resurrection and the Christian's consequent joyful creativity would seem to have little place. The shock increases when it dawns on the person praying within the Spiritual Exercises that Ignatius considered this third stage of humility the very heart of the Gospels for all Christians and not simply the storm center of life for his Jesuit sons.4 Could, then, this third stage be accurately describing the prayerful attitude and life of the Paschal Mystery? Is it possible that, in grappling with Ignatius' description, we could come to understand more satisfactorily this mystery of Christ's death and resurrection occurring within us? If such wrestling is to be worth our time, then our first effort should be to deal with those initial distracting fears and angers surfacing against the challenge of this third stage of humility. Having thus somewhat freed our hearts and minds, we could then more fairly check out whether or not Ignatius' third stage of humility expresses truly, though only partially, the Paschal Mystery of the Gospels. If it should do so, then we are ready to catch, within our experience, the four scriptural pulse-beats which may define our attitudinal prayer of the Paschal Mystery. Following this, we could seek out the signs of 'he Paschal Mystery felt within our prayer experience and later describe some imple ways of deepening this prayer within us. Here it is notable how Paschal- Mystery prayer may well be a basic attitude towards all of life even amid acute suffering. Could it possibly turn out to be a strengthening joy (the risen Christ himself?.) within our demanding apostolic endeavors? Fears Diverting Us from Praying the Third Stage of Humility On first hearing Ignatius' third stage of humility proposed, most of us experience deep fears. These quickly smother any attempts at considering, luch more praying over, this terrible challenge to our sensibility and to our .ationality. Consequently, before even trying to understand the third stage of aumility as an expression of the Paschal-Mystery life, we must face these powerful fears.5 One initial fear is that my educated skills will be lost in the muddle of becoming poor with Christ poor. My education is a richness not appreciated by the uneducated poor and not supportable in impoverished circumstances. Ask the U.S.-educated Filipino physician or Indian technician returned to his native city if this is not the case. This means that I will rarely get the time or have the equipment to pursue my art or music or sociology or psychology or computer mathematics or history or engineering~ My talents will lie dormant and later atrophied; my personality will be impoverished and made dull; my angry frustration, like a corrosive agent, will burn me out. Indeed, identification with the poor Christ would eventually strip away all prize possessions like my car; stereophonic tape and recording deck, modish Prayer of the Paschal Mystery / 679 clothes, well-stocked refrigerator, the social rounds with close friends, regular opportunities for vacations, long-distance telephone calls, comfortable bank-account, and a few other precious items. For, when one identifies with the poor in their work, neighborhood, and life-style, one inevitably assumes their ways no matter how skilled, talented or comfortably endowed one may be. A second source of fear is the call to identify with Christ dishonored. If my~ skills, talents and perquisites are enfeebled, I will certainly become less effective' in my work, perhaps, too, in my human relationships. Where once before I was respected for my skillful intelligence, artistic finesse, and guaranteed delivery of promised products; now; I am seen as the bumbler. This, in turn, could well involve a distancing from my friends, not simply because I no longer look good to them but more because our times together will be fewer, our interests different, and our cultural neighborhoods far apart. In other words, like Christ's poor, I will be gradually reduced to being a marginal person whose voice is no longer heard in the councils of the great or small. I will be lost in the masses. This last statement reveals the root-source of all ~my fears concerning the third stage of humility: self-annihilation. The fear of death, the most powerful dread of my life, repels me from the embrace of the third stage. I do not want to be the grain of wheat dying to produce a further harvest. I do not want to lose control of my life, my developing personality, my destiny. The third stage seems to demand a total trust--something which I am willing to award only to myself. Living the third stage of humility appears to be slow suicide. Historical examples abound to let me know that my fears are well grounded. Damien of Molakai identified only too well with his sick lepers and was rewarded with government disdain. Many founders of religious orders have discovered themselves made marginal within their own communities when they identified too fully with the maligned Christ; for example, Francis of Assisi, Madeline Sophie Barat, Cornelia Connelly, and Guillaume Chami-nade. 6 Teilhard de Chardin, a man all his life hidden in Christ, was considered a dangerous fool by the superorthodox Christians and a silly fool by those appreciative of his writings and paleontological competence but not compre-hending of his obedience to Church authorities.7 More recently in El Salvador, Archbishop Romero and Rutilio Grande were hated, disparaged, and then assassinated in the same way as their despised campesino friends with whom they identified,s In response to these fears stimulated by the third stage of humility, one may say that those living this stage can die to one career and then rise to a new one far more fruitful for the Church. Note how Mother Teresa of Calcutta moved out of the classroom and her congregation to dedicate her life to those literally dying in the streets of Calcutta and to the founding of a new worldwide congregation. One can also point out that those living the third stage develop new talents and skills to their own great surprise as when one priest of my acquaintance, being ordered under obedience to do spiritual 6111} / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 direction with some difficult personalities, discovered a new ability for counseling and a fresh realism of judgment which made him much more effective in classroom and pulpit, his first interest. As a third instance of victory coming out of defeat, notice how voices, suppressed or muffled with dishonor before the Second Vatican Council, now echo more strongly than ever within and outside the Church. I speak of Yves Congar, Karl Rahner, Henri de Lubac, and John Courtney Murray. Their sufferings, undergone in silent loyalty to the Church, have validated their insights and given new life to the Church. Just as the missionary letters of that long-dead "failure," Francis Xavier, populated the sixteenth-century novitiates and lured thousands to the missions; so, the lives of these contemporary heroes for Christ raise hope and ambition in countless Christians to serve the Church and her anawim (the marginal and powerless people). The above responses to fears of the third stage are unfortunately only slight glimpses into that Paschal-Mystery attitude which Ignatius' third stage of humility attempts to express. Their inadequacy is painful. Yet they indicate how greatly faith and trust enter into the living of the Paschal Mystery. This does demand of us a remarkable willingness to entrust our priceless skills, talents, possessions, reputation, friends, and hopes into the hands of the poor, dishonored, and unappreciated Christ. The great temptation is to refuse this ultimate trust lest one lose all comfort, much respect from others, and a satisfying career, when actually this "death" through trust may be the final and fullest growth of person in the Christian. The Third Stage of Humility and the Paschal Mystery If living the third stage of humility should turn out to be a deep living of the Paschal Mystery and therefore to be at the heart of the Gospel, then evidently one could never totally comprehend this third stage any more than one could exhaustively understand the Paschal Mystery. But at least one can attempt to remove some of the blinding misunderstandings of the third stage which keep people from appreciating and from living the Paschal Mystery. In other words, the best one can do here is to remove exterior obstacles for the one wishing to pray and to live the third stage of humility. Then, as this person enters into the Paschal Mystery, his or her life will be illumined and directed by a new wisdom--a wisdom which slowly dawns within any person attempting to identify more and more with Christ poor and dishonored. First of all, a frequent charge against the third stage of humility is that it is anti-creationist. This would be true if its expression of the heart of the Gospels did not fit well the first two chapters of Genesis, the first four chapters of the Letter to the Ephesians, and the first chapter of the Letter to the Colossians, where man and woman are to complete God's creation by mastering and developing it. Therefore, the third stage, if it be validly Christian, must mean that identification with Christ poor and dishonored is a creative act. It cannot be, even implicitly, a depreciation or suppression of those human skills, talents, Prayer of the Paschal Mystery / 611"1 and opportunities which make woman, man, and the universe more beautiful and more joyful. Otherwise the third stage as an attempted expression of the Paschal Mystery is inhumane and is to be regarded as unchristian. Consequently, it is vicious to interpret the third stage as insisting that we ask for and directly seek out sickness, business failure, loss of friendship, defeat, the misery of poverty, and the humiliation of dishonor in order to become closer to Christ. This would be to make the third stage a depraved description of the Paschal Life--as though it were requiring that we pursue evil in order to be more perfect Christians. Such a. style of life would not only destroy its pursuants but seriously injure all the people whom the pursuants are trying to serve and companion. Such spiritual athleticism based on a totally negative theology of the cross exemplifies more a gross pride than a Christlike humility. Man has been given a free and inventive nature so that he can cooperate with a free and inventive God to make the world more beautifully humane. In this way, man and woman attain full manhood and womanhood, that is, they become more like the risen Christ. Indeed, the Lord has promised his close followers that they will receive a hundredfold "houses, brothers, sisters, mothers, children, and land--not without persecutions--now in this present time and, in the world to come, eternal life" (Mk 10:29-30; Mt 19:27-30; Lk 18:31-33- Jerusalem Bible). It is precisely those living the third stage who are more eligible, amid persecutions, for this hundredfold of creative joy based on interpersonal relationships. Secondly, this hundredfold is guaranteed by the Christ of today, the risen Christ, who is the present Lord of the universe and the future culmination of all history. Nevertheless this Christ, under the Father, has freely chosen, even preferred, for himself and for his followers, to win his kingdom through suffering as well as joy, through defeat as well as victory. For the risen Christ is also the Christ of the passion and death; he carries the wounds in his risen body. But because he is the resurrected, immortal Lord, no Christian's suffering or defeat will be without the joy of his strengthening presence. For this rea.son, underneath the sufferings described in the third stage of humility, there must be a strong and perduring joy, namely the strength by which the suffering Christian perdures without bitterness. This is, of course, the Paschal Mystery working itself out, as simultaneous crucifixion and resurrection, in the life of every true Christian. More specifically, this joy would be union with Christ and oneness with his Church. There is a third reason for suspecting that a joyful creativity strengthens the living of the third stage: God's every action in the universe is meant to make all the human participants more human. After all, God's glory, as extrinsic to his own being, is precisely and more fully the wholesomeness of humankind, the fuller womanhood and manhood of each person. The paradox occurs when the Christian is asked to trust that a particular suffering or sorrow will not end in a diminishment, but rather in an enhancing of his or her person, so long as 6112 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1983 the pain is borne trustingly in and with Christ suffering. To look back twenty. years and to reflect with Christ upon a particular calamity is, often enough, to discover in oneself an important growth-period. But even if an objector to the third stage of humility were to agree that underlying this state would be a strengthening joy and peace, he could still accuse the third stage of encouraging individualism, simply a "me and Jesus suffering" type of piety. This forces us to clarify what is meant when the third stage urges us "to choose poverty with Christ poor, rather than riches; insults with Christ loaded with them, rather than honors." The question is: "Who is this Christ?" Is he only the historical Christ of Nazareth or is he also the mystical Christ which is the Church and which is unified by the one presence of the risen historical Christ? Because the Ignatian Exercises are aimed at enabling the retreatant to make decisions which will expand the kingdom of Christ according to Christ's standard, the Christ of the third stage must be also the Mystical Christ, the Church. Thus, the third stage of humility is basically other-centered. It makes little sense unless it represents a deeper loyalty to the historical risen Christ and to his people. Its inner dynamic is, then, to put the retreatant in contact with the poor, the abandoned, the lonely, the twisted, the sick, the unhappy of Matthew's famous last-judgment scene (25:31-46): "whatever you did to the least of these brothers of mine, you did to me." The third stage of humility, then, as an expression of the Paschal Mystery has a powerful apostolic thrust because it not only rises out of the deepest personal loyalty to the risen historical Christ of Nazareth but reaches out in wholehearted social loyalty to the Mystical Christ, the Church. Naturally, if the Christian lives deeply with these poor and dishonored of Christ, he will become marked with their characteristics. Let a priest or layman work closely with the homosexual community and he will be labeled a homosexual and treated accordingly. Let a laywoman or a nun work in a woman's rights organization and she will be labeled fanatic, abortion-minded, man-hating. The psychiatrist spending long hours with the mentally disturbed risks not only his own mental health but also the stigma of being considered "a mere shrink." It is literally dangerous to live the third stage and to identify with Christ's poor and dishonored. Thus this basic attitude of the third stage is no mere mental fiction--for example, a mental trick to be used for giving one balance against the inclina-tions of Original Sin towards the easier way of life. It is, on the contrary, a real preference to be with Christ's suffering people, a definite mind-set and heart-set which enable the Christian to do pioneer work wherever people are hurting most from neglect and weakness. Such an attitude also enables the sick person to accept his or her illness positively as an opportunity for knowing Christ better and for contributing in some hidden way to the good of Christ's people. It enables, too, the South American labor-organizer to risk his life in order to rescue his people from economic slavery and psychological degradation. Prayer of the Paschal Mystery / 15113 All this takes for granted that suffering and sorrow can be creative moments in the Christian's life. Not that suffering and sorrow of themselves are creative; they are destructive in themselves--unless good is drawn out of their evil. But the person living the third stage of humility as an expression of the Paschal Mystery is convinced in faith that God the Father intends to draw good out of the evils spawned by personal sin and by original sin. Further, he is sure that Christ the Son has preferred to achieve the liberation of man through suffering, and that the Holy Spirit prefers to achieve the unification of the Church and of mankind through human historical sufferings as he completes the universe. This is the central mystery of life, that God would want the world to reach its destiny through suffering and defeat as much as through joy and victorious accomplishment. Somehow, t.hrough suffering and sorrow, a depth of wisdom, patience and loyalty is reached, which in this present world is not available to those enjoying the easier life. Under the illumination of.Christ's resurrected life, this vital mystery of earthly suffering and joy is seen to be the Paschal Mystery of resurrection amid death, i.e., of creative power amid galling limitations and sharp agonies. This is why one can speak of creative suffering when dealing with the third stage of humility. In contrast to the stifling self-pity which arises in one who sees no reason for personal suffering except bad luck, the person of the third stage is aware that God does not waste a moment of human suffering. Instead, every twinge of pain, every throb of sorrow, every burning moment of fair and unfair humiliation, every blasted hope, can somehow, by God's providence, contribute to the final cooperative triumph of humanity and God: that Great Community of the Great Today and Tomorrow called the Communion of Saints. Man, however, must allow his sufferings and sorrows to become creative by identifying them with the risen Christ's passion and death. In this way a person wastes nothing. All his or her skills, talents, capacity to love, and opportunities to build a better world are focused positively on others and are not paralyzed by bitter self-pity. Indeed, this pers

Issue 27.5 of the Review for Religious, 1968. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. John C. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. C~orrespondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to KEVIEW FOR RELI~3IOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63io3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32~ Willings Alley; Philadelphia, pennsylvania ~91o6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright ~) 1968 by REvmw FOR RELm~Ot3S at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class pos!age paid at Baltimore, Maryland. Single copies: $1.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two years; other countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to Rzvmw Fort R~LIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR. RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, wher~ accom-panied by a remittance, should be sent to REvIEw ~Oa RELIGIOtJS; P. O. BOX 671; Baltimore. Maryland 21203. Changes of address, business correspondence, and orders not accompanied by a remittanct should be sent to REvmw FOR RELIGIOUS ; 4~8 East Preston Street; Baltimore, MaD, land 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to R~vmw ~oa RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. SEPTEMBER1968 VOLUME 27 NUMBER 5 JOSEPH FICHTNER, O.S.C. Signs Charisms, Apostolates "Signs of the times" is a phrase that has been bandied about for so long in ecclesiastical circles that it has be-come part of our Christian vocabulary and has helped to define the relationship between the Church and the world.1 It is a category which sums up and expresses the Christian interpretation.of human, history---of the events which give evidence of and vindicate God's pres-ence and activity in the world through human agency. It has been empl'oyed in papal and conciliar documents not as a pious exhortation but in order to draw attention to the Christian duty of recognizing, analyzing, and assessing the events and movements of !aistory as so ma.ny opportunities for evangelisation. The Church will have a dynamic and effective apostolate in the world only if she discerns and assesses the values to be found in the world today. The charisms or gifts with which the Spirit of Christ endows the Church enable her not only to interpret contemporary history but to meet the needs of peoples. Pope John XXIII first used the expression "signs of the times" in the apostolic constitution Humanae salutis, proclaiming the Second Vatican Council3 "Indeed," he said, "we make ours the recommendation of Jesus that one should know how to distinguish the 'signs of the times' (Mr 16:4), and we seem to see now, in the midst of so much darkness, a few indications which augur well for the fate of the Church and of humanity." After 1 See M.-D. Chenu, O.P., "Les signes des temps," Nouvelle revue thdologique, v. 87 (1965), pp. 20-$9; "The Church and the World," Documentatie Centrum Concilie, n. 52; "The Christian Value of Earthly Realities," ibid., n. 157; "A Pastoral Constitution on the Church," ibid., n. 205. = Walter M. Abbott, S.J., and Joseph Gallagher (eds.), The Docu-ments o[ Vatican H (New York: America Press, Guild Press, Associa-tion Press, 1966), p. 704. All translations of Vatican II documents throughout the article are taken from this edition. Joseph Fichtner, O~S.C., is a faculty member of the Cro-sier House of Stud-ies; 2620 East Wal-len Road, Fort Wayne, Indiana 46805. VOLUME 27, 1968 + + ÷ $oseph Fichtner, 0.$.C. listing several indications he himself had noticed, he added: "And this facilitates, no doubt, the apostolate of the Church . " The phrase was given a little more precise applica-tion by the same pontiff in his encyclical Peace on Earth,~ most significant for addressing itself not only to members of the Church but to "all men of good will." Here John XX!II observed how our age is distinguished by three characteristics: (1) the promotion o[ the working classes; (2) the entry of women into public life; and (3) the emancipation of colonized peoples. All three together signi[y that sweeping socialization whose Christian value the Church embraces with the arms of her catholicity. The recourse she may have to such signs of the times is not. a matter of opportunism but the result of understanding the spirit of the times and how the Spirit o[ Christ is at work in them. In his first encyclical Ecclesiam Suam,4 Pope Paul VI retained the term aggiornamento coined by John XXIII and associated it with the "signs of the times" as a pro-gram of action: "We want to recall it to mind as a stim-ulus to preserve the perennial vitality of the Church, her continuous awareness and ability to study the signs of the times and her constantly youthful agility in 'scrutiniz-ing it all carefully and retaining only what is good' (I Thes 5:21) always and everywhere." As John XXIII made the signs of the times the nerve center of his en-cyclical and the reason [or his optimistic outlook upon the health of the world, so did Paul VI comment upon them favorably after his return from Jerusalem on J.anuary 8, 1964, asking the faithful to understand, reflect upon, and learn how to go about deciphering them. Finally, despite some hesitation about accepting the phrase because of its biblical derivation, it was taken up into the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World:5 "To carry out such a task [of service], the Church has always had the duty of scrutinizing the signs of the times and of interpreting-them in the light o[ the gospel . We must therefore recognize and understand the world in which we live, its expec-tations, its longings, and its often dramatic characteris-tics." The same article sketches by way of contrasts some of the contemporary characteristics: social, economic, and cultural transformation versus the uncertainty about the direction man is giving it; abundant wealth, natural resources, economic power, and the accompanying hun- 3 William J. Gibbons, S.J. (ed.), Pacera in terris (New York: Paul-ist Press, 1963), nn. 39-45. ~ The Pope Speaks, v. 10 (1965), p. 271, n. 20. The translation given above differs somewhat from the reference. 3 Article 4. ger and poverty; the unity and solidarity of the world versus the threat of total war; exchange of. ideas and diverse ideologies; a better world movement without equal zeal for spiritual betterment;'hope and anxiety. Its use in Matthew 16:4 has rendered the ph~rase sus-pect, for in the Matthean context the term "signs" refers to the miracles Jesus Worked, which is far from the meaning attached to it by either the popes or the recent council. What the latter had in mind were the events, not necessarily miraculous or extraordinary, taking place in the course of human history having spiritual and symbolic significance. The events, what-ever they may be, have both historical and theological significance. This means that beyond their immediate, brute, historical content, they have a value because they are an expression of an other reality. One can, for exam-ple, envision the forms of civilization---industrialization, socialization, urbanization, decolonialism--simply as historical trends, and then again, as the Pastoral Con-stitution on the Church in the Modern World would have us do, .as pointers to a higher reality. They open to man "spiritual vistas long unsuspected." 6 ,Perhaps their spiritual and symbolic significance can be seen more clearly when we recognize them to be signs of the times.7 The Church's duty, if her mission is to be accredited by God,. is to see that the question of God be not left out of any understanding ~ of contemporary history. The Church is dealing here with a "theophany" that has been termed "theonetics," the study of God in change. She is living in a messianic age with an escha-tological thrust--toward the end of time. Christ appeared in the one unique kairos, in the "fullness of time," and the Church is to. appear in His stead, as His' Body, con-tinuously and permanently in the process of time. Her mission in the course of human history is to interpret events and phenomena in such a way as never to let the world lose sight of its creative and redemptive reality, the transcendent and immanent in it. The Church bears witness to the economy of salvation as she sees it unfold-ing itself in history. The times furnish her with the Signs whereby she can be both sensitive to the movement of history and docile to the Holy Spirit helping her inter-pret the signs. She is in the same situation as Israel was when Yahweh was dealing with her in the concrete history Of her people. Failing this task to read the signs. of the times and to recognize their theological implica-tions, the Church abandons the world to its blind his-torical events. Chenu, "Les signes,'; p. 32. See E. Jenni, "Time," The Interpreter's Dictionary o! the Bible, ,1.4. sig,~, Chaa.~, Apostolates VOLUME ~7, ~.968 4, $oseph Fichtner, O$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOU~ Part of the difficulty of such a task is that though the Church is distinct from the world, she is linked up with it. The emphasis throughout her history has fallen upon either of the two, the distinction or the link. Whenever the Church felt the distinction from the world most keenly, she shied away from her duty of evaluating earthly realities or else failed to understand them entirely or too glowly.8 It is far easier to insist upon the current categories of the temporal-spiritual, profane-sacred, civilization-evangelization, creation-redemption, history-salvation, Church-world, nature-grace, than to grasp their interrelationship. If the dualisms emerge too sharply, the Church may treat them too much apart, pass abstract judgment upon them, so that "never the twain shall meet." ¯ Granted, evangelization is not of the same order as civilization. To promote culture is not to convert to the faith. To feed the hungry and give drink to the thirsty is a duty of Christian charity, but it is not equivalent to preaching the word of God, teaching catechetics, or administering the sacraments. And yet the many earthly values are the common capital of all men, believers and unbelievers alike. Wherever they may be found, they afford the good ground for evangelical growth. Without such positive values as order, justice, right, freedom, and so forth, the work of God would have to operate in a vacuum. All human enterprise, personal as well as social, so long as it promotes the good, the true, the just, and the beautiful, is the fulfillment of that hidden potential man has in himself as an image of his Maker. Humanity itself served an incarnational purpose for the Son of God; all the good works of humanity subserve.the further goal of evangelization. All such works and the values attaching to them, because they signal the gradual development of man, his humanisation, are to be considered the prevenient signs and predispositions for the diffusion of the gospel. Man, confronted by the immense resources of nature, including his own almost infinite capacities, becomes more human through the advance of science, technology, culture, and socialization. At the same time he is left open to spiritual values, his personal and social life as it develops presents positive dispositions for the incar-nation of. divine life. For example, the closer he comes to fulfilling his aspiration for peace, the more likely he is to receive "a peace the world cannot give." 9 Major improve- 8 S~e Heinrich Tenhumberg, "The Role of Church Authority in Investigating the Signs of the Times," Third Session Council Speeches of Vatican H, ed. William K. Leahy and Anthony T. Massimini (New York: Paulist Press, 1966), pp. 172-3. See also Paul Gouyon, "Reading the.Signs of the Times," ibid., pp. 154-7. 8 Jn 14:27. ments upon mass communications help the Christian to spread the message of the gospel universally. So in every instance where he is an agent of truly human progress he renders himself fit for or subject to .grace. What scholastic theology calls the "obediential potency" of men is nothing else than man radically-good but now more than ever open and receptive to grace because of .the development of his capacities.10 Popes John and Paul and the Vatican Council have called our attention to the social dimensions of this obediential.potency. A fair illustration and parallel to our times can be taken from early Christianity when the fathers of the Church observed a major and universal phenomenon of their own stage of human evolution, the civilization of the Roman Empire. The socialization in .our day is comparable to the" civilization in theirs. They were ready to describe the civilization of the Roman Empire as an evangelical preparation. The cultural value of language alone, such as the Greek and the Latin, helped them to proclaim the gospel far and wide, though they could have been tradition-bound by the language of their Founder. The worldwide extension of social and political values, moreover, provided them the good ma-terial for the construction of the kingdom of God. They found the Roman Empire to be a meeting, place for Christianity; its cobblestones were the stepping-stones for "the feet of one who brings good news." 11. Earthly realities, however,, do not always and every-where contain pure or undiluted values; their values oftentimes are ambiguous, contaminated by error or sin. The fathers of the Church realized this fact too, but it did not prevent them from sifting the important values from an admixture of good and evil. In the grandeur of nature, though occasionally troubled in land, sky, and sea, they discovered the vestigia Dei, and in the grandeur of a tainted human nature an imago Dei. Mined ore has its measure of slag before its refinement in a smelting furnace. The same is true of labor organization, agrarian reform, social charity, and so forth. The ultimate per-spective of human projects, faulty as they may be in their hesitant beginnings, may go far beyond their im-mediate realization. This is why it is so ne.cessary to read the signs of the times correctly and not let ourselves be confused over realities.which onesidely seem to be stumbling blocks or idols for mankind. In rendering service to the world we cannot help but expose our own weaknesses and limitations. This exposure is unavoidable, and the a0St. Thomas Aquinas, De virtutibus incommuni, a.10, ad 13; 1-2, ci.ll3, a.10. n Is 52:7. Signs~ Chhrisms, Apostolates VOLUME 27~ 1968 77i Church herself admits it in her Pastoral Constitution On the Church in the Modern World: ". the mission of the Church will show its religious, and by that very fact its supremely human character." x2 There will certainly be risks to assume while drawing the good out of all possible resources for building the kingdom of God. But the risks will be diminished to the extent that we recognize and receive the values of the world in the light of the gospel and instinct with faith" and charity. Faith fed by an intensive prayer life will. have to be on the alert to follow God's designs in .the progress of nations. If the risk is great on the one hand, there is no less risk, for lack of faith and discernment, in failing to see the divine interventions in the events of today. Vatican CounCil II was mindful of this risk when it exemplified a discernment of the signs of the times by way of con-trasts, Such a discernment inspired by the Holy Spirit reveals the Spirit working within the signs: "The whole creation is eagerly waiting for God to reveal his sons." in Re.ligious institutes cannot rest content with the papal and conciliar exhortation to discern the signs of the times, nor are they generally qualified to do so without the charisms or gifts of the Holy Spirit. What the Church i~s able to analyze and assess universally, the various religious groups should do locally and periodically, always ready to seek out new solutions for new problems, How else is adaptation to circumstances possible? They might ask themselves questions such as these: What are ¯ the needs of the local community, civic and religious? Do signs of the times show themselves locally, pointing the way for a religious community to promote and take action? Housing projects, job opportunities, educational facilities, cultural programs, ecumenical activities, social charities, and a host of other situations--do they not cry out for that cooperation without which God will not intervene in human events excepting miraculously? As fast as science and technology are moving ahead into the future, can the religious apostolate afford not to re-examine itself periodically? One of the characteristics of the new-style religious life would seem to be presence in an ever changing society. Members are determined to share in the suffering, sacrifice, and conflict affecting society today. ,~÷ But is there not a subtle temptation in thinking'one ,.4. .has to leave his milieu behind in order t.o go "where the ¯÷ action is" ? The local apostolate, along with the charisms befitting it, may well be the first obligation of a religious group. Heinrich Tenhumberg, Auxiliary Bishop of Mfinster, Joseph Fichtner, 0.$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS !772 Article 11. Rom 8:19. Germany, in a speech to the Council Fathers on October 26, 1964, commenting upon the schema of the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, raised the question why in her past the Church too rarely acknowledged the free action of her members who aptly recognized the signs of the times. Fie laid down what he thought were the four conditions for rightly investigating and interpreting the signs of the times, one of which was that "room must be given to a new evaluation of the charisms and gifts of the Holy Spirit among the People of God." 14 Without aspiring to such a mature and correct understanding of the signs of the times, he felt the Church would not be able to "fulfill the will.of God in time." The question Bishop Tenhum-berg raises does not touch upon the fidelity of God to His Church in the modern world, as if He might forsake her in an hour of need; he simply asks whether the Church always utilizes the prophetic gifts which keep her au courant. Of course, the same question can be directed to religious institutes as belonging to the char-ismatic character of the people of God. "Charism" is the near transliteration of a Greek term typically Pauline. It is to be found in the Pauline Epistles and once in the First Epistle of Peter. The latter more or less encapsulates the Pauline idea of a charism: "Each of you has received a special grace, so, like good stewards responsible for all these different graces of God, put yourselves at the service of others." 15 Paul, too, regards the charisms as given to members of the Christian com-munity in trust for the common good of that community. The four lists of charisms he provides indicate how diversified these gifts are, yet none of the lists nor all of them together are ~xhaustive.16 In this enumeration there is no hint of Paul prognosticating about the future needs of the Church and how his lists of charisms are sufficient for them. To envisage the function of each charism for the bene-fit of the whole community, Paul ~onjures up the image of the human body with all of its members contributing to its welfare.~7 The multiplicity of the charisms, rather than manifesting conflict with one another within the totality of the body or tearing it apart, tend toward its 14 Tenhumberg, "The Role," p. 174. The first, second, and fourth conditions are: a renewed theology of the Holy Spirit and of His life and activity within the Church; a renewal of biblical and patris-tic theology; a new style of Church authority and a new method for it to act, watch, and judge. ~ 1 Pt 4:10. See a preconciliar explanation of the charismatic element in the Church by Karl Rahner, The Dynamic Element in the Church (New York: Herder and Herder, 1964), pp. 42-83. an I Cor 12:8-10, 28-30; Rom 12:6-8; Eph 4:11. a~ See Rom 12:4-6. + + + Signs, ~harisms, Apostolates VOLUME 27, 1968 77~ ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph Fichtner, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS unity. In this connection it is interesting to compare the Pauline idea of this totalizing effect of the charisms with the opinion expressed by St. Hippolytus of Rome in his introduction to the Apostolic Tradition, a third-century document. He asserts that "all charisms which from the beginning God gave to man in accordance with his will, restore to man the image which was lost." The early Church thought of the apostolate as the first of the spiritual gifts entrusted to her by Christ. It was itself a charism. Scripture, particularly the Pauline writings, witness to the fact that the Twelve did not lay exclusive claim to the title of "apostle." Probably because they felt the need of the assistance of others, they invested the rest with some of their own power and called them "apostles." The apostolate and the prophetic spirit was, for Paul, the foundation of the Church, with Christ as its cornerstone,is The apostolate was a spiritual gift he treasured much, and that is why he so frequently re-ferred to it. A closer investigation into the charisms of the early Church and their meaning and use bears out the fact that the early Church was so convinced o~ her charismatic role under the influence and guidance of the Holy Spirit that it has led some scholars, peering back into that time, to be-lieve the Church to have been entirely charismatic and not at all hierarchical and institutional. Relating the role of the Holy Spirit to the mystery of the Church, the Dog-matic Constitution on the Church takes issue with such a stand, stating: "He [the Holy Spirit] furnishes and directs her [the Church] with various gifts, both hierar-chical and charismatic, and adorns her with the fruits of His grace (cf. £ph 4:11-12; 1 Cor 12:4; Gal 5:22)." 19 Part and parcel of her charismatic structure is the re-ligious life, and only within this structure does it find its authentic ecclesial dimension. Paul esteemed the apostolate to be a gift and a de-manding task at one and the same time. It would be foolish of us to think the early Christians were buoyed up by a host of fancy, even magical, spiritual gifts and had to exert no effort of their own. We do them an in-justice in imagining their life was surrounded with the miraculous. A good glance at some of their charisms will tell how much need there was for personal and communal effort. Works of mercy--nursing, almsgiving, adminis-tration, fraternal help of every kind--cost effort on their part. So did the preaching, teaching, and discernment of spirits. All such charisms had to be met halfway by men of good will .and selflessness; they demanded that same See Eph 2:20. Article 4. human enterprise and exertion which we ~aw had to be put into a periodic reappraisal of thh signs of the times. For some time before Vatican II theology was reluc-tant to teach that charisms belong to the contemporary Church. Theology was wont to confine the charisms to the primitive Church and to limit them characteristically to the miraculous or extraordinar~y. Vatican II changed all that theological opinion. Little and great charisms have existed throughout the history of the Church. As we read in the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, the Holy Spirit "distributes special graces among the faith-ful of every rank . These charismatic gifts, whether they be the most outstanding or the more ,simple and widely diffused, are to be received with thanksgiving and consolation, for they are exceedingly suitable and useful for the needs of the Church." 20 There seems to be no reason then to hold the early Church to have been more richly endowed with charisms than the Church today. In the Church then as now charisms are spiritual gifts bestowed freely especially for the benefit of others. Wherever one discovers the incon-spicuous service of the Church, no matter how small the ecclesial operation, there, in such gifts, one will likely detect some sort of divine intervention. However slight a manifestation of loving service, it may conceal a gift of the Spirit of Christ. Charisms may be found together wherever one sees the accumulated effect of a sign. Charismatic gifts are not only rare and extraordinary but common and ordinary. Anyone who is willing to expend himself for Christ in heroic fidelity to common-place, everyday things is gifted with a charism. Under the common thing the hidden grace. The gifts of the Holy Spirit are deeper, more hidden and widespread or pervasive than we know. Who is to set limits upon His gifts in our life? Are we too inclined to look for gifts only in the spectacular, the colossal, the newsworthy, like finding a solution to wars, social problems, ecclesias-tical enigmas? Many are the gifts wrapped in the small packages of fidelity to duty, kindness, sincerity, purity, courage, truthfulness, trust, love. At this point it may be time to push Bishop Tenhumberg's argument one notch further by asking if there is any possibility at all of interpreting the signs of the times unless charisms are better employed? How closely interconnected, in fact, intermingled are charisms with the signs of the times? Do we have to speak of them as "values" to observe how they overlap? St. Paul never meant to enumerate all the Charisms of Article 12. ÷ ÷ ÷ Signs, Chazisms~ Apostolates VOLUME 27, 1968 + + ÷ .loseph Fichtner, O .S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the Spirit at work in his day, possibly because he did not discern them all; nor is it possible for us to list them in our own day, excepting to mention, as he did, that there are varieties of gifts, all of which are intended for the good of the Church. Gifts of nature, talent, skill, com-petence, which often are the substratum of grace and are not easily told apart from it, are not to be hoarded or stingily communicated. Were it possible to paraphrase I Corinthians 12, we would have to say that the variety of gifts discloses itself somewhat differently now than in early Christianity. Perhaps this variety shows up in in-telligence or scholarship or scientific research, social reforms, artistic talent, catechetical skill, pediatrics, ger-ontology, the schooling of exceptional children, liturgical zeal, youth programming, public relations, apostolic en-deavor, mystical bent, and so forth. Gifts of all kinds, specializations, are useful and necessary in the Church in the modern world and are not to be bottled up or hidden. Nor will they function properly if restricted to a loner or a clique. They will dictate the abandoning of some apos-tolates and the assuming of others. Various gifts of the Spirit should enable Christians to work together harmoniously in the Church, for though the gifts are many they are one in the Spirit. In the Decree on the Apostolate of ~he Laity the unity of the apostolate is accentuated, however variously it may ex-press itself: "From the reception of these charisms or gifts, including those which are less dramatic, there arise for each believer the right and duty to use them in the Church and in the world for the good of mankind and for the upbuilding of the Church." ~ Since no one can claim all the gifts, their very diversity can do service in many apostolates and fit together into a fine pattern of apostolic activity. St. Paul wrote about this unity because he himself was faced with the Corinthian quarreling over gifts as though they were held in contention or competition: "There is a variety of gifts but always the same Spirit, there are all sorts of service to be done, but always to the same Lord; working in all sorts of different ways in different people, it is the same God who is work-ing in all of them." ~z Whereas Paul had in mind char-isms belonging to individuals, it seems more appropriate to think that nowadays the charisms are diffused among groups of men and women who are willing to pool their capabilities and resort to consultation and con-certed action. The Spirit confers communal charisms as well as individual. Charity, according to Paul, is their unifying factor, and therefore he stresses the fact that charity outranks ~XArticle 3. =1Cor 12:4-6. them all. Charity motivates the recipients of the gifts to employ them for the common good of mankind. Charity too allows us who live in a community to appreciate the variety of gifts distributed among the members, so that each person can be different because of them even when we do not comprehend why he is so gifted or how he is so effective with his gifts. We must leaim to be patient, tolerant, and sensitive to one another, letting another employ his gift(s) as he sees fit as long as he is not misguided in his zeal and effort (how can a so-called charism square with" an otherwise questionable life?).- The function of gifts cannot be legislated in complete detail, nor can everybody in every circumstance abide by such detail. Practical matters simply cannot be regula.ted unanimously. But it may take charismatic courage to say "No" to a trend or policy or spirit which proves to be wrong and damaging to the Church. Egotism sometimes blinds us to the divine goodness in the many splendid achievements, the human values, round about us. Humility, contrariwise, prompts us to behold the marvels of God's grace. Charismatic goodness is to 'be found abundantly in the Church' and society if we would only peel from our eyes the scales of our selfish-ness. We are tempted to look only for the things which suit our fancy. ,At times, no doubt, the charismatic may frighten us or appear threatening because it is novel and catches us by surprise. It may be shocking, and yet upon investigation it may reveal a hidden or unknown contlnmty with something of the past. Liturgical change, for example, may startle today but in itself be a revival of a tradition dating back to the early Church. Charismatic leaders ¯ may be criticized for their bumptiousness or impetuosity; -they may obe called untraditional or subversive; their spirit may be attributed to a yen for change. They and their gifts may meet with contradiction, apathy, sloth, delay, distrust, because not all others discern their true value or the Spirit introducing them into the Church and society. Difficult as it is to sense the Spirit at work among charismatic leaders, it is no less difficult for the charis-matic leaders themselves to be sure of their own inspira-tions and enthusiasms. The uncertainty within themselves is compounded by the opposition they inevitably meet from without. Men like Gandhi, John XXIII, and Martin Luther King, Jr. exemplify the point at hand. We who are caught up .in the crosscurrents sweeping through the Church at the present time easily recognize the signs of opposition. They are like the churning waters left behind by a ship, the wake of its effort to plow ahead through the rampaging sea. + + Signs, Charinm, Apostolates ~OI.UME 27, 1968 777 + ÷ ÷ ]o, seph Fichtner, . . 0.$.~,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 7.78 This opposition is mild in comparison with the re-jection the true apostle has to contend with while follow-ing Christ in the modern world: rejection by his enemies because what he upholds or promotes is hostile to them, and rejection by his own who fail to understand him or his gift(s). The cost of apostleship and discipleship is sul~ering-- the sacrifice of earthly ties, possessions, life itself. What uncompromising zeal is necessary for the disciple as he assumes the cost of his charism. Christ expected His followers to encounter suffering, at least the pain of carrying out the burden or responsibility of a charism.23 It is painful to realize charismatic limitations, painful to be humbled by other charismatic activities which clash with ours. Not all gifts are operative in the Church at the same time, so they will have to bide their time. The important thing to remember is that the charisms meant for the apostolate place their recipients in the service of Christ who was a suffering Servant for His people. Since Vatican Council II considered the religious way of life to be charismatic and apostolic, it is only to be expected that this life should suffer through its current attempts at self-renewal. The charism of the religious founder was the germ of "the original inspiration of a given community," 24 which has to undergo the pain of growth. The retention or modification of that charism which he injected in his community can cause suffering especially when the personal charisms of members are in conflict with it. The Spirit communicates a "spirit" determinative of "the particular character of each com-munity," which can put the community at odds with ecclesiastical authority and occasion large-scale dissatis-faction. 25 Thus the vital principle of a religious com-munity can be at one and the same time the source of its sanctity and the cause for the purification of its orig-inal gift. The most agonizing encounters with ecclesias-tical authority occur in the field of the apostolate, a fact confirmed by contemporary examples. Yet Vatican II admitted it was "by divine plan that a wonderful variety of religious communities' grew up" with "the diversity of their spiritual endowments." 2n This is an admission that the Spirit of Christ communi-cates directly and not necessarily or always through "~ See Lk 14:25-35. ~ Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Lile, Article 2. See M. Olphe-Galliard, s.J., "Le charisme des [ondateurs religieux," Vie consacrge, v. 39 (1967), pp. 338-52. ~Decree on the Bishops' Pastoral O0~ce in the Church, Article 35.2." 28Decree on the Appropriate Renewal oI the Religious Lile, Ar-ticle 1. hierarchical channels. By their initiative and creativity, in accordance with their special gifts, religious com-munities initiate movements which only later may be taken up by authority. Their apostolates lie at the fron-tiers of the Church, supported by the gifts, small and great, of the Holy Spirit. The ultimate norm of the religious life is "a following of Christ as proposed by the gospel." z7 The gospel pic-tures Jesus addressing himself to the J.ews who were accusing Him of blasphemy, speaking of Himself as "someone the Father consecrated and sent into the world." 28 Christ in turn called others to this same ~onsecration and same mission, that is, ap6stolate. They had to give up all things to follow Him. Religious have appropriated to themselves the word spoken by Peter the Apostle: "We have left everything and fol-lowed you." 29 Christ called fishermen and a tax collector to the apostolate: "Follow me.''30 This call to obedience meant adherence to the Person of Jesus Christ and fellowship with Him. Before Christ entrusted any offices to His followers, He established a community among them with Himself at the center; He shaped them into a Christocentric community. The early apostolic life was not motivated by some form of hero worship but by obedience to the Son of God. The Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Re-ligious Life devotes an entire article to a discussion of the apostolate.31 After explaining in Article 5 that the life of religious is "an act of special consecration [to Christ] which is deeply rooted in their baptismal con-secration and which provides an ampler manifestation of it," the decree shows how its basic unity is diversified in two vocations, corttemplative and apostolic. The special consecration can be lived in two ways because of its twofold orientation. Vatican Council II was look-ing at the religious life phenomenologically: it saw therein two principal orientations, one toward con-templation, the other toward the apostolate. The religious apostolate then must stem from the special consecration to Christ; it is an apostolic con-secration. The religious apostolate is not simply a gesture, a sort of outward and incidental manifestation of the love consecrated men and women have for Christ. It is ~ Ibid., Article 2. 's Jn 10:36. =~ Mt 19:27. ~ Mk 2:14. ~ Article 8. See £. Pin, S.J., "Les instituts religieux apostoliques et le changement so¢io-culturel," Nouvelle revue thdologique, v. 87 (1965), pp. 395-411. ÷ ÷ ÷ Signs, ~Tharisms, Apostolates VOLU~E ~7; i~3 779 ÷ Joseph Fich0t~n.e(~r,. REV[EW FOR RELIGIOUS rather a concrete and unmistakable love expressed in a life '!committed to apostolic works." 32 In Article 8 we read about the "various aspects of the apostolate," how religious groups make diversified con-tributions to the common good of the Church. These contributions, the decree points out, derive from the varieties of gifts given to the groups by the Holy Spirit. The varieties of gifts determine to a large extent, though not fully, the specific apostolic orientation a religious group takes--teaching, nursing, social work, home and foreign missions, and so forth. Although the decree does not refer to it explicitly, it implicitly wants religious to consider the interrelationship of signs of the times, charisms, and apostolates: "Communitie.~ should promote among their members a suitable awareness of contem-porary human conditions and of th~ needs of the Church. For if their members can combine the burn-ing zeal of an apostle with wise judgments, made in the light of faith, concerning the circumstances of the modern world, they will be able to come to the aid of men more elfectively."3a Such studies as psychology, sociology, anthropology, economics, political science, can be the humanistic basis for the charisms to be more under-standing of and productive in the world. In a second paragraph within Article 8 the council links closely two spirits that should dominate each other in the religious life, the religious and the apostolic. Without such interlinking the religious life would suffer and die. The key statement to this effect is the following: "Flence the entire religious life of the rdembers of these communities should be penetrated by an apostolic spirit, as their entire apostolic activity should be ani-mated by a religious spirit." Here we touch upon a delicate point of the spiritual renewal asked "for by Vatican II--the possibility of failure to renew a spirit while changes are made "on behalf of contemporary needs." "Indeed such an interior renewal must always be accorded the leading role even in the promotion of exterior works." a4 Of course it is impossible to set any determinate, calculable hours apart for each, prayer and apostolate, but it is essential to realize that the two go hand in hand. In order to avoid the idea that perhaps apostolic works will lead to the danger of activism, to a self-seeking in the apostolate, to immoderate desire for action, to some sentimental involvement in the lives of others, the council asserted that "apostolic activity should ~ See the first reference in footnote $1. ~ Article 2. ~ Decre~ on th~ ,4ppropriate Renewal o/th~ Religious Life, Arti-cle 2. result from intimate union with" Christ.35 It would not have a Christlike spirit and would be torn from an apos-tolic witness, a body of Christianity without a Heart. The prayer itself of religious should be apostolic. Normally they will make their own the petition in Christ's prayer: "Thy kingdom come"--all the spiritual interests confided to the community. Daily community prayer will embrace all the persons who are in the in-timate care of the community: personnel, students, patients, fellow religious, all who depend upon the community for their spiritual sustenance. Instead of being an evasion of apostolic duty, wrongly inspired by the idea that the community can cure every evil and help everyone with prayer alone, its apostolic prayer will be a catharsis and a strength .for apostolic activity. Its members will not dilute their prayer life with all the worry and anxiety they experience throughout their daily apostolate. Apostolic prayer will be for them a humble and confident conversation with Christ who may find them worthy of His own fiery love for the people His Father committed to Him to redeem. A community closely bound together is prone to feel that its communitarian link conditions its form of presence and activity in the world. Community life of itself is not necessarily opposed to an effective presence and activity in the world. But its members obligate them-selves to live this tension between presence in the world and presence in a community till the' eschatological day when the Church and world will be entirely one. No matter how well they try to regulate their life, there will inevitably be some tension between religious observance and apostolic works, between the structural and the ~harismatic. It would be an easy solution to turn the time for observances into an apostolically disordered life. The regular community observance has apostolic meaning and purpose. Perhaps this tension can be eased by better budgeting and managing of time and service. Better management will help to avoid the two extremes of a rigid formalism on the one hand and a disordered and frantic life on the other. The former is harmful to the apostolate, the latter arouses anxiety or qualms of conscience. All the discussion nowadays against structure and the institutional Church can do harm to what is good and useful of structure and the institutional Church. Some sort of structure and a prudently regulated observance is an indispensable aid to religious life and to the apostolate. To take an example from family life--how much family life remains if members come and go as they Ibid., Article 8. 4- 4- 4- Signs, Charisms, Apostolates VOLUME 27, 1968 781 ÷ ÷ ÷ $oseph Fichtner, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS please without any recourse to a schedule for meals, sleep, work, recreation, and especially to a steady inter-communication? The same holds true for religious life:. a moderate observance is a precious boon to it. On the other hand, observance for its own sake is obnoxious. It is bound to incite a harmful restlessness, to sap energy, paralyze effort, or invite either pharisaical regu-larity or intentional neglect. Vatican II was rather in-sistent that this point of observance be looked into and brought up to date. The decree carefully notes that a high-spirited and level-headed apostolate will itself nurture rather than ruin the love for God and neighbor. The question is, how will it nurture this love? First of all, by putting to rest that old fear of an apostolate, genuine and sincere, somehow detracting from the love of God. The council will go down in history, particularly for its Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, in seeing signs of the times which hold promise of much good for the human community. While speaking of the religious apostolate, it remarks about this same good as the field for religious to harvest. The religious apos-tolate, therefore, will nurture love in two ways: first by peace, secondly by stimulus. Peace will accrue from it because the religious will learn that his effort and fatigue are the sincere and au-thentic expression of his love for God. There is much comfort in knowing, deep down in his heart, that he is doing the will of God in the apostolic task assigned to him and for which his charism suits him. Obedience to an assignment with all the hardship and suffering it entails, is a participation in the obedience of Christ. Christ felt real contentment in the fulfillment of His duty toward His Father. "My food is to do the will of the one who sent me, and to complete his work." 86 At the same time the apostolic religious will be stim-ulated to love more, for the apostolate will impress him with need for fidelity to prayer and to a rule of life. He will recognize at once that any lack of zeal on his part amounts to a lack of love, zeal being the fruit of love. Insufficient love springs from an insufficient union with God. Christ turned to prayer in the midst of a busy apostolate and denied Himself sleep in order to pray often and for long spells. Such prayer instilled in His heart a greater love for souls, greater patience, and more courage. This has been an endeavor to weave together the complementary aspects of the signs of the times, charisms, and apostolates especially as they pertain to religious ~ Jn 4:34. institutes. Religious institutes too, inasmuch as they have a charismatic role in the Church and society, have to examine the signs of the times locally and periodically in order to see what apostolates are open~to them and whether they have the charisms most suited to contem-porary needs. All three--signs of the times, charisms, and apostolates--mesh into a single program of life and work under the guidance o[ the Holy Spirit and in the light o[ faith and charity. Signs, Charisrns, Apostolates VOLUME 27, 1968 KEVIN F. O'SHEA, C.Ss.R. The "Security Void" + ÷ Kevin F. O'Shea, C.Ss.P., writes from St. Mary's Monas-tery; Wendouree; Ballarat, Victoria; Australia. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Two years ago Dan Herr wrote in The Critic of a "piety void": the deep loss felt by many people since older "devotions" have been downgraded and have lost their force, and the new "liturgy" is not yet meaning-fully established. The "piety void" is only one aspect of the "security void": a deep unhappiness experienced by many, since older "securities" have been challenged and nothing seems to have replaced them. This diagnosis contends that two basic types of security are in conflict: a security of absolute norms, and a security of committed love. It analyses them only in the area of external au-thority and obedience (though it might well take in areas of moral conscience, faith and doctrine, and voca-tional role and ideal). Each of the two "approaches" to security to be out-lined here could claim (and has claimed) roots in St. Thomas. It is necessary to distinguish between theory, translation of theory into experience, translation of experience into inspirational-motif, translation ol in-spirational- moti[ into formula, translation o[ [ormula into a workable living pattern. Any fully developed "ap-proach" to a profoundly human value (like security) includes all five: theory, experience, inspirational-motif, formula, and workable living pattern. Of the two ap-proaches to security to be developed here, the first (the "older") can be considered initially as "fully developed" in this sense; the second ("the modern") cannot. Both could agree at root in the theory of St. Thomas; each then develops a different experience and inspirational-motif; the "older" possesses its clear formulas and work-able living patterns, which are now challenged by the "modern"; the "modern" is not yet equipped with these elements, and for that reason is deprecated by the "older." Here lies the problem of analysis: here lies finally the root of the "security void" itself. A security of absolute norms is the fruit of a rational-ized approach to society. Accepting the common aim and the need for organized action to attain it, the members of a society accept also a human authority that will give it firmness, sureness, stability, and "security" in the I'face of conflicting human attitudes within it. When a superior, in whom such authority is vested, make~ an authoritative precept, it becomes normative for the society; only in obedience to that norm can that society continue with security. Security is conceived as unified and efficiently ordered action; it stems from "managerial authority." When the subjects obey, they conform their practical thought and action to the authoritative precept given them, out of respect for authority and out of love for the well-ordered existence of the society and its "security." Their obedience is intelligent, even rational: it is logical for them to obey, given their commitment to such values. When in fact their theoretical assessment of a situation differs from the dictate of authority, they will then sacrifice the advantage they believe they might bring to the common interest, to the greater good of the unchallenged reign of authority and for the noble end it serves, the societyrs "security." This is no infantile submission to the "will" of a master: it is the manly conformity of those who see greater value in their sacrifice than in their independent achievement. Their con-science is honored; and they have the personal, ful-fillment of being rightly ordered to the values they cherish, rather than the less esteemed fulfillment of mastery through their own pattern of action. At .times, recourse might duly be had to higher authority; but always in the interests of greater security for the com-mon interest. This is the theory; it has been lived in a way that subtly turns authority into something more absolute. It is assumed in'practice that the order ~1: the society to its common aim, its security, and its continued existence, depend on absolute obedience to its authority at all times. Despite the theory (which would allow for the balance of one human law with another, and with natural and divine law, andfor the use of epikeia as a x;irtue and not simply as a legal loophole), visible division from authority in any matter commanded is considered a supreme, scandal and an absolute evil. We suspect here a practical transition from general policies (the principle of respect for authority) to particu-lar details (the absoluteness of this dictate, in which the whole meaning of authority is seen to be at stake); we sus.pe~t a practical equation of what is authorized for the society with what is objectively good (and best) for the society--of the practical .and the theoretical advantages of the society; we suspect even that authority is almost conceived as the end of the society itself. In this way the basic theory has been hardened through experience towards a stress on absolute loyalty to authority at all VOLUME 27, 1768 785 + ÷ ÷ Kevin O'Shea, C.Ss.R. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS costs, as the~ esprit de corps and inspirational-motif of society. The formulas of the basic theory are read in this sense, and the workable living patterns enshrine it. In practice, then, it is in the "absolute norms" of authority that man finds his security in society. For an "older" generation such unchallenged security alone was possible. This same approach underlies even a mystical view of the Church as the Body of Christ growing to its fullness under the guidance of the Spirit. It is through the charisms that the Spirit rules the Church; and to some He gives the charism of discerning the direction that might be taken with profit; to others He gives the charism of expressing .this conviction publicly; while to the apostolic hierarchy alone He gives the charism of placing God's definitive seal of approval on any plan. It . is through the hierarchy alone that salvation history can finally and authoritatively be formed: the word of the hierarchy is the word of the Lord. When a member of the Church obeys the hierarchy, he acts out of deep reverence for their office and for the divine plan of history in the Church. He thinks it is better for Christ to be revered in His bishops than for Christ to be helped by independent action but dishonored by an apparent. schism between His members. He gives up .what he hitherto thought to be the desire of the Spirit, for the word of the hierarchy, which He authentically knows to be the desire of the Spirit. This is the theory, and it is not hard to see how it has absolutized the practice of obedience in the church. An episcopal command has been regarded as a divinely absolute norm in which alone the Church can continue to live and grow in Christ. The apostolic placer is the will of God and is the security of the Church. It is the absolute norm for a Christian who wants to live in the Church and follow God's plan. We suspect here the root of the attitude of simple acceptance in many of the faithful who look on all pronouncements of ecclesiastical authority as though they were of the same univocal value; we suspect here a certain voluntarism by which God's ideal plan for man in the Church is identified with God's here and now (permissive?) will expressed through the hierarchy. A mystique of security in the Church stems from this lived attitude. A personal approach to community today suggests another kind of security--the "security of committed love." It begins with the axiom that man is a living and loving person. He is called to give himself to others in generosity, sacrifice, and service. In this "self-spending" he really "becomes" a person. There is in man, then, a native instinct (blunted by sin but given new point by grace) to yield, in love, to others whom he serves. It could be called "obedience," but it is not what is strictly and technically described as social obedience. It is prior to the existence or recognition of any social au-thority; it is an intrinsic function of love. It goes far beyond the demands of organization; it is directed to persons not to abstract values. Man then has to live his life in situations in which he experiences in his conscience the call to such love and serf-giving to others. In this call he hears the voice o[ love itself, which is God. In it he recognises the eter-nal law of absolute Love. He needs these situations if he is going to meet this Love and experience its challenge; they channel it to him as "mediations" of Love. He also needs these situations if he is going to respond to this Love and live up to its demands; they are the ambient, the milieu in which he can grow in it. Such human situations, which are. not of man's mak-ing, are in no way opposed to man's love. His love acts, not against them, but within them. As human, his love needs them. The basic situation thus needed is the situation of "personal community." We do not refer, to a community of traditions and practices, or to a community of meth~ ods and pooled skills, but to a community of persons who strive to live together in a. truly personal and serf-giving way. They are a "people" together, a true "comm.unity," blending together their instinctive desire for love and self-giving. Within such a community, the call to Love is heard and answered; the community is the "mediation" and the "milieu" of the eternal law of Love. Love can find itself only within such a community; it is an intrinsically demanded "structure" of love, a permanent, developed, and basic situation of human love. Considerably more is meant here, of course, than what is usually read into the concept of a society, effi-ciently organized to achieve a common aim. In com-munity, persons experience a sense of belon~,tng, of. "being together," of loving together. The integration_ of person with person, of personal attitude and ideal with personal attitude and ideal, as they yield to one another and serve one another and together serve others, is the basic horizon needed for all human life. In this sense, community "serves" man. Within such a community, there is need for celebra-tioh; such real love and togetherness need to be sym-bohzed and feted. Within such a community, there is also need for leadership; such love needs to be given open and significant expression within the community Security Void VOLUME 27, 1968 Kevin O'Shea~ REVIEW FOR RELI~IOUS 788 and radiated outward to those who do not yet know it. Such celebrations and leading-actions are the high-points of community life. Without them, the community does not live, symbolically, in the hearts of the persons who form it, and does not supply them with action-situa-tions for ever deeper personal love. The community needs such events, and therefore it needs within it an oOice responsible for assuring their presence. Those who bear this office are rightly considered to have special eminence in the community, and to them the open-ness of all members of the community is especially directed. Those who bear this office are in a real sense the pivots and sttpports of the community-structure which serves personal love. The acceptance, the reverence, and the "obedience" they are given is fundamental to the commitment of community love and transcends the limits of merely social obedience. At the same time, the office we describe is not strictly social authority but something prior to it. If in fact in a given community there is also social authority (and thus also social obedience), they/viii be fully integrated, on their lower level, into these primary values. Authority must spring spontaneously from the community-office of celebration and leadership; obedience must spring spon-taneously from integration into community, availability to the action of the community, and reverent acceptance of those who hold office in the community. It is clear that when in fact such true social obedience is called for, it will possess a unique a~ective tone. It wi!l be an obedience within community love. It will simply pinpoint the readiness to yield which is there in the community prior to any legal precept. It is more a privilege than a duty. There are two major differences between this and the pattern of obedience previously described in the "older" approach. First, it claims the right to integrate the external com-mand into the claims of Love as heeded in conscience and lived in the community. The subject to whom the external authority speaks "hears" the dictate externally and then asks himself what it "means,' to him in his community-conscience, as a moral imperative of Love. He does not assume, absolutely and universally, that every external command will always automatically mean such a demand of Love. He does not assume, absolutely and universally, that always and in every ~case personal sacrifice must be made to the higher role of this authority. He will not grant, beforehand, that' authority is the main thing in a given situation but will assess the claims of authority in relation to the claims Of community love itself. He will'make this assessment as a person, in open-ness with the persons who form his community and hold office and authority in it. He will grant that normally and in many cases authority-claim (legal imperative) will mean community-claim and love-claim (moral imperative): but he will not a priori equate the two. He will grant that he must make his decision in this matter in deep responsibility of conscience, but he will think that such responsibility is part of his duty in a community of this kind. This first point is claiming more than the simple state-ment that a true imperative (legal and therefore moral) can objectively be in point but may or may not be grasped subjectively by a given person in invincible ignorance because of environmental circumstances. It is an expres-sion o[ an attitude to obedience that springs from the inspiration of the community-love theme. In theory it may not be saying more than is said in classic positions concerning epikeia and the balance of laws and incon-veniences, but it is said in the spirit of an experience different from the experience that has concretely inter-preted and presented the classic positions. Whatever our final judgment of it, a new point of view is expressed here. Secondly, by way of balance, in this obedience there is always a willingness to go beyond legal demands and to go beyond the hard and fast line of what is obligatory by authority. It does not like to stop at what must be done; it looks for what can be done. The final criterion of action is not what legal authority says (or does not say); it is what the situation really demands of the conscience of those involved. The external authority and its statement are respected as part of the total situa-tion in which the imperative of conscience is seen and in which it must act, but it is recognized that the total situation may at times and even often require more than the external authority has stated. Such obedience must be recognized as magnanimous: it acts, not in con-straint, but in love. Once again, it is an expression of attitude that is in point here, flowing from the basic inspiration of the meaning of community. In theory, it is saying no more than the classic position says of the primacy of charity over social obedience, the unity of all the virtues in love, and the rights of personal conscience. But it is expressed in a new enthusiasm arising from a new ex-perience. It is a different point of view from the "old." In the concrete the obedience morally recognized by the person in a given situation will be a determination of the tension between the first and second point: be-tween the right of personal integration into his respon-sible community love, and the duty of personal tran-÷ ÷ ÷ Security Void VOLUME 27, 1968 789 ÷ ÷ Kevin O '.SShs.eRa.~ REWEW FOR RELIGIOUS 790 scendence of the limits of an external command. If this resolution were consistently in the direction of ignoring the external command, it would not be authentic to its own inspiration; for it would not be recognizing the genuinely "normative" character of authority in the community.It is not the "norm" that is refused; it is the assumption that the norm is "absolute." When this obedience is given, it is not lacking in the formal motiva-tion of social obedience, for it does yield to authority as such, but within a community context. The real ques-tion is: When this obedience is not given (in the usual form of conformity to the external command), is it objectively defective in the essential moral value of obedience? But the question is not one of theory, as we have repeatedly shown; it is one of interpretation of the "formula" used as a guideline, as a workable living pattern. It is less a question of what is externally done (or not done) on a particular occasion; it is more a ques-tion of what is the psychology behind it and how it could stand with, and not destroy, the genuine psychol-ogy of social obedience. For a person who forms his mind on these personalist lines cannot have a psychological security of absolute norms. He must find a new type of security elsewhere: in the absoluteness of his commitment to Love and to self-giving and to community in the sincerity of his own conscience; in the relative service that he finds for this in the structures of community, with its members, and their offices, and their common acdon. His is the security of committed love and appreciated structures. The "absoluteness" here is genuine but new: it includes the impredictability of human love, and the incalculable progress of providence. This same personalist approach underlies a sense of the Church as the "people" of God, impelled by the Holy Spirit of Love. The Church is a divinely created, supernaturally indefectible home-situation of truly per-sonal love and sacrifice. It is through and in the Church as a community that the voice of eternal Love in Christ comes to the conscience of her members. It is through and in the Church as a community that her members respond to this voice and live their self-gift to others and to Love itself. Ttie Church is being rediscovered as a community; the Constitution on the Church of Vatican II places its chapter on the "people of God" prior to its discussion of the place of the hierarchy within the people of God. The community of the Church is the natural horizon of our love as it is divinized in Christ; the Church in this sense is indeed the pillar and the very "ground" of Love. In this sense she serves the mystery of human love by creating the conditions for it to. be real. In the Church, the hierarchy, vested with the office of liturgical celebration and of missionary ex-pansion of the Church's mystery of love, and vested also with true social authority to rule the people of God, be-comes the pivot and the support of this "ground" of love. This is why the members of the Church, .as they carry each other's burdens and so fulfill the law of love, look on the Church with reverence as their "mother," even when they see her humble limitations. It is not initially a sense of duty and of obedience that binds them to the Church and to the hierhrchy; it is a sense of vocation and of belonging, since they are meant for her and cannot truly love outside of her. "Outside of m~, you can do nothing." This is why the same nuance of obedience enters here within the Church as we noticed on the gen-eral level: the entire problematic of authority-obedience itself serves the deeper problematic of community-love. At pre~ent there is a conflict, within and without the Church, between those who maintain a long established modus vivendi based on and leading to security of ab-solute norms, and those who demand the creation of a new modus vivendi based on and leading to security of committed love. It is certain that the "older" pattern is well established. It is only recently that it has been challenged; and the challenge has been resented, with shock, by the "older" generation. They have experienced a unique insecurity on seeing the very principles of their security openly questioned, on finding the present age disenchanted with the absoluteness of the old ways and seemingly submerged in the pure relativism of love. They have been asked, implicitly at least, to approve patterns of action in others that are completely at variance with their own inner orientation to norm-security and even to accommodate their own mentality and pattern of action to them. They cannot believe that their own generous sacrifice and 'heroic loyalty over a lifetime have been unnecessary and that their conscious foundation of security is chimerical. They tend to harden the "essential" theory of authority-obedience- security, in the language they have always known it, into the one and only workable living pattern they have known and to admit no other. They feel now that the essential props of their security are under attack. It is certain too that the "new" pattern is noble in its inspiration. Because it is noble and even more because it is new, it tends to remain as yet in the order of ideals and even of inspirational "slogans" (for example, "personal fulfillment," the need for "dialogue") and has not yet formed for itself a realistic working pattern. Its ÷ ÷ ÷ Security Void VOLUME 27, 1968 791 + + Kevi~t O'Shea, C.Ss.R. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS idealism is tender to attack and resents the fact that others cannot understand it but reject it and even regard it as harmful. The "new" generation cannot believe that they ought honestly regard their ideals as unreal and settle for the pseudo-satisfaction of security through absolute norms and legal authority. They tend to stiffen their allegiance to their principles and to be insecure precisely because they know they are not yet accepted or put into practice at community level. It is Strange that precisely here the "new" generation may be rather unfaithful to its own principles. Instead of placing their real security in committed love and self-giving, they seem to insist---immediately---on the security of acceptance in the "older" community; they want their values upheld and identified as legitimate and valid, they want to be understood by others and not thought rebels, they want to be integrated, as they are, into their community's way of life and tradition which they feel that they do not violate but practice in a new way. Would that they have all this; but is it primary to their own principles? At all events, a certain paralysis is taking hold of protagonists of both points of view, which is deepening their insecurity. It happens especially where there has been little attempt at renewal of commonity living structures; where a tradition of legalistic obedience has set up a quasi-divine right of the establishment; where a system of bureaucracy or a veil of anonymity or a pro-tection of prestige has been used to give firmness to the status quo without facing the issues; where a policy of "via media" or of "prudence" is used merely to cover a refusal to do anything; where there is a visible split into parties "for" and "against" the new idealism; where in such mental alienation of one group from another, action comes mainly from party politics, dominant personalities, or emotional enthusiasms created by prop-aganda; where unkind name-slinging is used to make real dialogue and acceptance impossible. Here a critical impasse is soon reached; only the external signs of true community remain. Even those who try to remain tran-quil are misjudged; they are thought insincere in the face of a common anxiety. Men go through the motions of what they have always done, or would wish to do, without the fulfillment that ought to come from it. They live in a "security void." It is made acute when they refuse the obvious dilemma of the situation: rebel or accept. The malaise can be cured by neither; neither by open irreverence, public agitation, mental alienation from the whole situation, refusal to cooperate, invocation of one's rights (from legal authority or from conscience), retreat into one's , I work; nor by timidly coveting up and finding a false refuge in permission (of authority or of conscience), or by the cowardice of giving away all serious attempt at idealism (of whatever form) and settling for no security at all. Those who rightly refuse these false avenues know that they have no anchorage left; they are nonplused and beaten. There is a "credibility gap" between themselves and any founded security, a wavering of trust in asking completely serious questions at all. In this fundamental disillusionment they cease to live in the presence of a liberating truth (since they refuse the falsehood of double truth, one of idealism and another of reality). Their life becomes shallow and superficial, and. their work is not reliable. This is the "security void." This study is a diagnosis, not a solution. It can con, dude with a simple suggestion of seven thoughts, to .be pondered in the present crisis. (1) The theory behind the "new" personalist position is m reality no different from the theory behind the "older" essentialist position. On the general level, it is simply expressing the primacy of the person over society and the primacy of charity over the social virtues. On the particular level, the cases where it might admit a refusal of conformity to the authoritative dictate of a superior can well be reduced to cases already well known in traditional moral theology: epikeia, balance of laws, inconveniences, rights of conscience, and so forth. It is true that the expression given to these cases is new; it is emotive and enthusiastic and thereby tending to more difformity than has been allowed in the older working pattern. But this does not prove the theory is incorrect; it proves only that it is ambiguous in its expression as reduced to a working pattern. It is therefore on the level of that working pattern, in practice, that any incor-rectness should be removed. At least, there is room for real "dialogue" in a theoretical agreement on founda-tions. (2) The spirit of the personalist position, as it is typi-cally expressed at present, does not appear to allow suffi-ciently for the role of social authority within a personal communityi and this defect comes from its idealism. Let us grant thi~ idealism absolutely, but let us remember that we are asking it of men who live in a sin,situation and who carry within themselves profound inclinations contrary to gene.rous and sacrificial self-giving in love. The first evidence of these inclinations is the tendency for groups to isolate within a community and to consider the expressions of love that-correspond to their .own idealism without due consideration of the interests and peculiar form of love of other groups. On the very prin-ciples of total lov~ within the total personal community, .!- ÷ ÷ Security Void VOLUME 27, 1968 793 + ÷ ÷ Kevin O'Shea, .Ss.R. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS granting the intrinsic weakness of man, there must be some human authority to determine the forms of authen-tic love for all when need arises; and this authority must be conceded a per se place in the community. The typ-ical personalist expositions at present stress the idealism of what man is called to do somewhat at the expense of the necessary regime for its human realization, a vital part of which is authority. It is possible to rethink the meaning of authority as an inner demand of the personal community. In this way, the tendency to conceive an opposition between the expressions of a responsible authority and the inherent claims 9f love and conscience will weaken; at least, a better balance between the two will be achieved in practice, and in due time the formnlas and the working patterns will be rightly adjusted. (3) But if sin has abounded, grace has abounded even more. In assessing the present situation, we may reason-ably judge that mankind is on the threshold of a sig-nificant evolution in its living experience o[ community and of the meaning of personal love. We must not poison the wells of this inspiration. We must therefore admit, in theory and in practice, that the older static unchal-lenged working pattern of community must also evolve to be more in accord with the new inspiration. Any at-tempt to pin one's security finally in the unchanged positions of old is doomed to failure. To back down before the challenge of the present in the name of the weakness of human nature, which needs a lower stand-ard, is a practical denial of the triumph of grace. (4) This evolution in the living of community-love must of its nature be slow: "i(ll great matters must come to ripening slowly" (Congar). Those who live through the present transition and cause it must have a peculiar patience: a deep-rooted existential conviction that history is slowly changing through the measured pace of their lifetime. To the extent that their love and self-giving is really great, it will have the patience of the times, seconding and not subverting the dynamism by which God is bringing His gracious design to com-pletion in His own manner. It is perhaps in this fidelity to what is perceived as the bvolving character of provi-dence, that a genuine security can be found. Paradox-ically, it is~ patience that engenders hope, and not the reverse! (5) If social authority can and must be given a place de se in the personal community, it can and must also be found a special place de facto in the currently evolving form of personal community. Our original frailty is showing itself in a new facet: our inability to assure the tranquil passage from the older order to the new, evi-denced in the intransigence of some and the impetuosity of others, and the imprudence of all. There is need of a new awareness of humility if we are to engage correctly this exciting and dangerous transition of history. And there is need for,,social authority to recognize a new responsibility: that of assisting, with its own power of juridic firmness, the pattern of change and of progress from one order to the other. In the exercise of this office, social authority will slowly commend itself more truly to the humility our times must learn. (6) St. Thomas once described .the effects of human law as disciplina et pax. No doubt, he envisaged these mightly mysteries in the static culture of his day; but they remain valid, and needed, in the day of dynamic evolution of human living forms that is ours. Our current emergence to greater times must not be turbulent but tranquil; and the tranquility we need we must learn. We can only learn it if all those who make up the human community at present, "old" as well as "new," play their proper roles together. An "o]-der" point of view is neces-sary today to show the new inspiration, which it accepts at root, the realistic way to find its own survival. A "new" point of view is the soul of the upsurge, and its cry is for a love and a self-gift to all; it is necessary that it learn the peace of the future by establishing its own peace in the present, by accepting "togetherness" with those who do not yet appreciate its value and teaching them by deeds what it has not succeeded in communi-cating to them in words. The most unusual trait of the "new order" of love is that it can be created by real love in ariy conditions; it does not depend on special structures or circumstances but relies on its own dyna-mism. If it is to have more desirable conditi6ns in .the future, it must learn to give its own peace to those of the present. (7) Finally, those involved in this development, which means all of us, should be big enough to overlook mis-takes in detail for the greatness of the cause. We must become conscious of who we are in our times and in history; we must live with a sense of our call to the greatness of love together. In this sense, we must know not a "security void" but a "security fulfillment." + ÷ ÷ Security Void VOLUNE.27, 1968 PAUL MOLINARI, S.]. Renewal of Religious Life according to the Founder's Spirit Paul Molinari, s.J., writes from Borgo Santo Spirito, 5; Rome 00100, Italy. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 796 In presenting these few thoughts, I should like to clarify some theological points which have not, I believe, been sutticiently understood when we speak of a return to the origins of each religious institute. The conciliar decree Perfectae caritatis insists on a life of union with Christ, leading us to consider Him not only as the exemplar of the life of a religious but as the very form of this life.I think that this aspect has not been sufficiently stressed, because the wealth of mean-ing of certain rich but very concise expressions of the decree has not been adequately understood. The decree deliberately avoids detail in order not to bind religious life to concrete forms, identical for all, which would pre-vent it from developing freely in Christ. Rather, it sought above all to emphasize that we must make an ef-fort to conceive and live our religious life as one of donation to Christ, in which we must share His way of livin~g, His spirit. Hence the insistence on a supernatural principle. W~ must always keep in mind that the mis-sion of the Church is a continuation of the mission of Christ and that the mission of Christ is specifically su-pernatural. We must realize, therefore, that in order to participate in the mission of Christ, in order to continue it, we must of necessity adopt His criteria. It is pre-cisely a question of a gift of life--the Word made flesh in or,der to give supernatural life, divine life, to man. Participation in the life of Christ is what gives vitality to the Church. Participation in the redeeming sacrifice is what gives life to man. It is the sacrifice of Christ giving His life for the Church that ought to lead re-ligious to give their life for the Church, that is, for the supernatural good of all of the People of God, for a more abundant communication of divine life to the entire fam-ily of man. I insist on this point precisely because today there is, at times, a tendency to stress almost exclusively the necessity of adapting the exterior apostolate and of bringing it into line with the possibilities offered by modern technological society or to concentrate almost exclusively on the social apostolate of the Church. We must not forget, however, that Christ's apostolate is not only, nor even principally, a social apostolate but a supernatural apostolate: the communication of divine life. This presupposes that we can and often ought to see to the material needs of man and interest ourselves in serious and pressing questions of social justice, but our apostolate does not stop there. We must above all consider the supernatural value of religious life as such, the value of this self-donation which, even though it may remain unperceived, attains something very precious for others on a supernatural level precisely because it is a donation, a sacrifice of self, In this context, I would like to point out that we tend too easily to overestimate the criterion of exterior effi-cacy and of visible success. Is it not true that, when Christ died on the cross, the efficacy of this sacrifice of His entire life could not be seen? It is important to emphasize this at a time when the profound value of self-donation is being called into question precisely be-cause so little is said about the guiding principle of the Lord in His apostolate. Moved by the Spirit, He spent Himself, He delivered Himself on the cross. That is the force of the Spirit. We find ourselves here in the realm of faith. In the light of faith we begin to understand the value of a life hidden in Christ, of a life of im-molation, a life of love, a life which gives up its life for others--and nothing is more beautiful than to lay down our life for others. The ultimate solution to the crisis in contemporary religious life can be found in the realization of religious life as a life of self-donation. Not that religious life should lead merely to the interior life. On the contrary, it will lead us to a great activity; it must express itself exteriorly but in such a way that it is supernatural in character. It is along these lines that we can find a solution to today's problems, particularly those concerning the social apostolate. At this point, I quote those beautiful phrases contained in the decree Per[ectae caritatis: Fired by the love which the Holy Spirit pours out in their hearts, they live their lives ever increasingly for Christ and for his Body which is the Church. Consequently, the more fervent their union with Christ through this giving of themselves, which includes the whole of their lives, the richer the life of ÷ ÷ ÷ Founder"s Spirit VOLUME 27, 1968 797 REVIEW FOR RELIG~OU5 798 the Church becomes and the more fruitful her apostolate (n. 1). The gospel brings out that the characteristic note of Christ's mission was His docility to the Holy Spirit. I think that this is why the decree insists so much~ on the Holy Spirit, His action in the Church and in the soul of founders. If Christ, the head of the Church, began His mission led by the Spirit, the Incarnation itself being the work of the Spirit, the Church, which is the Mysti-cal Body of Christ, likewise ought to be docile to the Spirit. The Church, as such, tries to be so, and she has the permanent assistance of the Holy Spirit, her soul: Christ, having been lifted up from the earth, is drawing all men to himself. Rising from the dead, he sent his life-giving Spirit upon his disciples and through this Spirit has established his body, the Church, as the universal sacrament of salvation. Sitting at the right hand of the Father, he is continually .active in the world, leading men to the Church and through her joining them more closely to himself and making them par-takers of his glorious life by nourishing them with his own body and blood. Therefore, the promised restoration which we are awaiting has already begun in Christ, is carried forward in the mission of the Holy Spirit, and through him continues in the Church (Lumen gentium n. 48). In virtue of the same principle, each member of the Church should likewise follow the motions of the life-giving Spirit. We are touching here on one of the most fundamental principles of the religious life and of the Church. As the conciliar document Perfectae caritatis says, the Holy Spirit has raised up in the Church men and women who founded religious families. These souls were called to a providential mission in the Church and were particularly docile to the action of the Holy Spirit: Indeed from the very beginning of the Church men and women have set about following Christ with greater freedom and imitating him more closely through the practice of the evangelical counsels, each in his own way leading a life dedi-cated to God. Many of them, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, lived as hermits or founded religiou~families, which the Church gladly welcomed and approved by her authority. So it is that in accordance with the Divine Plan a wonderful variety of religious communities has grown up which has made it easier for the Church not only to be e~u!pped for every good work and ready for the work of the mlnxstry--the build-ing up of the Body of Christ--but also to appear adorned with the various gifts of her children like a spouse adorned for her husband and for the manifold Wisdom of God to be revealed through her (Perfectae caritatis, n. I). The Spirit who led Christ is the same Spirit who leads those who are united to Christ and in whom, as with docile instruments, He can more freely carry on the salvific mission of communicating divine life to His Church and to all mankind. With these theological principles in mind, it is easier to understand that while the. cardinal point of renewal is the Gospel and total, unconditional surrender and consecration to the redeem-ing Christ, another is precisely the docility and fidelity of members of a religious institute to the spirit of their founder. Actually, the mission of Christ is not yet completed; it continues in the Church which must remain faithful to His inspiration. This is why charismatic graces, that is divine inspirations given in view of certain apostolic necessities, continue to be given to the Church. These graces are evident in a special way in all those who have truly given their heart to the Lord and who, without setting any conditions or limits, allow themselves to be guided by God, that is to say the saints and those great charismatic leaders, the founders and foundresses of re-ligious families. But while this action of the Holy Spirit is particularly visible in the soul of founders, it does not stop with them. The same Spirit, wishing to continue the mission that He has entrusted to the founders ~for the sake of the Church, acts in the soul of each member of the People of God and calls some of them to follow our Lord and dedicate their lives to the institutes established by these holy men and women. It is as i£ the Holy Spirit sent a ray of light which filled the soul of: the founder. This ray continues on, through the founder, until it reaches the soul of those who are called to a certain religious family. It is a ray of light which has its own particular characteristics and limitations. It is thus that institutes receive a specific mission from the Holy Spirit. For this reason there is a variety of institutes in the Church, which are all necessary. And the Holy Spirit inspires and continues to inspire the members of all religious families but in different ways, according to their specific task in the Church. It is in this sense that St. Paul, while dealing with the Mystical Body, speaks of the di-versity of functions within the Church; and there is no doubt that this variety is very good for the Church. It is extremely important, therefore, that religious know what the authentic spirit of their founder or foundress is and that they share it consciously. This is what the Council intended when it invited religious, especially in view of the renewal of their life, to discover anew the riches of this spirit and to find life-giving in-spiration in it. For that reason, the motu proprio Ec-clesiae sanctae says it is essential for each religious family to study the sources and to go down to the real roots of their institute. It is, therefore, indispensable in 4- VOLUME 27, 1968 ÷ ÷ Paul Molinari~ $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8OO the preparation for special chapters charged with putting into practice the Council's teachings and directives, to engage in serious and searching study concerning the charism of the founder or foundress and to discover new depths concerning the authentic inspiration which gave birth to any given institute. It is obvious that in many cases a good number of studies have already been made on this precise point, and these studies can and ought to be judiciously used. It would be an error, nevertheless, to limit such research to an analysis of these studies, because each generation has its own sensitivity, its own special g~ace for discovering certain accents, and is struck by elements which previous generations prob-ably knew of but did not make use of with the same de-gree of explicit understanding. What happens in biblical exegesis and in the authentic evolution of dogma and theology is likewise true of the progressive understanding of what the Holy Spirit wished to start with founders and continues, through their mediation, throughout the ages in the institutes which He raised up in the Church. Precisely because we are dealing here with an interven-tion of God Himself in the history of the Church and of an initiative that He wishes to prolong and renew, not only today but also in the future, it is imperative that this search for the true spirit of a founder or foundress be done with complete objectivity. In no way is it permis-sible to base such a study on feelings or on interpreta-tions and intuitions which are more or less subjective. Reverence for the work of God in the soul of the founder as well as reverence for the divine vocation by which we were called to become a member of our religious in-stitutes requires that we remain humbly open to God's light. In no way should we try to make the divine grace given to the founder coincide violently or arbitrarily with our limited personal ideas. On the contrary, the action of the Holy Spirit in the soul of the founder ought to be our point of reference ]n examining our own way of thinking and acting. Much is being said today about the discernment of spirits. But this is exactly what the Church has been concerned with in regard to founders. We have the as-surance that they were acting under a charismatic im-pulse. We, in turn, participate in this same impulse to the degree that we are faithful to the grace which called us to our religious family, and that we let it de-velop and grow in us. It must be noted in this context that while the Church invites us to recognize loyally the spirit of our origins, she does not at all exclude the possibility that this spirit may find different expressions throughout the .ages. There is a tendency, at times, to identify the spirit of the founders with their works. But the spirit gave life to a work; it determined its beginning. It can happen that, as time passes, a work, begun with an intention largely determined by the needs and circumstances of the age and place in which the founder lived, has changed. In present day conditions, it may no longer b~ possible to continue these same works or, due to exterior circum-stances, to carry them on in the same way as when they were begun. Fidelity to the letter can thus become in-fidelity to the spirit of the founder. In other words, it is not sufficient simply to make an historical catalog of our works. We must try to see them, spiritually and integ-rally,~ from the inside, in order to seize the inspiration which animated the founder when he acted. It is only if we succeed in grasping this profound inspiration that we shall find, at the same time, that true fidelity to the founder which the Church is asking usa to preserve in deciding what adaptations are to be made. If the spirit of the founder is a living reality to us, we shall likewise be able to formulate it adequately in modern language, fully in accord with the contemporary situation. To be truly faithful, we must go to the very heart of the mat-ter, that is, go to the very root of the reasons why the founder acted and discover the ultimate criteria of the choices he made. We must not be content with discover-ing what the founder did; we have to discover why, whether we have grasped the inner inspiration. While reflecting so openly and clearly on this essen-tial principle, I want to make a brief point dictated by charity, justice, wisdom. It is well known that on the occasion of special chapters in all religious institutes, there is an atmosphere of unrest among truly generous religious who are loyal both to the Church and to their institute. This uneasiness is ultimately caused by an in-adequate understanding of the principles which have just been stated. On the one hand, there are religious who do not understand clearly enough that the concrete expression of the identical spirit of the founder c/m, and even ought to change according to the circumstances and mentality of succeeding generations. Every innovation, consequently, seems' to them to be a departure from the authentic spirit of the founder and, as such;' inadmissi-ble. On the other hand, there are also religious who, with a certain naivet~ which is no less serious, proclaim loudly that only the present generation has discovered the true spirit of the founder and that former genera-tions did not understand it at all. The mutual error of these two tendencies is simply that they both think that one, and only one, generation can discover once and for all what the authentic spirit of the founder is, exhaust the wealth of its possibilities, and determine defi'nitively 4, 4, Fou~w~$ ,Sp~r~g " VOLUME 27, 1968 4" 4" 4" Paul Molinari, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8O2 all possible authentic expressions of this spirit. But, as we have already said, such a conception errs by not taking into account human limitations and historical sense. Each generation of religious has its own strong points and its own deficiencies, it own profound intui-tions as well as its own task. It is precisely along these lines, with the greatest reverence and objectivity, that each generation of rel.igious should look towards the authentic origins of their institute and delve into the heritage of its founder's authentic inspiration. In this process of humble and reverent seeking, which is at the same time both painful and liberating, each generation should make the charism of the founder and the in-stitute their own. Each generation, through prayer, med-itation, and study, should seek to find out, according to the spirit of the founder, what ought to be kept or abandoned in the present day. As can be seen, this work is both very necessary and very delicate, requiring hum-ble and utter abnegation. But if we understand that the true patrimony of the Church and the task of renewal are at stake, we shall not be afraid to renounce personal points of view or preferences in order to go wherever the Holy Spirit may lead us. Experience teaches us, moreover, that such a return to the authentic origins of an institute is not only possible but also extraordinarily fruitful. There is immediately a very keen and positive reaction when anyone speaks with competence to religious men and women about the documents left by their founder or about his life. I am sure that we have all already experienced this. Can it be explained in any other way except by the fact that men-tion was made of something that the Holy Spirit had already put in the heart of these religious? If they are put into direct contact with the sources of their institute, they explicitly find in them what they were formerly more or less conscious of and which had led them to one particular religious family and not another. The Spirit of God gives a certain sort of interior spiritual sensitivity and a spontaneous inclination towards the spirit of the founder and its authentic manifestations. If religious are brought into direct contact with the spirit of the founder, they are moved to ever greater generosity and immediately pass to a higher plane. Many people can thus be helped to overcome their difficulties, precisely because the very root of their life has been touched. It goes without saying, moreover, that this life-giving con-tact with the authentic inspiration of the founder greatly facilitates responsible adaptation to conditions and cir-cumstances of time and place. This is obviously the reason why the conciliar decree Per[ectae caritatis de- clares that any adaptation ought to come forth as a pre-cious fruit of interior renewal, that is of a return to the gospel and to the authentic spirit Of. the founder. Let us now say a word about the concrete manner of proceeding in this extremely delicate and important matter. Experience seems to bear out the following: Af-ter the religious have been informed of work done on the sources and after they have been invited to meditate on the different aspects of renewal and even to give their opinions in writing, it is a good practice to gather to-gether those who have showed special interest in the subject, especially those who likewise have a good scien-tific preparation. Ask them to study the documents and everything that has been done previously in the way of research and analysis in order to bring to light the outstanding elements, that is, those which recur con-stantly in the thought of the founder. The outcome will not all be the same because each one has his own per-sonality and way of looking at things; but by comparing the results, a sufficiently objective view will be obtained which will permit the characteristic elements of the life and thought of the founder to be isolated. These in turn will help orient the work of renewal. When it is time to rewrite the constitutions, they can be based on the discoveries made, without fear of changing or modi-fying illegitimately the thought of the founder which these objective studies will have brought out more clearly. The next step is to compare these results with the life, constitutions, and works of today. This will be rela-tively easy if the fundamental points have already been clarified. The various editions of the constitutions, pro-mulgated at different stages in the history of the in-stitute, should be examined to see what elements have been forgotten or not sufficiently emphasized. This type of research can contribute notably to a greater direct knowledge of the sources and will bring to light again the true thought of the founder. If this research is car-ried on according to these objective criteria and is al-ways inspired by theologically and spiritually sound principles, a naive desire of change for the sake of change will be avoided. On the contrary, if changes are necessary or opportune, they will be made without great interior difficulty because all will see more clearly what Gods wants of us and how. He is asking us to mani-fest our fidelity to the authentic spirit of the founder. It is equally obvious that, in the same way, we can more easily avoid those distressing internal divisions among members of the same institute since all will have the conviction that the changes proposed are based on a ÷ ÷ ÷ Founder's Spirit VOLUME 27 19e,8 80,~ , 4. .4. Paul Molinari~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8O4 common desire to correspond fully to what is under-stood to be the true spirit which gave rise to the in-stitute and its authentic charism. In the same way,-it will likewise be easier to decide What changes must be made in the exterior life and even in the works of the institute. We say that it will be easier, because when it comes to works, there are naturally other problems which are generally very seri-ous and which cannot be naively ignored. But I am con-vinced that if, first of all, everyone is in agreement on the essential lines of renewal according to the spirit of the founder, courage will more easily be found when all are working together in the solidarity of a chapter. If, for example, the members of a chapter 'clearly see that today certain works no longer correspond to what the founder wanted in his day, it should be easier /or the chapter to take clear and decided decisions, without causing profound dissensions, without sidestepping the solution and without leaving all the most serious deci-sions to the sole authority of the superior general and. his council. Would it not be better for the chapter, which truly represents the institute, to take essential decisions, basing them on a greater knowledge of the spirit and charism of the founder and his work, and thus tracing the way for times to come? In answer to Christ's call, religious left all things to ,follow Him, that is, to go with Christ wherever He wishes to go. It seems evident that Christ wishes to go where the needs are the most urgent. One of the things that we would do well to consider when we speak of union with Christ in the religious life is that it is not simply a question of going out to the poor but of leaving all things, and following Christ in a spirit of donation and complete availability. This can sometimes mean leaving well established works that are running well but which, having reached the point where they do run well, no longer need us. In such cases, led by the spirit of the founder, we should go where social condi-tions are more or less similar to those that prompted the founder to act in his day. It is then that we have truly vital contact with the authentic spirit of the founder. In a certain sense, it can be said that where this spirit adaptatioh is' found, religious live in closer union with the spirit of the founder. Indeed, when, as it were, the very soul of the founder has been refound, there is no crisis in religious life and vocations are not lacking. It is clear that those souls who have followed their founder .most closely have found, under the motion of the Holy Spirit, what they were seeking. Naturally, it would be absurd to maintain that all present-day works of religious should be abandoned or that all need to be adapted or again that all changes should be made instantly. We must, however, have the courage to face these questions honestly and to solve them with the same courage that characterized the action of founders, the courage of the saints. It is worthwhile meditating, in this light, on the fol-lowing words of His Eminence, Cardinal Agagianian, Prefect of the Sacred Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith: Evolution has considerably modified the physiognomy of Christianity and the sign value of this type of Institution. Where formerly there were charitable works to answer press-ing social needs there is now state socialization or the national-ization of an entire sector. If this has not been done yet, it is at least the intention of young governments and is being planned by large official international organizations. Are not our institutions, which were begun with such generosity and which answered such authentic social needs, now anachronistic, technically .surpassed, not viable financially, lacking true Christian witness value since other official organisms which are better equipped have taken charge of this sector? We must therefore avoid duplication, useless waste, unequal competi-tion, and rethink our activity, which must be missionary to the greatest possibl~, degree and carried on in the light of an apostolic vision which is more freshly evangelical. It is a ques-tion of discovering the true exigencies of the hour, of estab-lishing priorities, and of effectuating our own "reconversion" by turning to work which is doubtlessly socially less spectacula~ but which is more specifically a work of the Church, a work which is directly missionary in scope and character. At the present time, religious must be very open to the grace of the Spirit in order to follow Christ effectively and continue His mission. We should all clearly un-derstand that the charismatic grace given to the founder and his institute is a call from God, a talent which has been confided to us. God asks that the talents He gives be well used. We must not be afraid to make them fructify. Such a fear should never paralyze our generosity and our donation to Christ. It is therefore not enough, necessarily, to keep works just as they are. They must be made to bear the greatest amount of fruit possible. How can this be done? That is where the difficulty lies. It is certainly not permissible simply to keep the capital. If the apostolic return amounts only to 2% or 3%, we must ask ourselves if this capital could not be used in a better way. If we consider the exigencies of the Lord, we can more calmly envisage the fact that the decisions to be taken will sometimes lead to very serious changes, but we must accept them in a spirit of love and fidelity to the true charism of the founder and his work. But we must consider more specifically and more ex-plicitly the ecclesial dimension of our personal vocation as well as the vocation of our institute. The institute is part of the Church and it has a specific function within ÷ ÷ ÷ the Church. It is a living part of the Church and it will have life insofar as it accepts its function for the sake of the Church. This will help us to penetrate more and more into our vocation of being available for the service of Christ and His Church. We will experience the joy of giving life, the consciousness of being the grain of wheat which falls to the ground and dies, and to bear fruit a hundredfold. Problems will find their solution in this deeper vision of religious life as a life of union with Christ in order to continue, in Him and with Him, His mission of communicating divine life to man. 4, ÷ Paul Molinad~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 80fi SISTER M. DENIS, S.O.S New Trends in Community Living Something which has existed since the beginning, that we have heard, and we have seen with our own eyes; that we have watched and touched with our hands: the Word who is life-- this is our subject. That life was made visible; we saw it and we are giving our testimony, telling you of the eternal life which was with the Father and has been made visible to us; we are telling you so that you too may be in union with us, as we are in union with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ. --1 John 1: I-3 In* these opening lines of John's First Epistle, he is trying to translate into a multiplicity of feeble human concepts and words, Life itself which is not many but one, not a thing but a person--the triune Person of the Godhead. When discussing the "new trends in commu-nity living" with you, I shall attempt to follow the exam-ple of John. Words are a very necessary component of human communication, but nevertheless annoying. As soon as we describe a reality we break it into parts and tend to give the impression that if every part described is present, we have the reality itself. Rather, the reality of community that I hope to translate into practical and concrete terms, is not composite but one--permeated with the dynamism of that divine incarnated union John spoke of. Unfortunately, that dynamism cannot be put into Words; it must be lived and experienced. Therefore, the approach in this paper will be experi- * This is the text of an address given in May, 1968, to a meeting of Canadian major superiors. ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Denis, S.O.S., writes from 62 Hargrave St.; Winnipeg 1, Mani-toba; Canada. VOLUME 27, 1968 80~ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Denis~ $.0.5. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 808 ential and practical and not a rephrasing of the excellent literature on community with which you are familiar. First, we shall examine the bases or principles upon which community is created, investigate the trends evi-dent in community living today, attempt to describe the type of community life that is unfolding from these trends, and propose some practical ways of effecting the transition from the present structures of community life to that form toward which we are evolving. Rather than burden you with another definition of community, I would prefer a descriptive approach. We are well aware of the different kinds of communities that exist among men. There is the natural community of the family and the artificial or contrived community of the organization, society, or state. All too often, we have described the religious com-munity solely in terms of one ot~ these two societies: our terminology of mother, father, brother, sister, reflects the familial concept; and our highly structured religious corporations betray the organizational concept. Al-though religious community can benefit from aspects of these two basic human groupings, we must with deep faith live the essence of religious community as an en- Spirited or Spirit-filled community: "Father, may they be one in us, as you are in me and I am in you, so that the world may believe it was you who sent me" (Jn 17:21). To the individual person who has embraced the re-ligious life, what then is community? I enter community so that I may begin to gift myself to others, to give the life I have to another, and to re-ceive from them in the same way; and this transmitting, this sharing of life, of wholeness is carried over into my apostolate. This life is given and received in faith be-cause the life or dynamism of community that permeates it is not my own--it is the life of the Spirit, the Spirit of Christ who shows us the Father; my gift to God-~a gift which has come from Him in the first pIace--is to give life to others by the life that is in me. True community, therefore, is created, not structured or legislated. PRINCIPLES The principles or bases upon which an en-Spirited community is created must be grasped, not only intel-lectually, but also experientially by every member in the community, although not necessarily to the same extent or depth. None of these principles stand alone; rather they are interdependent and interrelated. Trinitarian The ultimate model of en-Spirited community is the trinitarian life as it is lived by Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. We have heard this so often that we tend to dis-miss it as another cliche. What does it mean in actual practice? It means that each person in community must be and do what God Himself through Christ and in the Spirit is and does: namely, He gathers, unites, establishes communion. How? By communication. Supportive words, other means of communicating love give life to another, as the Father begets His Son, the Word. This gift to one another and the response from one another engenders love--the Spirit. It is at this point where Trinity and en-Spirited community merge. ~lgape. If this trinitarian love-life is incarnated and experi-enced, the cohesive bond in community is the living agape of Christ, not the force of rule or custom. We must have the courage to examine and question the place of rule in religious life. In actual fact, which has frequently taken precedence---our holy rule or the gospel? The experience of agape is an entirely new human ex-perience. It is this gift of God--the Spirit. Pagans could only look at the early Christian community and exclaim: "See how these Christians love one another." But the words "love" or "charity" are, at best, a weak transla-tion. Agape is the knowledge and love of God--that very dynamism of the Trinity itself--which, through a free gift of God, has been incarnated, embodied in human community--a Spirit-filled community. Peace and joy, in which are contained all the other fruits of the Spirit, characterize such a religious community. The ultimate expression of agape is the love feast itself--the Eucharist. The en-Spirited or agape community is effected by the liturgy--when members are conscious of communicating or uniting themselves together in Christ. In turn, their liturgical expression is intensified by their community life. Incarnational Spirituality In order that community reflect trinitarian life or agape--which are different expressions of the same real-ity- the spirituality upon which it is based must be truly incarnational. Again we are back to the importance of faith. If the Son of God, the Word, became flesh, be-came incarnate, then the world, the whole world is "shot through with the grandeur of God," as Hopkins wrote. We cannot arbitrarily determine which particular ma-terial signs signify the presence of Christ; this is an in-sidious form of idolatry. Worse still, we cannot attempt first to establish a relationship with the transcendent God and then go out to other people. Because of the Incarnation, the transcendent God has been revealed to + ÷ Community Living VOLUME 27, 1968 809, ÷ ÷ Sisger M. Denis, $.0.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 810 us precisely as immanent. This immanence is continued in the world through the gift of the Spirit. The experi-ence of agape, the witness of a Spirit-filled community, is the experiential embodiment of this transcendence. In community agape we realize the fullness of the In-carnation. Respect for the Integrity of the Individual Person Community is not achieved through uniformity; but in practice our preoccupation with uniformity often militates against that respect for tl~e integrity of the individual person so necessary for the developme.nt of an en-Spirited community. This respect involves accept-ance first of ourselves as we are--not as we would like to be. We must risk taking off our masks, not only to others, but also to ourselves, and be truly authentic. I never realized what a mask the traditional habit could be until a few summers ago at the Superior's Conference in Portland, Oregon. During the day we walked around very conscious of religious decorum and dignity. When the magic hour of 2:00 p.m. struck, we converged on the swimming pool. As each layer of clothing came off, the person emerged. This respect [or the integrity of the person involves acceptance ot another in the same way---as they are and not as we would like them to be. If we love only those who share our ideas, our thoughts and aspirations, then we are merely loving an extension of ourselves. We must love what is truly the other--in which there is nothing of oneself. This acceptance is a respect based not on toleration or on charity or even because we see Christ in another; rather this respect is based on the unique dignity created in that person by God Him-self. Often we bypass this unique dignity for "good and noble reasons." Our acceptance and love should always be based on the person, not dependent on their actions. This is a great danger in community life, where we do 'not have the natural ties of blood as in the family and where much stress is placed on uniformity. Community, as we have been describing it, is not necessarily the common life. This communal acceptance involves a sharing, an openness with one another dictated not on my terms but by the other person's real needs for growth. In listening to the conversation of some religious I get the impression that self-fulfillment is selfishness, not selflessness. We only"receive when we give. And very often giving hurts. Serf-fulfillment is the very mystery of the death-resurrection of Christ incarnated and re-peated in the lives of men and women. Originality, Creativity The external structures of the en-Spirited community --structures which may take many and varied forms according to times and places--should always leave room for the development of originality and creativity among its members. I am merely stating in concrete terms the theological problem of institution versus charism. Spontaneous .4 ction Closely related to the need for originality and crea-tivity is the need for spontaneous action in community. A few years ago I read an examination of conscience in which was the question: "Have I organized myself so intensely that I have no time for spontaneous generos-ity?" We might well ask the question on the com-munal level. Is our day so laid out, charges so spelled out, that members function as automatons--cheerfully perhaps, but not spontaneously? Responsibility Finally, true community fosters responsibility, the ability to respond. Men and women can come to good-ness only through a knowing and free choice. The other side of the coin is a sharing in the authority on which responsibility depends; and this authority, in turn, is derived, from the community. Members are responsible to one another personally and to the group collectively. The religious or Spirit-filled community, therefore, is based on the agape-life of the Trinity as incarnated among men. Its growth and development depends upon the respect for the integrity of the individual person with the necessary correlatives of personal authenticity and acceptance. Desirable structures permit and foster originality, creativity, responsibility, and spontaneous action both individually and collectively. CURRENT TRENDS With these principles in mind we shall now attempt to describe the current trends among religious in Can-ada, trends which will affect community living. These trends were gleaned from the recent reports of the eight round-table discussion teams which were organized across Canada by the Canadian Religious Congress to contribute to a survey of religious life. In this era of post-Vatican II, we are coutinually reminded to be alert to the signs of the times, to significant indications or movements in a parti.cular direction. Whether the trend be evaluated as good or bad, as desirable or un-desirable, it remains, nevertheless, the voice of the Spirit speaking to us. Discernment of the message is not as easy as discernment of the trend. 4. ÷ Community Living VOLUME 27, 1968 811 Sister M. Den~s, $.0~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ,4 ttitudes Very evident is the evolution of new and more posi-tive attitudes among religious. In relation to the in-stitution, there is a greater respect for the person and the charisms of the individual. Religious place a priority of being over seeming, of the person over the actions. The false dichotomy between body and soul is diminished. A new appreciation for the "world" which has lost many of its former negative connotations is evidenced in an understanding of eschatology as be-ginning here below in the form of earthly happiness. Therefore, there is less stress on the'negative aspect of sacrifice and a grea~er emphasis on a joyful, more positive asceticism. Resurrection, not death is predomi-nant. There is a tendency to diminish the artificial distinction between the natural and the supernatural. Thus, the religious sees his or her dedication to Christ and to mankind as one. This unifying trend involves a rejection of the logical distinction between the transcend.- ent God and the immanent God, where the existential is concerned. Spirituality The incarnational spirituality that has evolved from these attitudes integrates human values and identifies "human experience" and the "experience of God." God is encountered .at work in the world present in and through human realities. Throughout the entire study there was evidence of a strong trend toward assuming a more personal responsi-bility for one's life of faith involving a renewed self-commitment. Thins desire for personal responsibility and the previously mentioned attitudes have strongly in-fluenced the trends in the prayer life of Canadian re, ligious today. In the search for new and authentic forms of prayer, none of the traditional forms have escaped honest scrutiny. Although religious believe in the necessity of prayer, the form or expression of this prayer is radically changing, primarily due to a new understanding of prayer in which there is no separation between prayer and action. Looking upon everything as prayer, especially encounter with others, was a very pronounced trend. Therefore, religious desire more freedom in their prayer life--with a structural minimum that gives more consideration to personal needs, that encourages authenticity, and that is adapted to the rhythm suited to the life each one is leading. The daily obligation for Mass is. questioned because of the need for' respecting the personal spiritual rhythm of the religious. In the celebration of the Eucharist, the re- ligious insist less on the idea of sacrifice and more on the notions of communion and gathering. There is an increased trend toward community encounter in the Eucharist within the parish community. Because of their strong faith in the value of interpersonal relationships and group accomplishment, the trends indicate the de-sire of religious for group reflection in prayer. Prayer is no longer a private matter but is becoming a means fulfilling the need for an expression of friendship and human support. The place of God in prayer is not thereby lessened, because of the identity of "human experience" and "the experience of God." The starting point of prayer--personal or communal --is likewise incarnational--an event, something con-nected with themselves, the needs of the world as re-vealed in continuing salvation history--more than the speculative knowledge of a transcendent God. Institution Religious from coast to coast are questioning--not theoretically but existentially--the meaning and purpose of religious life itself. The reports indicate, however, that this scrutiny is not negative, but positive--in spite of the front page articles in the NCR. Structures are not disregarded but desired if they help real personal commitment. Community of life, however, takes prece-dence over institution which is understood as something to help community of life, to make and keep its mem-bers more fully human persons. The institution is re-jected under certain aspects because of unfortunate ex-periences resulting from harshness, impersonalism, legal-ism, and paternalism. Rule Regarding the rule, the trend is toward getting away from the traditional rule because it no longer measures up to the needs of the time. Also evident is a lack of regard for unnecessary canonical legislation. Religious women, in particular, are resentful of the paternalism manifested toward them by the Sacred Congregation of Religious and in canon law. External Signs Also strong is the trend to reject archaic signs of identification as religious. These externals, such as the habit, the canonical cloister, the rule, community con-trols, are seen as objectionable to the extent that they separate the religious from the secular world. These religious wish to remove the barriers imposed by monastic influences of another age. ÷ ÷ ÷ Community Living VOLUME 27, 1968 813 Silence Closely connected to their notions on spirituality, prayer, and religious structures are the views of religious on silence. They admit the value of silence but not according to traditional concepts. Personal silence is valuable as a means to encountering the other; it is closely related to charity. Rather than an absence of words, silence is an inner attitude. Thus, they refuse to keep a conformist silence or silence of rule considered for its own sake. Size oI Community Especially strong are the desire and the realization of riving in small homogeneous groups because of the need for human interpersonal relationships, for authenticity, for the development of the person. In this way, religious desire to bear effective witness both to poverty and to service. Thus there is a trend toward experimen-tation in this more fraternal way of life: some are living in smaller groups; others are living in apartments. Secular World Today's religious desire to socialize more naturally wid~ other people. In fact, there is evidence of a trend toward seeking fraternity outside the usual religious community group. On the one hand, some see this trend as a reaction against an incorrectly understood type of ¯ community life; on the other hand, some see this as an overflow of the love that is established in true com-munity. Whatever be the case, we must attempt to read the signs of the times; if a person does not find accept-ance and human fellowship within the community, he will seek it elsewhere. Increased activity in the secular world is practically a fait accompli for most religious who are now reading contemporary books, going to movies, taking part in politics, and maintaining contact with the world of art and artists. 4- 4- 4- Sister M. Denis~ S.0.5. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS .4 uthority Religious admit that they will readily sh~re personal experiences with their fellow religious but less willingly with one who is in authority--a spiritual director or a superior. The authority figure in practice is not yet seen as a friend. Strongly rejecting paternalism, religious do not wish to be dependent upon a superior. Authority itself is not rejected; religious still see the necessity of someone in charge of the group. But this person--the superior--should be an available and approachable moderator--one among brothers. Authority is seen as service and coresponsibility. There is a trend, but not yet clearly defined, toward a concept of shared authority with joint responsibility in view of the good of the group. Because of the dignit

Issue 25.3 of the Review for Religious, 1966. ; Constitutions of Lay Congregations by Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. 361 Attitudes towards Religious Garb by Sister M. Clauddle Miller, S.U.L. 438 Charity: A Doctrinal Synthesis by Guy de Broglie, S.J. 447 One Art of the Confessor by Andrew Weigert 484 Spiritual Preparation of a Chapter by Sister M. Guthbert Hdlwig, S.G.M.M. 489 The Particular Friendship by Joseph B. Simons, G.S.G. 496 Charity and/or Human Love by Brother Joachim Frederick, F.S.G. 501 o The Religious Habit by Sister Mary Bonaventure, O.S.F. 505 Searching for Good Managers by Richard M. McKeon, S.J. 511 Gnosis by Donald A. Spoto, F.S.C.H. 515 Survey of Roman Documents 516 Views, News, Previews 524 Questions and Answers 530 Book Reviews 534 JOSEPH F. GALLEN, S.J. .,Typical Constitutions of Lay Religious Congregations INTRODUCTION The purpose of the present work is to give the canoni-cal or legal articles found in the constitutions of pontifical and diocesan congregations of sisters and brothers, both with and without provinces, but not those of the con-stitutions of orders of nuns nor of a lay order of men. The collection has been compiled from approved constitutions and is intended primarily as an aid to the understanding of the law that governs all such institutes. It will be of service in any revision of the constitutions of lay con-gregations, even after the revision of the Code of Canon Law. The collection will likewise help any study not only of the excessive but also of the proper and necessary place of law in the religious state. It should be useful also for any theoretical 'or practical effort for the more perfect union and harmony of the juridical with the scriptural, theological, ascetical, and liturgical elements of the re-ligious life. The usual terms have been retained because they are in actual use in constitutions. There is a discernible de-sire or tendency at present to replace some of these ,terms with more familiar words, for example, dining room for refecto}y, room or bedroom for cell, directress for mistress, and so forth. The pertinent canons are cited under the individual articles for ready reference. They should not be so expressed in general revisions of con-stitutions proposed to the Holy See and, if included in the printed edition of the constitutions, canons are more appropriately placed in a table at the back of the book. The canons given in the table or index of sources at the back of this article are those that appertain to the con- 4. 4. 4. Joseph F. Gallen, $.J., is professor of canon law at Wood-stock College; Woodstock, Mary-land 21163. VOLUME 25, 1966 stitutions of a pontifical congregation of women. A trans-lation of the canons that concern lay religious can be found in Canonical Legislation concerning Religious, Rome: Vatican Press, 1918. The second column in the index of sources contains the citations of a ~,ery fundamental document on which the constitutions of most lay congregations are at least ultimately based, that is, Normae secundum quas Sacra Congregatio Episcoporum et Regulariura procedere solet in approbandis novis institutis votorum simplicium, Rome: Vatican Press, 1901 (referred to as the Normae of 1901). The third column is the Normae pro constitutioni-bus congregationum iuris diocesani a Sacra Congrega-tione de Propaganda Fide dependentium, Rome: Vatican Press, 1940 (referred to as Propagation of the Faith Con-stitution Outlines of 1940). This document is expressly for diocesan missionary congregations but it is a good guide to the more general practice of the Holy See. A like extension is true of the document of the fourth and last column of the index of sources, which is Statuta a sorori-bus externis monasteriorum monialium cuiusque ordinis servonda, Rome: Vatican Press, 1931 (referred to as Statutes for Extern Sistersof 1931). These Statutes can be found in Latin in Coronata, Institutiones iuris canonici, V, ed. 2, Turin: Marietti, 1947, 244-57, The Normae of 1901 and the Propagation of the Faith Con-stitution Outlines of 1940 are contained in Latin in Schaefer, De religiosis, ed. 4, Rome: Apostolato Cattolico, 1947, 1079-1135, and also in Ravasi, De regulis et consti-tutionibus religiosorum, Rome: Descl~e, 195.8, 195-226, 234-57. ÷ ÷ ÷ ]. F. Gallen, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 362 CONTENTS " PART I PURPOSE OF THE CONGREGATION ADMISSION OF MEMBERS MANNER OF LIFE CHAPTER PAGE I Title, Purpose, and Spirit of the Congregation (I-4) 365 II Members, Precedence, and Titles (5-9) 365 III Religious Habit (10-17) 368 IV Dowry and Material Entrance Requirements (18- 28) 369 § 1 Dowry (18-25) 369 § 2 Material Entrance Requirements (26-28) 370 V Admission of Candidates (29-37) 371 VI Postulancy (38-45) 373 VII Noviceship (46-71) 374 § 1 Place of the Noviceship (46-49) 374 § 2 Requirements for the Noviceship (50-57) 374 § 3 Formation of the Novices (58-64) 375 § 4 End of the N0viceship (65-69) 376 § 5 Profession of a Novice in Danger of Death (70--71) : 377 VIII Religious Profession (72-81) 377 IX Vow and Virtue of Poverty (82-93) 380 X Vow and Virtue of Chastity (94) 381 XI Vow and Virtue of Obedience (95-100) 381 XII Penance and Holy Eucharist (101-117) 382 § 1 Penance (101-112) 382 § 2 Manifestation of Conscience (113) 384 § 3 Holy Eucharist (114-117) 385 XIII. Religious Exercises (118-124) 385 XIV Mortification and Penance (125-126) 386 XV Enclosure, Correspondence, Silence (127-138) 387 § 1 Enclosure (127-133) 387 § 2 Correspondence (134-136) 388 § 3 Silence (137-138) 388 XVI Apostolate (139-141) 389 XVII Care of the Sick (142-146) 389 XVIII Suffrages for the Dead (147) 390 XIX Departure and Dismissal (148-.164) 390 § 1 Unlawful Departure (148-151) 390 § 2 Departure at the Expiration of Temporary Profession (152) 391 § 3 Exclaustration and Secularization (153-154) 391 § 4 Dismissal by Decree of a Professed of Tem-porary Vows (155-156) 392 § 5 Dismissal by Decree of a Professed of Per-petual Vows (157-160) 393 § 6 Automatic Dismissal of a Professed of Per-petual or Temporary Vows (161) 395 § 7 Provisional Return of a Professed of Per-petual or Temporary Vows to Secular Life (162) 395 + ÷ + Constitutions VOLUME 25, 1966 363 § 8 Effects of Dismissal (163) 396 § 9 Charitable Subsidy (164) 396 ÷ 4. ÷ PART II GOVERNMENT -o XX Supreme Authority (165-167) 396 XXI General Chapter (168-232) 397 § 1 Convocation and Members (168-176) 397 § 2 General Norms to be Observed in Elections (177-194) 398 § 3 Election of Delegates (195-205) 400 § 4 Provincial Chapter (206-213) 403 1. Convocation and Members (206-207) 403 2. Sessions (208-213) 403 § 5 Preliminary Sessions (214-216) 404 § 6 Election of the Mother General (217-222) 404 § 7 Election of the General Officials (223-224) 405 § 8 Chapter of Affairs (225-232) 406 XXII Mother General (2~3"241) 408 'XXIII Canonical Visitation (242-249) 409 XXIV General Council (250-271) 411 § 1 Councilors and Their Duties (250-265) 411 § 2 First Councilor (266-271) , 415 XXV Secretary General (272-276) 416 XXVI Procurator General (277-280) 416 XXVII Treasurers and the Administration of Temporal Goods (281-306) 417 § 1 Treasurers (281-282) 417 § 2 Treasurer General (283-284) 417 § 3 Provincial (and Regional) Treasurers (285) 418 § 4 Local Treasurers (286-287) 418 § 5 Administration of Temporal Goods (288- 303) 418 § 6 Prohibited Acts (304-306) 421 XXVIII Provinces (307-320) 421 § I Mother Provincial (309-314) 421 § 2 Provincial Councilors, Secretary, and Treas-urer (31 5-320) 423 XXIX Regions (321-324) 425 XXX Houses (325-339) 426 § 1 Houses (325-327) 426 § 2 Local Superiors (328-334) 427 § 3 Local Officials (335-339) 427 XXXI Mistress of Novices (340-346) 428 XXXII Constitutions (347-356) 429 § i Ol~ligation, Change, Interpretation (347- 353) 429 § 2 Dispensation (354-356) 430 Index of Sources 431 ~. F. Gallen, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 364 PART I PURPOSE OF THE CONGREGATION ADMISSION OF MEMBERS MANNER OF LIFE CHAPTER TITLE, PURPOSE, AND SPIRIT OF THE CONGREGATION 1. The Sisters of . are a pontifical (diocesan) con= gregation1 whos~ general purpose'i~ the glory of God and the sanctification of its members by the observance of the three simple vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, (of.the Rule of),2 and,of theseconstitutions. 487-8, 1--4°; 593;. 492, § 38 2. The special purpose (for example) is the imparting of a Christian education and the care of the sick in hos-pitals. 3. (Pontifical,and diocesan erected from July 16, 1906)4 Without the permission of the Holy See the special pur-pose may not be changed, nor m~y works that are not included in it be added in a general and permanent man-ner.' 618, § 2, 1° , ~ 4. (Diocesan erected before July 16, 1906) Without the consent of all the ordinaries ih whose dioceses the congre-gation has houses, the special purpose, etc., as in the pre-ceding.~ 492, § 2; 495, § 2 CHAPTER II MEMBERS, PRECEDENCE, AND TITLES 5. The members form one class of sisters subject to the one mother general and living under'the same com-mon discipline. Those who have made profession of ¯ Aggregation to a first order, if it exists, should be expressed here, e.g., "affiliated to the Order of Friars Minor." Canon 492, § 1 should also be then added to the canons cited~ ~ "Of the Rule of" is included only if the congregation has a Rule, for example, of St. Augustine, Benedict, Francis. s When the number of.a canon is printed in roman type, the rela-tive article "of the constitutions is wholly or partly the canon. When the number of a canon is in italics, the relative article has reference to the canon. The canons are cited here under the individual articles for facility of reference. They should not be included in the text pro-posed to th~ Holy'See, find in the' printed text, if included, they are much more suitably placed in a table immediately before the alpha-betical index. ' By the motu proprio Dei providentis of Pius X, July 16, 1906, the local ordinaries were not permitted thereafter to erect diocesan congregations without first consulting the Holy See on th~ name, habit, purpose~ and other matters, none of which could then be changed, without the consent of the Holy See. 5 One.or more articles on either or both the spirit and the patrons of the congregation arevery frequently added to this chapter. + Constitutions VOLUME 25, 1966 365 ÷ ÷ ÷ I. F. Gallen, S.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 366 temporary vows enjoy the s'ame indulgences, privileges, and spiritual favors as the professed of perpetual vows, and in case of death have the right to the same suffrages. They are equally obliged to the observance of the con-stitutions. The novices also enjoy all the privileges and spiritual favors granted to the congregation; if they die they have a right to the same suffrages as are prescribed for the professed sisters. The novice is subject to the mistress of novices and the superiors and is obliged to obey them. 578, 1-2°; 567, § l; 561, § 2; 488, 7° 6. The sisters' are granted active and passive voice by perpetual profession.6 578, 3° 7. The following is the order of precedence.7 a) The mother ge'neral precedes all superiors and sisters in the whole congregation. b) The mother assistant has the same precedence after the mother general. , N.B. In some constitutions the mother assistant is given only, ~he precedence accorded to the gen-eral councilors. c) The general councilors, in the order of their elec-tion, in the motherhouse. In other houses they follow the mother provincial and the local superior. N.B. In some congregations the general councilors have this precedence also in the other houses; in some the local superior precedes the general coun-cilors also in the motherhouse. d) The secretary general, in the motherhouse. e) The treasurer general, in the motherhouse. In other houses the secretary and treasurer general follow the local superior. N.B. In a few congregations the treasurer gen-eral precedes the secretary general. In pontifical congregations of brothers, the procurator gen-eral precedes or follows the secretary and treasurer general or precedes the latter. f) Former mothers general, in the motherhouse. In other houses they follow the local superior. N.B. The varying practice on former mothers general in some constitutions is as follows: they immediately follow the general councilors; they are always preceded by the mothers provincial or the local superiors; or they are given no special precedence. g) The mothers provincial. N.B. In her own province, the mother provincial ~ This is merely an illustrative article. The possession of active and passive voice varies in different institutes. The article on this matter is found more commonly only under the election of delegates. 7 The norms of constitutions on precedence are very varied. The typical article given here consists of norms frequently found. usually yields only to the mother general, a gen-eral visitor, and in some institutes, to the mother assistant. Outside their own provinces, provincials rank among themselves according to first pro-fession, or date of appointment or election, but after the local superior, except in the general motherhouse, in some institutes the local superior always precedes the provincials of other provinces. h) Vice-provincials, regional superiors, superiors of missions. i) The provincial councilors, in the provin~cialate. In other houses they follow the local superior. N.B. In some constitutions the assistant pyovincial is given precedence after the mother provincial throughout the province. The order of precedence among elected provincial councilors is that of election. j) The provincial secretary, in the provincialate. k) The provincial treasurer, in the provincialate. In other houses the provincial secretary and treasurer follow the local superior. N.B. In some institutes provincial councilors and officials are given precedence throughout the province. Other practices are: they are given no special precedence; they are given special prece-dence only when exercising their office; frequently they always follow the local superior. 1) The local superiors. N~B. In her own house the local superior usually yields only to the mother general, visitor general, mother provincial, provincial visitor, and some-times to the mother assistant and assistant provin-cial. She accordingly ranks over other local su-peridrs in her own house. Among themselves local superior~ usually ~:ank by first profession, some-times by date of appointment, and in at least one institute by the date of the foundation of their houses. m) The mistress of novices, in the novitiate house only. N.B~ Frequently the mistress follows the local as-sistant. In more recent constitutions the mistress of.junior professed is given special precedence and in at least some of these before the mistress of novices. Her precedence also is confined to the juniorate house. n) The assistant mistress of novices, in the novitiate house' o~ly. N.B. Frequently the assistant mistress is given no special precedence. o) The local assistants, in their own houses. ÷ ÷ ÷ Constitutions VOLUME 25, 1966 367 N.B. In some constitutions the local assistant pre-cedes the local superiors of other houses. p) The local councilors, in their own houses. N.B. Frequently the local councilors are given no .special precedence. At least one congregation gives former mothers provincial precedence after the local councilors. q) The professed sisters according .to the seniority of their first profession. r) The novices according to the priority of their recep-tion. s) The postulants according to the order of their en-trance. If there is no difference in the time of profession, recep-tion, or entrance to the postulancy, the senior in age pre-cedes. 106; 491 8. The visitor during the time of her visitation pre-cedes all the sisters, even the local superiors in their own houses. 106, 1° (or) A general visitor during the time of her visitation precedes all the sisters, even the provincial and" local su-periors, and a provincial visitor in the same w~ty precedes even the local superiors. 106, 1 ° 9. The mother general shall be called . The title of ¯. shall be given to . The title of all other religious is Sister. The sisters are not permitted to assume or retain any merely honorary titles or privileges. The mother gen-eral alone at the expiration of her term of office shall re-tain the title of Mother and have the precedence stated in article 7. 515 CHAPTER III ÷ 4- 4- J. F. Gallen, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 368 TtIE RELIGIOUS HABIT 10. The habit is of suitable black material, reaching from the throat to the feet. It is plaited on a yoke and at the waist and has sleeves fitting close to the arms.s 492, § 3 11. The veil' of the professed sisters is of black material and light in weight. The veil of the novices is white. The coil and guimpe are of wldte material.492, § 3; 557 12. A rosary of large black beads hangs on the right side from a black leather cincture. 13. The professed sisters wear a silver ring on the third finger of the left hand. 14. The sisters are permitted to wear white habits, veils, cinctures, and rosaries while occupied in duties or in a climate that necessitates or counsels this dress. 15. All professed sisters must wear the habit both in s Al'ticles 10-14 are taken from one sqt of constii~utions and are il-lustrative of the merely external app.earanc~ of the habit that should be described in the constitutions; and out of the house, unless for a serious reason they are legitimately excused according to the judgment of the mother general (in provincial congregations: higher su-perior), 9 or, if the case is urgent, of the local superior. The habit prescribed by the constitutions for novices must likewise be worn during the entire period of the noviceship, unless special local circumstances determine otherwise. 596; 557 16. No permanent, substantial, or general change in the form or color of the habit may be made without the permission of the Holy See (but ~in a diocesan congrega-tion whose habit was not approved by the Holy See: with-out the consent .of all the ordinaries in whose dioceses the congregation has houses). 492, § 3; 618, § 2, 1° (but in the latter type o[ diocesan congregation: 492, § 2; 495, § 2;" 492, §. 3).10 17. Postulants shall wear a modest dress different from that of the novices. 540, § 2 CHAPTER IV "-FHE ~DowRY AND MATERIAL ENTRANCE I~.EQUIREMENTS § 1. Dowry 18. Postulants shall bring the dowry determined by the general chapter. The chapter may grant delegation in this matter to the mother general and her council. The dowry must be given to the mother general (in provincial con-gregations usually: mother provincial) before the be-ginning of the noviceship, or at least its payment guar-anteed in a manner recognized as valid in civil law. 547, §§ 2-3 19. The mother general (in provincial congregations: higher superior) with the consent of her council may remit wholly or in part the dowry of a candidate who lacks financial means, or because of special reasons.H 20. The prescribed dowry may not be cohdoned in any other case, either in whole or in part, without an indult of the Holy See (in diocesan congregations: without a dis-pensation from the local ordinary).1-~ 547, § 4 21. A postulant dispensed from the dowry is obliged to establish one later if she receives any substantial gift or bequest,x3 0 For brevity a congregation divided into provinces is indicated in these constitutions as a provincial congregation. a0 On diocesan~ congregations, see note 4. , = This power varies in different constitutions, and academic de-grees or like qualities are frequently emphasized as the equivalent, =In virtue of their faculties outside the Code of Canon Law, bishops and local ordinaries may dispense from the dowry also in pontifical institutes. ~ This article is found in several constitutions. ÷ + Constitutions VOLUME 25, 1966 369 22. After the first profession 0[ a sister, the mother general (in provincial congregations usually: mother pro-vincial) with the consent of her council and that of the 16cal ordinary must invest the dowry in safe, lawful, and profitable securities. The same conditions are necessary for any change in the investment. It is absolutely for-bidden before the death of a sister to spend the dowry it-self for any purpose whatsoevey, even for the building of a house or the payment of a debt. 549; 533, § 1, 2°; § 2; 2412, 1 o 23. The dowries must be prudently and justly ~dmin-istered at the habitual residence of the mother general (in provincial congregations usually: mother provincial). It is the right of the local ordinary to see to it that the dowries are maintained intact and to exact an account of them, particularly on the occasion of his canonical visitation. 550; 535, § 2 24. The dowry is irrevocably acquired by the congre-gation on the death of a sister, even though she had made profession of only temporary vows. 548 25. If aprofessed sister leaves the congregation for any reason whatsoever, her dowry must be returned to her in frill but not the interest already derived from it. 551, § 1 ÷ ÷ ÷ ]. F. Gallen, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 370 § 2. Material Entrance Requirements 26. The mother general (in provincial congregations: mother provincial, or: higher superior) with the consent (or advice, or no vote required) of her council shall deter-mine the wardrobe and the sum to be paid for the ex-penses of the postulancy and noviceship. In particular cases and for just reasons, the mother general (in provin-cial congregations: higher superior, or: mother provin-cial) has the right to dispense wholly or in part from this requirement. 570, § 1 27. A record shall be kept in a special register of all the property that the candidate brings with her to the. postulancy, signed by the candidate and two sisters as witnesses. The property that has not been consumed by use shall be returned to h~r in its current condition if she leaves without having made religious profession. 570, § 2 ' 28. Those wh6 leave, either at the expiration of temporary profession or by an indult of secularization or dismissal, may not seek compensation for services ren-dered the congregation at any time from their entrance. The candidates, therefore, upon their admission to the postulancy, must sign a civilly valid document in which they declare that they" will not seek compensation for services given before or after profession, whether they leave or are dismissed. This document is to be renewed at the time of perpetual profession. 643;§ 1 CHAPTER V ADMISSION OF CANDIDATES 29. Any Catholic woman may be admitted provided she is free from all impediments, is motivated by the right in-tention, and is capable of fulfilling the duties of the re-ligious life. 538. 30. The mother general (in provincial congregations: higher superior) shall not admit a candidate to the postu-lancy before careflfl investigation has been made regard-ing her character and conduct,14 544, § 7 31. The following are invalidly admitted to the novice-ship: a) Those who renounced the Catholic faith and joined a non-Catholic sect. b) Those who have not completed their fifteenth year. c) Those who enter religion induced by force, grave fear, or fraud; also those whom the mother general (provincial congregation: higher snperior) receives under pressure of the same influences. d) A married woman as long as the bond of matrimony endures. e) Those who are or have been professed members in any religious institute. f) Those who are menaced with punishment for a grave crime which they have committed and of which they have been or can be accused. 542, 1°; 2411; 2352 32. The following are illicitly but validly admitted to the noviceship: a) Those who are burdened with debts which they are unable to pay. b) Those who are under the obligation of rendering an account of some administration or who are im-plicated in other secular affairs from which the con-gregation may have reason to fear lawsuits or an-noyance. c) Those whose parents or grandparents are in grave necessity and need their assistance; and mothers whose help is necessary for the support or education of their children. d) Those of an Oriental rite, nnless they first obtain written permission from the Sacred Congregation for the Oriental Church. 542, 2°; 98; 756; 2411 33. Only the Holy See or those who have received the faculty from it can dispense from the impediments enu-merated in articles 31-2.80; 118; 2411 34. The mother general, must have the deliberative "Canon 544, § 7 applies only to candidates for institutes of women; + + + Constitutions VOLUME 25, 1966 371 ~. F. Gallen, $.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS vote of her council to dispense the following who are bound by an impediment of the constitutions against their licit admission to the noviceship: a) Those who are illegitimate and have not been legiti-mated. b) Those over thirty years of age. c) Those who were postulants or novices in another religious institute. d) Widows. 35. When there is question of admitting candidates who have been in a postulancy or noviceship of another institute, the mother general (provincial congregation: higher superior) shall obtain testimonial letters from the higher, superior of that institute. These letters must contain the reasons fo~ the aspirant;s dismissal or volunta.ry departure, must be signed under oath by the superior, and sealed. The letters shall not be given to' the aspirant but must be forwarded to the mother ~general (higher superior) who applied for them. 544, § 3; 545; 2411 (Congregation of 'brothers) Testimonial letters must be obtained from the ordinary of the place of origin of the candidate and of every place in which he has resided beyond a morally continuous year after the completion of his fourteenth year. When ther~ is question of admitting candidates who have been in a seminary, ecclesiastical college, postulancy, or noviceship of another institute, the brother general (provincial congregation: 'higher superior)shrill obtain testimonial letters from the rector of the seminary or college after consultation with the local ordinary or from the higher superior of the religious institute. These letters must contain the reasons for the aspirant's dismissal or voluntary departure, must be signed under oath by the,rector or higher superior, and :sealed. The letters shall not be given to the aspirant but must be for- " warded to the brother general (higher superior) who ap-plied for them. 544, §§ 2-3; 545; 2411 36. Before being admitted candidates must present these credentials: a) Certificates of baptism and confirmation. b) A. testimonial of good moral character from their pastor or another priest, unless .the aspirant is al-ready well known to the mother general (higher su-perior). c) CertifiCates 6[ good health, both physical and men-tal, from reliable professional sources. d) Other testimonials that the mother general (higher ~ This article is not necessarily contained in constitutions and, when so contained, often varies in content. superior) may consider necessary or opportune. 544, §§ l, 6-7 37. All who receive any of the foregoing information are strictly obliged to keep secret not only the information but also the names of the persons who supplied it.16 546 CHAPTER POSTULANCY 38. The right to admit an applicant to the postulancy belongs to the mother general (provincial congregation: higher superior), who has also the right to dismiss.her if she is judged Unfit for the life of the congregation. A pos-tulant has full liberty to leave the co.ngregation. 39. The postulancy, under the direction of a religious of tried virtue, shall be made in the novitiate house or in another house of the congregation where the discipline prescribed by the constitutions is faithfully observed.17 540, § 40. The time prescribed [or the postulancy is a year. For a jUSt reason and with the advice of her council, the mother general (higher superior) may prolong or shorten this time, but not beyond six months,is 539 41. Every three months, the mistress shall give to the mother general (higher superior) and her council a re-port of the postulant's virtues, defects, and aptitude for the life of the congregation. 42. About three months before the beginning of the noviceship; the postulant shall in writing p.etitioia the mother general (higher superior) for the holy habit. 43. The superior must inform the local ordinary at least two months in advance of the approaching admis-sion of a postulant to the noviceship, in order that he or his delegate, at least thirty days before the noviceship be-gins, may examine the postulant and determine whether she was deceived or forced into entering the congregation, ¯ and whether she understands the import of what ~he is about to do. If there is certainty of her religious and free intention, the postulant may be admitted to the noviceship. 552; 2412,2° 44. The right to admit to the noviceship belongs to X0Articles are often added in this chapter on the n~cessary quali-tiers, and signs of a vocation, the responsibility ~f all concerned to encourage and admit only suitable candidates, and on personal inter-views with the candidates. 17 In institutes of men, only lay brothers are obliged to the pos-tfllancy prescribed by the Code (c. 539, § 1); but in institutes of :brothers,, the common practice is tbat all make a postulancy. P A postulancy of hind months to a year is the common practice at present in congregations of sisters. Con~tlt.utions VOLUME 25, 1966 J. F. Gallen, S.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 374 the mother general (higher superior) with the consent of h~r council. 543 45. Before beginning the noviceship, the postulant shall make a spiritual retreat of eight entire days and, ac-cording to the prudent judgment of the confessor, a gen-eral confession of her past life.a9 541 CHAPTER VII NOVICESHIP § 1. Place of the Noviceship 46. The establishment or transfer of a novitiate may be made only by the mother general with. the consent of her council and the (pontifical congregation) permis-. sion of the Holy See (diocesan congregation:., her coun-cil and the permission of the local ordinary)3° 554, § 1 47. (Provincial congregation) As soon as possible, each province shall have its own novitiate. More than one novitiate house may not be erected in the same province without a serious reason and a special apostolic indult. 554, § Z 48. As far as possible, the novitiate shall be separated from the part of the house occupied by. the professed sisters so that, without a special reason and the permission of the superior and the mistress of novices,, the novices may have no communication with the professed sisters nor the latter with the novices. 564, § 1 49. Superiors shall have in the novitiate house only sisters who are exemplary in their zeal for religious ob-servance. 554, § 3 § 2. Requirements for the Noviceship 50. (One year) The duration of the noviceship is one year, and it is completed on the day following the anni-versar. y day of its inception. 555, § 1, 2°; 34, § 3, 3° 50. (Two years) The duration of the n0viceship is two years. The first is the canonical year. The second year is no.t required for the validity of profession, although only the Holy See (diocesean congregation: local ordinary) may dispense from it wholly or in part. An apostolic in-dult is requi~ed to transfer the canonical year to the sec-ond year. 555; 34, § 3, 3° 52. The canonical year begins with the reception of the habit, or in any other manner determined by the mother general (provincial congregation: higher superior). It is 19 Articles on the purpose and discipline of the postulancy and on the qualities and appointment of the mistress of postulants are often included in this chapter. '-~ The mother provincial with the consent of her council presents to the mother general the request for the erection or transfer of a novitiate. completed on the day after the first anniversary of its commencement. The second year ends on the second anniversary of the inception of the canonical year, and on this day the temporary profession may be licitly pro-nounced. 553; 34, § 3, 3° 53. Besides the conditions enumerated in article 31, it is further required for validity that the canonical year be made for an entire and uninterrupted yea~ and in the novitiate house. 555, § 1 54. The canonical year is interrupted so that it must be begun again and completed: a) If a novice is dismissed by the~mother general (pro-vincial congregation frequently: higher superior or mother provincial) and leaves the house. b) If a novice, without the permission of the superior, leaves the house with the intention of not returning. c) If for any reason whatever a novice has remained outside the house, even with the intention of return-ing and with the permission of the superior, for more than thirty days, whether these days were con-secutive Or not. 556, § 1; 32, § 1 55. If a novice, either with the permission of super!ors or constrained by force, has remained outside the house under obedience to the superiors for more than fifteen but not more than thirty days of the canonical year, even if these days were not consecutive, it is necessary and suf-ficient for the validity of the noviceship that the novice make up the time thus passed outside. If the absence un-der these conditions did not exceed fifteen days, the mother general (provincial congregation frequently: higher superior or mother provincial) may require that it be made up, but this is not necessary for the validity of the noviceship. 556, § 2; 32, § 1 56. If a novice is transferred from one novitiate to an-other, the noviceship is not interrupted, but articles 54 and 55 are to be observed. 556, § 4. 57. Superiors shall not grant a novice permission to remain outside the confines of the novitiate except for a just and serious reason. 556, § 3 § 3. Formation of the Novices 58. The time of the noviceship under the direction of the mistress must have for its object the forming of the mind and will of the novice by.the study (of the Rule and) of the constitutions; devout meditation and assiduous prayer; instructions on matters which appertain to the vows and virtues; suitable exercises for the thorough amendment of defects, the restraining of evil inclinations, and the acquisition of virtues.~x 565, § 1 '-'~ "Of the Rule and" are omitted if the congregation has no Rule. See note 2. ÷ + ÷ Constitutions VOLUME 25, 1966 375 ÷ ]. F. Gallen, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 376 59. During the first year, the novices must not be em-ployed in extei-nal works of the congregation nor should they apply themselves intensively to the study of letters, sciences, or the arts. They may perform domestic-duties in a subordinate capacity and only insofar as these do not interfere with the prescribed exercises of the novice-ship. 5.65, § 3 60. "During the second year, the novices may be em-ployed in the external works but without prejudice to the fundamental laws of the noviceship. Therefore, during the second year, the discipline of the spiritual life must be attended to above all other duties. 61. This employment must. be assigned with prudence and moderation and only for the instruction and train-ing of the novices. N~vices shall never have the entire charge of any such employment, but shall always be under the direction and supervision of an experienced and exemplary religious who by word and example shall in-struct arid guide them. 62. For a grave reason and by way of exception, a nov-ice may be assigned to external works outside the novitiate house during this ~ime. This may be done only for a rea-son founded on the requirements of the novice's training, but never for the utility or necessity of the congregation. 63. NoviCes' shall abstain from all external works two months before their profession and, if they are outside the novitiate house, they are to be recalled, so that dur-ing this entire period they may strengthen-themselves in the spirit of their vocation and prepare for their religious profession. 64. The novices and postulants are 'to be instructed thoroughly in Christian doctrine. A special conference on this subject shall be given to them at least once a week, if posgible by a priest approved by the local ordinary. They Shall not only commit to memory the ordinary for-mulas of the faith, but shall also be able to explain them properly. The mother general (provincial congregation frequently: motfier provincial or higher superior) shall not admit novices to profession unless they .satisfactorily pass a special examination in Christian doctrine. § 4. End o[ the Noviceship 65. Three months before the end of the noviceship, the novices, shall in writing reque.st admission to profes-sion frbm the mother general (provincial congregation frequently: mother-provincial). ' 66. 'The novice shall be informed of her admission to .vows so that in due time she may relinquish the admin-istration of her property, dispose, of its use and usufruct, and +make a will, as prescribed in the chapter on poverty. 569 67. She may freely leave the congregation, or for any just reason be dismissed by the mother general (provincial congregation frequently: higher superior or mother pro-vincial) with the advice of her council. The superior is not obliged to reveal to the novice the reason [or her dis-missal. 571, § 1. 68. When the noviceship is completed, the novice shall be admitted to profession if she is judged suitable; other-wise she must be dismissed. If her suitability is doubtful, the mother general (provincial congregation frequently: higher superior) with the advice of her council may pro-long the time of the noviceship but not beyond six months. 571, § 2. 69. Before pronouncing her vows, the novice shall make a spiritual retreat of eighi entire days. 571, ~. 3 , § 5. Profession of a Novice in Danger of Death 70. Even though she has not completed the time of her noviceship, a novice in danger of death may, for the con-solation of her soul, be admitted to profession by any superior, the mistress .of novices, or their delegates. The ordinary formula of profession is to be used if the con-dition of the novice permits, but without any determina-tion of time. 7i. By this profession, the novice'is granted a plenary indulgence in the form of a jubilee; the profes~ion,how-ever, has no canonical effect. If the novice should'recover her health, her state will be the same as if she had made no profession. Therefore, if she perseveres, she must com-plete the full time of the noviceship and on its com-pletion m~ke a new profession.2~ CHAPTER VIII RELIGIOUS PROFESSION 72. Upo~ the completion of the noviceship and in the novitiate house, the novice shall, make profession of simple vows for one year. This profession is to be re-newed annually until five full years of temporary vows are completed,z~ The mother general (provincial con-gregation: mother provincial or higher superior) may prolong the prescribed period of temporary pro.fession, but not beyond a ),ear, in which, case the sister must re-new her temporary profession. 574; 34, § 3, 5°; 577, § 1 OR:. the novice shall make profession of simple vows for three (two) years. At the end of this period, the sister ~ This cha'pter often contains spiritual articles on the formation of novices and on interviews with the mistress. . , -~ Five years of temporary vows is.the growing 15ractice in cOngre-gations of sisters. 4, 4, 4, Constitutions VOLUME "~S, 1966 shall renew her vows for two (three) years.24 The mother general. OR: Upon the completion of the noviceship and in the novitiate house, the novice shall make profession of sim-ple vows for" three years or until the completion of her twenty-first year if a longer time is necessary to attain the age prescribed for perpetual pro~ession. The mother general . may prolong the prescribed period of tem-porhry profession, but not beyond a second term of three years; in which case the sister must renew her temporary profession.2~ 574; 573; 34, § 3, 5°; 577, § 1 73. The right to admit to profession belongs to the mother general with the vote of her council. This vote shall be deliberative for the first temporary profession but onIy consultative for the renewal and prolongation of temporary vows and for perpetual profession. Before the first and perpetual profession, the local ordinary shall be informed in the manner described in article 43. 543; 575, § 2; 552; 2411; 2412,2° (Provincial congregation) The right to admit to first profession, prolongation of temporary vows, and per-petual profession appertains to the mother general with the vote of her council. This vote shall be deliberative for ¯ the first temporary profession but only consultative for the prolongation of temporary vows and perpetual pro-fession. The mother provincial presents the requests ~or admission to the mother general, with the deliberative vote of her' council for first profession and the consulta-tive vote for prolongation of temporary vows and for perpetual profession. The right to admit to renewals of temporary vows ~appertains to the mother provincial with the consultative vote of her council. Before the first. (as in the preceding).26 74. For the validity of any profession these conditions are necessary: a) That the. sister who makes profession will have com-pleted her sixteenth year before temporary and her twenty-first year before perpetual profession. b) That she be admitted to profession by the mother 4, 4, 4, .1. F. Gallen, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~ The Holy See does not insist on any determined division of the five-year duration and has approved five annual professions, three annual professions and one of two years, a profession of two' years followed by one of three years, and a profession of three years fol-lowed by one of two years. z~ In a thre~-year duration also the Holy See has not insisted on any determined duration of profession and has approved constitu-tions in which the profession is made in the one act for three years, the most common practice, or that the first be made for one and the second for two years, or vice versa. ~ There is sufficient variety on the right of admission in provincial congregations. See R~vmw fOR R~ezous, 19 (1960), 144. general (higher superior) according to the constitu-tions. c) That the profession be preceded by a valid novice-ship. d) That it be made without violence, grave fear, or fraud. e) That it be made in express terms. t') That it be received by the mother general or a sister delegated by her. (Provincial, regional, and) Local superigrs and their l.egitimate substitutes are,dele-gated by the constitutions to receive all professions in their (provinces, regions, and) houses and with power also to subdelegate. For the validity of the simple perpetual profession it is further required that it be preceded by three .complete years of temporary vows. The added period of two years is not necessary for the validity of the perpetual prqfes-sion but only the Holy See (diocesan congregation: local ordinary) may dispense from it wholly or in part. 572-3; 2352 75. The following is the formula of profession: . 576, § 1; 585 76. The written declaration of the profession, whether temporary or perpetual, must be signed by the p~rofessed sister, the mother general or sister delegate who received the profession, and two other sisters as witnesses. This document shall be carehdly preserved in the files of the congregation. 576, § 2 77. Three months before the expiration of each tem-porary profession, the' sisters'shall present a written peti-tion to the mother general (provincial congregation fre-quently: mother provincial) to be admitted to the renewal of temporary vows or to perpetual profession. 78. When the time for which the vows were pro-nounced has expired, they must be renewed without de-lay~ However, for a just reason, the mother gen.eral (pro-vincial congregation frequently: higher superior or mother provincial) may permit the renewal of temporary vows to be anticipated, but not by more than a month. An anticipated profession expires only on the day on which a non-anticipated profession would have expired. 577 79. Before perpetual profession, the sisters shall make a retreat of . . entire days, and before the renewal of temporary vows, a retreat of . day(s). Only the first pro-fession must be made in the novitiate house. 574, § 1 80. When the period of temporary profession has ex-pired, the sister must without delay make perpetual pro- ~ession or return to secular life; but even during the pe-riod of temporary pro[ession, it not judged worthy to pronounce perpetual vows, she may be dismissed by the + VOLUME 25, 1966 379 ÷ ÷ ~. F. Gallen, S~J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 380 mother general (diocesan congregation: local, ordinary) conformably to articles 155 and following. 575, § 1 ' 81. Simple profession, whether temporary or perpetual, ¯ renders acts contrary to the vows illicit but not invalid.27 579 CHAPTER IX Vow AND VIRTUE OF POVERTY 82. By the vow of poverty the sisters renounce the right of disposing licitly Of any temporal thing of mone-tary value without the permission of their lawful superior. 83. With the permission of the local superior, the sis-ters may perform acts of proprietorship required by civil law. If such an act includes alienation of property or con-cerns an important matter, this permission is reserved to the mother general (provincial congregations: higher su-periors) unless the case is urgent, when it may be given by the local superior. " 84. The sisters, .whethEr of temporary or perpetual vows, retain the ownership of their property and the capacity of acqtiiring other property, subject to the pro-visions that follow regarding its disposition and adminis- .tration. 580, § 1 85. Whatever the sistersacquire after profession by their personal activity or for the congregation or as re-ligious becomes the property of the congregation (,prov-. ince,) or house. 580, § 2 86. A professed sister, whether of temporary or per-petual vows, may not renounce the ownership of her property by a free gift effective during her lifetime. 583, 1 ° 87. If during the course of her noviceship a novice renounces her property in any m~nner or burdens it with any obligation, the renunciation or obligation is not only illicit but also null and void. 568 88. Before her first profession and for the entire time that she will be bound by vows, the novice must cede the administration of her property to whomsoever she chooses and freely dispose of its use and usufruct. 569, § 1 89. If this cession and disposition were omitted because the novice had no property and if subsequently property comes to her, or if, after making the provision, other property comes to her under any title, she shall, notwith-standing her simple profession, make or renew the provi-sion stated above for the newly acquired property. 569, § 2 90. A professed sister may change this cession and dis-position with the permission of the mother general, but ~ This chapt.er Often contains an article on the devotional renewal of vows and articles on the formation of the junior professed. The former is fkequently placed in ~l~e chapter(s) on the religious exer-cises, the latter in a special section of the chapter on the works of the congregation. the permission of the Holy See is necessary if the change is of a notable part of the property in favor of the congre-gation. 580, § 3 91. If a sister leaves or is dismissed, the cession and dis-position cease to have any validity. 580, § 3 92. Before profession of temporary vows, a novice shall freely.make a civilly valid will concerning all the property she actually possesses or may subsequently acquire. A pro-fessed sister may not alter her will without the permission of the Holy See or, if the case is urgent and time does not permit recourse to the Holy See, without the permission of the mother general (provincial 'congregation: higher su-perior); when recourse cannot be .had to the latter, ~with-out the permission of the local, superior. 569, § 3; 583, 2° ¯ 93. Common life must be observed exac.tly in all houses and by all the sisters even in matters of food, clothing, and personal necessities.2s 594; 2389 CHAPTER X VOW AND VIRTUE OF CHASTITY 94. By the vow of chastity :the sisters bind themselves to a life of celibacy and, by a new obligation from the virtue of religion, to abstain from any internal or external act opposed to chastity39 1058; 2388, § 2 CHAPTER XI VOW, AND VIRTUE O~ OBEDIENCE 95. By the vow of obedience the sisters consecrate to God their own will and oblige themselves from the virtue of religion to obey the commands of their lawful superiors in everything that directly or indirectly concerns the ob-servance, of the vows and constitutions.¯ 96. The sisters are bound to obey by reason of the vow only when lawful superiors command expressly in virtue of holy obedience or in equivalent words.30 ~s Other articles are usually included in this chapter on the pur-pose of religious poverty, that the cession anti disposition are to be made in a manner civilly binding, that a clause should be added al-lowing the sister to revoke the cession and disposition at her mere will, the virtue or spirit of poverty, that superiors are to insist on the observance of poverty, exhortations to all to observe it, the example of our Lord, His counsel on poverty, the importance of common life and insistence on its observance, norms on gifts, the level of material things permitted in the congregation, a prohibition against being the custodian of property of seculars, norms on asking for contributions especially from students, and exhortations to trust in divine provi-dence. = Other articles are commonly found in this chapter on the pur-pose of religious chastity, exhortations to its most perfect observance, and some norms on precautions and preservatives. ~ Other formulas are found, for example, under formal precept, and so forth. + + q. Constitutions VOLUME 25, 1966 381 97. Superiors shall rarely, prudentJy, and cautiously command in virtue of holy obedience and only for a grave reason. It is expedient that a formal precept be given in writing or at least in the presence of two wit-nesses. 98. Local superiors, especially of small houses, shall not give commands in virtue of holy obedience except in grave and urgent cases and they should then immediately notify the mother general (provincial congregation: mother provincial).31 99. The sisters are obliged by the virtue of obedience to fulfill the prescriptions of the constitutions and other orders of superiors. 100. The sisters may. always have their vow as the mo-tive of any act of obedience, and such an intention is implicitly contained in the act of their religious profes-sion. The special merit of the vow thus extends not only to formal precepts but also to the usual directions of su-periors and to every act in conformity with the constitu-tions. 32 CHAPTER XII PENANCE AND HOLY EUCHARIST 4- 1. F. Gallen, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 38_'2 § 1. Penance 101. The sisters will usually go to confession at least once a week. 595, § 1, 3 °; 566, § 1 102. For every house there shall be only one ordinary confessor, designated by the local ordinary, .who shall hear the confessions of the entire commpnity, unless it is necessary to assign, two or even more confessors because of the large number of sisters or for any other just reason. 520, § 1 ¯ 103. If a particular sister, ~or the .peace of her con-science or greater spiritual progress, should ask. for a special confessor or spiritual director, the request shall be made to the local ordinary. It is his duty to see that abuses do not arise, and if they do arise to eliminate them. 590, § 2 104. To every community sh~ll be assigned an extraor-dinary confessor, who at least.four times a year shall come to the religious house and to whom all the sisters shall present themselves, if only to receive his blessing. 521, § 1 al Various forms of this article are found in constitutions, for ex-ample, the authority to give a precept in virtue of the vow is reserved in some congregations to higher superiors. a~ Other articles are ordinarily included in this chapter on the pur-pose of religious obedience, the obedieuce of will and judgment, the example of our Lord, representation, on asking ordinary permissions from the immediate superior, respect and reverence for superiors, avoidance of criticism and murmuring, prompt aud faithful attend-ance at common duties, and on following the horarium. 105. Snperiors shall inquire from the local ordinary what priests have been designated for each house, to whom in particular cases the sisters may easily have re-course for the sacrament of penance without having to apply to the Ordinary on each occasion. 521, § 2 106. If a sister should ask for one of these confessors, no superior is allowed either personally or through others, either directly or indirectly, to inquire into the reason for the petition, to show opposition to it by word or deed, or in any way manifest displeasure at the request. 521, § ~; 2414 107. If notwithstanding the prescriptions of the pre-ceding articles, a sister has recourse for the peace of her conscience to a confessor approved by the local ordinary for the confessions of women, even though not approved for religious women, this confession is valid and licit provided it is made in a church or oratory, even semipub-lic, or in any other place legitimately designated for the confessions of religious or secular women, The superior may not forbid such a confession nor ask about it even indirectly, and the sister is under no obligation to inform the superior of the matter. Nevertheless, the sisters are bound to respect the requirements of religious discipline. 522; 2414; 909-10, § 1 108. When sisters are seriously ill, even though not in danger of death, they may call any priest approved for the confessions of women, though not designated for re-ligious women, and make their confession to him as often as they wish during their serious illness. The superior may not either directly 0r indirectly prevent them from doing so. 523; 2414 109. When in danger of death, the sisters may make their confession to any priest, even to one not approved for confessions, and even if an approved priest should be present. 882 110. All superiors are to strive earnestly to have con-fessors readily available before Communion. 111. The ordinary confessor of the sisters may not exer-cise his office for a term exceeding three years. The local ordinary, however, may appoint him for a second and even a third term if scarcity of priests suitable for the office does not permit him to provide otherwise; oi if the majority of the sisters, including even those who in other matters have no right to vote, petition by secret voting for the reappointment of the confessor. Those who dissent are to be otherwise provided for if they so desire,sa 526; 524, § 2 " re.In virtue of their Pastorale munus faculty n. 33, bishops may make this reappointmcnt even for a fifth triennium. + + + Constitutions VOLUME 25; 1966 383 112. The sisters shall remember that the confessors may not in any manner interfere in the internal or external government of the community. 524, § 3 In institutes of brothers, the preceding section on penance will be as follows: § 1. Penance 1. The brothers will usually go to confession at least once a week. 595, § 1, 3 °; 566, § 2, 1" 2. Every house shall have an ordinary confessor, and an extraordinary confessor is to come to each house four times a year. Both confessors are appointed by the local ordinary. If a brother requests a special confessor, the su-perior is to grant the request without in any way inquir-ing into the reason for the petition. 528; 874, § 1; 875,.§ 2 3. There shall be one or more ordinary confessors for the novitiate according to the number of novices. These are to come at least frequently to the novitiate house to hear the confessions of the novices. 566, § 2, 1-2" '~ 4. Some other confessors are to be appointed, in addi-tion to the ordinary confessors, whom the novices may freely approach in particular cases. The master of novices is to show no displeasure on such occasions. 566, § 2, 3° 5. At least four times a year the novices shall be given an extraordinary confessor, to whom all the fiovices must present themselves, if only to receive his blessing. 566, § 6. I[ a brother has recourse [or the peace o[ his con-science to a confessor approved by the local ordinary, even though he is not among the appointed con[essors, the con~ession is valid and licit. 519 7. When in danger o~ death, the brothers may make their con~ession to any priest, even to one not approved for confessions, and even ff an approved priest should be present.~ 882 8. All superiors.are to strive earnestly to have donfessors readily available before Communion. 1. F. Gallen, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 384 § 2. Manifestation of Conscience 113. All superiors are strictly forbidden to induce their subjects in any manner whatever to make a manifestation of conscience to them. Subjects are not forbidden to open their consciences freely and spontaneously to their su-perid~ s; on the contrary, it is profitable for subjects to approach their superiors with filial confidence. 530 ~ In some constitutions of brothers the following confessor is also found: "In case of illness the sick brother may ask for any confessor he desires. His pious wishes shall be respected as regards Holy Com-munion," § 3. Holy Eucharist 114. The sisters shall assist daily with all possible d'evo-tion at the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. Superiors shall promote among their subjects the frequent, even daily, reception of Holy Communion, and liberty must be given to every properly disposed religious 'to receive the Holy Eucharist frequently and even every day.35 595, § :'1, 2°; § 2;. 863 1.15. Superiors must carefully eliminate every obstacle to the liberty of the individual religious to receive or ab-stain from Holy Communion. 116. If a sister since her last sacramental confession has given grave scandal to the community or committed a serious external fault, a superior may forbid her to re-ceive Holy Communion until she has again approached the sacrament of penance. 595, § 3 117. Super,iors are obliged to give the sisters sufficient time for preparation and thanksgiving for Mass and Holy Communion, as well as for confession.36 CHAPTER XIII RELIGIOUS EXERCISES 118. The :sisters shall recite daily in common and in the vernacular Lauds, Vespers, and Compline of the Di-vine Office.3r 595, § 1, 2° 119. Every morning (day)the sister~ shall spend a half hour in mental prayer,a8 They shall individually prepare the subject of the prayer the preceding evening. 595, § 1, 2o ~'~ The articles on Mass and Communion may be very appropriately expressed in liturgical language. ~ Other articles frequently included in this chapter are on the grandeur of the Mass and the sacraments, preparation for them and the manner and dispositions for receiving and assisting with profit, and the observance of rigid secrecy by superiors in matters of' mani-festation of conscience. 27 The Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary is the one that has usually been recited in institutes of simple vows. Constitutions en-joining only private recitation of this Office arc relatively few. The amount and days of common recitation prescribed in other institiates are sufficiently varied. In some congregations the whole Office is re-cited daily in common and in all the houses; in others this same ob-ligation extends only to the mother house, while houses engaged in the external works of the institute recite the entire Office in common only on Sundays, holydays and other vacation days; finally; some in-stitutes demand that only a part og the Office be~:recited daily in common. See R~vmw for l~e~ous, 13 (1954), 129-30. An article such as that on the Office could be expressed in liturgical language. On the Divine Office for congregations, see R~wEw for R~tm~ous, 24 s(~1 9T6h5is) ,m 4i7n~im-4u. m ~of a half hour is the practice in very many con-gregations; many have a half hour in both morning' and afternoon; a few have a notably greater period, for example, a hour and a half or three quarters daily. + + Constitutions VOLUME 25~ 1966 385 120. They shall make the particuIar and general exam-ination of conscience at noon and at night. Privately and at a convenient time during the day, they shall recite five decades of the rosary and devote at least fifteen min-utes to spiritual reading. 125, 2°; 592; 595, § 1, 2° 121. The sisters shall accustom themselves to make fre-quent visits to the Blessed Sacrament. 125, 2°; 592 122. Annually the sisters shall make a retreat of. full days.39 They shall observe a day of monthly recollection, which ordinarily is to be the. Sunday of the month. 595, § 1, 1° 123. The sisters shall make a public devotional renewal. of their vows on . They should renew their vows fre-" quently in private, particularly after Holy Communion and on the day of monthly recollection. The formula of this renewal is: . 595, § 1, 2° 124. Superiors shall grant another suitable time to sis-ters who are prevented from performing the prescribed spiritual duties at the regular time.4° 595, § 1 CHAPTER XIV MORTIFICATION AND PENANCE 125. Once a month (four times a year) the sisters in public chapter shall accuse themselves of external trans-gressions of religious discipline. 126. In the practice of corporal mortifications and penances of a private nature, the sisters are to be guided solely by the confessor; for those that are public they must have the permission of the superior.41 + + + J. F. Gallen, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 386 ~0 Ordinarily the prescribed duration is eight or six days, but seven and five days are found. Some also have a retreat of one or three days at the close of the year. ,0 Other exercises are very frequently prescribed in the constitu-tions, for example, morning and evening prayers, way of the cross, holy hour, hour or half hour of adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, Franciscan rosary, novenas, exercises in honor of the Passion on Friday, the Blessed Mother on Saturday, and added prayers or devo-tions during the months of March, May, June, October, November, and the season of Lent. The chapter usually also contains articles on the obligation of superiors to see that the religious exercises are per-formed, their power of dispensing from these, and that the religious are not to absent themselves from the exercises without permissiou. In these typical constitutions the article on the exhortations is placed in the chapter on local houses and superiors. 4~The more spiritual section of the constitutions is ordinarily found in this part in chapters on virtues and devotions, for example, spirit of the congregation, charity, fraternal charity, union and char-ity, humility, modesty, simplicity, constancy in striving for perfection~ meekness, zeal, mortification and penance, religious observance, per-fection of ordinary actions, order of the day, employment of time, devotion to the eternal Father, to the Passion of our Lord, the Sacred Heart, the Eucharist, the Holy Spirit, the Blessed Virgin Mary, angels, and St. Joseph. CHAPTER XV ENCLOSURE, CORRESPONDENCE, SILENCE § i. Enclosure 127. The law of enclosure shall be observed in. every house. This requires that certain parts of the convent re-main so reserved to the sisters that no person of the other sex42 may be admitted. These parts are the refectory, the dormitories~o[ the sisters, their ceils, the infirmary, in a word, all places destined by the mother general (pro-vincial congregation: higher superior) for the exclusive use of the sisters. 604, §§ 1, 3 128. The following are permitted to enter the en-closure: the local ordinary or his delegate for the canoni-cal visitation, priests to administer the sacraments to the sick or to assist the dying, physicians, and those whose services are necessary. Others also may be admitted when a just and reasonable cause exists in the judgment of the superior. The proper precautions are always to be ob-served. 604, § 1; 598, § 2; 600 129. When a convent has attached to it a school for day or boarding pupils or quarters devoted to other works proper to the congregation, at least a separate part of the house should be reserved, if possible, for the living quar-ters of the religious, and this part should be subject to the law of enclosure. Even to places outside the enclosure re-served for day or boardingp~upJilssor for works proper to the congregation, those o[the other sex should not be ad-mitted except for a good reason and with the permission of the superior. 604, § 2; 599 130. If the.chaplain or other priests live in the house of the sisters, their apartments shall if possible have a separate entrance and be separated from the part of the house occupied by the sisters. 131. Superiors shall diligently insist that the law of en-closure be strictly observed and that neither the visits of externs nor useless conversation relax religious discipline nor weaken religious spirit. 605; 604, § 3 132. The sisters may not leave the house without the permission of the superior. Ordinarily they may not go out without a sister companion. 606, § l; 607 133. Superiors may not permit their subjects to live outside a house of the congregation except for a just and serious reason and [or as brief a.period as possible. For an absence of more than six months, except for study, the permission of the Holy See (diocesan congregation: local ordinary) is, always required. In the case of study the ~"-Some congregations exclude by the law of their own constitu-tions also those of the same sex. + + + Constitutions VOLUME 25, 1966 ~8~ I. F. Gallen, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS sisters are obliged to live in a religious house if possible, and to attend institutions that are approved or recognized by ecclesiastical authority. 606, § 2 § 2. Correspondence ¯ 134. The sisters shall not send or receive letters without permission of the superior, who has the right to read them, and to deliver or retain them according to her judgment. The superior should exercise this authority with discretion, charity, and prudence, She is obliged to observe rigorous secrecy about what she has learned from the sisters' correspondence. 135. All the sisters may freely send letters exempt from all inspection to the Holy See, to its legate in the country, to the mother general (provincial congregation: higher superiors) and her (their) councilors, to their local su-perior when she is absent from the house, and to the local ordinary in matters in which they are subject to him. From all of these persons the sisters may also receive let-ters which no one has the right to inspect. 611 136. The correspondence of the junior professed, novices, and postulants is under the supervision of their mistresses and superiors with the exceptions mentioned in the preceding article. § 3. Silence 137. Sacred silence shall be observed throughout the house from., until . If it should be absolutely neces-sary to speak during this time, the sisters shall do so as briefly as possible and in a low voice. During the re: mainder of the day except at times appointed for recrea-tion, they should observe ordinary religious silence, speak-ing briefly and quietly when this is required by duty, charity, or courtesy. 138. Silence shall be observed at meals~ according to the custom oL the congregation. The reading at table shall be from a spiritual or instructive book approved by the superior.43 ~ ~ Other articles found frequently inthis chapter are on the pur-pose of cloiste.r; location of parlors and necessity of permission to re-ceive visitors; restrictions on visits, at least outside of special cases, during Advent, Lent, days of special recollection, and time of reli-gious exercises; deportment with visitors; permission of higher su-perior necessary for overnight absences; norms on family visits; when traveling the sisters are to stay in one of their own convents or, if poss.ible, in the house of another religious institute; norms for fre-quency and style of correspondence; purpose of silence; observance of interior silence; strict silence to be observed always in determined places, for example, chapel, sacristy, dormitories or ceils, and the corridors of the convent; duty of superiors to guard the observance of silence; frequency of and deportmeht during daily recreation; and an. article stating that talking is permitted on recreation days at the customary times and places. APOSTOLATE 139. Superiors shall have in the juniorate house only sisters who are exemplary in their zeal for religious ob-servance. 554, § 3 140. The sisters in hospitals shall be guided by' re-ligious and ethical principles in their professional ac-tivities. In case of doubt they shall consult religious or ecclesiastical authority. 141. A sacristan shall be appointed in each house, She should have a thorough knowledge of liturgical require-ments and be particularly attentive to the laws concern-ing shcred vessels, the washing of Sacred linens, the cus-tody of the tabernacle key, the necessity of having at least one lamp burning before the Blessed Sacrament, and on the material that may be used for the lamp. 1269, § 4; 1271; 130644 CHAPTER XVII CARE OF THE SICK 142. Spiritual aid shall aI~ays be promptly given to the sick. The sisters who are seriously ill may ask for the ~ The part of the constitutions on the apostolate contains very canons or other common legal articles. It is frequently divided into sections or contains articles on the following topics. 1. General. Sub-limity of apostolate; solidarity of all members in it; necessity of excel-lence in all aspects of formation and of the apostolate and of constant progress; need of prudent adaptation of methods to the times; ne-cessity of loyal cooperation in all; fostering.of vocations. 2. Juniorate and mistress of junior professed. Obligation of complete undergrad-uate education before full assignment to apostolate; generosity in supplying necessities for studies to juniors; motive in, studies; naturd' of period of temporary vows; outline of subjects to be studied; teach-ers in the juniorate; qualities of mistress; manner of appointment; norms for her direction of juniors. 3. Period of greater recollection before perpetual profession and renovation or tertianship. Purpose of both; time o~[ making latter; norms for the mistress o[ each; gen-eral plan of both. 4. Supervisor(s) oI schools and studies. Duties; re-lation to higher superiors; annual visitation of schools. 5. Teaching sisters, Purpose; necessity of preparation; relation to principal; man-ner of dealing with students. 6. Principals. Duties. 7. Hospital super-visor, whose duties parallel those of supervisor of schools. 8. Hospital sisters. Purpose of their apostolate; their training; necessity of con-stant progress in their work; relations with doctors and other hospital personnel. 9. Hospital administrators. Norms for their work and for the harmonious direction of those under them. 10. Social service su-pervisor. Qualities; relation to higher superiors; visitation; norms for her work, 11. Sisters in social work~. Purpose; to be properly and fully trained; directives for their work. 12. Convent duties. Purpose of and norms for the work of those engaged in laundry, sewing, housekeep-ing departments and as sacristan or portress, and so forth. The arti-cles on the latter two are usually found in the chapter on local houses and superiors. 4. 4- 4. Constitutions VOLUME 25, 1966 389 ÷ ÷ ÷ J. F. Gallen, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 390 confessor they prefer, and he should be called conform-ably with articles 108-9. 523; 882 143. All sisters who are ill should be given the oppor-tunity of receiving Holy Communion frequently, and even daily, during their illness. 863; 865 144. When a sister is in danger of death, it is the duty of the superior and infirmarian to have the last sacra-ments administered in due time. 865; 944; 882; 468; 514, 145. It is both a permissible and salutary practice that a sister receive Holy Viaticum daily, even when not fast-ing, as long as the probable danger of death continues, 864, § 3 146. At .the approach of death, a priest shall be called° to assist the sister who is dying according'to the rite pre-scribed by the Roman Ritual.4~ '/68 CHAPTER XVIII SUFFRAGES FOR THE DEAD 147. At the death of a professed religious or novice, the local superior shall immediately inform the mother gen-eral (provincial) and the close relatives of the deceased. The mother general (provincial)46 shall promptly send a notification to all the houses (o[ the province). 567, § 1; 578, 1o CHAPTER XIX DEPARTURE" AND DISMISSAL § 1. Unlawful Departure 148. An apostate from religion is one who, having made profession of solemn or simple perpetual vows, unlawfully leaves the religious house with the intention of not re- 4~ The matter of this chapter is principally norms on the obliga-tion of the superior to care for the health of the sisters and of the latter to use the ordinary means but to avoid excessive care, the ob-ligation to inform the superior when ill, norms for the care of the sick and for suffering patiently, on consulting and visits to doctors, obligation of superiors aml counsel to other sisters to visit the sick. care for and charity also to aged and feeble sisters, qualities of and norms for the infirmariao, reservation at least in larger~houses of a suitable section as an infirmary, Eucharistic fast for sick, prayers for those in danger of death, attendance of other sisters at rites for the dying, and on funerals and burial. : - 4n This chapter is composed principally of articles on the suffrages for professed and novices, greater suffrages for present and past su-periors and officials, suffrages for the Roman pontiff, cardinal pro-tector, local ordinary, father and mother of a sister, for benefactors, relatives, and friends, means for informing all of the anniversary of a sister's death, and an exhortation to perform the prescribed suf-frages promptly and to remember deceased sisters in.other prayers and good works. turning; or who, with the intention of withdrawing her-self from religious obedience, though she lawfully left the house, does not return to it. The evil intention referred to in the preceding para-graph is legally presumed when the religious within a month has neither returned nor manifested to her su-perior the intention of returning. . A fugitive is one' who without the permission of her superiors deserts the religious house but with the inten-tion of retufning to her institute. 644; 2385-6 149. Neither apostates nor fugitives are freed from the obligation of the rule and vows and must without delay return to their institute. The superiors must seek them with solicitude and re-ceive them if they return animated by a sincere repent-anew. 645 150. A religious who apostatizes from her congregation automatically incurs an excommunication reserved to the ordinary o~ the place where she is staying. She is ex-cluded from legitimate ecclesiastical acts and is deprived of all the privileges of her institute. If she returns, she is perpetually deprived of active and passive voice and is moreover to be otherwise punished by her superiors ac-cording to the gravity of her guilt and in conformity with the constitutions. 2385 151. A religious fugitive automatically incurs the priva-tion of any office she holds in the institute. When she re-turns, the higher superior shall inflict punishments in proportion to the gravity of her guilt. 2386 § 2. Departure at the Expiration of Temporary Profession 152. Tl~e mother general47 with the advice of her council, for just and reasonable motives, may exclude a religious from renewing the temporary vows or from mak-ing profession of perpetual.vows; not, however, because of ill health, unless it is proved with certainty that it was fraudulently concealed or dissimulated before profession. Religious who have made profession of temporary vows may freely leave the congregation when the term of vows has expired. 637; 575, § 1 § 3. Exclaustration and Secularization 153. An indult to remain outside the congregation temporarily, that is, an indult of exclaustration, may be ~r Canon 637 leaves to the constitutions the determination of the superior competent for exclusion. The constitutions usually assign this right to the superior general with the consultative vote of her council, but a few demand the deliberative vote. A small number of constitutions give this power to the provincial or higher superio~:s either alone or with the consultative or, less frcquently~ the delibera-tive vote of the council. See REVIEW fOR RELIGIOUS, 16 (1957), 216. ÷ ÷ ÷ Constitutions V01.1JME 25, 1966 ~. F. Gallen, S.]. REVIEW-FOR RELIGIOUS 3911 granted only by the Apostolic See (diocesan congregation: is granted by the ordi~ahry oi the diocese where the sister ' is staying). Anyone who has obtained this indult remains bound by her vows and the other obligations of her pro-fession compatible with her state; but she must put of[ the religious habit. During the time of the indult she lacks active and passive voice but enjoys the spiritual privileges of her institute. She is subject to the ordinary of the diocese in which she resides, and this even by virtue of her vow of obedience, in the place, of the superiors of her own institute. 638-9 154. An indult to remain outside the congregation perpetually, that is, an indult of secularization, or a dis-pensation from the vows, may be granted only by the Apostolic See (diocesan congregation: is granted by the ordinary of the diocese where the sister is staying). There-fore, if a sister of perpetual, vows, or of temporary vows during the term of these vows, wishes of her own accord to leave the congregation, an indult of secularization must be obtained from the Holy See (diocesan congregation: local ordinary). A secularized religious is no longer a member of her congregation. She must put off the religious habit, is freed of her vows, and is not bound by the other rules and the constitutions. If she is again received into the congregation, in virtue of an apostolic indult, she must make a new noviceship and profession, and her rank among the professed mem-bers is computed from the day of her new profession. 638; 640 § 4. Dismissal by Decree of a Professed of Temporary Vows 155. (Pontifical) A sister of temporary vows may dur-ing the term of her temporary profession be dismissed by the mother general with the consent of her council ex-pressed by secret ballot. 647, § 1 (Diocesan) A sister of temporary vows may during the term of her temporary profession be dismissed by the or-dinary of the place where the religious house to which she is assigned is situated. The ordinary may not use this right without the knowledge or contrary to the just op-position of the mother general. An application for dis-missal must be presented by the mother general with the consent of her council. 647, § I 156. The (diocesan .congregation: local ordinary land the) mother general and the members of her council are bound by a grave obligation in conscience to observe the following: a) The reasons for the dismissal must be serious. b) They may be .on the part of either the congregation c) d) or the sister. The absence of the religious spirit which is a cause of scandal to others is a sufficient motive for dismissal when at least two admonitions given in writing or in the presence of at least two witnesses, with a threat of dismissal joined with a salutary penance, have produced no effect. Ill health is not a sufficient motive unless it is proved with certainty that it was fraudulently concealed or dis-simulated before profession. Although the reasons must be known with certainty by the mother general and her council (diocesan congregation: local ordinary), it is not necessary that they be proved by a formal trial; but they .must al-ways be manifested to the sister, :and she must be given full liberty to answer the charges. Her answers must be faithfully submitted to the.mother general and her council (local ordinary). The sister has the right to appeal to the Holy See against the decree of dismissal and if she makes this appeal within ten days from the date on which she was informed of her dismissal, the decree has no juridical effect while the recourse is pending. 647, § 5. Dismissal by Decree oI a Pro[essed o[ Perpetual Vows 157. The dismissal of a sister of perpetu, al vows is re-served to the Holy See (diocesan congregation: local ordi-nary). 652, §§ 1, 3 158. For such a dismissal, serious external reasons are required, together with incorrigibility, after attempts at correction have been previously made without success, so that in the judgment of the mother general and her coun-cil there is no hope of amendment. The efforts at correc,- tion shall include not only the admonitions, as above, but. also a-change of employment, transfer to another house, and other suitable means if judged expedient for a reform of conduct. 651, § 1 159. The reasons for dismissal must always be mani-fested to the sister, and she must be given full liberty to answer the charges. Her replies must be faithfully re-ported in the acts. 651, § 2; 650, § 3 160. If by the consent of the council expressed in secret ballot .the sister has been found incorrigible and her dis-missal approved, the mother general shall transmit the whole matter with all the relevant acts and documents to the Sacred Congregation of Religious (diocesan congrega-tion: ordinary of the diocese where the religious house to which the sister is assigned is situated). 652, §§ 1, 3 (Added article in diocesan congregation) The sister has the right to appeal to the Holy See against the decree of dismissal; and if she makes this appeal within ten days ÷ ÷ ÷ Constitutions VOLUME 25, 1966 393 from the date on which she was informed of her dismissal, the decree of dismissal has no juridical effect while the recourse is pending. 647, § 2, 4° ]. F. Gallen,. S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 394 In institutes of brothers the preceding articles on the dismissal of a professed of perpetual vows will be replaced by the following. 1. A brother of perpetual vows may not be dismissed except after three serious external crimes against the common law or the constitutions, two admonitions, and the failure to amend. 649; 656 2. There must be at least three crimes of the same species or, if of. different specieg, of such a nature as to manifest, when viewed collectively, a will obstinate in evil, or one continued crime that, after 'repeated admoni-tions, becomes virtually three. 657 3. An admonition may not be given unless the crime is notorious or certain from the extrajudicial confession of the defendant or from other sufficient proofs obtained in a prelimiiaary investigation. 658, § 1 4. The admonition is to be given by the immediate higher superior personally or by another acting on the former's mandate. A superior is not to give this mandate unless he has obtained information of the facts according to the norm of the preceding article. A mandate given for the first admonition is valid also for the second. 659 5. There must be two admonitions, one for each of the first two crimes; but in the case of continuous or per-manent crimes, an interval of at least three whole days must elapse between the first and second admonition. 660 6. The superior shall add opportune exhortations and corrections to the admonitions, also imposing penances and other penal remedies that he judges apt to effect the amendment of the erring member and to repair the scan-dal. The superior is likewise obliged to remove the of-fender from the occasions of relapse and even to transfer him, if necessary, to another house where ~npervision would~be easier and occasions of relapse more remote. A threat of dismissal must be added to each admonition. 661 7. The brother is considered as not having amended if he commits a new crime or perseveres in the same continuous crime after the second admonition. At least six days must elapse after the last admonition before any ~further steps are taken. 662 8. The reasons for dismissal must always be manifested to the brother, and he must be given full liberty to answer the charges. His reply must be faithfully 'reported in the acts. 650, § 3 9. (Pontifical) The brother general and his council shrill study all aspects of th~ matter and consider whether the case is one of dismissal. If a majority of the votes favor dismissal, the brother general shall issue the decree of dismissal, which is not effective unless confirmed by the Apostolic See. 650, §§ 1-2, 2° I0. (Diocesan) The brother general and his council shall study all aspects of the matter and consider whether the case is one of dismissal. If a majority of the votes favor dismissal, the brother general shall forward the entire matter to the ordinary of the place where the re-ligious house of the defendant is located. The decision on the dismissal appertains to the prudent judgment of the ordinary. 650, §§ 1-2, 1 ° (Added article in diocesan congregation) The brother has the right to appeal to the Holy See against the decree of dismissal; and if he makes this appeal within ten days from the date on which he was informed of his dismissal, the decree of dismissal has no juridical effect while the recourse is pending. 647, § 2, 4°; 650, § 2, 1 ° § 6. Automatic Dismissal of a Professed of Perpetual or Temporary Vows 161. The following are automatically dismissed: a) Religious who have publicly apostatized from the Catholic faith. b) A religious woman who has run away with a man. c) Religious who attempt or contract marriage, even the so-called civil marriage. In these cases, it is sufficient that the mother general (provincial congregation: higher superior) with the ad-vice of her council make a written declaration of the fact, but she is to take care that the collected proofs of the fact are preserved in the files of the 'congregation. 646 § 7. Provisional Return of a Professed of Perpetual or Temporary Vows to Secular Life 162. In the case of grave external scandal or of very serious imminent injury to the community, any professed sister may be immediately sent back to secular life by the mother general (provincial congregation: higher superior) with the consent of her council or even, if there is danger in delay and time does not permit recourse to the mother general (higher superior), by the local superior with the consentof her council and that of the local ordinary. The sister must ifiamediately put off the religious habit. The local ordinary or the mother general (higher superior), if she is present, must without delay submit the matter to the judgment of the Holy See. 653 VOLUME 25, 1966 395 § 8. Effects oI Dismissal 163. A sister who has been canonically dismissed ac-cording to articles 155-61 'is by that very fact freed from all her religious vows. 648; 669, § 1 § 9. Charitable Subsidy 164. If. any professed sister who leaves or is dismissed was received without a dowry or with an insufficient dowry and cannot provide for herself out of her own re-sources, the congregation is obliged in charity to give her what is necessary to return safely and becomingly to her home, and to provide her, according to natural equity, for a certain period with the means of a respectable liveli-hood. This is to be determined by mutual consent or, in the case of disagreement, by the local ordinary of the former religious,as 643, § 2; 647, § 2, 5°; 652, § 3 (In a congregation that does not impose a dowry) If any professed sister who leaves or is dismissed cannot provide for herself out of her own resources, the congregation . PART II GOVERNMENT CHAPTER XX REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS SUPREME AUTHORITY 165. All the sisters are subject to the Roman pontiff as their highest superior, whom they are bound to obey also in virtue of their vow of obedience. 499, § 1; 218 166. (Pontifical)They are likewise, according to the norm of the ~acred canons, under the jurisdiction of the locaFordinaries. The sisters shall manifest the most pro-found respect for the ordinaries. 500, § 1; 618-20 (Diocesan) The local ordinaries exercise complete au-thority over the houses and sisters within their dioceses in accordance with the sacred canons. The sisters shall mani-fest the most profound respect for the ordinaries. 492, § 2 167. Supreme internal authority is exercised ordinarily by the mother gefieral assisted by her council and extraor-dinaril~ by the legitimately assembled general chapter. 501, § 1; 502 ~ A similar article is often found in the constitutions of brothers, for example: "Brothers who leave the institute shall be given the money necessary to enable them to return home, unless they have sufficient money from other sources." Constitutions frequently also contain 'an :article of the following type: "Superiors must observe justice, charity, and prudence in dismissing a sister. They shall do all in their power to safeguard the reputation of a sister who is leav-ing or is dismissed, and they shall act with such motherly kindness that the sister will depart well disposed toward the congregation." CHAPTER XXI GENERAL CHAPTER § 1. Convocation and Members 168. The general chapter must be convoked as often as general elections are necessary. The ordinary convocation takes place every sixth year at the expiration of the term of office of the mother general and on her death~, resigna-tion, or deposition. 162; 161; 178;'34, § 3, 5° 169. (Pontifical) To convoke the chapter for any reason other than those specified above, the permission of the Holy See is required in addition to the consent of the gen-eral council. (Diocesan) To convoke the chapter for any reason other than those specified above, the mother general must have the consent of her council. 170. The chapter must be convoked by the mother gen-eral six (three) months before the day fixed for its assem-bly. In the letter of convocation, the date and place of the chapter shall be designated, and the prayers to be said for the success of the chapter shall be prescribed. The place for the ~ssembly of the chapter shall be determined by the mother general with the consent of her council. 171. Before the convocation the mother general must inform the ordinary of the diocese in which the chapter will convene of the date of the election of the mother gen-eral, that he may preside either personally or by delegate at this election. 506, § 4 172. The meeting of the chapter may be anticipated or deferred for an important reason, but not more than three (six) months in either case. 161; 178 173. In the event of the death, resignation, or deposi-tion of the mother general, the chapter must be convoked by the mother vicar as soon as possible, so that the assem-bly of the chapter will not be postponed more than six (three) months after the vacancy of the office. 162; 161; 178 174. The members of the chapter are: a) The mother general b) The four general councilors c) The secretary general d) The treasurer general e) (The procurator general) t') Former mothers general g) The mothers provincial h) __ delegates elected by each province49 + Constitutions,~ ~OThe elected delegates from a province are almost universally VOLUME 25, 1966 two, most rarely three or four. See REVmW FOR RELIGIOUS, 24 (1965), 132-3. 397 J. F. Gallen, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 398 or g) The regional superiors5° h) The delegates elected by (the regions and) houses according to article(s) -- or g) The local superiors of houses in which at least twelve sisters habitually reside51 h) One delegate elected by the sisters of each of these larger houses52 i) Two delegates elected by each group of smaller houses or g) The ___ delegates elected from the houses~ The mother general, general councilors, secretary gen-eral, treasurer general, (and procurator general), continue as members of the assembled chapter even though at the elections other sisters have succeeded them in office. 164-8 175. The mother general with the consent of her coun-cil may summon other sisters to assist in the clerical and similar work of the chapter. She may in the same manner invite such sisters and externs to present and discuss questions with the chapter. None of these are permitted to vote, and all such sisters have the same obligation to secrecy as the capitulars. 165 176. The chapter elects the mother general, general councilors, secretary general, treasurer general, (and pro-curator general) and treats of the more important affairs that concern the entire congregation.~4 § 2. General Norms to Be Observed in Elections 177. The tellers elected for the general chapter must take an'oath to perform their duty faithfully and to keep secret the proceedings of the chapter even after the elec-tions are completed. All the capitulars are likewise bound to secrecy. The places of the tellers and secretary shall be near the president. 171, § 1 178. The tellers are to take care that the ballots are cast by each elector secretly, individually, and in order of prec- ~ Regional superiors may be made ex officio members of the gen-eral chapter. See REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, ibid., p. 132. ~ Twelve is the common norm for a larger house; twenty-three the highest usually in the present practice of the Holy See for the group-ing of smaller houses, but many other limits have been approved. See REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, ibid., p. 135. ~ Added delegates have been admitted for larger houses. See RE-VIEW fOR RELIGIOUS, ibid., pp. 135-6. ¯ s This illustrates the usual way of expressing a group system in this article. ra The procurator general in pontifical institutes of men is ordi-narily elected in the general chapter and is an ex officio member of this chapter. The Holy See in its present practice demands that both the secretary general and treasurer general be given ex officio mem-bership in the general chapter and that the treasurer general be elected by the general chapter. Election is also preferred in the case of the secretary general, but it is permitted that the secretary be ap-pointed by the mother general with the consent of her council. edence. The secretary draws up accurately the proceedings o[ the chapter, which shall be signed by the president, the tellers, and the secretary herself. These are to be preserved in the archives of the congregation. 171, §§ 2, 5 179. Two-thirds ol~ the capitulars must be present for the validity of the acts of the general (and provincial) chapter, but all must be convoked. 162-3 180. Even though a sister may have the right to vote in her own name under several titles, she may nevertheless cast but one vote. 164 181. The capitulars must be present in person at the election. No one may validly vote by letter or proxy. If a capitular in the house where the election is being held cannot be present at the election because of illness, her written vote shall be collected by the tellers in a sealed envelo.pe. 163; 168 182. If a capitular believes that she cannot attend the general (or provincial) chapter on account of sickness or for some other serious reason, she is to inform the mother general (or mother provincial), who shall decide with the consent of her council whether the capitular should be excused and her substitute snmmoned. 183. All the sisters, whether capitulars or not, are for-bidden to procure votes directly or indirectly for them-selves or others. Prudent consultations regarding the qual-ities of those eligibl~ is permitted within the bounds of justice and charity. 507, § 2 184. Each of the electors shall write on her ballc~t the name of the sister for whom she votes, fold the ballot, and drop it in the ballot box placed before the president. 185. When all the ballots have been cast, the tellers shall first count the folded ballots in the presence of the president and the electors to ascertain whether the num-ber of ballots corresponds to the number of electors. If the number of ballots exceeds the number of electors, the bal-loting is null and void. Otherwise they shall proceed to the inspection of the ballots. 171, §§ 2-3 186. The ballots are then opened and examined. They are read first by the junior teller, then by the president, and lastly by the senior teller who in an audible voice shall make known the name on each ballot. The votes must be recorded by the secretary. At the end of each bal-loting, the president must announce the names of all the sisters voted for and the number of votes given to each. 171, §§ 2, 5 187. No sister may validly vote for herself. A vote is also null and void: a) If given by one who is incapable of a human act or has by law been deprived of active voice; b) If it is not given freely. Consequently a vote is in-valid if an elector is forced directly or indirectly by Constitutions VOLUME 25, ~.966 ]. F. G~llen, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 400 ~' grave fear or fraud to elect a specified sister or one or the other among several specified sistei's; c) If it is not secret, certain, absolute, and determined; d) If it is blank or foran ineligible person. 167; 169-70 188. Eveh if one or more votes are null and void, the election' is valid provided the one elected received the number of valid votes required by ~he constitutions. 167, 189. Unless otherwise prescribed for a particular elec-tion, all elections shall be decided by an absolute majority of secret votes, that is, a number which exceeds half the number of valid votes cast; but if after two ballotings no one has received an absolute majority, a third and last balloting shall be held, in which a relative majority de-cides. In an equality of votes among several candidates in this third balloting, the~ senior by first profession is elected; if the sisters made their first profession on the same day, the seni0r.by age is elect6d. This same norm shall re-solve an equality of Votes on the only, limiting, or decisive balloting of any election. 17~; 101, § 1, 1° 190. After the required number of votes has been ob-tained, the president shall declare the election legiti-nlately made and announce the name of the sister elected. This proclamation of the newly elected mother general tei:minates the duties of the presiding local ordinary. 174 ¯ 191. All sisters are obliged to accept any office to which they have been elected.55 175-6 192. 'The ballots must be burned by the tellers after each session. 171, § 4 193. If a sister elected as mother general or general offi-ci~ d is not present at the chapter, she is to be summoned immediately; but the sessions of the chapter are suspended only in the former case. 194. The office of the mother general and of the elected general officials always terminates at the election of their successors. § 3. Election o[ Delegates~ 195. From the date of. the letter of convocation until the completion 'of the election of delegates, no vocal shall be transferred from one house to another. Neither shall local superiors be changed. If their term of office expires after the date of convocation, it is extended without fur-. ther formal' confirmation until after the general (provin-cial) chapter. 196. All professed sisters, including those of temporary vows, have active voice in the election of delegates. Only r= Many but not all constitutions approved by the Holy See con-tain this article. ~To th~ general chapter or, if there are provinces, to the pro-vindal chapter. sisters of perpetual vows have both active and passive voice. 578, 3° 197. The election of delegates shall be made according to the norm of article 189'and shall take place on the day specified in the letter of convocation, in local chapter, in the houses where at least twelve professed sisters habit-ually reside. Every such house shall elect one delegate.57 198. After the election of the delegate, they shall also, by separate balloting and according to the same norm, elect two sisters as substitutes, who in the order of their election' shall replace either the local superior or the elected delegate, if for any reason these should be pre-vented from attending the general (provincial) chapter. 199. The local superior presides at the elections and is assisted by the two junior sisters of perpetual vows as tellers. The younger of these shall also act as secretary. The duties of these sisters are the same as those of the tellers and secretary of the general chapter. 200. When the elections are completed, the secretary shall write two reports of the proceedings, which must be signed by the presiding local superior and the two tellers. One copy is to be sent immediately to the mother general (provincial); the other is to be preserved in the files of the house. 201. The smaller houses, in which fewer than twelve professedsisters habitually reside, shall be formed into groups by the mother general (provincial) with the con-sent of her council, so that each group shall comprise at least twelve and not more than twenty-three professed sis-ters. 5s 202. In each of these houses, on the day determined in the letter of convocation, the voters shall assemble under the direction of their local superior and shall elect by se-cret ballot two delegates belonging to their group, one of whom must be a local superior, the other a sister who is not a local superior. 203. The local superior shall collect all the ballots with-out inspecting them and enclose them with her own vote in an envelope, which she shall seal in the presence of the electors. She shall inscribe upon this inner envelope: "The election of the delegates of group N., house N.," and for-ward it immediately to the mother general (provincial). 204. The mother general (provincial) with her council shall open these envelopes and count the votes. The secre-tary general (provincial) shall record the votes. The sisters who received a relative majority are elected. The substi-tute of the superior will be that superior who received the highest number of votes after the superior elected; the See footnote 52, ~SSee footnote 51. Constitutions VOLUME 25, 1966 substitute of the other delegate will be the sister, not a superior, who received the greatest number of votes after this delegate. The mother general (provincial) shall im-mediately inform the congregation (province) of the re-sults. 174; 101, §1, 1° 205. (Provincial congregation) Houses immediately sub-ject to the mother general elect two delegates, superiors or subjects, to the general chapter. The voting is carried out and the votes forwarded to the mother general accord-ing to the norms of articles 202-4. The substitutes are the sisters who in order received the next highest number of votes.~9 ]. F. Gailen, $~J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 402 Group and List System of Articles 1. From the date of the letter of convocation, local su-periors shall not be changed. If their term of office expires after this date, it is extended without further formal con-firmation until after the general (provincial) chapter. 2. The mother general (prov.incial) with the consent of her council shall divide the sisters of perpetual vows into seven equal groups according to precedence so that each group will have the same gradation of older and younger sisters, superiors as well as subjects. Sisters who are mem-bers of the general (provincial) chapter in virtue of any .office are not eligible as delegates. 3. In each house on the day determined in the letter of convocation, the sisters shall assemble under the direc-tion of their local superior. Each shall elect by secret ballot from prepared lists three delegates belonging to their group (of each group), one of whom must be a local superior, the others, sisters who are not local superiors. (Other forms are, for example: a) From a prepared list containing the names of all local superiors then in of-rice, each sister shall vote for ten delegates. On a second ballot, each sister shall vote for twenty delegates who are neither local superiors nor members of the general (provincial) chapter in virtue of any office. b) Each sister shall vote for thirty de!egates, whether local superiors or subjects, and in any proportion.6°) 4. The local superior shall collect all the ballots with-out inspecting them and enclose them with her own bal-lot in an envelope, which she shall seal in the presence of the electors. She shall write on this inner envelope, "Elec-tion of delegates, house N.," and forward it immediately to the mother general (provincial). U This article is found only in some provincial institutes. The number of delegates from such houses varies~ See R~wEw FOR RE-LIGIOUS, 24 (1965), 133. ® These articles sufficiently illustrate the group and list systems. For others, see REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, ibid., pp. 131-42. 5. As soon as possible after all [he envelopes have been received, the mother general (provincial) with her council shall open the envelopes and count the votes. The secre-tary general (provincial) shall record the votes. The elec-tions are decided by a relative majority. The substitutes are the local superiors and sisters of each group who in or-der received the next highest number of votes. § 4. Provincial Chapter6t 1. Convocation and Members 206. The provincial chapter is to be convened as often as a general chapter is to be held and at least three months before the date of the assembly of the latter. This chap-ter is presided over by the 'mother provincial, and its prin-cipal purpose is to elect the delegates tO the general chap-ter. The mother provincial shall convoke the provincial chapter at least two months before its assembly. 162 207. The members of the chapter are: a) The mother provincial b) The four (two) provincial councilors c) The provincial secretary d) The provincial treasurer e) (. The delegates from the houses as stated in n. 174, g), h), i))~ 164-8. 2. Sessions 208. The chapter shall immediately elect from among the capitulars, by a relative majority of votes and on the one secret ballot, the two tellers and the secretary of the chapter. The tellers for this election shall be the two junior capitulars by first profession, and the secretary shall be the provincial secretary. 171, §§ 1, 5 209. The chapter shall then elect by separate and se-cret ballotings and according to the norm of article 189 two (three, four) delegates and two (three, four) ~ubsti-tutes to the general chapter. These must be sisters of per-petual vows. 210. After these elections, the chapter shall deliberate on matters that concern the spiritual and temporal wel-fare of the province. The same procedure shall be fol-lowed in deliberations as in the general chapter.63 m This section is obviously found only in the constitutions of in-stitutes divided into provinces. It is frequently placed in the chapters on provinces. o~ This article is ordinarily followed by articles 195 ft. on the elec-tion of delegates to the provincial chapter. : ~This power is contained only in relatively few constitutions. A great.er number grant the power stated in a. 212 to deliberate on pro-posals to the general chapter. + + + Constitutions VOLUME 25, 1966 4O3 ~. F. ~ Gallen, S.l.~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 211. Enactments of the provincial, chapter have no force until they are approved by the mother general with the consent of her council. They are ,then promulgated to the province by the mother provincial. 212. The chapter shall finally deliberate on the pro-posals to be made to the general chapter by the province. 213. The secretary shall draw up the complete pro-ceedings of the chapter according to the norm of article 178. One copy is to be' sent immediately to the mother general and a second copy is to be preserved in the ar-chives of the province. The mother provincial shall imme-diately publish the elections to the province. § 5. Preliminary Sessions 214. The chapter immediately elects from among the capitulars, by a relative majority of votes and on the one secret ballot, the two tellers and the secretary of the chap-ter. The tellers for this preliminary election shall be the two capitulars youngest by first profession, and the secre-tary general shall be the secretary.64 171, §§ 1, 5 215. The chapter shall then elect by a relative majority of secret votes and by one secret ballot a committee of three capitulars who had no part in preparing or approv-ing the reports of the mother general. This committee is to examine the reports thoroughly and give its observa-tions to the chapter before the election of the mother gen-eral. 216. The mother general presents to the chapter two distinct and complete reports: one of the persons, discip-line, and works; the other on the material and financial condition of the congregation since':the last chapter. Both reports must have beenlapproved and signed by the gen-eral councilors before the opening of the chapter. The fi-nancial report must have been prepared and also signed by th~ treasurer general. Copies of the report should be distributed to the capitulars before the opening session.6~ § 6. Election o[ the Mother General 217. The day before the election of the mother general shall be spent in retreat by the captiulars, and permission shall be requested for exposition of the Blessed Sacra-ment. 66 1274, § 1 218. On the day of the election of the mother general, Mass shall be offered in the house where the chapter is held to invoke the b!essing of God on the work of the o, See REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 23 (1964), 139-40, on the various ways of electing the 'tellers and secretary. en Many institutes in fact.distribute copies but do not mention this in their constitutions. eOThis article is found in a few constitutions. The length of the retreat varies, for example, one, at least one, three days. chapter. All the capitulars are urged, to receive Holy Com-munion for the same intention. I1 the rubrics permit, the Mass shall be the votive Mass of the Holy Spirit. 595, § 4 219. To be elected validly to the ot~ice of mother gen-eral, a sister must have been professed for at least ten years in the congregation computed from her first profes-sion; be of legitimate birth; and have completed her fortieth year. 504 220. The mother general is elected for six years. She may be elected for a second but not for a third consecu-tive term. 505; 34; § 3, 5*. (Institutes of brothers) Before the election of the brother general, each and every capitular shall promise by oath to elect the one who, before God, he judges should be chosen. 506, § 1 221. The mother general is elected by an absolute ma-jority of secret votes. If three ballotings fail to produce this majority, a fourth and last balloting shall be held. In this balloting the electors shall vote for one of the two sisters who had the highest number of votes in the third balloting, but these two sisters themselves shall not vote. If more than two would be eligible by reason of an equal-ity of votes in the third balloting, the norm of article 189 shall limit the candidates to two. Of these two, the sister who receives the greater number of votes in this fourth balloting is elected. 174; 101, § 1, 1° (Diocesan congregation of women) The local ordinary has full power to confirm or rescind the election of the mother general according to his conscience. 506, § 4; 177, 222. The president shall proclaim the newly elected mother general. This act terminates the duties of the pre-siding local ordinary. 174 § 7. Election of the General Officials 223. After the election of the mother general and after she has taken the oath according to article 177, the chap-ter under her presidency shall elect the four general coun-cilors, the secretary general, and the treasurer general (and the procurator general). The elections are made by sep-arate ballotings and according to the norm of article 189. The first councilor elected shall also be the mother as-sistant: and mother vicar,e7 516, §§ 1-3; 506, § 4; 171, § 1 224, To be elected a general councilor or official a sis-ter must have completed her thirty-fifth year and have made perpetual profession. Any one of the councilors ex- ¯ r One or two institutes require a distinct election for the designa-tion of the mother assistant from among the elected councilors. A very small number of institutes elect an admonitrix of the mother general, who is at least ordinarily one of the councilors. ÷ ÷ ÷ Constitutions VOLUME 25, 1966 405 cept the first may be elected as secretary general or treas-urer general. These two officials should possess the special-ized competence required for their offices. The mother general may appoint one or more assistant secretaries and treasurers.0s (Appointment articles) The secretary general and the treasurer general are not elected by the chapter but ap-pointed (for a term of three years) by the' mother general with the consent of her council. Both may be general councilors but neither may be the first councilor. They must possess the specialized competence required for their office. Both must reside in the motherhouse. The mother general may appoint one or more assistant secretaries and treasurers. The secretary general is not elected by the chapter but appointed (for a term of three years) by the mother gen-eral with the consent of her council. She may be a general councilor but not the first. She must possess the specialized competence required by her office. She must reside in the motherhouse. The mother general may appoint one or more assistant secretaries and treasurers.60 § 8. Chapter of Affairs 225. After the elections, the chapter shall treat of the more important affairs that concern the entire congrega-tion. The ordinances of the chapter may not be contrary to canon law or the constitutions. 226. All matters are decided by an absolute majority of secret votes. If the votes are equal, the mother general has the right of deciding the matter after the third balloting. 101, § l, 1o (or) All matters are decided by an absolute majority. If the votes are equal, the mother general has the right of deciding the matter after the third balloting. The voting is public. Any capitular has the right of requesting a se-cret vote on a particular matter. Such a request shall be put to the public vote of the chapter. If a majority favor the request, the voting on the particular matter shall be secret. 101, § 1, 1° 227. (The provincial chapters~ and) All sisters of per-petual vows may submit written proposals to the general chapter either directly or through a capitular. These must be forwarded to "the mother general at least a month be-fore the opening of the chapter. The capitulars retain the right of making.proposals thereafter and during the ses- 1. F. Gallen, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 406 ~ Some constitutions impose limitations on the reelection of gen-eral officials. See REVIEW fOR RELIGaOUS, 23 (1964), 229--31. Some for-bid two relatives in the first or second degree to be members of the general council at the same time. ~ See also footnote 54. sions up to a definite time determined by the chapter, after which no proposals may be submitted.TM 228. At a suitable time before the general chapter ~le-termined by the mother general, one or several commit-tees of three or more capitulars, appointed by the mother general with the consent of her council, shall examine and arrange the pi'oposals and prepare a report on them for the chapter. 229. The chapter is not obliged to deliberate on every matter proposed. It may simply exclude anything that ap-pears useless or inopportune, or it may remit a matter to the study and decision ol~ the mother general and her council after the close of the chapter. 230. The principal affairs are: a) Suitable means of restoring or perfecting religious discipline. b) Proposals submitted to the chapter. c) Determination of the contribution that each house must make to the general treasury. (or) Determination of the contribution that each house must make to the provincial treasury, and each province to the general treasury. d) Extraordinary expenditures which the mother gen-eral (provincial, regional), and local superiors may authorize or make alone, those that demand the ad-vice or consent o[ their councils, and those for which local superiors must recur to the (provincial, regional superiors and either o~ these to the) mother general. e) Norms to be observed in addition to the prescrip-tions o~ the sacred canons in alienations, purchases, the assuming of obligations, and other matters of a financial nature. f) Determination of the dowry. g) Confirmation, modification, or abrogation ~of ordi-nances of previous general chapters. h) (In provincial congregations) Establishment of new provinces or the suppression o~ existing ones; the uniting of provinces or the modification of their boundaries. i) Determination o~ more important.matters [or which the advice or consent ~ff the general (provincial, re-gional,) or local councils is necessary. 231. The enactments of the chapter remain in force permanently unless amended or abrogated by subsequent chapters. (or) The enactments of the chapter remain in force 7o Very many constitutions are indefinite on the right of submit-ting proposals. + + + Constitutions VOLUME 25t 1966 407 J. F. Gallen, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS until the next chapter, in which they may be confirmed, modified, or abrogated. ~232, ~The chapter may not be protracted beyond a reasonable length, of time. The mother general shall pub-lish the elections, ordinances, and other acts which the capitulars have determined should be published.71 CHAPTER XXlI MOTHER GENERAL 233. (Pontifical) The mother general governs and a~l-ministers the entire congregation according to the sacred canons and these constitutions. Her residence shall be at the motherhouse and may not be permanently transferred without the consent of the general council and the ~oer-mission o[ the Holy See. 501, § 1,502 (Diocesan) The mother general governs and adminis-ters the entire congregation according to the sacred can-otis and these constituti6ns. Her residence shall be at the motherhouse and may not be permanently transferred without the consent of the general council and the per-mission of the ordinary of the prdsent and proposed places of residence. 501, § l; 502 234. The office of mother general is incompatible with thato[ local superior, even in the motherhouse, or with that of any other official. 516, § 3 235. The mother general has authority over all the (provinces, regions,)houses and members. With the de-liberative vote of her council, she may place certain houses and works under her immediate authority and may also transfer these to a province. 501, § l; 502 236. A serious reason and the deliberative vote of her council are iequired for the mother general (a higher or regional superior) to transfer or remo~ce a superior or of-ficial before the expiration of a prescribed term of office. Unless otherwise specified, offiCials may be reappointed indefinitely. With the consent of her council, the mother general may prolong the term of office 6f (provincial, re-gional, and) local superiors when this is necessary, but only for a short time. 560 237. The mother general has the right to transfer the n Other articles found frequently in this chapter arc on prayers to be said on a prescribed number of days in all houses before the election of the mother general, verification of credentials, ~ prayers for. opening and closing the sessions, distribution of lists of those eligible for the office of mother general and general official, resigna-tion of mother general before the election to this office, symbolic presentation of seal of congregation and/or keys of house to local ordinary by the retiring mother general, priests accompanying the local ordinary may take no part in the election, formula of proclama-tion of the mother general, closing ceremony of her election, and in-forming the local ordinaries of the dioceses in which the congrega-tion has houses of the election of the mother general. sisters from one house to another and to assign their du-ties. 501, § 1; 502 (Provincial congregation)Only the mother gener.al with the advice of her council and ordinarily after con-sulting the interested provincials may transfer a sister from one province to another.501, § 1; 502 238. She shall prudently super~,ise the administration of the temporal goods of the congregation and of each (province, region, and) house in accordance with the pre-scriptions of canon law and of these constitutions. 516,.§ 2 239. Every five years, in the year determin.ed by the Sacred Congregation of Religious, the mother general shall send to the Holy See (diocesan: through the ordinary of her residence) a report of the persons, discipline, and the material and financial condition of the congregation. This report must be compiled according to the instruc-tions of the Sacred Congregation and is to be signed by the mother general, her councilors, (pontifical) and the ordinary of the residence of the mother general. 510 240. The mother general may not appoint a vicar and delegate powers to her, nor may she grant a sister active or passive voice or deprive her of it. 241. If it should ever seem necessary to remove, the mother general from office, the general council must sub-mit the matter to the Sacred Congregation of Religious (diocesan: the ordinary of the residence of the mother gen-eral). If the mother general thinks it her duty tg~ r, esign her office, she shall in writing make known her reasons to the same Congregation (diocesan: same ordinary). 183- 9272 CHAPTER XXIII CANONICAL VISITATION 242. The mother general shall make the visitation of the entire congregation at least every three years (at least once during her term of office). She shall see that the houses immediately subject to her are visited every year. The mother provincial shall make the visitation of all the houses of her province once a year, and the same fre- 7~ Other articles found frequently in this chapter are on the man-her of government of the mother general; manner of dealing with subjects; that she is to have an especial care for the spiritual welfare and progress of all (provinces) houses, and individuals; to exercise vigilance for the careful observance of the vows, constitutions, cus-toms, and distinctive virtues of the congregation; especially supervise the formation of the postulants, novices, and junior professed; is to endeavor to learn the aptitudes of the sisters; that she is to keep in close contact with her councilors, and (provincial, regional, and) local superiors; that she is to guard against the influence of personal af-fection and aversion; her duty of example; of correction of others; and the duty of all to pray for the mother general. + + 4- Constitutions ~ ~., VOLUME 25, 1966 ~ 409 J. F. Gallen, $.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 410 quency of visitation of ~a region shall be observed by the regional superior. . Both may omit this visitation in the year of the visita-tion by the mother general. Should the higher or regional s~perior be lawfully prevented from making the visita-tion, another sister is to be delegated for this purpose.73 511 243. The mother general may designate a visitor for an individual (province or) house or for a particular matter; (the mother provincial and regional superior may do the same for an individual house or a particular matter;) but to appoint a visitor for the entire congregation (in the case of a provincial or regional superior, for the entire province or region), the consent Of the pertinent council must be obtained. The visitor must be a sister of perpetual vows. 511 244. The purpose of the visitation is to strengthen union and charity, to inquire into the government and administration of the (province, region, and) house as also into the observance of the constitutions and customs, to correct prevalent abuses, and to give occasion to each sis-ter to speak freely on matters that concern her personal welfare or the general good. The (provincial, regional, and) local superiors retain the usual exercise of their of-rice during the visitation. 245. The visitor has the right and duty to question the sisters and to obtain information on matters that pertain to the Visitation. All the sisters are obliged to reply truth-fully to the visitor. Superiors have no right to divert them in any manner whatever from this obligation or otherwise hinder the purpose of the visitation. 513 246. Superiors as well as subjects who personally or through others, directly or indirectly, have induced sisters not to reply to the questions of the visitor, or to dissimu-late in any way, or not sincerely to expose~ the truth, or who under any pretext whatever have molested others be-cause of answers given to the visitor, shall be declared in-capable of holding any office that involves the government of other religious, and if they are superiors the9 shall be deprived of their office. 2413, §

Issue 45.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1986. ; Vocation Ministry A Sociological View of Commitment Religious and Secular Institutes Imagination Within the Act of Faith Volume 46 Number 2 March/April, 1986 REvIEw FOR REI,IGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at'Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REVIEW EOt~ REI.IGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, M O © 1986 by REVIEW FOR RELtGIOOS. Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $ I 1.00 a year; $20.00 for two years. Other countries: add $4.00 per year (postage). Airmail (Book Rate) $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor March/April, 1986 Volume 46 Number 2 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGtOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of p~int~ issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major po~on 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. The Vowed Life in a Secularized World Desmond O'Donnell, O M.I. Father O'Donnell's earlier "Focused Freedom: To Someone in Formation"appeared in the issue of January/February, 1985. He is a General Councillor for his community and, though often on the road, may be addressed at its Generalate: Oblati di Maria; C.P. 9061; 00100 Roma Aurelia, Italy. ouring out a plethora of easy answers to complex questions does not bring us any closer to permanent solutions. Neither is it helpful to offer a new one-word solution for everything taking place in the Church at this time. And yet secularization might be a useful umbrella-word ~,to explain much, of what is taking place both, to the Church and to the vowed life today. If it is in fact found to be a satisfactory seminal term, it will also help us to focus rather than to diffuse our response. It can aid the process of discernment. Situating the Question The good news about our way of life is that a deep spiritual renewal is being experienced by many and that the importance of prayer is being rediscovered. There has been a notable updating in theology and real--if not always successful--attempts to build authentic faith-communities. There also is a growing freedom and practice of discernment about our apostolates and about our private lives as well. There is other news which does not' seem so obviously good, such as the large numbers who left us, the small numbers joining and the increasing median age. In some places, community life is moving towards becoming politely-shared space, enclosing many unspoken polarizations about deep realities among us. Authority has tended to go from heavy-handedness to 161 "i69/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 ¯ laissez-faire and so consensus about anything of serious communal signifi-cance is often hard to come by. Governments gradually move in to take over our institutions, either because we have chosen to let them or because they have helped themselves. The degree to which all this is related to secularization is disputable, but related it is, and I will try to show why this is so. Before we go into this, may I look at some more personal experiences of vowed people in most countries today--experiences which I think are related to secularization even more deeply than those mentioned above. Many of us have been through more or less severe vocational question-ing of some kind in recent years, because the rationale of our way Of life did not seem capable of answering the questions popping up all around us. Maybe it was triggered off by simply seeing one of our now-married novitiate companions do equally good apostolic work and do it well. It may also have been that we grew tired of mobility, or just vaguely short of motivation for the continual questioning of our chosen lifestyle. Many of us have found some new difficulties in prayer, as God seemed to withdraw and leaqe the world to evil pebple. Or maybe the emergence of so many small friendship-groups has left us out in the cold called "com-munity life." The variety of new prayer-forms and so many seminars, have a way of increasing our desire for some stability and wondering if it might not be found elsewhere, In response to'all of this, many felt the growing ambiguities and endless updating led them to personal selectivity in belief and practice. Others moved to the edge~of the storm by choosing some form of fundamentalism or an atheism' which expressed itself in mere social horizontalism while still remaining in the ~3ongregation. Some of us chose to becom~ left-wing unloving critics of the present and others moved to become right-wing uncritical lovers of the past, as the middle ground grew unpopular and became such a solitary exprience. These deeper and more personal phenomena~ are related to modernization and secularization too, as I will try to demonstrate. And so the response to these experiences, might first be to understand the meaning of modernization and the resultihg secularization-experience. Modernization The amount of knowledge in the world continues to increase because of constant research and it is rapidly diffused through very efficient communicatioh systems. Modernization is what happens when the knowledge is~ transferred into technology, which then has ~increasing and unforeseeable effects on economic growth, on social systems and on political decisidns. Inevitably the individual too is affected in his or her The Vowed Life in a Secularized World / 165 values, attitudes, beliefs and behavior. Most of us remember the discovery of plastic 'in the 40s, of the transistor in the 50s, of computers in the 60s, of microcomputers in .the 70s and now we observe technology move forward into genetic engineering in the 80s. All of these have affected people and systems in serious and often irreversibl~e ways. This march of modernization shows no signs of slowing down and often appears to have its own~self-propelled, autonomous momentum. It took one hundred twelve years for photography to go from discovery to commercial product, fifty-six for the telephone, thirty-five for the radio, fifteen for radar, twelve for television and only five for transistors to find their way from the laboratory into the market. Again, as each of these products comes on the market, it touches--and in the case of genetic engineering, tampers with human nature and human systems in often lastingly significant ways, It is with the human effects of modernity that we are concerned and these are sometime.s good, sometimes evil, and often ambiguous. Moder-nity can lead to human community and comfort,-.or to pollution and poverty for millions; it can facilitate or disrupt human values; it can enrich °a poor country or steal its unrenewable sources of energy; it can help in the diffusion of truth or of lies through the media and it can pass on productive information or child,pornography. In each of our .lives it can .make the superfluous become the convenient, ~the convenient become the necessary and the necessary become the indispensable, thus changing human nature itself. ~ Peter Berger's definition summarizes, all this: "Modernization is the transformation of the world, brought about by the technological innova-tions of the last few centuries having economic, social and political dimen-sions all immense in scope." With many otherwriters he goes on to outline the many very,personal effects resulting from the economic, social, political ones in his definition, Secularization is a very significant one of these. Secularization It is important to stress that we are not talking here about secularism which is a theory, an ideology denying the existence of God or at least his action and relevance in the world. Nor is secularization .to be equated with atheism when in fact it might be the very opposite experience for many who are desperately trying to hold on toGod who seems to be withdrawing from them. And certainly it would be simplistic to think that secularization is the same as materialism, Secularization is claimed to.be more a fact than a theory, a reality more than an ideology, a process taking place more than.a point of view. While it "i64/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 can lead to secularism, materialism, or atheism, it is in fact none of these. Some religious people find words like secularism, materialism and atheism convenient labels for what is happening in the Church or in_the vowed life today and it may be a description in some cases, but it is not addressing the deeper and more pervasive reality we call secularization. Secularization manifests itself when explanations of reality previously attributed to mythical or religious sources, are shown to have .rational ones, as when the~scientist takes over from the witch doctor, the. psychologist assumes some previously priestly functions or when a technological discovo ery,disintegrates a theological theory. A group of Animists in Java lost their gods a few years ago when a new seismographic station began to foretell and explain volcanic eruptions more accurately than the local holy man, The Diak people of Borneo lost their fear of and their belief in their forest gods when bulldozers razed the jungle. For some people, the study of a good theology of providence could have a similar effect. These people are experiencing secularization. In a similar way, many modern Christians first felt uncomfortable and then felt their faith questioned by a good church-history book, an accurate TV documentary, a skilled psychiatrist, two men on the moon, an old law proven pointless, a church authority found unworthy, a symbol disappear-ing or a culture collapsing~-all more or less the result of modernization. The resulting discomfort and questioning within the individual person, is close to the secularization-experience. It is an experience of no longer having one overall reference-point--a feeling of increasing disintegration. If you are experiencing that somehow God is withdrawing because religious explanations are increasingly less necessary, that the quantum of the secular is increasing at the expense of the sacred, that maybe~ God is now less necessary as a postulate for human living or that because of modern evidence your longheld experience of God is no longer a comfort-able one, you are probably undergoing the pressure of the secularization-experience. This is not a decisionnor even a desire to become an atheist; even if it could lead to it. Nor is it necessarily the result of "giving in" to materialism or to less-than-moral behavior, admitting, of course, that both of these can easily increase its momentum. If you are not undergoing the experience of secularization, then it is still important to uiaderstand it, because most of the peopl~ you are trying to evangelize, especially in the developed world, are probably experiencing it. It is from this fact that the present great missiological question arises--how announce the Good News of Jesus Christ to a secularized world? Moderni-zation and its result in secularization are now recognized as cultures, new cultures, ever-changing cultures and it is at this point that we recognize the The Vowed l_Jfe in a Secularized World / 165 break between faith and culture today. Thus for the modern person, secularization is a feelin~ of dissonance in .trying to hold together what is happening in the world and what the Bible seems to say about God's providence or what is often said in churches and what is taking place in real life around us. It results in discomfort with one's present experience of God. Any naive belief in the immediacy of God will be challenged .by secularization and modernity. Old fashioned god-words and some ecclesiastical jargon will appear increasingly irrelevant to sincere secularized persons everywhere. Secularization can be defined as the grad-ual disappearance of mythical and religious legitimations or explanations of society. Living with the ambiguities of the secularization-experience leads to a temptation to take refuge in fundamentalism which can be described as believing more and more in less and less in order to feel secure, or in agnosticism which is a lazy neither-nor ~land excusing one from the strug-gles, doubts and decisions which are part of any faith. Let us now try to analyze the challenge and opportunity which secularization offers the vowed life. The Vowed Life For the vowed life, secularization can be a deep call and a deep grace. Lumen Gentium calls us to enrich, challenge, encourage and stimulate the Church by our lives and our action (Par. 44). This is all the more reason why we must study, understand and give a gospel response to seculariza-tion, to a secularized world. Because secularization implies change at so many levels of human existence, we should recall that sociologists stress the vital importance of internal consistency for all groups in time of change. This internal consis-tency- our basic authenticity measured against what we claim to be--is now a matter of survival. Institutions which lack internal consistency are likdy to disappear in tim~s of rapid change, especially if their external image is also unclear. For these reasons, we who profess the vowed life must address the phenomenon and the grace of secularization. May I suggest that there are five areas where God might well be speaking to us in all this? ~ansmitting a New Integrating Presence of God Secularization, as we saw, forces us to find a new presence of God, a presence which permeates, integrates, energizes for action and which brings human and divine values into secular realities. Karl Rahner spoke of the vowed woman as having a profession which has no justification from the "166 / Review for :Religious, March-April, 1986 secular point of view even if she performs many useful secular tasks. What then might her iprofession and that of vowed men be? It is surely--as it always was--to give or rather to share with people their own experience of God. This is a demanding task; it demands that we each have such an experience first of all. We will have to pass on "so.mething which we have seen with our own eyes, that we have watched and touched with our own .hands" (1 Jn l:l'b) and it will be vital that "in Christ we speak as men of sincerity, as envoys of God and in God's presence" (2 Co 2:17), It seems to be a call to discover and lead in a new integrating mysticism as this quote from John Macquarie expresses: ¯ It is interesting to note that Bonhoeffer, though he advocated a 'worldly' Christia°nity, made it 'perfectly explicit that the kind of w0rldline~ss that he had in mind has nothing to do with the immersion in"material pursuits and enjoyments that we commonly associate with the "worldly' man. Bon-hoeffer makes a :statement that ought to be'pondered by those who invoke his support for a thoroughly secularized Christianity. He says: 'In Christ we are offered the possibility of partaking in the reality'of God and in the reality of the world, but not in the one without the other The reality of God discloses itself only by setting me entirely in the reality of the world, and when I encounter the reality of the world, it is always already sus-tained: accepted and reconciled in the reality of God.' There is a dialectic here that takes us beyond any naive world affirmation, just as it rules out any false religiosity. God,is met in the world, but the world is known in its reality only as Grd's world? Back in 1970, Karl Rahner wrote: Maybe we [he was addressing his own Society] ourselves have been super-f! cialized by the consumer society. Maybe we ourselves have not come to any original experience of God. Maybe we have not taken .the .trouble to let others participate in the mystical technique leading.to such an expe-rience. If all that is the case, we have of course, no alternative but to take refuge in a secular horizontalism which tries to interpret and live our own lives on the same level . The coming thing is the spiritual dimension, the experience of God, the taste of eternity no matte~ how valid our social involvement (with ~regard to which we have a terrible'lot to make up). The coming thing is sober peace, in face of all the absurdity of existence, the absurdity which no social involvement will spirit away. That rather bour-geois- chequered spirituality which was found--to outward appearances at least--in the orders before the first world war and which influenced reli-gious life too much~ may belong to the past and the young may say rightly that it is useless.from the start. But a new spirituality in religious life and in the Church will be assured of a real future. Whatever form this new spirituality will have, it must surely~be a very 7he Vowed life in a Secularized Worm personal "faith in the Son of God who loved me and who sacrificed himself for my sake" (Ga 2:20) and a very integrating one, enabling us to "bring everything together~ under Christ" (Ep 1:10). This--it seemsto me--is the most serious challenge which secularization puts to vowed communities today. Integration Through Reflection As we saw, one of the deepest effects of secularization is disintegration. There is no longer any one overarching human legitimation for the think-ing person today. We, even as vowed people, stand and struggle side by side with the modem person in loneliness, doubts, fears' and feelings of disinte-gration. We too are among the "new poor." The third world is closer to us than we think; it is inside our shirts especially if we have already chosen the still greater poverty of fundamentalism with iis moral, dogmatic and spirit-ual naivet6 and ~elitism. We are, however, expected to .stand with our fellow Christians in seren-ity and in a "peace which the world cannot give" (Jfi 14:27). We stand with them in a spirit of confidence too, as Jesus did with his disciples, when for him and for them everything seemed lost; "I have told you all this so that you may find peace in me. In the world you will have trouble, but be brave; I have overcome the world" (Jn 16:23). Only a life of prayer can discover and sustain this peace, this joy in the midst of a secularizing experience. Jesus led a busy life and had constant calls on his service, but we find the source of his power in the actual physical withdrawal, to be with God: "His reputation continued to grow and large crowds would gather to hear him and to have their sickness cured but ~he would always go away to some place to be alone and pray" (Lk 15:16). The form of prayer for today would seem to be what Macquarie calls "prayer as thinking";5 it is a prayer.which reflects on what God is doing in the world more than on what he,has done in scriptural times, without of course neglecting this latter. It is a praye~: which keeps our spiritual faculties alive. All reality, especially fast-changing or disintegrated reality~ is opaque and this is especially true in the m6dern world when ambiguity is part of life everywhere. We need to sharpen our spiritual eyesight to see what Bonhoffer described as the "holy depths" of.things and events. It is not so much a prayer "giving us time to refuel, but a prayer'which gives us increased awareness for better and deeper involvement and which motivates us for the human task of offering the world salvation from '~'everything that oppresses the.human person especially sin and the .evil one" (EN n. 9). Lest we ourselves succumb to the burnout of compulsive activity or the dropout of ceaseless seminars this life of "prayer as thinking" 1611/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 seems essential. . A long time ago, Christopher Dawson observed: "Men today are divided between those who have kept their spiritual roots and lost their contact with the existing order of society, and those who have preserved their social contacts and lost their spiritual roots." Could this be a descrip-tion of vowed persons today? Relativization of All Reality ~ I read somewhere that the Talmud says we will be held accountable to God for all the legitimate pleasures we have not enjoyed. When all this is said and dqne, there still remains the fact that so many of life's legitimate-- or even essential--pleasures are denied millions today, in even our devel-oped world. There also stands the fact that "we have not here a lasting city" (Heb 1:3:14) ahd that we possess only the certaintY of Christian hope: "We have a sure hope and the promise of an inheritance that can never be spoilt or soiled and never fade away because it is being kept for you in the heavens" (1 P 3:4). One part of our mission is to keep.Christian hope clearly before people and thus relativize reality, both good and evil. Secularization or not, the human person has a tendency to appropriate goods, material and spiritual, to hold them closely and even to be possessed by them. Our lives if they are lived in the simplicity and detachment which we .profess, will relativize the enjoyment or deprivation of material things and remind others that t.hey are to be shared: "Warn those who are rich in this world's goods, that they are not to look down on other people and not to set their hopes on money which is untrustworthy but on God, who out of his riches, gives us all that we need for our happiness. Tell them that they are to do good and be rich in good works, to be generous and willing to share"(l Tm 6:17,18). We can do this "telling" by our lifestyle, before we do it in words, the opportunity for which may never come our way. We also speak to the poor enabling them to relativize their desire for justice and to recall that while they struggle for their rights, there isan opportunity for growth in their poverty too. "Listen, my dear brothers, it was those who are poor accord, ing to the world that God chose to be rich in faith and to be heirs to the kingdom which he promised to those who love him" (Jm 2:5). Modernization has created so many who are enduring forced celibacy through broken marriages or infidelity and who are still avalanched by the media's sexual imperative. We can support these people even without speaking, because our lives experience the same yearnings and our minds are exposed to the same urgings and yet we struggle successfully on, with-out the assurance of genital involvement. But all this depends on our Vowed ~'fe in a Secularized World / 169 manifesting balanced and happy personalities, as people who have inte-grated their relationships and their sexuality in a healthy way. For secular-ized persons--many of whom suffer from confused psychosexuality--we can be supportive signs of survival and of fulfilled happiness through our lived celibacy. Individualism is a mark of the secularized person, coming very often as it does from hurt, insecurity and alienation. This can be so in our own communities too. The insecure person lives ambivalently between a desire to be accepted through cooperation and a fear of being dominated by submission. This is part of the disintegrating experience of modern life. If alienation is the pathology of our age, individualism is one of its clearest manifestations. By our vow of obedience lived out and seen not as "doing what one is told" but as discernment of what is best leadership in and through a caring community, we have much to say to the modern person about finding his or her own best expression of self in a confused world. It is even humanly true that "none of us is as wise as all of us." The secularized person, tempted to extreme individualism needs to rediscover this; for the good of ¯ families, local groups and for national and international survival, o Process.and Pilgrimage , It is clear that we vowed people will not be on the edge of the human experience of secularization and its consequential feeling of disintegration much longer. We share with men and women everywhere their search for stability and for lost certainties as the river of secularization tries to move all of us up, down and forward. To an extent, we found ourselves insulated from the human condition until recently, but no longer. Even if it were. not through necessity, we know that if we are to hold conversation with and to evangelize the world, we must pitch our tents within it; as God did. We must be prepared to pilgrimage our way once again and enter into the human process which we'should never have deserted. The fact that we accept this, will help so many others who find it difficult and who drop out into drugs or other forms of anomie and despair. Again, our vows lived authentically prepare us for the pilgrimage, ready us to keep moving, because we have publicly professed not to hold on, not to settle and not to be held. By our lived poverty, we refuse to be possessed by any material consideration and by our vows of chastity we also refuse to be possessed by ahy relationship. Obedience enables us to keep listening and looking at the map of moving events with eyes of faith and lbve. To quote Karl Rahner again from the same article: "The concrete future of Christianity, the Church and religious life remains largely hidden 17{I / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 from us . what historical and social form the Church and ecclesial Christianity will take in the future, remains largely hidden from us., we have to fight for victory without.a prognosis of victory" (p. 136). He was not° referring tothe effects of secularization at that time, but what he wrote is truer than ever now, and it puts us side by side and hopefully hand in hand with the modern man or woman as they endure the sec-ularization- experience. Interdependence and Involvement Our communities are not islands of isolated peace in a troubled uni-verse. No, they are sources from which we. emerge to makea more human and so a more godly world. Our vows enable us to do this; having freed us from, they also free usforLin a liberating way. ~',~ Our vow of poverty truly lived, makes us free for involvement. Because we have nothing to lose, we can carry the struggle for justice .further and when our lives are skilled in dispossession, we are not open to criticism from the rich~whose lives we question for the sake of the poor. Our good news for the poor has to be in some way perceived as bad news for the rich and they will readily point to any beam or bank account in our own lives if these are obvious. Only 'by relinquishing the power of possessions .can we demonstrate our competence to communicate freedom. Our vow of chastity makes us free to keep moving and to freely ask even our close friends: "Do you want to go away too?" (Jn 6:67). Again, we can take risks which married people with concern for their,families and for each other cannot be asked to take. Obedience, as we saw, offers us a freedom to live out a ,radar-like listening to God's word in the world around us. Truth comes only with listening :and discernment and these take. place best among a group of sharing people~ Obedience is .a public statement, that we bind ourselves to listen within and are missioned by a community through its leaders. This offers a model~for others to do the same in the Church. The quality of relationships and of concern for anyone at a distance suffers greatly in this time of disintegrative secularization, as each one looks to his or her own very personal success or survival. Nations do the same. This di-ama is, played out on a smaller scale every day in the average city too. Surely our communities have something important to say to people in this bleak situation. In our public interaction with one another° and for those who visit our communities,.the prayer ot~Jesus for his whole Church must tend towards .fulfillment: "_May they all be one, Father, may they be one in us, as you are in me and I am in you, so that the world may believe it was you who sent me" (.In 17:21). The Vowed Life in a Secularized Worm / 1.71 In' conclusion, I submit that we are approaching the ideal today, as we find the vowed life standing less at a point of comfortable distance from the world and more at a point of painful dialectic with it. At this point it must be ready to say a confirming yes or a challenging no--and do this by its life and activity--to all the results of secularization. To quote .the Anglican writer, Macquarie again: Here it must be said with regret that the trouble with some of our less responsible contemporary Christian secularizers is that they have taken up the ideal of holy worldliness, but seem to have promptly forgotten the adjective and reduced the ideal to a worldly concern tout court. They tell us that Christianity is a purely secular movement, their ideal of the good life seems scarcely distinguishable from the one that is so assiduously propagated by Madison Avenue, and the more extreme among them, in their horror at any supposed 'withdrawal' from the world, come near to advocating that the time has arrived to replace "poverty, chastity, and obedience with affluence, promiscuity, and autonomy as the highest goals for human life, or even as (he new evangelical counsels! The s!ogan for all this'is that w'e sho.uld 'say yes' to the world. But I do not think thata simple world affirmatioa will either help us to find God in the world or help the world to know his presence.6 - ~ Indeed, if we are to follow the words of Lumen Gentium, Chapter VI, par 44, the vowed life must say yes and no even to the Church itself. NOTES ~Facing Up to Moflernity, New York: Basic Books, 1977, 2John Macquarie, New Directions in Theology Today, Vol. III, p. 67, Philadelphia: 1981. 3"The Future of Religious Life" in Supplement to Doctrine and Life, Dublin: Domini-can l%_blications, May, 1972. 4The Greek' word anakephalasiosastai~is used in secular literature to express the con-ceptof many different ideas being subsumed under one theme. 5John Macquarie, Paths in Spirituality, Chapter 3, SCM Press, 1980, 6Op tit 2, p. 66. Vocation Ministry: Continuing the Invitation of Jesus Thomas E. Clark, ES.C. Brother Clark, Associate Vocation Director for the Chicago Province of the Christian Brothers, sees his work to be very much a ministry. This article is based on a presenta-tion he gave to the faculties of his congregation's schools in the Chicago area. He may be addressed at his .office: 200 De La Salle Drive; Romeoville, lllinois 60441. y ~vork 'as a full'time vocation minister for my community has often given me the opportunity to speak with young people, both individually and in groups, about the experience of being called by the Lord. My message to them is nearly identical to that of hundreds of other vocation ministers: each of us is called by God, each of us has a vocation, and it is up to each of us to discover what that vocation is. Onthe surface, the message seems clear, theologically sound, and understandable. However, what I have become aware of recently is th~at, in the two years I have been deliver-ing the message that each of us is called, the feeling with which I have been delivering that message has sometimes left something to be desired. Rather than offering a challenge to the young people with whbm I speak--a ch~allenge to discover a meaningful and significant way of living the Gospel ¯ in today's world--I've often felt that I am offering instead an apology for the choices I have made. It is as though the challenge of the Gospel might be just a little too naive for today's world, and to invite anyone to take it seriously may seem foolish and unrealistic. And even more foolish might be the invitation of young people to consider religious life and Church ministry as real options for themselves, ways of living out the Gospel challenge. I would certainly be out of touch with reality, I sometimes feel,-if I were to think that these people sitting in front of me--healthy, normal, 172 Vocation Ministry American young adults might consider religious life and Church ministry as serious-options for themselves. Thus when I speak with them, my invitation is sometimes clouded over with justifications ("I'm here today simply to make you aware of some choices I've made"), or sprinkled with "escape clauses" ("Any career you choose can be ministry"). The'underlying message, of course, is "I don't really expect you to consider any of these things for yourself." (In citing the above examples, of justification and "escape clauses," I do not mean to imply that there is no place in vocation ministry for "awareness education" or for a broad understanding of minis-try and community. On the contrary, these two approaches are essential to vocation ministry. They do not, however, constitute the whole of vocation ministry, and are sometimes used to avoid its more challenging aspect: that of invitation.) In speaking with a number of religious who are involved in vocation ministry, I have discovered that they, too, have much the same experience at times. Put simply, there are times when I do not believe there are any people who would be open to considering religious life as an option for themselves. Such an attitude is easily communicated to others, though it may not be directly stated,'and has the effect of turning away anyone who may consider religious life as a personal option. Further, a religious who holds such an attitude could never extend a confident and joyful invitation to an individual to consider religious life. It is my belief that such an attitude will keep religious not just from extending invitations to people to consider religious life, but on a deeper and more fundamental level, will keep us from fulfilling the responsibility we have to call people to build the kingdom of God. It is this invitation to the kingdom which is at the heart of vocation ministry, and which I wish to explore in more detail. In doing so, I shall consider several related topics: the model of invitation which Jesus gives us in the Gospels; vocation ministry as a means of living out that model; the philosophy of vocation ministry which has emerged in recent years; and finally, the challenge which we religious have been given in regard to vocation ministry. Jesus: Model of Invitation A simple perusal of the Gospels will show that Jesus had no hesitation about inviting peopl~ to follow him. His invitations are clear and concise. There is no misunderstanding what he means; the challenge is laid out on the table and nothing is hidden: Come after me and I will make you fishers of men (Mr 5:19). Follow me (Mr 9:9). Come and see (Jn 1:39). 1"/4/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 While such invitations may have been disarming or even~ unne ,rying to his listeners, it is difficult to imagine their being misunderstood. Jesus .has asked someone'to be his follower; it is as simple as that. ~ Neither does Jesus fail to make known to his followers his expe~ctations of them. In fact, his~requirements are so clear that~ sometimes they sound almost harsh. Whoever wishes to be my follower must deny his very self, thke Up his° '~ cross each day, and follow in my steps. Whoever would save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will save it (Lk 9:23-24). ~.Let the dead bury their dead; come away and proclaim the kingdom of God (Lk 9:60). The requirements of following Jesus are great. He knows this, and does not hide this frown those whom he invites. At the same time, the invitation is issued with a certain excitement stemming from urgency of the call as well as its promise: Tliis is the tim~ of fulfillment. The reign of God is at hand! Refo~-m ~our lives and believe in the Gospel! (Mk 1":5). Go a~d sell what you have and give to the poor; you will then have treasure in heaven. After that, come and follow me (Mk 10:21). This last invitation of Jesus was issued in response to the question of the rich young man, "What must I do to share in everlasting life?" (Mk 10".17). An.d it is here that we find out why Jesus issues the invitation t[iat he does: He knows everlasting life, and wants to share that with us. Again and again, Jesus promises us the kingdom and all that goes with it: fullness of life (Jn 10:10); complete joy (Jn 17:13); knowledge of th~ true God (Jn 17:3); the freedom of the truth (Jn 8:32); his own peace (Jn 14:27); the hundredfold and ~verlasting life (Mk 10:30). Jesus knows the k.ingdom and the gifts of the kingdom, and wants that experience for those to whom he has been sent. Herein we find the motivation behind his in~vitation, his c~all to take up the cross, [o sell all our possessions, to follow him. It is becaus~ he knows it will lead to the kingdom and everlasting lye,, arid he wants nothing less for us. It is love which has produced the clear, concise and even harsh invitation we find in the Gospel. With what kind of response .did Jesus' invitation meet? The Gospels sl~ow us pictures of every kind of response imaginable: Peter and Andrew "abandoned their nets and became his followers," as did James and John (Mt 4:20-22); Matthew left his post as tax collec~tor (Mt 9:9). The rich young man went away sad because of his many possessions (Mk 10:22). In a particularl~ poignant episode ~ecorded in John's gospel, Jesus' teaching leads many of his disciples to protest and ultimately to break away from his company. On seeing this, Jesus asks the Twelve if they, too, will leave him. Vocation Ministry / 175 Peter responds, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words :of eternal life" (Jn 6:60 ff.). Thus, the responses to Jesus' invitations are many and varied, for Jesus always allowed the individual to respond freely. What is evident, however, is that Jesus never stopped inviting, no matter what kind of response he met with. For Jesus, the important thing is that everyone be invited to follow him and to proclaim the kingdom. Negative responses, while disheartening, must not keep one from continuing to:issue the call, for all people deserve the opportunity to respond to the call. It is a matter of no :smalLsignificance, I believe, that the final words of Jesus in John's gospel are: "Follow me" (Jn 21:22). Continuing the Invitation: Vocation Ministry What does this never-ending invitation mean for us religio.us? What does it tell us, not only about our own response to Jesus' call, but about the mess-age we takb to the ~vorld? We have noted that Jesus' invitation flows from his expe~rience. He knows the Father, and the life that the Father gives~ Be.cause he knows, he Can ~nvite clearly, concisely and with authority. As men and women who have made life choices for the kingdom, and who have shared, at least in part, in the life of the kingdom, we too can invite others to embrace th~ kingdom. As men and women who have clearly chosen community and. ministry in the Church, we can invite others to conside~ community and ministry in the Chhrch as optionsfor.themselves. As men and women who have experieficed joy and. peace and life in these choices, as well as hardship and even pain, we can invite with the same confidence of Jesus, for we, too, know the burden and the gifts of the kingdom. In fact, Oot only can we continue to issue the invitation of Jesus, but in a certain sense, we have a responsibility to issue that invitation. !n a world where nuclear holocaust seems imminent, where starvation is the daily experience of millions, where poverty, unemployment and illiteracy a.re the lifestyle of whole ~egments of the world population.---in such a world, we who have been given the knowledge of the kingdom have a responsibility to call others to build that kingdom. In a world where people, especially young people, are searching for meaning and significance in their lives, where many live in confusion caused by crises of every kind, where whole societies are caught in the race for economic and political superiority--in such a world, we who have been promised the everlasting life of the kingdom have a responsibility to share that gift with this world. It is not that we .are holier o.r wiser than the rest of the world. Rather, we have been given the gift ~of a vision of how things can be. It is not our vision; it is God's vision that we have been given. And because we have 176/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 been given the vision, we must also bear theresponsibility--sometimes the burdgnsome responsibility--of calling others to God's vision. As religious, we have publicly proclaimed with joy and faith our desire to be a part of the kingdom, and that desire has been accepted joyfully by God. Now we must set ourselves to the task of inviting others, with our lives, to the ultimate meaning and significance which God's vision, the vision of the Kingdom, holds for the world. In the course of this lived invitation, we, like Jesus, must invite others clearly, concisely and directly to join us in bringing about God's vision for the world. We have the responsibility to say to people: "Sell all you have, give to the poor, and come away to proclaim the kingdom of God!" We must invite those with whom we work and pray and live to "Come and see" what we have seen. Like Jesus, our invitation will have authority if its motivation is love and its roots are found in our lived experien.ce. Thus, if we have found the meaning and significance of the kingdom in our religious commitment, in our community life, and in our ministry, then we must invlte others to that same experience. If religious life has been the context of God's kingdom for us, then we must invite others to consider that same context for themselves. We cannot deny others the opportunity that is ours, the gift we have been given in religious life. I believe that not to make others aware of this gift, not to speak of God's vision for us, and most importantly, not to invite others to consider this gift for themselves would constitute such a denial. I believe that vocation ministry if you will, the ministry of invitation and discovery--can be a powerful means of carrying on the invitation of Jesus. A Philosophy of ¥ootion Ministry Vocation ministry has emerged in recent years as a valid and accepted ministry in the ~Church. This emergence is due in large part to a new u~nderstanding of vocation ministry, an understanding which has its foun-dation in the model of 'invitation which Jesus provides in the Gospel. Unfortunateiy, this approach to vocation ministry is not' understood by many religious, and consequently keeps them from supporting the voca-tion efforts of their communities, and even more importantly, from involv-ing themselves in these efforts. As we have seen, vocation ministry, when considered as a ministry of invitation, is modeled by Jesus. But such an understanding of vocation ministry is relatively new. There was ~ time in the not too distant past (and which still e~xists today in some circles) when vocation ministry was consi-dered to be "recruitment," and the person who did this work was known as the "recruiter." This designation was appropriate at the time, for the person Vocation Ministry / 177 who served as a recruiter for a religious community attempted to find and enlist people, especially young peol~le, who seemed suitable for her or his particular community. The religious recruiter was searching for people to carry onthe work--the good work---of her or. his congregation. The job of the religious recruiter was similar to that of recruiters for the military, for schools or for corporations: namely, to ensure the continuance of the group's interests. The beneficiary of this process was the group and in 'the case of the religious recruiter, the beneficiary was her or his community and the people the community served. The term "recruitment" and the philosophy ~vhich it designates does not fit what Jesus does in the Gospels when he invites people to follow him. I believe that as the work of "recruitment" becomes more and more pat-terned after the model of invitation which Jesus provides, we need to call it by another name. It is at this point that we can begin to speak of "vocation ministry." The difference in language is reflective of the difference in philos-ophy and practice. It is, in fact, the difference between "recruitment and ministry," and it is shown in a new role for the person who does this work. This role is no longer one of serving primarily the needs of the congrega-tion, but is one of serving the needs of the people with whom the vocation minister works directly, the people whom she or he assists in discovering how and where and with whom the Lord calls them to build the kingdom. The priorities of the vocation minister have changed, from a focus on ensuring that the life of her or his congregation continues by enlisting people into the order, to a focus on ensuring that people discover who it is that God calls them to be. The agenda from which the vocation minister works has changed, from being primarily the order's agenda, to being primarily God's agenda. To some, such differentiation rhay seem too subtle to be of any impor-tance; .it may even seem like hairsplitting or word games. I believe, how-ever, that it is not too subtle, nor is =it hairsplitting, nor is it word games. For when looked at from the perspective of the person attempting to discern God's call, and especially the young person faced with fife-choices to make, there is a world of difference between the recruiter who wants that person to be a sister or brother or priest, and the minister who wants to help that person discover where God calls him or her to build the kingdom, where life will hold the most meaning for him or her, with no preconceived notion of where that might be. I contend further that, when considered from God's perspective, there is an ~ven more profound difference between "recruitment" and "ministry." It is the difference between the recruiter who believes that the continuance of her or his congregation is in the recruiter's hands, and that it is up to the recruiter to supply the needs of the order; and 1711 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 the minister.who trusts that God callg people to build his kingdom as sisters,, brothers, priests, married people and single people, and belieVes that her or his role is to act as Jesus did in inviting people to listen for God's .call and to act on it. Such a stand places the responsibility for supplying the needs of the order in God's hands, and~ recognizes the responsibility of the vocation minister and° the members of the congrega-tion to act as instruments-of his call by issuing the invitation to the kingdom. ~ Vocation ministry, and not recruitment, is the responsibility of every religious. It is a responsibility which stems not from fear for the future of religious life, but rather from the fact that each of us has been given a great and wonderful gift in religious life, a gift which must be shared with others. Our invitation to religious life is given in the context of the kingdom: because we have known the kingdom in our life and ministry with one another, we'invite others to that same experience. It is not recruitment for a particular order that vocation ministry is about; it is an invitation to nothing less than the kingdom of God that we,. as religious, must be about. The Challenge to Re!igious When vocation ministry is seen not as recruitment but as a ministry whose foundation is the model of invitation, which Jesus himself offers, an entirely new challenge is given to .religious. It is a challenge which brings about a n.ew set of questions: --Have I ~experien~ed the kingdom of"God? Where and with. whom was that experience~of the kingdom ? --Is the experience of living in religious community and doing Church ministry an experience of the kingdom for me? --Do I sense both the responsibility and the desire to share the king-dom with others by inviting them to build the kingdom? -~Am I willing to invite others to consider religious community and Church ministry as a way of building the kingdom, a way which has been life-giving and Satisfying for me? I believe that we religious can continue to invite others to join us i~n community and m~nistry. Some Of those whom we invite will join us; others will find another flay of building the. kingdom; still others~will go away sad. But vhatever the response, we can continue to invite, secure in the knowl-keidngged otmha~t,, tion wouhric rhe lwigei oinuvs i~teo mthmosiet mwehnotm, w we eh maveee tb. eOenu rg iinvveinta"ati osnh ai'sr.em iont it-he vated not by fear of the fu(ure, but rather by a sincere desire to share the gift we have been given, With joy ~and confidence we can coniinue to spe~k the invitation of Jesus: "Come away and proclaim the kingdom of God!" Gentle Exile: Reflections on Formation Mary Ellen Dougherty~ S.S.N.D. After a long stint in formation work for her community, Sister Dougherty has returned to the teaching of English. Sh.e may be addressed at The College of Notre Dame of Maryland; 4701 N. Charles Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21210. Shortly.before I finished a long term in formation work, I told myself that eventually I would write an article that might be of use to others in that ministry. I waited. I needed distance. After a year or so, subjectivity settled into uncertainty. I did not know what I wanted to say. Now, more than four years later, I think 1 do. ~ Initially, I would have commented on the characteristics of candidates currently interested in religious life, the inevitable challenges in dealing with them, and the necessity of both structure and latitude in a formation program. I would have talked about the generosity of young people in ministry, their ambivalence about vows. Now, however, I would like to focus on formation, personnel. 1 address my remarks especially to those who are in the work, and to those who .are considering it as ministry. In more than.eight ye~ars in this ministry, I worked, directly, in various team arrangements, with eight different directors. As director of novices, I participated, with the novices, in intercommunity programs in which directors shared on a regular basis. I speak, then, out of my own experience, and out of some ongoing reflections with at least two dozen directors, men and women. And I speak, still, tentatively. These are my insights now. In many ways I was nbt an effective director. In some ways I was. I have learned from both. I do not think there is a standard profile for a successful director~ There are countless variations on virtues that could be 179 1110/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 considered. Certainly a consistent attitude and practice of prayer, along with a keen mind and a clean heart, are essential. Inner freedom issuing from a clear depth of uncluttered spirituality is central. It is not my intention, however, to explore these here. That, perhaps, is another article. I would like, instead, to address three fundamental areas which, in practice, prove t.o be crucial: experience, affectivity, and integrity. Experience Age, I think, is only a factor for the director insofar as it permits experience. What one has done is not necessarily what one has experienced. To receive experiences of poverty, failure, darkness, in the light of grace, balanced with experiences of fulfillment and productivity, requires time; one must have lived long enough and well enough to know the inevitability of the rhythm, to expect the seasons to change. In that sense, age is important. It is not just what one has experienced, but what one has not experienced that should be consid~reff. One who has been given the time to live as well as the time to die, and has learned to receive both with equanimity, has lived long enough. And one who has not, should not be expected to deal with her own discoveries easily in the context of formation work. Events may always surprise us; the curr~nt of life should not. Affectivity I am not professionally equipped in terms of academic background t6 talk about the psychology of affectivity, or stages of affective development. My observations are purely practical: when the affective or relational life of a director is undeveloped or undernourished, there are generall~ relational problems with those she is directing; these are Often lodged in some variation of dependency, usually mutual. The director, from my observa-tions, usually takes the relationship more seriously, in the long run, than the candidate; the director seems to have some expectations of permanence, whereas the candidate, especially if she is young, is more than likely to tr~insfer her emotions rather quickly. There often is, however, some degree of mutual destruction. It is essential, 'then, that formation directors have the capacity for, and the activity of, peer relationships, that over the years they demonstrate an ability to interact in friendship with inutuality and absence of unwarranted dependency. The demands of formation work are constant and draining, especially if the director is living ~vith her directees. Candidates, especially younger ones, often exhibit a love-hate response toward authority. Unless the director has a belief in her own lovableness, created by a deep personal sense of God, and the experience of significant peer relationships over the years, she can be quickly undone. So can those Gentle Exile / 1111 she directs. Oia the other hand, a director who has a variety of relationships, and who is secure in at least a few of them, is not likely to need her directees. She may, over the months or the years, develop some friendships among them, but these will be a matter of choice, not of necessity. Integrity, Given a person who has lived long enough and loved hard enough, we come to the point of integrity, which I use in a limited sense here. I speak only of that dimension of integrity which enables one to experience some independent clarity about the truth, and to be faithful to it in spite of opposition. It is not my intention to suggest moral judgments. Like many people in positions of authority, formation directors must be able, if necessary, to stand alone. They must be capable of making and living out graced decisions which may create great conflict. And they must be as capable of independent thinking as, they are of consultation. A director who is not comfortable thinking for herself, who relies too heavily on approval and too little, on her own graced instincts, is usually transparent to her directees; wittingly or unwittingly, they may use her. While the need for dialogue, for collaboration, for consensus cannot be overstated, neither can the need for slow, clear, independent decisions that begin in the deepest level of self, where, in the face of opposition, integrity, a matter of grace, becomes a manifestation of courage. When all is said and done, it is fidelity (or infidelity) to the graced self with whom one must live. There is nothing new under the sun. The ability to receive experience and to let it become wisdom; the calbacity to love and to be loved without ownership; the self-possession and the faith to risk a gentle (or not so gentle) exile--these are characteristic of any authority who claims Jesus as her source. If formation work is anything, it is daily. If anyone needs Jesus as her source, a formation director does. Working with the Young Adult with Temporary Vows Vito Aresto, EM. S._ Brother Aresto is Vice Provincial and .Director of Formation for,the Poughkeepsie (NY) Province of the Marist Brothers. Heohas been ,working with brothers under temporary profession for more than six years. He may be addressed at his Vice-Pro-vincial Office: 4200 W. l i5th Street; Chicago, Illinois 60655. Much has been written over the last several years about_the conditions and problems of the yoeng adult within formation programs of, religious life. Since many of the young people who come seeking this new lifestyle come after years 9f college or work experience, formation directors are finding that the traditionally tried and true methods, of formation~seem to contain significant gaps when dealing with this new kind of person. The problem becomes even more complicated when the young person is in t~emporary vows. In this paper I would like to delve into some of the significant areas that have emerged in my working with our temporary professed. For the most part they are young men who have achieved rather comfortable recogni-tion professionally. They have taken their first vows in their middle twen-ties and look forward to years of growth and service within religious life. Final profession comes somewhere around age thirty. Developmental psychology has examined this period of growth young adulthood with great earnestness. Clearly, it is being recggnized that as life develops it confronts, struggles, and tackles successive issues in life's fabric and resolves them only to move forward to confront still newer issues towards growth. Such progress is noted as maturation, growing in one's potential, developing into a full human person. ~Vorking with the Young Adult . When the issues of spirituality are overlayed upon this rich process, we begin to see something of the concept of conversion. Obviously, when one begins to probe conversion, there is a point where even the best of the social sciences"pales before the mystery of faith: But nonetheless, we can learn much about growth and developmenL particularly in the struggles of a young adult who is attempting to find his or her place within a religious .family. This unfolding of life's grandeur and mystery is not at all easy. It can never be pain free if it is authentic. For the formation personnel working with young religious a good grasp of this process is obviously needed. Crisis needs to be viewed as part of the human drama, and neither .overstated nor underplayed. Rather the formation director can be a calming influence for~ individuals as they probe the' issues and unravel a course of action. In this light it is also very important to note that the director ~should be very comfortable with assisting the young adult to tap into such helping services as therapy or spiritual direction. It is important to realize that the varying issues which emerge are not all vocational conflicts. Rather some very necessary growing-pain situations may be interpreted as "vocational,' which in actual fact are merely struggles with growth issues. At other times personal,life issues may be confused as stress issues needing therapy, but are deeply vocational. Finally, there may be.a blend of both. It is the task of the formatioh director .as calming influence to help the young person wade through the issues, and recognize where they lie. In naming the dil~.~a, the course.to resolution becomes less threatening. For most young religious the transition from novitiate life to active ministry carries with it some straining adjustments. There is a great differ, ence between accepting the need to integrate the essential elements of reli-gious life and actually attempting to do so. This strain to interpret and realize the ideal can either bring about growth in young persons, or have them develop a selective sense which, ma~y in the long run distort growth. Each person must face honestly that the balance of the essential elements of the religious life structure cannot be merely put aside for some personal notion of the greater good. In the long run true growth for the young religious only takes place in confronting each aspect of vowed life as important, and then developing a proper rhythm for themselves. Fidelity to their vowed commitment must be presented as their primary work, By doing this they will be realistic in discerning this lifestyle within their congregation and how it truly fits into their own needs ~ind response to the Lord and his people. This approach, one that asks young persons not to compromise any aspect of their vowed commitment, even when faced with the tremendous 11t4 / Review for Religi~ous, March.April, 1986 pressures of the varying adjustments of prayer, community and apostolate, is utterly honest in recognizing and treating religious as adults. The fact remains that as they unravel their dreams and expectationsi they must also be totally immersed in what actually is the life they now share in their new religious family. This task can become even more burdensome as the young religious begin to recognize and feel the depth of confusion, and even sinfulness within their chosen religious family. Yet, within this sobering reality one fundamental task for.the temporary professed religious is to come to real-ize whether their dreams can be honestly integrated within this particular congregation. If this cannot be done then an honest and courageous act would be to depart. The Lord is not asking anyone to surrender his or her dreams, nor is he asking the impossible in great and massive adjustments to what a person holds sacred to the purpose and direction in life. It becomes the task of the formation director to help and accompany the young religious in this discerning process. But the director should never water down or compromise in the name of charity what he or she knows are realities incompatible to the values and goals of the congregation. Furthermore, the director must a.lways make the distinction between fidel-ity to a lifestyle and fidelity to the Lord. The young must come to realize that commitment to Jesus as their Lord can be lived in all the genuine forms and calls to holiness within the Church. Hopefully, the novitiate process has solidly grounded these young persons in their commitment to Jesus. Temporary vows must focus on the parameters of this particular religious family and charism as one valid and true means towards holiness for this young religious. Therefore, a truly respectful and, honest relationship must exist between the formation direc-tor and the young religious so that.real growth and integrity can develop. It is of paramount importance then, that the young,~religious' dreams must be found to be possible in the congregation they have chosen to enter. This is not only vitally important for the growth and development of the young religious, it is also vital for the growth and development of the congregation. The life given to this young religious by God is also a gift of life for all the members of the congregation. When such interaction is in process a certain sense of peace and purpose prevail. When it is. not present one readily begins to sense and hear bitterness, sarcasm, and resentment., Understanding the vital need of a dream in a young religious' life must therefore be one of the important areas into which a director must examine and explore. The novitiate will set up ideals that are solidly grounded in spiritual and scriptural foundations, but these ideals will not be realized except in the attempt at the actual riving out of community within, a local Working with the Young Adult / 1115 setting. It must be realized that each local community is itself struggling to unravel the full meaning and purpose of its shared life direction. Although young religious may leave the novitiate in full recognition that life is a process of growth and integration, it will only be in the experience of community that they will begin to understand the journey with their broth-ers or sisters that they have begun. Therefore, understanding the dreams and also knowing deeply the real struggles of this religious family is a task that each formation director must grasp when dealing with temporary professed. Ultimately, the focus must be turned completely on the Lord. He must remain the very purpose and intention of the young religious. Service will only .spring from the well of deep commitment to the Lord who loved all people even, unto death. More times than not, the young religious' grasp of the importance of intimacy is also wrapped up in their understanding of their dream. They do not enter religious life accepting the fact that there will be little or no intimate relationships in their lives. Obviously, religious life does afford the opportunities for a rich relational life; but that can only come through the struggle of integrating the vows in the light of each one's intimate relational needs. For young religious who must deal with this issue through the maze of the various transitional periods of growth, the very issue of intimacy can become pivotal to successful integration, and thus to peace within this chosen lifestyle. The movement towards dealing with one's~relational life also has impli-cations for community and ministerial life. In community this can expand one's depth of compassion, and in ministry it can help focus one's work beyond the notion of career to an expression of the Lord's service con-tinued through his Church. Each step of this awareness will heighten the young religious' recognition that he or she has truly been called by Another. Gradually imprinted upon the life and work of each young reli-gious is the paschal ,mystery, each one's transformation into Christ. The weathering of growth issues can therefore be the seed for a deepening of vocational understanding that is not only personal but intimate with the Lord. As young religious move closer to their thirtieth year there is to be noted a very subtle but careful evaluation taking place. Some significant issues have emerged and been confronted. The young religious also begin to recognize.that all the aspects of their dreams and aspirations may not be completely realized. They begin to feel, and not merely know, the implica-tions of being chaste and obedient. The cultural values of their society, with its push towards success, ambition, and recognition weigh on their poverty. Ultimately, as final commitment approaches, so does the trauma of the 186 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 "second calling." It is at this moment that the formation director must gently accompany~the young religious. The time for mentofing has ended. It becomes important that unconditional acceptance pervade the whole relationship, If the journey through those years of temporary vows has been honest and rich in successful and mature handling of life issues, then the response to this second calling--a permanent commitment to the Lord within this congregation--will~ be made with the totality possible to this young adult. Fundamentally, as one accompanies young adults~through their initial years of religious commitment, one quickly realizes that formation is.lrela-tional growth. The young religious come eager to respond to the Lord~. Their response has been wrapped and colored within their dreams of Ltheir future life and ministry. Novitiate naturally assists in a solid grounding and underpinning, but it°is not until there is full immersion in the daily routine of life in common and in ministry that they begin to confront and grow within their religious commitment. For the formation director the journey of this pilgrimage is one of trust and love. Ultimately, the individual must come to a sense of'personal peace. This peace is only born in the honest relational growth between each individual and the Lord, between the individual and his or her brothers or sisters, and the individual and the people they are sent to work with and serve. This peace should become the full flowering of a love that rests solidly on the motivation and direction of a life-decision made to the Lord and his people, within this special band of disciples that he or she chose for a religious family. '~ Reflectively, we can turn to Jesus as the model for the formation director who works' with young adults. Particularly is this so if we. focus upon his dealings with Peter. Here we note the care and compassion that must be evidenced by the director. For three years Jesus guided, taught and challenged Peter. These lessons werenot ~beyond the scope of correction and prodding, but they were also done in sincere and tender cbncern. And yet when the supreme :momefit for Jesus arrived, his hour of glory, Peter was still unaware of the magnitude of Jesus' mission. Much like the novice who enters first profession, Peter needed to continue to grow and ~be challenged, even in the darkness of near despair. It was not until the depth of his relationship with the Lord was securely grounded that Peter was ready to shepherd. Only then did he fully comprehend the-initial call that was repeated in the marvelous second calling at the end of John's gospel, "Do you love me? . Come, follow me!" Strangely enough in that rich relational bond between Peter and the Lord did his fondest dreams become rei~l. He no longer needed~io hold Working with the Young Adult / 187 tightly to privilege or rank. Now he no longer saw himself as solely the "rock," but rather could he challenge all that he shepherded to be "living stones," part of the "edifice" of the Lord and his Church. He understood clearly all that was needed to continue the process of growth, a journey into wholeness and holiness. For the young religious the journey is similar. The director must guide and accompany them so that the echo of the initial call of the Lord can be profoundly realized and incorporated into the very identity and dreams of these young persons. Permanent commitment becomes a full expression of a relationship that is central to their meaning and purpose. 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 - Cru~ciform Obedience Price: $1.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review ~or Religious Rm 428 ~3601 Lindell Blvd. St: Louis, Missouri 63108 Commitment in a Religious Order: A Sociological View Joseph C. Doyle Dr. Doyle teaches at Seton Hall University (South Orange Ave; South Orange, Neff Jersey 07079), where he may be addressed. There is a special quality about people who are committed to something, whether it be to another person, a group, an organization, a career, or an idea. That quality can be captured by such words as "loyalty," "allegiance," or "steadfastness." For to be committed is to be involved in a relationship which has priority in one's life over alternative relationships or only one-self. This does not mean that a person's other involvements are ignored bu.t only that when push comes to shove this relationship has singular importance. Obviously, this is a key feature of religious life, for the purpose of religious orders is to foster growth in each member's commitment to Christ. In fact, it has often been assumed, both by people within and without such institutions, that this is the sole ~ocus of the members' ~om-mitments-- that they "have the faith." In the past fifteen years or so, how-ever, the large scale exodus of members from the various forms of religious life has raised serious questions in many quarters concerning this one dimensional view of religious commitment. In particular, such authors as ~Marie Augusta Neal,~ Helen Ebaugh,2 Lucinda San Giovanni,3 Richard Schoenhern and Andrew Greeley,4 and Patricia Wittberg5 have all attemp-ted to shed a social scientific light on some of these questions. This paper is meant to be a reflection on some themes developed out of this tradition. It will attempt to present the results of some findings gleaned 188 Commitment in a Religious Order / 1119 from interviews with twenty women involved in a religious order in the eastern United States. Its major interest will be the way commitment in religious life passes through different forms, forms which seem to be affected by the kinds oof structures established by religious orders and by the way their members respond to these structures. It is, of course, danger-ous to generalize from a group 6f this size. Thus, the following remarks should be read as an'effort to explore some pertinent issues in the quality of commitment rhther than to offer a definitive statement on these issues. I. Sociology and Commitment Because this paper relies upon insights developed in sociology, perhaps it would be helpful to first briefly explain some key sociological ideas concerning commitment before delving into the material from the in/er-views. Over the past thirty years or so, sociology has developed a number of concepts for dealing with the experience of commitment. By and large, these ideas are rooted in the perspective that c6mrnitment is the result of certain ,mechanisms operating in groups or organizations that mold indi-viduals into loyal members. Thus; the primary attention is on how these social factors operate to produce a committed person. One of the more prominent efforts in this field can be found in the work of Rosabeth Kanter, particularly in her book Commitment and Community.6 While the analysis that follows utilizes these insights, it also attempts to show how individual members of a religious order responded to these forces and tried to grow beyond them. Kanter views commitment in terms of three interrelated dimensions: instrumental, affe.ctive.and moral. In addition, each of these dimensions is the result of a set of factors bY which a community leads its novices into full membership. By instrumental commitment Kanter means a felt attachment to a social role that is more rewarding or less costly than the roles outside of the community. In this kind of commitment the person wants to live up to the behavioral expectations that others in the community have of him or her. This attachm~ent is achieved, according to Kanter, by having the novice undergo experiences ,whereby the individual has to invest her time and energy in doing the work of the community and to sacrifice her own possessions on behalf of the community. In this way the person finds himself or herself wanting to remain because of all that has been expended ¯ in the effort to achieve full membership. As Kanter puts it: When profits and costs are considered, participants find the cost of leaving the system would be greater than the cost of remaining; "profit," in a net psychic sense, compels continual part;_cipation.7 190/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 By affective commitment Kanter means an attachment to a set of relationships whose ties are more gratifying than the ties with .alternative relationships. To find a particular,~set of relatio, nships more gratifying than others means recognizing that set as the,primary source of. affection and support in one's life. This dimension is realized by having novice members renounc6 all previous ties of affection as being primary for them and by involving them in communal activities with members of th~eir group. In these ways the new participant comes to develop emotional ties with these others and a cohesive bond develops amongst them. Finally, by moral or normative commitment'Kanter means an alle-giance to the values and norms of the community and a willingness to obey the authority structure of the community as the ultimate interpreter of those norms and .values. However, this allegiance doesonot necessarily develop after a careful evaluation of these norms and structures. Instead, Kanter sees this dimension arising from a set of beliefs and values that have been internalized in an often irrational or unc_ritical way. In Some respects, commitment to norms and values resembles the concept of superego, which binds the evaluative components bf the self t6 norms of a system through an internalized authority.8 The moral commitment of members is achieved, Kanter notes, by techniques that encourage novices to'deny significance to their own ideas and desires and to place their trust more in the community than 'in them-selves. Thus, new members come to see the way of life of the coinmunity as more meaningful than that of competing alternatives. This sociological view of commitment may, at first sight, be rather upsetting to people who form a community in order "to ddepen their rela-~ tionship with God. '-I Would suggest that this reaction is a rather well-founded one. For what sociology has uncovered, and what many of the" religious women 1 interviewed realized after being in their order for a few years, is that there can be a very real difference between commitment to God and commitment to a religious organization. For this latter institution attempts to offer its members a way to God, but lhis "way" is embodied in historically realized rules, procedures;practices and customs that can often become ends in themselves in the minds and hearts of these members. The sociological point, of course, is that a religiouscommunity hasto empha-size these aspects if it is going to survive and so it has to foster commitment to them. Naturally, a religious institution hopes that its" members will develop spiritually by such practices, and many have done so. Nevertheless, as the' following analysis will show, the danger can also be that the corn= mitment does not get beyond these dimensions. How that can'happen and what can be done about it are the concerns of the rest of this paper. Commitment in a Religious Order / "191 II. A Sociology of Commitment in Religious Life A. Internalizing a Theme ~ The model of commitment presented by Kanter can be a useful tool for interpreting the experiences of the twenty women I interviewed. While these women all came from the same order, they varied as far as age (32-63), length of time in the order (9 years to over 40 years), and the kind of positions they held at the time of the interview (teaching, pastoral and the central administration of the order). Nevertheless, they all described their early years in religious life in ways that can b~e captured by Kanter's categories. 1: Internalizing the Instrumental Dimension One of the interesting findings of these interviews was that many of the nuns felt that the years taken up by their training were preoccupied with the proper performance of their duties, with what they called "the externals." In Kanter's terminology they were committed to the role of a religious person. She claims that it is possible for a person just to behave in a committed way, i:e., remain in the group but not necessarily care about the ideals or values of that group.9 While she'herself did not think that this was a full commitment, she did seeit as a possibility. When the nrns were asked about significant changes in their lives, one of the events frequently brought up was when they recognized that they had been caught up in the mere activity of being a nun. For example: when I came to religious hfe I switched to the externals because that is what I thought I was supposed to do and that was what was always talked about., how you dressed, how you performed this and how you did your chores, but I wasn't co~mfortable with that. When we first entered, the activities were important as you grow into being a member of the community. I think at some point you get caught up in the reception of the habit., that is a big day in your life., and you try to act like the pdrfect nun and" that sort of thing. ~ In addition to acting out the role of a reli~gious woman, many of the respondents reported recognizing, a period in their lives when their minis-try, or more pr.ecisel3~, their work, was mrre important to them than any other dimension. Years ago, I guess I was work-oriented and it was the thing that people saw. And the thing I could let go of was my prayer life because no one ever saw that and I wasn't accountable for it. I cou.ld go to confession and say I didn't haeditate that week and that wruld t~ike care of the guilt part. But I never made ~ny cofinectionJwith the rest of iny life. 192 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 As these quotes indicate, the focus on minist.ry and on the proper fulfillment of the "externals" of the religious role were the dimensions to which most of these women became initially committed. ,And, for some of these sisters, the ministry remained central for them well beyond the period of their training. However, while this was a key feature of religious life for many of these women, they eventually began to question the validity of this preoccupa-tion, and for some this orientation is no longer dominant in their lives. 2. Internalizing the Affective Dimension Kanter's second type of commitment was also evident at an early stage of the nun's training. For some of these women, this. involvement in community life coincided with their involvement in ministry. What did you think you were committing yourself to at that~time? I thought I was committing myself to ministry and to community life but not to a deep personal prayer life. I was still struggling with thaIt t.r.i.e. d to take time for it but more often than not, that got pushed aside. What was there about ministry and community life that made you want to commit yourself?. I just" saw goo~d in it. I saw myself functioning very well in it, being comfortable in it, not having any kind of desire not to be there. Some of the other nuns, however, found that a focus on community followed, in time, a commitment to ministry, and sometimes the tension between ministry and community would be resolved in favor of community¯ , ¯. I consider myselfa community-minded person; for whatever reason, ~ prefer working within the community., like coming to the infirmary and working right here with our sisters. I was more than happy todo that. I didn't find myself looking to go really outside of the community. (I. Why was that~ Well, I guess in that it's doing for my own sisters, primarily, rather than people on the outside¯ You are doing the same kind of thing but for whatever reason my preference would be my sisters first. Thus, while ministry may be seen as rewarding, by itself it does not suffice. For this woman and for others, it was and still is a matter of the emotional bond one has with the group with whom she rhinisters that is crucial. Where ministry can be judged in terms of rewards and costs, more non-rational considerations have to be used to judge the relationships one has with others. However, ~s was seen in the discussion of instrumental commitment, this affective dimension did not r6main as dominant for all the nuns. As the following quote suggests, this orientation is no longer as crucial as it once was. Commitment in a Religious Order / 1~ ¯ I really don't know how we remained faithful then. I'm sure if it was another type of community, I don't know, maybe it's because we're more of a family, you know, we feel for one another, um, and that was always our sister, and if you didn't hang in there because your superiors were no good, you'd hang in there because your friends were there. Your commitment to them kind of seemed important to you. 3. Internalizing the Normative Dimension Finally, the third of Kanter's types of commitment was also a focus of allegiance for most of the women during their training. This is particularly obvious in the way many of them had accepted the authority of their superiors during that period. ¯. 1 never felt pressured or stepped on or however people fed. I never felt that. I guess as I entered community it was something I wanted to do. or the Lord called me to do, so I did what I was supposed to do . However, while there were nuns who were very compliant, some found themselves questioning the purpose behind some of the orders. For them, willing obedience was built on an obedience motivated by a fear of being dismissed. Were there people in your class who questioned a lot? Yes, they are no longer here. In novitiate I was very docile. I was probably stupid. If they told me tO do it, I did it because if you didn't do it, they were going to send you home. ~. So you did it out of fear more than anything else. Yes. Yet I liked the days of formation and everything else, but if they said do it, I did it; and when we did it and thought it was crazy, we Used to laugh about it, but we still did it.°, there was no heart in it or anything like that, but we did it to shut them up and get them off our backs. Whether this emphasis on atithority and obedience was complied with willingly or out of fear, it had a dual effect in the training period: it seemed to focus attention on role conformity or the "externals," as was seen before, and it created a sense of dependency on the leadership of the community in many of these women. But in the minds of some Of the nuns, this would often translate into valuing obedience to the rules 'over the needs encountered in one's ministry. Let's say the mother of one of the children was pregnant and her husband had just kicked her in the stomach and kicked her downstairs, and she came to me after ~chool, as did happen once, and when I tried to share with her and show her a little sympathy, I got in trouble because I stayed over in school even though it was that type of thing. I didn't mind getting into trouble, but ! just couldn't understand that whole thing. And in those 1~ / Review for Religious, March-ApriL 1986 days, if she came again, I would probably say "I can't see you," thinking that obedience was the greater thing at that time~ While some of the evidence suggests that many of the nuns interpreted this dependency on authority as something they have left'behind, this is not so for all of them. Even with the much publicized changes in convent life, with the "loosening up of the structures," the importance of the normative dimension of commitment still comes through for many of them. As this following quote demonstrates, however, it is internalized dependency: The change that has been significant has been in the individual being responsible for he~'self. We still have in our community superiors in our local convents. However~ the emphasis has been on individuals being responsible for themselves, for the cbmmitment that they have made, for' living according to the rules and the constitution, for keeping the vows . B. l/ariations on a Theme . ~ Hopefully, the preceding exploration has shown that the women I interviewed responded to the demands made upon them in their formation years in the convent .in ways that the order wanted them to respond. In effect, they internalized the theme of religious life espoused by their order. This, of course, is not to pass judgment on the sincerity of intention of any of these women or on the integrity of those tesponsible~for their training. It is instead to recognize what most of these sisters have realized and what Kanter's model of commitment can help us to see: religious commitment is more than simply doing religious things. When attention is concentrated on the activity of being religious without an ~ffort at helpi~ng the novice to discern the place of these activities in an overall lifestyle, then the only result will be religious conformity and a commitment to the means established to realize a life in Christ rather than to that life itself. However, as many of the above quotes intimated, the story of the commitments of these women does not end in mere conformity. Most of the nuns found that by the time of their final vows or in the five years or so after final profession, t.hey had begun the process of perso~nalizing many of the practices they had learned. This effort at personalization took one of two forms: varying the order's style of religious life to meet o~ne's own personality and characteristics, or creating a style of religious life that was in keeping with the core values of that lii~ but no longer was solely modeled on their order's particular historical interpretation of those values. I would now like to explore the first of the~e responses which I will call "variant commitments." In the third pai't of this paper, I will examine the second form.- The term "variant commitment", refers to a more reflective response to 'Commitment in a Religious Order the demands of convent life than the conformist response did. The idea for it comes from another sociologist named Robert Merton.~0 Writing in a different context (but, nevertheless, in one that is still applicable to our purposes), Merton referred to people who were sensitive to the demands of their institutions but were willing to test some of the limits of those demands. He had in mind men of science like Pasteur or Einstein who were committed to the goals of science but who engaged in the kind of research that resulted in new ways of conceiving the world around us. In a similar way, many of the nuns I interviewed were very much committed t9 the goals of their order, but they were also involved in efforts to alter its style of religious living. Where their training had taught them to exhibit routine adaptations to the expectations of the order, they later became more willing to modify these demands while still remaining within the normative character of the community. By briefly looking at some examples of these variant responses in the light of Kanter's model, it will. be possible to show concretely the kind of changes that took place in these women, 1. Variations on the Instrumental Theme It will be recalled that in this dimension of commitment members involved themselves in the performance of those activities that hdped maintain the community as an ongoing entity. In religious life, one of the more important of these role expectations was a faithful participation in the liturgy. For sisters in training the ordinary round of prayer activities became part of the behavior of the "ideal" nun. By the time of final vows, these activities had become second nature to them. Following the Second Vatican Council, however, the order began to loosen its rather rigid structure, and local convents wer9 allowed to establish their own format for commu.nal prayers. This usually involved a group decision concerning the times to be set aside, as well as the particular style the prayer activities would take. In addition, there was also the expectation that individual sisters would develop their own schedul~ and forms for their personal prayer life. Thus, new regulations were made which allowed for more decentralized variation and individual freedom in fulfillment of the order's goal to develop prayerful sisters. The result of these reforms appears to be a more conscious involvement on the part of most of the nuns in this dimension of their lives: The .emphasis, I think, in the younger days was not on my personal religious or spiritual development, as much as it is now., the job is important but the prayer part of it is more important. Ifa decision was to be made that I would have to give up my prayer life to be an 1~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 administrator, I think I would give up the administrator part. I'm sure years ago I couldn't have said that. I'm going into my fifth year here, and I was very nervous coming here because I had heard about their prayer life~ But it's really been good. It's more spontaneous than at other places. Like we do the reading of the day, and then we share with each other what they are saying to us or one of us will give a homily. As these quotes indicate, within the overall values of communal and personal prayer, the nuns have sought to fashion attitudes and practices that reflect a more conscious appreciation for these features than was true in their earlier days. This consciousness in some cases was an attitudinal shift, such as the rededication of oneself to a life of prayer;'or in other instances, it was a greater willingness to participate in a variation of public prayer that had not been tried before. In'both examples though, a shift to a more reflective response is evident, and this allows for personal and local variations of a communal expectation. 2. Variations on the Affective Theme The second area of religious life to which most of the nuns can be said to have been reflectively responding is the communal dimension. On both a formal and an informal basis, it is expected that the members will participate in the affairs and functions of the community and that this group will be primary in each person's life. In the period before the Vatican Council, these expectations usually meant a high degree of uniformity among the order's members. In the years following the Council, they frequently have involved rather innovative attempts to develop a greater sense of camaraderie among local community members. This can be seen in the following instances which suggest a changing vision of the meaning of community and a willingness to put into actual practice what some have only been able to dream about. What is your vision of community? I would like it more personal, um, with small groups where there is sharing not only of your work but of your basic spirituality, your vision, and maybe with people that you could work it out with so that your vision could: become a reality. I think the great disillusionment with religious life is that your vision remains a vision and there's not too many to share that vision. We were pioneers. My first year in grad school and after that we lived in a convent and commuted to school. We used to pray together and just try to share our lives. We could do creative things like alternative prayer styles and a lot of sharing about community and about the Lord. Commitment in a Religious Order Of course, not all the women in the group were as originally so enthusiastic about this new style, as the above excerpts may suggest. Nevertheless, those who have tried it have overcome their initial restraint and now see it'as a more beneficial way of living than the older style. Once again, a relaxation of rather rigid structures has allowed for a greater amount of reflective expression and thus for the introduction of alternative approaches to a goal of the order. 3. l/'ariations on the Normative Theme The final dimension that exhibits the effects of a more reflective response to religious life concerns the commitment to the norms and values of the community. According to Kanter this commitment is demonstrated in the supportive attitudes members have toward those in authority and toward the ideology of the group. One of the areas in convent life where an important shift in this dimension has occurred is in the vow of obedience. In the days when the nuns I interviewed first entered and until quite recently, obedience to the "Will of God" meant, in fact, concrete submis-sion to what the s,uperiors interpreted what that "Will" was. Today, this submissiveness, while still expected on a daily practical level, is somewhat tempered by the recognition, in their order's rule, that all the sisters share a genuine responsibility for th6 goals of the community. This basically seems to mean that the individu~il sisters are left alone to freely do what is expected of them rather than have a local superior enforcing each of the rules. Naturally, such a situ~ttion leaves room for individual variation, both attitudinally ahd behaviorally. I guess my attitude is that this is not somebody or something imposing on me, or the constitution saying I have to do it, or I feel that my superior is going to say that you are not doing this or that. There are days, for exahaple, when I don't spend much time in prayer at all for one reason ~or another, because it's ministry, or I'm getting in at midnight and I can't function the next day. But ifI don't do it for a couple of days, I know it and I really.have to say, I have todo it tonight regardless of what else turns up, so that it becomes a priority. I think it puts more responsibility on the individuals for their own lives. Ten years ago the superior was saying no, you may not go. I think it places more responsibility on the individual not to maybe abuse missing prayers or Mass or house meetings or meals . . . there is a little more freedom and people are more relaxed . , . to be more responsible for themselves. As these quotes indicate, members are freer to interpret when a particu-lar rule should be obeyed and when it should not. Of course, this does not i911 ] Review for Religious, March.April, 1986 mean that they can or would do whatever they please with no sense of normative .obligation, Thus, the conscious choice on the part ~of~the member is to decide when there are legitimate exceptions to a given rule and toact on those exceptions. In the long run, however, the orientation of the nuns is to the normative expectations of the order. - ~ C. Creating a Theme Hopefully, the previous section has shown that the story of the com-mitments of the twenty women I interviewed took a new turn in the years after their final vows. Because of the changes in the formal structures of the order, these nuns were able to move from a rather conformist-oriented appioach to religio.us life to an approach that reflected more of each individual's perso~nality and needs. However, while this newer style was more personalistic than before, it still was within the definition of religious life as formulated by the order. Thus, it is still possible for members to be committed to the instrumental, affective, and moral dimensions of their community (albeit, in their contemporary forms) rather than to the com-munity's underlying purpose, i.e., to one's life in Christ. Of course, as I indicated earlier, this is not necessarily in all instances what has happened. Instead, it is to point out a continual danger in community life, a d[inger that some of the nuns themselves have recognized: structured behavior and attitudes, even when they are loosened up, can become a substitute for personal responsibility for the purpose of those structures. This danger and a potential way to avoid it can be captured more clearly by examining the second type of reflective response that the women I interviewed exhibited. Nine of the twenty nuns responded to the ques-tions I raised in a way that was somewhat different from the others. I have called this type of response "creative commitment." By this I mean a commitment to a notion of religious life that reflected the women's struggle with an appropriation of a set of ideals and interpretations that trans-cended the institutionalized approach in which they found themselves. This did not mean an outright rejection of their community. Rather, it was an attempt to combine themes learned from sources outside the order with the basic values learned from the community into a more personal style of sisterhood than the one in which they had been trained. Their involvement in the community, is now no longer predicated on the constraints the institution can bring to bear on them. Instead, since their commitment is to a vision~of what religious life can be, they have relativized the role that the community has in their lives. This rather abstract definition can be made more.concre[e by compar-ing some of the "variant responses" some of the nuns made to the questions Commitment in a Religious Order / 199 I asked with the "creative responses" nine of the women mad~ to the same questions. As before, these responses can be presented in terms of the model developed by Kanter. I. Relativizing Instrumental Commitment The first dimension of concern will be the attitudes of the nuns toward the role of a sister. In order to ascertain the overall quality of a member's role involvement in the order, I asked what perception each one had of herself as a sister. As the following quote exemplifies, many of the~s.e women have adopted the role of a nun as traditionally defined, ~that is, as one who is supposed to represent in a special way the presence of the sacred in human life. To be sure, they do not appear to be caught up with the prestige symbols of the role--the habit, the title, the little signs of respect. But they dowish to see themselves perceived as religious women, as part of a religio, us organization, and in this sense, the institutional role is important to them. How do you see yourself as a sister? That's hard to answer. I guess. I am living out what I think I am called to be, but I am not just living it for me. but for other people~ Do you mean what effect you have on people? ¯. Yes, like when people ask me to pray for them or for members of their families. I'm not just some fixture or some teacher. Do I convey the o message of Christ to people? Do I carry the name of (order's name) well, and what that community is about, or do I downgrade the community? In comparison with this perception, the following nun appears to dis-tinguish herself and her role as. a sister. While being a nun is important to her, it is not her whole self. This type of perception cropped up °quite often in discussions with these nine women. In effect, the role has been redefined from being a place in an overall organization to being a vehicle for allowing a more personal style of religious life to be expressed. What that,style is depends upon the individual and how she understands herself; but in general, it seems to encompass an effort to live out the central values of Christianity as these are being interpreted by contemporary thinkers. This woman's notion that "sisterhood" includes her relationships with whom-ever she meets is an indication of this redefining process. when I first came to the community, I saw a sister as functional, whereas now I see sister as a relationship that is not only to the people that I work with but it is. much more universal in a sense. It is me as I relate to whoever it may be . It's much more a sense of I am who I am and a good part of who I am happens to be a sister and what lproject is all of me, the totality of life. 200/ Review for Religious, March,April, 1986 2. Relativizing Affective Commitment The second area of discussion deals with the emotional ties members develop toward the relationships they have in the order and toward the order as a whole. The quality of these ties can be captured by the reaction of members to questions concerning the possibility of the order disbanding. While this is an admittedly hypothetical situation, the reactions of the sisters revealed their attitudes towards the community as a whole. For example, as the following citation suggests, many of the sisters see their well-being as tied up with the well-being of the order.~ Because they tend to seetheir lives as coextensive With the life of the community, these women can be said to~ have Committed themselves to the institution. What would happen if your community died? I would be very sad. As a person I think it would be devastating. I guess the charisma of the (order's name) community is important to me. I chose to belong to a group, and this group meant something to me. for whatever reason they became important. I chose to make final vows, and I chose to make it something permanent in my life. When this response is compared with the following one, however, a different understanding of this relationship is revealed. According to this woman, the institution exists to serve a need; and if it no longer can do this, then the nuns should disband and find other communities. This willingness to let go of what must be a home for this woman suggests a degree of autonomy that was also present in the other more innovative nuns. But this autonomy should not be interpreted as a cold independence from the order for-it seems to rest, for each of these women, on a distinction they have made between tbeir particular order and their understanding of religious life in general. In their interpretation of the order, it exists as a means to realize their religious ideals. Thus, religious life is always broader than the order's way of approaching it and for them it is their approach to that life that counts. I don't know exactly. I don't know if I would; then I would look and see if another group would like to get together to form something else, or if I would join another group. I don't think I would be upset. I wouldn't feel that my whole life has gone because I think what this community has done UP to this point has been very good and very worthwhile, and if it is not necessary, it's not necessary. I don't feel any urge to prolong somethin~g that is no longer necessary, so that would not bother me. Another indicator of the relativization of the order in the lives of these women is their willingness to look beyond it for sources of emotional support. While they.were in training, the community encouraged them to develop their personal relationships with their fellow members by severely Commitment in a Religious Order limiting outside contacts, even with members of their own families. Although these nine women still have deep personal ties within their order, they have also consciously developed friendships with others outside of that community, including laypeople. A couple of them have also become part ofqocal communities that are made up of nuns from bther orders instead of the more traditional, homogeneous units. Most of my really close friends have left the community., but it's not quite as dramatic as it sounds because I do have a couple of very good friends who have been very supporting, one who is married who has always supported me. Then. one who I'm even closer to who was in the community who has left. She continues to be one of the most supportive people in my life. It's fine with her that I am here; ~nd it's fine with me that she is there. How many friends do you have outside the community? I'd say that it's probably about fifty-fifty between people within the com-munity and people outside that I really consider myself close to. Four of us broke off from that larger grou.p because we are for'a simpler lifestyle, and we are now living in a house., the three of us from our order, one happens to. be the school person, and two of us who are in .other ministries and then the fourth sister who is from (another order) who is also in another ministry. That's working out pretty well now. 3.' Relativizing Normative Commitment ~ The third area deals with the willingness on the part of members to allow the community to control their lives. Over the past fifteen years or so, the order has loosened up its authority structure somewhat so that now the nuns are encouraged to speak their minds more so than they were in ~he past. Nevertheless, the ultimate expectations for many of the women is .that it is their duty to obey the wish of the superior. As this example demon-. strates, the notion that "the voice of the superior is the voice of God" dies hard. My attitude towards religious life, I don't think, has basically changed in the sense that I still fed that my superiors, those who are in charge, whatever they would ask I would accept it in the same wa~y I did years ago. I would question now, not saying that I wouldn't.do what they asked, but I would question it now. While the above quote demonstrates an attitude toward obedience that can be characterized as superior-oriented, the next citation reveals another approach to this subject. Instead of first looking to what the superior wants, this nun believes that one should first be obedient to oneself. The distinction is crucial for it places the sister on a par with her superior.and 902/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 enables her to exercise genuine responsibility for her own life. This is probably the most important characteristic of the innovative nuns because it seems to be that which distinguishes them most clearly from the others. Although these others often spoke about the necessity of being self-respon-sible, their 6rientation very frequently was to the community and their superiors. On the other hand~ the innovative nuns more frequently were willing to look beyond the institution for grappling with the issues of religious life and to examine any ideas in terms of where they might fit into their own lives, I believe in obedience to the Lord in tune with what is going on with my own inner' feelings, as contrasted to what I may believe in terms of the' voice 6f the superior although I don't deny that. I think you have to listen ¯. but I would say I would be more in tune with obedience to God; I would say that it's a little more,obedience to myself than I would say obedience to the vow or to the superior. Interestingly enough, one of the ways in which these women have sought to take responsibility for themselves is precisely in the area of the vows. One of the features that comes across very clearly is their desire to distinguish their understanding of the vows from the institutionalized ver-sion. This does not seem to mean an idiosyncratic interpretation of them that is divorced from what other approaches, even institutionalized ones, may offer. Instead, it seems to involve an effort to formulate a conception of the vows that takes into consideration what others,may say; but at the same time, ~it-attempts to create out of ,them an understanding that responds to the personal needs and goals of the individual herself. It should be pointed out that by the term "other interpretations" is meant sources of meaning outside the order, including the general culture, contemporary sourcbs' within the order, as well as the more traditional interpretations, whether they come from formal or informal sources. What seems to be crucial, .in any event, is the consciousness of these sisters of the difference between saying what others have understood what the vows mean and saying ,what they personally think they mean. I took these vows, but I thought. I'm doing my job, I'm praying, so don't b~ther me about the vows . !~ow looking back, I probably detached the vows from the life, or I said I have to take these vows in order to live this religious community life that I want to live. Now what's it like? ~ Now it's thinking about it and reflecting on it and saying there is some-thing more to this and I don't know what it is yet . I could tell you what ~ so and so says and what the books say, but personally., what do I think, Commitment in a R~ligious Order that's what I'm coming to. When you started to reexamine the vows, did you find yourself coming to a personal interpretation of them, or did you sifnply accept the given interpretation? Oh no! I made my own interpretation, and whether that's right or wrong, it's something l'm going to have to live with. No, I think it's my own personal thing . I have been attempting to distinguish creative responses to institutional demands from variant responses to these same demands. Hopefully, this has clarified the difference between the two. If 1 have been interpreting this material accurately, then a commitment can be said to be creative when the individual personally recognizes the primacy of her relationship with God in her life. That happens, it seems, as the individual assumes greater and greater responsibility for that relationship and the role of the order becomes more secondary as far as that relationship is concerned. In other words, the institution becomes a vehicle whereby a person can live out a way of life that she has created. As the following sistei~ asserted in ~ rather straightforward fashion, the order has become a means to an end hot arl end in itself. I say I commit myself to the Lord through this institution and I never expect that I will break that commitment to t~he Lord. I am not .always saying that 1 make a commitment to an institution: (I. Why no~t~ R. It's just the medium for me. Conclusions I ~began this paper by remarking that religious 9ommitment is often understood in a one dimensional way, as simply a commitment to Christ. Utilizing the insights of sociology, however, it is now possible.to see that religious commitment is a multi-dimensional affair which can often inter-fere with the fuller realization of a Christocentric lifestyle. For instead of a single focus on the proper spiritual characteristics of being a religious woman, this analysis found that members of an order can become more concerned about the instrumental, communal and normative dimensions of sisterhood. The result of this is a preoccupation with the means of religious life rather than its ends. Because this was a sociological analysis, it highlighted the fact that this preoccupation was, in part at least, the result of the order's necessary concern with its self-preservation. This does not mean, however, that such a preoccupation is inevitable. As the information concerning the more creative women has shown, it is also possible to relativize the impact of the " 2011 ] Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 social requirements of communal living and to begin to achieve the under-lying purpose of religious life. But to do this requires an effort on the part of the order to become sensitive to the effects its structures have on the spiritual journey of each of its members and an effort on the part of each member to be radically honest with himself or herself about the real con-cerns which occupy one's life in a religious setting. NOTES ~Marie Augusta Neal, "The Relation Between Religious Belief and Structural Change in Religiiaus Orders: Developing an Effective Measurement," Review of Religious Research 12, 1 (Fall, 1970), pp. 2-16. 2Helen Ebaugh, Out of the Cloister (University of Texas Press, Austin, 1977.). 3Lucinda San Giovanni, Ex-Nuns (Ables, Norwood, New Jersey, 1978). 4Rich~ard Schoenherno and Andrew Greeley, "Role Commitment Processes and the American Catholic Priesthood," American Sociological Review 39 (1974) pp. 417-426. ~Patricia Wittberg, "Transformations in Religious Commitment" REVIEW FOR RELI- ~31OtJS, Vol. 42 No. 2 (1985), pp. 161-170. 6Rosabeth Kanter, Commitment and Community (Harvard University Press, Cam-bridge, 1972). 7Ibid, p. 69: 8lbid, p. 69. 91bid, p. 67. ~ORobert Merton, ~Social Conformity, Deviation, and Opportunity Structures: A Comment on the Contributions of Dubin and Cloward," American Sociological Review 24 (1959), pp. 177-188. Two Forms of Consecrated Life: Religious and Secular Institutes David E O'Connor, S. T. Father O'Connor holds the chair of the Department of Church Law at Washington Theological Union and resides at Holy Trinity Mission Seminary (9001 New Hampshire Avenue; Silver Spring, Maryland 20910). His previous article in these pages was "Lay Associate Programs: Some Canonical and Practical Considerations," which appeared in last year's March/April issue. Th~ 1983 Revised Code of Canon Law in, canons 573-730 designates both religious and secular institutes as Institutes of the Consecrated Life. This is a new classification in church law, In its simplicity, it is open to some misunderstanding as a juridical oversimplification because, in fact, both types of institutes are very different. This may just be another exam-ple of the limitations of all canonical categories which are not capable of fully expressing the charisms and gifts of the Spirit to the Church. While the members of both forms of~the consecrated life do profess the evangeli-cal counsels of chastity, poverty and obedience, their lifestyles manifest two rather divergent forms of ecclesial dedication. The intention of this brief article is to explore some of the similarities and real differences between these two types of consecrated lives and to promote a better appreciation of the distinctiveness,~ the identity and the place each one has in the Church. Let it be stated at the outset that neither form of ecclesial dedication is presented as better or superior tO the other. While canonical religious life has been a recognized and important part of Church life for centuries, it has taken a variety of shapes and forms. Secular institutes, canonically and historically, have received ecclesial recognition only within the last fifty years and are still in the process of trying to have their uniqueness under- 205 906 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 .stood and appreciated. The new Code of Canon Law is a welcome and innovative move in this direction. It is a positive step forward in giving secular institutes the canon-ical identity and ecclesial status which they deserve. In canon 710, the new code describes a secular institute as one in which the Christian faithful living in the world strive for perfection in charity and work for the sanctifi-cation of the world, especially from within. Canon 607, §2 describes a religious institute as one in which the members, according to proper law, pronounce public vows, either.perpetual or temporary, which are to be renewed when they have lapsed, and live in common as brothers or sisters. A quick perusal of these canonical descriptions makes apparent some of the. differences between these two types of institutes. The members of secular institutes are to "live in the world" and work for its sanctification "especially from within." On the other hand, religious are to live "in com-mon as brothers or sisters" and profess "public" vows. These and other distinctive features of both forms of ecclesial dedication need to be more closely examined and elaborated upon in order to manifest the special style of consecration lived by the members of the different institutes. In order to facilitate this examination, a comparison of these two types of consecrated life has been organized under the following five headings: Secularity, Community Life, Apostolic Activity, Evangelical Counsels and Canonical Status. There will be, necessarily, some repetition involved because it is impossible to treat the distinctiveness of each institute without there being some overlapping of ideas. For example, it is not possible to consider the evangelical counsels as lived in religious institutes without considering them in the context of common life. Nor is it possible, to con-sider adequately the evangelical counsels as lived by members of secular institutes without examining them in the context of the secularity which is essential to the life of the members. I ask the reader to be patient in this matter as efforts are made to emphasize the genuine distinctiveness and special characteristics of each form of the consecrated life. Se~.ulariff. The primarY and foremost characteristic of secular institutes is that they are secular. This has been repeatedly emphasized in all the ecclesiasti-cal documents which address the nature and role of these institutes, from Provida Mater Ecclesia (February 2, 1947) and the Motu Proprio, Primo Feliciter (March 12, 1947), through the documents of Vatican II (1962-1965), especially ,Perfectae Caritatis,, 11, to the 1983 Code of Canon Law. It is "secularity" which totally colors the way oof life of the members and is the most significant characteristic of their consecrated way of life. Two Forms of Consecrated Ltfe/ 207 The members remain lay people or secular priests. They are not reli-gious ~nor are they expected to live in any manner which approximates or imitates the religious life.~ In every, sense of the term, they are to cultivate their consecrated secularity as ordinary people; living "in-the world and, as it were, from the world. "~ They should be involved in the social milieu and professional life proper to each member in the concrete circumstances of that member's place, time and culture. Indeed, members are to have a secular outlook and acknowledge themselves as "part" of the world and committed to sanctifying it from within) Hehce, the style of life of the lay members of a secular.,institu~te is that~ of a consecrated person living a rather inconspicuous and ordinary life, holding down a job or involved in a profession, while living alone or wi[h family or friends. Externally they will not appear to be different from any other lay person in a similar situation. Indeed, Pope John Paul II has encouraged them to develop their professional life and to be, at the level of Knowledge and experience, really competent in their specific field of endeavor.4 Religious, on the other hand, are required and expected by/heir own consecrated way of life to have a certain "separation from the world prpper to the character and purpose of each institute.'~ Obviously, this is expressed very differently by monastic communities and by apostolic reli-gious. Members of apostolic religious institutes frequent~ly find themselves immers~ed in the world with similar demands made upon them to have the professional competence required in their particular formJ of apostolate or ministry. Yet, at the same time, they may be more likely to think of themselves, while at the service of people and the Church,.as "being in the world, but not of it." Indeed, they are often readily identifiable as "Church-people" even if they are not wearing a habit or clerical garb. Furthermore, they often live in houses or convents associated with their ir~titutional apostolate which helps identify them as Church-workers. Thus their com-munity lifestyle and their corporate apostolate or form of ministry, in one sense, sets them apart and "separates" them from" the ordinary lifestyle of lay people. There are incarnational and eschatological dimensions" to the life of every Christian. However, it appears that the Church considers thai the incarnational should be especially clear in the Christian life of the dedicated laity and that the eschatological or transcendental should be-particularly manifested through the dedicated life of members of religious institutes. One form of the consecrated life the secular institute emphasizes the goodness of the world and of all God's creation (Gn l:3,1); the Other the religious institute emphasizes the radical discipleship of Jesus which involves some separation from or renunciation of the world (Jn 15:19). 901t / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 Community Life Some form of life in common or community life has been a part of religious life from timeqmmemorial. It is a clear requirement of the new Code of Canon Law.6 Members of a religious community are to live in a house-of their own institute with their brothers or sisters and under the autl~ority of a religious superior.7 This is the place where they conduct their day-to-day life and offer their companionship and support to one another. It is the place where they gather about the eucharistic table and pray together. It is from there that apostolic religious reach out to others in a variety of ministries and dedicated ecclesial service. Therefore, some form of commu~nity life has been a perennial dimension of religious~ life and presented as an ecclesial witness of Christian love. The common life of religious does differ somewhat fro~a community to community, and is radically different for: monastic and apostolic religious. However, it is a necessary dimension of religious life and one of its special characteristics. Common life is not a part °of the consecrated life of members of secular institutes. While some institutes may have, as part of their particular tradi-tion, residences which belong to the institute, community life is not an expectation, requirement or characteristic of secular institutes in general. In fact, it has often been positively discouraged as contrary to a truly secular style of life and an unfortunate move toward the imitation of a life approp-riate to a religious institute. ~ The secular quality does not permit of community life on the part of mem-o ~rs, even as an option. It is too easy to slip from the notion of a "group" life to that of a "com.mon" life inconsistent with the personl liberty and the vari-ety of commitments which the ideal of presence in the world entails.8 The new 9od,e does not require the administrators or leaders of a secular institute to have their own residence, nor is it necessary to have a house where formation programs can be conducted.9 Members of secular i~stitutes are expected to live as ordinary lay people, either alone or with their families, or in a group as brothers and sisters.~0 Diocesan priests, who are members of a secular institute, likewise, are expected to live as the other priests in the diocese. That is, they are to live in the rectory to which they haye been assigned by their bishop. There is to be nothing unusual or exter-nally distinctive in their style of life in the world. However, as canon 716 of the code states, the members of a secular institute are urged to share actively in the institute according to their own proper law. They are to maintain a certain "communion" among them-selves arid carefully foster a unity of ~pirit and genuine relationships as brothers and sisters. The constitutions and statutes of each institute should specify how this is to be done, but should not imply that cohabitation or Two Forms of Consecrated Life / 209 any form of common life similar to that of religious is expected. It is the obligation of leaders and moderators in the institute to promo.te this spirit of unity and an active participation of the members)~ Apostolic Activity The new Code of Canon Law succinctly expresses the manner in which apostoli~ activity is to be exercised by the members o

Issue 21.4 of the Review for Religious, 1962. ; ALOYSIUS J. MEHR, O.S.C. Community Exercises in Religious Life Introduction: The Religious Community in Perspec-tive The religious communityx exists within two wider communities from which it draws its own unique vitality and significance. These two communities--forming one kingdom of God--are the Church and the total human world. Both are immeasurably deep and charged with dynamism; and we cannot arrive at an adequate grasp of the significance of community exercises in religious life unless we see the posture of our own particular commu-nity within these two great communities which are great covenants, the covenant of creation and the cove-nant of Christ. The religious community, however, is not related to the Church and the world only extrinsically as though these formed some kind of background or framework out-side of the community. Kather, the religious community exists at the point of encounter between two great lines of force and destiny which are the Church and the world. Its being calls out to the total human Community from which it arises and in whose service it acts; and its being is a response, deep and creative, to the call of the Word of God. The religious community sums up, symbolizes, and is an eikon of the human community and of the Church. The religious community, therefore, arises from the depths of creation, from the depths of life, lost in the eons of the life's growth itself.2 We carry on the work of crea- 2 This paper was written for and delivered at the international convention on Crosier spirituality held at Maaseik, Belgium, July 24-26, 1961. It has been revised so as to make it applicable to re-ligious communities in genera!. 2 Teilhard de Chardin, The Phenomenon of Man, translated by. Bernard Wall (New york: Harper, 1959); The Divine Milieu, trans-lated by Bernard Wall (New York: Harper, 1960). Hans Urs yon 4. 4. Aloysius J. Mehr, O.S.C., is on the faculty of Crosier House of Studies, Route 1, Wallen Road, Fort Wayne 8, Indiana. VOLUME 21, 1962 30! 4" Aloysius Mehr, O.~.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS tion, converging, as Teilhard sees it, to a kind of world unity in which all things are synthesized into community,a The direction of the history of life has moved through phases of biology ("biogenesis") into the world of incar-nate spirits ("noogenesis"); and in the New Covenant this force is caught up in the moment of the Resurrection, present among us as a pledge of the final entry into the glory of the Lord (kabod Yahweh). Our community-being, our being-together (Mitsein in Heidegger's termi-nology) is thus wrapped up in the forces and destinies of life, surging on in space-time towards its fullness, the seed of which it carries in itself at the present. Moreover, our community-being is also wrapped up in the fulfillment of creation, the new creation in Christ who draws all to the parousial and paschal destiny of all creation--a destiny that is already sacramentally present in a community called together in the Eucharistic sacrificial meal. These are undoubtedly far-reaching and difficult themes the full significance of which will always remain inaccessible to us, lost behind the veil of the future and the inscrutable destinies of man in the divine plan. We must expect, then, that any discussion of the religious community must, in its ultimate significance, shadow off into mystery. We shall not be able to lay out the forces in us as problems which can be solved, here and now, once and for all times. Community-being is essentially dynamic: we, as men and as religious, are homines vi-atores. Our fellowship in God is an eikon--an image, a sign, a symbol--of the Church localized in our areas of concern, but the Church which is the people of God on the march (in via), creating (in/ieri) what we most deeply are unto fullness in Christ who fulfills all in all (Eph 1:23; Jas 1:18). From this viewpoint we are able to see, or rather to begin to see, the profound significance of community exercises. Community exercises are the historical and temporal incarnations of our being-together (Mitsein). There is a deep and vast need, truly an ontological need, a need arising from our being-together, for authentic community activity that emanates from the inexhaust-ible fullness of our being.4 What we are demands suc-cessive real-ization; our being overflows into our life. Activity, operatio, exercise--these are not on some pe-riphery of the real, bu~ rather incarnations in the fabric of the real world. Man is embodied soul and besouled body. His existence is incarnate existence, caught up in Balthasar, Science, Religion, and Christianity, translated by Hilda Graef (London: Bums and Oates0 1958). s Teilhard develops this theme in The Phenomenon of Man: ~ Gabriel Marcel, Homo Fiator, translated by Emma Crawford (Chicago: Regnery0 1955), p. 26. solidarity with the corporeal universe but transcending it as spirit.5 Human being demands expression; as in-carnate, it is essentially temporal, basically historical, realizing itself further and more fully in successive and authentic encounters with the real--in the mysteries of birth, death, conversion, sickness, and above all, love.~ This paper is, first of all, a re-investigation of certain societal universals--relationships of persons which are the anthropological, sociological, and theological binding forces which help to produce a healthy and fruitful com-munity. The term "relationship" will be used more fre-quently than "community exercises" or "community ac-tivities." This, however, should not confuse the reader. An activity has social implications and social value if it is a relationship to others. The fact, therefore, that we will not group our material under the usual headings like "prayer life" or "recreations" or "the apostolate" should not tempt the reader to conclude that we are not speaking of things usually thought of as "community ex-ercises." We will speak primarily about the unifying forces, the community-building potential of community exercises, whether these be a simple conversation, a rec-reation, the Mass, superior-subject relationships, pro-fessional relationships of instructors with students, or even the exercise of talent in a "private" way within the community. It would be wrong to see as binding forces only those activities in which all of us perform the same movements or say the same words. On the other hand, community and society can hardly exist where there is no mutual a.ctivity, no common involvement of all the members in some fruitful, meaningful task. Finally, this analysis of communal activities precisely in their unifying value views the religious community in its objective, intersubjective, and Christian dimension. Part I: Community in Social Patterns To an anthropologist7 a very significant characteristic of the monastic community is that it is a celibate, reli-giously oriented institution'. This is without precedent or parallel in primitive or preliterate culture. In general, as the society becomes progressively complex,, certain indi-a Von Balthasar .develops this theme in his book Science, Religion, and Christianity. e Gabriel Marcel, The Philosophy O] Existence, translated by 4. Manya Harari (New York: Philosophical Library, 1949)', p. 6. 7The Reverend Alphonse Sowada, OiS.C., received his master's degree in anthropology from the Catholic University of America, Community Washington, D.C., in the spring o[ 1961. In an interview with the Exercises Reverend Ronald Kidd, O.S.C., he initiated in outline form the following analysis of the monastic community based, on anthropo-logical procedure. Father Sowada is'presently working in the New Guinea Mission, VOLUME 21, 1962 3O3 ÷ ÷ ÷ Aloysius Mehr, O$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 3O4 viduals are set aside solely for religious activity. Hence the phenomenon even of the Israelitic priestly office, given to the tribe of Levi, suggests a somewhat highly developed social complexus. Furthermore, sexual prac-tices become restricted for religious specialists only in civilized, cultured society. The religious community, com-bining both factors, arises only late in the development of a people. This unique development suggests various problems: a separation from the elemental and primitive social binding forces, perhaps a tendency towards over-com-plexity and hyper-specialization, in general, a danger of an ever greater artificiality. Man-to-Nature Relationships The ecological system comprises the sum total of the man-to-nature relationships in a given social organiza-tion. It comprises all the activities by which these people make a living--how they satisfy their elemental needs from nature. Thus, the supplying of food, the manufac-ture of clothing, the realm of technology, and attendant organizations and belief are .elements in an ecological system. In primitive societies, these are the concern of everyone; social organizations and belief patterns (treated in the following sections of this paper) arise from this common involvement in wresting an existence from na-ture. The ecological system forms the foundation for the actual social forms of the people. In the religious community, participation in this basic, elemental social activity is often frustrated. The general pattern is the specialization of ecological functions; they are more often than not entrusted to a few--the prior,,;, procurators, and other superiors. As a result, the remain-ing members of the community lack this elemental bind-ing force with one another and with the community as a whole. This can easily lead to frustration, complacency, and eventually create parasites within the community, In this connection it should be noted that the work of those religious who are engaged in manual labor almost exclusively is much more in line with the needs expressed in an ecological system, provided that they are truly a part of the community in which and for which they work. In order to utilize this natural, social binding force, these religious must feel themselves solidly within the whole community. They should experience the same satisfaction that the son or daughter enjoys when they begin to co-operate with their parents in providing a livelihood for the family. The social bindings formed by the ecological system are intense and deep. For the clerical and teaching members of a community, there is also a need for an acceptable way either to fulfill this function or to find an adequate substitute. The apostolate might seem like a perfect substitute. But in the apostolate the results are apt to be too far distant for the immediate kind of satisfaction caused by common involvement in providing the basic necessities of life. In fact, where superiors or subjects try to make' apostolic work an "acceptable" sublimation, the very 'remoteness of results can tend precisely to create further frustration and complacency. '~ In general, any project in which personal initiative is called into play within and for the community and in which a sense of fulfillment can be forthcoming ~can be used as a substitute. Such projects are of great value in binding together the religious,community. Stress should be placed°especially on the matter of results; for example, graduation, profession, and ordination days should be planned wisely to be days of community joy in accom-plishment rather than of relief in being through with tedious work. Although effective substitutes depend on both subjects and superiors, it is the superiors, above all, who must see the absolute need for them. Individual ~religious may have the initiative to make valuable .suggestions, but :the only person who can integrate these suggested projects into the community and give them their full social force is ,the superior. Without due attention, the community moves towards increasingly artificial social forms, lacking and attempting to substitute for, the basic level of social solidarity. In order to have a healthy community, we must find effective and meaningful substitutes. Man-to-Man Relationships Next, we deal with interpersonal relationships, en-compassing social ability and practice, questions of status and hierarchy in the communal organization, questions of law regulating interpersonal behavior, family orienta-tion, pressure groups, informal and formal groupings. This is the area of personal response and personal: activ-ity~ phenomena that vary with,each individual. Consid-eration of the interpersonal relationships are of 'utmost importance in analyzing the social structure of a com-munity; they form the operative and dynamic structure of society. Perhaps the most evident charact~eristic of interpersonal relations within the religious community is its thorough structure ot control. First of all, everyone knows every-one else and every individual can control his response thereby. Moreover, the social control within our unique form of community is almost familial or patriarchal. This is a good basis for developed social organization. In a healthy community a person is a part of things, 4. + + Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 305 ÷ Aloysim OM.e~h.Cr., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS he knows what is expected of him, he is not bewildered or lost within the crowd. He is at home, he knows how to approach everyone else, he knows how to regulate topics of conversation, to account for individual differ-ences, to accept the particular interests of the other mem-bers of the religious society. He enjoys that ecce quam bonum feeling which is a natural result of being [ul_ly ac-cepted by the group. He belongs to them, uncondition-ally; they are happy to have him and would be distressed at losing him. As. a further consequence, he feels shel-tered, contented, and can gradually abandon all his poor little defensive mechhnisms as well as the defects of. char-acter which necessitate them. All his potential gifts can flower, he can. give himself up confidently to his most generous aspirations. Such. :are the blessings which accrue to an individual who lives in a healthy group definitely ready to accept him.s There are, however, definite dangers in our communal make-up. The first and perhaps most serious danger is that of artificiality--artificially controlled responses. To the extent that responses become too automatic, too pat, too set, too taken-for-granted, the very situation which ought to promote solidarity could conceivably destroy it. Responses must be genuine; meaningless responses are detrimental to community. The artificiality of community llfe can be much re-lieved by warm parental and fraternal relationships be-tween superiors and subjects, instructors and students, and, above all, between equals. This fosters the character formation that ordinarily occurs within the family. Con-sequently, everyone must take his role in community seriously; he must be open, understanding, sympathetic, and avoid meaningless responses and inflexibility policy in the name of functional efficiency. Professors ought to be aware of the fact that attitudes built up by personal relationships with students are as important as the material being taught. On the other hand, students must realize that they have much to learn and that their attitude towards their instructors is extremely important. Entering. into dialogue is always a two way street. Within the community deep and authentic friendships should be fostered, for personality grows in proportion as it is opened to others. Fear of friendship shatters munity and leaves only a group of isolated introverts living in the same building. Mistaken notions of partic, ular friendship have forced many a religious to lead an unnecessarily lonely life. Authentic friendship means that I am genuinely con-e Communal Lile, translated by a Religious of the Sacred Heart (Westminster: Newman, 1957), p. 267. cerned with my neighbor as a person. When interest is only pretended, people instinctively feel that they are be-ing treated, not as human beings, but as a case, an object, an It. Make-believe interest, pharisaical interest does more harm than good. Every Christian, and certainly every religious, should be conscious of the manyreasons why he should be deeply and genuinely interested in his neighbor in all places and at all times. Another danger in our communal make-up presents it-self where subjects refuse to cooperate with their supe-rior, or where incapable men are invested with status-power. In primitive tribes, subjects who refuse to work with their superior are simply eliminated. Moreover, a leader who blunders in personal relations or in tribal projects, for example, failing to bring off a hunting raid successfully, loses prestige ipso facto. But in our com-munity, the social status of the members is not easily changed. This has its advantages and disadvantages. More permanent social relationships can be formed so as to .give the individuals a greater security and to give the social order a basic stability. On the other hand, where poor relat!onships are formed, this situation too tends to perpetuate itself. Overspecialization is another factor which endangers solidarity in a community. Anthropologists distinguish between diversification, which can lead to mutual de-pendence and promote solidarity, and specialization, in which a member withdraws himself from the community in order to devote his time and energies to some partlc-ular field. In primitive societies, specialists share perforce a vast number of tribal interests: the medicine man is interested in the buffalo hunt and thereby enjoys a social binding to the hunters; he is involved in wars and raids since his status to some extent depends on a perpetuation of the present social organization. In general, in primitive cul-tures, bindings between religious functions and the re-mainder of tribal functions are very strong. But when society develops, it tends to free itself more and more from nature (the ecological system); and it does so only to become more and more dependent upon man and man-to-man relations. This dependence must serve as a constructive and not a destructive force. In order to prevent diversification--which is absolutely necessary in a complex society--from becoming special-ization, we must manifest and recognize on a community level our mutual dependence; for example, the very real dependence of one teacher upon all the others. Here we see the importance of faculty meetings in which the par-ticular field of competence of one person is seen as com-plementing that of another. There are many ways of Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 196Z ÷ ÷ ÷ Aloysius Mehr~ O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS keeping different interests and fields of competence from becoming divisive. Perhaps greater stress should be placed on the apostolate as a community apostolate, a common effort, accomplished in different ways by each individual, but without thereby becoming any less communal in in-spiration, motivation, and reality. An awareness of our mutual dependence is absolutely necessary for the proper integration of personal activity towards our social goals. Interpersonal relationships in the religious community include not only individual-to-individual relations but also those of groups.-A formal grouping is one which is established de [acto and is recognized by the society as exercising a certain control of the whole. Chapters, councils, a faculty, special committees for accreditation, and so forth are all formal groupings. Informal groupings are not officially set up or estab-lished. We see examples of informal groupings during common recreation periods or when some religious work together informally as a group. Informal groupings can at times exercise more influence than the formal group-ings; that is especially true if the formal groupings are inoperative or if the i.nterrelationships between formal groupings is neglected. It is in the informal groupings that public opinion is formed and in many cases social innovation begins. The informal groupings should pro-vide much of the initiative and dynamism necessary for any society to be alive, to grow and develop, and to keep in touch with the members and their real needs and as-pirations. While informal groupings are very important, formal groupings are even more important in a religious com-munity; ours is by its nature a hierarchical society, and one strongly so. Therefore the effective functioning of our formal groupings is especially important for the vi-tality of the entire community. Inoperative formal group-ings, or artificiality in formal ,groupings, invites seg-mentation of the society, then disintegration, and finally demoralization. The history of the American Indian is an extreme case of precisely this. Factors leading to inoperative formal groupings are many. Among them are age differences, lack of precise definitions of ideals, and immaturity. For a well-function-ing community, superiors-,must be willing to present straightforward proposals to their councils or others' whose advice they are to seek. This means the full pres-entation of real cases that involve discussion and choice, not simply decisions for'ratification.9 In short, he must seek to collaborate. Also, he must have the humility and wisdom to consider minority positions; seeking support Ibid., pp. 270-273. only in numbers infallibly excites mistrust, resentment, opposition, or utter indit~erence. "The prudent and most efficient thing for the superior to do is to make the group share, from the beginning, in the common task.''1° Cooperation between formal and informal groupings is of the essence in achieving a healthy, vital c0mmufiity. This means that we must understand the roles which these groups are to play within, the community. More-over, since the religious community is so strongly hier-archical and the superior tO a large extent controls the interrelationships between formal and informal group-ings, he should be doubly alert, astute, and comprehend-ing in regard to the ideas generated in the informal groupings.Suspicion on the part of a superior is harmful to the vitality of the community, kills personal initiative, and tends again to artificial substitutions and the seg-mentation of the community fabric. But beyond this a superior must have the ability to select appropriate ideas from the informal groupingsmthose ideas which will prove beneficial to the community. It is difficult to re-spect a superior who accepts every suggestion that is of-fered to him or proves that he does not have the ability to choose well. In a primitive society he would in that eventuality lose status. Man-to-Ideals Relationships Under this heading we find community purpose and sense of purpose. In primitive society religion ferments the whole society. And certainly community goals, re-ligious ideals, can and should be important unifying fac-tors in a religious community. It is worthy of note here that in primitive ~ociety where the satisfying of the basic needs has such a prominent role, the upper echelons tend to have the same ideals as those of lower status, the .young as the old, the specialists as those engaged in community projects. When the eco-logical needs become less urgent and the man=to-man relationships more important, it becomes more difficult for all to have the same ideals. But the religious commun-ity should be able to realize this unity of ideals in a way that other communities in contemporary life cannot. In a religious community we-ness will tend to be established by living according to a unique set of ideals--provided the ideals are well defined. Our fellowship, as we will see later, is a unique fellowship in Godl For social vitality and solidarity, it is better to define ideals clearly and energetically and then, as the need arises, to modify them than not to define them at all or to define .them haphazardly or casually. Searching for Ibid., p. 270. 4" 4" CEoxm~misuensity VOLUME 21, 1962 309 4. 4. dloysius OM.Se.hCr,., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ideals has little social result. Without well-defined, known, and accepted objectives, ideals will be fashioned individually and in groups; this leads directly to com-munity segmentation. In this situation, the very factors which in a healthy social organization cause solidarity and vitality have the el~ect instead of segmenting the community. Ideals must and will be formed. If the proper formal grouping will not define them, it is inevitable that informal groupings will attempt to fill this lack. Community goals and ideals, however, cannot be al-lowed to stagnate. Once they have been defined, they must be re-defined as social changes and new needs make themselves felt. In this sense, it is only by innovation that society can maintain its health and well-being. For these reasons, our ideals require constant modification and elaboration to insure their continued adequacy for the very real and growing society which they both reflect and form. Furthermore, wise inter-group relationships constitutd community dynamisms and insure that the social structures of the community are truly alive and' changing--that the incarnations of the community ideals are true responses to the appeals of the era and the per~ sons, that the community continues to be constituted through history in its response to the Word, that its voca-tion continues to be authentic. It is in this context that tradition possesses real meaning. One group, which is n.aturally the most capable of really fruitful effort in this direction, is the meetings oE the various spiritual directors on a regional or inter-national basis. Undoubtedly much good could be ac-complished by regular and well-prepared meetings of these spiritual leaders in each order or congregation. Each meeting should consist oE a series of scholarly papers followed by serious discussion. Here again, we should point out the grave responsibit-ity of superiors. Upon their shoulders must rest a good portion of the burden of keeping goals alive and develop-ing with the community itself. But this responsibility can-not be placed solely upon the superiors. For a society to develop, all should participate in the re-discovery of old ideals and the formation of new. Community is a "we"; its responsibilities are no less communal than the end which they serve. If a religious suffers from abnormal loneliness, an anthropologist would immediately look for some need which is neither being fulfilled nor et~ectively substituted for. Where such a condition exists, the man is not livit~g a whole life; and attempting to live a half life tends to-wards increasing frustration. The only effective remedy in such a case, according to anthropologists, is the real-istic integration of our activities by directing them mean- ingfully towards the specific and ,well-defined goals of our community. Any notable incidence of real loneliness will probably reveal upon careful .investigation some rupture in the social structure of the whole community-- whether ecological, man-to-man, or man-to-ideals, More-, over, from the fact that our society is in 'itself artificial to a certain extent (lacking almost necessarily the deep and elemental bindings of an ecological involvement), we must be doubly aware of the other unifying forces within our community. Part H: Community and Personal Creativity ~ Patterns of social organization are vital, without the slightest doubt. Much. of our actual failure to realize deeply and meaningfully fellowship with one another in a brother-to-brother relationship stems from the neglect or mismanagement of the social structure of our com-munity. Yet the religious community---even considered only as a deep community of men--is not simply cre-ated by experts. The expert manipulates, controls, studies problems, and finds solutions; but his union with his tools and the particular determined purposes of his craft is extrinsic. We can think in" this connection of the over-organiza-tion of working communes as they sprang upsince the last world war. Here, everything is functionalized--all the activities are planned out, with time alloted on the schedule for religion, recreation, and so forth, which are considered as necessary means for overhauling the ma-chine periodically. When people begin to see their lives coincide with the routines planned for them, when they see themselves and their own importance diminish to the level of cogs in a machine, their spirits harden, atrophy, and wither. Life becomes less than free in the sense that activities are not flowing from the deepest levels of being. They become re.ore and more a number in a filing system. This is no doubt an extreme case. But we must reso-lutely resist the temptation to reduce man simply to an aggregate of psychic functions and forget that he is a living soul. In my relations with the men in my com-munity, I am involved. My actions should not tend to build a wall of separation between the me I know myself to be and others. Given the thorough system of social con-trols characteristic of religious life, given too a life that is frequently arranged by my superiors, the most common temptation is to avoid reaching out in true personal ap-peal to the other in all his unique personality, but to see both him and myself as [unctions--a teacher, student, cook, carpenter, Mass-sayer (a cog in a machi'ne can never pray), a procurator, or sflperior. The conclusion we have been working towards is this: ÷ ÷ Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 dloysius Meh~, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS community is not established by merely legislating laws, setting up a hierarchy of superiors.and subjects, or giving a dozen human beings a common residence. Nor can it be produced by a system' of techniques. Community must grow out of its members, for it is a highly personal gift of oneself to the other person in all the richness of his individuality. While techniques cannot produce community, they are nevertheless valuable in eliminating those things which could prevent community from happening; for example, enclosure within myself, being trapped, as it were, in a system of concentric circles which stand between me and my life. Furthermore, techniques are undoubtedly neces-sary for the effective accomplishment of particular, goals; for example, organizing a sports program requires some manipulating of people. But teamwork still remains a union based on something outside of the being of the other person;, while it may be a true degree of community, it is still not the fullness of human community, let alone: of fellowship in the word and love of God. "Community," Martin Buber .writes, '"is where com-munity happens.TM There is something in genuine meet-ing which extends beyond calculations, plans, and proj-ects. Just as my being is not definitely exhausted in any one particulai'ity of my life but overflows into promise and possibility,12 rooted in my existence and its destiny, so also the community is never definitely established, en-tirely a "given" factor, a.status; Community, the genuine union of beings, is created out of the depths of promise of my bei~ng. It is not pro-duced. Community is meeting; and that meeting which calls to the other from all that I am is essentially creative: something new happens, I become something that I was only potentially before, and in this connection I must think in terms of gilt or grace. I can remain open to re-ceive this gift of the other as long as I am not artificially isolated from my own being in a world of function; but somehow we are here in a realm in which the notions of cause and effect no longer apply with their full import--. I do not cause dialogue. Even more, in a very real sense, I am given to myself fully only in dialogue, in the gift of another self calling out to me, joining our lives in com-mon destiny and hope. "All real life :is meeting.''13 The energies of life become fully real only in community: [ am the possibility, even more, the promise of community in my most elemental reality as incarnate spirit. r~Between Man and Man, translated by Ronald Gregor Smith (Boston: Beacon, 1955), p. 31. '~ Marcel, Homo Viator, p. 26. ~ Martin Bub~r, I and Thou, translated by Ronald Gregor Smith (New York: Scribner's, 1958), p. 11. Hence community--and in a unique way, the religious community--fulfills a basic demand (exigence in French) of human being. The ability to say We, the possibility of genuine encounter presupposes beings who can love and give themselves to others, beings who are incarnati.ons of the spirit which man i~, a spirit embodied iia'spake.and time, in solidarity with the cosmos and the covenant of creation. The human spirit can be stifled for just so long--a time and a time and half a time of the Scrip-tures-- within the abstractions and reductions of a func-tionalized world which, we repeat, is a real danger in a religious community due to the artificiality and conven-tionalisms so easily developed in such a life. But in the well-chosen words of Gabriel Marcel, it seems, at least as far as man is concerned, tha~ even if life is weakened and in a way degraded, it must still retain a certain character of sacredness . We must accordingly realize, I think, that here we are faced with a~ certain absolute, and that this absolute must be assisted, however strong the temptation to resist it?' Man's spirit seeks the fullness of being, the fulfillment of its destiny.15 Even in the midst of degradation or open rebellion, the voice of his spirit calls out for authentic living. Rebellion is a call to another to answer my appeal, to respond, knowing that even if I fail, at least my call will go on being heard. Although many unfavorable things can be said about rebellion, yet we must admit that it is still authentic living. As Camus has written, "I rebel--therefore we are,''x~ In modern religious life, the danger is not primarily open rebellion. With us, frustration more frequently takes the place of rebellion. We begin with high ideals, but, after encountering many difficulties and meeting with many failures, it is easy for us to lose courage, to be-come despondent and frustrated. The principal cause of this frustration is the lack of understanding one's own abilities, strength, and weakness, Being frustrated, religious enclose themsdves within a shell of their own creation; they try to circumvent the full meaning of their vocation. Frustration is a flight from authentic living, and that is the reason why frus-trated religious try to escape and lose themselves in rou-tine or a ceaseless merry-go-round of activities. Here we see, or begin to see, the ontological.significance of frus-tration, despondency, and defense mechanisms--the psy- ~ The Mystery ol Being, translated by G. S. Fraser (Chicago: Regnery, 1950), v. 2, pp. 182-188. x~ Marcel, The Philosophy ol Existence, p. 4 a0Albert Camus, The Rebel, translated by Anthony Bower (New York: Vintage Books, 1959), p. 22. ÷ ÷ ÷ Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 Aloydm 0M.$eh.~r., REV~EWFOR RELIG;OUS chological and sociological ruptures which prevent com-munity from happening. It is in this context that we propose to re-investigate the three relationships already viewed on the anthro-pological level: my relationship to things, to other peo-ple, and to ideals. Creative Community and Things 1. Art. In our mechanized world, things are considered more and' more as means, even pure means (bona utilia), apart from myself, only accidentally and, ontologically speaking, haphazz'rdly coming into contact with me. Their own values are, for me, simply utilitarian. I fail to see in them the mystery of creation in which I also am essentially involved. Art, beauty--these are simply esoteric tinsel, luxuries for the functional man. In a way this man is only half a man, and hence only half himself, begrudging those energies of life with which his created and corporeal being is essentially in communion.,x7 It would be almost meaningless to tell such a man that his activities are incarnations of his being, for he has denied any essential involvement in this universe of space and time.xs When I live out of harmony with myself and the deep community of creation in which I am, which 'is my world, my environment, my ontological context, how can I truly give myself to another? Furthermore, how can a com-munity that is out of harmony with creation be worthy of being presented to Yahweh in the Eucharistic assembly as the sign of His pleroma? The famous American painter, Ben Shahn, writes: I have always believed that the character of a society is largely shaped and unified by its great creative works, that a society is molded upon its epics, and that it imagines in terms of its cre-' ated things--its cathedrals, its works of art, its musical treas-ures, its literary and philosophic works. One might say that a public may be so unified because the highly personal experi-ence (of the artist) is held in common by the many individual members of the public. The great moment at which Oedipus in his remorse tears out his eyes is a private moment--one of deepest inward emotion. And yet that emotion, produced by art, and many other such private and profound emotions, ex-periences, and images bound together the Greek people into a great civilization, and bound others all .over the earth to them for all time to come.1D Art brings into play the unifying forces of creation but' at a deeper, more subjective, and thoroughly personal~ a~ Von Balthasar, Science, Religion, and Christianity, p. 45. a~Bernard Haring, C.SS.R., The Law o] Christ, translated by Edwin G. Kaiser, C.PP.S, (Westminster: Newman, 1961), v. 1, p. 87. ag Ben Shahn, Shape o] Content (New York: Vintage Books, 1960), pp. 45-46. level. Lacking a developed and fully shared ecological sys-tem, the religious-community unity depends on other re-lations to our world, activities of creativeness, ingenuity, activities which produce "results," or better, activities in which my being sees fruition in the corporeal world in which I am. The point is that we should not i~eglect the unifying force of art, the union of persons in the beauti-ful, in the shared experience of meaningful incarnation. But the attitude of encounter with the beautiful is not limited to what we call the fine arts. If I pick up a chisel, it is simply a tool which I use to perform some task. Con-sider, however, the difference when a highly skilled artist or carpenter picks up a chisel. His work expresses him-self, gives himself to the community. Here we return to the general theme of these 'pages: df community is to happ.en, I must give mysel[, and not simply offer the other some service which I perform. In art--from garden-ing to the liturgical setting--I give myself, I entrust to the community that deep and personal experience of creativ-ity. In accepting another's art, we "welcome" him. To welcome is active, personal, embracing. I go out of my-self to meet the other, to invite him to feel at home with me. We cannot merely accept the other's art, whatever it may be, as we accept the result of an assembly line. To accept his art, I must reach out and take his work into my own life; and by doing so I take him, too, into my life. And here again we glimpse a moment when com-munity happens. If a community does not accept the beautiful, it neglects an important binding force--a neglect which will tend to re-appear in personal encounters. Without the proper at-titude toward art, even the deep significance of liturgical symbolism and expression will lose some of the vitality which it was meant to have. The community chapel, above all, should be a masterpiece of art, expressing community, proclaiming the fellowship in God which we are. 2. Play. Finally, we should consider more deeply the meaning of play. Perhaps play is not the deepest of the arts, but it is a true creative expression of man.2° Play is of its nature public. "Through play we find ourselves no longer imprisoned and isolated in our own individual-ity.'' 21 Play "is act in its spontaneity, acting in its very activity, the living impulse.''~ As a vital phenomenon or manifestation of human being, play--to be genuine-- demands a man in contact with reality; "only the vital Eugene Fink, "The Ontology of Pla}'," Philosophy Today, v. 4 (1960), pp. 95-109. Ibid., p. 96. Ibid., p. 97. ÷ + ÷ Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 315 4. 4" 4- A~oysius Meh~, 0.$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS being., can die, work, struggle, love, and play. Only such a being is in touch With surrounding reality and the total environment--the world.''u3 Humanplay . is a creation through the medium of pleasure of a world of imaginary acuv~ty . Play ~s always character, ized by an element of representation (something like the real world and its rules, but never degrading into routine). This element determines its meaning. It then effects a transfigura-tion: life becomes peaceful.~' In our own world, play is apt to be a highly organized, commercial project; and here again its mea'ning tends to become more and more functionalized---I play, not for delight, but in order to preserve physical and psychic health. If we would look for a moment at the primitive world, we would find far more significant contours: In the primitive times, play was not practiced so much as an act in its pleasure-giving aspect as is the case for those isolated individuals or groups who periodically detach themselves from the social group to inhabit their own little isle of passing hap-piness. Originally, play was the strongest unifying force. It founded a community quite different, it is true, from that of the living and the dead, the governing and the governed, and even from that based on the family. The community of play of primitive man included all the forms and structures of com-mon life., and it called forth a reliving of all the elements of life. This reached its high point in the community festival. The ancient feast., was a liturgical spectacle where man ex-perienced the proximity of the gods, heroes, the dead, and where he found himself in the presence of all the beneficent and dreadful powers of the universe . What was represented was nothing less than the whole universe.= Genuine play is extremely important in a religiou:; community. We will develop this point further in Part III where we will see that community recreation should serve as a catechesis of the proper celeb'ration of the~ Eucharistic festival--the Mass. Inter-personal Creativity: Intersub]ectivity Community exercises are significant only in as far as they involve an encounier with the Thou. This is the point, above all others, which we must remember. This is the heart of the matter. Divorced from all genuine en-counter with the Thou, community exercises are mean-ingless. In our very proximity, it is easy for me--because of routine, fatigue, and so forth---to consider my confrere less and less as a person (a Thou) and more and more ;ts an object (an It). An object is contained within itself, something which I can possess and manipulate. A person Ibid. Ibid., pp. 104-105. Ibid., pp. 105-106. is a being to whom I can call out, whom I can invoke, who is able to return my call, and in our response to each other create community. I can say "We." But to approach the other in his own unique being and destiny, in all that makes him himself, I myself must be a presence to him. Self-consciousness atrophies,, encloses me in .myself; we may be with one another physically and temporarily, but we have not yet realized Mitsein, that full union in love and welcome where deep calls out to deep. Without doubt, our lives and our encounters with one another tend to form stereotyped patterns. In accordance with our rule and constitutions,~l meet others at certain determined places and at set times. We are joined to-gether for specific purposes: prayer, recreation, work, in short, every conceivable type of community exercise. In a way there is constant community. I am very little in real solitude whether before God or before men. The students whom I teach in the classroom, the community for whom I cook or for whom I build cabinets, the confreres with whom I watch television--these are certainly beings with whom I exist; and even though I cannot speak of the re-ligious life as being entirely or ~even properly speaking functionalized, yet frequently there is something in the other which I am neglecting. P~r~haps 1 am polite and courteous: I smile at the other and laugh at his jokes; I try to understand his problems and offer him sympathy-- and still; perhaps, we stand more in juxtaposition than in community. But there are moments when this half-face to the 'world breaks down, hours of.grace (kairos.in St. John) in which the possibility of far deeper community is suddenly revealed. It is then that we see individuals in an entirely new perspective and their presence becomes more mean-ingful to us. A time of community crisis can draw us to-gether in this way, and we learn to depend on a confrere as he is, and not just in what he does---or better, what he does incarnates what he is. The world from which our candidates come has been well described as a broken world.20 This factor must be kept in mind while considering, the present-day prob-lems of religigus life. Older forms of unity have been gradually breaking down--the family, for instance, has been to a great extent replaced by the peer group, the gang, the more casual associations. Political and techno-logical unions have become strong~ r, suggesting a growth 'in world unity. But frequently, ~he new unions which have sprung up are on the impersonal plane; technol-ogy, for. example, unites the worlO" because cultural dif- ~ Marcel, The Mystery o! Being, v. 1; pp. 22-47. The title used for this chapter is "A Broken World." ~ 4. 4. 4. Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 317 + Aloysius Mehr, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 318 ferences do not prevent a person from working a machine; in principle any one at all can learn this operation. But "any one at all," l'on,.das Man, does not exist. What exists are real people, individual, free beings, irreplace-able in the solitude of their liberty. In those moments of human existence in which I some-how transcend the world of mechanisms, I sense another dimension which I know to be more basic, and more real. I sense that there is something in myself and in the self of the other which is immanently private and which does not lend itself to concepts or superficial unifying or binding forces; this is unique subjectivity, the deepest level of per-sonal existence, that which constitutes me as I, the irreduc-ible core of personality, the shrine of what is most serious and authentic in me, the theatre of my eternal commit-ments. It is this dimension of mystery which constitutes the great distinction between persons themselves. Regardless of how close two persons may unite with one another, something of the other's.subjectivity will always evade the other: he may become a Thou for me, we may even speak with full force and meaning the word "We," but the other is always profoundly other than me. The We is precisely for this reason a miracle or the grace that it is. We can never be like two drops of water coming together to form a single drop. I may give myself deeply in love and hope to another, but he will always remain absent from me in some way and this hbsen~e is what makes him uniquely himself. But it is of the essence to note that the other is dis-closed to me in his full contingency only in those situ-ations in which we are genuinely open to one another. I can hardly speak of the mystery of subjectivity--the revelation of the other--without speaking of the mystery of intersubjectivity--the mutual revelation of both ofu~, which includes the gift of the other person to me. Here; we can speak more justly and fully of presence: presencel reveals a human dimension beyond that of proximity or even of sharing an experience, and this is the dimension of full encounter, coesse, of co-presence.~7 Presence is in its deepest reality co-presence. The structure of this situation is one of appeal and response. To meet another', I must call out to him, or welcome his appeal to myself by responding with my whole being, and not simply with a stereotyped, pre-determined response. When I speak to another, the area of mutual concern may be a purely business proposition; but if I welcome him into my life, if there springs up deep sympathy in the basic meaning of that word, we Roger Troisfontaines, S.J., De L'Existence a l'Elre (Louvain: E. Nauwelaerts, 1953), v. 2, p. 21. are to another something more than a billboard which announces the time of a community exercise or an IBM machine that reels off information. The question he asks me implies his faith in my ability to answer--my ability to stand, as it were, in his place and understand his question "from the inside.''2s" ~'The question, anyway, operates as an appeal, a signal that may or may not be received.''29 The appeal reaches me in my freedom. I may respond by being, for all practical purposes, some sort of information machine; yet in t~he course of our conver-sation, he becomes something more than a "somebody." "That is, he participates more a~d more in the absolute which is unrelatedness and we cease more and more to be 'somebody' and 'somebody e!se.' We become simply 'US.' "30 This is not merely a psychol~gical interpretation of emotional experience, for realistically speaking, "I cannot really invoke 'anybody'; I can only 'pretend~ to do so. In other words, it appears as if inv'ocation can only be ef-ficacious where there is communiiy.''al Truly, I can speak the word Thou to another only Where community is re-vealed, and we speak the word We.m This deep dimension of human reality reveals me to m~self; in my.deepest and freest being, I find the mystery Of intersubjectivity, the mystery of our solidarity in the destinies of the human phenomenon and the covenant of'creation. Although the sharpest mani[esthtion of this ontological community of men tends to be the somewhat dramatic events--birth, death, love, and go forth--which break in on our course of existence?3 still intersubjectivity runs in a scale from, for example, the chance smile of a stranger from whom I happened to ask directions in a city I am not familiar with to the union with one another in Ghrist in the Eucharistic assembly. Thi(. is important for com-munity life; by holding myself open to the other, by mak-ing myself available, by my. willingness to welcome him, entirely mechanical situations like asking a routine per-mission from my superior can be illuminated with a bit of the radiance of the truly significant. The deepest moments of intersubjectivity can act perhaps as beacons, reflecting that, unit most clearly and fully. As I enter the religious liie and make my pro-fession, the community kiss of peace manifests beautifully the community which has been created in me. This mo- ~ Gabriel Marcel, Metaphysical Journal, translated by Bernard Wall (London: Rockliff, 1952), p. 21. "Ibid., p. 143. ~ ~a I bIbidid.,, pp. 114761. ~ Ibid., p. 303. a Marcel, The Philosophy o] Existence, pp. 3-4. ÷ ÷ ÷ Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 319 4. Aioysius Mehr, 0.$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ment, though past, can be kept alive, can remain a presence to me--a moment of deep community to which I bear witness in the day-to-day encounters. I know, deeply within myself, that these encounters, for all their routine, flow forth from the community which we are, the com-munity which must be ever renewed through the passing years in creative fidelity to the situations in which. I am given to myself as one whose life, in the religious com-munity, is a being-with. From this point of view, we can look more closely at the full meaning of the opportunities of our religious com-munity: The closeness in which we live with one another is dangerous if reduced to the level of the functional, but it can just as truly point out to us the heights and depths of intersubjectivity. Social bindings open out into onto-logical community. Religious community life is rooted in social organizations and patterns, but it exists on the level of the human person in his freedom. In conclusion, the activities of our religious life must reflect the deep fact of our community-being, of our being-with one another, sharing a common destiny, united in the bonds of true love in Christ, For the structure of intersubjectivity is in its fullness, the structure of love. But we must be willing to see the levels and the manifestatiom of this love dim from time to time, just as in marriage the union in love has its ups and downs. Nevertheless, I must be aware of my deep responsibility to make my-self what Louis Lavelle calls "accessible" and Gabriel Marcel "disponible" or "availabie" to the other. Marcel equates this accessibility with charity, and quite rightly so.34 This is the fundamental posture or attitude for any fruitful communication between men, a communication which means opening myself to the presence and in-fluence of the other, desiring this presence, and being will-ing to go out into something that is quite different from myself. The self-centered egoist finds it impossible to be accessible and available. He is incapable of sympathiz~ ing with other people or imagining their situation. "He remains shut up in himself, in the petty circle of his private experience, which forms a kind of hard shell round him that he is incapable of breaking through.''3G Handy rules for making encounter possible, while help-ful, cannot be used without the danger of taking up a position outside the encounter itself in order to manipulate both the other and myself.3e I can perhaps ~' Ibid., p. 15. ~ Marcel, The Mystery o/Being, v. 10 p. 201. a Dale Carnegie gives.many of these handy rules in his famous book How to Win Friends and Influence.People (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1936). The value of some of these rules is questionable because of their pharisaical tendencies. be more aware of what I cannot do--in summary, tO treat him as an object, as a somebody, as anyone at all, as a function (whether teacher., farpenter, or any o[ the categories that can substitute for the person). In dis-agreements, I must respect the gift, for the other gives himself to me in his ideas and intdrpretations; in com- ¯ munity we can seek not a Procru~stean compromise but a kind of common expectation so that together we can go on seeking the light of truth. Th~ very things which tear us apart from one another~differences in age, in taste, in talent, in personal history-~zan unite us, not in a collectivity where differences are ignored or frowned upon, but in a community of mu[ual understanding. Creativity and Community Ideals High ideals attract men; the. higher the ideals the greater the attraction. Ideals fire, men with enthusiasm. But ideals cannot be handed physically to me as, for in-stance, a book or the constitutions.' Ideals can be described on paper, but they cannot exist oh paper. They are real-ized only in free creativity at the ~ery depths of being. More particularly, the ideals of. a gommunity must be ideaIs for particular men. They must be possible of fulfill-ment in their unique life and in the unique situation which invites their loyalty andS,, faithfulness to them. Every religious must create, again and again, the tra, di-tions and ideals of his order or congregation .by incarnat-ing them anew in his own life. The passage of ideals to incarnate human life, to act and incarnation in space and time is truly creative, for it ~nvolves a full and personal gift of myself creating meaning. Bu~t this does not happen in a void, but rather in an encounter, or 'a revelation of what I am (in the community that we are) that calls forth my witness and fidelity. An e, ncounter means a call and a response; a gift and a pre~ence of another who confronts me in my uniqueness; a re'alization of the destiny which lies at the heart o[ myselL "In action," writes Teilhard, "I cleave to the creatlve~ power of God; I co-incide with it; I become not only its instrument but its living prolongation.''~7 In the words of Gabriel Marcel: We have to realize that there are modes o[ creation which do not belong to the aesthetic order, and which are within the reach of everybody and it is in so far as he is a creator, at how-ever humble a level, that any man at all can recognize his own freedom.~ In our context, this means that in my freedom I must ~ Teilhard de Chardm, The D:vtne Md~eu, pp. 26-27. m Gabriel Marcel, Man Against Mass Society, translated by G. Fraser (Chicago: Regnery, 1952), p. 16. 4. 4. 4. Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 4. 4. 4. Alo~$ius OM~e.Ch~r., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS respond to the unique religious vocation, which I have received from God, and that response is the truly creative assumption of the ideals, traditions, customs, and rules of my community. If I am to be a religious, and not merely act like one, I must enter into the living tradition of my community, see clearly the deep relationship be-tween law and reality (law in its deepest meaning in Christianity is the living out of our incorporation in Christ), and sense within myself the dynamism within the community, the promise of the future held in the hands of the present moment, the hour of trlal and grace. By translating the traditional ideals of my particular community into my life, I reach back into the very an. rials of history and, at the same time, proclaim that which is yet to come. I enter into living communion with the past and the future, with all who have professed, or will in the future profess, these ideals. Ideals seen in their' existent,_'al fullness are moments of consecration, joininl~ us with the ever-continuing history of our community. As Hiiring points out, History is to be viewed from the standpoint of the "now" in relation to beginning and end. The historic present reaches out into past and future. The past has its heritage which may be compared to the warp and woof of a rich fabric constantly redesigned into marvelously new and alluring shapes and formsi The treasure.is a summons or invitation, and a challenge as well, to the free will of man in the historic moment of the present.~ My response to this challenge wiaps up the rich her-itage of my order in the dynamism of my unique, per-sonal life, and.hands it as a sacred trust to the community, enriched, for future generations. By thus entering deeply into the We, and sharing together, feeling together in our deepest being the subtle movements and aspirations which translate possibility into act and thus tradition into life, and being into incarnations, I realize existentially arid not only notionally or rationally both the being which I am called to be and the significance of the union of men who have joined their own destinies together in respond-ing to the same ~hallenge. But just as we cannot understand man until we see his marvelous destiny, so we cannot begin to see the beauty and mystery of our community until we view it in its promise, in its dynamic growth and activity towards fullness. The religious community, as we pointed out in the introductory pages of this paper, exists within two wider communities--the community of life and t'J~e community of grace--from which it draws its own vital- The Law o] Christ, v. 1, p. 87. ity and life-thrust. In either Community, our destiny is not encompassed by the immediate projects, particular ends, or temporary goals. Our being plunges back into the dynamisms of created being itself; and in us the world achieves a certain completion of its own dest!ny. We are then a kind of particular and contingent, though nonetheless real, summation or symbol or eikon, image, of the community of all being. But the deepest values of our activity do not only capitulate in us the mystery of creation and the dy-namisms of life. As Teilhard would phrase it, ontogenesis has passed on into Christogenesis. Creation has been caught up, in its deepest dynamisms, into the new cre-ation, which is fulfillment, not destruction (Eph 2:15). As a community within the Church, and indeed its true eihon, its incarnation, we continue the forces of creation through the Incarnation and the New Adam into the promise and pledge of the Parousia (1 Cor 15:24). In this perspective, or better in this divine milieu, lies the true significance of our activities; we are bound together under a common cause which is as wide and deep as the community of men and as transcendent in its promise as the parousial presence in which life and temporality shall be consummated in the supreme en-counter of love. Seen in this light, we must modify our earlier thesi~ about the artificiality of the religious community. Adapt-ing Teilhard's terminology and the vision of St. Paul, we can rightly say that the religious community is an anticipation of a later and final stage of evolution, the unity of all men in Christ, the Omega point of historical being. This higher unity of mankind, which we an-ticipate, involves a center of gravity, a focal point, an axis above and beyond the ecological and physical. And what is this axis of religious community life? It is charity. The religious community must be founded on love of God and neighbor. This new level of mankind, as any leap in evolution, involves a definitive departure, a break from the lower stages even though it is their continuation, ful-fillment, and transformation.4° And yet, as an anticipation we are beginning to create the new within the old; this combination of the old and the new must involve sacrifice and tension--the death of the type as we pass into the era of the antitype, the dis-sipation of shadow as we strive to realize the light. There is tension and strain. Creation groans and is "in the pangs of childbirth" (Rom 8:22). Life is born through death. In our very community, creation is being re-capitulated in Christ. Christ is being born! The Divine Milieu, p. 86. ÷ ÷ ÷ Community Exegcises VOLUME 21, 1962 323 dloysius Mehr, 0~.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Part HI: Community in the Word The deepest significance of religious community exer-cises is not found in mere human encou.nter, but in the encounter with men in God. Religious life .is a charism, a localized outpouring of the Spirit of God, who fills the whole .Church, in such an intense and concentrated way as to bear witness to a particular reality which in varying degrees permeates the whole Church. Keligious life is not radically different from Christian life; rather it is the living image, the eikon, the type and inauguration of perfect Christian life. The perfection to which all Christians are called and in which all shall share when the Day of the Lord dawns is incarnately realized in the Church today by the religious life, which can be called the "sacrament" of Christian perfection. The flourishing of religious life in the Church stands an apocalyptical pledge that the things to come will truly come because they have already been realized living type; religious life bears encouraging witness to each generation of Christians that the life of the Gospel can truly be lived to the full now, into the fullness that is to come. Such a witness can only be the fruit of the Spirit outpoured in charismatic plenitude. Once the religious life is seen as charismatic, its sacra-mental and ecclesiological dimensions become apparent and important. Since the religious life is the image of perfect Christian life, the basic structure of religious life must be seen in relation to the strhctural pattern of the Church's life. The possible points of reference here are numerous; we will limit the discussion to two features of Christian life which seem to be most fundamental. First, the Church is a community formed by the word of God. Secondly, the Church is a community of sacramental worship. Community in Covenant The Church of the New Testament, seen in the con-tinuity of sacred history as recorded in the. Scriptures, is the fulfillment of that people of God which was in continual formation down through Old Testament times by the gradually unfolding revelation of the Word of God. After the fall, God's Word appears on the human scene as a call; God called Abraham to leave his people and his father's house for a land of promise in which his descendants would multiply until they became as numer-ous as the sands of the sea (Gen 12:1). When Abraham responded to the initial promptings of God's Word, God spoke again to Abraham to make a covenant with him for a mutual sharing of destiny down through Abraham's posterity, which would come into being as a result of God's Covenant-Word. Abraham's family came into being as the family of God (Gen 15). As the history of the family of God folds back upon it-self, the same pattern emerges in the formation of the Israelite people from the family of Abraham. The Israel-ites were called out of Egypt to hear the Word of God proclaimed on Mount Sinai'(Ex 3:16--17). Another cov-enant resulted from this new proclamation, a covenant which was again creative of the community with whom it was made (Ex 24:8). The Israelites became a spiritual community in becoming the people of God in the Mosaic covefiant. The pattern recurs again as each successive wave of revelation leaves in its wake a fuller, more spiritualized community to whom God's Word is addressed as a call and a covenant. There can be no doubt from the annals of sacred history that when God speaks to man He speaks to man in community. In the dialogue between God and man, God is the I who speaks the creative Thou to the community. In the light of the fall of Adam, this dialogue appears as a healing dialogue. The community of the'human race disintegrated in sin. It appears to be God's plan to build it back up again meticulously in time, .through the gradual revelation of his creative Word in a gradually more perfect community, until these last times in which He speaks to us by a Son (Heb 1:2). He is the perfect Word uttered in the community which in the new Adam already exists but which is still being perfegted. (created) and realized (actualized) in all the members of the new human race by the continued call and proclamation of the new covenant in every life and time. In the realm of salvation, man does not walk alone and he is not free to do whatever he chooses. He is saved in community by the healing Word of God which is spoken to and in the community which it itself creates. The inner structure and dynamism of the Church is to be and to become this community of the Word of God. Let us now look more closely into the religious life in terms of what has already been said. If the religious life is to be the type and the eschatalogical pledge of the life of the Church, it ought to be the flesh-and-blood realiza-tion par excellence of the community of the Word of God. It is here that the progress of sacred history toward the fulfillment of God's plan of perfect community ought to be moving forward to the last day when the perfect community of the cosmos will be reheaded in Christ and God will be all in all (I Cor 15:28). The implications of this reach deeply into the basic attitudes incarnate in the concrete circumstances of re- Eoxme~mc~uen$lty VOLUME 21, 1962 325 Alo~situ Mehr, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ligious life. If the religious community is to be at all, the breath--the spirit-~of. God's Word must be free to move through and in us. Through baptism and confirmation we received the Spirit unto the building up of the com-munity to the full stature of Christ.4x The religious com-munity must be the community of the Word of God, true to the pattern of sacred history outlined above: call, proclamation of the Word, covenant. 1. (Tall. We are accustomed to the idea of a vocation to the religious life. We must draw this out to its concrete conclusions. First, when God calls man He calls him to community. A vocation to the religious life .is a call to community. Secondly, when God calls man to a religious community, He calls him to be initiated into a particular religious community. This means that the candidate must undergo a true initiation into the concrete life of that community and that he must successfully complete the initiation: he has to prove himself ready and able to renounce anything and everything which stands between him and the ideals of his vocation, to accept deeply in his incarnate being the two-edged sword of the Spirit. The religious pre-novitiate and novitiate training ought to be for the religious community what the catechu-menate was for the primitive Church. It ought to test the authenticity of the call. The community, but also the candidate, must ask the question: Is the Word of God truly at work here? God speaks toman in human language, not in weight-less abstractions. Hence the family background of the candidate must be looked into to see if God's Word came to him through parents genuinely in touch with God by their lives of faith. I[ the indications here are strongly negative, the.stronger influence of less natural channels of God's Word must be evident. Because of the psychology involved in such a situation, the candidate's response to this call must be tested for its supernatural authenticity by a convergence of other factors indicating the working and direction of Providence with adverse circumstances. The following questions must be answered: first, hits the candidate attained at least the minimum strength of character, mental health, and social ability required for successful community life; for the monastery or convent cannot function as a rehabilitation center without in-justice to its other members. Secondly, does the candidate at least show promising signs of being able to respond to maturing influences that will be able to help him to ~ Eph 4:13; see La Saihte Bible de Jerusalem (Paris: Cerf, 1956), p. 1546, note n: "Non pas simplement le chrfitien arriv~ h l'~tat de 'parfait,' mais l'Homme parfait en un sens collectif: soit le Christ lui-m~me., soit mieux encore le Christ total, T~.te. et mere- grow to a greater measure of personal authenticity? If the latter is the case, one must investigate whether or not these maturing influences so much needed are actually present in the community which the candidate wishes to join and whether they will be accessible to him. ~This is only another way of asking whether this person,~who does seem to be called by God, is being called to thig particular community. 2. Proclamation. This has led us to our next point. The community has been called together to hear the Word of God; hence that Word must be. authentically proclaimed in the community. In the Church there are official proclaimers, messengers (kerukes), for this task: the priestly hierarchy. In the religious community, this responsibility rests primarily with the superiors. They must be men of God's Word. The Bible must be familiar ground to them. They ought to be able to breathe the Scriptures. God's Word cannot be spoken with authority except by men who themselves hear the Word of God and keep it. St. Paul's timely words to Timothy, the head of the Ephesus community, point out this obligation: Attend to the public reading of Scripture, to preaching., to teaching. Do not neglect the gift you have, which was g~ven you by prbphetic utterance when the elders laid their hands upon you. Practice these duties, devote yourself to them, so that all may see your progress. Take heed to yourself and your teaching; hold to that, for by so doing you will save both your-self and your hearers (1 Tim 4:15--16; see also Col 3:16). The central time and place for the proclamation of God's Word to the community is the liturgy. Everything within the range of possibility should be done to make this proclamation authentic. The laws of liturgical psy-chology must be understood and incorporated into actual liturgical practice. Also it should be understood that proclaiming God's Word in the liturgy is not confined to the scriptural readings but extends to the homily or sermon delivered in the assembly. It is a mistake to think that because religious do a great deal of spiritual reading they do not need to hear sermons. Faith comes from hearing (Rom 10:17). The Scriptures must be au-thoritatively interpreted in relation to concrete con-temporary events. Here the jurisdictional power of su-periors can be seen to be more than a matter of legality. Theirs is the charism to preach authoritatively and to recognize the authentic prophetic spirit in those whom they delegate to preach. In general, there ought to be within the community a real atmosphere of reverence to the Bible. This is mani-fested, for instance, in the handling of the sacred books. Dilapidated Missals ought not be found on the altar. Out-side of the liturgical assembly, the Missal should not be ÷ ÷ Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 AIoysi~s Mehr, O&C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS carelessly thrown in the corner of the sacristry but re-served in a place of honor, like the Blessed Sacrament and the Holy Oils. The same can be said for the Bible used for community reading during the meal, and to a lesser extent for the copy of the Bible kept by individuals in their rooms. Private Bible reading ought to be en. couraged within the spiritual reading program; but this entails some instruction in how to read the Bible, es-pecially for those who do not have the benefit of an in-tensive Scripture course. All these things are only ex. amples, but they indicate a direction .of attitude which must be fostered if the seed of God's Word is to find good ground to grow into a community. 3. Covenant. The proclamation of the Word of God in the community climaxes in covenant, an intimate I. Thou relationship of God with the community. Itshall be a continual burnt offering throughout your genera-tions at the door of the tent of meeting before the Lord; where I will meet with you, to speak there with you . And I will dwell among the people of Israeli and will be their God. And they shall know that I am the Lord their God, who brought them lorth out o] the land oI Egypt that I might dwell among them: I am the Lord their God (Ex 29:42-46). The intimacy of the covenant is best expressed in the Scriptures by the idea of a sacred meal with God at the time of the covenant. "Then Moses and Aaron and Nadab, and Abihu, and seventy of the elders of Israel went up and they saw the God of Israel . they beheld God and ate and drank" (Ex 24:9-11). The sacred meal will be discussed later. What is of moment here is that God addresses the community as Thou. He covenants with the community. He shares the destiny of the community, and in this way alone does the community become God's people, heir to the promises. "I will be your God and you will be my people" (Jet 32:38)~ The community has in fact been established by the progressive call of God through both Testaments. Or, to put it more critically, the concrete possibility has been established for the authentically Christian community to become to be, to grow in creative fidelity into being fully what it already is in the reality of infallible promise. Nor is the creative, call merely the point of origin; the call is repeated through and in the community of the Church to each generation for the divinization of every era. We are in fact inserted into this order of the Spirit; and by this very reality bear the serious responsibility of. hastening the Parousia (2 Pet 3:12) by a total effort to build community, to respond to the creative call ad- dressed to us, to assure that there will be in us a Thou for the moment when God speaks his "I." There must be real communion of persons who have an authentic, conscious, un-egocentric participation in the human nature and creatureliness they share in their com-mon flesh from the loins of Adam. There must be com-munity in which Christ is progressively becoming in-carnated and given being-in-the-world, caught up, as it were, by the Spirit and created time and time again in authentic response (possible only in community) to the liturgical Word. proclaimed now, as in times past, in liturgical community. Then the great Passover of Jesus from the Cross into the glory of His Resurrection~ Ascen-sion, and Enthronement can take root- in the world and create from our community authentic and supernatural Christian community, the Body of the Lord. For a man to enter the We :of the community, certain things must happen to him. For one thing~ he must have experienced encounter with other persons in the com-munity. This occurs on various interpenetrating levels. On the sacramental level, the encounter begins with his initiation into the Church through baptism and confirma-tion which are an encounter with the concrete Church community. In the religious life a further sacramental encounter is the act of religious profession. Think of the handclasp, the Amen of the community, and the kiss of peace. , Through baptism, confirmation, and profession, the religious has already met the members ofthe community on the sacramental level, the. authenticity of which meet-ing will depend on the authenticity of the ritual. This also means that he is ontologically structured for and pledged to this encounter in all its dimensions. Other levels of encounter which are basic to the we experience are the father-son relationship between su-perior and subject, the brother relationship between con-freres, the teacher-student relationship, and the more in-timate encounter of true religious friendship. A parish community is as strong as the basic I-Thou relationship between the husband and wife in the families of the pa.rish, since marriage is the effective sign of the Church. similarly a promotion of genuine I-Thou relationships within the community builds up the great We of the I. Thou relationship with God, as the.se experiences open the personalities of the religious to that common human nature and creatureliness which would otherwise be hoarded up individualistically by each selbcenter. The human nature and creatureliness which we share is a concrete human nature and creatureliness incarnate in the human beings around us, and it is there where it must ÷ Community VOLUME 21, 1962 32g ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS be met. Here we have the sensible, real basis, the sign, of the Body of Christ which is realized in sacrament. Another experience which conditions for and builds up the great We is the common sharing of a rich ex-perience, a going through something together, a com-mon passover. God made his covenant with Israel after the Exodus experience, after the people had passed through the Red Sea together. This experience involves the elements of crisis, judgment, and victorious issue. Once again, on the sacramental level, this is accomplished through the catechumenate and initiation sacraments of baptism and confirmation in which the candidate shares the Christian community's experience of the Exodus, of the Passover from the Egypt of sin through the Red Sea of baptism to the new life of the people of God. In the religious life a further sacramental or ritual sharing of crisis-victory is embodied in profession, the passover into the state of perfection. But this sacramental ontology of community on the basis of shared experience becomes incarnate in and is the fulfillment of numerous experiences undergone on other levels of life. Religious life can provide many ex-cellent experiences of solidarity through crises and vic-tories. As examples can be mentioned: working out phil-osophical and theological problems; a difficult community project such as the continued and successful support of a mission; a common experience of joy such as might be expected at ordinations and professions; the death of a member of the community; in short, any event which deeply affects the community. This solidarity in experience is not limited to events. What may be more important is the common experience of the presence of great persons. Just as the Israelite community was somehow bound up in the persons of Moses, Josue, and Aaron, and just as the Church is bound up in the persons of Christ, the Apostles, and the Virgin Mary, so the religious community is bound up in the per-sons of its superiors and leading figures. The superior must be a deep, spiritually mature person who is in personal contact with his community so that the members of the community actually have a chance to experience him and feel a solidarity in this experience. As fdr the other leading figures in the community, the more deep personalities God has given to a community, so much richer will that community life be as the solidarity in this experience broadens the horizons of the com-munlty. It is a corruption of a precious gift for a com-munity to consider its outstanding members as divisive forces or to make them feel like isolated individualists. Sharing the experience of encounter with a great man is one of the strongest bonds of unity there is between man and man. We have discussed some factors in the formation of the community We which becomes the Thou whom God addresses in his covenant dialogue. There is one other element of covenant that should be mentioned, and it is the sharing of destiny. God becomes involved in the community's destiny and the community is caught up into God's great mystery of salvation, the secret hidden from the ages and revealed fully in his Son, the movement of salvation history (Col 1:26-27). There is a movement toward fulfillment, toward Pleroma. Christ has already been established as the Head of new order in heaven, but his Body is still undergoing construction upon earth. The completion of Christ's Body is being realized little by little. It is a steady growth until the full measure of the perfect Man is attained. This fullness, Pleroma, means that in Christ harmony has been established among all things, that the universe is "filled b~ the creative presence of God."42 When this day shall arrive, the Church will contain Christ in his fullness. The Church will reach the stature of the perfect man (Eph 1:23), The movement .of salvation history, however, is not inevitable. God is faithful and will accomplish His pur-pose, but His people do not always respond with like fidelity, and He will not use force. If the Day of the Lord is to come, it is the Christian community, we, who must hasten it (2 Pet 3:12), we who must move ahead; and we are free to contribute to this forward movement or to hold it it check. If we should choose the latter, we would become like the Thessalonians who sat around and waited for the Parousia and who were upbraided for their pre-sumption (2 Th). The religious community ought to be an advance guard unit in this forward march, for it is by definition a place of perfection and fulfillment. This again points up the necessity for the proclamation of the Word of God in the community. The history of salvation is contained in the Scriptures. God's plan is there, and only those who are familiar with its patterns are capable of reliable frontier work on the boundaries of sacred history. Ful-fillment does not mean reckless lunging out in any direc-tion. Yet neither i~ it all mapped out in detail. Here the living tradition of the Scriptures assumes its rightful im-portance. The leaders of the community must be men who walk in the way of the Lord and meditate on His law. If we may say so, they must have a scriptural instinct, a Pierre Benoit, O.P., "Corps, t~te et pl~r6me darts les Rpitres de lacaptivit~," Revue Biblique, v. 63 (1956), pp. 5-44. ÷ ÷ ÷ Community VOLUME 21, 1962 .331 ÷ Aloysius OM.Se.hCr., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS a feel for the way God does things, and a contact with the currents of life in the Church. They must be attentive to the voice of higher authority and at the same time be aware of the prophetic movements within their own com-munity. They literally have to know which way the Wind --the Holy Spirit--is blowing. Community in Worship At this point lines of thought begin to converge: the Word of God, community, covenant, sacred history; and their point of convergence is worship. We may say that the community called into being by the Word of God in the context of sacred history through the intimacy of the covenant is primarily a worshiping community. What happens in Christian sacramental rituals? The Word of God, spoken once definitively in Jesus Christ, is spoken now in the Church community which is the Body of Christ, the real, glorified soma tou Christou, which is building up to completion. Ritual makes possible.through its pneumatic bodiliness, its symbolic or sacramental na-ture, the entrance by the commUnity here and now into the great sacramental moment, the primordial time, Christ's great Resurrection Passover, which stands at a particular moment of history yet transcends it, catches up within itself the vitality of all history, its direction and its completion. Here the Christian community whose task it is to move sacred history ahead, to build up the Body of Christ, is in contact with the vital source of the upward thrust of sacred history: the leap of the crucified Jesus up into the life of the Christos-pneuma. Covenant intimacy with God becomes possible in ritual: the I-Thou rela-tionship between the Father and the community comes into being in the spoken word and the meal ritual (or other symbolic act), in both of which, taken together, the risen Christ in whom we meet the Father is present through the working of the Spirit. By hearing the ef-fective Word together and eating the sacred meal to-gether (or doing the ritual action of the other sacraments), the members of the community pass together through the greatest of all experiences: the Passover of Christ, the primordial passage of non-being into being, of what is away from God to what is in God, of what is dead: sarx, to what is alive: pneuma. 1. Mass. In this context, the Mass, as the supreme Passover ritual, becomes for the Church and the religious community the supreme moment of covenant communion with the Father and with one another. The place of meet-ing with God is the place of.assembly and formation of the people of God. The people of God were formed to the Qehal Yahweh by communication with God himself. The community entered a covenant with God, and the effec- tive token of this covenant was the paschal meal. This reaches its fulfillment in the Eucharist where we become one people of God by sitting at table with God. For the community, the Mass is not just one of the de-votional exercises of the day, nor merely one of the "means" used by a group 0f3ndividuals for accumulating personal merits. It is first of all a gathering, an assembly of Christians, those who are of Christ. Secondly, it is not an hour of community meditation, but an hour of com-munity action, an event, a celebration. The act of cele-bration is important, for the event is Christ's event (here we have the true meaning of ex opere operato), and the community enters into the mystery of Christ by their ritual transposition of the action of Christ. The event is the Resurrection Passover of Christ which He Himself rit-ually transposed in the sacramental moment of the Last Supper and ordered to be clone in commemoration of Him. Let us examine these two interrelat'ed realities: com-munity and event. The worshiping community is not a priori, not an automatically given thing with which to work out the problem of celebrating Mass. Nor can the community be improvised haphazardly. It must be .built up by active and intelligent effort; it demand~ active con-cern and reverence for the laws of human acting. In fact, if the sacramental reality is to be accomplished, if com-munity is to be created on the supernatural level, the sacramental signs must be authentic. As St. Thomas has told us: the sacraments signify what they cause and cause only insofar as they signify,aa This highlights the necessity for catechesis: instruction, explanation, acclimatization--initiation into the reality of the community and the event. Catechesis is a psy-chological necessity because words and actions must be significant. The Bible and the ritual must be understood by the community. Cathechesis is accomplished both by systematic instruc-tion and by the actual celebration authentically done. We have already spoken of some things that can be done out-side the celebration regarding the catechesis of the Bible. A suggestion or two concerning the cathechesis of the ritual outside the celebration may slip into what fol-lows by an occasional convenient parenthesis, but what we are primarily interested in here is .the ca-thechesis that occurs within the celebration of Mass itself. No matter how much formal instruction we have about the Mass, we can come to learn the Mass only by doing the Mass. Actions must be learned from within, by doing. No matter how many books we read about how Summa Theologiae, 3, q. 62, a. 1, ad I. + + + ommunit~ Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 ÷ ÷ ÷ Aloysius Meh¢, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ,334 to study or how to play tennis, we will never really have learned these activities until we have entered into them. Catechesis must adapt the celebration of the Mass to the psychological climate of the assembly. This, of course, must be done within the limit of the laws of the Church. We do not, for instafice, simply "adapt" our celebration into the vernacular, despite the fact that this might be an excellent cathechetical move, one to be hoped, prayed and worked for through legitimate channels. But there is much to be done within the limits of the present rubrical framework. Let us begin with the community itseff. We can talk the idea of community to people until the Parousia, and it will not create community. A Christian community has to be built up by the celebration of Mass itself. The daily conventual Mass is a summons to enter deeply into com-munity. The community must experience community. Community is indeed where community happens. In the primitive Church there were at first no Catholic schools to teach the idea of community. Community was built up through worship, a worship that took into account the concrete conditions of the lives of the faithful. One of these basic concrete conditions is the bodiliness of men. Body is intrinsic to human personality. Man not only has a body, but also is a body. As we have already seen, man is a spirit incarnate in a body which is its epiphany, its revelation, its sign. And to come to the point here, it is through his body that man is part of the community of the race of Adam 'and through his body that he enters into conscious contact with the community. It is the role of good catechesis to create a sensible at-mosphere of community. It is especially when brethren gather around the altar that they ought to get that ecce quara bonum feeling. What can be done toward this? First of all, there have to be people there. And they ought to be there for the Mass. If I sit down to eat a meal with someone and he insists on reading the paper, I do not feel that he is really with me. Likewise, if the man next to me at Mass is "getting his meditation in" or "getting through his Office," the sense of community i~ being broken down. This does not mean that everyone at Mass has to be doing the same thing, for there are many liturgies or works to be done at the one great liturgy: the celebrant, the choir, the schola, the altar ministers, the organist, the choir director--all have their own work to contribute to th~ whole. But there must be that sense of the whole to which all are contributing. All present must feel that "we came here to do the Mass." The importance of this, I think, is felt instinctively even by those who close themselves up in a meditation book at Mass: they stand, sit, and kneel with the community. This at least is better than nothing, but it is for from the ideal. Akin to this is the practice of having "a Mass going on" in church when the community has come there to do something else. One picks up the habit of not becoming distracted by the Mass. Not only does this dull ofie's abil-ity to participate at other times when he is supposed to, but such a psychologically unsound practice of not doing what you are doing, on the basic religious level, has a disintegrating effect on the total personality and shows up in other activities. The desire to "get in an extra Mass" may proceed from sincere devotion, but it some-what misses the point. Whenever the Mass is used as a background or as something that is secondary, its signifi-cance (which is of prime importance in the sacramental realm) is greatly lessened (I do not say completely ab-sent); this lessening of significance breaks down the au-then. ticity of the ritual, hence its effectiveness. But in the Mass-and-something-else situation, it is not only the Mass that suffers. When two community exercises which de-mand full attention are combined, neither is able to have any depth. The sense of community at Mass is also built up by the alertness and freshness of the presence of the participants. This means that those who plan to attend Mass in the morning ought io feel it their responsibility to get enough sleep the night before to enable them to be attentive to one another and to the sacred actions. It also means that Mass should not be scheduled to be done after a marathon of spiritual exercises has just about exhausted the normal capabilities of a man to do the intensive work which good praying demands. Another important contribution to the sense of com-munity is the very structure of the church building. People at Mass ought to be able to see the altar and to see each other. They must be able to feel close to one another and not to feel oppressed by one another. Their place in church ought to be related to their role at the Mass. They ought to be able to feel together in the pres-ence of God. These problems have to be worked out on the architectural level by those competent in the field. The furnishings of a church must be such as not to distract from the main purpose of the building. The com-munity ought not to be pulled in all directions by a penny arcade of devotional concession stands. This does not mean elimination of statues from the church, but it does mean an integration of all furnishings into the main-stream of attention. This must be done by the planning of skillful designers, not by a mere process of accumula-tion. ÷ ÷ ommunlty Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 335 4. ÷ 4. Aloy~ius Mehr, 0.$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 336 The celebrant, too, has his role to play in creating a sense of community. He must realize his role as the leader of the community, as one who acts in their name, and must by his very actions sweep up the community .into participation with him. Hemust understandthat not all parts of thd Mass are equally important, and he must learn how to emphasize the important parts with the proper gestures and tone of voice, and not to monopolize the attention of the community when what he is doing is not the main thing going on, especially when the choir is singing. His gestures must be authentic. When he greets the people, there should be contact, and he should wait for their response. When he proclaims the Word of God, he should do so loudly, clearly, and expressively. During the great presidential, prayer, the anaphora, from the pre-face to the doxology, he should invite the silent attention of the community to what he is doing by his own sense of presence, by his poise and serenity. His whole bodily attitude must be expressive of praise and thanksgiving, His priestly vestments ought to mark him as a man of dis-tinction. In short, he must look and sound like a leader, and to do this he has to feel like one. He is not to be esoteric or insert idiosyncracies into the celebration, yet his action must be personal action flowing expressively from his total personality which on the deepest level is priestly. Finally, the two .very important factors in building up the sense of community are music and movement. People experience real togetherness by mutual singing and mu-tual movement. Every conventual Mass should be a com-munity sing. But again this does not mean that everyone has to sing everything. Some of the prescribed chants are too difficult to be enjoyable for those who are not trained to sing them. The obvious answer is to let the trained schola sing those parts, while the rest of the community listens attentively--at that moment their liturgy is med-itative listening together. Beyond this, there is need for the composition of good music which is singable by the real communities that actuall~ exist. °The ability to sing must be built up, but we have to start where people are and help them experience their own way into better things. The most familiar mutual movements at Mass are the changes of posture: standing, sitting, kneeling, and bow-ing. These movements ought to be expressive and forma-tive of community. This means that all should rise, bow, and so forth, together because community actions are not fully authentic unless every member makes his contribn-tion to the communal movement. These movements, as well as all the ceremonies during any liturgical function, should be expressive of two things: first, the gravity of what is being done, and secondly, the anirna una et cor unum of the community. Beyond the familiar change~ of posture, there are three great movements of the .people of God at Mass--the En-trance Procession, the Offertory Procession, and the Com-munion Procession~during which the community is sing-ing together. There are practical difficulties in restoring the movement features of the first two processions which have been reduced to the singing of the Introit and Of-fertory Antiphons. The difficulties are not insurmount-able, but they are more formidable than the difficulty it would entail to reintroduce the singing feature of the Commun, ion Procession. There are few experiences of community which can match walking in a group of your confreres in joyful song on the way to and fron~ the table of the Lord where you share the .one Bread. Let Us now make a few observations about the cat-echesis of the Mass as an event. The Mass is not an ordi-nary dialogue, nor an ordinary meal. It is a festive speak-ing of God and a festive eating with God. It involves a longing for happiness and salvation, for every feast" has the atmosphere of expectation and liberation from rou-tine. This is the eschatological dimension of the Mass. The early Christian found it easier to feel the festivity of the Mass because he found it easier to see the Mass as a cel-ebration of the coming of the risen Lord, a pledge of His final coming. For the early Christian Christ was present in the Church, especially in the actual liturgical assembly gathered together in His name: as the community cam~ together, Christ came among them. When those who love come together the tone is one of festivity. The Mass must, then, become a real celebration, as its interpenetrating rhythm of dialogue and meal indicate it is meant to be. At a celebration people talk and sing and move around. There is real, free communication. Mass is a dialogue between God and His people through the mediatorship of the priest. The priest talks to God in the name of the people and to the people in the name of God. When people really come together in a festival setting to talk with one another, they bring their interests, their work, their experiences, and their whole personality which transcends these experiences. Here one can see the role that community recreation and community meals can play as a catechesis of the proper celebration of Mass. It is not stretching a point to see community recreation as the extension and fruit of the festive dialogue of the Mass; in itself it has something of the nature of a ritual and might indeed be considered a sacramental for community. Play is sacred. When the Bible says the people rose up ÷ ÷ + Community Exercises VOLUME 21o 1962 337 ÷ ÷ Aloysius Mehr, O.~.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 338 to play while Moses was conversing with God on Mount Sinai, it speaks condemningly of the event, including its sexual misbehavior, precisely because it was an act of false worship (Ex 32:1-6). Later in Israelite history we know that David leapt and danced before the Ark of the Covenant (2 S 6:14). Play is an expression of joy and freedom--like the Sabbath day of rest. The idea of worship and the free-dom from the drudgery of work belong together. The need to break routine is rooted in man's desire for the freedom of salvation. Play is free dialogue, whether it be in the form of relaxed conversation, or a contest in which make-believe competition is manufactured, or the sharing of some unroutinized activity just "for the fun of it." Play keeps a man from b~ecoming a slave to his work; it keeps him from confining himself to the world of I-It. We take a game seriously to a point. We must take it that far, for playing is literally "making fun" of work. The religious significance of this is deep. One can take his life's work seriously only to a point; from there he must "make fun" of it in the sight of God and man as David made fun before the Ark and the people. Other-wise he will become proud and self-sufficient. The world of I-It is not to be despised, but it must lead up to the world of I-Thou, of dialogue between man and man and between man and God. Community recreation ought to be fun, but it must never be dissipation or aesthetically squalid, or the whole meaning of it is destroyed. It is the bringing of the real necessity of one's work to the level of free personal dialogue with God and man. A person-alized celebration of community recreation is a great help to a personalized celebration of Mass. The festivities of" the Mass reach their climax in the meal celebration. Food and drink are an essential part of a celebration. The Mass is a holy eating together, a sacred banquet in which we are filled with the bread of life and drink of the cup of gladness. The symbolism of wine especially provides the atmosphere of festivity. The feeling tone of the Mass is that of a celebration of people who are spiritually well fed and well drunk, who feel the spiritual fullness from the rich bread and the spiritual freedom from the intoxicating wine. Here we might note that the regular community meals can be a real catechesis of the Mass, since they are in fact a sacramental extension of the meal aspect of the Mass through the ritual prayers surrounding them. Human eating is of its nature a sacred and communal act. It is not a mere refueling for another round of work. God is present at every meal in his gifts of food and drink and in the fellowship around the table. The prayers before and after meals set the tone of the meal. They are mos~tly i, excerpts from the Psalms, breathing the spirit of the anawim, the spirit of joy, thanksgiving, appreciation, de-pendence on God, praise, awareness of God's presence, simplicity. The meals themselves should reflect all this. The food should be simple fare, b,ut good. It ought, t.o be eaten in an atmosphere of calm enjoyment, not of frantic dumping from platter to plate to palate. There ought to be a real spirit of fellowship at the table. But besides fellowship at table, we should also be aware of how community meals tie in with the Mass. Father Godfrey Van Lit, O.S.C., describes the intimate relation-ship between the refectory and the ~ chapel, community meals and the Mass.4. The Christian dining room table is a symbol of the Eucharistic table, the altar, and hence the refectory used to be decorated with a large, artistic painting of the Last Supper. As we have silence of place in the chapel, so we also observe silence of place in the refectory, And as in the community Mass the leader pro-claims to us the Good News, so also during our commu-nity meals a lector acquaints us with the consequences of the Gospel narrative. Both at Mass and at table, we are reminded that "not by bread alone does man live, but by every word that comes forth from. the mouth of God" (Mr 4:4). Both the Mass and the community meals ought to par-take of the spirit of the Passover and Chaburah meals of the Old Testament. The pervading tone here is that of a family meal. The community superior presides in the place of honor at the table as the father of the family who provides the good gifts. In so doing he is the epiphany of our heavenly Father who provides us with all good things, and the assurance of His presence among us. "He who has seen me has seen the Father" (Jn 14:9). The hebclomadarius who leads the community both at Mass and at the meal prayers must be seen as the delegate of the father of the community, just as every priest stands at the altar as the delegate of the bishop. So simple a thing as the custom of not starting the prayers until the superior "knocks of[" in chapel or rings the bell in the refectory helps to keep this family awareness. At the com-munity table one ought not to feel that he is just one nameless stop along the long line of the gravy train, but that he is among the little group of his brothers with whom he is at home. We are one "b~cause the bread is one" (1 Cor 10:17). The event aspect of the Mass also demands that the ritual transposition of the sacramental moment should be ~ Lucerna Splendens super Candelabrum Sanctum, Id Est, Solida ac Dilucida Explanatio Constitutionum Sairi ac Canoni¢i Ordinis Fratium Sanctae Crucis (Coloniae Agrippinae: apud Antonii Boet-zeri Heredes, 1632), pp. 45-58; 87. ÷ ÷ ÷ ECxo~mrmcisuensity VOLUME 21, transparent; the celebration must be a revelation of the event itself. The main event is the Easter Passover, but there are other sacramental moments in sacred history which unfold in the course of the Church year as incip-ient or concluding stages of the Passover, from the In-carnation to the Mission of the Spirit. The sacramental moments are themselves revelations, openings into the Passover mystery, which pervades the whole Church in her sacramental ritual. A final note on the Mass concerns the apostolate. Cult is formative of missionaries. Worship is the school of the very Christian experience which the apostle seeks to com-municate to others. Here we must remember that there is no. effective activity without sanctity; there is no sanc-tity which does not radiate in the Church; there is no grace which does not come from the Head, and there is none which does not flow from the member back over the entire Body.~ + + lloysim Mehr, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 34O A religious who neglects his personal sanctity in order to intensify his activity, paralyzes it. The gift of the Spirit is the sacramental basis for com-munity in work. When a man works to bring forth the fruits of the earth as a Christian, he brings these temporal things into the sphere of the Spirit by doing the very best job he can to make his farming or his teaching, and so forth, as perfect as possible within the total context of human life, of community. He is working with the crea-tive force of the Spirit who hovered over the waters and brought order, harmony, and completion out of chao:; and who is now at work in the community. He brings; creation into his Passover experience. He is using the totality of his mind and energies and spirit, which totality exists only within the community, 'to bring creatures to perfection, to fill up the glory ofGod which will come in its fullness at the Parousia. 2. Penance. We are not accustomed to thinking of the sacrament of penance in terms of the community, and in this we have missed much of its meaning. The weekly confession of devotion can easily become for religious a routinized ticking off of peccadillos which one "gets rid' of" by inserting his penitential coins in the laundromat at the back of Church. The sacrament of penance is a re-penetration of our ex-istence into Christ's healing death and Resurrection. Re-penetration implies that something preceded. Through baptism man is ontologically structured into the commu-nity of the holy--holy persons and holy things which they share. Sin 'is something abnormal for man in Christ Jesus '~Jules Lebreton, S.J., The Spiritual Teaching o! the New Testament (Westminster: Newman, 1960), p. 375. (Rom 6:2). By sin man withdraws from the Body of Christ and sides with the world. The sacrament of penance is reconciliation with the Church. It is the Church that listens to his confession, prays for him, and gives him absolution. Here we see the Body of Christ, wounded by'sih, festoring itself t~0 health. For us, a return to God is always, first of all, a return to the Church. Forgiveness is not so much something which the Church brings us, but rather a belonging to the Church outside of which there is no salvation. The importance of the local Church community must be emphasized here. When a sinner is forgiven, he is for-given through the forgiveness of the local community. This was more evident in the earlier forms of the sacra-ment of penance when the sinner was received publicly back into the assembly. He was assured of God's forgive-ness by the concrete forgiving spirit manifested to' him by the community. The power to absolve is vested in those with hierarchical authority, but they absolve in the name of the community of the faithful; hence the?e is a more fruitful and creative spiritual power at work in the con-fessional of a community'where there is a strong spiri't of mutual forbearancb and forgiveness, where the '~'as we forgive those who trespass against us" is prayed with awareness and sincerity, where the offensive person is ac-cepted in patience, understanding, and ultimate trust in what in him lies beyond his offences: his Christian per-sonality. The sacrament of penance can also be made more fruit-ful if the sacramentals of penance in the community life are appreciated. Two important ones. come to mind: Compline confession of sins and the chapter of faults. Let it be remembered that by the institution of the Church these rites are sacramentals, and if approached in a spirit of contrition they accomplish forgiveness of sin. The Compline confession of sin is the best catechesis for the sacrament of penance for it clearly embodies .its essential elements: contrition, confession of sin in the community and to the community, including the whole community of saints in heaven as well as those present; absolution is given by the presiding priest; and everybody prays together for the effectiveness of the forgiveness. The chapter of faults is also well constructed to pro-mote the communal atmosphere of penance, but it needs to be approached in a genuine spirit of sorrow. The pub-lic confession of our faults in the presence of the com-munity helps to make us realize that by our transgres-sions, by our indifference, lack of interest, fulfillment of purely personal inclinations, and non-participation in the community as such, we cut ourselves off, in fact we deny, the ontological status or nature of our very calling. ÷ ÷ ÷ F~oxmermcisuens ity 4. .4. Aloysius Mehr, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Worse yet, we hold back the community, we retard its growth. This seems to be the point of the chapter of faults: we confess that we have not been completely faith-ful to the ideals to which we vowed creative fidelity. 3. Holy Orders. In clerical religious communities, the whole idea of community life is intimately bound up in the sacrament of holy orders. Some observations on the place of the priesthood in the Church are necessary to clear the ground. It has often been said recently that the Church is not the clergy, despite the impression that has long been given to the contrary. The community is the first inten-tion. The priesthood exists for and in and fromthe com-munity through the apostolic succession. The priesthood is a charism, a mode of being in the Church, for the com-munity, not for itself. It expresses and makes possible and matures the general priesthood of the faithful in its three-fold dimension of worship, kingship, and prophethood. These are the Messianic goods, and they have been placed within the community in the gift of the Holy Spirit. In this context the Church itself is the Ur-Sat~rament con-taining the fullness of the Spirit, which is worked out through many diverse gifts. The priesthood is a charism for the building up of the Church (Eph 4:11-14). Ordination is the,gift of the Holy Spirit by the laying on of hands in the Church for the community. The priest is filled personally by the Holy Spirit to be his minister. No man takes the office to him-self-- or for himself. The fullness of the priesthood is only in the bishop. He is the sign of the full presence of Christ on earth, the organ of unity within the local Church community. He is one with Christ and one with his people. His faith is the norm for the faith of his flock. St. Cyprian defines the . Church as the people united to its priest, the flock stick-ing with its shepherd. The 'bishop is the nucleus of the community because he is the link with Christ through the imposition of hands through which the continuum of the soma tou Christou is maintained. The presbyterate is only a share in the bishop's priest-hood, a subsidiary priesthood under the bishop. As the ordination rite explicitly states, the presbyter is a "sec-ond- rate" priest: secundi meriti. In this light, every priest is a diocesan priest, and, exempt or not, when he works as a priest in a diocese, he works there as the helper of the bishop. By his ordination he is ontologically struc-tured for this work. He is called from the depths of his being to be a helper to the bishop of the diocese in which he lives. Here one can see what a deordination it is for religious priests not to be on good terms with the local ordinary. These good relations should also exist with the rest of the local clergy since the presbyterate is not merely an in-dividualistic but a collegiate institution. The architecture of early churches and the episcopal liturgy indicate this by placing the corona presbyterorum on the bema round the bishop. We still put the clergy together in the sanc-tuary. When a presbyter is ordained he joins the ordo foresbyterovum. This is eloquently obvious in the ordina-tion rite when the "college of presbyters" encircles the ordinands and joins the bishop in the imposition of hands. Priestly fellowship is rooted in the sacramental re-ality, and this sacramental reality is also what makes com-munity life a natural thing for priests. The unity in an order of canons draws its essential vitality from the sacra-ment of holy orders. In this context, the naturally prominent position of the Divine Office and liturgical exercises in many of the cler-ica. I religious communities becomes evident. The Divine Office is, as defined by Pope Pius XII, ~he perennial prayer of the Church, offered to God in the name and on behalf of all Christians, by those who have been deputed for this. It is the hymn of the Divine Word who has united to Him-self the entire human race, and the hymn which He sings is the hymn of praise which is sung in heaven continu-ously. St. Augustine is correct in saying that in the Divine Office "Christ prays for us. as our Priest; he prays in us as our Head; we pray to him as our God . We recognize Our voice in him and his voice in us.''4~ It is the Church praying. But we should go one step further. When a community of canons regular is called into existence by the Holy Spirit and officially approved by the Church, it is by its very nature entrusted with the solemn and communal celebration of the sacred liturgy, especially the Divine Office and the conventual Mass. If any religious body has the right to say that the liturgical life is its ideal, it is the canons regular.47 They above all should lead the way in the liturgical revival of Christian life. The proper chanting of the Divine Office in common is formative of community. But, in order to be formative of community, it presupposes first of all that the community understands the dignity of the Church's prayer, secondly, that the choir members are able to read the text of the prayer intelligently, and, finally, that they adopt as their own the sentiments expressed in these prayers. ,e Mediator Dei, nn. 142-144. ,TDom Germain Morin, O.S.B., The Ideal o] the Monastic Life Found in the Apostolic Age (Westminster: Newman, 1950), p. 105: "If any Order has the right to boast of this it is the Canons Regular, rather than ourselves." See also the article "Canons Regular and the Breviary" by Roger Capel, Orate Frates, v. 23 (1948-49), pp. 246-251. ÷ ÷ + ECxoemrdmsuesnity VOLUME 21. 1962 343 ÷ ÷ ÷ Aloysius Mehr, O$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS It is not merely a question of recitatk;n or of singing which, however perfect according to the norms of music and sacred rites, onl)t reaches the ear, but it is especially a question of the ascent ot the mind and heart to God' so that, united with Christ, we may completely dedicate ourselves and all our ac-tions to him.'s Whenever the Divine Office is chanted "worthily, with attention and devotion," it is prayer in the fullest sense of the term, and every genuine prayer cements together the members of a community. "Our deepest contacts with one another can be made only through God.''49 It is only in the depths of prayer that, in the fullest sense of the term, deep calls out to deep, and the soul gives itself to God. In this sense, every genuine prayer is a renewal of religious profession, the leaving of all things and following He-who- is. If the religious community is to blossom forth into a true community of worship and love, it must be able, at all times, to call upon this interior gift to God.5° The central portion of the Divine Office is the Psalter: the Word of God. The best way for men to pray together is to speak with God in God's own words, for the Word of God is formative and expressive of the community. The common chanting of the Psalter is, by and large, a meditar tive re-experiencing together of the great events of sacred history--again a community-forming factor.5x The Psalter is redolent with man's proper responses to God and his works: the spirit of the anawira, the poor in spirit, God's lowly ones through whom sacred history is accomplished. By a continual singing of these prayers day after day for many .years, these attitudes of heart sink into those who give themselves to this prayer with their minds and hearts and bodies. Through the ritual action, the attitudes and events are effectively experienced by the total personality in community; by all the rules of psychology such prayer is extremely capable of transforming one's life as an aLt-thentic individual in the community. A final note on the Divine Office concerns the non-choir members and every other member of the community who has been assigned work incompatible with regular attend-ance at choir. Here it is important to remember that the choir is a community obligation'. In a living community there are many members "just as in one body we have many members, yet all the members have not the same function" (Rom 12:4). Some are sent out as missionaries, others do the cooking, others are engaged in social work--- ~s Mediator Dei, n. 145. ~9 R. W. Gleason, S.J., To Live is Christ (New York: Sheed anti Ward, 1961), p. 11. ~ T. de Ruiter, O.F.M., Her Mysterie van de Kloostergemeenschap (Mechelen: St. Franciskusdrukkerij, 1958), p. 131. ~ Mediator Dei, n. 148. each according to the grace that has been given to him (Rom 12:6). And then there are also those who are not excused and who have the responsibility to be in choir. In each case it is the community at work or at prayer. Whether we are in the choir or legitimately excused, we are all working together in the name of the omhaunity, fulfilling our role in the completion of the cosmic task. 4. Extreme Unction. The communal dimension of ex-treme unction must be viewed from the Christian stand-point on death. The creation of Adam in flesh is the man-ifestation of the mystery of contingency which attends the existence of all things outside of God. Only God is in Himself and by Himself. All other beings tend to fuller being, which implies nonbeing. Death is the natural con-sequence of man's fleshy nature. Since the human race is a community in flesh it is also a community in death. Adam, however, did not accept his contingency. He failed to project beyond the dissolution of flesh to fuller life. He revolted against being the creature who dies, and death became a punishment for this sin. since the human race is a community in sin, it is a community in the pun-ishment of death (Rom 5:12). Christ, the New Adam, humbled himself: took on con-tingency. He submitted, as the suffering Servant, to be the creature who dies, and death became a redemption, a passage into the eternal life for which Adam revolted in vain (Rom 5:15-19; 1 Cot 15:21). Since the Church is a community in redemption, it is a community in triumph over death. Through the Church's sacraments of death and disso-lution, Viaticum and extreme unction, all human suffer-ing. and death is taken into the redemptive sufferings of Christ. The falling apart involved in suffering and death becomes the creative mustering of forces for the upward thrust to a higher level of life. The death of the Christian is his final experience of the Passover of Christ. Without Christ, death is complete loneliness. One leaves the community of his loved ones to go alone into nothing-ness. Christian death conquers this ultimate loneliness. The highpoint of the ritual for the dying is the admin-istration of Holy Viaticum. The Christian does not go alone into death: the Lord comes to take his faithful serv-ant up into his triumphant Passover. The Lord is able to come in Viaticum because the community has celebrated the Eucharistic Passover. Much of the loneliness of death comes from the effect of sin, by which man cuts himself off from the community. In the prayers and anointing for sickness unto death, the healing Lord approaches in the person of the priest to cure the wounds of severance from the community, to re-store the peace of mind that can come only from c6mplete + + + Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 345 4. 4. 4. Aloysius Mehr, O$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 346 reconciliation with the Church. Again, the priest is acting in the name of the community. The death of a Christian is a deep experience for the community in which it occurs. When at all possible, the religious community should be present at the administra-tion of the last sacraments to the dying members of the community, and they should pa.rticipate in the expressive prayers of the ritual. Such a death is a witness to the reality of the triumph of Christ, a real martyrdom. The joyful and peaceful suffering and death of one with whom we live in intimacy is a striking pledge of the reality of Christ's Resurrection and the certainty of the Parousia. Here we have the reason for a quite joyful celebration of a funeral. What is said of death extends also to the sufferings of illness, disease, and serious injury, as well as of old age. Here there is the same factor of dissolution and contin-gency which is at work in death. Illness and death are times of crisis that naturally draw the community together to struggle against the loneliness which has set into our flesh as a result of sin. The serious sufferings of a member of the community are a community experience and ought to be entered into by the community. This involves a patient care and con-cern for the aged and the sick and keeping the community informed of their condition. It means visiting the sick. It would also be good to make use of the magnificent ritual for the visitation of the sick: let the community gather occasionally in the sick room to join in these moving and consoling prayers led by the superior. In the communal carrying out of this sacramental, the healing Lord will be present, and the patient endurance of suffering in the true Christian spirit will again be a witness to the community of the reality of Christ's presence and the certainty of his coming. Epilogue: The Dynamism of the Sacramental Com-munity There is an inherent tension in the very being of a sac-ramental dispensation or system: the tension, inherent in the nature of a sign, toward the fullness of that reality which is less than fully present in the sign. This underlies the call, covenant, and passover aspect of the sacraments and gives them their "obligatory" dimension, their ex-istential imperative. In Christian life this tension is the cosmic covenant: the Christian community's responsibil-ity for the entire cosmos which needs redemption and building up. This means authentic community work. Religious life is Christian response lived to the full in the working out of salvation history. It is charged with the building up of the Church unto the Pleroma, with the hastening of the day of the coming of the Lord (Ac 3:20; 2 Pt 3:11-12

Issue 47.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1988. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The edito-rial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO. 63108-3393. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS iS owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. ©1988 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: U.S.A. $12.00 a year; $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail, add $5.00 per year; for airmail, add $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVtEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. BOX 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read M. Anne Maskey, O.S.F. Acting Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors May/June 1988 Volume 47 Number 3 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave., Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 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. Effective, Nondefensive Communication Between Clergy and Religious Women Robert J. Wicks, Psy.D. This article is adapted from an invited address presented at the 1986 Annual Vicars for Religious Eastern Regional Conference on November 7, 1986, at the St. Raphaela Retreat House, Haverford, Pennsylvania. Dr. Wicks, author of Availability. the Problem and the Gift, is Professor of Pastoral Counseling and Director of Program Development in the Loyola College Pastoral Counseling Department; 7135 Minstrel Way, Suite 101; Columbia, Maryland 21045. Good communication cannot solve every problem; to think so is naive. However, good communication can set the stage for metanoia (conver-sion). Therefore, in light of this all must be done to take advantage of the opportunity it offers-~even though, as one might expect, the cost of this conversion (in terms of openness, patience, and persistent assertive-ness) may be quite substantial. Considering this cost, from a psychological point of view there must be a real effort taken to remove all of the unnecessary interpersonal stress involved through the employment of good communication techniques; whereas, from a spiritual vantage point we must see the goal of effec-tive communication and relationship formation between male and female leaders of the Church as a positive challenge which inspires further steps toward openness rather than one that is threatening and discouraging, caus-ing avoidable anxiety. The movement toward Christian intimacy and interdependence must then be based on a hope that is very much tied to our faith; for with a strong faith--even when we are in the midst of an interaction that seems 321 399 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 to be pulling us apart or are in an apparently complete impasse--we will never lose sight of the key biblical injunction "Be not afraid." In the simple words of Paul to the Philippians: In the name of the encouragement you owe me in Christ, in the name of solace that love can give, of fellowship in spirit, compassion and pity, I beg you: make my joy complete by your unanimity, possessing the one love, united in spirit and ideals. Never act out of rivalry or conceit; rather, let all parties think humbly of others as superior to themselves, each of you looking to others' interests rather than his [her] own (Ph 2:1- 4). His call must be one that all men and women in Christ must heed. And clergy and religious women (the term "religious women" is used instead of "women religious" because it is more inclusive) need to lead the way in continuing to model this struggle for partnership in ministry. One of the realities that I believe many of us do not realize about com-munication between clergy and religious women in this age of occasional ministerial conflict between women and men is that communication is better now between these two groups than ever before in the modern Church. In the past the dissemination of information may have been easier and the discussions more comfortable, but if we are to look at commu-nication as a two-way communication where self-disclosure and the un-covering of agendas are involved, communication between clergy and re-ligious women is, in a real sense, a recent post-Vatican II phenomenon. Prior to this, in many instances because of structures and roles, the in-formation flowed primarily in one direction; this was not only unfair to all concerned but it also held back the Christian community because com-munication is a mainstay of interpersonal vitality. With these points as a backdrop then, we must enter into the topic of effective, nondefensive communication between clergy and religious women with a sense of reality and a deep attitude of hope. If we want, psychology can provide practical information to help, but we must also recognize that this is a spiritual movement; tht~s, in this light we have a responsibility to guide it but an equal mandate not to try to control it. To do so would only prove both frustrating and disastrous. In an effort to place sound psychology at the service of this move-ment, three questions will be addressed: I. How do people respond to communication?This question is im-portant because we often have the assumption that communication is nor- Effective, Nondefensive Communication / 323 mally received with welcome arms and are surprised when this does not happen. II. Who is receiving the message? This question is helpful to address because of the dramatic way a message can be affected, accepted, or re-jected when there is little reflection on whom we are addressing in terms of a number of variables. III. How is effective communication an element in an overall trans-formation of one's attitude and response to God? Good communication is only important if it serves to build up the Kingdom--the Kingdom within ourselves and the Kingdom among ourselves, that "Sacred Space" within which we make the spiritual journey. I. What Are Some of the Ways People May Respond to Communica-tion? Communication can be greeted in a number of ways including: with suspicion or paranoia, with unrealistic expectations, or with hope and chal-lenge. Understanding a bit about each of these types of responses is help-ful when preparing for or involved in communicating with others. Suspicion or Paranoia: Alan Paton once said that some persons "fear social change more than they fear God." Communication often leads to change, and in the institutional Church there sometimes is a sense of suspicion or even paranoia about where the current movements will lead. Nowhere is this more evident than with respect to the move-ment toward full partnership on the part of women. Quite honestly, al-though the suspicion and paranoia are not warranted if we have real trust in the Lord and are healthy psychologically, there is still a reality aspect to the whole issue which is senseless to bury or deny. Communication, real communication--which has at its heart the burning desire for inclu-siveness- is a Trojan horse in the institutional Church today. Inside the horse is true Christian equality--something that will, as it develops and grows, bring with it confusion and concern, just as Christ did in his times to his religious structure. So, although we really must not turn back and hide ourselves behind former types of organizational breakdowns (to do so, I think, would be a futile and sinful exercise in misplaced nostalgia for past structures), th.e question we must not hide through Christian de-nial or behind "chronic niceness" is whether, in envisioning unity, we are also prepared to face many systemic questions which may shake us as a body to the core? Unrealistic Expectations: Among the unrealistic expectations of com-munications we sometime~ hold on to are that good communications will almost always produce comfortable agreement, or somehow if it is done 324 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 correctly will always be pleasant. Agreement does not occur all of the time; this is natural. However, some people erroneously believe that if there is not agreement, it means the communications involved are not good. This is false because there could be a meeting of the minds but the minds may not agree. This is an important point to realize in the Church today. The Church takes time to change; those who have had time to see the institutional manifestations of the Church around the world and have reviewed Church history know that the structures often take time to catch up to the reality of the movement of the Spirit in the People of God. So, while communications and respect between clergy and religious women must be at the top of our agenda, to expect that this will lead to immediate change of certain laws, traditions, and systems is to court unnecessary frustration. Another unrealistic expectation is to expect that if communications are good the results will be pleasant. This is obviously also not true. To see injustice-~either in our own behavior or others--is certainly not a joy. As a matter of fact, good communication may bring us closer-- truth has a special power to do this--but we may not feel it because the issues that divide us may become clearer and we may feel more alien-ated because we are starting to honestly confront them. Using the terminology of Merton, in communications our "true selves" may well see each other and be attracted but at the same time our "false selves" will probably turn and run for their lives! For in-stance, let us take the case of a clergyman who is a firstborn male with an eastern European background. For him to have to face as a result of communication the possibility that he has been acculturated to see him-self as the "worthy one," someone to be waited on hand-and-foot, and that he must somehow in the Spirit of the servant Jesus move away from this learned style is not going to be easy. Likewise, for a religious woman to own the fact that she has been displacing some anger she rightly feels about injustice in the Church onto a particular priest who has not shown any evidence of sexism but has happened to be nearby when she was feeling her justified frustration is also not pleasant. Hope and Challenge: However, thankfully, communication can also be greeted in a positive way. It can be greeted with a sense of hope and challenge; and that is the attitude we must all seek to "put on" as we would seek to put on Christ. Yet this positive Christlike attitude does not deny that communication takes effort, is easily affected, and often gets distorted because of past experiences. Effective, Nondefensive Communication / 325 Gestures never substitute for actions; this all of us probably would admit to knowing. Yet one of the burdens of the human condition is that we often make a gesture when we think we are taking an action. This is especially so in communication. Real communication requires that agen-das be cleared. We must risk speaking our minds and our hearts, but often we shy away from this because we can lose face, uncover unpleas-ant anxieties, or lose our position in the relationship (even though this position is a matter of self-protection rather than of Christian friendship). The "bottom line" then is that, even with a sense of hope and challenge, good communication takes real effort. II. Who Is Receiving the Message? Age, socio-economic background, race/ethnic origin, intelligence, and any number of other determinants will affect how our message is re-ceived. This is especially important in terms of personality and sociali-zation as a result of gender. With respect to personality and communication, given the focus of this paper, the specific factors which we will treat here are domination and avoidance. Domination: Some people have a great fear of being dominated or influenced while others are themselves dominators. In both cases, the per-son will receive communications in line with these personality determi-nants. Sometimes very bad past ministerial experiences will cause this kind of issue to be at the forefront. An example of this is the person in ministry who has been--in the name of "Christian service"--pulled into doing all kinds of work and has filled all kinds of inappropriate roles. He or she may then respond to communication in what I call a "pseudojustice" mode. Trying to communicate with such persons about involvement can be like pulling teeth because of their fear that their own space will be intruded upon as it has been in the past. With them you may feel exasperated and feel like yelling: "I'm not trying to control you. All I'm trying to do is to find out how you would like to serve as part of the team." The hidden agenda such people have and their past feeling of being dominated and forced into too many unwanted, possi-bly unsuitable roles need to surface and be dealt with so communication and involvement can proceed. On the other hand, for persons receiving the message who are them-selves dominators, the problem will be somewhat different. In this case they show constant concern that if they agree or open up they might lose necessary control of the situation. In communicating with them, the situ-ation is also frustrating because if you are not careful you may begin to 326/Review for Religious, May-June 1988 feel that you are in fact gUilty of trying to wrestle control or get away with something. To such persons, nevertheless, you must express the idea clearly and question their hesitation so that they can get in touch with the domination problem they are experiencing. (Th.e more uncon-scious the problem is, howex;er, the more defensive the person will be because of a lack of awareness about it and a resistance to looking at it on his or her part.) Avoidance: Avoidance of involvement with another person may be due to a number of reasons. When we are speaking about communica-tions between clergy and religious women, though, one of the primary concerns could be the fear of heterosexual intimacy. As we learn from the psychological literature (for example, Daniel Levinson: The Seasons of a Man's Life), this may especially be a problem with males because of a confusion between genital relationships and nongenital heterosexual relationships. In Levinson's words: A man may have a wide social network in which he has amicable, "friendly" relationships with many men and perhaps a few women. In general, however, most men do not have an intimate male friend of the kind that they recall fondly from boyhood or y.outh. Many men have had casual dating relationships with women, and perhaps a few complex love-sex relationships, but most men have not had an intimate nonsexual friendship with a woman. We need to understand why friendship is so rare, and what consequences this deprivation has for adult life (p. 335). For the religious woman, the case may be a failure to have had enough heterosexual opportunities herself to feel at ease in the situation; another reason could be a negative history early in life or in ministry (for example, steps at healthy intimacy either rebuffed or responded to in a genital way thus producing confusion, anger, or possibly unwarranted guilt). Now that we have looked at the above two elements in understand-ing whom we are communicating with--since the "who" very much de-termines how a message will be received, let us briefly look at the dif-ferences communication takes on from the socialization a person receives because of gender. Gender, along with the socialization and human development that oc-cur in line with it, is a very crucial variable in how someone receives communication. Carol Gilligan (In A Different Voice: Visions in Matur-ity, Harvard University Press, 1982), Robert Kegan (The Evolving Self, Harvard University Press, 1982), and Jean Miller (Toward a New Psy-chology of Women, Beacon, 1976) b.ave shown that recent studies on Effective, Nondefensive Communication women's psychological development characterize them as more open to, and interested in, affiliation than men. However, of more import is that these findings, rather than being evidence of regressive dependence, are reflective of a high level of development that should be integrated with (male-oriented) differentiation at each level of maturity. Joann Wolski Conn, in her work Women's Spirituality (Paulist, 1986), points to this: ¯ . . o.ne should notice the similarities between the Christian goal of un-ion with God demonstrated by loving care for all persons, and the ideal of human maturity promoted in essays by Miller, Gilligan, and Kegan. Gilligan rejects autonomy as the only appropriate goal for human ma-turity in moral decisions and presents instead a goal which equally val-ues relationships . [Kegan] explicitly intends to present a model which listens as carefully to women's experience as it does to men's. As a result, his model demonstrates how the qualities which have come to characterize men and women stereotypically--autonomy and relation-ship-- are the focus of life span tasks at every stage of everyone's de-velopment . Miller explains that autonomy as the goal of maturity is a carry-over from men's experience and implies that one should be able to give up affiliations in order to become separate and self-directed. Women seek more than autonomy as was defined for men; in-deed, they seek a fuller ability to encompass relationships simultane-ously with the fullest development of themselves. Too often women are misinterpreted or penalized for affirming to men a basic truth: every-one's individual development proceeds through affiliation as well as dif-ferentiation. And this development involves conflict which is an inevi-table fact of life and is not necessarily harmful (60, 61). The above is particularly relevant for us here because it is the devel-opment of the female "gender" (as opposed to biological sex), with its emphasis on affiliation,versus the male "gender," which focuses on sepa-ration, that determines whether communication will be sought to build up the Kingdom via an emphasis on relationships or via an attempt to foster "God's will" by furthering a truth or cause at the possible ex-pense of excluding intimacy in the process. ¯ This is not said to disparage men. Jesus in his communication mod-eled both the male and the female gender (that is, he stood for the truth but saw charity and relationship as the greatest law). On the other hand, in an effort to attain equality, it is equally possible for some women to mistake "machismo" for the masculine gender and seek aggressive power in their communication rather than an assertive appropriate de-fense of the truth that will in turn bring us together as brothers and sis- ~i98 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 ters. Consequently, gender is an important issue when reflecting on the person with whom we are trying to communicate. III. Effective Communications as an Element of Overall Transforma-tion Changes in one's attitude and approach to life are areas in which thera-pists have had a long-standing interest. Because of this they are aware of the resistance to change that people have-~even when there is an ex-pressed conscious desire to progress. One way of dealing with such re-sistance, bad habits, or unwanted yet seemingly ingrained negative pat-terns is to address one or all of the following: behavior, cognition, af-fect, and imagery. (I am indebted in this section to my colleague Rich-ard Parsons for his model for therapeutic intervention based on the first three of the factors just listed.) This information is important with respect to what we have already discussed because unless communication is seen as an element of one's overall need to be transformed in approaching God, it will not be suffi-ciently integrated into one's life to have significant impact on one's daily outlook. For instance, when a depressed person comes in for treatment, the problem during the course of therapy can be dealt with in each of the ar-eas listed above; the following is a sample: Behavior: The person is helped to develop a strategy to get out of bed and move about since activity and depression do not coexist well to-gether. Cognition: The person is assisted in recognizing negative thinking, seeing the link between it and depression, and learning how to correct for this thinking as a way of dealing ultimately with a negative belief sys-tem. Affect (emotions): The person is encouraged to express negative emo-tion (anger) so it is not directed against the self in a destructive fashion. Imagery: The person is given exercises in positive imagery as a means of correcting the inordinate negative images that the person fre-quently has and erroneously believes. In this way, the person is able to enter upon a process of self-reeducation, in terms of which, rather than behaving, perceiving, feel-ing, and imaging negatively, he or she realistically and positively takes greater and greater hold. In our openness to grace (using the above model including behav-ior, cognition, affect, and imagery), similar moves must be taken with respect to.ensuring the presence and growth of effective, nondefensive Effective, Nondefensive Communication communication between clergy and religious women. As a way of en-suring this, in each of the four categories, a series of sample questions is offered. They are not so much a comprehensive list as a way of ap-proaching what we have covered in this paper on a broader scale. How they are addressed initially and every day will help determine how the clergy and religious women feel about and act upon their stated desire to open up clear lines of communication between them--regarding, that is, what they do, perceive, affectively experience, and envision. Since emotions are hard to impact directly (except with drug therapy or via ex-ercises in catharsis--that is, ventilating emotions when relating an event to a friend so that the emotions do not come out in an inordinate way in an encounter with someone else), the three we will focus on in terms of a listing of reflective questions are: behavior, cognition, and imagery. (Naturally, there will be some overlap between categories.) Behavior: 1. When someone treats me with disrespect/anger, do I inquire about it or do I withdraw and absorb the negativity or retaliate against the per-son? (Am I able to say: "You seem angry. Is it me that you are angry with or someone/thing else?") 2. Do I time sensitive interactions correctly, or do I bring up things at a time when the person will feel on the spot, rushed, or unable to re-spond? (The "attack-in-the-open" or "hit-on-the-run" techniques.) 3. Do I let other people's behavior (defensive, angry, rigid.) de-termine (excuse) a like negative response on my part? 4. When I have a confrontation, do I employ empathy and respect? 5. Do I group people (sexes, roles . . .) together, or do I take the trouble to appreciate each person individually? 6. Do I treat my partner in ministry like a child or parent or assume one of these roles myself in communication? 7. Do I demand that people agree or have a constantly pleasant de-meanor as a price of interacting with me? 8. When I communicate, am I trying to be myself, or am I trying to project an image so as to keep people controlled, at a distance, or in awe of me? 9. Do I hide behind the rules--be they correct or not--as a way of ending a conversation or cutting off a person's desire to brainstorm or be an adult with me? 10. Do I give in--in the name of "charity"--because I want to be liked? 330 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 11. Am I difficult to deal with and .overly exacting about a job de-scription- not merely to ensure justice is done, but as displaced revenge for past injustices, hurts, or inordinate demands? In other words, am I willing to be assertive enough to set limits for people when I am being asked to do things I should not do, and, on the other hand, am I gener-ous enough to go the extra mile when it is called for rather than hide be-hind a "union-type" contract which may destroy ministerial morale? (This question is material for an article in itself, given the undeclared psy-chological war that is often taking place between some manipulative, con-trolling, dominant ministers in the Church and the obsessive-compulsive persons who report to them.) 12. Do I use emotional words or parental actions (pedantic tones, sar-o casm . . .) as a way of controlling or attacking other persons? 13. Do I use indirect or passive aggressive/dependent behavior as a way of getting back at someone because I cannot or will not face my own anxiety about being directly assertive? 14. Do I catch myself when I am not taking someone seriously or am making a premature judgment about him or her? 15. Do I tie people up in specifics, rules, or implications rather than allowing them to share their hopes, ideals, and visions with me? 16. Do I look for defensiveness in the other person as a help to moni-tor how I am presenting my view? (Am I using evaluative rather than de-scriptive language, which then sets the other person up to respond nega-tively?) 17. Am I being specific and recent, rather than vague, general, or historical? That is, am I dragging in what I perceive to be the person's whole negative history with me? 18. Am I falling into the trap of employing a communication de-stroyer such as: ordering, directing, commanding, warning, admonish-ing, threatening, exhorting, moralizing, preaching, lecturing, giving so-lutions, .judging, criticizing, blaming, flattering, name-calling, shaming, withdrawing, humoring, or diverting? i9. Am I acting the way I am because of the person's "church cre-dentials" or because of who they are as persons . . . my brothers and sisters in Christ? 20. Am I giving other persons enough distance, or am I moving ahead in the communication and relationship because of my own needs, my own sense of where relationships should be after a given period of time? Effective, Nondefensive Communication 21. Am I able to not "take the whole stage" or "hide behind the curtain" but instead find an appropriate verbal place in the communica-tion? 22. Am I self-disclosing enough without inappropriately or too rap-idly overwhelming the other person with my personal life? 23. Do I use anger, pouting, tears, tantrums, or seduction to get my way? 24. Do I look for the other person's point in communication so it re-ally can become a two-way process of exchanging information? 25. Am I looking for those signs in myself which would help me see when in my interactions and thoughts I may be setting myself up for un-necessary failure? (Do I expect that the reality of the diocese or present partner in ministry will meet my ideals and, when it does not, see it as a total failure?) Cognition: I. Do I try to be as clear as possible in the way I express myself--in other words, do I try to look at all my motivations and agendas? 2. Do I catch myself when I feel either angry, anxious, or guilty so I can try to understand the source of it rather than merely blaming my-self or someone else? 3. Am I sensitive to the times I personalize things? For instance, do I quickly take the blame for some external negative event that I was not primarily responsible for and as a result feel unnecessarily angry/guilty? 4. Do I hold on to the biblical quotation "Be not afraid" at a real belief/trust level to the extent that I can move forward in communica-tion even during those times when I feel pain, rejection, threat, or panic? 5. In my communication of the expectations I have of people, am I presenting them in a way which puts them on the spot, or do I really try to call them to be all they can be without embarrassing them because they are where they are? 6. Do I predict failure or put the other person down in my mind even before the communication has had time to develop? 7. Do I pick up my feelings of annoyance or frustration and catch the underlying thought which is causing it and thus avoid lessening my motivation to continue the communication and work through the prob-lem? 8. Do I fearlessly try to separate my motivations and agendas so I can see what mature/immature elements are involved in my thinking when I prepare for an important discussion, confrontation, or meeting? 332 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 9. When I am at an intimate level with a person, am I checking all the thoughts going through my mind---even the negative or unrealistic ones--as a way of picking up my unfulfilled preconscious desires or needs so they do not interfere with the communication or lead me to act out some immature behavior that would be detrimental to the relation-ship? I0. Am I thinking that, if this person does not like me, it means am not likable in general? Or do I believe that when I am on a ministry team everyone must get along equally well? 1 i. Do I see disagreement as tantamount to disloyalty or start to be-lieve such an attitude if I am given that message by the person with whom I am communicating? 12. Am I willing and able to recall past supportive adult situations I have had with other partners in ministry so I do not generalize when I have a bad experience in the present? Imagery: 1. Am I imaging myself as an assertive sister/brother of Christ, or do I perceive a non-Christlike negative image of myself? 2. Am I truly imaging the opposite sex as being in the image of God? (Am I able to image her/him as being my superior even if I am now her/ his superior in the apostolate?) 3. Do I image myself as loved so I can behave as a healthy person rather than a "good/nice" person who retreats, placates, etc., because of a desperate need for acceptance? 4. Do I try to cut through all of the past culturally determined im-ages I have had of the Lord in order to reenvision the masculinity (as op-posed to the "machismo," power, superiority . . .) of Christ, and am I also able to see Jesus as mother? Or, do I really believe this area is silly and avoid it? 5. Do I take the "Abba" image of God as my guide and meditate on it as an assertive yet tender role model? Or do I still have a "superego-oriented," patriarchal image of God? These are just some of the questions that must be faced with respect to behavior, cognition, and imagery if communication is to change and become effective, if our attitude is to be truly transformed. Epilogue Abraham Heschel once said: [A person's] plight is not due to the fear of nonbeing, to the fear of death, but to the fear of living . The fear of living arises most corn- Effective, Nondefensive Communication monly out of the experiences of failure or insult, or having gone astray or having been rebuffed. It is rooted in the encounter with other human beings, in not knowing how to be with other beings, in the inability or refusal to communicate, but above all in the failure to live in complete involvement with what transcends bur living. I think that, in discussing effective, nondefensive communication be-tween clergy and religious women and in looking at our behavior, cog-nition, and imagery, we are being asked whether we will fear living or whether we will live in complete involvement. We are being asked whether we will follow "Holy Mother the institutional Church" in such a strict way that we are not open to "Holy Mother our God" to the ex-tent that we allow her to carry us where she will. The questions being asked here, then, are not easy ones. Neither are the answers so immediate and accessible. Psychology can help, and we should employ it wherever we can. But, in the last analysis, it is prayer and spirituality that will turn the tide. James Fenhagen said at one point in his book Invitation to Holiness (Harper & Row, 1985, p. 57): "People live cautiously because they pray cautiously." I think this is so, and I think St. Peter felt it when he was confronted at Rome's gate after being asked the question: "Quo vadis?" Accordingly, I wonder, in this whole issue of communications and rela-tionships between clergy and religious women (as might also possibly be the case with respect to the modern movement toward a lay-centered Church), whether it would be too dramatic for us to see that the whole Church is at the gate being questioned again by the Lord as to our cour-age, fortitude, and faith? I wonder. I wonder. Leading People into Prayer Paul Wachdorf Father Wachdorf, a priest of the Archdiocese of Chicago, is an associate dean of for-mation and a spiritual director at Mundelein Seminary. His address is: University of Saint Mary of the Lake; Mundelein, Illinois 60060. For the past six years I have served as a spiritual director for the theologi-ans at Mundelein Seminary, the graduate school of theology of the Arch-diocese of Chicago. An increasing number of our incoming students have never been in a seminary. Frequently their knowledge of the history and teachings of the Church and of the various prayer traditions of the Church is at a very basic level. Some come with no prayer life at all. For others, their experience of prayer is limited to saying prayers, occasionally read-ing from the Bible, or talking to God. One of the challenges I have faced as a director in working with these students is to lead them into a deeper experience of prayer. Out of my experience of the last six years, I would like to share some of the insights and practical wisdom that I have found helpful in work-ing with these students. Although I have worked primarily with semi-nary students, I believe that what I have to say can be helpful to anyone working with beginners in prayer: spiritual directors, RCIA facilitators, pastoral-care ministers, homilists, prayer-group leaders, and many oth-ers. It is very important to be aware of the special issues and concerns that beginners in prayer face as they seek to come before God. The Foundational Conviction The most important insight that I have come to is this: God leads peo-ple into prayer. Through God's own invitations, people come to prayer in their own good time and way. As a director I can invite people to a life of prayer. I can walk with them in their attempts to pray. I can help 334 Leading People into Prayer / 335 to facilitate their movement into prayer. But I cannot make them pray, and I cannot control the movement or the experience of God in their prayer. As a director I have had to face my own impatience and desire to have someone become a person of prayer overnight. I have come to see that there are many starts and stops; but, over time, people are given the gift of prayer. Prayer cannot be forced. It is a conversion experience. When people come to experience firsthand the power of God at work in their lives and prayer, then prayer becomes something that they want to do and not something I expect them to do or something they are obli-gated to do by the Church. Until this happens for them, I try as much as possible to affirm their fledgling efforts to pray and to be understand-ing and accepting of them in their failures, their discouragement, and their resistances as they attempt to pray. Beginning by Doing When I meet.with prospective spiritual directees, I tell them that one expectation I have of them is that they commit themselves to developing a regular prayer life. Furthermore, within the context of spiritual direc-tion, I want them to talk about what happens to them when they do pray. I also tell them that I am not going to dictate to them how, when, or how often they should pray, nor am I going to scold them in their failures or difficulties with prayer. I am not indifferent about their prayer life. Within the framework of God's gift and their freedom, I try to be an accountability factor. What is a value to me, I want to be a value for them. In addition, I tell them that their commitment to prayer insures that what we do within the con-text of spiritual direction becomes more than just guidance and counsel-ing. Some of those I direct have told me that my invitation to prayer has been an important stimulus in their attempts to develop their own prayer life. In Solidarity and With Support At Mundelein Seminary, the full-time members of the formation team commit themselves to an hour of personal prayer every morning in our house chapel. We invite the students to join us in our time of prayer, and many of them do. In this hour of quiet time with God, there is a soli-darity that develops among us. Many of our students have said that this daily commitment of the formation team to prayer has been an impor-tant witness and invitation to them in their own prayer life. 33t5 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 Related to this, on occasion I have invited a student I am directing to join me for this time of quiet prayer. We have used a common prayer form or passage from Scripture as the basis of our prayer. Afterwards we spent some time talking about what we experienced in our prayer. Within the context of direction, I try to share on a limited basis, and when-ever I feel it is appropriate, some of the content of my own prayer life and what happens to me when I pray. These two things have helped some of my beginners in prayer to come to an experiential insight into what can happen when they open themselves up to God in prayer and to understand what prayer in gen-eral and what specific prayer forms can be like for them. The Spiritual Dialogue About Prayer When I first meet with new spiritual directees, I ask them to spend some time telling me their life history. Among other things, I ask them to tell me about their prayer life and their experiences and images of God. In particular, I ask them if they have ever had what they consider to be a religious experience or a powerful experience of God at work in their lives. What I have found is not only that many of those I direct have had such experiences but also that these experiences have played an impor-tant part in their own vocational discernment and their understanding of God. I have also found that people feel very shy or embarrassed about hav-ing had such an experience, have never told anyone about it before, and have a difficult time articulating just what the experience was like. As a director I find that it is very important for me to listen carefully to what they have to say, to reassure them that they are not weird or crazy, to invite them to explore further what they have experienced, and to give them permission to talk about such experiences as they might occur in the future. During the course of direction, I ask people to talk about their prayer life in terms of consistency, method, content, and inner feelings associ-ated with praying. Initially they find this difficult since they frequently lack the language to talk about what happens interiorly when they pray. Very often they have not developed the ability to sit quietly for any ex-tended period of time, to notice what they are feeling, and to distinguish the difference between distractions and movements of God. As we begin, I encourage people to talk about whatever they thought or felt or experienced in their prayer, whether they considered it to be significant or not. I find it important for me to move slowly and to be Leading People into Prayer patient with their attempts not only to pray but also to notice and talk about their experience of prayer. I also find that I need to be sensitive to their desire to please me, to do well in their prayer, or to have some-thing significant to say. I need to reassure them that whatever happens in their attempts to pray is fine with me and is pleasing to God. Related to these considerations is another question we examine early on: For whom is prayer intended? Is it primarily for my benefit, for what I get out of it? Or is it primarily for God? If prayer is just for my benefit and if nothing seems to be happening, I will feel it is a waste of time and will be tempted to give it up. On the other hand, if prayer is for God, it does not make any differ-ence if anything "productive" seems to be happening. Even if it feels like a waste of time to me, I am praying because I am giving my time to God in a way that says that my relationship with God is primary. The fact that I am consistently present to God in my prayer is initially far more important than what ! do or what happens when I pray. When peo-ple come to a different understanding of what prayer is and for whom it is intended, they relax and are more open as they approach prayer. Resistances, Difficulties, and Dryness Beginners in prayer are usually eager and enthusiastic as they begin to develop and deepen their prayer lives and to experiment with new prayer forms. They may experience in new and surprising ways the power of God at work in their prayer. As time passes, however, and they run into resistances, difficulties, and dryness in their prayer, they may become discouraged and disheart-ened with their prayer life. They may feel as if God has abandoned them. It is important to help them understand the dynamics of what is going on in their prayer. A list of some of the common difficulties that tend to make prayer difficult for beginners follows: a) Called to a Different Prayer Frequently the difficulties encountered by beginners in prayer are con-nected to being called by God to a different way of praying, to a deeper level of prayer. Although this is true for all pray-ers, it is especially true for beginners. My experience with beginners in prayer is that they soon discover that the ways of prayer taught them as children and carried with them into adolescence and young adulthood are no longer satisfying to them. It is important to let them explore their dissatisfactions and new yearn-ings and to help them see that perhaps God is calling them to a differ- Review for Religious, May-June 1988 ent, deeper way of praying. b) Wondering What to Do Exploring different ways of praying, however, often brings begin-ners to another difficulty: They do not know how to begin or what to do in their time of prayer. They are intimidated by silence and fear that noth-ing is going to happen or that they will be plagued by distractions. When they are unfocused as they come to prayer, when they have no sense of how to open themselves up to God so that God can enter into their lives, prayer will be extremely difficult for them. I find it is important to explore with beginners what prayer is, what attitudes to bring to prayer, how to interpret and deal with distractions, and what prayer techniques may suit them and open them up to God. If they know their Myers-Briggs type indicator, I offer to go over with them some of the research that has been done on prayer and tem-perament. One resource I would suggest is the book Prayer and Tem-perament by Chester Michael and Marie Norrisey (Charlottesville, Va. : The Open Door, 1984). The Myers-Briggs type indicator seems to be a limited but useful tool in helping people to understand how they ap-proach the world. This understanding can put them in touch with a fa-vored and a shadow side of prayer, an insight that can open them to a sense of God at work in their lives. c) Unworthiness Another difficulty beginners face is the feeling that they are not wor-thy to pray. More specifically, they feel unworthy to come before God, that they have nothing worthwhile to offer to God, and that .they are not worthy to receive anything from God in their time of prayer. These feel-ings are often connected with earlier lifestyles which now cause shame. Sometimes they are connected with images of God which portray God as a perfectionist or as a harsh, impersonal, unforgiving judge who pun-ishes wrongdoing. I find that it is important to let people freely explore their life histories, their images of God, and their own sense of unwor-thiness. d) Looking at All Facets of Life I encourage those I direct to get in touch with their feelings and to tell God in their prayer what they are feeling, thinking, and experienc-ing. This tends to bring into focus several related difficulties for begin-ners in prayer. Leading People into Prayer / 339 The first is their image of God as all-knowing. If God is all-knowing, why should they bother to express what God already knows? A second is that they are often not in touch with what they are feel-ing or with inner movements which might or might not be of God. They have never cultivated the reflective side of their lives. A third is that they are frequently suspicious of emotions, especially those they consider to be negative or sinful, such as anger, lust, or de-spair. They have a difficult time admitting to themselves that they have such emotions. And even when they do, how, for example, could they possibly express to God their angry feelings? Such feelings can be very threatening to them and can reinforce their sense of unworthiness before God. It is important to help beginners get in touch with their feelings and thoughts, to claim them in a non judgmental way, and to begin to express them to God in their prayer. As they do this, God is able to be with them as they are and as he wants to be with them. e) The Right Time and Place Difficulties in prayer can also be related to lifestyle and environment. A poor environment, such as the clutter of their rooms where there are many distractions, can make prayer difficult. I encourage beginners to explore various prayer environments to help them discover a place where they can be with God in peace. The time of day for prayer is important. "Morning" people or "night" people need to adjust prayer times according to their natural biological rhythms. I encourage people to find a time of day when they can give quality prayer time to God, a time of alertness and concentra-tion. The general rhythm of life affects prayer. A scattered life or a life out of balance will not help prayer. One needs a regular and rhythmic balance of work, play, and attending to relationships. I encourage peo-ple to examine their life patterns because a healthy life is related to healthy prayer. t') Consistent Commitment Inconsistency or not enough time given to prayer can make prayer difficult. The development of a healthy, loving, life-giving relationship between any two people requires that they spend sufficient, consistent, quality time together. Our relationship with God is no different. If God is to be present to us as God truly desires, we have to make time for this relationship to develop. It is important to explore with beginners the dis- ~140 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 cipline of consistent prayer. g) Wasting Time with God In the midst of the hectic pace of modern life, it is difficult to find time to pray. Often, for pragmatic, production-oriented Americans, prayer seems like a waste of time. People can always think of "better" ways to spend their time. The need that beginners have for productive prayer is one that needs to be carefully explored. I encourage them to see prayer as an opportunity to waste time gracefully with God. h) Dealing with Setbacks When people miss prayer for a day or two or three, they become dis-couraged. They may want to give up on prayer. My response is encour-agement. When they miss, they do not need to get upset or give up on prayer as a lost cause. I tell them to come back. Prayer is a decision that continually needs to be renewed. If they fall, they should simply get up and start over again. God, I believe, is not all that interested in how many times they have fallen. God is more interested in how many times they got back up and started over again. i) Desolation In his Rules for the Discernment of Spirits, Week I [322], St. Igna-tius suggests three important reasons why we suffer desolation or diffi-culty in prayer. David Fleming, S.J., in The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius: A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading (St. Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1978, pp. 210-211), "reads" the text of St. Ignatius as follows: I. It is our own fault because we have not lived our life of faith with any effort. We have become tepid and slothful and our very shallow-ness in the spiritual life has brought about the experience of desolation; 2. it is a trial period allowed by God. We find ourselves tested as to whether we love God or just love his gifts, whether we continue to fol-low his call in darkness and dryness as well as in light and consolation; 3. it is a time when God lets us experience our own poverty and need. We see more clearly that the free gift of consolation is not something we can control, buy, or make our own. These Ignatian guidelines are geared for beginning Christians. When explained properly, they can be helpful in giving beginning pray-ers some insight into what might be happening in their prayer. Leading People into Prayer / 341 Prayer in Direction I invite those I direct to take time, if they are comfortable in doing so, to join me in prayer at the beginning and/or at the end of our ses-sions together. My/our prayer might be spontaneous or more formal. As we begin, the prayer is a simple petition inviting God to be a part of our time together and asking for the guidance of the Holy Spirit. As we end, the prayer might be a moment of thanksgiving or praise to God for the ways in which the Spirit works in our lives and in the process of spiri-tual direction. It is important not to force this. Beginners in prayer are not usually very comfortable praying out loud or spontaneously. At the same time, such prayer does sensitize beginning pray-ers to the importance of con-tinually inviting God to enter into their lives and of noticing and acknowl-edging the ways in which God can and does act in their lives. Conclusion My experience is that leading people to prayer is an art and not a sci-ence. There is no one textbook approach that works for everyone. Prayer is something very personal and unique. It is a special relationship that develops over time between God and the pray-er. People come to prayer in their own good time and way. As a spiritual director, I cannot make prayer happen; but I can help to facilitate this loving relationship. In work-ing with beginners in prayer, I do not apply the suggestions I have of-fered in this article in any structured or systematic way; but I have found that there are certain common themes and experiences that it is good for me as a spiritual director to be aware of as I seek to lead people under the influence and guidance of the Holy Spirit into a life of prayer. Marian Year: A Prolonged, Ardent Pentecost Gene Barrette, M.S. Father Barrette last wrote for us in the November/December 1987 issue. The pre-sent article has been adapted from a letter of his to the La Salette Missionaries, of whom he is the superior general. His address: Missionari di N. S. de la Salette; Pi-z, zza Madonna della Salette, 3; 00152 Roma, Italy. I'leturning to Rome from Argentina on June 6, 1987, after nearly twenty-four hours of travel, I was only hazily aware of the events of that day. I noticed some members of my community in front of the TV joining the Holy Father as he prayed the rosary at St. Mary Major's Basilica. A Veri-table prayer chain around the world was formed as simultaneous trans-mission linked groups of the faithful praying in some of the major Marian shrines on five continents. Later in the evening a group from the house went to the Pentecost vigil celebrated in St. Peter's Square, a ceremony full of splendor and evocative images of fire and flowers. These were festivities marking the pope's official opening of the second Marian Year in the history of the Church. This special year, which will close on the feast of the Assumption, 1988, was launched with media fanfare, receiv-ing extensive TV and newspaper coverage here in Rome for a couple of days. And yet, I must humbly admit, in my own jet-lagged heart I felt little excitement or response. In fact, when the Marian Year was first announced, a little demon voice in me had muttered: "What is this man doing? Here the world is facing enormous problems: war, possible nuclear annihilation, the col-lapse of social structures, massive oppression and injustices, and moral confusion; and what does he hold out to the world? A Marian Year!" My 342 Marian Year / 343 initial reaction was not only less than enthusiastic, it was even slightly embarrassed. How shallow that reaction was! For what has Pope John Paul done? I believe he has done something very prophetic, prophetic in the same sense that La Salette is so pro-phetic. At La Salette Mary described a world suffering from famine, dis-ease, and turmoil. And yet what did she propose as a solution? Prayer, attendance at Mass, fasting--in a word, conversion. She proposed solu-tions that in the eyes of the world certainly could only appear "foolish." And so too, perhaps in the eyes of the world or, even worse, in our own worldly eyes, the pope's proclamation of a Marian Year as an important way to prepare for the Third Millennium may seem foolish. But it is the kind of foolishness that in the eyes of God is, in fact, wisdom. In proclaiming a Marian Year, the pope is saying to all of us: "Be-hold your mother!" Yes, this is a year that can help us behold and relate to this maternal reality which is life-giving and life-nurturing; and the life that Mary gives and nurtures is precisely the Christ-life so desper-ately needed in the famine of our days. Yes, behold our mother; behold the woman who is our privileged doorway to Christ, Christ who in fact is the only true answer to the fragmentations, oppressions, and forces of nonlife and darkness threatening our today and shadowing our tomorrow. Any word or act that leads us to this heart of our reality is prophetic. Bringing Mary Out Of Eclipse It is no e×aggeration to say that Marian devotion suffered a diminu-tion during the past twenty-five years or so. Some blame the Vatican Council, others hold theologians at fault. And yet no council has ever spoken so beautifully of Mary as does Lumen Gentium, nos. 52-69. Promi-nent theologians such as Karl Rahner, Schillebeeckx, and even the non- Catholic Max Thurian have written exquisitely on Mary. Bishops' con-ferences have issued pastoral letters on Mary, such as the American bish-ops' beautiful letter Behold Your Mother. The eclipse came as an over-reaction to excesses that at times existed in some Marian devotions; the eclipse also came because our attention was focused on other essential aspects of our Christian, ecclesial life. But Mary is so integral a part of the fabric of our faith that she can-not remain in eclipse. In fact, in Argentina Cardinal Primatesta, in a con-ference to the members of the Council of the Congregation, went on at great length to emphasize that it is Marian devotion that has preserved the Christian faith of the Latin American people over the centuries. This great gift cannot remain in eclipse. :344/Review for Religious, May-June 1988 Through the Marian Year, Pope John Paul wants to put dramatically before our eyes and our hearts this life-giving reality that is Mary, Mother of Christ, Mother of the Church; your mother and mine. We are not dealing with pious images or metaphors nor with devotional projec-tions; we are dealing with a reality present to us. Do we recognize this presence? Is it vital for us? Permit me to use an analogy to help me get my point across. Walk outside and look up into the air. Do you hear music or voices and see images? Of course not. And yet that seemingly clear air is full of sounds and images. All you need is a radio or TV and click--you capture them. You hear the music and the voices, you see the pictures. All you need is the proper instrument, properly tuned and with a power source. It is the same thing with the presence of God, the Lord, the Spirit--and yes, of Mary. They are real presences. But unless we have our minds and hearts empowered by the Spirit, attuned in faith, then there is no way that we can be aware of these presences; no way that we can respond to them; no way that we can be touched and transformed by them. In a cer-tain sense the Marian Year is a "tuning time" for us; tuning in to the presence of Mary to her people. How sad it would be not to take advan-tage of this gift. This Spirit-inspired invitation of the Holy Father to give Mary her rightful place in our lives is not intended to lead us simply to a superfi-cial polishing-up of Marian devotion. It is actually a call to enter into the richness and the profound meaning of a Marian spirituality. As John Paul's recent encyclical Redemptoris Mater suggests, it is a question of seeing Mary not simply as part of our "doctrine of faith," but much more of Mary as part of our "life of faith." Mary is the prototype for our own stance before God and the world. Mary has led and continues to lead the way on our pilgrimage of faith. Recognizing that and actively drawing strength from that reality is one way of insuring that Mary will no longer live in a sort of eclipse. This is not the place for a treatise on the fundamentals of a Marian theology. I simply encourage you all to give Redemptoris Mater a prayer-ful, meditative reading. The encyclical, plus chapter VIII in Lumen Gen-tium, gives an excellent summary of Mariology. In these pages I simply want to point out some aspects of Mary that can touch our life of faith; points that may.be light and food for our own journey. Mary: Model for Our Pilgrimage of Faith A recurring phrase in the pope's encyclical is Mary's place in the "pilgrimage of faith" (6, 14, 25, and 26 especially). The whole image Marian Year / 345 of the pilgrimage of faith is a dynamic one capturing the movement, the evolution, the story of a people, of individuals. What is this "pilgrimage of faith" that the Church has lived out through space and time in her individual members? The pope says that its essential character is interior, a "question of a pilgrimage through faith, by the 'power of the Risen Lord,' a pilgrimage in the Holy Spirit" (RM 25). The essential element of this interior pilgrimage is the response that each person gives to the encounter with the Holy Spirit. The faith-response of yes-~offiat, a total "obedience of faith" to the Spirit invit-ing into God's plan-~creates a receptive space for the conception and birthing of Jesus. This pilgrimage of faith is of crucial importance not only because of what it accomplishes in the individual, but more because of what is accomplished through the individual: making Christ present in the world. And Mary, in a unique and special way, is present to and part of this ongoing pilgrimage. "Mary is present, as the one who is 'blessed be-cause she believed,' as the one who advanced on the pilgrimage of faith, sharing unlike any other creature in the mystery of Christ . Among all believers she is like a 'mirror' in which are reflected in the most pro-found and limpid way 'the mighty works of God' " (RM 25). Mary is the prototype and model for all faith-pilgrims. And what can we learn when we look at her response? We discover that "to believe means 'to abandon oneself' to the truth of the word of the living God ¯ . . accepting fully and with a ready heart everything that is decreed in the divine plan., a complete openness to the person of Christ, to his whole work, to his whole mission" (RM 14, 39). This total acceptance, this total giving oneself to God's plan, is evi-dent throughout Mary's life: in thefiat of the annunciation moment, in the journey to Bethlehem and the birth in such humble surroundings, in the flight to Egypt, in the "ponderings in her heart" during the early years, in the intercession at Cana, in the years of remaining in the back-ground during the preaching, teaching, and healing and on the fringe of the crowds adulating or condemning, at the foot of the cross, and then in the midst of the apostles for the empowering on Pentecost. Certainly it is not difficult to see in Mary the total gift of her person to serving the saving plan of the Father. Unique? Yes, Mary is. And yet we share in the same call, the same mission. As the American bishops stated in their pastoral letter: "Mary conceived in her heart with her whole being, before she conceived in her :346 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 womb. First came Mary's faith, then her motherhood. Faith is the key . All who truly follow Christ become 'mothers' of Christ, for by their faith they bring Him to birth" (Behold Your Mother, 71). This radical response of faith, as Cardinal Ratzinger effectively stated in a homily at St. Mary Major's on June 10, 1987, shows that Mary is "above all the sign of the fecundity of faith in history." The fecundity of faith is that it brought forth Life itself, which is Jesus. Je-sus is God's supreme entrance into history. It is in Jesus that God once and for all puts history on the road of salvation, of liberation, of com-pletion. Jesus is the ever present Life that transforms history. What bet-ter way, therefore, to move towards the third millennium than to look at Mary, the supreme example and model of the power of faith to bring Jesus into the world? The Marian Year is an invitation to do this. Mary: A Maternal Presence Mary is model for our pilgrimage of faith, but she is more. She is an accompanying maternal presence--guiding, interceding, helping with the sensitivity that only a mother can have. And that is also a reality-- she is truly a mother to each of as. Mary as mother of the human race, again, is not just poetry. It is clearly stated and established at the foot of the cross. "Woman, behold your son. Son, behold your mother." Mary as model is a great gift of the Father to us; but even more, Mary as mother is the great gift of the Father and the Son to us. Again, in the words of Pope John Paul, "Mary's motherhood which becomes man's inheritance is a gift; a gift which Christ himself makes personally to every individual . Of the essence of motherhood is the fact that it concerns the person. Motherhood always establishes a unique and unrepeatable relationship between two people: between mother and child and between child and mother" (RM 45). Mary is not "out there" somewhere; she is intimately linked with you and me, whether we pay attention to that link or not. This relationship is part of our reality. Turning and relating to Mary as our mother is not an appeal to senti-mentalism. Rather it is turning to a source of life. Again Cardinal Ratz-inger had a beautiful and suggestive image in his homily: "If the Church in its everyday life does not want to be reduced merely to an arid institu-tion or to an activism that burns itself out, it must look to Mary. Life can grow and develop only under the warmth of a maternal heart." It is there under the warmth of the mother's heart that life first begins and grows in the womb; and it is in the light and warmth of the love of a mother's heart that life continues to grow and be strengthened and made whole years and years after leaving the womb. This immense maternal Marian Year / 347 love Mary has for us has a transforming power. Why do we hesitate or simply neglect to reach out for and seize this maternal love? It may be just the thing that many of us and our people need to turn our lives around and become spaces open to the Spirit and be Christ-bearers. The picture of Mary as our mother certainly is central in Mary's ap-parition at La Salette. She began with the words "Come near, my chil-dren . . . I have great news to tell you." In these very opening words there is already great news: the news that we are her children, and there-fore she is our mother. While Cardinal of Cracow, the Holy Father gave a very insightful observation on the motherhood of Mary during a homily he preached on the occasion of the seventy-fifth anniversary of the presence of the La Salette Missionaries in Poland. Speaking of Mary as mother of the hu-man family, mother of the Church, he said, "We know well that a mother who loves cries more than once . . . and if among the Church-approved private apparitions of Mary there was lacking this Mary in tears, our image of maternal love would somehow be incomplete. The mother who loves, sometimes weeps. Even more when a grave danger menaces her child . Her maternal tears are a special proof of love, necessary for humanity, necessary for our people today." How often do we ourselves draw near to those tears of love? How often do we lead our people to those tears of love? ¯ The tears that Mary's love produces are shed in response to our own pain, our own suffering, our own danger, our own brokenness, our own sinfulness. Towards the end of Redemptoris Mater (51-52), the Holy Fa-ther refers to the lines from one of the Marian hymns after compline: "Loving mother of the Redeemer, gate of heaven, star of the sea, assist your people who have fallen, yet strive to rise again." He speaks of the great advances of recent times in human history. And yet, throughout the marvels of our journey in time and space with all the transformations we have witnessed, there remains a fundamental transformation, and that is the ongoing transformation from falling to rising, from death to life. As the Holy Father points out, "the Church sees Mary maternally present and sharing in the many complicated problems which today beset the lives of individuals, families, and nations, and she sees her helping the Christian people in the constant struggle between good and evil, to en-sure that it does not fall or, if it has fallen, that it rises again." This should resonate in each of us if we are sensitive to our own pil-grimage of faith with its rhythms of falling and rising, with its experi-ence of our fragilities and infidelities, with our failings and beginnings 341~/Review for Religious, May-June 1988 anew. Such is our experience as individuals; such is our experience as a community, as a congregation, as a Church, as God's people. Mary's appeal at La Salette certainly relates to our need for conver-sion. (Is the same thing perhaps happening today at Medjugorje?) Yet why do we shy away from this gift offered to us? Why are we so often indifferent, blas6 about these obvious signs of maternal love rushing to us, children in danger, children in pain, children needing help? Is it that we feel that we are big boys now, grown up, ~tnd therefore no longer need-ing this consolation, this warmth, this encouragement, this drying of our own tears, and this loving embrace that helps us believe in our own good-ness and the Spirit's action sending us onwards in new beginnings again and again? The Marian Year can be the privileged occasion for us to re-discover this great gift if we have been neglecting it, or to deepen our love for it if we have not forgotten it. Mary: Continued Presence in Mission to Us Mary, model for us on the pilgrimage of faith; Mary, continued pres-ence as mother. Let us now look at Mary and her own mission, which continues today. As Redemptoris Mater (21) reminds us, Mary's own sense of mis-sion began to be felt at Cana. There we see Mary's solicitude, her com-ing to people in the wide variety of their wants and needs. This solici-tude has certainly been manifested during this last century and a half in her apparitions, especially at La Salette, where her caring wrung tears from her heart. Mary's mission has a twofold movement. She comes to the aid of human needs, but this means that she brings those needs within the ra-dius of Christ's salvific power, as she shows at Cana. At La Salette this is seen in the image we have of the two children, representing our bro-kenness and neediness, being drawn into the radiance that streamed from the crucifix, the ultimate symbol of Christ's saving love. "Thus there is a mediation: Mary places herself between her son and mankind in the reality of their wants, needs, and sufferings . Her mediation is in the nature of intercession: Mary intercedes for mankind" (RM 21), a truth echoing Mary's own words at La Salette, "How long a time have I suf-fered for you . " Lumen Gentium (62) described this same reality: "Taken up to heaven, she did not lay aside this saving role, but by her manifold acts of intercession continues to win for us gifts of eternal sal-vation." This mediation, this mission, this divine pastoral, we might say, continues in the history of the Church and the world. Marian Year / 349 Karl Rahner describes Mary's life as "the archetypal apostolic event . What the apostolate is can be read from her and what she did; she is a productive pattern for the apostolate, not a mere ideal instance of its abstract essence" ("Mary and the Apostolate," Mission and Grace, vol. 1, p. 181). He then outlines some of the characteristics ob-servable in Mary's apostolate. They can serve for reflection on our own apostolate during this Marian Year. In the apostolate of Mary: a) There is a consciousness of its being a mission given from above. (How vivid is this conviction for our own life and ministry?) b) She shows a capacity to wait for the right moment, to know that the mission is to be fulfilled in God's time and manner. (Does not much of our own discouragement at times come from relying too exclusively on our own power, our own schedule, our own programs?) c) There is self-withdrawal behind the person she serves; most of her life is hidden, it is Christ who is brought to the fore. d) There is loyal perseverance. Mary did not merely say yes once, in one great moment. She sustained that yes patiently, silently, con-stantly in the serene assurance of the true believer, in the mature sim-plicity of real greatness, throughout a whole lifetime. (How strongly do we strive for this in our age of easily abandoned commitments? How con-scious are we of deepening this yes every day?) e) There is the cross, a heart stabbed through with the sword of suf-fering together with her Son; there is even the noncomprehension of the decrees of God and of the actions of the Lord himself whom she served. It is an apostolate of hope against hope, of faith before victory is won, of a venture whose reward is not paid in advance, of a loyalty that gives all. (To what extent can we find this spirit of sacrifice, of trust, during our darkest and driest moments in our own lives?) These are foundations for a ~olid Marian spirituality inserted into the very fabric of our apostolic call and going way beyond simple devotion. Yes, Mary is there for us as model for our apostolate. But even more, she is there as a source of the help that we need. Not help with this or that small favor, but help for our deepest need--help in being effective Christ-bearers. Mary's Magnificat Finally, Mary serves as a powerful example and model of the capac-ity to recognize what God has done and is doing in our lives. Her Mag-nificat is precisely this: Mary's personal experience of God's action in herself and in her people. This consciousness compels her to break out 350 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 into simple and wholly inspired praise, boldly proclaiming the undimmed truth about God, who "has done great things" in her as well as in the whole universe (RM 37). Mary was truly attuned to what God was accomplishing. Could we not write our own Magnificat---on a personal level and on a community level? I recall how touched I was in Angola upon hearing of a mission community having its yearly meeting with its satellite communities. The celebration began with the recounting of their history: how the commu-nity had started, the first ones involved, the failure of the first commu-nity, the second effort, the people involved, the priests who served them. And this was not simply read, but was corrected and added to by the mem-bers themselves. They were recounting the Lord's deeds, the great things he had done for them. And in this regular exercise they were keeping this reality vividly before them. What a beautiful way to attune one's heart and mind to the reality to which we can so often become blinded! The Magnificat is also used extensively as a solid Marian light which makes us vividly aware of God's love of preference for the poor, the hum-ble, and how this is intimately connected with the Christian meaning of freedom and liberation--of redemption. Here again Mary has her place. She can serve as an inspiration in this aspect of the Christian mission be-cause, as stated in the Instruction on Christian Freedom and Liberation published in 1986, "Mary is totally dependent upon God and completely directed towards him, and at the side of her Son she is the most perfect image of freedom and of the liberation of humanity and of the universe" (97). Mary helps us understand that the most radical source of true lib-eration of individuals and even structures is precisely this total surren-der or, as she reminds us at La Salette, this submission to God and his plan for us. Without a revolution of the heart, merely political and so-cial revolutions only lay the foundations for the.next revolution in an end-less chain of humanly oppressive and destructive revolts. Mary proclaims the great things that God does, but these are done for those "who fear him," those who not only are poor and lowly, but have surrendered to him. Mary calls, in a variety of ways, to this radical revolution, which is first and foremost conversion. There is much richness to. draw from here and in other truths about Mary, such as her role in the growing appreciation of the feminine as-pect of the divine presence and the Church. Mary truly offers a seem-ingly inexhaustible source of faith reflection. And again, the Marian Year is an invitation to do such reflection. Marian Year / 351 How Celebrate the Marian Year? Concretely, what are some of the things we can do to benefit from this year of grace? First of all, spend time with Mary. It is as plain and as simple as that. If we are not already doing so, we should make time for her in our day. Let us do like the apostle John and welcome Mary, take her into our own home. Let us bring her into everything that makes up our inner life; that is to say, let us take her into our human and Christian "I," as the pope beautifully expressed it (RM 45). This is the first step: profess our faith in Mary's great love and presence by simply spending time with her and opening our hearts, our lives, as wide as possible to her maternal love. Prayerfully read Redemptoris Mater and other texts on Mary. Again, do this to feed the heart more than the head. Avoid reading only the kinds of works that foster such a strong analytical, critical spirit that one ends up with slices and splices, theological abstractions about Mary, but not with a living presence. Read not to try to dispel the mystery that natu-rally accompanies any great truth of our faith, but read to encounter this mystery with ever greater love. Read and pray to move from professing to living a deep love for Mary, Mother of Christ and of the Church. If some of us have left the rosary aside, let us explore ways to begin to re-discover its possibilities for reflection, for rhythmic, simple centering on Jesus and Mary. If you have a good imagination, use it. St. Ignatius in his Spiritual Exercises does not neglect this tremendous power that we have. In re-cent. years we have easily dismissed using the imagination in prayer and meditation, often because of our climate of high intellectualization, often from a desire to quickly arrive at more advanced levels of prayer. My own suggestion is to try imaging as you spend time with Mary. The re-sults may surprise you. Visualize Mary with you in every situation of your life and of her life. Talk to her, let her talk to you. Let her hold what is still the child in you that may be trembling with fear, doubt, an-ger, confusion, fatigue. Hear her call you by name; hear her invite you to come near; hear her send you forth. Write your own Magnificat. Spend time tracing the great things God has done both in your own life and in the congregation. Recognize God's action in the flesh and blood of your own history: when and how he looked with favor on his lowly servant; when and how he smashed and scattered you in your pride, cast you down from any little thrones you had set up for yourself, or sent you away aware of how empty you re-ally were when you thought you were so rich; how and when he lifted 352 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 you up even as you experienced most forcefully your own lowliness. Put all that into concrete, vivid terms. And then give praise. Then write your own fiat. Look into the depths of your present and look out towards the possible future and with conviction spell out the fiat, the yes, even though you are not sure of the cost, the possible ex-iles, the shape or duration of the cross you may have to carry, to climb upon. "Yes--be it done to me according to your word." Yes, I let go of my plans, my conditions. I surrender, I submit. Fiat! Again, spell that out in the concrete terms of your own life. At the same time, offer a prayer to Mary asking for her assistance to live out thisfiat as fully and as deeply as possible. And let us not fail the people we serve. Invite them to Mary. Let us attract and lead them to what the pope calls the "specific geography of faith and Marian devotion., these special places of pilgrimage where the People of God seek to meet the Mother of God in order to find, within the radius of the maternal presence of her 'who believes,' a strengthening of their own faith" (RM 28). Our shrines, our programs of devotion, all these can be sources of grace through Mary for the con-tinuing pilgrimage of faith. Be creative in bringing Mary to people and people to Mary. I close with words from our Holy Father's prayer for the Marian Year: "Mary, you received Jesus with ready obedience and undivided heart. You allowed yourself to be led by the Holy Spirit's hidden and powerful action. Sustain us, O Virgin Mary, on our journey of faith." My own prayer for all of us echoes the pope's prayer at a Mass re-cently in Foggia: "May this Marian Year be for individual souls and for the entire community a prolonged, ardent Pentecost." Personal Responsibility in .Initial Formation Melannie Svoboda, S.N.D. Sister Melannie's most recent contribution to this journal is her "Quotations for Com-munity" in the January/February 1988 issue. She may be addressed at Notre Dame Educational Center; 13000 Auburn Road; Chardon, Ohio 44024. For most formation directors, one thing is clear: One of our main con-cerns in the initial formation process is to encourage personal responsi-bility in the persons we direct. What is less clear is the answers to these questions: What exactly is personal responsibility? Why is it so impor-tant in initial formation? How can we encourage it in our directees? What are some signs that a person is, indeed, growing in personal responsibil-ity? And what are some of the obstacles to our encouraging of personal responsibility? This article attempts to explore some answers to these questions. It is based on a series of discussions that our initial-formation team had this past year. I am indebted to our candidate director, Sister Annete Adams, and our director of temporary professed, Sister Mary Catherine Caine, for their valuable input on this topic. Although we were primarily inter-ested in personal responsibility in initial formation, much of what is said here can also apply to the ongoing formation process as well. What is personal responsibility? It is perhaps easier to describe personal responsibility than it is to define it. We saw personal responsibility as a person's ability to make good decisions and to accept the consequences of his or her decisions. Such decisions are made freely; they are not made out of fear or guilt or coercion. The decisions or choices are basically good; that is, they are 353 354 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 based on Gospel ~alues and they are motivated by love. They take into consideration factors other than the person's own feelings and prefer-ences. And, finally, the decisions are open to the Spirit and open to change as life presents the individual with more knowledge, more expe-riences, and more insights. Why is personal responsibility so important? There are a number of reasons why personal responsibility is so im-portant in initial formation. One reason concerns one of the goals of the initial-formation process: the making of a life commitment. Such a com-mitment is valid only if it is made freely, with adequate knowledge and understanding, and if it proceeds from love. In other words, the very mak-ing of valid vows presupposes personal responsibility. But personal responsibility extends beyond the making of a commit-ment; it is essential for the living of such a commitment in a healthy and happy way. Once a person "graduates" from the "schoo| of initial for-mation," he or she is expected to assume responsibility for his or her own growth and development. It is crucial, then, that formation direc-tors see and encourage personal responsibility throughout the initial-formation process. A third reason why personal responsibility is so vital concerns the nature of religious life today. The many changes in the structures of re-ligious life since Vatican II call for far more personal responsibility than in the past. Changes in our understanding of the vows and community also put far greater emphasis on an individual's ability to make good de-cisions and choices. How can we encourage personal responsibility? If personal responsibility is so important in initial formation, what are some of the ways we can encourage it in the persons we direct? One way we can encourage it is to talk about it. We do this not once and for all, but over and over again, in a variety of ways, from different per-spectives as the person grows and matures in the initial-formation proc-ess. We should talk about personal responsibility in both a general way and a specific way. In a general way we discuss with them the nature and importance of personal responsibility. In a specific way we talk with them one on one about how responsible they are. This means we have to ask some probing questions such as these: When and where are you praying? How do you see yourself carrying out your duties such as study, housework, your involvement in community? What are your responsi-bilities in your current ministry and how are you handling them? What Personal Responsibility in Formation / 355 personal decisions or choices have you made recently? Do you see these decisions or choices as good? Why or why not? How are you getting along with the people you live with and work with? Do they see you as a responsible person or not? A second way to encourage personal responsibility is to allow the per-son in formation the freedom to make choices--both good choices and not-so-good choices. This means that as directors we allow an individ-ual to make mistakes. It has been my experience as novice director that some of the worst choices my novices made were some of the most bene-ficial for their growth. Thirdly, we encourage personal responsibility by affirming a person when we see him or her assuming personal responsibility. We can also encourage it by allowing our directees to live with and work side by side with professed members of the community who have achieved a healthy level of personal responsibility. Nothing teaches better than example. What are some signs of personal responsibility in a person? What are some tangible signs that a person in formation is assuming personal responsibility? For brevity's sake, I will merely list some of those signs as we saw them: The person: --gives evidence of self-knowledge and self-esteem --is basically happy and at ease with life --is able to learn from experience --is able to do things he or she does not like to do --gives evidence of being essentially self-directed ~isplays a consistency between stated beliefs and choices --is able to draw from a variety of sources when making serious deci-sions --gives evidence that he or she has thought through and prayed over the more serious decisions he or she has to make --is open to suggestions and direction --is able to deal with irresponsibility in others; this means he or she can accept it when necessary, but also is able to confront it when this would be the more appropriate option --is consistent in behavior no matter who is or is not present --gives evidence of a healthy interdependence with others --assumes initiative ---can deal with boredom or routine 356 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 --- can handle both failure and success What are some obstacles to encouraging personal responsibility? As formation directors, what are some of the obstacles we face in trying to encourage persona.I responsibility in the persons we direct? I think the main obstacles come from three different sources: our directees, the wider community, and ourselves. Sometimes the persons we have in initial formation make it difficult for us to encourage personal responsibility. Some individuals come to religious life desiring to hand over all personal responsibility in the name of holiness. They come to us with a tell-me-what-to-do-and-I-will-do-it attitude. In sharp contrast, others enter religious life equating personal responsibility with let-me-do-whatever-I-want-to-do. Both types make it difficult for formation directors to encourage a healthy personal respon-sibility. Other times one of our obstacles may be members of the wider com-munity. Some professed members may possess an obsolete understand-ing of initial formation which says, "Tell the novice what to do. If she does it, fine. If she doesn't, tell her to leave." When a formation direc-tor, in the name of freedom, allows a person in formation to make a poor choice, other members might cry out: "You're letting her get away with murder!" At times like these, formation directors must be convinced that there is much more to formation than having a directee make what ap-pear to be "the right choices all the time." But the greatest obstacle to encouraging personal responsibility usu-ally lies within ourselves as formation directors. We can fall into two "camps" depending on our personalities. If I, as a director, am a per-son who likes to be in control, then I might want to control my directees too much. This means I might not allow them the real freedom to make their own decisions and thus to grow through them. Perhaps I might con-trol their choices through force or even charm. Perhaps, in the name of saving them the pain of a poor choice, I might tell them what to do. Or maybe I control their decisions for fear of what the next director or the wider community will think of me. On the other hand, if I am fearful of my authority as a formation di-rector, I might adopt a laissez-faire style of direction. This means I might let anything and everything go. I might not challenge the persons in for-mation. I may be afraid to question the choices I see them making. Be-cause most communities have so few in initial formation, I might be tempted to "keep" everyone no matter how much irresponsibility I see. Personal Responsibility in Formation / 357 In conclusion, then, we have seen that growth in personal responsi-bility is an integral part of the initial-formation process. But more than that, it is an intrinsic component of lifelong happiness. Someone has said, "There can be no happiness if the things we believe in are differ-ent from the things we do." Through the encouragement of personal re-sponsibility, formation directors can help individuals achieve greater har-mony between belief and behavior. Your World is Your World, mythirst. Love, will all these as beautiful earthly treasures as the one stillbemine? You give me orshall I each day? lose forever will I see thesmell the changing of burning leaves, of the sky., noreveragain will I watch see the trees the birds fly ofmy autumn days beyond my horizon., change their dress? will I feel wherewill the touch all these be, of warm water Love. ? as it caresses oh! surely, my flesh, I'll have or its cold them all coolness in having You! as it slakes Claire Mahaney, R.S.C.J. Valparaiso Community 140 Valparaiso Avenue Menlo Park, California 94025 Refounding Through Values Barbara D. Ledig Ms. Ledig is president of Omega Associates, Inc., in Santa Clara, California. With others from Omega, she has for almost ten years helped religious orders and congre-gations to adjust, with value-based systemic discernment, to the significant changes of the post-Vatican II world. This paper explains the theory and practice of Omega's methods, methods that will be used in the August 1988 workshop for religious lead-ership personnel to be held at Santa Clara University and sponsored by that university and by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. She may be addressed at 410 Pinehurst Avenue; Los Gatos, CA 95030. What is happening in our institutions today? This question is being fre-quently asked by religious congregations, educational institutions, health-care facilities, and,~more recently, sectors of business and industry. It seems that the guidelines and structures that characterized these systems since their first formal beginnings have become increasingly unfocused. This is unsettling not only for those who administer and lead these institutions but for those affected by them. A major portion of society, therefore, is dealing with a shift that is little understood, a shift accom-panied by anxiety and indecision. Solutions that once worked have be-come obsolete and there are no models for new ones. Our religious institutions are experiencing this shift more profoundly than many others in that they have been around for a longer time. They are, therefore, further away from their beginnings, beginnings rooted an historical reality very different from the one in which we are currently living. Members of these institutions are finding that the ideas on which they were built and the type of management that enabled them to sur-vive and flourish are no longer working. The population of religious per-sonnel who drive these institutions is diminishing; as a result people who do not necessarily share the original values that gave birth to them are 358 Refounding Through Values / 359 the ones responsible for making decisions regarding the way they func-tion and how they will be carried into the future. An Historical Perspective The extreme change in the Western world resulting from the French and American Revolutions and the Industrial Revolution in England led to the birth of the great teaching and mission orders of the 1800s. These orders, especially those of women, generally came to operate on a basis of uniformity in dress, behavior, and prayer, with detailed rules and con-stitutions regulating daily life. It was through Vatican II in the 1960s that these issues were readdressed and the Church began to return to a more flexible, collegial orientation and urged religious congregations to re-study and return to their founding charism. Communal life in the convents, and seminaries, where often a hun-dred or more people shared living quarters, began to take the form of small communities for the purpose of increasing the quality of life through relationships in which personal growth could more readily be en-couraged and nurtured. The ultimate goal was increased unity in the Church for the purpose of common mission. The vision was a good one but did not anticipate sufficiently the wide range of skills needed to cope with a radically changed environment and more complex interpersonal relationships. The old hierarchical structures and lines of authority were removed or became unclear, and participative decision making was en-couraged. The effects of these changes increased dramatically over the years and are now being experienced in their extreme. The Dynamics of Transition The removal of clear lines of authority has created multiple handi-caps for those in leadership positions. When clear rules dictate what is right and wrong and when authority is vested in one person, as was the case before Vatican II, decisions can be made on objective criteria that are commonly understood and accepted. When these lines of authority become hazy, when the guidelines are unclear, decision making becomes a more complex issue. Personal and communal discernment, methods that have replaced the more authoritarian ones for decision making, re-spect the integrity of the individual on the one hand but require a more complex level of skills on the other. There has been a shift from a rigid structure to a more flexible one. During the last seven years our work with numerous national and inter-national congregations has, however, shown that this shift is incomplete. Most religious institutions are resting somewhere between a hierarchi- 360/Review for Religious, May-June 1988 cal, rule-oriented structure and a flexible, collegial one. The result is con-fusion, internal conflict, and tremendous stress on leadership. It is a time of difficult transition. Older sisters and priests who have given their lives to build these in-stitutions in order to provide relief to the suffering through their minis-tries feel unappreciated and confused about changing a way that was once so strongly validated. Younger sisters and priests are also experiencing confusion about the past as well as the uncertain futures into which their congregations are moving. The dynamics of such a transition are two-fold. There is a pull back to the old, secure model on the one hand and an equally strong pull to move quickly to a new model on the other. Mem-bers of a congregation caught in the first dynamic may become rigid, an-gry, and controlling while those in the second are prone to overly inde-pendent behaviors. In both cases there is a loss of meaning. These dy-namics are not necessarily related to the different age groups within the congregation but appear to be more dependent on the personalities of the individuals. Going back is not possible, nor desirable. What once worked was ap-propriate for the times. Society has changed, our institutions have changed, and people have changed. How do we bring clarity, unity, and efficiency into our institutions so that they can serve the function for which they were created and at the same time enable them to respect and dignify the growth and well-being of the individuals they serve? The hi-erarchical structures that once worked so well must change in form to meet the demands of this new age and become flexible structures that fa-cilitate caring for individual members and releasing the original energy of the charism of the congregation. The values that gave birth to the in-stitution must be renewed and preserved so they 'can flow through its mem-bers and be expressed in mission, but the way in which those values are expressed must change. The structures that have been removed must be replaced by value-oriented ones. In order to effect this change the insti-tution must first become clear about what values lie at the heart of its system. The core center of values, the faith center, must be identified and clarified. Once this is accomplished the clarified core values, imple-mented by historically congruent means, provide the new structures which enable appropriate adaptation to the future. The Nature of Values Values are not a new phenomenon in our society. Aristotle and Plato spoke of them in the light of ideals, or virtues. They were dealt with mainly in the abstract in terms of states of being to be strived for. Refounding Through Values / 36"1 St. Paul spoke of values in his letter to the Galatians: "Anyone can see the kind of behavior that belongs to the lower nature: fornication, im-purity, and indecency; idolatry and sorcery; quarrels, a contentious tem-per, envy, fits of rage, selfish ambitions, dissensions, party bouts, or-gies, and the like . But the harvest of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, fidelity, gentleness, and self-control" (Ga 5:19-23 NEB). In this case values were seen as signs that differentiated behaviors guided by the Spirit from those that were not. In more recent history we have the value-clarification movement of the 1960s and in the 1980s the high point of value consciousness in busi-ness and industrial settings brought forth largely by such books as In Search of Excellence by Peters and Waterman, Theory Z: How Ameri-can Business Can Meet the Japanese Challenge by Ouchi, and Corpo-rate Cultures: The Rites and Rituals of Corporate Life by Deal and Ken-nedy. However, the reality is that it has been difficult to work with values because they tend to elude the possibility for practical application and measurement. The work of Omega Associates, Inc., of Santa Clara, Cali-fornia has been focused on value research for the past twenty years. Dur-ing this period of time we have worked on discovering ways to identify and measure values so that they can be used more creatively to enhance the quality of human life. The first step in this ongoing process was the identification of 125 value words in the written and spoken language. We found that these val-ues appear consistently throughout the life span of individuals and or-ganizations and appear to be stable and evident across all social strata, languages, and cultures. They constitute one segment of a values theory developed by Brian Hall, Benjamin Tonna, and more recently Barbara Ledig which is the basis for an understanding of how values on the indi-vidual and corporate level work. The values theory holds as a basic assumption that language influ-ences behavior, whether it is written language, spoken language, or the language of art and architecture. Some words and groups of words have a greater effect on behavior than others, and we call these words values. The value words we identified form the basis for computerized programs which analyze values in individuals, groups, institutions, and documents and serve as a framework through which we can look at all sections of a system through a common denominator. The basis of the framework is the 125 values. The principles which guide the understanding of how 362 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 the values work are found in the values theory. Values Theory and the Genesis Effect The basic concept underlying the values theory is taken from an an-cient idea that has only recently been confirmed by modern science. That is, each thought, feeling, and action is preceded by an internal image. That image is transformed into action through language, the language of values. Value words are conveyers of energy and form configurations that reflect the internal imaging process through human or organizational behavior. That is, they identify clusters of human experience and act as a bridge between the inner world of thoughts, feelings, sensations, and intuitions and the outer world of concrete reality. Values are understood in this context as behavioral priorities that an individual acts on. This proc-ess has been defined by Hall as the "genesis effect" in a book by the same name and is based on the biblical concept that it was through, the spoken word that God transformed an inner image of creation into real-ity. In the beginning, when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless wasteland, and darkness covered the abyss, while a mighty wind swept over the waters. Then God said, "Let there be !ight," and there was light. God saw how good the light was . Then God said: "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. Let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, the birds of the air, and the cat-tle, and over all the wild animals and all the creatures that crawl on the ground." God created man in his image; in the divine image he created him; male and female he created them (Gn 1:1-4, 26-27 NAB). Values and Their Patterns To identify and clarify our values is a step in the right direction, but what do we do with them after that? Our research has shown us that it is not so much values in themselves that are important, but the way in which they combine with other values in one's life and the priority these combinations take at a given time. We have long been aware of some of the value combinations and the way they can be grouped into clusters and patterns. However, a significant point was reached in our work just six years ago due to new advances in computer technology. Brian Hall and associates of Omega in cooperation with students in the Graduate Di-vision of Counseling Psychology and Education at Santa Clara Univer-sity in Santa Clara, California, discovered new ways to measure and ap-ply values and new ways to break them into patterns and clusters so that they could be compared and contrasted more extensively. This gave us Refounding Through Values more comprehensive information regarding their meaning in the life of persons and institutions. Since that time we have validated our meth-odologies and applied them extensively in religious, educational, and health-care systems involving several international cultures and over 6,000 individuals. The information we obtain from the identification and comparison of value priorities and clusters is used to do a value analysis for the pur-pose of understanding the qualitative nature of the values and their rela-tionship to the meaning system of the individual or the institution. Once this is clear, rigid rule-oriented structures can be replaced by new life-giving ones based on the energy and purpose inherent in the individual or system rather than on external, objective criteria that may be histori-cally biased. Value Pattern I: Phases and Stages In this value pattern we see the 125 values placed along a progres-sive developmental scale divided into phases and stages. The range of the phases is from I to IV with those most basic to human life and devel-opment falling into Phase I. These values progressively become more com-plex as the human being grows and develops, with Phase IV reflecting values of maximum complexity requiring high levels of intellectual, spiri-tual, and emotional development and an environment that supports their expression. This developmental scale does not assume a positive or negative value but rather places emphasis on the integration of the values in the life journey of the individual or the institution in terms of the skill de-velopment needed in order to live them out behaviorally. It is the com-bination of the values and how they fall against the backdrop of the four phases in relationship to one another that determines the quality of life expression. Each of the four phases is divided into two stages, an A stage and a B stage. Values in the A stages are personal values, and values in the B stages are those lived out primarily through institutional interaction. These institutions include the family, place of work, church or syna-gogue, government structures, and religious congregation. Because a per-son's value choices are always limited and influenced by the institutions in which he or she lives and works, the degree to which this interaction can be measured and understood influences the degree to which the per-son can have clarity about the environment's effect on the quality of his or her life. The end result is heightened insight and the ability to make more focused choices. Likewise, an institution can become aware of the 3611 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 impact it is having on its members. Value Pattern II: Act, Choice, and Vision The value combinations in their phases and stages can also be pat-terned according to the priority they take in one's life in terms of pre-sent choices, past development, and emerging futures. Choice values are those that are the present focus of one's life in terms of time and energy expenditure. These choices are not always made freely but are condi-tioned by one's life circumstances. For example, a person may value his or her family a great deal, but if a crisis in the work place occurs he or she may have to work twelve hours a day until the crisis is resolved. In this case, the value of family would of necessity become secondary in terms of the time and energy available to be dedicated to it. Act values are those values that are foundational to human life. They are the basic values which enable survival and security in the world. When these values are threatened by a change in one's environment, such as a move to a new culture or the loss of a job, priority energy must be diverted from the areas of choice in order to deal with the change. Vision values are those values which energize us and pull us toward hopeful futures. They motivate us in the present by giving meaning our day-to-day experience and enabling us to see beyond ourselves and our present reality. In an institution, Act values serve as the foundation in terms of poli-cies, procedures, benefits, and so on. The Choice values are those which guide day-to-day direction and define the management structure. Vision values provide the purpose of the institution and affect the way in which Choice values are operationalized. Value Pattern III: Cycles A third value pattern emerges when the combinations of values in their personal and institutional dimensions form cycles of development. There are seven such cycles, and each has its own unique worldview. Information around the values in each of these cycles helps in the inter-pretation of an individual's or group's leadership and management style, ethical orientation, faith stance, management of time, and behavior pat-terns under stress. Of particular significance to professional religious per-sonnel are the different ways in which the vows can be understood at each of these cycles. The first cycle is called the Primal Cycle. At this cycle the individ-ual experiences the world as a hostile and alien place in which primary needs are those centered on security and survival. He or she emphasizes Refounding Through Values / 365 material possession because it is through material structures that survival is made possible. This is primarily the world of young children or aged adults who must depend on others to care for them and provide them with basic security. However, through the life journey most people will ex-perience values in this cycle from time to time, for we never lose our need for safety and security. The ethical stance of this cycle is one of self-interest which insures survival. A leader who operates primarily out of Cycle I values will have an autocratic and authoritarian style with his or her subordinates for the purpose of maintaining total control. Delegation comes with difficulty because it is perceived as a diminishment of personal power. God is ex-perienced as a savior who heals one's pain but who is distant and imper-sonal. The task at this cycle is to learn the skills needed to survive in an alien environment and to develop a creative and positive imagination that will facilitate healthy movement into other cycles. The second cycle is the Familial Cycle. As the world becomes less alien and new skills are learned, there is an emphasis placed on values related to belonging to a family, a particular group, or a respected insti-tution. It is important to learn skills that enable one to be accepted by and to contribute to the group. The ethical stance at this cycle is based on fairness and mutual re-spect. Laws and rules are expected to be followed so as to maintain an ordered environment. A leader operating out of this cycle will tend to be benevolent to those who work for him or her but will expect them to obey the rules. The attitude is best described as maternal or paternal in that followers are cared for but are not given any authority. This becomes problematic when the follower wants more autonomy and responsibility. At this cycle God is experienced as a parental master and teacher, through one's parents and through the ministerial figures in the church or synagogue. The primary task at this cycle is to learn skills through formal edu-cation and to begin to understand the world more broadly. Sound relig-ious education in the Faith and in Scripture are important. The third cycle is called the Institutional Cycle. It is here that the world begins to be experienced as less alien than before, and increased emphasis is placed on education as a means to achievement and success. There is often tension between the time spent with one's family and the time spent doing things necessary to enable the family to survive. 366/Review for Religious, May-June 1988 Ethical choices are most likely to be based on what the law and re-spected institutions say is right. A leader operating with priority values in this cycle will have a bureaucratic style and will place high value on efficient and orderly management. Loyalty to the company will be ex-pected and rewarded and disloyalty considered a serious offense. The bu-reaucratic leader may delegate to others but only to those who are most skilled and who have proven their loyalty. God is experienced as master and teacher and is often represented through the ministers and priests of the church. The sacramental life and personal prayer are considered important, as are institutional religion and commitment to a local church or synagogue. The primary task at this cycle is to learn interpersonal and social skills and the skills of one's profession. It is also a time to begin under-standing the difference between one's own values and the values held by one's family. It is a time of preparation for conversion to special service related to God's call. The fourth cycle is the Intrapersonal Cycle. At this time the world begins to be experienced as less certain than before, and new questions arise regarding previously held beliefs and attitudes. A search for new personal meaning and values may be embarked upon and the teachings of formerly respected institutions looked upon more critically. Profes-sional successes may become less important as the individual strives to discover his or her unique skills and abilities. There is a pull between a strong need for independence and meeting the demands of the institu-tions of which one is a part. Issues around social justice may take on new interest and lead to increased involvement in political or social arenas. The ethical orientation at the Intrapersonal Cycle becomes confused as one pulls away from old ways of making decisions and strives to put into action values that are beginning to create a new, more individual-ized way of assessing reality. A leader with priority values at this cycle will struggle between meeting the needs of the institution and being sen-sitive to the more personal needs of his or her employees. It is a time of confusion and of search for the balance between these two, often op-posing, factors. Hence, it may also be a time of inaction because it is simply too difficult to make decisions. This is a transitional stage of lead-ership, sometimes referred to as laissez-faire, for things are very often left to happen as they will. It is critical for persons operating at this cy-cle to learn the skills that enable them to make decisive decisions which meet both institutional needs and the needs of the individuals in the in- Refounding Through Values stitution; otherwise there is the risk of returning to a more bureaucratic and controlling management or leadership style. God is now becoming internal and personal as a friend and lover in-stead of master and teacher. For many, this period is marked by conver-sion to a new commitment to the Faith. The development of skills in the imaginal area is needed in order to see the world more wholistically and creatively. Meditation and spiritual exercises as well as attention to one's physical health are important for growth into a world that is experienced as more complex. It is important to find a p~rticular life-sustaining value system that enables a new com-mitment to faith. The fifth cycle is the Communal/Collaborative Cycle. Individuals functioning at this cycle will experience the world as a place in which they feel they can participate by using their unique skills in a productive way, The search is now concentrated on discovering new ways to inte-grate individual abilities with the needs of society. Because of the high level of interaction at which the individual is now functioning, issues of time management become critical. Persons at this cycle begin to see the world more clearly, resulting, in an increased awareness of issues around justice and oppression. It becomes impera-tive that they have support structures such as a group of respected peers and trusted friends as well as people of the same professional status and ability with whom ideas and problems can be shared regularly. Ethical choices at this cycle are based on the personally meaningful set of values that have developed, and actions are guided by an inner con-science. Laws are respected but not considered infallible. A charismatic and democratic leadership style becomes possible, for the individual has a new sense of personal creative energy and a renewed vision of an in-stitution that can be efficient and can dignify its members as well. Be-cause leaders of this type are in high demand, issues of time manage-ment, stress, and personal health are more important than ever. God now is experienced as a personal friend and companion sharing in the new ex-pression of the gifts that are becoming a part of the individual's life ex-perience. The sixth cycle is the Mystical Cycle. When individuals are able to acquire the skills, maturity, life experience, and integrated personal de-velopment which characterize this cycle, they begin to experience the world as a revered gift they must be responsible for and with which they must creatively interact. 3611/Review for Religious, May-June 1988 Ethical choices are based on an awareness of the rights of all human beings. Activities include doing those things necessary to diminish in-justices in institutions and organizations. A leader operating with the val-ues and skills of this cycle is called a Servant leader. Servant leadership is characterized by interdependence, mutual responsibility, collegiality, and creativity. Group decision making becomes a natural process, and authority is always used corporately. God is now lover, friend, and Lord of creation. Persons at this cycle experience humanity in a new, more complete way through God's eyes. Intimacy with others is a condition for intimacy with the divine and re-quires radical commitment to service and the contemplative side of one-self. This means balancing the personal experience of intimacy with con-templative solitude and obligations to work and service. Those persons who are able to achieve this high level of functioning must learn new skills, the most critical being the skills that will help them to balance their involvement in the development of just and humane in-stitutions with ample time for solitude and intimacy. It is this balance that will enable them to maintain the level of emotional, physical, men-tal, and spiritual integration necessary for being a powerful and yet posi-tive influence in the world. The seventh and last cycle is the Prophetic Cycle. The world here is viewed as a mystery for which "we" must care. "We" is used in this case as Prophetic leadership primarily expressed at a global level. It requires the collaboration of all institutions concerned with human dig-nity and justice. It is also expressed through being a member of a sup-portive community of peers who appreciate a global level of involve-ment. Global involvement assumes equal attention to local levels. Ethical choices at this cycle lead to involvement in activities de-signed to improve the balance between the world of material goods and the needs of each human being. Prophetic leadership is characterized by interdependence at an interinstitutional and global level and is concerned with global ethical issues centered in ecology, human rights, and tech-nological advancement. God is now experienced as the Lord of creation calling all people to cooperate in establishing a more just and ecologically balanced order in the world. A critical skill component of this high level of development is an awareness of the field of consciousness of all of the preceding cycles and the ability to interact with persons at each level. Spiritually, there is a new appreciation of God's Lordship over the whole creation and a reali- Refounding Through Values / 369 zation that all people are being called to cooperate with God in estab-lishing a more just and ecologically balanced order in the world. Value patterns I, II, and III are based on the perspective of the Hall value theory that holds that life is developmental. In this case time is ex-perienced as linear, moving from the past into the future. This is a help-ful way to view the values in their connection to skills as skills are learned step by step in the developmental process. In reality, however, our past and future can only be experienced in the present. Past devel-opment affects the quality of our lives in the present as do our envisioned futures. This brings us to value pattern IV, which sees life as wholistic, with past, present, and future forming the present reality. Value Pattern IV: Goals and Means Values The fourth value pattern is the combinations of Goals, which are long-term values, with Means, or short-term values. A large part of the analysis of values is concerned with this interactive, or dialectical, rela-tionship between Goals and Means. The significance of these combina-tions can be realized when one looks at the difference in the quality of the behavioral expression of different combinations of Goals and Means values. For example, when the value of Worship, a Goal value, is ex-pressed through the Means value of Institution, the behavioral conse-quence would be personal worship through institutionalized expressions such as attending Eucharist or praying the Liturgy of the Hours. When the same Goal value of Worship is expressed through the Means value of Expressiveness/Flexibility, the result may be worship through faith sharing, dance, or creative liturgy. Two people sharing the same Goal value may be at odds about how this Goal value is expressed. Likewise, persons in religious congregations, united by the same goals, may be di-vided in their opinions about the way in which these goals should be ex-pressed. Frequently, institutions have Goal values that are in keeping with the original vision on which they were founded, but have outdated Means values for reaching those goals. Understanding the Value Patterns: The Discernment Process The methodology for working with value information must be con-sistent with the nature of the values themselves. For that reason, unlike most methodologies that were designed to give reports based on factual findings, the methodology for collecting value information and analyz-ing value patterns is based on a process of discernment, a reflective proc-ess that raises questions rather than gives answers. There are several steps in the discernment process. 370 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 The first step is the collection of information. The information (I) must be high-quality information as well as statistical/financial informa-tion and (2) must be collected in a consistent manner. High-quality information is information that comes close to the pulse and heartbeat of all parts of the system. It is, in this case, value infor-mation. It is collected consistently by specialized instrumentation that uses an underlying algorithm based on the 125 values and the values the-ory. All of the information is processed by the use of the methodology of Convergence, Congruence, and Confirmation. ConVergence occurs when particular value patterns repeat themselves. The information is then checked for Congruency with what the person or persons in the institu-tion know to be true about themselves and for Confirmation in the lived reality. The Instrumentation is as follows. HT-Doc This abbreviation refers to the HalI-Tonna method of collecting in-formation from the formal documents of the institution. This may be the philosophy of the person or persons who founded the institution in which its purpose, mission, and charism are delineated as well as information contained in the rules, constitutions, or directives. By analyzing the val-ues in each paragraph of the documents, a values.profile can be obtained on the paragraphs, on each part, section, and chapter, and on the docu-ments as a whole. In addition, identified areas of interest throughout the documents--such as those dealing with leadership, charism, vows, and mission---can also be analyzed for their value content. These value pro-files are then reflected on and analyzed in terms of congruences and dis-crepancies and the significance they may have in light of internal con-sistency. The information derived from these profiles can be translated into practical applications. For example, by looking at the value patterns in the Act, Choice, and Vision areas, it is possible to see what the docu-ments are saying in terms of the Act area as related to policies and pro-cedures, the Choice area as related to management structures, and the Vision area as related to long-term goals. In a religious congregation the Vision values would define the expression of mission. The Hall-Tonna Inventory of Values The Hall-Tonna Inventory of Values is a 77-item forced-choice ques-tionnaire which raises questions relative to an individual's preferences and choices. The result of this questionnaire is a 15-to-25 page report which shows the individual's priority value choices on a developmental scale. A set of questions is raised for each cluster of value choices. The Refounding Through Values / 371 recipient of the report is then asked to respond to these questions by read-ing through them and identifying those that reflect issues of priority con-cern based on specified criteria. If desired, the Hall-Tonna Inventory of Values can be combined for specified groups of individuals in order to produce a composite profile. This is often helpful in looking at the com-bined values of a leadership team, local house, or general council for pur-poses of planning, education, or creating a corporate mission-and-philosophy statement within the boundaries of the value information ob-tained from the analysis of the documents. Another way to apply this in-formation is to look at the composite values of the entire institution and compare them with the envisioned values of the institution as expressed through its documents. The Hall-Ledig Interview Format (Interform) This is another method by which information can be collected on in-dividuals through a one-hour personal interview for the purpose of com-paring value information from the Hall-Tonna Inventory of Values with value information from the lived reality. Once the collection of information has been completed, the second step in the discernment process is reflecting on the information. The information which has been collected thr.ough one or more of the above instruments is then reflected on and analyzed. The value pat-terns which have emerged are compared with one another, convergences and discrepancies are noted, and discernment questions are raised from the composite information. It is, once again, through the process of Con-vergence, Congruence, and Confirmation that priority issues can be dis-cerned from the large amount of data collected. If more than one type of instrumentation has been used, the process repeats itself each time with questions being raised based on the internal relationship of the value clusters to one another, the relationship between different sets of value clusters, and the relationship between sets of value clusters gathered with each type of instrumentation. This brings us to the third step of the discernment process, which is acting on the information. The focal issues in the data that has been col-lected up to this point have now been identified. Each issue results in a series of discernment questions. As the questions are responded to, the plan for action begins to unfold based on the discrepancies in the infor-mation gathered with each type of instrumentation as well as discrepan-cies between the information from all of the instrumentation used. The information is then moved to action in the form of value-based policies, procedures and minimal-norm statements, leadership training, education 379/Review for Religious, May-June 1988 focus for initial and ongoing formation, and long-term strategic planning. Conclusions The Church today, like many of our institutions, is experiencing a significant crisis. On the positive side this can be seen as a call, a call to reevaluate the way in which it is moving into the future. History has introduced new concept

Issue 30.3 of the Review for Religious, 1971. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to RI~VIEW Fog R~LIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63~o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 3~ Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University. the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright ~) 1971 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. I'ublished for Review flw Religious at Nit+ Royal & (;uilford Ave. Baltimore, Md. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage lmid at Bahimnre. Maryland and at additional mailin~ offices. Single copies: $1.2.'3. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a yeitr, Sl 1.0(} for two yeats: olher countries: $7.00 a year. $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REvmw vog RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent gEvmw t'og RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions should be sent to REVIEW EOa RELIOIOUS; P. O. Box 1110; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Manuscripts, editorial correspondence, and books for re-view should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Buildings; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Lores, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. MAY 1971 VOLUME 30 NUMBER 3 JOHN R. SHEETS, S.J. Profile of the .Spirit: A Theology of Discernment of Spirits For various reasons the subject of what is traditionally known in Christian spirituality as discernment of spirits is coming to the fore. The literature on the subject is growing.1 Without pretending to discover something new we hope to add another point of view to the traditional way of looking at the discernment of spirits. Ordinarily the idea of discernment of spirits is con-cerned for the most part with the interior motions in the individual.2 With tbe help of prayer, purification, and spiritual direction one attempts to sift out the various movements to see what is genuinely prompted by the Holy Spirit from what is alien, in order to come to a decision in accord with the movement of the Spirit. The emphasis in discernment has been located mainly in the individual subject and with the attempt to discern the various elements at work in himself. Today, however, it seems necessary to bring out other complementary 1 See the excellent study lgnatian Discernment by John Carroll Futrell, S.J., "Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits," n. 2 (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970). In the third footnote of this work there is a select bibliography of works on discernment. -" "Discernment. involves choosing the way of the light of Christ instead of the way of the darkness of the Evil One and living out the consequences of this choice through discerning what specific decisions and actions are demanded to follow Christ here and now. The diakrisis pneumatfn---discernment of spirits--is a 'sifting through' o1: interior experiences in order to determine their origin and to discover which ones are movements toward following the way of light" (Futrell, Ignatian Discernment, p. 47). j. R. Sheets, S.J., teaches in the De-partment of Theol-ogy of Marquette University in Mil-waukee, Wisconsin 53233 VOLUME .~0, 1971 363 4. 4. 1. R. Sheets, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 364 aspects in order to do justice to a wider view of man. There has to be a broader view of discernment of spirits to keep pace with a developing Christian anthropology. We would like to view discernment as the two mutually interdependent loci of an ellipse. Traditionally only one of the loci has received attention: the subject and the internal movements of his soul. This view has to be com-plemented with the other focus of ~ttention which is concerned with what is "ahead of" the subject. This takes into consideration the term of all discern-ment which is closer ~znion while not neglecting the origins of the movement. It emphasizes discernment as a way of seeing the convergence of various elements to effect greater union. It lays stress on the "Spirit-ahead" of us, calling us, rather than concentrating only on the "Spirit-behind-us," moving us from within. Further, it brings out the fact that discernment is not simply a way for one's own spiritual advancement, but that it has a larger dimension. It is the way that history becomes weighted with the power of the Spirit, the way that the Spirit inserts Himself into the movement of history, giving it a Christic orientation. Instead of what can often be simply self-analysis it pints the emphasis on the char-acteristics o~ the Holy Spirit which form a profile against which we project the incipient movements in ourselves. Discernment, therefore, is a process of seeing incipient growth of the Spirit, distinguishing this from what is in reality incipient death. It is like trying to see the face of someone at a distance. That is only possible if one is well acquainted with the "face of the Spirit" before one at-tempts to recognize Him from a distance. For this reason in the last section of what follows we have tried to sketch the main features of His face. Discernment, therefore, has to do with the pneumatic self, the spirited self. Too often, however, it is looked upon as some kind of a supernatural psychoanalysis. We approach a spiritual phenomenon with an attitude and apparatus that are unspiritual, as if we had some kind of a water witch to detect where the genuine fountains lie. We must approach the spiritual spiritually. Discernment is related to human prudence but is not identified with it. Through discernment we try to see how the Spirit-ahead is drawing things into a Christic focus. The place where all of these converge is the epiphany of the Spirit. The tighter the convergence the closer the union, and the more does the Spirit place His imprint on the self and on history. This type of discernment is not simply a good prudential judgment. It does not arise out of the data presented, though it makes use of all the data. It is a judgment which is the result of an encounter of the Holy Spirit from above with the human spirit from below. It is larger than the data though it makes use of all the data. It involves not only good sense but an affinity with the person of the Spirit and empathy with His goals. Human prudence is also a judgment about convergence, but it arises entirely from a correct assessment of the data. There is not anything in the prudential judgment which was not in some way in the data before. Prudence draws the various elements into a judgment for action by draw-ing them into a human focus. Spiritual discernment draws them into a Christic focus. The two processes of judging are related to one another in a way analogous to the re-lationship of reason to faith. This also helps us see how the Christic focus can be achieved even though, after doing all that is possible, the human focus fails. This is the mystery of Christ's Passion and Resurrection. Failure, frustration, death o1: the hu-man point of focus can be taken up into the Christic focus and result in an even greater epiphany of the Spirit. Before we attempt to draw up some norms for the dis-cernment of spirits, it will be helpful to present very briefly some preliminary ideas concerning (1) the need for discernment, (2) the difficulty, (3) the dynamics of dis-cernment, namely, the presence of the Spirit in the Christian, (4) the moments and the modalities of dis-cernment. The Need for Discernment Discernment is necessary to answer the fundamental question: Along which path does life lie, not life simply as existence, but life in greater abundance? All discern-ment is a matter of determining the path of life from the path of death: "And you are to say to this people, 'Yahweh says tiffs: Look, I now set in front of you the way of life and the way of death' " (Jr 21:8). The difficulty comes from the fact that the path of death simulates that of life. The very first temptation presented in Scripture shows the need for discernment. The life offered by God is presented as death, and the death offered by the serpent is presented as life: "You would not die at all: for God knows that the very day you eat of the tree your eyes will be opened, and you will be like gods who know good from evil" (Gn 4:5). In the Old Testament two main types of discernment are shown to be necessary: the necessity of the prophet to discern within himself what comes from God's word from his own "dream," 3 and secondly the need for the people n"The prophet who has a dream, let him tell a dream; and he who has a word, let him speak my word faithfully, says the Lord. What has the chaff in common with the wheat? says the Lord" (Jr 23:28). There ~ire many places where the prophets distinguish what comes from them and what comes from God; /or example, Am 7:2-9,15; 8:1-2; Mi 7:!-10; Is 6:5-12; 16:9-11. 4- + + Spirit's Profile VOLUME 30, 1971 365 4. 4. 4. ]. R. Sheets, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~66 to discern the false prophet from the true.4 The experi-ence of Elijah is a paradigm for the discernment of spirits. He did not find God in any of the commotions ordinarily associated with a divine epiphany, the wind, earthquake, fire, but in the gentle breeze, which was the least likely form of God's manifestation (1 Kg 19:9-13). In the New Testament there is much more stress than in the Old on the need for discernment. Christ Himself as filled with the Holy Spirit is the discerner: "And the Spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him, the spirit of wis-dom and understanding, a spirit of counsel and power, a spirit of knowledge and of the fear of Yahweh. (The fear of Yahweh is his breath.) He does not judge by appear-ances, he gives no verdict on hearsay." (is 11:2-3). He discerns the temptation of the evil one in the desert, the activity of the devil in Judas, and the evil hearts of those who want to kill Him (see Jn 8:33-4). He discerns His own heart as always open to the Father: "I always do what is pleasing to him" (Jn 8:29). He stressed the need for dis-cernment because there will be many who claim His own authority to speak (see Mt 24:6). John stresses the fact that spiritual phenomena in the Church have to be discerned: "But do not trust any and every spirit, nay friends; test the spirits, to see whether they are from God" (I Jn 4:1). He goes on to describe the norm for discernment: "Every spirit which acknowl-edges that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is from God, and every spirit which does not thus acknowledge Jesus is not fi-om God." The Holy Spirit speaks one word wlxich is rich in its tonality: Christ. Botl~ in lais own life and in his instructions to others Paul emphasizes the need for discernment. The point can-not be developed here, but it would be instructive to study Paul's own life as one who discerns the Spirit. Surely the advice he gave to the Galatians was lived first of all in his own life: "If the Spirit is the source of our life, let the Spirit also direct our course" (Ga 5:25).~ He insists constantly on the need for discernment in the lives of the Christians. Often he uses the word dokimazo which means to test, prove: "Try to discover what the Lord wants of you, having nothing to do with the futile works o1: darkness bnt exposing them by con-trast" (Ep 5:10-1). "Bring all to the test" (I Th 5:21). 4 This is a favorite theme in the prophets Isaiah, Jeremiah, aud Ezekiel. See, for example, Is 28:7-13; 29:15-24; 56:9-12; 57:1-5; Jr 5:4,31; Ez 13; La 2:14; Ho 4:5; Dt 13:2-3. ~Paul sees his own conscience as cooperating with the Holy Spirit in forming his judgment: "I am speaking the truth as a Christian, and my own conscience, enlightened by the Holy Spirit, assures mc it is no lic: in my own heart there is great grief and unceasing sorrow" (Rm 9:1). The word he uses is "co-witnessing." "Put yourselves to the test" (2 Co 13:5). "A man must ~est himself before eating his share of the bread and drinking from the cup" (1 Co 1'1:28). There is a very special gift of discernment which belongs to the charismatic mani-festations of the Spirit: "There are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit. and another the ability to distinguish true spirits from false" (1 Co 12:4-10). This is the gift o[ discerning whether the spirits are truly spiritual, or evil. Finally he stresses the need for discernment in order to preserve the purity of the Gospel message: "The Spii-it says expressly that in after times some will desert from the faith and give their minds to subversive doctrines inspired by devils." (1 Tm 4:1). Paul sees that it is the evil spirits who are ultimately responsible for the defec-tions from the truth of the Gospel (see 2 Th 2:9-11; 2 Co 2:11). The same idea is brought out when Peter speaks of the fact that there will be false prophets among Christians just as there were among the people of Israel: "But Israel had false prophets as well as true; and you likewise will have false teachers among you" (2 P 2:1). The Scripture, therefore, in both the Old and New Testaments, shows the importance of discernment in two ways: first of all, by showing the practice of discernment in those who bring to ns the word of God (the prophets, Paul, John, Peter, and in an eminent way in Christ Him-self); and secondly by showing the need ~or discernment corresponding to three different ways in which the Spirit acts: through discerning His will for us in our personal lives, through discerning the true Gospel from the false, and through discerning a genuine charism from what is inauthentic. The Di[ficulty oI Discernment Experience shows us that it is no~ easy to discern the spirits. This is the lesson we read in Scripture, in history, and in our own personal lives. This could be developed at length. For the present, however, we would like to comment briefly on the three main sources o[ the dif-ficulty: from the term to which the Spirit is moving, from the sell, and from the circumstances. The term of all activity of the Spirit is toward greater union with Christ and through this toward union with one another. When the union which is aimed at is more personal, it is also more delicate and fragile. In love relationships the bond has more of invitation and less of physical force or compulsion, more freedom, less entrap-ment, more speaking through silence rather than through words, more awareness throngh mutnal attunement than through external signs. This is the first source of the dif- 4- 4" + Spirit's Profile VOLUME 30, 1971 367. ÷ ÷ ÷ 1. R. Sheets, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ficulty of discernment. We are trying to pick up signals that are invitations to a union that is deeper. The second difficulty comes from the self. Before one can discern, he has to be discerned. He has to allow the Word of God to discern him. He must be purified by the coal from the altar of God's holiness. Religious discern-ment is not simply a matter of finding out right answers, as one does in mathematics; nor is it simply a matter of depth analysis practiced in psychology. Discernment im-plies the docility of heart which is the same as purity of heart. What is being discerned is not simply a truth as an abstraction, but a love-truth. For this reason discern-ment involves not simply knowledge but identification with the truth, and a desire for progressive assimilation. The Holy Spirit is the ~absorbing Spirit. To discern one has to open himself to allow death to be swallowed by life. The difficulty of discernment, therefore, comes from the human heart itself: "The heart is treacherous above all things, and desperately sick--who can understand it?" (Jr 17:9). We are all aware of the proclivity of the hu-man heart to rationalize any position, to overlook what-ever might direct our eyes to the truth, to adapt the truth to ourselves, rather than to adapt ourselves to the truth. The third source of difficulty of discernment comes from the circumstances. Sometimes the issue is so com-plicated that even presupposing openness to the Spirit and purity of heart it is not easy to see where greater union lies. An obvious case is that of discerning one's vo-cation. After one has taken all of the steps necessary, with the proper consultation, he has to let his net down into the unknown with trust in the Spirit who is drawing him. In describing the music of Beethoven someone wrote that when you hear it you have the feeling that the one particular note just had to follow the other, that it was, so to speak, made in heaven. No other note would have fitted the "logic of beauty." This remark about music can easily be applied to the discernment of the note of the Spirit that simply "has to" follow. It is not easy to discern it, but it does follow a sequence that is the "logic of the Spirit." If one is attuned to the Spirit he has a sense for the "logic of the Spirit." The Dynamics of Discernment: The Presence of the Spirit in the Christian We have to recover the New Testament sense of the role of the Spirit in Cltristian life. What the soul of man is to his natural life, the Spirit is to Christian life. The Spirit is the source, guide, atmosphere, tone, pattern of Christian life. Once again we have to content ourselves in the interests of economy of space to some brief allusions to this im-portant truth without developing it at length. The gift of the Spirit sums up the whole purpose of the Messiah's coming (Jn 1:33). The Gospel of St. John stresses the fact that through Christ's passion, death, resur-rection His own body becomes the source for the Spirit. Paul emphasizes the new life of the Christian, with the new dynamics of the Holy Spirit: "The love of God has been poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit which has been given us" (Rm 5:5). The whole of Romans 8 is a description of the new spiritual order of man as contrasted with his old, unspiritual self: "So then, my brothers, there is no necessity for us to obey our unspiritnal selves or to live unspiritual lives" (Rm 8:12). The Spirit we have re-ceived has made us sons (Rm 8:15). He has revealed to our spirit the deep things of God (1 Co 2:10-1). His presence is the proof of what we cannot see, that we are sons of God (Gal 4:6-7). Through him we are renewed (Tt 3:5-6).6 It is important, therefore, to recognize the encompass-ing role of the Spirit. In discerning we are not only trying to discern the presence of the Spirit, but the very process of discerning is from-with-in-by-through the Spirit. It is Spirit as possessed and possessing attempting to discern "Spirit on the way," the movement toward greater and greater union. The Moments and Modalities of Discernment Finally, before taking up the norms for discernment, we want to say a word about the moments and modalities of discernment. By moments we mean the qualities that distinguish in importance different periods of time, either by reason of special gifts of the Spirit or special decisions to be made. Modalities of discernment refer to the various ways in which the spirits are discerned. Not every human moment is a divine moment. Sacred history teaches us that there are certain moments which are kairoi, special moments of grace, where history re-ceives a special impetus of the Spirit. This is true in one's personal life as well as the life of the Church. These are moments of special invitations by the Spirit, of special response, and of special discernment. Further there is a modality of discernment which be-longs to the ordinary day-to-day living of our lives and one which belongs to special occasions. In the ordinary more or less routine events that make up our workaday world, discernment is not conscious or reflective but takes place through the vital dialogue between our new self as OThe Jerusalem Bible in footnote, Rm 5:5, gives an extensive series of references to the doctrine of the Holy Spirit in the New Testament. ,4- 4- 4- Spirit's Profile VOLUME 30, 1971 369 graced through the Spirit and the circumstances of our lives. The habitual "spiritual set" that comes from the Spirit equips a person with an instinct for the Spirit and spiritual values. On other occasions discernment is conscious, reflective, prolonged, methodical. The rules given by St. Ignatius are among the best known help in this process of con-scious discernment. Under modalities of discernment we could also in-clude personal and group discernment. Personal discern-ment takes place in dialogue with God, the self-as-graced, and the circnmstances. Group discernment adds the social dimension. It can be imagined as a pyramid. Those in-volved have a common base, the dialogue is with God, one another, and the circumstances, searching for the point where all of these converge into the greatest union possible. The main examples of group discernment are the general councils of the Church (see the Council of Jerusalem, Acts 15:28: "It is the decision of the Holy Spirit and our decision"). Other groups with a common bond and goal can engage in discernment. This is differ-ent from group, discussion because it takes place in a whole new order with conscious and constant reference to the communion with God and with one anotl~er in the Spirit. We have spoken of theneed of discernment, especially as this is brought home to us through Scripture, the various difficulties in discernment, the dynamics of dis-cernment which come with a new existence in the Spirit, and the moments and modalities of discernment. With these thoughts as a background we would like to give some norms for the discernment of the presence of the Holy Spirit. They are not expected to be some kind of a handy kit for spiritual discernment. They are an attempt to present a profile of the Spirit so that we can recognize Him when we see Him. We cannot be expected to recog-nize, Him in our inner selves unless we have some idea of what He looks like in Himself. We have taken thirteen characteristics as a help to discernment basing them on the nature of the Spirit Himself. Some Norms for Discernment I. The first norm comes from the fact that the Spirit is ÷ the Holy Spirit. He is the consecrating Spirit, drawing ÷ men and the world into the orbit of God's own life.~ ÷ Holiness is one of those rich words which defies ade-quate description. It means that one's life is inauthentic, ~. R. Sheets, S,]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~ The theme of the consecration of Christians is a common one in the New Testament. For example, Rm 15:16, where Paul speaks of his ministry as a life of consecration; 1 Co 6:11; 2 Th 2:13; Rm 8:1-13; 1 Jn 3:7,8; 1 P 2:5. no matter how good a person is, unless it is authenticized with the special life of God, that is, unless the ways of God are incarnated in the ways of man, so that man is not simply made to the image and likeness of God through creation, but is shaped to the inner life of God by be-coming the incarnation of God's ways, that is, His holiness. The sense of consecration has the concomitant feature of bringing an awareness of the desecration in our lives, a sense of sin: "He will confute the world, and show where wrong and right and judgment lie" (Jn 16:8). For this reason, the Holy Spirit will~ never be the in-spirit, the spirit of the times. Though He is the comforting Spirit, he will never be the comfort~ible Spirit. He has to il-lumine darkness, and men do not want their deeds il-lumined. Augustine's remark i~s perennially true: "They love the truth when it enlight,ens; they hate it when it reproves; they love it when it reveals its own self, and they hate it when it reveals themselves." The first rule for discernment, then, is this: Does it bring a greater sense of consecration, an integration of life through holiness, and at tl~e same time the need for purification, the sense of our distance from God? 2. The second norm is dra~n from the fact that the Holy Spirit is Spirit. Everything produces its own likeness as far as possible. The Holy Spirit by His very nature spiritualizes. It is difficult to appreciate what spirit and spiritualiza-tion mean not only because of the depth-nature of spirit, but also because of the false im'pression most people have of spirit. For many spirit means non-human, or less than human, unreal, foreign to the world of man. ~In the Scrip-ture, however, spirit connotes p',ower that is creative, over-powering, sustaining, surprisirfg, inspiring, gentle in its force, but forceful in gentleness' (see Elijah, 1 Kg 19). The spirit puts life into the dry bones of humanity: "I shall put my spirit in you and you shall live" (Ez 37:1). How does an act that is me~'ely human become spiri-tual? It becomes enveloped with, impregnated with a new life. St. Paul describes in detail the spiritual life of the Christian (Rm 8:lff): "The unspiritual are interested only in what is unspiritual, but the spiritual are inter-ested in spiritual things. It is death to limit oneself to what is unspiritual; life and peace can only come with concern for the spiritual" (Rm 8:5,6).s This provides us with the second norm for discerning the presence of the Spirit: is an act more spiritual, that is, does it bear the imprint of the Spirit? This is the same Sin the footnote to Rm 1:9 the Jerusalem Bible presents an extensive list of references to the word "Spirit" in the New Testament both as it pertains to man's spirit and to God's Spirit. + + ÷ Spirit's Profile VOLUME 30, 371 4, 4, 4, I. R. Sheets, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS paradoxically enough as asking: Is the act more human, because it is the nature of Spirit through His creative power to make things more what they should be by draw-lng them into a new source of authenticity. A spiritual act bears the mark of the new creation. On the contrary, an act that is unspiritual is one that bears the marks of death, inversion, self-centeredness. Admittedly it is diffi-cult to apply this norm in some sort of an empirical fashion. It is a norm which only a spiritual person can apply because he alone can pick up the signals of spiri-tuality. 3. The third norm comes from the fact that the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of Truth: "If you love me you will keep my commandments, and I shall ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate to be with you forever, the Spirit of Truth, whom the world can never receive since it neither sees nor knows him" (Jn 14:15-17). It is not easy to express all of the nuances in the Scrip-tural word "trnth." We often equate it with a mental category. In Scripture, however, it describes a way of being, or more explicitly, a way of living. It is being-faithful or living faithfully. In God's providence there are four notes that make np the one chord of fidelity: first of all, God's faithfulness to Himself or to His promise, which incarnates itself in Christ who is the manifestation of the Father's fidelity, whose fidelity in turn is poured out among men through the Spirit, who is the Spirit of Fidelity, who in turn creates the Church, which is de-scribed as the "pillar and foundation of the truth" (1 Tm 3:15). Fidelity is a way of being where one's being and acting are shaped by a relationship to a person. The real, the unsubjective, what is there, is allowed to shape one's choices. Fidelity means that the past-self is not a matter of memory but is the present-self. It is the way past identity shapes present and future identity. In philosophy being is the highest expression of what existence means. In Christianity fidelity is the highest expression of the real. In the discernment of spirits it is important to look for the note of fidelity, the degree to which we allow the word of God and His will to shape each moment of our lives, the extent to which we allow the Church as the pillar and foundation of fidelity to mediate to us God's word and will. As a negative norm for discernment any act is to be rejected which makes us less faithful, which loses the sense of the absolute, reducing everything to what is relative, seeing truth in terms only of opinions like conservative, liberal and so forth, embodying an at-titnde which sees truth only from a subjective point of view--all of these are signs that point out the spirit of infidelity, "in whom there is not truth" (Jn 8:44). The Spirit of Fidelity leaves his own stamp of fidelity. 4. In the fourth place, the Spirit of Christ is the eschatological Spirit. He is the Spirit of the Christ-who-has- come and the Christ-who-is-to-come. He is the per-sonal tension of that which is already done in Christ and that which is yet to be done in His members. His whole purpose is to pour forth the gifts that are in Christ: "Ascending on high he gave gifts to men" (Ep 4:8). The Spirit as eschatological gift is the Spirit of Per-spective. He gives us the vision of the relationship be-tween the past event in Christ, our present living out of this event, and' the future fulfillment. He gives, then, a sense of the direction of time and its relationship to eternity, of this world to the next, a sense of what is simply means and what is goal. This serves as a norm for discernment of spirits. Is there a sense of value of eternal life over temporal life, of what is permanent over the transient, of the presence of Christ as .the absolute over the relative, of awareness of the overplus of meaning over non-meaning, of direction over drift in history? Negatively, is there a loss of perspective? Are means made into ends? Is eternal life seen as the climax of love or as an abstraction? It must be confessed that eternal life does not play too large a part in our contemporary mentality. We are like people .who keep throwing life jackets to pull those who are drowning into a sinking ship. 5. In the fifth place, the Spirit of Christ is the Spirit who creates the Christian community. The various terms used for the Church in the New Testament bring out the aspect of community: one body with many members, family, people of God, temple, vineyard, city, spouse. The Holy Spirit creates community by creating unity: "Do all you can to preserve the unity of the Spirit by the peace that binds you together. There is one Body, one Spirit, just as you were called into one and the same hope when you were called" (Ep 4:3). The unity of the Church is not based on common interests, bonds of blood, or even a common goal. The bond is the Spirit who draws the members together through their faith, which is the this-side expressio.n of the inner union of the Spirit with the Father and the Son. This serves as a help to discern the spirits. Does an action tighten the bonds of unity in the community? Negatively, does it bring about division and fragmenta-tion? 6. In the sixth place, the Spirit of Christ is the Spirit of the Word made flesh. He is the sacramental Spirit, the incarnating Spirit, the "material" Spirit. Proceeding from 4- Spirit's Profile VOLUME 30, 373 + + J. R. Shee~s~ $4. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 374 the flesh of Christ He draws all flesh into the flesh of Christ: "On the last day and greatest day of the festival, Jesus stood there and cried out: 'If any man is thirsty, let him come to me. Let the man come and drink who believes in me.' As Scripture says: 'From his breast shall flow fountains of living water.' He was speaking of the Spirit which those who believed in him were to receive; for there was no Spirit as yet because Jesus had not yet been glorified" (Jn 7:37-9). Here we see the importance not only of the sacraments formally so called, which in reality are points of Christic concentration, vortices drawing men into°Christ, bnt the drawing presence of the Spirit through all that is material --other people, circumstances, the sacramentals of the Church. In this connection we cannot emphasize enough the importance of sign and symbol as vehicles of the Spirit. The Spirit is a hungry, thirsty Spirit. He draws men through every pore of matter into the flesh of Christ. As a norm, then, to discern the presence of the Holy Spirit we should see to what extent His sacramentalizing presence is brought OUt. Negatively, the Spirit is absent where there is a tendency towards desacramentalizing, a false depreciation of matter, or a false internalization that devalues the drawing power of sign and symbol. 7. The Spirit of Christ is the Family Spirit. The same Spirit of Christ animates Christians of all centuries, cre-ating a kindred Spirit. He creates a basic identity that transcends differences of culture, philosophy, manners, and customs. The Christian is at home with the prophets of the Old Testament, the Apostles of the New, the fathers of East and ¼Zest, and so on through history. As a norm for discernment of spirits it is helpful to ask to what extent some mode of action bears the marks of the kindred Spirit. 8. The Holy Spirit is the charismatic Spiri[. There are two ways in which He distributes His gifts: to the person for the social, and to the social for the person. He gives His gifts to individuals to build up the Church for the person. He gives His gifts to individuals to build up the Church, and gifts to the Church to sanctify persons. He is the author of both types of charism: institutionalized charism, which is the Church, with the special role of the pope and the college of bishops; and the personal charism, given to an individual for the whole Body. It is a sign of the presence of the Spirit where there is due respect for both modes of the Spirit's charismatic presence. Negatively, any spirit which puts these gifts in opposition is not the Holy Spirit. 9. The Spirit of Christ is the Spirit who opens ns to the will of the Father: "He will not speak on his own authority, but will tell only what he hears" (Jn 16:14). The Spirit is "all ears" for the will of the Father. He tries to open our ears to hear His voice. Paul makes this one of his main concerns, that the Christian seek the will of God (Ep 5:17; Col 1:9; 4:12; Ph !:9; 2:13). This acts as a norm of discernment: the extent to which we are concerned with the discovery and the living out of God's will. 10. The Spirit of Christ is the Liberating Spirit: "Now the Lord of whom this passage speaks is the Spirit; and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty" (2 Co 3:17; see Rm 8:1-13). Much has been written about freedom. Unfortunately we have to limit ourselves to a few observa-tions. Freedom is that mysterious power at the heart of a person by which one can open oneself to other selves. It is a power of excentration, bv which the self is given, and other selves are received. It is the way in which life be-comes a sharing of persons, not simply a sharing of things. Christian freedom is a share in Christ's own free-dora through His Spirit, a power to open oneself to the Self of the Father and the Son, and to love others as Christ Himself has loved. It is a sign of the Spirit's presence where there is genuine growth in freedom, which manifests itself in a greater sense of responsibility to the Father and to others. 11. The spirit is the Spirit o[ Christ. His whole work is to reproduce the image of Christ (2 Co 3:17if). If some-thing leads to a greater awareness of Christ, then it comes from the Spirit of Christ. 12. The Spirit of Christ is the Organic Spirit. He is the Spirit who creates nnity through variety. He is the Spirit who gives not only His gifts, but shares His own power to give: "There are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit" (1 Co 12:4). There are two ways to destroy an organic unity, either through dismemberment, or by reduction of differences to make one homogeneous mass. The true Spirit is present where there is respect for the distinctiveness ot~ His gifts and their complementarity. The evil spirit destroys either by dividing or by reducing everything to an nndiffer-entiated mass. 13. Finally, the Holy Spirit is present where he pro-duces the symphony of His life in dae Christian: "What the Spirit brings is very different: love, joy, peace, pa-tience, kindness, goodness, trustfulness, gentleness, and selLcontrol" (Gal 5:22). This is another way of saying that He creates the image of Christ. The Spirit is present to the extent that a spiritual harmony is found in one's life. + ÷ ÷ Spirit's Protile VOLUME 30, 1971 375 Conclusion We have perhaps attempted to cover too much in such limited space. Each one of the topics touched on could be expanded indefinitely. We have tried to stress the follow-ing points. We need to see the Spirit not only as working in us and behind our actions, but as the Spirit ahead of us, drawing our lives into a Christic convergence. We have to discern the movements of the Spirit not only from the be-ginnings but from the term. Besides seeing discernment as a means for greater personal union, we have to see it as the way in which history becomes freighted with the Spirit. We stressed the role of the Spirit Himseff in our process of discernment, and familiarity with His personal characteristics in order that we might more readily recog-nize His operations. In this way we can be "transfigured into his likeness, from splendor to splendor. Such is the influence of the Lord who is Spirit" (2 Co 3:18). 4. 4. I. R. Sheets, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS EDWARD J. FARRELL Fraternity and Review of Life For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them (Mt 18:20). ! am longing to see you: I want to bring you some spiritual strength, and that will mean that I shall be strengthened by you, each of us helped by the other's faith (Rm 1 : 11). Your mind must be renewed by a spiritual revolution . You must speak the truth to one another, since we are all parts of one another . let your words be for the improvement of others as occasion offers, and do good to your listeners (Eph 4: 23-9). Let the message of Christ, in all its richness, find a home with you. Teach each other, and advise each other in all wisdom (Col 3: 16). Some years ago, Romano Guardini expressed his con-viction that a basic cause for diminishing faith is our inability or unwillingness to share our faith experiences with one another. Without this sharing, he believed in-dividual faith is weakened. Fifty years later, in the midst of our present theological traumas, a spiritual evolution is happening in the emergence of small-group faith com-munities which I describe as fraternities. What Is a Fraternity? A fraternity is as new and as ancient as this morning's liturgy. It is the fundamental Christian experience. The first fraternity was that begun by Christ in his calling together the Twelve. The fellowship and brotherhood (koinonia) of the early Christian communities were a fraternity experience. Today's fraternity continnes that pattern. A group comes together tO pray, to listen to the word, to share, to be responsible for one another and to one another. Its members celebrate both the present mys-tery of their life in Christ and Christ's life in and through them in the world. In a deep sense, the fraternity lives out the Eucharist in the actuality of the ordinary of life. Openness to Christ in the presence of one another de-velops a givenness to each other. This experience embodies -I- '4- Edward J. Farrell is a s~aff member of Sacred Heart Semi-nary; 2701 Chicago Boulevard; Detroit, Michigan 48206. VOLUME 30, 377 ÷ E. 1. Farrell REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 378 the true meaning of co-responsibility, and this co-respon-sibility nourishes the grace and charism given to each for the service of all. Through a fraternity one grows in the capacity to see more and more in the light of faith and to draw and call each other to a more complete response to the Father. Fraternity is, simply stated, the actualizing and living out our love for one another through the recognized presence of Jesus in our midst. Why Fraternity? We are caught in a time of great changes in which familiar ctdtural patterns, customs, structures, and guide-lines have been swept away. "Crisis" is on everyone's tongue--crisis in faith, crisis in education, crisis in cities, crisis in marriage. "Crisis" is a good Greek word meaning and signifying judgment, discernment, decision. In that sense, life is a crisis! Because we are free, the human condition will always be in crisis. We are always in proc-ess of growth and development and its dialectic, canght in "overchoice" and "alternate eternities." We are polarized between anonymity and community; alienation and over- .involvement; loneliness and people-suffocation. In the paradox of our life today we need commnnity, perhaps more intense community than ever. We need privacy, a solitude richer than we have ever experienced. Yet too much community stifles and depersonalizes; too much solitude begets a barren and sterile loneliness and alienation. Change generates new perceptions and fresh needs emerge. There are new levels of self-awareness, per-sonal consciousness, the quest for inner freedom, for self-determination, resistance to authority, structnres, systems. Personal relationships have displaced rules. The people yon choose to be with become themselves the structure. In times of transition and instability human institu-tions contract to basic and primary units. There is too great a gap between the large community and close friend-ship and it is into this vacuum that fraternity has moved. It neither displaces or is a substitute for either because both are necessary. Rather it is a response to a new need, a new life situation not previously known. Value of Fraternity A fraternity offers an adult experience of a family. When we were young we could not wait to move out from onr families, and then we spend the rest of our lives seeking and developing a family of friends. This family of friends, a wall of friends, is a need, a human universal which no one ever outgrows. This is not only a human need but a personal right guaranteed by the essence of the Christian experience. Fraternity is built upon the truth that we need an inner commnnity of friends. This faith commtmity is essentially for balance, for matttrity, for continuing growth. In this family of friends one can be wholly himself, loved not io mt~ch, of cottrse, for what he does, but simply that he is. Fraternity is built npon the truth that Christ willed men to be saved by men. We need one another; In fra-ternity we make onr life in Christ visible before our brothers, asking them to hold ns faithful to our call and to our grace. Perhaps the great weakness in ot~r faith life is that it remains too invisible, known only to God in that vertical I-Thou relationship. Fraternity enables that vertical relationship to touch the horizontal life where Christ must be made visible. In nay own experience, the first effect of fraternity is to help me in fidelity. "How often have I seen myself in a mirror and walked away, forgetting what manner of man I am." The common sin of good religious is non-response to grace. It is not a matter of being bad priests or sisters, but it is plateat~ing year after year in a slowly contract-ing self-gravitational orbit. The grace of fraternity is to enable one to break out of that orbit and to be given that thrust which is impossible to attain alone. Size o[ Fraternity The size of a fraternity is conditioned by the psycho-logical limits of relationship. No one can relate deeply to twenty people at the same time. The group range is generally from eight to twelve persons. There may be several fraternities in the same honse. There is no com-pnlsion to belong. Fraternity does not mean a clique. It stands rather for inclt~siveness not for exchlsion. There can be both diversity and spirit of t, nity. Everyone will benefit; those not in a fraternity will belong by affinity. Growth in Fraternity Week after week one becomes aware of the effort an-other is making and the prayer he is living. Each one sees another in his strnggle and becomes aware that when he fails he is in some way allowing the others to fail. No one's faith can be lived in isolation. What one does af-fects all. Fraternity brings home with unassailable impact that we are brothers and are entrusted with ultimate responsibility for each other. I deeply know that as I go, so they go; as they go, so go I. Growth in ,'i faith com-munity is growing together in Christ through one an-other. Review o~ Life The dynamic of a fraternity is called a review of life. Every fraternity meeting is like the meeting on the road to Emmaus. Like the disciples we are "deep in conversa-÷ 4. 4. Fraternity VOLUME .30, 1971 379 4. 4. 4. E. .J. Farrell REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 380 tion about everything that has happened. And while they were absorbed in their serious talk and discussion, Jesus himself approached and walked along with them." Like the disciples, "the Scriptures are made plain to us" and "all that has happened" takes its right place in God's plan. "Our eyes are opened and we recognize Jesus walk-ing beside us, when he broke bread." The review of life rests on one fundamental fact: God acts through the events or at least through certain events and experiences of our life to become present to us, to manifest His love and bring us to renew and deepen our union with Him. The review of life helps us to discover the presence of Jesus and His expectations of us in all the aspects of our life. It develops our fraternal openness and brings us to a more total giving of ourselves to God. Each member becomes the responsibility of the others. It forms in us the habit of seeing everything in the light of faith and draws us to a fuller response to the will of our Father. The review of life is the reading of our weekly experi-ences in the light of the word of God. The quality of our review of life will be in real dependence on the qual-ity of our life of prayer and our familiarity with the word of God. The review of life is not an examination of conscience. It is essentially an effort to look together at our life and to what Jesns is calling us. We are tanght by our daily events and experiences if we "review" them with faith. This is why the review of life must start from precise facts drawn from our actual (lay and week. The review of life must not be thought of as just an external review of some of our duties. It must be past the state of simple exchange of ideas and must be situated at it deeper level. We must be convinced that we need the help of onr fraternity with each other even in the matter of our interior fidelity to Jesus. We cannot go alone to Him. The review of life is a searching together to discover in the light of the word of God the presence of Jesus in the facts and experiences of our daily life. The review of life is a new spiritual exercise, a way of prayer, a means of reading Scriptnre. It calls for discern-ing of spirits, it demands a re-vision of life. It is not so much an examination of conscience as it is a daily enter-ing into a fuller consciousness of Christ's presence in our life through His Word in Scripture and His Word re-fracted in the people and experiences of each day. The fraternity review of life is preceded by an hour of prayer during which each member reviews his own week or month in order to recognize how Christ has acted in him and how he has responded. Each prays for discern- ment to speak and to listen to Christ in the presence of one another. Usually it is difficult to recognize a fact of one's life, accustomed as we are to speak of ideas and thoughts and opinions. We are used to speaking in terms of "they," and "we," and "you." In contrast, the review of life is in the first person singular, forcing one to confront the facts and habits of one's daily life. One can always be more objective about others than about oneself. The review of life comes no more easily than deep self-knowledge. It is a slow and stumbling process with no step-by-step guide. In every review of life, every fra-ternity is the uniqueness of its members. Life growth and personal growth are rarely obvious. In" Patd's Epistles we can discover how often they become a review of life. Dynamics of the Review As a general rule, a review of life begins with each one expressing a particular fact of one's week: "I feel I have been neglecting personal prayer." "I'm avoiding this per-son." "I have a new understanding of forgiveness through this happening this week." Or one might ask a question: "What made this week for yon? . What do you feel you are to share? . What of your week brought a new light on"the Gospel or what demands were made on you?" "What decisions are you facing? . How are yon following throngla on your commitments?" In these ways, we come to each other with our needs, sharing our bread and ask-ing for bread. We gradually come to ask one another: "Teach me your prayer, your fidelity, your poverty, your love." "Share with me your Jesus." In some meetings there might not beany clear experience or grace to share at any one particular review of life. One might not be ready to express what is developing or happening. No one is to feel any pressure to share. No one responds to what another has said except at the invitation of that person. In essence, then, a review of life is primarily a prayer experience, an experience of Jesus and of oneself before Him and in Him. As we have said, no fraternity with one another is possible unless it is rooted in fraternity with Jesus. 0nly through His presence can we enter into deeper presence of one another. In the review, we ask Jesus to help us to discern His presence in ns, to reveal what He is calling us to and how to share Him with the fraternity. New levels of faith and charity emerge. A new sense of His presence is recognized in the way others ex-press what it is for them to be with Jesus. One learns to discern what the Word is saying in this situation and to be sensitive to the Word. Since fraternity means rever-ence, a deep reverence for the mystery and secret that an-÷ ÷ ÷ Fraternity VOLUME 30, 1971 381 + .I. + E. J. Farreli REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 389 other person is and who it is that is at work in each; psy-chological or moralistic probing has no place.in the re-view of life. Each person is respected for the inner rhythm of this life in the Spirit. No one may decide: "This is the hour. Now is the moment of grace," or "I have the an-swer to your problena." Although we are called to be min-isters of grace to each other, it cannot come precipitonsly, brashly, or insensitively, it is a beautifnl experience to watch the unfolding of the unknown grace in each other as we search together to li~,e our life according to the gospel. It is important to "call" one another, to hear an-other's expectation of me and for them to hear my ex-pectation of them, their need of nle and mine of them. In many ways the fraternity review of life is a living out, an actualization of the sacramental reality of the Eucharist and penance. The effects of the Eucharist is to bond us to one another to enable us to hear Jesus deep within us always uttering His transforming words over each person in every situation of our life: "This is nay body; This is my blood." The presence of Jesus in ns makes us "an altogether new creature" (Gal 6:16). He enables us in a new way to relate to others. His presence enables us to experience a new presence in others ". that each part may be equally concerned for all the others. If one part is hurt, all parts are hurt with it. If one part is given special honor, all parts enjoy it. Now you together are Christ's body; but each of you is a different part of it" (1 Cor 12:26-7). "If we live by the truth and in love, we shall grow in all ways into Christ, who is the head by whom the whole body is fitted and joined together, every joint adding its own strength, for each separate part to work accord-ing to its function. So the body grows until it has built itself up, in love" (Eph 4: 15-6). Eucharist, the fraternity with Jesus, creates our capac-ity for fraternity with one another. He alone can free us from our inability to love as He loves ns. Fraternity is the environment for penance, the sacrament o~ reconcil-iation, to reach a new fullness. For so long a time Encha-fist and penance have been contracted to the private individual sphere of I and Thou. So little of these sacra-ments is corporately and communally experienced. These sacraments give us power but rarely do we find an en-vironment to actualize His grace in us for others. Many have left religious life and the priesthood not so much because they have been hurt by the community hut be-cause they have not been healed. The hungry continue to be sent away empty. Fraternity means healing, it is for giving--forgiving. We discover that we have a power in Christ to forgive sin, the offense against us. It is a real power, just as we have the power to bless, because of the reality of Christ's presence in us. We have real power even though it is not the sacerdotal power of absolution, a forgiveness through the power of understanding and compassion. We are peacemakers and joybringers because we express visibly Christ's p(rson and Christ's forgiveness in love. Fraternity and review of life is a risk. It is as dangerous as prayer--one never knows where He will lead. Fra-ternity and review of life are contemporary ways of re-sponding to His Word: "By tliis love you have for one another, everyone will know that you are my disciples" (Jo 13:15). His words of judgment cannot but haunt us: "1 know all about you: how you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were one or the other, but since you are neither, but only lukewarm, I will spit you out of my mouth . I am the one who reproves and disciplines all those he loves: so repent in real earnest. Look, I am standing at the door, knocking. If one of you hears me calling and opens the door, I will come in to share his meal side by side with him . If anyone has ears to hear, let him listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches!" (Rev 3:15-22). Fraternity VOLUME 30, 197! 383 PAUL M. BOYLE, C.P. Small Community Experiences ÷ ÷ Paul Boyle, C.P., president of the Conference of Ma-jor Superiors of Men, lives at 5700 North Harlem Ave-nue; Chicago, Illi-nois 60631. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 384 As part of the renewal process initiated by the recent Vatican Council many religious institutes are trying new styles of communal life. It is difficult to characterize these new approaches to life in community. They have received a variety of names in various institutes, such as Experi-mental Communities, Small Community Living, Apart-ment- Style Living, Yet none of these denominations des-ignates those elements which are common to the new approaches. The word "small" comes closest, perhaps, but it is a very relative term. Whatever their common characteristics, it is clear that these new approaches to community living are wide-spread. The Conference of Major Superiors of Religious Men (CMSM) thought it would be well to ~valuate some of these endeavors. A series of six workshops was arranged in different parts of the country. About 30 major superi-ors were invited to each workshop, half men and half women, plus ten resource persons. Generally between 30 and 35 persons participated in each workshop. Many of the major superiors invited had personally participated in these small community experiences. Prior to each workshop the participants received papers describing, very briefly, one new approach to community living in each of the religious institutes represented. Some of these endeavors had already ended in failure. Others were floundering. Some were flourishing. Originally the workshops were entitled "Experiments in Small Community Living." However, the word "exper-iment" was quickly dropped both because it was mislead-ing and because it was apparent that small communities were here to stay. They were no longer considered an experiment, even though the particular mode or style in which this specific small group expressed itself was open to revision. The small size of communities was not precisely the point of consideration either. The participants were stud- ying a significantly new style of community life in small groups. Any common characteristics or integral elements constitutive of this new style could best be learned from the observable data at band. Eventnally the workshop members drew the conclusion that much more than a new style of life was under consideration. It was a differ-ent Christian culture, a different spirituality. The two styles of life in religious communities were expressive of two divergent views of the Christian life. The workshops made no effort to propose specnlative solutions. The approach was an entirely existential one. Current projects on new styles of small community living were studied and discnssed. Information was exchanged and experiences were studied and analyzed. Certain ten-tative conclusions seemed to emerge. Through the days of the workshop the participants attempted to discover common elements in these various efforts. When experiments failed, were there any recur-ring components which contribnted to this lack of suc-cess? Could we discover any factors which angnred well for the success of an endeavor? Where these projects have perdured, have they made any significant contribution to religious life? The workshops were, in other words, attempting to do three things: 1. Evaluate the sti'engths and weaknesses of current programs in small community living. 2. Discover any features to foster in attempting future projects. 3. Discover any features to avoid in initiating further such efforts. As a resnlt of this sharing it was felt there may be some nseful information instructive for the planning phases in preparation for such projects. Obviously an evalnation demands some basis of com-parison. Generally speaking these assumptions were not clearly articulated although they can be gleaned from the discussions. One assumption was clearly stated. Groups which have separated from their religious institute were considere'd failures in respect to their forming a vital part of the parent organization. Hence there was no effort in the sessions to study subseqnent developments within such groups. Indeed it seems that few of them survived their separation from the parent religions organization. It might be well to indicate, briefly, the other norms nsed for evaluation. As mentioned, these were not explic-itly enumerated bnt they were the recurring points under consideration. + 4- 4- Small Communities 1. Personal maturity. Does this style of life promote growth in VOLUME 30, 1971 maturity? 2. Interpersonal relationships. Are the personal relationships 385 "4- "4- ,4. Paul Boyle REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 386 supportive in these communities? Are there clear manifesta-tions of love, trust, and respect? 3. Evangelical counsels. Does this project provide a believable manner of living out one's commitment ;to the evangelical cou nsels? 4. Prayer. Does the individual and communal witness to a life of prayer deepen in communities free to determine their own norms and forms for prayer? 5. Fiscal responsibility. Do such practices as community plan-ning of communal budgets and personal management of funds contribute to fiscal responsibility? 6. Apostolate. Is apostolic ;~ctivity fostered by these renewal efforts? 7. Corporate commitment. Do the individuals and groups find their interest in the larger parent organization is strength-ened or, perhaps, attenuated? Possibly because a nmnber of the superiors ltad been through some very painful experiences, the sessions began by considering the negative aspects of these new styles of life. Then the group brainstormed the positive values of these small groups. Positive and negative elements were then gathered into areas of similarity and discussed at length. Negative Aspects The participants were painfully aware of a host of problems connected with these new approaches to com- ~non life. A number of the areas, however, were quickly seen to be tensions common to other forms of community life also. These problems bad simply been highlighted by the experiment. After some consideration other problems were recognized as not so much connected with this man-ner of life as with the method by which Stlcb projects were initiated or with the people who participated in them. Other difficulties, however, were intimately con-nected with the style of life itself. GOALS AND EVALUATION An often repeated mistake was lack of clear planning. The goals of the project were not enunciated explicitly. Neither the participan(s nor the institute bad anything clear against which to evalnate the program. The mem-bers of the group bad no framework within wtiicb to locate themselves. Often the experimenters were ktealists or visionaries wbo eschewed the mundane realities of goals and organization. A recent study~ of 50 commnnes (30 from the 19th century and 20 contemporary ones) shows some remarka-ble similarities between those of the past and the present. The stndy cites one of the constants by quoting a mem-ber of one current failure: We weren't ready to define who we were; we certainly Psychology Today, July 1970, p. 78. weren't prepared to define who we weren't--it was still just a matter of intuition. We had come together for various rea-sons- not overtly for a common idea or ideal . The differ-ent people managed to work together side by side for awhile, but there really was no shared vision. INITIATED FROM ABOVE Small groups which were regarded as a project of the total religious community fared quite well. The more closely the members of the small group were united with the other religious in the congregation, the better was their chance of success. Sm~tll groups which were alien-ated from the larger parent group had a poor survival rate. Indeed this factor of alienation was probably tlie most constant indicator of failure. Projects which were initiated by decree of the chapter or decision of the administration seem to have been re-garded as a project of the full community. Rarely was there alienation from the parent group. Conversely where these projects were initiated as a result of pressures from those who wished to begin such a small group, almost every one of them dissolved within two years. There were many explanations offered for this fact. Probably the real-ity is as diverse as the persons involved. But the fact remains and is something to be seriously considered. SIZE OF GROUP All recognized that the size of the group was an impor-tant ingredient for the success of a ventnre. Yet experi-ence compelled the members to conclude that there were no absolutes in this matter. For a wide variety of reasons groups consisting of less than five had little success. With some exceptions communities smaller than five disbanded after one or two years. Most members of the workshop thought that groups with more than 10 or 11 merabers Wotlld be too large to attain the goals of this new s~,le of community life. However, they recognized that tl,ey were not speaking from extensive experience. The vast major-ity of the successful small groups consisted of from five to nine religious. There were a few institutes with new styles of community life where the membership was a bit larger than this. Yet the consensus seemed to be that, generally speaking, the best chance for success is in a group from five to nine persons. MEMBERSHIP Perhaps one of the biggest surprises came when the qualities of the membership in these small groups was considered. Were the members of successful groups in similar age brackets, of similar tastes and interests? Or did the membership span the spectrum of age and experi-ence? ÷ ÷ ÷ Small Communities VOLUME 30, 1971 387 Few, indeed, were the homogeneous groupings which survived. Many of the participants in the workshops reg-istered their surprise at this fact. Some interesting specu-lation developed in an effort to explore the reasons, but it is sufficient here to record the phenomenon. On the other hand it would not be correct to say that the small gronps were so heterogeneous that they in-cluded each element in the institute. One essential quality for inelnbership was a willingness to dialog. Granting that and the minilnal maturity re-ferred to above, the presence of diverse age groups and attitudes seems to be a very healthy ingredient. HORARIUM Another frequently mentioned problem was schedul-ing. Small groups fonnd it difficult to get together for community prayers, discussions, and recreation. It was believed that the problem was the same in larger group-ings but its harmful effect was not felt as keenly. Yet, after a period of time, the small groups were able to make suitable adjustments in their schedules. Recogniz-ing the need and value of being together at certain times, they accepted the implied limitations imposed upon their choice of other benefits and valnes. Positive Values The workshops devoted the major portion of their time to the positive values evidenced by this new style of community life. Here the participants discovered some-thing which led them to conclude that this style of life would be normative for apostolic communities of the fu-ture. ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul Boyle REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~88 INTERPERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS This was the most common goal desired by those enter-ing these projects. They wanted to establish an atmos-phere which would foste]- close personal relationships. It was their belief that thi~, in turn, would give a basis for an enriched relationship with Christ. Many religious began these small community projects with unreal expectations. They believed that they could establish a primary relationship with each member of the community. Moreover, it seems they considered these close interpersonal communities a panacea for all the problems of life. One of the significant factors in the faihlre of early efforts was that the participants were frequently imma-ture. Perhaps they were idealists who needed the support of people able to cope with the daily realities of life. Some found the increased demand for personal responsi-bility in small communities too much for them. They longed for the benefits of community but were unable to pay the price demanded. Yet the majority of the religious seem to have found that their experience in the new groupings deeply enriched their lives. They have formed close, personal friendships. It was interesting to note that an increase of personal responsibility was experienced in these new styles of life. Not every religious will thrive in such small ~roups. Some people, for instance, find such satisfaction in their work that they do not need th~ support of interpersonal relations at home. Religious life, for them, is more func-tional than personal. They are religious to perform an apostolic work and the institute exists to facilitate this work. In and through the structures of the institute, moreover, they find that incentive to sanctity which helps them perform their work in a way befitting a consecrated Christian. A growing number of religious, however, need or desire a different kind of relationship in community. An active and persistent striving to realize the opportunities for full development of each person in the small group must be one of the expectations of persons participating in these programs. A certain acceptable level of matnrity is a pre-requisite. In and through these small communities many reli-gious have come to a deeper self-awareness. This has ena-bled them to develop their potential and reach a satisfy-ing level of maturity. Small group living, for reasonably mature people, can clearly contribute to personal growth. Obviously there are tensions and problems experienced in the small communities. One of the most important was the lack of privacy. There was a great need for personal privacy, for places or periods o[ quiet so that a person could be by bi~nself. Too much "togetherness" was harm-rid. Physical and psychic privacy were prerequisites for successful interpersonal community. PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY One of the common characteristics of these groups was their mutual sharing of community responsibilities. Al-though the name was rarely used, in a number of in-stances there was a superior. Yet the role of the superigr was seen as significantly different from that of the tradi-tional decision-maker. The majority of these small groups, however, were without any designated superior. Nor did it seem correct to assert that one person usually emerged as the de facto leader in the group. Initially the groups generally began by discnssing all decisions to be made. After a while, however, routine decisions were del-egated to varions persons with a periodic review by the group of the manner in which these may have affected ÷ -I- -I-Small Communities VOLUME 30, 1971 389 the community. Harmoni6us community living required a clear delineation of rights and responsibilities spelled out tbrougll months of dialog. There were regular sessions to evaluate their progress in attaining the goals, to consider the policies determined by the group as well as the administrative decision by way of implementation. Conflicts and tensions must be brought into the open in a continuing effort to resolve them. + + + Paul Boyle REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 390 PRAYER A consideration of the various endeavors in the differ-ent institutes reveals a curious pattern in regard to prayer. When these new connnunities first started communal prayer fell off notably. In many instances the only com-munity act of worship was an occasional Eucharistic cele-bration together. At the same time the. religious were gradually experiencing a deeper faith orientation to their life. Through their community discussions they were coming to an awareness of tile place of a living faith in their lives. In a new way they were becoming conscious of the workings of the Holy Spirit. They were experiencing tile faith as a dynamic force in their lives. Then, after many months, something marvelous began to develop. Communities began searching for new forms of communal prayer. Frequent dialog prayer, sharing re-flections on the Scriptures, personal petitions addressed to God, hymns and psalnas of praise, all of these started evolving around the flow of daily life. This is something still very such in tile developmental stage in most com-munities, but it is one of the more exciting prospects. A deep desire for prayer is vibrant in these small communi-ties. Eager and earnest efforts are beingmade to achieve a life of prayer which fits comfortably into the patterns of life of the individual conmaunities. An interesting contrast kept recurring between the quality of these prayer experiences and the relative infre-quency and comparative brevity of these communal pray-ers. The Eucharist is often celebrated with other sectors of the larger community, the parish or the religious institute or work groups. But regular and informal celebrations in tile local community, frequently quite protracted through additional readings and shared reflections, are highlights in their prayer life and cherished experiences. APOSTOLATE Taking the term "apostolate" as the kind of service performed by the religious, s.nall group living does not seem to have any particnlar bearing on the apostolate. Considering the apostolate in a broader sense, however, as meaning the mission of religious to bear witness to the world, these new approaches in small group living have ,;ome significant developments. For one thing, unlike the typical monastery or convent, these residences are a normal part of the neighborhood in both location and appearance. The physical facilities .;,~em to help establish a rapport with the local citizenry. Religious in these groups generally establish bonds of friendship with their neighbors and participate in the parochial and civic life of the neighborhood. Frequently, they evidence deep concern [or the social problems of the areas. As the summary from one of these workshops stated: An important test of this quiet witness is whether those around them come to know them as alert, compassionate reli-gious people who have a genuine concern for others. This will depend on whether their style of life speaks quietly to those caught up in an acquisitive and competitive society. It will also depend on the degree they can in proper time and place realize reciprocal influence with their neighbors in the areas o~ spiritual and moral insight or support. In each workshop there were a number of other wflues and dangers, but the above represent the recurring ones which were considered significant. Despite some bad be-ginnings the new style of community life is flourishing. It provides the atmosphere for some wonderful experiences. The experience of those in these new groups and their major superiors strongly suggests the conclusion that this style of life will be normative for the future. + ÷ + Small Communities VOLUME 30, 1971 39] THOMAS H. GREEN, S.J. The House of Prayer: Some Reflections Based on an Experiment Thomas H. Green, S.J., is a faculty member of San Jose Major Seminary; Box 4475; Manila, Phil-ippines. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 392 1. The Need and Conventional Forms of Meeting It The idea of a house of prayer for apostolic religious is a very new one in the Church.t But the fundamental spirit is that of Christ Himself who both taught and exemplified the need for the apostle to "come aside and rest a while."'-' The rest which the Lord gave to His disciples and which He sought Himself was the recreative rest of time and space to truly encounter God. To rest in this way involved many things: the opportunity to get enough distance from apostolic involvement so that the disciples could understand the real meaning of what had happened to them; the chance to "return to the sources" and to deepen their reflective understanding of all that the Lord had previously taught them; the oppoi'tnnity to consolidate their own lives and thus to be open to future growth. They had to learn a lesson that is very important in our time--that certain kinds of devils are driven out only by prayer and fasting, that is, by the quality of the inner life of the exorcist, and not by any techniques or devices of his trade,s That first missionary journey, where they learned the possibilities of God's word in them, appears to have been an essential part of their formation. x For an early statement of the idea, see the article on the subject by Bernard H~iring, C.Ss.R., in REwv.w fOR R~L~CaOUS, September, I967. The early history of the house of prayer movement is sum-marized in Exploring Inner Space by Sister Ann Chester and Brother David, 1970, pp. 8-11. '-'Mk 6:30--4; Lk 9:10; see also Mk 6:46; Lk 6:12; 11:1; Jn 7:53. ~ Mk 9:29. But it was to prove a source of growth instead of despair only on the condition that they returned to the Lord to share with Him, in leisure, their successes and failures, and to learn from Him the true meaning of both. In this work, above all, what the apostle is counts far more than what lie says or does. Saint Paul, the greatest of apostles, was fully aware of this need.4 And, if we are to judge from his own mis-sionary life, the alternation of apostolate and reflective integration is a continual process as long as the apostle lives. Throughout her history, the Church has continued to realize this need. And the Holy Spirit has inspired her to provide various means for meeting it. The idea of daily periods of mental prayer has long been stressed in apostolic commnnities. Moreover, in recent centuries, an annual retreat has been a central spiritual feature of these communities. Finally, many communities have seen the need for a tertianship or "third probation" (postulancy and novitiate being the first two probations) to solidify and confirm the mature interiority of the apostle. All these ideas have proven valuable; but each of them has its limitations today. Perhaps a consideration of these limita-tions will help to snggest why a new instrument of apos-tolic maturity has appeared in our time. The oldest and most basic of means to interior depth is the daily mental prayer of the apostle. It remains a central featnre in any true instrumental union with God. But there are two kinds of difficulties which modern man en-counters. The first is the difficulty of discerning the spirits at work in the soul at prayer--of interpreting prop-erly what God is or is not doing. This has always been a problem, and it led St. John of the Cross, among many others, to insist upon the paramount importance of a good director."~ Such direction is hard to come by, however, and few souls seek until they find it. More often they grow un-certainly, and all too often they read the interior signs wrongly and take for failnre what is really growth. At this point a second, and more distinctively modern, difficulty enters. We live in a higly complex and intensely paced age. The apostle is a child of his times. As a result, he often finds his work occupying most of his energy and attention, even at times which he has kept "free" for prayer. The regular and measured pace of early monasti-cism where the fulfillment of the command "labora" distributed itself evenly and naturally over the days and seasons of the year is but a celestial dream for many mod-ern apostles. The result of these two difficulties combined ~ For an excellent resum~ of the Pauline teaching on prayer, see Romans, Chapter 8, footnote "'o" in the Jerusalem Bible. ~ Living Flame o[ Love, III, 26-53; see also St. Teresa, Interior Castle, pp. 50, 53, 68, and passim in the Image Book edition. 4- Prayer House VOLUME :~0, 1971 393 4. 4. 4. T. H. Green, S. J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 394 is frequently a mystique of work: Good souls despair of ever truly finding God in this life, and they decide, in effect, to lose themselves in their work for God, post-poning nntil eternity any genuine encounter with the Reason for their work. Two of the interior giants of our time, Karl Rahner and Caryl Houselander, have written movingly abont the holy wrongness of this decision.6 Prayer becomes a repetition of canonized formulas and resolutions, combined perhaps with a vagne unease that there should be more. The second means to interior depth, the annual re-treat, has arisen precisely as a response to the need, felt by members of apostolic communities, for periods of as-sessment and consolidation. The apostle cannot give what he dqes not have. The retreat is a chance to come aside and rest a while, and many find it an invalnable part of the year. Like the Biblical Sabbath rest, one of its natural (but not to be despised) fruits is physical rest. For many apostles, it has become the only real vacation they take in the year. And often they find that, rested, they can indeed pray fruitfully. The retreat, however, is very short: in some counnunities, three days; in others, six or eight. And everywhere the tendency is toward shortening it. Partly because retreats have become very impersonal en-counters between one retreat director and a very large group of retreatants. This results, often enongh, in a re-treat which is strongly moralistic, focusing on practical resolutions and planning'for the year, rather than on the "present deep experience of God which should be central to the retreat,v The physical sitnation makes adaptation to the personal needs and situation of the retreatant vir-tually impossible. Another reason why retreats are losing their vitality is the professionalism which characterizes so much of our work, and the failnre of the retreat struc-ture to provide that distance from our daily concerns, along with a real sense of direction in the retreat itself, which will challenge the modern man to seek and find a maturity in Iris prayer commensurate with his profes-sional maturity. The third traditional means to interior depth is the "tertianship" or third probation of many religious com-munities. Similar to this is the summer of renewal which some communities of sisters make available to their mem-bers, perhaps 25 years after profession. This is a true at- ~ K. Rahner, On Prayer, pp. 7-9; C. Houselander, This War Is the Passion, pp. 33-5. ~ This question of the proper purpose of a retreat has been much discussed in recent years. In an Ignatian context (and, I believe, even more generally), the remarks of Wm. Peters, S.J. (The Spirilual Exercises o~ St. Ignatius: Exposition and Interpretation, pp. 4-9) are very helpful. tempt to enable the religious to update themselves theo-logically, but it is even more what St. Ignatius calls a "schola affectus," 8 a chance for the heart to renew its commitment to God and to make new again that love which alone justified "leaving all things" in the first place. There is the time to settle down and to live deeply --something a retreat scarcely affords. There is the dis-tance from routine worries and preoccupations which even the most mature souls rarely find in their daily lives. And indeed, the house of prayek concept has much in common with the tertiansbip or summer of renewal. Too often, however, these familiar opportunities for renewal come only at a fixed and (,niform time in the life of religious, and the interval of renewal is uniform for all. Moreover, in these times when the communal character of our Christian and religious life is highly valued, there is often little community continuity to these forms. That is, the only principles of continuity from one renewal group to the next are the director (or directress) of the house and, perhaps, the instructional staff. There are, it is trne, customs and traditions which the director will commt, nicate verbally to each new group, but each has virtually to create from scratch that sense of Christian community which is integral to any post-Vatican II re-newal. 2. The Evolution o[ One New Response The house of prayer idea, then, is a recent proposal for meeting,an ancient religious need. One of the earliest and most eloquent advocates of'such houses is Father Bernard H~iring. And the importance which he attaches to the idea may be gathered from the fact that he has been known to say that this may be the most important work of his life. The idea of houses of prayer, though, has not always been as dearly defined as this may suggest. That is, many people have felt the lack of genuine leisure and of interi-ority, as well as of the freedom to respond to the apostolic "sacrament of the present moment," in modern religious structures. But the views as to how to remedy this lack have been almost as numerous as those who have felt it. I was a participant in early discussions at the University of Notre Dame in 1966-67, in which perhaps twenty sis-ter graduate students from as many different communi-ties took part)) At tbat time, we were in close agreement on the need for greater interiority and leisure, but we were far from agreed as to the forms necessary to meet this need. As the group began to establish contact with other like-a lgnatius Loyola, Constitutions o] the Society o] Jesus, n. 516. See the article cited in footnote 1 for the results of these dis- CL1ssiolls. ÷ ÷ ÷ Prayer House VOLUME 30, 1971 ÷ ÷ ÷ T. H. Green, S. ]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 396 minded religious, and to carry the idea back to their own communities, the possible forms gradually began to crystalize. While my own personal obligations1° prechtded close contact with the developing "movement," I followed indirectly but with great interest the emergence of the IHM Clearing Center in Monroe, Michigan, the various intercommunity conversations (and the involvement of such distinguished advisors as Thomas Merton), and the varions summer experiments in house-of-prayer living which were undertaken. But I felt, particularly when I returned to the Philippines in June of 1969, that my own involvement in the movement was at an end. I was mistaken. Through a series of those accidents and coincidences by which providence so often works, I soon found myself involved in an experimental house of prayer conducted by the Philippine province of the Sisters of Saint Paul of Chartres. The experiment has some inter-national importance, for the provincial superior of the St. Paul Sisters secured approval for it with a view to re-porting on the results at the community's next general chapter in 1971. If successful, it conld be extended to other provinces. At any rate, our experiment began full-time operation at a remote and beautifnlly situated mountain house in the northern Philippines.~ The two sisters with whom I had worked in planning the experi-ment during the preceding six months were then joined by two others, for a core group of four. Our house is called "The Home of the Spirit of God," since that seemed to express best wlmt we hope it will be. 3. Complementary but Diverse Options This brief historical excursus was necessary for two reasons. In the first place, the honse of prayer idea is one that has taken shape gradnally and experientially. We did not have a fully articulated concept of what was needed. Indeed, I at least have long believed that it was necessary to stop planning and start living the house of prayer. I felt that we could only learn the problems and possibil-ities- more deeply, that we could only learn whether and where the Spirit of God was leading ns--i[ we gave Him the time and the space to show us.v' Secondly, the living out of our experiment, within the matrix of concrete pos-sibilities afforded us by obedience and circumstance, has ~o First in writing a doctoral dissertation, anti then in pursuing postdoctoral studies at Cornell University aXAt Mount Pico in Trinidad Valley, about 6 kilometers from Baguio City. = For a further discussion of this delicate balance between plan-ning and living, sec Exploring Inner Space, pp. 79-81, 96-7, 111-2. shaped our understanding of God's design for this house of prayer. As I look back on the Notre Dame conversations in the .light of our Philippine experience, it seems to me that there are two basic options open to the house of prayer movement. The first is to establish centers of apostolic availability, for example in the inner city, where religious would be freed from tile institutional demands of our highly structured works and could offer to the people a flexible and prayerful community response to their actual present needs. This less structured type of Christian witness certainly appears to be an essential feature of the post-Vatican II Church. In fact, such a witness will un-doubtedly be a touchstone of the adaptability and rele-vance of the contemporary Church. But this type of experiment will not, by itself,'meet the needs of modern religious--particularly the need [or in-terior growth of which we spoke in the earlier part of the paper. It seems utopian to expect that we could abandon our structured works in the foreseeable future, or that a majority of our apostolic religious could be committed to free-form apostolates in this age of increasing profes-sionalism. And even if these goals could be realized, an elementary knowledge of human nature suggests that these new forms of witness would progressively take on structures of their own. More deeply, however, flexible response by itself would not guarantee mature interiority or the putting on of Christ. Thus there is a second option open to the house of prayer movement--one whose direct finality would be to provide apostolic religious with the . opportunity for full interior 'growth.-It-is this-type of. house of prayer which the Spirit appears to be forming here in the Philippines. Such a house would have as its aim providing a con-temporary response to the needs discussed in the earlier part of this article. It would complement the daily periods of prayer, and the annual retreat, of the apostolic religious. This means that it should provide the leisure and the spiritual direction necessary to read the signs of interior growth correctly, and to avoid that mystique of work which threatens to rob dedicated souls of the perspective described by our Lord in the Last Supper discourse. Moreover, it should provide a much more realistic op-portunity than does tile group annual retreat for apostles to personalize their experience of God and to deepen the sense of the utter uniqueness of their vocation. In this way, an interior maturity commensurate with our pro-fessional maturity would be fostered: a development which would resolve many of our contemporary "identity Prayer House VOLUME 30, 1971 397 crises," and consequently equip us much better to speak the healing word to modern man.1:~ Perhaps the most fruitfid way to conceive this type ot~ house of prayer is as a sort of "floating tertiansbip." That is, it would be a true "schola at~ectus" for people experi-enced in the apostolate and well aware of the difficulty of achieving true spiritual maturity. But it would be avail-able to them when they themselves felt the need for it. Moreover, it would be a continuing community--with a core group providing the continuity--whose whole apos-tolic function would be to provide a climate of peace and prayer and joy into which others could easily enter for that period of time (whether a summer or a semester or a year) which seems best to them. Since this seems to be the type of house of prayer taking shape among us here, per-haps a Jew preliminary experiential comments are in order.1~ 4- 4- 4- 4. Some Reflections Based on Experience The question of the location o[ houses of prayer was much discussed in tile Notre Dame conversations. In the light of our experience, I believe the location shonld be a function of the type of house of prayer envisioned. For our type, whose apostolate is directed to the active reli-gious themselves and which is geared primarily to people coming for a lengthy stay, the best location would be that which best meets their needs and desires--that is, one sufficiently removed from their daily concerns to sacra-mentalize their coming aside to rest a while. At the same time, however, an important part of their growth will be their continuing education. St. Teresa of Avila wisely mistrusted a deliberately ignorant piety. For this reason (unless the core members themselves can provide classes, especially in Scripture and spiritual theology), the house should be near a sister-formation center or a university with a good theology program. The question of continuing education brings us to the broader question of the program of the house of prayer. Since the whole reason for the existence o~ snch a house is to provide tile leisure to hear God, it is clear that the program should be so arranged that whatever is done, especially the liturgy and other forms o~ communal and private prayer, can be done deeply and well. At tile same time, if there is not a common and reasonably busy rhythm to the day, leisure can easily deteriorate into mere idleness; our hearing God can become a mere intro- T. 11. Green, $. ~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 398 a'~ For moving evidence of the liberative and maturing influence of actual house of prayer experiments, see the reports in Exploring In-ner Space, pp. 40-75. ~ A basically (but not totally) similar idea of the house of prayer is found in Exploring Inner Space, pp. 12-4. spective analysis of ourselves,is ~Ve have tried, gradually and as experience dictated, to articulate a program which provides for daily private prayer (1~/2 hours), study re-lated to prayer (2 hours), classes in conjunction with a neighboring formation program (from 2 to 6 hours a week depending upon the interests and aptitudes of the individual sisters), and work--in addition to the litnrgy antl an adapted form of the Divine Office with which we are experimenting. In addition, the sisters have agreed upon assigned days for receiving guests and inquirers and for handling the small shop which helps to support the house. (The mountain peoples are expert weavers, and locally woven cloth is the principal object for sale.) Various other activities, such as catechetical work in the neighborhood and a coffee hour for the people after Sunday Mass, have arisen naturally. But perhaps enough has been said to indicate the general program of the house. As far as possible we try to work out the details of living communally in the light of experience. One detail which has evoked a uniformly enthusiastic response is an hour in the evening devoted to "creative leisure," a somewhat pretentious title for a time "to do those things you have always wanted to do, but for which you have never had the time." The results have been wonderful in their variety: so much so that the adviser is developing a sense of cultnral inferiority! Thus far the experiment has been enthusiastically re-ceived by the core members and the guest members. The latter have been relatively few until now since we have tried to give the core group an opportunity to get to know one another and to establish the spirit of the house. But there appears to be considerable interest, both among the St. Paul Sisters and among other religious com-munities in the Philippines. Sevkra( of the latter have sent representatives to inquire about our project, anti also to participate in the life--sometimes with a view to establishing similar honses,t~ And within the year we hope to hold an intercommnnity retreat in the house of prayer itself. a~ As Exploring Inner Space makes clear, this was not a problem iu the shorter summer experiments there reported o,~. But we have recognized the danger in a continuing house of prayer; that the danger is real for any small community is suggested by the remarks of Brother Gabriel Moran in his recent book, The New Community, pp. 58-62. He refers to "the uarcissistic obsession with the experi-ence of commu,fity," and quotes with approval Father Henri Nouwen's "spoiled child" analogy. Our experience would tend to confirm these obser\'ations. ~6 The question is ofteu asked whether houses of prayer should be intercommunity or intracommunity. The a,~swer is unclear to me, but experience does suggest that an intracommunity begimting has definite practical advantages in terms of common background, com-munity support, and so forth. + 4- + Prayer House VOLUME 30, 1971 399 + + T. H. Green, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS A final question may be raised: What qualities should be sought in a member of the house of prayer? Guest members (those there for a temporary period) should, we believe~ be mature women, experienced in and dedicated to the apostolate of their community, who have felt the need and expressed the desire for greater interior growth. The house would not normally be for those in, or newly out of, formation. Nor, it goes without saying, should it be a last stopping-off point for those preparing to leave religious life. Some, it is true, will come to the house of prayer with questions about the real relevance of many of our contemporary structures (particularly our mystique of work), but they should be anxious to find the answers within the context of their fimdamental religious com-mitment. The core members should possess all these qualities and should also have a genuine desire to make this house their apostolate. Sound emotional and psychological bal-ance should be especially sought for, since they are to be "bridge people" committed both to a continual openness to the experience of God (a more difficult task than any of the exterior works we undertake) and to the sharing of their search with others. Since community appears to be a central feature of our evolving experiment, they should also be adaptable people, and chosen with a view to the general compatibility of the particular core group in question. Beyond this, it seems very desirable to have a healthy diversity of talents and personalities. For example, it would be ideal to have in the core group a sister well trained in Scripture and another in spiritual theology, who could offer their services to the community and to guest members. But all need not be scholars, providing they are at peace in accepting their own limitations and anxious to put their own gifts at the service of the com-munity. 5. Conclusion These, then, are the reasons I see for a house of prayer, the nature of such a house, and some points of detail which our experience with one house of prayer has sug-gested. It would be wrong to imply that there have not been problems. There have been so many, and such unusual ones in fact, that I have become convinced that the Lord is doing something very important here. More-over, the very problems, and the equally unusual ways in which they have been resolved, suggest that the experi-ment must be approached with great openness and de-tachment. Since the cry for the "liberation" of woman is by no means as loud among Filipinas as among American sisters, the priest adviser can still play a more explicit and less self-conscious role here. But it is no less true here that the life style must be determined, and the problems re-solved, from within. From the outset we have sought to "hang loose" in the hands of God and to let Him lead ns wherever He wished. This has not been easy, and I am sure we have failed often. Bnt the success of our experi-ment will ultimately depend upon our learning to bang loose, particularly since the masters of the interior life all tell us that this "disponibilitd" is the ultimate achieve-ment of mature nnion with God. Our conviction that this is the reason for our existence, and our principal con-tribution to the apostolic life, is sacramentalized in onr name: The Home of the Spirit of God. + 4- + Prayer House VOLUME 30, 401 SISTER MARY JEANNE SALOIS, R. S, M. Pilot Study of xperimentation in Local Community Living Sister Jeanne is Director of Re-search Services; Sis-ters of Mercy; 10000 Kentsdale Drip, e, Box 34446; Bethesda, Maryland 20034. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Religious communities of women are experimenting with many new practices in their living together in com-munity. There is, however, a dearth of reliable and valid evaluation of this experimentation, largely because it is difficult to assess outcomes so subjective in nature. The study reported here was made in a large religious congre-gation (545 local houses) to (1) identify the new practices being implemented and the ends which these practices were to promote, and (2) assess the attitudes of sisters re-garding the effects of this implementation. Procedure: The 73 local conamunities participating in this study were volunteers who agreed (1) to construct ;t plan for local community living for the year, 1969-1970, which would include goals, a plan of action, and meth-ods of evaluation, and (2) to complete an Attitude Scale to be administered to all participants at the close of the year. The investigator visited each local community in the study to: 1. develop the basic assumptions for the study with the lo-cal group in keeping with the new practices they were imple-menting and the ends they hoped to achieve. 2. interview a random sampling of one-fifth of the sisters to obtain an oral expression of opinion regarding the results of changes in government, prayer life, and temporalities. 3. obtain the information necessary for an accurate descrip-tion of the living situation. Treatment of the Data: The Attitude Scale entitled "Scale to Evaluate Sisters' Attitndes Toward Experimen-t; tl Practices in Local Community Living" was sent to 73 local houses totaling 875 sisters. Four hundred and seventy (54 percent) responded, representing the follow- ing cross section of sisters: TABLE I Distribution of Sisters Responding to Attitude Scale Sisters in Religion Over Sisters in Religion Less Sisters Giving No Indica- 25 Years than 25 Years lion of Number of Years in Religion Consensus* Coordinatort 32 155 Consensus Coordinator 70 153 Consensus Coordinator 11 49 * Local houses with government by consensus with no authority figure. "~ Local houses with elected or appointed coordinator. Thus, respondents include 113 sisters with government by consensus and 355 with ;t local coordinator. Respond-ents represent 187 sisters in religion over 25 years, 233 in religion less than 25 years, and 60 sisters who did not indi-cate the number of years in religion. The split-half reliability coefficient was obtained for this scale by correlating individnal's scores on the odd-numbered items with their scores on the even-numbered items, rising the deviation score method of computing the Pearson product-moment coefficient of correlation cor-rected by the Spearman-Brown formula. Tile obtained coefficient of equivalence for the Attitnde Scale was .85. Findings from. local plans. Goals enumerated in tile plans placed heavy emphasis on the spiritual aspects of re-ligious life. There was ~t frequently expressed concern for the psychological aspects of the person, especially for the nniqueness of the individual. The sisters also aimed at improving the apostolic dimension of religious life. The desire to witness to an authentic community of love was evident in m~tny of the goals formnlated. Some plans emphasized the elements of freedom and informality. Procedures for achieving goals inchtded variations in government: 33 houses were governed by consensus, 25 had elected coordinators, and 15 had an appointed co-ordinator. There was much participation and shared re-sponsibility in the local situation. In all personal aspects of living, sisters assumed responsibility for their own de-cisions. Daily prayers said in common varied from the usual Lauds, Vespers, and Encharistic Celebration to Grace be-fore dinner in the local community. Some innovative ap-proaches were tried to enrich the liturgy. In general, lo-cal communities fouml that unless communal prayer was strnctured as to time and place, not much communal prayer took place. Personal monthly allowances ranged from $5 to $80. Ahhough there was some variation in the items to be + 4- 4- Pilot Study VOLUME 30, 1971 4~3 ÷ ÷ Sister M. Jeanne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 4O4 pnrcbased with the personal allowance, in many instances tbe same items were to be purchased with $20 in one house and $40 in another. Local comlnunities found ewdnation the most ditficult, partly becanse objectives were not sufficiently specific and they were not expressed in measurable terms. Methods nsed inchlded community discnssions, reports, question-naires, minutes of meetings, periodic assessment of goal achievelnent, and schedule of activities which took place. Findings from interviews. The investigator found much polarity, with sisters in younger, middle, and older cate-gories differing significantly in their thinking about reli-gions life. Older sisters (over 60 years of age) would like to see many things being (lone under the name of ex-perimentation discontinued. They believe that unless sisters return to former practices, soon there won't be any religions. Many middle-aged sisters (35-59) believe that the actnal growth of each sister as a resnlt of the new freedoms depends on each individual; some will profit and some will not. Younger sisters (up to 35) are happy to have the freedom which they are being given, but the grave questions concerning the purposes and values of religious life which they are asking make freedom some-what dangerous from the standpoint of actually living .the religious life. Without an understanding of the pur-poses of religions life to gnide decisions, young religions are uncertain concerning the best means to take in practi-cal situations. Older and middle-aged sisters are happy about many of the changes--participation in decisiou-making, having an allowance, being able to visit relatives more fre-quently, having the freedom to dress for the occasion-- all of these changes are considered helpful to religious living. Changes observed which do not meet the approval of these sisters include the wearing of inappropriate lay clothing, the sharing in the social life of the laity, and being free from a local antbority figure. Older sisters fear that religions are becoming worldly and that prayer life is disappearing; younger sisters [ear that there might be a division in the community and re-ligious life may have no future. Sisters of all age groups are recommending that younger sisters be given more direction and guidance, that forma-tion programs becolne more structnred. When asked their views on reasons for sisters leaving, the sisters mentioned the following reasons: 1. Some sisters don't have anything to hang on to because of inadequate training for religious life. 2. Some sisters are disillusioned with the pettiness of re-ligious life. 3. Some can't live the life and they don't know why. 4. Sisters who are leaving see no purpose in religious life. They wish to marry. 5. Some sisters don't want to become like some older reli-gious they know. Findings from Attitude Scale. Respondents completed. a Likert-type Attitude Scale in order to provide evidence in support or rejection of basic assumptions formulated by the investigator and sisters in each local community at the time of the site visit. These assumptions will be listed followed by a summary of findings from the Atti-tude Scale as completed by the sisters. 1. A basic condition of equality in Christian dignity and freedom will provide a meaningful way of living out one's commitment of obedience. Sisters were asked their understanding of the phrase "equality in Christian dig-nity and freedom" when applied to religious in a local community. Most of the sisters believe that equality in Christian dignity and freedom flows from one's common membership in the People of God with God as Father of all. 56 percent of older sisters (in religion over 25 years) believe the person designated as superior in a commu-nity represents the authority of God, whereas only 14 percent of younger sisters (in religion under 25 years) believe this. 74 percent of younger sisters believe that all sisters have equal responsibility for discerning the will of God for the group, compared to 48 percent of older sisters. 30 percent of younger sisters do not consider di-rection and correction when needed part of the role of the authority figure; 9 percent of older sisters support this view. If the concept of "equality in Christian dignity and freedom" held by the majority of younger sisters is to provide a meaningful way of living out one's commit-ment of obedience, obedience needs to be defined in terms which exclude an authority figure who represents the authority of God (70 percent do not accept this). If the vow of obedience requires that one see in the author-ity figure a representative of the authority of God, then a basic condition of equality in Christian dignity and freedom as defined by approximately 70 percent of sis-ters professed under 25 years does not provide a mean-ingful way of living out one's commitment of obedience. One item in the Attitude Scale was "The concept of equality which excludes a superior can be reconciled with the vow of obedience." 53 percent of all respondents agreed with this statement. This percentage included 47 percent of older sisters with consensus government, 30 percent with a coordinator, 97 percent of younger sisters with consensus government, and 67 percent with a co-ordinator (total of 228 sisters). 2. Opportunities to make personal decisions in an open 4- 4. 4. Pilot Study VOLUME 30, 1971 405 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Jeanne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 406 atmosphere where adult professional roomen act as peers will promote growth in maturity as expressed by concern for the other person's welfare, sensitivity to others' needs, and a sharing of responsibility [or the welfare of the group. The group which believes most heartily that sis-ters readily assume responsibility on their own is the younger sisters with consensus government (76 percent). In the older group, only 31 percent agreed with this opin-ion. Younger sisters had the highest percentage agreeing that sensitivity to the needs of others increases as author-ity decreases (85 percent); 41 percent of the older sisters agreed with this statement. In the opinion of a majority of the sisters, added opportunities to make personal de-cisions provided during this period are promoting growth in maturity as expressed by a sensitivity to the needs of others and the assuming of responsibility for the wel-fare of the group. 3. When sisters participate in organizational planning, the amount of structure zoill vary with each community and it will be appropriate to the situation. A majority of sisters believe that organization for community living in the local house this year met the sisters' needs better than was true in the past. Highest gronp in believing this was younger sisters with consensus government (86 percent); lowest was tim older sisters with a coordinator (48 percent). Among older sisters, the schedule planned was most satisfactory to those with a coordinator; among younger sisters, the schedule planned was most satisfac-tory to those with consensus government. 4. Unity will grow as local communities accept a di-versity o[ living styles among their members, and sisters in the total province community accept diversity of living among local groups. Approximately 75 percent of older sisters believe that acceptance of diversity has much to do with promoting unity in community; over 90 per-cent of yotmger sisters believe this. Respondents were practically unanimous in their opinion that a full re-sponse to the totality of Christian revelation on the part of each sister will promote unity. Over 60 percent of older sisters consider integration of differences and bar-riers conducive to unity; only 23 percent of younger sis-ters agree with this. The great number of undecided responses to an item suggesting that identification with the goals and values of the foundress is conducive to unity (ahnost 30 percent) seems to indicate that these are not consciously functional in the lives of many sisters today. Responses to items related to assumption 4 permit the acceptance of this statement; however, these responses indicate that much more than acceptance of diversity needs to be considered in promoting unity. 5. Community will be fostered on a local level as au-thority effective in the apostolate can be kept from in- [htencing decisions and planning related to home living. Younger sisters are opposed to dual authority (70 per-cent) more than is true of older sisters (44 percent). A majority of sisters agree that authority in the apostolate when exercised in community makes living difficult. 6. A supportive, Christ-centered community attempt-ing to establish interpersonal relationships based on love, trust, and respect will redound to the benefit of the apos-tolate. Groups with consensus government in both younger and older categories were most ready to say that noth-ing had greater effect on their apostolate than their living situation. 64 percent of all sisters agreed that sisters in their local house profited from their day-to-day experi-ence in community living in .meeting the challenges of the apostolate. 7. Spirituality deepens when each sister is free to de-termine her prayer life with no specified prayers. Older and younger sisters differ greatly in their thinking on specified daily requirements in the area of prayer. 76 per-cent of older religions believe there should be specified daily requirements; 38 percent of younger religious be-lieve this. Polarity of younger and older sisters is also shown in beliefs regarding benefits of traditional forms of com-munal prayer. 47 percent of older sisters and 16 percent of younger sisters believe that traditional forms of prayer do much to promote a religious spirit among local groups. Most sisters acknowledge the need for daily personal prayer (90 percent). A majority of older sisters (56 percent) believe that when no prayers are specified, fewer and fewer prayers are said; 18 percent of the yonnger sisters believe this. The sisters are ahnost unanimous in rejecting the no-tion that discussion and/or apostolic work is an ade-quate substitute for personal prayer. The 6 percent who believe this number about 28 sisters out of 470 respond-ents in this study. In summary, sisters in religion over 25 years tend to reject assumption 7, and sisters in religion less than 25 years support it. 8. Community life deepens when local communities are free to respond to their common needs for prayer, and group members support individuals who introduce new forms of common worship. 83 percent of younger sisters with consensus govermnent and 52 percent with a co-ordinator believe that their communal prayer which flowed from the felt needs of the group was a help in ,4, .4- ar Pilot Study VOLUME 30, 1971 407 Sister M. Jeanne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 408 promoting community. Over half o[ the Older groups responded in a positive manner to this item. At this time when so much emphasis is placed on the commnnity-forming aspects o[ communal prayer, over 90 percent believe that communal prayer is an expres-sion o[ adoration, praise, and thanksgiving to God. While emphasizing spontaneous small intimate group-ings in prayer, sisters are continuing to emphasize the vertical dimension. Communities which introduced new [orms o[ communal prayer [onnd these condncive to a deepening of community li[e. 9. Personal management of money and cooperative planning of community budgets will promote an appre-ciation [or the value o[ money, be practical, and be conducive to a responsible use o[ material goods. The per-sonal responsibility which sisters are assuming in finan-cial affairs is making them aware o[ the cost of living. Sisters are finding the allowance (average $26 per month) practical and, in general, adequate. Many sisters are un-certain as to the effects of increased responsibility in fi-nancial matters on the practice of poverty. Some sisters find it difficult to speak in terms of poverty at all because o[ the many connotations the term has, for example, synonymous with destitution. 10. Emphasis on personal responsibility in financial a[- [airs will el]ect greater simplicity o] liIe style or more meaning[ul "ordered minimalness.'" Opinions of over hal~ of the sisters do not snpport the concept that empha-sis on personal responsibility in financial affairs will ef-fect greater simplicity o[ li[e style. The investigator sought to determine the thinking o[ the sisters on the meaning of the vow o[ poverty. A ma-jority of sisters identi~y poverty with a collective sharing of material goods, o~ availability, and o~ love for the poor. Concepts accepted by older sisters and rejected by younger groups are a "willingness to divest onesel~ o~ all things here on earth in order to obtain the riches o~ heaven," and "abandonment of oneself--sacrifice o[ com- [orts and material possessions." Both older and younger sisters agree that poverty means complete and fidl com-mitment to Christ; both groups reject the notion that poverty means dependence on superiors [or material things. 11. Diversified living will enable each sister to develop as a total person and encourage individual initiative in the use o[ her unique talents in promoting the good o[ the community. 25 percent o[ older sisters believe that total development o[ each sister was promoted by partic-ipation in a wide range o[ activities outside the primary apostolate, as compared to 75 percent o[ younger sisters with consensus government and 54 percent with a coordi-nator. In the thinking of most sisters, diversified living does promote the development of each sister and the good of the community. A majority of sisters rejected the idea that diversified living promotes individual satisfaction rather than the total good of the community. 12. Community living will improve as the sisters imple-ment the proposals in Mercy Covenant which are related to community life. Over two-thirds of the sisters indicated that there has been much implementation of Mercy Cove-nant (interim guide for the Sisters of Mercy of the Union). All groups believe that Mercy Covenant has improved community living, with the younger gronp with consensus government being the most enthusiastic (78 percent), and older sisters with a coordinator the least favorably im-pressed (41 percent). Of the groups involved, younger sisters with consensus government believed they experience(! community togeth-erness in a spirit of creativity to the greatest extent (60 percent), and older sisters with a coordinator, to the least extent (45 percent). In summary, most of the sisters in this study believe that proposals on community living have been imple-mented, and that this implementation has made a con-siderable difference in community living. 72 percent say that acceptance of others whose opinions differ from one's own is one area of improvement. 13. Problems and advantages of group living vmy with the size of the group. Nearly 70 percent of all sisters in the study think size has something to do with successful group living. Over half of the sisters prefer a group size of 7 to 12. Advantages cited for small gronps (4-9) were (1) deep and personal relationships, (2) sensitivity in dis-covering the needs of others, (3) less chance of cliques forming, (4) cohesiveness, togetherness, and a sense of belonging, (5) simplified group planning, dialog, and communication, (6) unity through an understanding and acceptance of each individnal, (7) flexible, more easily changed plans, and (8) homelike atmosphere. Disadvan-tages listed were (1) insnfficient variety in personalities for maximum growth opportunities, (2) heavy workload, (3) incompatibility of community members, (4) loneliness when one is not closely related to other members of the gronp, (5) lack of privacy, (6) individual problems affect-ing all members, and (7) demand for much cooperation from each member. Advantages of medium size groups (l 0-18) included (1) diversity in relationships, (2) adequate number available for community activities, (3) reasonable distribution of ÷ 4- ÷ Pilot Study VOLUME ~0, 1971 409 Sister M. Jeanne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 410 work, (4) flexibility of life style and constant presence of community nucleus, (5) adequate privacy, (6) less chance of someone being left out, and (7) easy interchange of ideas. Disadvantages listed were (1) too many divisions possible in community, (2) consensus is difficult, (3) quiet people are swallowed up, (4) lack of personal concern, (5) can make for institutional living, (6) too large for total group activities, (7) too many bosses. Advantages of large groups (19-) included (1) variety of talents, activities, personalities, (2) shared responsibil-ity, (3) better apostolic coverage, (4) easier financially, (5) greater freedom, (6) uncongenial members do not dis-rupt harmony as seriously as in small group, (7) much company and companionship. Disadvantages included (1) lack of family spirit, (2) tendency to form cliques, (3) lack of personalism, (4) difficult to assemble gronp for meet-ings, (5) only a few are heard, (6) can become efficiency oriented, (7) too easy to isolate oneself from community, (8) less responsibility assumed by individuals, (9) lack of communication, (10) too much structure needed. 14. Advantages and disadvantages ol group living vary with the amount of diversity in apostolic worhs repre-sented by group members. Half of the sisters in this study see no particular advantage or disadvantage in profes-sionally diversified groups, with many sisters undecided, perhaps because they never had this experience. In order to obtain further information regarding the effects of diversity of apostolic work, self-selection, and assignment to a group on community living, the sisters were asked to cite advantages and disadvantages of these situations if they had experienced them. Results are summarized be-low. Advantages of diversity of apostolic works in the same community included (I) diversity of viewpoints and inter-ests, (2) conversation not bogged down in perpetual dis-cussion of work situation, (3) can lead to involvement in other works, (4) forced to leave undesirable problems be-hind, (5) source of enrichment, (6) encourages sharing, and (7) promotes appreciation for other's difficulties. Disadvantages included (l) difficulty in planning ac-tivities for entire group, (2) failure to understand other apostolates, (3) confidential information can be unknow-ingly disseminated, and (4) minority groups are sometimes left out of considerations. Adw~ntages of self-selected groups mentioned by re-spondents included (1) provides the satisfaction and com-fort of living with people who accept you as you are and insures a feeling of belonging to the group, (2) contributes to peace and harmony in community because of common ideals, interests, attitudes, goals, (3) increases nnity among members of the group and a sense of responsibility for each other, (4) enhances group spirituality and depth of commitment to apostolate, (5) reduces personality con-flicts and violations of charity, (6) encourages sisters to take responsibility for their own actions, (7) promotes community by size and flexibility of group, and (8) re-duces time and energy needed to adiust to one another. Disadvantages of self-selected groups included (1) group members may be disappointing, (2) can cause loss of com-munity spirit in the larger community, (3) is divisive, (4) is a means of self-gratification, (5) is an unrealistic divi-sion of age groups, (6) can be a cause of added expense, (7) is less a living on faith, less the living of witness to religious life. Advantages of assigned groups mentioned by respor~d-ents included (1) true life style with its variety of ages and temperaments, (2) challenges sisters to new heights of love and consideration for all, (3) provides opportunities for the cultivation of new friends, (4) implements the principle of "being sent" to form community of love, (5) facilitates the keeping of corporate commitments, (6) re-duces the rejection of undesirable persons. Disadwmtages of assigned groups included (1) lack of agreement its to life style with resulting conflict and lack of adjustment, (2) incompatible persons can create prob-lems, (3) unity in diversity is often lacking, (4) restdts in submissiveness and dependence, (5) work may be nnde-sirable, (6) nnhealtl~y friction is often present, (7) lack of personalis~n. One item on the Attitude Scale attempted to find out which areas in the lives of sisters shonld be governed by personal, community, or higher authority decisions. Find-ings were as follows: Areas of Decision Making a. Daily personal prayer b. Daily communal prayer c. Leisure activities within community d. Leisure activities outside community e. Primary work commitment f. Work commiunent in ad-dition to primary apos-tolate Conclusions Source of Decisions Individual (83%) Local Community (58%) Individual (31%) Local Community (29%) Individual (63%) Individual (24%) Higher Authority (20%) Individual and Higher Author-ity (18%) Individual and Higher Author-ity (26%) Individual (22%) Higher Authority (21%) All of the assumptions listed can be accepted with the exception of the four given below which need to be modi-÷ ÷ ÷ Pilot Study VOLU~E 30, 1971 fled and explained in terms used in the text of this manu-script. A basic condition of equality in Christian dignity and free-dom will provide a meaningful way of living out one's com-mitment of obedience. Advantages and disadvantages of group living vary with the amount of diversity in apostolic works represented by group members. Spirituality deepens when each sister is free to determine her prayer life with no specified prayers. Emphasis on personal responsibility in financial affairs will effect greater simplicity of life style or more meaningful "or-dered minimalness." In the opinion of the writer, an understanding of the theology of religious life and mnch dialogue on the real issues which are causing conflict are the needs of the day. Only if conflict, distrnst, and disunity can be replaced by love which can cope with various forms of outward ex-pression will religious turn the present confusion into hopefulness for the future. + + + Sister M. Jeanne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 412 Pra.,ver as CARL STARKLOFF, s.J. "Justi cation by Faith" Although the title may not indicate it, this article will deal with prayer and activity. To explain why one should risk further cluttering the storeroom of spiritual theology with another such study, let me hasten to add that our di